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#plugging barbarous again
lowpolybread · 10 months
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"Why won't you use me?" / "I know you're using me."
@barbarous 8.1 and 8.27 by Johnny Wander
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watercolorfreckles · 4 months
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Could you do a story where a guard of a Supermax prison befriends a supervillain, because he treats him like a genuine human being instead of an animal; and later, all the power-dampeners suddenly fail; and all these villains just revolt against the guards; but supervillain makes sure he’s safe since he was always kind to him?
I understand if you don’t want to!!❤️
Hello! This has been sittin in my inbox for many months during my huge writing rut, sorry about that! I know you also gave this prompt to @the-modern-typewriter and she's been making an incredible series with it on patreon! I changed some things around because I don't want to in any way attempt some sad copy of her interpretation, but I was still inspired by the prompt itself, so I've taken some fairly big liberties to avoid any significant similarities! Hope that's okay! Also, please manage your expectations, I do not compare to the magic that is TMT's writing 😆
TW: Brief depictions of body horror. Violence.
The power blew out in sections. The lights dissolved sector by sector with a sickening whine and click–one by one–in approach.
The commotion ripped Eloise from the fictional world she was lost in, aged page corners still pinched beneath her thumb. Her spirited storytelling abruptly died behind her teeth.
Somewhere in the distance, one person shouted. Two.
Her gaze flicked behind them to the door isolating herself and the bound supervillain from the other sectors of the Maximum Security Prison for Powered Individuals or, as everyone called it, The Max. Seeing nothing but black beyond the bullet-proof glass, her attention snapped forward again to the supervillain imprisoned across from her. 
Was this the start of some elaborate escape plan on his part? Why did it have to happen on a day that she was stuck fulfilling her community service hours instead of being something she could safely gawk at in the newspaper from a distance in a few days? Her stomach did a nauseated flip. 
“What are you doing?” she blurted, voice quivering only a little. Her fingers tightened around her book.
The villain made a show of looking pointedly at his restraints. Wrists strung taut and chained to either wall, he shrugged an innocent shoulder at her as if to say “clearly, nothing.” He was perched on the edge of his bed like a bird, tilting his head with a matching sort of probing curiosity. 
For all the chaos outside of the room, Artisan had not a hair out of place. He appeared perfectly unconcerned, though as thoroughly trapped as ever: ankles shackled, arms stretched uselessly apart from each other. The power-dampening collar wrapped around his neck still blipped a faint red light, indicating it was active. 
The prisoners were rioting. Surely they couldn’t get too far? Containing the most dangerous of powered individuals was, after all, the express purpose of the facility…
The lights above them flickered, dipping the room in and out of inky darkness before settling into a dimly lit haze. Eloise’s breath stalled. The imposing dark felt like a threat, as if the lights could keep the monsters at bay. It only made a little sense, in the way that a child feels safe from the monsters under their bed as long as their nightlight is plugged in.
Except that these monsters were real. The most dangerous in the country. And she was currently feet away from the monster that made even other monsters run.
He hadn’t seemed so bad in the time that she’d known him. Quiet, impassive, yet twisting her gut with pity any time she eyed his barbaric restraints. The least she could do–while crossing off her hours–was to read the supervillain a story every few days. She couldn’t change his fate. Couldn’t make him more comfortable. What she could do was rattle off, sheepishly, about fictional worlds and impactful characters in literature and the way that a well-crafted story could transport you somewhere better.
A crash, gunshots, a scream. Tension racketed through Eloise’s shoulders. More shouts chased thundering footsteps.
Things were going very, very, wrong. And she was very much out of her depth.
Eloise jolted as something struck the door, her special-edition copy of Mary Shelly's Frankenstein falling to the ground and skidding away.
Finally, the lights cut out. With it, every noticeable piece of tech died. All of the energy felt sucked out of the room as if vacuumed. The camera’s blinking light disappeared. Alarms that should have been wailing cut silent. Speakers, keypads, and security systems, all dead. The secondary generator hadn’t sprung to life yet. That meant that this was more than a simple power outage. This was a calculated revolt.
 Eloise’s mind raced through a list of everything else that must have been failing. Coms. Sedative gas. Shock collars. Layers and layers of security locks…
Power dampeners.
Panic clamped vice-like and suffocating around her throat. Artisan’s collar was no longer blinking. 
She froze in the eerie silence of the cell, afraid of shattering the fragile calm. Her heart thumped, rabid, against her ribs.
Chains rattled and clinked to the floor.
Eloise bolted blindly for the door, smacking her palm against the DNA scanner while frantically swiping her “Volunteer Staff” badge through the card reader. When neither miraculously came to life, she resorted to banging on the door.
“Let me out, let me out! Guard!”
The door could only be opened by one person inside the cell and one outside simultaneously unlocking the security checkpoints. Even if the power were on, if the guard on the other side was gone…
The emergency floodlights kicked on, bathing the building in startling fluorescence. Eloise flinched, briefly stunned.
Hands grabbed her firmly from behind, yanking her backward.
Eloise yelped. “No, please–!”
The spot that she had been standing in exploded, steel door and concrete chunks collapsing into the room in a barrage of shrapnel. Something–no, someone–landed, bones crunching, at her feet. The guard who had last been standing on the opposite side of the door lay motionless. His blood puddled the floor, staining the soles of her Converse sneakers.
A horrified sound choked in Eloise’s throat.
Another supervillain strode in, eyes alight with hatred and something more–power. His lip curled, waving a mocking hand–engulfed in green energy–at the guard’s corpse. “God. I’ve wanted to do that for far too long. That one always got on my nerves.”
Artisan looked unimpressed. “You’re making a mess in my cell.”
Eloise’s breath caught. Hearing the supervillain’s voice was jarring. Artisan rarely spoke. Not that any of the other staff had ever actually attempted conversation with him… But even in news clips and YouTube videos, he carried himself with the kind of self-assured quiet of someone who had absolutely nothing to prove. His lethal efficiency did more for his reputation than any words could.
The other man was a villain named William Frenzy, a telekinetic with a gleeful taste for violence.
Faced with Artisan’s startling calm, Frenzy… paused. Faltering on a tight rope he had moments before been strolling across. 
“Yes, well. It won’t have to be your cell much longer, will it? They can’t stop all of us.” He smirked at the dead body on the floor. “Some of them can’t even stop one of us.”
Eloise shrank back toward the corner nearest the door, agonizingly slow, willing the ugly shadows from the artificial lighting to swallow her up while the supers focused on each other. She was the kind of person that people tended not to notice; a background character in the perimeter of a story that the protagonist would meet once and never spare a thought again. She wished, then, that invisibility really was her superpower.
Artisan said nothing, his steely gaze fixed upon Frenzy.
Frenzy floundered beneath the scrutiny. The smugness buffered on his face. Finally, he huffed, crossing his arms. “I made you a nice and easy door out. You’re welcome.” He flicked a hand toward the gaping hole in the wall.
Eloise inched further toward it.
Artisan tutted, and while it wasn’t aimed at her, it shot a cold thrill up her spine. She froze, briefly, before continuing her tantalizing escape. She listened to Artisan speak again. 
“I did not need anything from you. I’ll be getting out regardless. You on the other hand…” 
Eloise stared as Frenzy’s skin shrank taut against his bones, the frame of him creaking and groaning like an old tree in the wind. The air choked out of him, fingers grabbing at his jaw as it stretched open too wide. The corners of his lips tore, slitting his mouth into a gaping maw.
The faintest of smiles graced Artisan's lips as he continued, soft as ever. “Say sorry.”
Eloise didn’t wait to see the carnage through, slipping out into the hall and running.
The other sectors were washed in the same sterile glow as Artisan’s cell was, blue-tinged and horrible, like the lights in a dentist's office. She kept to the edge of things as best she could, clinging to the walls and dark corners.
There was brawling in every sector—guards with weapons drawn mowed to the ground by the creatures they had wardened for so long. A villain fell as shots rang out. Another grabbed the guard from behind, cracking his skull against their knee. 
The smell of blood stung Eloise’s nostrils. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t breathe.
She turned to flee down another hall, but two fighting inmates crashed into the doorway in front of her.
Eloise squealed, jerking backward into the belly of the room's chaos.
Don't notice me, don't notice me, don't notice me.
Everyone was so occupied by their chosen prey, maybe she could fade into the background. Maybe she could–
Her heel caught on something and she tumbled, gracelessly, to the floor. It took her several moments to register the lake of blood seeping warm and sticky into her clothing. 
Terror blurred her brain in a white flash bang.
Disappear, disappear, disappear…
“Mm. What do we have here?”
Eloise couldn’t bring herself to lift her head. She clamped her eyes shut, another child’s illusion of protection. 
The villain opposite her chuckled. He ripped her volunteer badge off of its clip against her chest. Her eyes snapped open again. She recognized him as a ringleader among superpowered thieves. They called him Volt.
“Volunteer, eh? A pretty thing like you should know better than to willingly set foot in a prison full of men with nothing left to lose. It’s been a long sentence, darling. I could make excellent use of your volunteer services. Get up.”
Numbly, ears full of static, Eloise shook her head.
Volt frowned, electricity jumping to life in his palms. “No?” He reached for her, hand nearing her throat.
“Keep your hands to yourself or I will remove them.” 
Artisan’s voice was calm. His eyes were not.
The room quieted.
Spatters of red decorated Artisan’s prison uniform. A few drops dotted his face and he brushed them away with his knuckles, smearing the crimson across his cheek. Almost lazily, he popped his neck and stretched his shoulders, no doubt sore from the strain his restraints kept him in.
The villain across from Eloise paused, sparks still dancing across his fingertips. He regarded Artisan with the same wary caution as Frenzy had.
Before he'd been… Before Artisan had…
Eloise swallowed back the nausea climbing her throat.
Finally, Volt’s hand lowered. “She's yours?”
“She's hers. Step away.”
The man hesitated a moment too long. Artisan didn't offer a second warning. 
As if puppeted, the man's fingers raised to gauge at his own eyes. He screamed, the faint evidence of Artisan’s power shimmering over him. He clawed, next, at the skin on his face, peeling it back like wet wallpaper. 
As promised, his wrists crunched and bent, wrenching all on their own at impossible angles.
Eloise covered her ears, unable to bear the screaming. She felt sick.
“Stop,” she whispered finally. “Please.”
It did. The man collapsed into a sobbing, bloodied heap.
When Eloise managed to look at Artisan, she startled to find his attention fixed on her.
They stared at each other for a stretch of silence that itched. She imagined being forced to choke on her own lungs, or her skull constricting in on itself until it squashed her brain into pulp. For being so bold as to run, he might snap her legs and reaffix them the wrong direction, or splinter her bones to poke, grotesque, out of her skin. They always did say that his victims were his personal works of art, bodies twisted into shells of monsters.
He crooked a finger, beckoning her.
The edges of her vision swooped fuzzy and vertiginous. She rose onto wobbly knees and pushed herself to her feet. When she swayed, Artisan caught her elbow, slipping an arm around her waist to lead her forward.
He did not look back at the others, with complete confidence that no one would challenge him.
No one did.
Eloise was barely aware of taking one step after another. When they arrived back in the villain’s cell, the bodies of Frenzy and the dead guard, thankfully, were gone, though the floor was streaked with the drag lines of their blood.
She wrenched her gaze away.
Artisan’s hand moved further down her arm to her wrist, gesturing that she sit on his bed. When she shifted to do so, his grip tightened, tugging her to a stop. She frozen and tried to read his face. 
His dark brows were furrowed, suspicious eyes flicking from hers down to her hand.
He pulled down her sleeve and held her wrist up between them, revealing the power-blocking cuff clamped around it. His head cocked. He waited.
Eloise swallowed. “I’m not a super. I mean- not a super-super. Just a…..no one.”
“A no-one who volunteers at The Max? With a power-dampener?”
“They’re terms of my probation,” she blurted. “A thousand hours of community service here and a power-inhibitor for a year. I think they put me here to threaten me with where I could end up if I continue on like… Um…”
“Me.”
“A villain,” she clarified, as if that was better. 
Her gaze flitted from the fingers wrapped around her wrist and up to the villain’s face again. The harsh lighting haloed him, dimly silhouetting his face. He looked haunting. He looked lovely. A beautiful house, old and creaking, wrapped in ghosts like a bride’s veil and left to rot. 
“What did you do?”
“I…” Eloise felt very small. “I lied about being powered on my documents. So that they wouldn’t put me on the registry. When they found me out, I tried to run away.”
Artisan’s scrutiny burned her cheeks. He let go of her wrist.
“...What can you do?”
“Nothing special,” she said, cradling her wrist–wholly uninjured as it was–in her other hand. “It doesn’t even work most of the time. My power is sort of…blending in. Going unnoticed. When it’s working, I could stand in a the White House and people’s attention would glide over me as if I belonged there. Not quite invisible, but… It just tricks your brain into not thinking twice.”
Artisan’s eyes narrowed.
Eloise flinched back a step, stumbling back over her fallen book onto the bed. She stared at him.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
Some of the tension eased from her shoulders, but she still waited for the catch. “Why aren’t you out there with the rest of them? Trying to escape?”
The villain considered her for a long moment. He sat down beside her, and the hard cot creaked beneath his weight. “Mm. That’s just it. No one inside the prison could have blown the power-dampeners. They require someone with powers to turn them off or on, and the security is impenetrable. My team has tried. Besides, if this was a simple power outage, the inhibitors would still be on. But they’re not. This was premeditated–and no one imprisoned here could have done it. No one on the outside could have done it. So. Process of elimination. Who’s left?”
That was the most Eloise had ever heard Artisan speak, and she could only sit and listen intently–As he had when she’d read him stories. Her brain whirred in a jumbled jigsaw of puzzle pieces. 
“It… It could only be an inside job.” She wet her lips. “The heroes- The higher-ups- They want the prisoners to break out so that they can kill them. A clean massacre. Justified under the law. The world’s most dangerous criminals could never be allowed to escape…”
Artisan smiled and it swirled something in her insides. “A convenient way to get rid of all of the pesky criminals clogging up the system. I’d bet anything that there are 50 snipers surrounding the building, waiting to slaughter anyone who steps foot outside.”
“Oh.”
“Oh,” Artisan agreed, his smile easing into something softer; something with less feral teeth.
“Thank you for helping me,” Eloise whispered. “What do we do now?”
Artisan hummed. He bent down and swept up her book, dropping it into her lap. He laid back against his pillow and crossed his arms behind his head. The bloodspots on his skin and clothes glittered in the lowlight. 
“Keep reading. I want to know how it ends.”
Part 2
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solar-wing · 6 months
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⚣ Nightwing's Shadow 🌙
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🌃 | Part 1 | 🌃
⚣🌙 A/N → had to re-upload since it wasn't showing up in tags and I couldn't figure out why. very different from the original I posted. may end up turning into 4 parts... dear lord help me. anyway, someone get me some holy water...QUICKLY! WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | Omegaverse | Alpha Dick Grayson | Omega Male Reader | Dub-Con | M-PREG Themes | TW: B!ackmail/Coercion | Oral Play | Fingering | Full Sex | Obsessive Behavior
⚣🌙 Summary → So much for being a symbol. He gave in to Dick, gave into the thing he was fighting so hard against. And now, he's about to find out the consequences of his actions. Y/N's life as well as Shadow's is about to flip upside down.
⚣🌙 Words → 11.3K
REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💜
⚣ ENJOY 🌙
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Well, so much for being a symbol.
Y/N, aka Shadow, the Omega Savior, could not think of any other moment in his life where his ego and dignity were this bruised. How did he go from this prideful, independent Omega, who fought against society’s rules and roles that allowed barbaric Alphas to treat his kind like sex objects, only to give in just because he had this intense curiosity and attraction to his former boss’ adopted son?
Serious question, like an answer is needed.
Even if no one else had been a witness to his deplorable choice and weak resolve against a hot and demanding Alpha, Y/N couldn’t help the shame and humiliation he felt after letting himself get fucked and bred in his old office by Dick Grayson. The same Alpha who had been pursuing harassing him for months as both Dick and Nightwing, his vigilante alter-ego which Y/N had also just discovered as well.
How he didn’t make the connection earlier that they were the same person was beyond him.
Thankfully, the only other potential witness to Y/N’s display of horrible decision-making had hopefully run and left the building as instructed. The last thing he wanted and needed was for his former co-worker and friend, Wyndall to see him become another victim/statistic to the fucked up society they lived in that made Omegas nothing more than house slaves and fuck possessions for their Alpha counterparts.
Again, so much for being a symbol.
And now, as he was carried over the shoulder of Nightwing, bound and gagged with a freshly fucked and bred hole, he began to realize just how much his curiosity was about to cost him.
They made their way from Y/N’s office to the parking garage where the Batmobile waited for them. The acrobat deposited them both into the vehicle, setting the Omega down on his lap rather than the passenger seat while plugging in their route back to the Batcave.
As the car made its way out of the garage, Y/N struggled in his restraints, feeling uncomfortable not just from the situation, but from the noticeable hard-on currently pressing into his bottom from the Alpha.
Nightwing chuckled, tightening his grip around the Omega, and nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent.
"You smell so good, baby. So sweet. I can't wait to get you home and take my time with you," He said while rubbing his fingers up and down the Omega's body creating a light tickling sensation through his spandex suit.
Y/N moaned softly through the cloth gag Dick had put on him when he wouldn't stop making noises in the hall trying to alert anyone of the security guards that were probably still knocked out. His body was still sensitive after their little 'fun time' in his old office, and the Alpha's touch was sending shivers all throughout his body.
He hated how easily his body responded to the man while Nightwing chuckled, his hands moving to the Omega's hips, holding him still.
"Don't worry, we'll be home soon. Then I can take care of you properly."
Y/N whined, trying to move away from the man's touch, but the Alpha held him firmly on his lap. He even forced the Omega to lean back against him so he could nuzzle his face and neck while ghosting his fingers down the front of the smaller male's body.
"Hmm, if only this ride wasn't so short and we weren't being expected. I'd love to just slip my cock into you right now and fill you up again. Or maybe I could bend you over the console and we could do it doggy. I think there's enough room in here for that," Nightwing mused, his hand slipping inside the front of the Omega's pants, and rubbing his fingers over the still throbbing and leaking cunt under his suit.
Y/N whimpered, his eyes rolling back as the Alpha continued to tease him, his fingers slowly dipping inside him, and rubbing his nub and cocklette.
"You're still so wet and open for me, baby. I bet you'd love to have my knot buried deep inside you, wouldn't you?"
Y/N moaned through his gag, his mind becoming clouded by the pleasure the Alpha was giving him. He didn't want to admit it, but the idea of the vigilante fucking him while driving sounded so hot.
"What's that, Y/N? I couldn't quite understand you," Nightwing asked, clearly mocking and teasing him while his fingers stopped their movements and pulled out of the Omega's pants.
Y/N groaned, his body trembling and shaking from the sudden loss of stimulation. He knew Dick was an asshole, but this was just an even bigger reminder of how much an asshole he could be. He tried to grind his hips back against the growing hard-on, hoping to get him to continue, but the Alpha held him still.
"Ah, ah, ah, Y/N. You're going to have to use your words. If you want something, then you're going to have to ask for it nicely."
Y/N growled, his cheeks turning red from embarrassment and anger.
"Mmmph!"
"Oh, come on, baby. Don't be like that. Just say the magic word, and I'll give you what you want," Nightwing purred, his fingers lightly tracing the outline of the Omega's covered hole through the spandex pants of his suit, teasing his opening.
Y/N shook his head, refusing to give the Alpha the satisfaction of hearing him beg.
"Okay, if you're not going to cooperate, then I guess I'll just have to stop," Nightwing sighed, pulling his hand away.
"MMMPH!"
"I'm sorry, baby, I still can't understand you," Nightwing teased, his smirk evident in his voice.
Y/N groaned, his cheeks burning with embarrassment and arousal while he just lay his head back against the glass window in defeat. He was so turned on and needy, and the Alpha was just taunting him.
Nightwing, ever the sadistic tease, chuckled at the Omega's frustrated and aroused state, "Oh, Y/N. You have no idea how gratifying this is. I mean, look at the irony of this whole situation. You spent months refusing and resisting me, acting all proud and mighty like you were too good for me. And now, you're sitting here on my lap helpless, filled with my cum, and begging for me to just touch you. It's almost poetic, in a sense. You're not the only one who's curious, Y/N. I've been dreaming for months about what it would be like to have you, and now I finally do. And I'm never letting you go."
Y/N's eyes widened, his heart racing as he listened to the Alpha's words.
"And tonight's only the beginning. We're still working on the smaller details, but our lives together are just starting," Nightwing whispered against the Omega's ear, his lips ghosting over the soft and delicate skin while his hands continued to play with his body, "I can't wait to make you fully mine."
The Omega shivered, his body tingling from the Alpha's words and touch. He couldn't deny that a part of him was excited, but the other part was terrified.
What exactly did the vigilante mean by their lives together? And what smaller details was he vaguely speaking about?
Y/N's mind was racing, his thoughts and emotions swirling in his head. His mind was so unfocused, that he didn't even notice as they broke off from the main road, driving around a small mountainside while approaching a hidden entrance in the cliffside.
"Welcome home, babe," Nightwing muttered into his ear while softly nibbling on the lobe with his teeth before pulling off with a smirk, "Don't worry, we'll christen the car later. Batman won't mind."
Y/N's eyes widened, his body stiffening as the realization hit him.
This was the Batcave.
He was in the Batcave.
Shit.
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After the autopilot parked the car and the hatch opened, Nightwing hopped out with Y/N back over his shoulder, the Omega grunting and struggling in the hold as he made his way over to the center console where Batman was waiting for him.
"Nightwing." Y/N's body stilled at the sound of the Dark Knight's voice.
"Batman," Nightwing greeted, his tone cheerful and relaxed.
"You're late."
"Yeah, sorry about that. We had some issues we needed to work through first before we could head back," Nightwing apologized, his tone not sounding apologetic at all.
Y/N rolled his eyes at the vague, but obvious statement, trying to ignore the hand slowly creeping between his thighs. It was already embarrassing enough that his first time meeting Batman started with his lower half basically being on full display as he hung over the acrobat's shoulder, but, Dick clearly had no reservations about his actions.
This man had no shame. Y/N would say it was admirable if it didn't come at his expense.
"I can see that," Batman replied, his gaze looking over the Omega's bound and gagged form, "I assume your mission was a success."
"Yep, and I have the proof right here," Nightwing stated, his hand cupping the Omega's ass, squeezing his cheek.
Y/N jumped, his body jolting in surprise and embarrassment.
"Nightwing, please."
"Sorry, B. I'm just really happy," Nightwing chuckled, his hand moving down from the Omega's rear, and resting between his thighs again.
Y/N had never felt more mortified in his life. If Batman was who he thought he was, then Dick had just groped him not only in front of the Omega's former boss but his own adoptive father.
"I can see that," Batman remarked, his eyes glancing over the Omega once more, "If you're done, I'd like to speak with Shadow."
"Sure, B. I'll leave him in your capable hands," Nightwing agreed, his fingers lightly brushing the Omega's clothed cunt, causing him to squirm.
"Nightwing," Batman warned.
"Sorry, B. I'll be good," Nightwing apologized, his hand moving away from the Omega's nether region before slowly letting him down onto his feet, copping another feel of the smaller male's plump behind in the process.
Y/N jumped at the feel, throwing a heated glare at the Alpha who had a shit-eating grin on his face while turning him to face the Dark Knight. Seriously, did this man not have any shame?
"Alright, baby, I'll leave you in the capable hands of the Bat. Behave yourself," Nightwing ordered, kissing the top of his head, and smacking his ass before walking away.
Yeah, that answer would be a strong no still.
Y/N yelped, his cheeks flushing red as the vigilante walked away, leaving him alone with the Dark Knight.
"Shadow," Batman spoke, his voice low and commanding, "It's good to finally meet you after so long. I trust your trip was uneventful."
Y/N narrowed his eyes, glaring at the man. Was he playing with him? Because if he was, it wasn't funny.
"Normally, I prefer speaking under more hospitable conditions but seeing as you weren't cooperating before, some drastic measures had to be taken," Batman explained, his eyes glancing down at the restraints and gag, "Now, I'm sure you have a lot of questions, and I'm willing to answer them, but I'm going to need you to listen and follow my instructions. Can you do that?"
Y/N nodded after a moment, his eyes watching the man carefully.
"Good. Now, I'm going to remove the gag, and then I will release you from your binds. However, if you try anything, I will have no choice but to restrain you again. Do you understand?"
Y/N nodded, his body tense and ready to bolt.
"Alright, I'm going to release the gag now."
Y/N watched as the Dark Knight reached out, his gloved hand gently gripping the back of his head, and slowly removing the cloth from his mouth.
"There, is that better?"
Y/N nodded, choosing to remain silent since his throat was dry from his mouth being gagged for such a long period, and since he didn't quite trust himself not to immediately start cursing him and his arrogant son to the 7th circle of hell the moment he opened his mouth.
"Good. Now, I'm going to remove the restraints. Please don't move," Batman instructed, his hands moving to the rope bonds around his wrists, legs, and arms.
Y/N watched as the Dark Knight cut and removed the rope, his eyes darting around the cave, looking for a possible escape route.
"Don't bother. Even if you managed to get past me, you wouldn't make it far," Batman stated, his eyes focused on the task at hand.
Y/N glared, his eyes narrowing at the man.
"I'm not trying to threaten you, Shadow. I'm just trying to make this transition easier for you in any way that I can. It's understandable if you are upset and angry, and I'm not trying to force you into anything, but I hope you'll consider listening to what I have to say."
Y/N looked up at the Dark Knight, his eyes studying the man's expression. He didn't seem to be lying, and his scent nor body language was giving off any signs of deceit. He'd listen, only if it gave him more time to think of a way out of this mess.
"Thank you. Now, I'm sure you have questions, and I'm willing to answer them, but there are some things that need to be discussed first," Batman said, his voice calm and collected, "First, I would like to apologize for the methods used to bring you here. They were not ideal, and I know they were probably not the best first impression, but it was necessary. I'm sure I don't need to inform you of the importance of keeping your identity a secret."
"No, you don't," Y/N answered, his voice hoarse and scratchy.
"Good. Now, I'm sure you're wondering why we brought you here. At first, it was merely to discuss the effects of your presence in Gotham and the impact you've had on the city. While I was impressed, I prefer to have a tight rein on what goes on in this city, and that includes those who protect it and its people," Batman explained, his eyes staring down at the Omega.
"So, what? Are you saying I'm a threat to the city or something?"
"No, not a threat, but a potential liability. You've been running around the city, taking matters into your own hands, and while I admire the effort, it's not safe. There are a lot of dangerous people in this city, and the last thing I want is for someone else to get hurt because of their actions."
"I'm not a child. I can take care of myself," Y/N argued, his eyes narrowing.
"I'm not saying you can't. But, the fact is, you're an Omega, and while you may have a high tolerance, you're still susceptible to the effects of an Alpha's pheromones. Especially when they're using their pheromones to control or manipulate you," Batman countered, his eyes watching the smaller male.
Y/N's fist clenched under his folded arms, "Oh, so because I'm an Omega, I'm not fit to protect this city. Hmm, that's a bit hypocritical of you, Bruce. Considering all the work I did and you signed your name on while I was working for your company," Y/N spat, his anger and frustration getting the better of him.
A moment of silence passed before the Dark Knight moved his hands up, removing the Bat cowl from over his head, revealing his true identity as Bruce Wayne.
"Apologies if I've offended you, but the truth remains as is. You're an exceptional individual, Y/N, and I'm not denying that. But, the fact is, you're an Omega, and there are a lot of Alphas out there who would use that to their advantage. I'm not saying you're incapable, but I am saying that it would be safer if you were under my guidance and direction and had someone watching your back."
"And let me guess, that's where you and the rest of the Bat-family come in," Y/N scoffed, his eyes glaring at the man.
"Yes, and no. The others will be informed, and they'll be available should you ever need their assistance, but the one who will be primarily responsible for you will be Nightwing."
"Excuse me?!"
"Nightwing will be the one who will watch over you and assist you during missions. He'll also be the one who will help you learn and adjust to the new changes and rules that will be put in place," Batman explained, his tone firm and unwavering.
"New changes and rules? What the hell are you talking about?"
"As I mentioned earlier, the main reason we brought you here was to discuss the effects of your presence and how to proceed from here. And in doing so, I'm sure you've noticed that Nightwing, or Dick, has become quite smitten with you," Bruce stated, his eyes staring down at the smaller male.
Y/N's cheeks flushed, his eyes holding his silent fury (and arousal), "Oh, I'm more than aware."
"Good. Then, I'm sure you're also aware of his intentions and desires."
"Unfortunately."
"Then, you'll also be aware of the fact that he's not going to stop until he gets what he wants," Bruce continued, his eyes never leaving the Omega's, "Now, I consider myself to be a simple man. While I'm aware I don't have the most traditional parental relationship, it doesn't make my desire to provide my kids with what makes them happy any less."
"And what exactly does that have to do with me?"
"Everything. Biological or not, Dick is my son, and as his father, it's my job to make sure he's happy. And, while I may not be completely supportive of his methods, I'm not going to be the one that denies him his happiness. So, I'm willing to compromise and allow him to have you."
"Allow him to have me? Excuse me, but I'm not a possession, Mr. Wayne. I'm a person, and no one, not even you or your son, can make decisions for me and my life like some puppetmaster," Y/N growled, his eyes narrowing at the man.
"I'm sorry you see it that way, Y/N. I'm just offering a solution and a chance for us both to get what we want."
"And, what exactly is it that you believe I want, Mr. Wayne?" Y/N asked with a cold glare.
"You want to protect and save the people of Gotham, especially Omegas, and I'm willing to let you, but only if you agree to my terms."
"Which are?"
"For starters, you will no longer be operating as an independent hero. From now on, you will be a part of my team, or "Bat-Family" as you so-called it, and you will report directly to me and the others. You will also be required to undergo training and conditioning, which will include the development of your skills, knowledge, and abilities. This will also include a physical examination and assessment, which will determine the best course of action and regimen for you," Bruce explained, his eyes watching the Omega's reaction.
"You're joking, right? You want me to join the Bat-Family and go through a physical exam and training? Why? What's the point? I've been doing just fine on my own, and I've done more for the Omega population of this city than you and all your little sidekicks combined."
"I'm not denying that. In fact, I'm quite impressed by your work. But, the fact is, you're an Omega, and despite the strength and determination you have, you're still susceptible to the influence and manipulation of an Alpha. Not only that, but you're not the most skilled fighter, and while you have a strong will, you're not the most disciplined."
"Oh, and I suppose you are?"
"How exactly did you end up here again, Y/N?" Bruce asked, though his tone communicated that it was a rhetorical question.
One that had Y/N's cheeks flushing in embarrassment and anger.
"I'm not trying to insult or degrade you, Y/N. I'm just trying to be realistic. You're a smart, talented, and hard-working individual, and I'm not trying to take that away from you. But, the truth is, you're an Omega, and no matter how much you try to deny it, some things will always be out of your control," Bruce stated, his voice calm and rational.
Y/N's nose twitched, his anger rising rapidly. It was ridiculous what this man was even suggesting. And here, the Omega used to have such a higher opinion of the man he used to proudly call his boss. But now, at this moment, all he could say was another barbaric Alpha saw Omegas as nothing but prizes and trophies.
"And your other terms?" Y/N asked, biting down the vile words he wanted to spit out at the man.
"You will be required to live here at my family estate. This will not only allow you to better adhere to the first terms I've laid out, but it will also allow you but it will also allow myself and our family to better support you. It gives you a chance to connect and bond with the others," Bruce answered, carefully observing the Omega and his reactions.
"What about my apartment? My belongings? What happens to all of that?"
"It will remain yours, and you'll still have access to it along with your belongings, which we can have moved here at your request. I would be in charge of your finances, of course. But, I'd be willing to let you return to your position at Wayne Enterprises with a raise to allow you to have your own money, should you wish," Bruce explained.
Looking at the situation as a whole, someone would consider the offer from the Alpha and billionaire as a no-brainer. Getting to live in a mansion rent-free, and having all your expenses taken care of without needing to work? Who wouldn't want that?
Y/N.
While he couldn't deny the appeal of certain terms that Bruce outlined, he knew there was a catch. There had to be if Bruce was willing to lay it out good for him like this.
Y/N poked his tongue against the inside of his cheek, something the Playboy Billionaire found somewhat amusing, "I see. And, where exactly does your son come into this? How exactly does that work?" Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, that will ultimately be up to the two of you. However, I do consider myself a bit of a traditionalist despite any titles attached to my bachelor status," Y/N did his best to not interrupt and comment on the irony of that sentence, "Since you're an unmated Omega. Dick is an unmated Alpha, I wouldn't find it appropriate for the two of you to share a room or bed."
“Excuse me?” Y/N questioned with a tone of malice to his words.
"The final terms are more personal and should be discussed between yourself and Dick. However, the basic gist is that you will be required to spend time with him, with the eventual expectation that you become his mate. The details regarding that are entirely up to the two of you, but the expectation is that you will be his, he will be yours, and you will bear his children," Bruce stated, his expression and tone not showing any signs of deceit or dishonesty.
Y/N's eyes widened, his heart racing as he listened to the man's words, "What kind of drugs are you people on? "Yeah, that's not happening. I'm not some piece of property or a prize to be won nor am I someone's babymaker. I'm a person, and I'm not going to let you, your son, or anyone else dictate my life and tell me what I can or can't do," Y/N snapped, his body trembling with rage.
Bruce gave him a dissatisfied expression, "Then, I'm afraid we're at an impasse. As much as I would love to continue this discussion, I have other matters to attend to. If you're not going to cooperate, then I'll have no choice but to have you restrained again until you can be turned over to the proper authorities," Bruce stated, his tone firm and unwavering.
Y/N's stomach sank, "Are you serious?!"
"Deadly. You're a vigilante, and while I've allowed you to operate in my city, I'm not going to allow you to continue if you refuse to abide by the rules and regulations I've set forth. I'm not asking you to do anything unreasonable, Y/N," Bruce said, his eyes staring down at the Omega.
"No, you're just asking me to give up my freedom and autonomy, and basically become a glorified house-husband and baby factory for your son," Y/N spat, his fists clenched tightly.
"If that's how you feel, then I'm sorry. But, the decision is yours. Either you can agree to the terms and conditions, or you can refuse, and I'll have no choice but to have you sent away," Bruce replied, his tone and expression not changing.
"And what if I say no to either and just stop being Shadow? I go back to my life, even move out of Gotham, and you continue your little operation here with your rat pack, and everyone's happy," Y/N suggested.
"Everyone except my son," Bruce replied, his gaze looking past the Omega and focusing on the acrobat who was leaning against a pillar in the background, watching the scene unfold.
"Your son's a big boy. He'll get over it," Y/N scoffed.
"Maybe, but I doubt he'll ever forgive me. Or you."
Y/N's eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing before his eyes darted behind him, spotting the vigilante standing there, his arms crossed and a dark expression on his face which was much more intimidating with the lack of his domino mask.
His chest spiked with unease and anger at the sight of the acrobat, wanting nothing more than to take his fist across his face repeatedly. Y/N's fingers twitched, his nails digging into the palm of his hand as he glared at the Alpha.
"I'm not asking you to marry him, at least not yet. I'm asking however that you just give him a chance. Save me, him, and yourself a lot of trouble," Bruce suggested, his eyes glancing over at his son.
The room was silent and the air was filled with tension.
"I'll talk. Even if you send me to jail, I'm sure lots of criminals and people would love to know the identities of Gotham's two most famous protectors. They'd probably pay a pretty penny for that information," Y/N threatened, his eyes never leaving the vigilante.
"You wouldn't."
"Try me," Y/N challenged, his eyes narrowing.
"Fine. Then, I guess we're done here. Dick, please escort Shadow to the holding cell," Bruce ordered, his eyes focused on the Omega.
"Sure thing, B," Dick agreed, his tone casual, but the look in his eyes was anything but.
"What?" The Omega questioned, "I thought you said you'd turn me over to the authorities."
"I did. But, since you've threatened me and my family, I'm not going to risk it. So, you'll be locked down here in our holding cell until I figure out something else for you," Bruce explained, his tone and expression not giving away any hint of emotion.
"You can't do that!"
"I can, and I will. Unless you'd like to reconsider, of course. Your choice, Y/N," Bruce stated, his tone and expression not wavering.
Y/N's mind was racing, his heart pounding as he looked between the Dark Knight and the acrobat. His eyes were wide and frantic, his body shaking slightly.
"Fine. I'll do it," Y/N sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
Bruce's shoulders relaxed, showing his satisfaction with the Omega's answer while Dick was grinning ear-to-ear, his excitement and happiness evident.
"Good. Now, we'll have to discuss the finer details, but for now, I think it's best if you get some rest. You've had a long day, and I'm sure you're exhausted. We can talk more tomorrow," Bruce stated, his tone and expression softening.
"Okay."
"Dick, please show him to his room and make sure he gets settled in. I'll have Alfred bring him some clothes and toiletries," Bruce instructed, his eyes glancing over at his son.
"Sure thing, B. Come on, baby. Let's get you cleaned up and tucked in," Dick purred, his arm wrapping around the Omega's waist, pulling him close.
"I can walk on my own," Y/N growled, his eyes glaring at the Alpha.
"I'm sure you can, but I'd rather not risk it. Besides, I don't mind carrying you," Dick smirked, his hand moving down the Omega's ass, squeezing the plump flesh.
"Stop touching me," Y/N hissed, his eyes narrowing.
"Oh, baby. I haven't even started yet," The Alpha chuckled, his lips ghosting over the shell of the Omega's ear, "But, I promise, I'll be gentle."
Y/N's cheeks flushed red, his body shivering as the Alpha's warm breath tickled his skin.
Before he could move, Y/N found himself back over the Alpha's shoulder, his ass in the air and his face pressed against the vigilante's back.
"Dick," Y/N growled, his fists punching at the Alpha's strong back.
"Don't stay up too long B! See you tomorrow!"
"Goodnight, you two. And, Y/N," Bruce called after the couple, Dick pausing in his strides and turning to the side so they could look back at the older Alpha, "Welcome to the family," Bruce smiled, a tiny one that is.
Y/N's eyes widened, his heart sinking to his stomach.
Dick was grinning even wider, saluting his adoptive father before turning back and continuing his journey out of the cave and up to the manor with the Omega struggling over his shoulder.
"You heard the man. Welcome to the family, babe," Dick said excitedly, his hand firmly gripping the Omega's ass.
"Put me down, asshole," Y/N growled, his hands pushing against the Alpha's back.
"Not a chance, baby," Dick chuckled, his hand smacking the Omega's ass, causing him to yelp.
"Ow! Asshole!"
"Mmm, I can't wait to hear more of those sounds later," Dick purred, his voice low and husky.
"Fuck you."
"Soon, baby. Soon," Dick purred, his fingers lightly tracing the outline of the Omega's cunt through his suit, making him squirm.
"Stop touching me," Y/N growled, his hips pressing closer to the Alpha's hand.
"Mmm, you say that, but your body says otherwise," Dick teased, his finger slowly rubbing the covered slit, his smirk growing when he felt the slick starting to leak through the fabric.
"Fuck you," Y/N hissed, his teeth biting into his lower lip as the Alpha continued to tease him.
"Oh, I plan to, baby. I plan to," The Alpha promised, his hand moving away from the Omega's cunt, and grabbing his ass, squeezing the plump flesh.
Dick hurriedly ran through the manor's halls, heading for a specific destination. One that Y/N noted did not seem to be towards any bedrooms.
"Where are you taking me?"
"Somewhere you should remember quite vividly," Dick answered, his grip tightening on the Omega's ass.
"But, Bruce told you to take me to my room," Y/N reminded, though he figured the Alpha was ignoring him.
"He did, and I will. Once we're done," Dick answered, his tone not leaving any room for argument.
"Done with what?"
"This," The acrobat answered as they reached a door.
It was dark in the halls so Y/N couldn't exactly tell where they were, but he couldn't deny the familiarity of the location.
"Where are we?"
"I think you know," Dick answered, his hand reaching out and opening the door.
He swung the door open and switched on the light while keeping his other arm wrapped tightly around the Omega's thighs, right above the bend of his knees. When Y/N could finally see where they were, the realization hit him like a brick and he immediately began struggling to free himself from the Alpha's hold.
"Oh, so you do remember this place. Good," Dick chuckled, his hand squeezing the Omega's ass, "Now, let's have some fun, shall we?"
Dick closed and locked the door to the bathroom before lifting Y/N off his shoulder and placing him against the countertop sink. The same sink he had pressed against when he ambushed the Omega during the gala celebration.
The moment he was down, the Alpha was on him like a lion on a gazelle. He forced the Omega's legs apart, his hands gripping the smaller male's thighs tightly as he leaned forward and captured the Omega's lips in a heated kiss.
"Mmm, fuck, baby. I've been waiting for this for so long," Dick groaned, his lips trailing down from the Omega's lips to his jaw and neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh.
"Dick, stop," Y/N gasped, his hands pushing against the Alpha's broad chest.
"I can't, baby. Not now. Not when you're finally mine," Dick growled, his hands moving from the Omega's thighs to his hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh that was still covered by his vigilante suit.
"I'm not yours," Y/N argued, his hands pushing harder against the Alpha's chest.
"Yes, you are. You've always been mine, and now, I'm going to make sure you know it," Dick growled, his lips capturing the Omega's once again, his tongue slipping into the smaller male's mouth, "Mmm, fuck, baby. You taste so good," The Alpha moaned, his hands moving from the Omega's hips and sliding down his thighs.
"Dick, please... p-please ... please," Y/N begged, his body trembling as the Alpha's hands moved further down his legs, his fingers brushing against the wet patch of his suit.
"Please, what, baby? What do you want?" Dick asked, his lips moving down the Omega's neck, his teeth nibbling and sucking the tender flesh.
"Please, stop," Y/N pleaded, his hands gripping the material of the Alpha's suit, pressing his knuckles into the mounds of his hard pecs. Y/N tried to ignore the way his body was responding to the Alpha's touch, his cunt throbbing and leaking with slick.
"No, not yet. Not until I've had my fill," Dick growled, his hands gripping the Omega's thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.
"n-nh ... ah ... n-no," Y/N breathed out in stutters, his body trembling as the Alpha's hands moved further down his legs, his fingers brushing against the wet patch of his suit.
"Mmm, fuck, baby. You're so wet. I need to have you," Dick groaned, his lips moving down the smaller neck, his teeth nibbling and sucking the tender flesh while his hands went to work ripping off the Omega's suit.
"H-hey! This suit is custom made you asshole," Y/N snapped, his hands pushing against the Alpha's chest.
"So? It's not like we can't get you a new and better one," Dick replied, his hands tearing the material apart, revealing the Omega's bare chest and leaking nipples.
"You're a fucking prick," Y/N growled.
"And, you're a brat. Now, stop fighting and just enjoy yourself," Dick ordered, licking his lips at the sight of the Omega's chest before leaning down and capturing one of the hardened buds in his mouth.
"Ahh... ahh," Y/N moaned, his hands gripping the Alpha's shoulders tightly as the vigilante sucked and licked his nipple, his teeth lightly grazing the sensitive flesh.
"Mmm, fuck, baby. You taste so good," Dick groaned, his hands running down the Omega's stomach and sides, landing at his waist.
"A-ah, fuck ... !" Y/N's body arched up as he was positioned on the sink by the Alpha so he could rut his body into the Omega's pulsing and wet heat.
"Fuck, baby. You're so wet. I can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cock," Dick growled, his hands moving to the Omega's ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.
"You—f-fuck... Y-You already had me around your cock earlier, remember?" Y/N said, keeping his eyes closed, cause the hot sight of the Alpha towering over him in his vigilante suit and his muscles on display under the tight material was too much for him.
"Yeah, I did, but that was just a preview. Now, I'm going to show you how a real Alpha takes care of his Omega," Dick growled, his hands returning to the tear over the Omega's stomach, his fingers ripping the fabric apart until the suit was in tatters, his body on full display under him like a trophy.
"Fuck, baby. You're so beautiful," Dick groaned, his hands running over the Omega's body, his fingers tracing the curves and dips of the smaller male's form.
"Shut up," Y/N growled, trying to cover himself from the Alpha's prying eyes.
"Stop that. Don't hide from me, baby. I wanna see all of you," Dick growled, his hands grabbing the Omega's wrists and pinning them above his head.
"D-Dick," Y/N moaned, his eyes fluttering shut as the Alpha leaned down and began sucking and biting his neck, his hands keeping his arms pinned above his head.
"Shhh, baby. Let me take care of you," Dick whispered, his lips leaving a kiss on the Omega's swollen and red ones as he moved down his body, bringing his hands with them, "Leave these here," the vigilante commanded, his hands giving the smaller wrist a gentle squeeze.
"F-fuck you," Y/N whined, but he did as he was told.
The Alpha smiled at the obedience from his Omega, his lips continuing their trail down the smaller male's chest and stomach, his teeth nipping and teasing the sensitive skin.
"Mmm, fuck, baby. You're so sexy," Dick moaned, his tongue swirling around the Omega's belly button, his teeth biting and tugging on the skin, "I can't wait to put a baby in you."
Y/N's face turned a deep shade of crimson, his hands clenching into fists as the Alpha's words hit him like a freight train, "S-shut up. Don't say things like that," Y/N stuttered, his body trembling under the Alpha's touch.
"Why not, baby? It's true," Dick whispered, his lips moving down the Omega's body, his tongue licking the wet trail his lips had left, "Mmm, I bet your cute little cunt is going to look so good filled with my knot," The Alpha growled, his hands moving to the Omega's hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.
"F-fuck, Dick...," Y/N moaned, his head falling back against the mirror as the Alpha's hands trailed down his body, his fingers brushing against the soaked folds.
"Mmm, yeah, baby. That's it. Let me hear you," Dick growled, his lips kissing and sucking the inside of the Omega's thighs, his teeth nibbling and biting the sensitive skin, "Mmm, fuck, baby. You're so wet. I can't wait to bury myself deep inside you," His tongue traced around the Omega's entrance, his nose breathing in the sweet and musky scent of the slick, "You smell so good, baby."
"D-Dick... a-ahh... n-ngh," Y/N's body was shaking as the Alpha's mouth was doing wonders on his lower half, his tongue lapping and slurping up the thick juices coming from his core.
"Fuck, baby. You taste so good," Dick moaned, his fingers moving from the Omega's thighs and spreading his glistening cunt, his tongue sliding between the damp insides, "Mmm, fuck. You're so wet," Dick groaned, his tongue thrusting in and out of the small hole, his hands gripping the smaller male's legs.
"F-fuck... a-aah... a-ahh... D-Dick," Y/N cried, his back arching off the cool porcelain counter, his legs wrapping around the Alpha's head, his heels digging into his strong shoulder blades.
"Yeah, baby. Say my name. Tell everyone who's making you feel this good," Dick growled, his mouth attacking the Omega's cunt, his tongue lapping and slurping up the thick fluids.
"F-fuck, Dick... a-aahhh, f-fuck, oh god, yes. Please...," Y/N moaned, his hips rolling against the Alpha's mouth, his legs squeezing his head tighter, "F-fuck, I-I'm gonna...," the Omega's head fell back against the mirror, his eyes closed tightly, his body trembling.
"That's it, baby. Cum for me," Dick purred, his tongue darting into the wet cavern, his hands squeezing the Omega's thighs.
"f-fuck ... oh god ... !"
Y/N's eyes shot open, his body tensing as he felt the Alpha's mouth sucking his nub, "O-oh, oh my god," Y/N whined, biting his lip pathetically as his back arched off the porcelain countertop, his hands flying down to grip the back of his neck and his shoulders.
Dick turned stern eyes up the Omega while lapping up the slick around his mouth, "I thought I told you to keep your hands against the mirror, baby," the Alpha's tone was low and threatening.
"I-It was a reflex" Y/N's voice shook as he looked down at the Alpha, his body trembling, his chest heaving.
"Oh, yeah. Well, guess we're going to have to work on your obedience, then, aren't we?" Dick smirked, his tongue flicking out, collecting the remaining slick around his mouth, his fingers rubbing against the Omega's twitching hole.
Dick stood back up, grabbing Y/N and pulling him off the counter before turning him around and pressing his back toward his front. His large hand gripped the smaller male's jaw, forcing the Omega to look into the mirror in front of him, his insides jumping at the sight of the size difference between himself and the Alpha.
"Look at you, baby. So fucking gorgeous. Just begging to be bred and knotted," Dick purred, his hand cupping the Omega's throat, his lips trailing down his neck, "I'm going to breed you so good, baby. Fill you with my seed, watch you swell and round with my babies" Dick groaned, his other hand slipping between the Omega's legs, his fingers rubbing the wet slit.
"But first, we're going to teach you some self-control," Dick whispered, his fingers sliding through the Omega's wet heat, his thumb circling the swollen nub, causing the smaller male to squirm.
"F-fuck, Dick..."
"I want you to hold still. No matter what I do, no matter how badly you want to move or touch me, don't. Got it, baby?" Dick purred, his teeth nibbling on the shell of the Omega's ear.
"O-okay," Y/N breathed, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
"Good boy," Dick cooed, his hand jerking and squeezing his head up as the other player with his damp entrance, "Now, watch and learn, baby."
"W-watch what?"
"This," the Alpha grinned wickedly.
All of sudden, Y/N felt himself get stuffed with two long digits, his body jerking in reflex as his hands flew to grip the Alpha's strong body.
"Ah, what did I say?" Dick grunted, jerking his head up with his hand while pushing his fingers even harder inside him.
"T-to stay still," Y/N whined, his head rolling back onto the broad shoulder, his hips grinding back into the Alpha's crotch.
"And you're still not listening baby," Dick hissed, his fingers thrusting in and out of the smaller male's cunt.
"I-I can't help it," Y/N whimpered, his hands gripping the Alpha's forearms.
"Oh, really? What if I told you that the longer you do this, the longer it will take before you can cum again. That you need to focus and listen, or you're going to have to go without an orgasm," Dick purred, his thumb circling the Omega's cocklette with his thumb, his teeth nibbling the shell of his ear while staring into the Omega's eyes through the mirror.
"O-oh," Y/N's voice came out more like a gasp as the Alpha's fingers continued to stretch and rub his insides, his body trembling and twitching.
"You think you can handle that, baby?"
"Mmm, f-fuck... n-no."
"Oh, so I guess I'll just stop," Dick stated, beginning to pull his hand away, a string of slick connecting his digits.
"No, wait. Please," Y/N cried, squeezing his hands against the Alpha's forearm still holding his jaw.
"I'm sorry, what did you say, baby?" Dick chuckled, his finger ghosting along the edge of the Omega's entrance, his free hand moving from his chin and cupping the front of his throat.
"P-please. Don't stop," Y/N begged, his back arching as the Alpha's hands resumed their previous activities.
"Then take your hands off me, keep them at your sides, and hold still," Dick ordered, his fingers plunging into the smaller male's core, his other hand squeezing his throat gently.
"H-haaah! F-fuck!" Y/N nodded, his hands falling back to his sides, his fingers digging into his thigh, his eyes closing in pleasure.
"Keep those eyes open and looking at yourself. Watch every move I make, and if you can't, I'll stop," Dick growled, his hand pumping in and out of the tight channel, his palm rubbing the Omega's throbbing cocklette.
"A-aah, okay," Y/N gasped, his body shuddering as the Alpha's fingers continued to pound into his cunt, his thumb circling the sensitive nub, "A-aah, oh fuck."
"Good boy. You're being such a good boy, taking my fingers so well. Think you can take a third one?"
"Y-yes, please. Yes," Y/N whimpered, his hips rocking back against the Alpha's palm, his fingers sinking into his ass, "M-more."
"Keep still," Dick warned, his fingers slowing down, his third digit teasing the rim, "Relax, baby."
"S-sorry," Y/N mumbled, his muscles relaxing, allowing the Alpha to push his third finger into his already stuffed hole.
"Fuck, baby. You're so tight. And, hot," Dick groaned, his hand turning the Omega's head towards him so he could capture his lips in a heated kiss, his tongue tangling with the smaller man’s while his fingers pumped in and out of the dripping entrance.
"A-ah, f-fuck," Y/N whined against Dick's lips, his nails scratching the insides of his palms as he did his best to hold his body still, wanting nothing more than to achieve his release.
"Are you getting close, baby? Are you going to cum soon?" Dick whispered against Y/N's mouth, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling on it.
"Mmm, f-fuck, a-aahh," Y/N nodded, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, his hands clenching hard into fists.
"What's wrong, baby? Can't speak? Is my baby overwhelmed? Hmmm, maybe you'd like me to stop," Dick teased, his fingers slowing their pace, his thumb ceasing the pressure on the Omega's aching core.
"N-no! Fuck, please, don't stop. I-I'm going to...," Y/N moaned, his eyes shutting as the Alpha's hands slowed, his body trembling.
"Eyes, baby," Dick reminded, his lips trailing down to the side of the Omega's neck, his teeth nibbling and sucking the tender flesh.
Y/N quickly obeyed, his eyes shooting open and focusing back on the two figures in the mirror. He bit his lip hard, his hips rocking and grinding, trying desperately to bring his release.
"A-ah, f-fuck," Y/N breathed heavily, his back arching, his head leaning back onto the Alpha's broad shoulder.
"Look at you. Such a pretty little slut," Dick cooed, his finger's movements becoming more intense, his lips leaving kisses and bites along the Omega's exposed neck.
"A-ah, h-haaa, o-oh god," Y/N cried, his back arching further, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, and his hands balled into tight fists.
"Yes, baby. Cum for me. Show me how much you like my fingers, how much you like the way I finger you," Dick groaned, his fingers curling and thrusting deeper inside the smaller male, his thumb pressing harder against his cocklette.
"Fuck, baby. You're so tight and hot. I can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cock," Dick rumbled, his hand releasing the Omega's throat, moving to cup his chest and twist and squeeze his nipple, "Mmm, I can't wait to see these things full, feeding our babies."
"F-fuck... y-you're... n-not going to knock me u-up," Y/N growled, his back arching, his ass grinding and rolling back into the Alpha's front, his nails breaking the skin on his palms.
"We'll see about that, baby. I'll bet you're already so fertile. And, when I'm done, you'll have no choice but to carry and give birth to all the babies I put inside you," Dick purred, his fingers twisting and rubbing the smaller male's nipple.
"O-oh, oh fuck. Mmm, fuck," Y/N breathed out, his body shaking and trembling, his nails now scratching at his thighs.
"That's right, baby. Cum. Cum for me. Show me how much you love my fingers fucking you," Dick cooed, his thumb pressing hard against the Omega's aching nub, his fingers twisting and pumping inside his tight channel.
"A-ah, h-haaa... f-fuuuuck," Y/N whined, his head falling back onto the Alpha's shoulder, his back arched and his chest heaving.
"Yes, baby. Let go. Cum for me. Cum," Dick whispered, his lips leaving kisses and bites along the smaller's male's jaw and neck, his hand pinching and squeezing his hardened bud.
"H-ha, ahh... !"
The Omega's vision blurred and his hearing became muffled. His body convulsed and spasmed, his hips buckling wildly, barely managing to keep his eyes open as he climax splashed onto the floor below, his thighs and Dick's fingers covered in slick.
"Fuck, baby. You're so beautiful," Dick purred, his fingers pumping the Omega through his orgasm.
"A-ah, f-fuck," Y/N panted, his chest heaving and his hips twitching.
"You did so good, baby. Such a good boy, listening and obeying," Dick praised, his lips leaving a kiss where his mark would go on the Omega's neck, his hands moving to his hips, pulling the smaller male closer, his hard bulge rubbing against his bare ass.
"M-mmm," Y/N whimpered, his body still twitching and shivering.
"Now, be a good boy and turn around," Dick instructed, his hands giving the smaller male a light squeeze.
Y/N turned, his legs shaking, his heart pounding. The vigilante wasted no time grabbing his hips, hoisting him up, and sitting him on the countertop.
"Put your hands on the sink, spread your legs, and don't move," Dick instructed, his eyes burning into the Omega's, his fingers tracing the shape of his slick-covered hole.
Y/N did as he was told, his body trembling as the Alpha's eyes looked him over, a wicked smirk appearing on his face.
"So pretty, all spread out and ready for me," Dick cooed, his large hands spreading the smaller male's thighs apart, his eyes raking over his glistening slit, his cocklette still pulsing, his hole winking, "You look so good, baby. So sexy."
Suddenly, the bathroom was filled with a deep and musky scent, it sending Y/N into a pleasurable spasm as his eyes went wide at the smell, "O-ohh, fuck ... ! Alpha!"
Dick smirked at the Omega, writhing and begging for him on the counter, realizing what was happening. "Looks like I started pouring, baby. Couldn't help it though, you're just so sexy."
The acrobat pulled the smaller male to the edge, his knees resting on the Alpha's hips.
"Dick, please, I can't—," Y/N begged, his mind a scrambled mess from the Alpha's pheromones clouding every brain cell in his head.
"Shhh, baby. I've got you," Dick soothed, his hands gripping the smaller male's thighs and pulling him against his crotch.
"get inside of me ... now ..." Y/N whined, his chest rising and falling, his cunt gushing even more slick and his nipples leaking even more cream, his body begging to be fucked.
"Do you really think you’re in a position to give orders?"
"p-please ... please give it to me ... " Y/N whimpered, his hips squirming, trying to get some form of friction, "I need you. I need your knot."
"As much as I love hearing you beg, and I do, you have been quite a handful today," Dick's voice dropped, his grip on the Omega's thighs becoming painful, "Maybe you're not worth the effort. Maybe I should find someone else, a proper Omega who knows how to listen," the Alpha threatened, his fingers digging into the soft, yielding flesh.
"No! Please, no. I-I'm sorry, please. I'm sorry," Y/N pleaded, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his arms threatening to give out, "I-I'll be good. I'll listen."
"And, why should I believe you, baby?" Dick chuckled, his thumbs lightly brushing the underside of the smaller male's supple, thick thighs, his fingers still digging into the plush, warm flesh.
"I'll be good, I promise. I'll be your good Omega, let you fuck me, mark me all you want, give you lots of babies, and do whatever you say," Y/N whimpered, his chest heaving, his nipples and cunt aching, his legs trembling.
"Oh, and you're going to listen, aren't you?" Dick teased, his fingers trailing along the inside of the Omega's quivering thighs, his thumbs ghosting over his swollen and dripping core.
"y-yes. whatever you want!" Y/N whined, his hands clawing at the counter, his legs shaking, his eyes locked onto the Alpha's, his hips rocking, spreading his legs even more to get the Alpha to fuck him.
"Such a good, little Omega," Dick growled before working to remove his suit, Y/N watching in anticipation, his heart racing.
When his suit was fully off, his length throbbing and standing at attention, he lined himself up with the Omega's leaking entrance, the head of his cock teasing the twitching hole, his fingers spreading the wet folds.
"Please, Dick, no teasing," Y/N whined, his chest rising and falling as he felt the tip of the Alpha's cock tease his entrance, his body screaming for him to fill him and take him.
"Don't worry, baby. I'm gonna give you what you want," Dick cooed, his free hand cupping the back of the Omega's head, his lips capturing the smaller man's in a heated kiss, "But first..."
Dick grabbed something on the side of them, holding it up as he kept rubbing his length over the Omega's throbbing cunt. When he held it up for Y/N to see, the Omega felt his chest almost seize up.
"Remember this," Dick held up the candle holder Y/N used against the Alpha's head when he had him pinned in here the last time, "Answer me," The Alpha's tone was dangerous.
"Yes, I remember," Y/N's voice was small, his entire body on edge and trembling.
"Good. You remember what you did with this the last time we were in here?" Dick asked with an angry fire in his eyes.
"Yes,"
"Say it."
"I knocked you over the head with the candle holder,"
"Correct," Dick replied, "Now, say you're sorry."
"What?!"
"You heard me. Apologize for knocking me over the head with this, and I'll fuck you and let you cum. And if you don't, I'm not going to fuck you. I'll leave you here and have Alfred show you your room."
"You're serious, aren't you?"
"Very," Dick nodded, the anger in his eyes was unmistakable.
"Okay, okay. Sorry," Y/N muttered.
"Excuse me?" Dick said, his eyebrows raised, "You'll have to speak up."
"Sorry,"
"Sorry, what? Try again," Dick ordered.
"I knocked you over the head with a candle holder."
“I hear an acknowledgment, not an apology.”
"Ugh, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, for knocking you over the head with the candle holder," Y/N whined, his entire body feeling like a livewire.
"Good, good. See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Dick smiled, his hand gently stroking the Omega's hair, "Now, apologize for denying and rejecting me."
"Dick," Y/N growled, his fingers clenching into fists.
"If you want me to fuck you, apologize. If you don't, we can call it a night, and you can go to your room without my knot," Dick warned, his eyes locking onto the Omega's, "Your choice."
Y/N clenched his teeth, his eyes glaring at the Alpha. He didn't want to apologize, didn't think he had any reason to.
But, his body was aching and throbbing, his chest was leaking, his cunt was soaked and aching, his cocklette was throbbing.
"Fine," Y/N finally agreed.
"Apologize, then," Dick stated, his gaze not wavering.
"f-fuck, fine. Fine, I'm sorry, alright?! I'm sorry," Y/N snarled, his knuckles turning white.
"Good, and I forgive you," Dick's leaned down, his naked, muscled covering the Omega's as he delivered a fiery kiss onto his lips, his tongue dominating the smaller male's mouth.
Y/N melted into the kiss, his arms wrapping around the larger man's neck, his nails scraping along his shoulder blades feeling the hot skin of the Alpha under his fingers while his legs wrapped around the larger man's waist.
Dick's hand slipped between them, taking his cock in his hand and lining it up with the Omega's entrance, his lips never leaving the smaller man's, his tongue tangling and fighting against the Omega's.
Y/N groaned and moaned, his hips rolling and grinding into the Alpha's, his cunt already starting to drool even more slick, his chest heaving.
Dick broke the kiss, a line of saliva connecting their lips, his breath mingling with the Omega's, his eyes locked onto the smaller man's, "I'm not going to be gentle, and you better not fight me, or I'll make sure you won't walk for a week."
"n-nh ... ah ..." Y/N shuddered, the heat of the Alpha's body was making him dizzy while his pheromones from his pouring were making him lightheaded.
"That's right, baby. Fuck," Dick purred, his hips thrusting forward, the head of his cock sliding through the Omega's wet slit and popping into his tight, dripping, hot hole, "Fuck, you're so tight. You feel fucking amazing," the Alpha rumbled, his cock pushing deeper into the smaller male's channel, his eyes trained on the Omega's.
"h-haaah! f-fuck ... oh god ... !" Y/N's nails dug into the larger man's skin, his chest heaving and his thighs clenching, his legs and toes curling as the Alpha's cock pushed deep inside him, stretching and filling him, "A-ah, o-oh fuck, s-so big."
"Mmm, fuck, don’t you dare fucking move..." Dick moaned, his hips pushing forward until he was buried inside the smaller male's core, his shaft coated with slick and his walls tightly clinging to his length, his hands squeezing the Omega's soft thighs, "God, baby, you're so fucking hot and tight. Even better the second time."
"S-shut up," Y/N hissed, his back arching, his fingers and nails scratching and digging into the larger man's shoulders.
"Aw, does that mean I wasn't good enough for you last time, baby?" Dick teased, his nose and lips brushing against the smaller male's, his tongue running along his bottom lip.
"S-stop teasing me and f-fuck me already," Y/N breathed, his chest rising and falling as he looked into the Alpha's burning blue eyes.
"So, needy," Dick cooed, his fingers gripping the smaller male's thighs, his hips snapping forward, his cock pulling out until only the tip was inside the Omega's quivering entrance.
"H-aaah, o-oh fuck... a-ah,"
Without warning, Dick thrust back inside the Omega, his pace quickening and his thrusts becoming more brutal, the sounds of skin slapping and moans filled the bathroom, the mirror fogging up and the cabinets under the sink rattling.
"Fuck, baby, your cunt is just sucking me in. Mmm, fuck, you're perfect," Dick moaned, his hips pounding and bucking, his balls slapping against the smaller male's ass, his cock hitting his G-spot with each thrust.
Dick was a merciless fuck.
Appearances really were deceiving, as Y/N thought about any person who thought of Dick as a lighthearted, gentle person. This motherfucker could be a cruel villain when he wanted to be, especially when it came to the down and dirty.
He had Y/N's arms wrapped around his sweaty back and his legs around his waist like a child holding on to a parent while he rammed into his body. His fingers dug into the smaller male's thighs and ass, his nails leaving scratches and bruises on his hips and back, and his teeth sunk into his skin, marking him with hickeys, bites, and bruises.
Y/N could already feel his legs and bottom becoming sore from the Alpha's harsh treatment of his body, but the pleasure of being stuffed and taken was making him feel a high he didn't want to come down from.
"F-fuck, Dick," the Omega whined, his nails digging and scratching the Alpha's skin, his heels pressing hard into the bigger man's lower back right about his butt.
"Mmm, yeah, baby. That's it. Say my name," Dick growled, his hips pistoning, his balls slapping against the Omega's ass.
"O-oh, fuck Dick... y-your so big," Y/N moaned, his body arching into the acrobat's sweaty chest
"Yeah, baby. Take all of it. Feel me stretching you, stuffing you, claiming you," Dick hissed, his tongue licking and lapping at the smaller male's ear, his teeth nibbling the shell.
"I-it's too much. You're too big. h-haaah! o-ohh, FUCK ... !" Y/N cried, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his nails digging into the skin on the larger man's muscled back, his teeth sinking into the meaty flesh of his neck.
"Aww, baby, do you want me to stop, pull out?" Dick asked, his hips stilling, his cock resting inside the smaller male's fluttering channel, the tip of his cockhead brushing against the Omega's sweet spot, his hands gripping his ass.
"w-wha—? n-no! please, keep going," Y/N begged his cunt twitching, his nipples aching, his body desperate for release.
"Then beg. Beg for it. Tell me how badly you want my knot, how badly you want me to breed you," Dick purred, his lips peppering kisses and love bites along the Omega's throat, his teeth tugging and nibbling his earlobe.
"P-please, Dick, I-I can't ... please, I need you," Y/N pleaded, his arms tightening around the Alpha's sweaty body, his nails digging and scratching the larger man's broad shoulders.
"Need me to do what, baby?" Dick teased, his hips slowly grinding and rolling, his length massaging the Omega's walls, his lips and tongue leaving kisses and bites on his jaw.
"F-fuck, Dick. P-please, knot me. f-fuck ... god ... !" Y/N wailed, his nails dragging and scratching the large man's back, his body writhing and twitching, his legs wrapping tighter around his waist, his feet digging into his ass.
"Who's Omega are you?" Dick grunted, his hips bucking, his length pumping in and out of the smaller man's gushing and twitching entrance.
"y-you're! f-fuck ... a-ah ... yours. I'm your Omega," Y/N cried, his chest rising and falling as he clung to the Alpha's larger body, his hands clawing and grasping at his muscled back.
"What else?" Dick asked, his thrusts becoming faster and harder, his hips slamming and pounding, his balls slapping and hitting the Omega's ass.
"I-I belong t-to you, a-and no one e-else," Y/N whimpered, his head dropping to the Alpha's broad shoulder, his hands sliding down to grip his strong biceps, his chest heaving.
"Tell me, baby, will you ever deny or reject me again?" Dick demanded, his tone serious, grabbing the Omega's jaw again and forcing him to look into his eyes.
"Never," Y/N answered immediately, his body shaking.
"And, why not?"
"Because I'm your Omega, and only yours. No one else's," the smaller male replied, his heart hammering and his stomach twisting.
"Good, good. Now, tell me who I am," Dick growled, his hips picking up speed, his cock slamming into the Omega's twitching and spasming entrance.
"Y-you're my Alpha, the only Alpha I will ever take, the only Alpha that can knot and breed me," Y/N moaned, his head dropping back, his body jerking and trembling.
"And, who am I going to breed and claim? Who am I going to mark and put a bond on?"
"M-me, fuck, me, please," Y/N cried, his entire body on edge and ready to snap.
"Are you mine, baby?"
"Y-yes! yes, Dick, I'm yours,"
"And, are you going to be my perfect little Omega, let me do whatever I want to you, let me mark and fill you with my seed whenever and wherever I want, carry my babies, and give me a family."
"Yes, o-ohh FUCK yes!"
Dick's thrusts increased in speed, his rhythm faltering as his knot began to form.
"You're gonna take my last name, aren't you, baby? You're going to be mine, and only mine,"
"Y-yes. oh, god, y-yes," Y/N cried, his body trembling and his cunt dripping, his cocklette pulsing and aching, his chest leaking.
"Y/N Grayson, mmm, sounds so fucking good, baby," Dick groaned, his hips bucking and jerking, his knot getting larger.
"Oh, fuck, fuck, FUCK," Y/N screamed, his head thrown back and his body arching, his eyes shut tightly as his vision went white, his orgasm splashing and coating their fronts.
"Oh, fuck, baby. Yes, cum, milk me," Dick ordered, his hips pistoning, his cock ramming and rubbing the smaller male's walls, his balls slapping against his ass, "Fuck, you feel so good. Such a good boy. Take it, take my knot. Fuck."
"f-fuck ... god ...! O-OHH, FUCK!"
"That's right, baby. Let me fill you. Make you mine," Dick snarled, his hips slamming and bucking, his hands grabbing the Omega's thighs and lifting them up, his lips sucking and biting his nipples, "Mine, my mate, my Omega, MY Y/N."
"F-fuck, p-please ... !"
"Gonna claim and breed you, baby. Give you a big, fat, happy, round belly,"
"O-oh, Dick. D-DICK, PLEASE," Y/N moaned, his chest arching, his nipples and cunt throbbing, his stomach flipping, and his cocklette twitching.
"You'd love that, wouldn't you, baby?" His knot was right there...
"Y-yes, please," Y/N sobbed, his head bobbing, his hair flopping in his face.
"Yes, what, baby? Yes, what,"
"Make me yours, fuck me, breed me, mark me, claim me, make me your Omega,"
"Say my name, baby. Who do you belong to?"
"You. f-FUCK. You, Dick. I belong to you Dick."
"That's right. All mine, baby, only mine," Dick's hips started moving again, his knot popping in and out of the smaller male's soaked hole.
A few thrusts later and Dick was letting out a guttural roar as his knot finally popped and locked the two of them together, his seed painting the smaller male's walls.
The Alpha groaned, feeling his cock throb inside the walls of his Omega as he leaned down, capturing the exhausted male in a sweaty and tired kiss as he pumped him full of his seed. When they broke the kiss, both of them breathing heavily and covered in sweat and cum, Dick smiled, cupping the smaller male's cheek and looking into his eyes, his own shining with pride and adoration.
"You were so amazing, baby. You did so well, Y/N," He whispered, his thumb stroking the side of the smaller male's face, his hand running through his hair, "You'll see, soon. You're gonna love me, and we'll have a beautiful life together. I'll teach you to love me."
His face fell into the Omega's neck, leaving small kisses along the bruises, especially over where his scent gland, where his mating mark would go, "You'll see. Soon, you'll be mine," The Alpha muttered into his skin.
Y/N rubbed his hands up and down the sweaty back of the Alpha, his eyes opening in narrow slits as he looked past the up and down rising back of the man on top of him, a firm resolution in his mind.
'We'll see about that.'
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☀️ | Dick Grayson/Nightwing | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
🌓 | Part 3 | 🌓
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🌙 | Nightwing & Shadow | 🌙 (this image was genrated by Bing AI)
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best-of-basslines · 6 months
Text
Round 2 Part 1
Hysteria vs Too Shy
Disorder vs Message in a Bottle
Good Times vs Space Truckin'
Double Dare vs Dead Man's Party
My Girl vs I Want You Back
Aces High vs I'm Coming Out
Killing in the Name vs Money
Transmissions vs Deantown
Walk on the Wild Side vs Low Rider
Orion vs Midnight Lady
The Chain vs Girls and Boys
The Distance vs College Girls
I Will vs Good Vibrations
Plug in Baby vs Material Girl
Superstition vs Paranoid Android
Ain't it Fun vs Dirty Little Girl
Round 2 Part 2
I Will Survive vs Billie Jean
The Lovecats vs Have You Ever Seen the Rain?
Lovesong vs Snow (Hey Oh)
Bulls on Parade vs My Name is Mud vs Give It Away {Three options on this poll due to a previous tie}
Barbarism Begins at Home vs Thank You (Falettinme be Mice Elf Again)
Baba O'Riley vs Daughter
Under Pressure vs Ain't No Mountain High Enough
Seven Nation Army vs Walk the Dinosaur
Peace Sells vs You Can't Hurry Love
Another One Bites the Dust vs Thriller
Psycho Killer vs I Heard It Through the Grapevine
Feel Good Inc. vs The Joker
Don't Leave Me This Way vs The Rooster
It's My Life vs Blister in the Sun
Lady Madonna vs Let's Groove
Roundabout vs 15 Step
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steverogrers · 1 year
Text
Freefall | Bucky Barnes x Reader | Ch. 2
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Ch. 1
That night, Bucky had trouble sleeping.
Well, he always had trouble sleeping, but he wasn't sure if it was the new environment or the dreadful guilt in his belly that was keeping him from falling asleep.
The apartment had been engulfed in relative darkness though there was a bit of light peeking through the curtains from the moon, and there was a small night light plugged in next to the television. Yet, he couldn't help the fact his mind was working overtime to envision figures standing at every corner of the living room. He'd refused to check behind the couch, in fear that someone would be watching him from the kitchen. The wave of anxiety wasn't reminiscent of childish fear of monsters in the closet, it was more so the fear and remembrance of being watched and controlled constantly.
He knew there was nothing in (Y/N)'s home that he had to worry about.
The sofa beneath him was comfortable, even if his weight was flattening down the fluff of the material. This was better than his setup at home, though. And, the blanket she'd lent him was soft and smelled nice. Clean and fresh. Sure, it was fuzzy and pink, and he'd practically begged her to just let him borrow her boring duvet, but she'd insisted that the fuzzy pink one was the comfiest. And, she wasn't wrong. Really, everything was set up perfectly to make anyone drift off into a slumber. The shirt he'd borrowed was large enough to fit him perfectly, but he'd ripped it off once he was alone in the living room. The sweats were comfortable. But he just wished he could silence his thoughts. Once he could do that, then he could actually fall asleep.
But there was an overwhelming guilt. It was beginning to eat him up.
He felt selfish for coming here and inadvertently dragging her into his problems. He knew that her charitable action of sheltering him wouldn't go unnoticed if he stayed longer than necessary. Either she would remain unscathed, or Bucky would have to now protect himself and her. He remembered her being rather barbaric on the battlefield, but that was well over a year or two prior to him arriving at her window. But, really, his options of refuge were limited.
In New York City, he really only knew of her residing there, and a good friend of his, Yori. But, Yori was an old man who could sometimes barely get up from a chair, and there was no way Bucky could put him through any of this. So, he'd reluctantly decided to seek refuge with (Y/N), at least finding comfort in knowing that, should shit hit the fan, she would be able to fight.
She'd seemed kind enough to make him think she wasn't too worried, but he knew she was. He could see her heart racing up her throat when he'd mentioned Hydra, and he could hear her tossing and turning in her bedroom down the hall. Luckily, the bedroom had grown silent about an hour ago, and he was sure she was sound asleep now.
Sighing in frustration, Bucky sat up on the couch and let his feet touch the cold floors beneath him. He tossed the blanket aside and walked quietly towards the window of the living room, and opened the curtain the slightest bit. Just enough to get a peek at the sidewalk below. Nothing. There was no one there. He closed the curtain and stood still for several moments, running in circles with the paranoia in his head.
He knew better than to invade her privacy again, but if he was going to selfishly put her in danger like this, he might as well make sure she was safe at night.
Making his way quietly down the hallway, Bucky slowly wrapped a hand around the knob of her door and pushed it open. The door creaked quietly as he poked his head past the small opening, eyeing the dark bedroom. (Y/N) was tucked away beneath a mountain of extra blankets and a duvet, and he could swear he saw her choking out the teddy bear, clutching it tightly. But, once he confirmed she was breathing and the window that he'd crawled through earlier was shut tightly, he closed the door behind him and turned back to the living room.
She'd informed him that he was more than welcome to use her Netflix and Disney+, which he'd hardly ever used either before. So, after ensuring the volume was practically muted, he browsed through the latter channel and elected to watch a film. Childish, possibly, but he needed the colorful scenery and animation to keep him distracted from the darkness in his mind. He settled on Coco and soon found himself drifting off before the film came to an end.
The next morning was a rough one. You'd woken quite early from your slumber. You'd fallen asleep extremely late last night, having spent a couple of hours making sure your new guest was situated, and playing a little bit of catch-up with him too. He was nice, but you could tell he was exhausted. So, you'd both bid each other a quick goodnight. Though you'd been comfortable in your bed at night, your mind was racing at knowing that Bucky Barnes was sleeping on your couch, and at knowing that Hydra could attack your home any second if they knew of his presence. So it'd obviously taken hours until you fell asleep, which resulted in waking up on the grumpier side.
Throwing the duvet aside, you pulled on your slippers before exiting your bedroom. The bathroom was down the hall, and it would allow you a peek into the living room. You were surprised to see Bucky actually asleep. The tan flesh of his back faced you as he buried his face into the back of the sofa, and the pink blanket was barely hanging onto his frame as it threatened to fall off the couch.
With a small smile, you continued your sleepy walk to the bathroom to get yourself situated for the day. A cold shower woke you up instantly, and after brushing your teeth and pulling on a fresh pair of leggings and a clean hoodie, you were right out the door. 
You were sure to be quiet as you made your way back to your bedroom to tend to your unmade and messy bed. Only then did you hear slight movement in the living room, and then a quiet groan.
Exiting the bedroom, you made your way out into the living room. You were pleasantly surprised to see that Bucky was awake. He looked a little worse than you, though. Bucky had been leaning his elbows on his knees, and holding his head in his hands. His hair was messy, and a pair of dog tags dangled from his neck. 
"Morning," You spoke quietly, careful not to be too loud, "How'd you sleep?"
Bucky lifted his gaze at you, and it was a rather bleak one. Another grump in the morning, just like you. Then, the seriousness faded into something else, something akin to gratitude, "I managed. I had to watch a movie, hope that didn't wake you last night."
"Nah."
You shook your head at him, trekking across the rug to slump down onto the sofa next to him, but still giving him enough space. You could tell he had a bad habit of manspreading. Bucky reached for the shirt he'd thrown to the ground and worked to pull it over his head as you got comfortable.
"Don't worry, I've seen plenty of nipples in my time."
This made Bucky snort, and he looked at you.
"Not really the nipples I'm worried about, but good to know."
"What, you worried your terminator arm will freak me out? Not like I haven't been on the receiving end of it plenty of ti-"
Bucky shot you a sharp glare, one that cut you off immediately. Though your comment was light-hearted, you understood it was too early to make those jokes, "Sorry. Too soon, got it."
"'s fine," He softened once more, "Thanks for letting me stay, by the way. I can't thank you enough."
You shrugged at him, "Don't worry about it."
Then, a deeper frown crawled onto his face as he seemed to delve into a train of thoughts.
"Do you have a plan?"
Bucky stayed quiet, watching as you brought your knees up to your chest and got comfortable on the other end of the sofa, "I don't know how many of them there are. Yesterday there were a few that cornered me. And there were a few more watching my apartment when I tried going back. It can't be as expansive as it used to be, but...I don't want to underestimate them."
If he underestimated them, the chances of being captured were high. He'd rather overestimate their numbers and power, play it safe, and move into their blind spot.
"Does Sam know?"
Sam didn't know. Bucky didn't want to bother him. Sam had been happy in Louisiana for weeks now, and the last time he visited Sam for a cook-out, he'd seen how relaxed and at peace Sam was. And, there were his young nephews involved. He didn't want the children to be dragged into this, having to watch their uncle leave again.
"You don't wanna tell him," You read his expression perfectly, "Seems I'm your only hope right now, huh?"
Bucky nodded slowly, holding steady eye contact, and you could sense there was a hint of gloom, "Seems like it."
It was quiet again, and you observed him as he sat silently. He seemed always to space out a bit, but right now it was more so. You didn't blame him, he had a lot going on. The threat of losing his newly found life was nearby, and that was a lot to handle. You weren't all that close to him, but you read body language fairly well. You had to. And you could most definitely tell he was thinking at 500 miles per hour.
"Well...we'll wait this out a few days, see what happens," You offered confidently, knowing that the last thing he needed was you showing regret for allowing him to stay, "In the meantime, I'll start calling in some favors, set up some safehouses around the continent."
"You can do that?"
"Um, I can do anything. I've got people around the world."
At this, Bucky gave you an empty stare, a slightly playful one. You were bluffing.
"Fine, I have like 2 people."
Bucky nodded and couldn't help the childish smile that formed on his face.
This was most definitely going to be an experience, but at least you were humorous.
He'd not remembered much of his time spent by your side a few years ago, those memories were often a bit blurry, but he'd definitely remembered that you'd managed to get a snort or chuckle out of him when he'd first joined to aide the Avengers. He remembered you being patient with him and never making him feel bad for being a bit stand-offish, and when he didn't reply much, you would just talk to yourself. 
But when you weren't interacting with him, he'd observed how you interacted with everyone else on the team. He found it interesting how you seemed to fill in the cracks seamlessly, and your personality meshed perfectly with everyone. You'd even been able to crack jokes with a raccoon...a talking raccoon a few years back. That was a weird one for Bucky. Nevertheless, everyone seemed to trust you with their lives, even Steve.
So, if he trusted you...then Bucky would too.
He surmised that was why you were allowing him to sleep on your couch, too.
If Steve trusted him, you were going to trust him too.
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sorrelpaws · 1 year
Note
Sorrel imma listen to each song and the playlist and give my take! I wanna see how close or off or just any feedback tbh! For funzies! LMAO The first song is JUST THE VIIIBE FOR THE SHOW OVERALL <33
YOU ACTUALLY WENT THROUGH EVERYTHING honestly im so giddy over this. I'LL PUT MORE SPECIFIC THOUGHTS under the readmore, BUT U WERE PRETTY SPOT ON DUDE!!!
arrival - totally for the vibe. Just sounds like them to me daydream in blue - originally this was more so about rick/diane and how rick (badly)copes with her loss. BUT HONESTLY your interpretations centering morty's disillusionment ARE ALSO REALLY NEAT and i cant believe i didnt think of that sooner hehe i think it might be hell - YUP!!! mostly rick song but also has some lines that work for morty them changes - ALSO WORKS FOR BOTH OF THEM!! but personally i think of it more as a rick song snake eyes - I'LL ADMIT THAT THIS is half here for the vibe, BUT ALSO yeah definitely morty at a breaking point toy plane - YESSS EXACTLY!!!! i've been plugging this as a morty song basically since i found it. Very much about the dynamic between him and rick. TO BE HONEST i've never even thought about the "though this house is unchanged" LINES BUT YOU'RE SO RIGHT. RICK POTION #9. found god in a tomato - YUPPP very much their vibe. also makes me think very much about rick and just The way he is. his whole "i'm better than everyone" shtick just - YESSS EXACTLY THIS IS LITERALLY JUST rick being an asshole 180db_[130] - YUP just here for the vibe B) everything hurts - YEAH YEAH YEAH just completely rick's angsty sad miserable life no need for a leader - actually this for me is very much an evil morty song. specifically s3e7's whole plot starstruck - YUP MORTY SONG!!! for all his hurt feelings and protests, morty still obviously looks up to rick A Lot, so while he may be mad about something, he'll still go along with whatever rick wants fifteen minutes - THEM BOTH YEAH. here for the vibe cadence - this one is just kind of Rick and Morty to me. i dont even know how to explain it, just has their vibe. BUT I LIKE your interpretation a lot!! about how morty is aware of rick's self loathing and trying to kind of help him in his own way i'm your dog - YEAH. this is the most morty song ever to me. he really wants to act like he doesnt need rick, but he's also disgustingly codependent so the moment rick needs him, he comes running back. in the yard - YES!!! huge morty song. kind of has rick potion #9 vibes again, BUT I REALLY like the idea that there's some pressure to never mess up around rick, and feeling like his family prefers each other over him who is she ? - YEAH kind of here for the vibes, but also a bit for rick and diane! i don't know, i just feel like after searching for her killer for a couple of decades she might morph into less of a person and more of just an idea running on a treadmill - HEHE YESSSS morty doing everything for ricks approval to the point he sacrifices his own comfrot barbarism begins at home - YES about rick and morty's weird abusive relationship. morty not being "good enough", rick being a terrible role model/adult presence and not knowing how to be Nice call this # now - JUST FOR THE VIBES!!!! money - THIS ONE to me is about rick wanting to be better for morty, but having a really hard time stepping out of his nihilistic-asshole comfort zone. he knows he sucks, he acknowledges it, and he really wants to be better kiss me, son of god - very much a rick song hehe. specifically im imagining him in the era where he's contributing to the citadel's creation, but there's a line here that also make me think a bit about his relationship with prime (i destroyed the bond of friendship and respect between the only people left who'd even look me in the eye) birdhouse in your soul - just Rick and Morty and their relationship dungen - another Just for The Vibe song, BUT YEAH works well as a "throwback to the "good" ol' days" interpretation too drunk to come - YEPPPP RICK SONG ALL THE WAY BABY nugget killer - i'll be honest i also have no idea what this song says or means But it just Feels like rick and morty to me. i can feel it in my bones glue - YUHHHH MORTY ABOUT RICK YEOP YEP YEP YEOP oulala - YEP rick and his whole attachment and substance abuse issues two weeks - YEAH. their whole relationship
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rjzimmerman · 4 months
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Excerpt from this essay from David Sassoon, founder, editor and publisher of Inside Climate News:
Two visits to this wildlife sanctuary.  One week apart. I came to report the arrival of spring, an under-covered story. In the hope, too, that the new season might extinguish the fire in my brain, ablaze in the Anthropocene: The accelerating heat with its cascading catastrophes; the barbaric wars with their crimes against humanity; scorching hatreds shared instantly everywhere. Our raging modern inferno. 
And yet, we are in the midpoint of a great annual renewal, marked by the seasonal migration of creatures beyond number flying their way north. Might the incessant flapping of billions of pairs of wings cool down the hemisphere? Surely birdsong is balm for our blisters and burns? I went looking for remedy with little idea of what I was soon to witness.
It turned out not to be the birds. You can hear them, but they’re hard to see. Sure, I had an adequate pair of binoculars with me, and a bird ID app on my phone. Hopeless tools for an earthbound biped like me. My naked ears were far more useful. They could hear a woodpecker knocking into a distant tree. Mourning doves cooing in a branch above. An unseen swallow buzzing past my scalp. Blackbirds shrieking among the tall phragmites. Though it was daytime, an owl hooted, and a bullfrog seemed to answer. A paddling mallard provoked the obnoxious honking of a pair of rowdy geese. Only two of them, so damn loud. My notes also say: Fiddleheads. Bees. Chipmunks. Flash of orange. (In retrospect, likely an oriole.) 
I was grasping one thing at a time, cataloging the natural order—an outsider to it. What if I tried to listen to everything at once? It took repeated effort to gain fleeting entry into a parallel  world that wasn’t mine. A fluid orchestra of countless musicians perfectly riffing. The forest multi-tonal. Deciduous jazz. Not a single bad seat in the house. The debut of an up-tempo composition I’ll call How many dialects of warbler can the robin understand? Never to be played again.
What became apparent is that I don’t speak nature. The other sapiens I encountered didn’t seem to, either. A wholesome church group of well-dressed young adults. A guy in a baseball cap effusive about sighting a beaver. A teenager in pants striped red and white sporting a nose ring. All of us of such varied plumage yet belonging to a single species. 
To us it was Saturday morning. How laughable. I had arrived at nine—much too late to get the worm—and now, after a few hours as I began walking out, I turned my gaze upwards. I saw the architecture of tree branches; bud break of leaves; the sky. Oh! The bird realm! The aerial kingdom! I would need to return to see it in a new light.
My neighbor remembers when she was a young girl, the birds were so loud in the early morning that to sleep she’d have to plug her ears. We didn’t realize how much things were changing around us over the last half century. The human population was doubling from four to eight billion. On the other hand, the population of breeding birds was declining by three billion, a 30 percent drop—in North America alone. 
The last time birds had it so bad might have been when an asteroid six or nine miles wide slammed into the Earth, eons before hominids first walked upright. With two hundred million years of evolutionary history in their bones, birds are confronting a relatively instantaneous collective demise at our hands. 
We’ve been hearing these dire warnings for many years, yet the environmental carnage continues unabated. It’s part of what science calls biodiversity loss, the path we’ve trod in the Anthropocene, with its thousandfold increase in extinctions. We have no shame. 
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scotianostra · 1 year
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On June 28th 1685,  Richard Rumbold was executed in Edinburgh.
To begin with I would like to go back about 380 years to the execution of Sir William Wallace, many point to it as a barbaric act, but being hung, drawn and quartered was the normal sentence for being found guilty of treason back then, although Wallace was never an English subject, so never a traitor. The same could be said about Rumbold, who was an English subject.
Rumbold was accused in 1683 of being the main instigator of a plot to kill King Charles II and his brother James, Duke of York, in an attempt to assassinate the royal couple as they passed by Rye House, on their return from Newmarket Races, it became known as The Rye House Plot.
Historians still debate each other on the actual plot but most agree Rumbold was a minor character in a very widespread plot, involving many leading Republican members of the British aristocracy. In fact, some historians  believe the plot was fabricated by King Charles in order to execute his opponents in the Whig party, which he did, and although some were no doubt guilty of conspiring, several innocent men were put to death. This was mainly part of English history, hence few of us here will know a great deal about it, so I will get to the Scottish part.
When the conspiracy was discovered Rumbold fled initially to Holland, home of many exiled opponents of the Stuarts. In 1685, after the death of Charles a further plot was hatched among the émigrés to dislodge King James VII/II, his Catholic successor, from the throne. This was to take the form of a two-pronged attack on the British Isles: the first on Scotland under the leadership of Archibald Campbell, 9th Earl of Argyll (who shall crop up again in a post in couple of days) and the second on the west of England under The Duke of Monmouth.
Rumbold accompanied Argyll to Scotland, and was made a colonel in the small army. But the whole enterprise, badly mismanaged, fell apart. Argyll and Rumbold were both captured. Rumbold was executed in either the June 26th or 28th, there are differing accounts.
The following is an account of his execution…..
In a cart, bareheaded, and heavily manacled,he was conveyed from the Water Gate to the Castle, escorted by Graham’s City Guard, with drums beating, and on the 28th of June he was hanged, drawn, and quartered, at the Cross, where his heart was torn from his breast, an exhibited, dripping and reeking, by the executioner, on the point of a plug-bayonet, while he exclaimed, “Behold the heart of Richard Rumbold, a bloody English traitor and murderer!”
Afterwards his head,was placed on the West Port, then  sent to London on the 4th of August, while his quarters were gibbeted in the four principal cities in Scotland.
You can find the condemned mans last speech on the link below, although he didn’t finish it, complaining that the drum beats (were) “so disingenuous as to interrupt a dying man.”https://www.bartleby.com/268/3/15.html
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Take A Chance On Me - Chapter Eight (Eddie Munson x Reader Series)
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Series Summary: Corroded Coffin is lacking only one thing that could help them win the upcoming Battle of the Bands; original songs. So when a new band comes to town with a lead singer that looks all too familiar and a repertoire of original songs up their sleeves, Dustin concocts a plan that will get you to spill all of your songwriting secrets to Eddie. It’s just a few dates, right?
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Masterlist
Word Count: 5.8K
Pairings: Eddie Munson x Reader, Eddie Munson x fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, 10 Things I Hate About You AU
A/N: Alright so I know that you all said that you like the longer word counts but I did have to cut this chapter in half cause it was getting ridiculously long. Like I'm talking 13K long. Also I was getting a bit behind with my writing and by splitting it I'll be able to upkeep my once a week schedule of posting. This also means that my plan of limiting myself to 10 chapters has gone out the window. Now I'm thinking it'll be about 12-13 (hopefully). My writing just really has a mind of its own sometimes. Anyway, no spoilers for the chapter ahead but I hope you enjoy it. I've nearly finished writing this series and I'm kind of getting super sad about it but all of your nice comments and likes make it all worth it. As always, love you all!
Corroded Coffin is the name on everyone’s lips this week after they blew the judges away at Fort Wayne’s Battle of the Bands. Their original song ‘Na Na Na’ saw an electrifying combination of a wild tempo, masterful guitar playing and barbaric lyrics that had the crowd going wild. After having played a cover of Metallica’s ‘Master of Puppets’ in the competition’s first round, their original song took the judges by surprise, solidifying their placement in the semi-finals. 
Eddie Munson was many things and easily excitable was one of them.
And yet today, as he drove down the familiar streets heading towards the Hideout, he was practically bouncing in his seat, the music from the radio playing at an almost ungodly volume level as he roughly banged his hands upon the steering wheel to the beat. The smile that was perched across his lips—so full and wide that it was starting to hurt his jaw—had been fixated in place since the morning, Eddie seemingly incapable of ridding himself of it. The further he drove, the more excited he became until his heart was practically beating out of his chest as he pulled into the parking lot of the Hideout, his stomach alight with butterflies.
He was giddy. There was simply no other word for it.
Because although he had visited the Hideout once a week for as long as he could remember, and although he had already been before specifically to see you play, this time it was different. This time it was so very different for one simple reason; you had invited him.
And whilst that thought in itself was enough to make him practically dance across the parking lot, it was the message that lingered behind it that had Eddie so happy. Inviting him meant that you wanted to see him again. Inviting him meant that the date had gone well enough that you might—if he was lucky—consider the possibility of a second one. Inviting him meant that, even after that awkward silence had lingered between you when he had pulled away from the kiss, even though everything had felt like it was normal when you had eventually put on Top Gun and Eddie had been unsuccessful in changing your opinion on the film, maybe everything had been fine after all.
So when Eddie eventually entered the queue of people that were all waiting in line just to see you, he did so willingly. He waited his turn and when he was eventually let inside, he carefully shuffled through the throngs of people—still slightly shocked at the size of the crowd—and made his way towards the front; towards you. Upon his entrance he saw only a sliver of your figure as you plugged your guitar into the amplifier beside you before his view was encumbered by someone stepping in front of him. But now, as he slowly found his way through, the image of you standing up upon the stage still managed to take his breath away; it still managed to make his soul leave his body.
And then your eyes were catching his, your lips upturning instantly into that smile that Eddie had grown to adore. It was wide and it was genuine and it was directed right at him; it was all his, and—he so hoped—it was because of him. He found himself smiling back just as enthusiastically as his hands connected with the stage and he leaned forwards, his smile only widening as you placed your guitar down, traversed the few steps that remained between the two of you and folded yourself downwards until you were practically eye to eye. As you crouched, your hands came around to hug your knees, and for just a moment Eddie couldn’t quite help himself from marvelling at the cuteness of the action. For now your face was inches from his, your smiles still mirroring each other’s.
“Hello there,” Eddie whispered into the space between you, and although the ruckus of the crowd was well and truly pertinent, for just a moment it was as if only the two of you existed within the room.
“You came,” you said.
“Of course I came.”
You shrugged, the curve of your lips changing ever so slightly to become something more toying.
“I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d get sick of seeing bands play that are better than yours.”
Eddie smiled coyly. He wanted to reach forwards and wrap his arms around you. He wanted to pull you into him. He wanted to tickle you until that devilish smile was wiped from your face and you were begging for him to stop. But he didn’t. Partly because you were still suspended slightly above him upon the stage and partly because he was surrounded by a very dense and a very tightly compact crowd of people. So instead he could do nothing other than lean slightly more forward until your lips were practically touching.
“Don’t get too cocky now, sweetheart. We’ve both made it into the semi-finals.”
The announcements had been made a few days prior, and Eddie—who had been practically glued to the porch step of his trailer with his eyes fixated upon the small hill where the postman would crest—had thought of little else since Corroded Coffin’s name had been on that list. And then, right next to it, had been your band’s name, and Eddie’s smile had somehow gotten wider.
But then there had been the date and the kiss and the screening of Top Gun where you had thrown popcorn at each other and Eddie had still found kernels in his hair days later, and everything else had just seemed to pale in comparison.
“Well everyone’s gotta do some charity work now and then.”
“You wound me,” Eddie said, pounding his fist into his heart and pretending to be hurt just to get that little laugh to spill from your lips. It did, and Eddie smiled.
“Y/N,” Robin called from behind you. You turned to look at her, flashed her a smile, and then turned quickly back to Eddie.
“Gotta go,” you said.
But before you pulled away, before Eddie had time to do anything other than continue to stare up at you, you were suddenly leaning down even further towards him, your hair falling slightly in front of your face. The kiss that you placed on his cheek was fleeting, barely there at all, and yet the touch and the warmth and the presence of your lips against his skin caught him wholeheartedly by surprise so that when you pulled away, Eddie found himself quite incapable of moving. And then you were leaving, that familiar scent of your perfume lingering in your shadow so that Eddie lingered along with it for just a little while longer.
It was only after the last fragments of you had left that Eddie finally realised someone was calling his name. He turned and found Gareth’s familiar face grinning up at him.
“Hey, man!” Gareth exclaimed as Jeff came into focus beside him. Eddie tried to pretend like he had remembered he invited them along, but then they were dragging him into the crowd and then a drink was in his hand and then there was the sound of your electric guitar as it filled the room, and Eddie got lost in it.
There was some Madonna and some Smiths and of course some Abba covers. Eddie enjoyed them all more than he would ever willingly admit. He watched as your fingers strummed across the strings of your guitar and as your hips swayed slightly to the music and as your lips brushed up against the microphone with each lyric. Eddie’s attention only ever waivered from you when Gareth or Jeff leaned over to say something to him or when he had been caught off guard at the sight of Dustin Henderson standing before him, apparently in the accompaniment of Steve Harrington who was also supposedly somewhere in the crowd.   
But through it all, Eddie found himself always coming back to you, the sight of you upon that stage still managing to take his breath away. So when everything started to turn to shit it seemed to happen in the blink of an eye.
Eddie had been watching you as he had been doing for most of the set as you played the last song of the night. It was a cover by some band he had heard on the radio, not an original like you usually did, and whilst this information disheartened him somewhat, he enjoyed the performance nonetheless. Gareth and Jeff were beside him, talking about something Eddie was too distracted to listen to, and maybe if you had not been so very captivating upon that stage he might have realised how conspiratorial their talking was, bending down to whisper in each other’s ears as they kept glancing over to the back of the staged area. Dustin had returned at one point, he was quite sure, but he left just as quickly, that signature smirk of his spread across his cheeks that in hindsight should have worried Eddie more than it did.
But then the song was finishing as the last few notes from your guitar reverberated around the room, the crowd’s cheers overpowering it. And you were smiling back at all those people just like you always did and Eddie could do nothing but bask in its glow. He barely noticed when the stage lights dimmed or when the crowd began to trickle out.   
It was Gareth who brought him out of his reverie, a wide grin plastered across his features as he hastily made his way towards Eddie.
“We did it, man,” Gareth said, and by the way he was looking around and lowering his voice, Eddie couldn’t quite help the furrow of his brows.
“Did what?”
And then it was Gareth’s turn to furrow his brows, rolling his eyes slightly as he quite unsubtly moved the flannel of his shirt to the side to show Eddie the item tucked into the belt of his jeans. It all seemed to happen so fast after that so that later, when Eddie replayed the series of events over and over in his mind, he still wasn’t quite sure that he had remembered it right.
There had been your notebook hidden under Gareth’s shirt. There had been the choked cough that had struggled its way out of Eddie’s throat in surprise, his eyes going wide as he saw the item. There had been Eddie’s quick fingers as they snatched the notebook from Gareth, and then Gareth’s subsequent confused expression.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Eddie hissed, looking up quickly to where you were talking with Meg on the stage.
“We were just talking about this! You said you were struggling with that chorus for the new song at band practice last week so Jeff thought we could look around in that chick’s book for some ideas.”
Although Gareth wasn’t speaking all that loudly and although there was still a low hum of conversation that filled the room as people continued to leave, Eddie so wished that Gareth would just shut up. He was sweating now, his heart beating so violently fast. There were too many people around him, too many people that he knew and that you knew. Too many people that would recognise the book that Eddie was currently holding to his chest.
The notebook.
In all honesty he had forgotten he was holding it, but now, as he gripped it between his sweating palms it was as if it was a flare shot high into the sky that would lead you back to all of his deceptions. Eddie looked up towards you again, his eyes going wide when your gaze met his. You offered him a kind smile and Eddie tried to return it. But the slight furrow in your brow showed that you weren’t convinced. You excused yourself from your conversation and traversed the last few steps to the lid of the stage where you gently jumped down from it.
Eddie thought it quite likely that he might pass out.
He shoved the notebook back at Gareth.
“Put it back where you found it,” he hastily said, trying to keep his eyes on your positioning but losing you in the crowd that was still leaving.
“What the hell, man? I was just trying to help.”
“By what? Stealing her lyrics?” Eddie was angry now, and he regretted the harsh tone that he uttered his words in if only because it seemed to aggravate the situation more.
Eddie looked up again, and there you were, mere steps away from him.
He could tell it was going to happen before it did.
Because Gareth wasn’t facing towards the stage. Gareth hadn’t seen your slow approach through the crowd. Gareth did what he was so very good at doing, what Eddie loved so much about him; Gareth tried to help. But he was angry now too. Angry at Eddie’s reaction. Angry that Eddie clearly hadn’t been listening when they had discussed this very plan only moments before. And so Gareth did what Eddie had always known him to do; he opened his big mouth.
“Isn’t that what you’re doing? I was just trying to help you finish the songs for the competition so you didn’t have to date that chick anymore.”
Eddie stood witness to it all.
He stood witness as you halted in your tracks. As that beautiful, lovely smile of yours fell from your face in an instant. He stood witness as your posture stiffened, as your mind began whirring, as the pieces of the puzzle all began to fall into place.
And then, as he continued to look in your eyes, he saw more.
He saw the confusion and the apprehension and the denial of it all. There was the contemplation, the replaying of what you had just heard and the subsequent analysis of it. Then, finally, there was the disbelief, the anger, the acceptance. And behind it all, the sadness. It flooded your features, welled behind your eyes, consumed your entire being until it was all that Eddie could see standing before him. The sight broke his heart.
“Y/N-” he tried to say, but then you were stepping forwards, the anger now battling with the sadness so that the glare that you directed up at him betrayed tears behind your eyes. He hadn’t known what he had been expecting from the situation; maybe for you to run, maybe for him to have to chase you. But you stood unrelenting before him, and Eddie begun to realise that this version of events was worse, so much worse. Because instead of the sight of your tears, he was instead met with a glare of hatred so very powerful and so clearly directed right at him that for just a moment it was Eddie that felt like crying.
“Tell me it’s not true,” you whispered and yet still there was a slight crack in your voice.
Eddie thought about it. He considered lying, he considered the option of simply denying it all, of playing it off as just some joke. And maybe if he could do so convincingly enough, you would believe him. You would believe him and things would go back to how they used to be; to the smiles and the laughter and that one wonderful kiss the two of you had shared.
But as he looked down upon you and saw the slight sheen across your eyes, he knew he could not do it. You deserved the truth. You deserved something better than this; better than him. So Eddie continued to stand there and he continued to say nothing. Because he could not quite bring himself to admit it all to you, to see that sheen in your eyes turn to tears, to see the hatred behind your eyes solidify.
In the end his silence only acted as his confession. In the end it was all you needed to know the truth of it all.
A singe tear escaped from your eye and trickled down your cheek. Eddie watched it, his heart only breaking further. But then your hand was coming up, the movement of it a blur as it rushed towards his face, the palm of your hand connecting with the skin of his cheek. And it hurt. It hurt both in the sense that his cheek was now stinging and in the sense of what it meant. The slap was an ending; it was a conclusion, a consequence, a culmination of everything that Eddie had done. And as much as it hurt, he deserved it all, he thought as his gaze remained unwavering upon you.
There were tears now as they began to run freely down your cheeks. You did not hide them as you continued to glare up at Eddie and the sight of them had Eddie’s voice returning to him all at once. For although he had undoubtedly ruined everything, you deserved an explanation or an apology or anything at all that he could give you.
“Y/N, I-”
“I trusted you.”
Eddie expected the words to be venomous, but instead they were defeated, falling from your lips in barely a whisper. You were right, and that was what hurt the most. You had placed your trust in him and he had betrayed that trust. You had told him about your past, confided in him about the pain that you had hidden away. And he had turned around and gone and done the very same thing to you. He was just as bad as that guy from the basketball team. He was just as bad as Tommy H, and the thought made him repulsed by himself.
“Y/N, please, I can explain-”
But what was there to explain? You knew the truth, maybe not the whole of it, not the part where Eddie had grown to adore you, to cherish you, to think of nothing but the curve of your jaw and the softness of your lips whenever he was alone. You knew not of the way that you took his breath away every time he saw you or of the way his heart practically jumped out of his chest whenever your skin so happened to even brush against his.
And although Eddie knew that it might do nothing, although he was quite well aware that there was a very real possibility that you would only ever look upon him now with that same hatred in your eyes, your lovely smile merely a memory in his mind, he decided he would still try. But then before he could continue, before he could find the resolve to confess to you the very depths of what was in his heart, you were leaving. You were running now, running away from him as your hand came up to capture a sob that left your lips.
Eddie tried to follow. He thought maybe of grabbing your wrist or wrapping his arms around you as he had done in the diner and not letting go until you had heard everything he had to say. But his hands stayed by his side as you escaped and he made no move to follow, partly because he would always be at the whim of what you wanted, even if what you wanted was to get away from him, and partly because the figure of Steve Harrington was stepping in front of him now, blocking the last fleeting view that Eddie had of you before you pushed the back door of the Hideout open and left.
Eddie looked up and quickly came to realise that the air in the room was just as tense as he felt. The crowd had long since gone, the only figures remaining those he knew. There was the rest of your band still standing upon the stage, some trying to rush after you and some glaring venomously at him. There was Gareth and Jeff standing beside him, a bit further away now, having had at least enough common sense to look partly guilty as their gazes remained fixed to the floor. There was Steve Harrington standing before him and Dustin Henderson standing by his side, a look of concern crossing the boy’s features as he continued to look between Steve and Eddie.
“What did I tell you, Munson?” Steve said, his voice seething with anger.   
Eddie thought to himself that if Steve Harrington were to hit him he would not fight it. Because maybe the pain of getting punched might, for just a moment, quell the pain in his heart. But Steve did not swing, and somehow, that was worse.
Eddie collapsed into the chair that sat beside him, his hands coming up to cradle his face as he tried to hide the tears that threatened to spill. And although he could tell that everyone in the room was looking at him, Eddie couldn’t quite bring himself to care, too busy reimagining that look of hatred that had crossed your features as you had stared only at him.
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One expects many things from having their heart broken.
There is of course the expectation that one will secrete copious amounts of tears. There is the expectation that one will consume all manner of unhealthy food, for maybe the deliciousness of junk might just distract the mind from the sadness that consumes it. There is the expectation that one will remain immobile for long periods of time, most commonly in a laid-back position and most commonly done so upon a bed or a couch that is hopefully also in close proximity to a television.
Of course, all these expectations came to fruition in the days following that fateful night at the Hideout. There was the inhalation of several pints of ice-cream, paired with the frequent and continuous viewings of whatever films Steve or Robin happened to bring over. There were the tears which fell so consistently and yet so sporadically so that, along with the aches of heartbreak, you were also plagued by the throbbing of a headache for most of your waking moments.
Yet there was one expectation that did not materialise, and it was somehow the lack of it that hurt all the more. For when one is betrayed in such a manner as you had been, you would expect there to be some semblance of an apology, or at least an attempt at one. And yet as you had lain upon the couch or your bed or—on a few occasions—the floor, only ever moving to fulfill a basic need to eat or relieve yourself, there had been nothing. Not a single phone call or a knock on the door that had not opened to find Steve or Robin on the other side.
You did not want to see him. In truth, you would not know what to do if you opened the door and it was Eddie standing upon its threshold. The sight of him would pain you, you were quite sure. For whilst you had so missed the sight of his unruly hair and the smell of his cheap cologne and the sound of his infectious laughter, when you thought of him now you thought only of those words that you had heard leave Gareth’s lips at the Hideout, and suddenly you couldn’t quite distinguish what had been real and what had been an act. It had all felt so genuine with Eddie whenever you had been within his presence; it had all felt so easy with him so that now even the fondest of memories that you tried so desperately to cling onto still brought tears to your eyes.
When you eventually did leave the confines of your house on the rarest of occasions—usually forcefully pulled out of it by Robin or having dragged yourself begrudgingly out of bed to head to work—it was so painfully easy to avoid Eddie Munson. In the end, it made you wonder how you had ever met him in the first place, and the thought only brought with it a fresh bout of tears.
So when you pulled up in the carpark of the competition’s venue, you did so with shaking hands, ragged breathing and a heart that was apparently trying its hardest to break itself out of the confines of your chest. Because there, only a few feet away from you, was the familiar sight of Eddie’s van, and the knowledge that you would undoubtedly have to see him again hit you all at once. But upon closer inspection, it became apparent that the van was empty.
The feeling of something touching your shoulder had you jumping in your seat, pulled from your reverie as you whipped your head around to find Robin looking at you. And whilst you had expected to find a look of sympathy or empathy or pity behind her eyes, instead you found only comfort. She was smiling at you, something devilish in the upturning of her lips so that you felt the corner of your own mouth begin to quirk upwards.
“Alright, listen up,” Robin spoke, grasping the attention of all of the girls within the car as Meg and Vicki leaned forwards from their places in the backseat.
“When we leave this car,” Robin continued, her voice just as firm. “I don’t want to hear a single thing about Eddie fucking Munson unless it involves the words ‘annihilate’ or ‘destroy’. Because that’s what we’re about to do to their pathetic little band.”
The curving of your lips had well and truly become a smile now as you looked upon the girl beside you, so invigorated and passionate as she spoke.
“We’re going to go in that damn building and we’re going play the best we’ve ever played and we’re going to get into the finals whilst Eddie Munson weeps from the audience because he’s realised he’s never going to be as good as us. And then we’re going to go home and get some damn milkshakes because we deserve them.”
A laugh escaped your lips now and the sound of it surprised you slightly as you came to realise that it was the first time you had laughed in well over a week.
“Have you thought about getting into motivational speaking, Robin? You’re surprisingly good at it,” you said with a smile, reaching over the centre console to grasp Robin’s hand within your own and squeeze it in thanks.
And then all of you were laughing as you finally exited the car, grabbing your instruments from the confines of the boot. As you began the walk over to the venue, you were surprised when Meg looped her arm within your own, not used to such displays of intimacy from the girl. But you were grateful for the touch, the feeling of her solid form beside you grounding you somewhat.
She leaned in close to you and whispered, “If he tries anything I will literally kick his ass.”
You couldn’t quite help the bark of laughter that escaped your throat.
“Thanks, Meg, but I think I’d rather we didn’t get disqualified for assaulting another contestant.”
“Well if you change your mind, just say the word.”
The hallway backstage was eerily quiet when the four of you entered, the usual ruckus made by the other bands no longer resounding throughout the space. With the semi-finals seeing only three bands still competing, this should not have come as such a shock, and yet the silence still managed to unsettle you as you made your way towards the green room.
Your walking was slow, hesitant even as Meg’s arm still remained wrapped within your own, your grip upon her tightening the further you went. For you knew that as soon as you entered the green room he would be there, and you could feel your hands beginning to shake at the thought. Your breath hitched in your throat as you crossed the threshold into the room, and although you knew you should have kept your gaze upon the floor, you couldn’t quite help yourself from instantly scanning the room.
There he was, draping himself lazily over a chair in the corner as he strummed absentmindedly at his guitar in his lap. A cigarette was perched between his lips, the end unlit and yet the stem drooping slightly as if he had been chewing upon it. He looked up as you entered, and as he did so the finger that had been about to strum the strings of his guitar fell slightly, causing a very off-key note to resound throughout the room. A deep blush arose upon Eddie’s cheeks as all eyes in the room turned towards him, but his gaze was still locked with yours. You felt like turning away, the intensity of his stare somehow both oddly comforting and slightly disconcerting, but you refused to give him the satisfaction by doing so. So you held his gaze until it was him that looked away, your head held high and your back straight even though all you felt like doing was turning right back around and leaving.
If there was a hint of sadness behind Eddie’s eyes, you chose not to acknowledge it. Instead, you made your way to the opposite corner and unslung your guitar case from around your shoulders. You could feel Eddie’s gaze return to you as you sat down and begun to tune your guitar, trying to pay him no mind and yet struggling to do so for you could feel the heat and the emotion and the unrelenting ferocity behind his stare so very clearly. It made you want to shiver, but you refrained from doing so.  
And then, as if the world had decided that you had not suffered enough, the third band still competing made their way into the room, the familiar sight of a cocky and condescending smirk entering with them. At the sight of it, you felt like screaming, but resigned yourself to a simple eyeroll and an annoyed grumble.
“Well if it isn’t my favourite groupies,” the boy called.
You couldn’t quite be bothered with a response and so chose not to provide one. Instead you simply continued tuning your guitar, your eyes downcast towards the tuning pegs. But the boy, whether he noticed your unwillingness to converse and decided to ignore or was simply too consumed in his own world to care about your silence, continued.
He did so by whistling.
“There’s more tension in here than a sinner in church. I’m glad to see you’re preparing yourself for losing, it’ll make it easier when it happens.”
The boy made his way towards you, throwing himself quite unceremoniously down into the seat beside you. You felt like responding now, although you refrained from releasing the string of expletives that lingered on the tip of your tongue.
“Or is it something else?” the boy continued, flicking his gaze between you and Eddie. “A lover’s quarrel? Trouble in paradise?”
Your fingers had stilled over the strings of your guitar, your hand gripping the stem so tightly that your knuckles turned white. You were trying not to engage, biting the inside of your cheek so hard that you tasted blood, and yet the boy would not relent. He leaned closer now, his breath tickling your neck so that you felt like recoiling away from him.
“Is he not treating you right? You know I could make you scream if you let me.”
You stood up at the same time that Eddie did, and for just a moment your gaze flickered over to him. He was seething with anger, his breathing short and ragged as his eyes remained fixated on the boy still sitting next to you. By his side, his hands were clenched into fists, the skin on his knuckles pure white. You had never seen Eddie so angry before—had, in all honesty, never imagined him capable of reaching such a level of hostility—so that you were altogether quite unsure of what would happen if the situation continued as it was. So you tore your gaze away from Eddie and turned to face the boy once more.
“Do you have a mental deficiency?”
Whatever the boy had been expecting you to say, that was certainly not it.
“What?” he scoffed.
“Do you have some sort of intellectual deficiency that makes it harder for you to understand others?” you repeated.
The boy scoffed again, looking over to his bandmates who were snickering by the door.
“No,” he eventually said.
“Oh, so you do know the meaning of the word ‘no’ then. I thought maybe something was getting lost in translation since you keep seeming to not understand me when I politely try to tell you to fuck off.”
Mike, Jeff and Gareth joined in on the snickering now, clearly trying and failing to hide their laughter as the boy turned his venomous gaze towards them.
“I am not your fucking groupie. I am a contestant in this competition, the same as you. And I know—god forbid—it must be such a shocker for you to have to compete with the likes of a woman since you seem to have the mental capacity of a caveman. But at this point your sexism is just stupid. Are you just ignoring the fact that my band has scored higher than yours in every round so far?”
The boy adjusted himself in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. The roll of his eyes left his gaze casting down to the floor, and you smiled slightly in triumph.
“So if you could please try your absolute hardest to do what every other band in this competition has seemed capable of doing and mind your own fucking business, that would be great.”
Without another word, you leaned down, moved your chair slightly over before sitting back down, pretending to return to the tuning of your guitar. In reality, your hands were shaking slightly and your heart was pounding out of your chest, but your act of indifference seemed to have the desired effect as the boy grumbled something under his breath, stood up, and defeatedly crossed the room over to where his bandmates were now outwardly laughing at him.
Eddie’s gaze burned your skin as you tried your hardest to keep your eyes fixated upon your guitar. And yet, as if something was drawing you right to him, you could not seem to stop yourself as your gaze flickered upwards for just a second. Eddie was still standing although his posture was more relaxed now. There was the slightest upward curve to his lips, although what semblance of a smile he was sporting never seemed to reach his eyes. For as you looked at him and as he continued to stare unwavering at you, there was nothing but a distinct sadness—something almost guilty—that was staring back.
In the end you had to turn away abruptly, something you refused to acknowledge bubbling up in your throat. And as you finally resumed the tuning of your guitar, the heat of Eddie’s stare lingered.
---
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dabis-girl · 4 years
Text
Don’t Push me, I’m too close to the edge.
𝗧𝗮𝗴𝘀/𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: edging, overstimulation,poly relationship, bi-sexual characters, humiliation, BDSM, clit stimulatin, sex toys, DDLG-Ish, cumshot.
𝐀/𝐍: I just wanna thank y’all for the 400 followers 🥰 and this took a bit longer than expected but ya know that how depression works. But this is probably this longest this that I have ever written this app and who knows maybe this will be a regular thing for me
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.5𝐤 this shit long asf to me but it’s worth it I promise.
𝐁𝐭𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 2 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬
After wrapping up with Dabi you had to find some excuse to email your professor. Ultimately it came down to you your cat jumping on your computer. But, you really didn’t have much time to worry about that before he was pulling you into the shower. He took his time washing you up and planting tender kisses on your skin. You couldn’t help but cling to your man as your knees were still weak from your scene. Dabi had to ‘work’ but you really know that means he needed to ride around and hit licks. He always gave you the choice of coming along or staying at the house and more than likely you’d go. It was fun to ride around with a boyfriend that was the plug while anticipating the return of your dreamy college boy.
“ You coming with me today, or you stayin’ in?” He asked wrapping you up in a towel and placing you pert on the bathroom counter. Dabi took his time to put toothpaste on both your and his toothbrush and handed you yours.
“ I don’t know.” You said kicking your feet. Dabi rolled his eyes before spitting into the sink. But in your defense it was a tough decision riding with Dabi was always interesting,sometimes you wondered who were these people that he sold too? But you knew that Keigo plans for you. Your train of thought was derailed by your impatient boyfriend.
“ Are you gonna stay here and wait for Keigo, or do you want to come with me and see him when we come back?” He explained with a hint of annoyance in his voice.
“Do you want me to come with you?” You teased although you’d made your decision mimicking his actions of spitting in the sink.
“Don’t be a brat.” He warned. “ Matter of fact you’re staying here I don’t need your bratty ass in my passenger seat tempting me today. I like it when you’re a good little assistant. Keigo will take care of that.” He said. The two of you finished brushing your teeth and he rushed to get ready while you simply put on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.
Dabi got dressed in the usual white v-neck, black jacket, and jeans. He made sure to leave you money to get whatever you wanted to get and gave you and kiss on the forehead. You knew he’d be back sometime tonight so you didn’t worry too much because he always came back. In the meantime, there was perfect blonde with golden eyes that was due home any second and you couldn’t wait. It wasn’t too long before Keigo returned, it was Friday and he didn’t have any more classes.
Not long after your pizza arrived and you finally found something to watch you heard keys in the door. It was only a few minutes after Dabi pulled off, it was either him forgetting something or Keigo's test was a breeze. Much to your surprise it was Keigo he always took like the max amount of time on his test. He was delighted to see you perched on the sofa.
“ Keigo!” You chirped upon his arrival.
“Hello, my songbird.” He huffed the exhaustion seeped through normally chipper tone, before he threw himself on the sofa.
“How was your test?” You asked, twisting your blanket nervously.
“It was bullshit.” Keigo answers. “But at least it’s over now and there’s pizza.” He said, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.
It was quiet for a while as the only sound was that the dull roar of the tv. You weren’t even paying attention to the movie anymore because every twenty seconds you gazed over to your boyfriend sitting at the other end of the sofa, not paying you any mind. The longer he sat there scrolling through his phone the needier you grew. You had been waiting on this return all day just the be ignored. You could feel your bottom lip poking out as your eyebrows stiffened into a straight line.
Still, without paying you any mind Keigo picked up his backpack and started rummaging through it. Eventually, he pulled out a zip-lock baggie filled halfway with special flowers, following that came a pack of Honey backwoods and another pack of Russian cream’s. Those were for Dabi. You sat there and watched him roll up, the way that he could lick a wood to perfection always intrigued you. He sent you to fetch him a lighter and reluctantly obliged. One he sparked it and hit it a few times then he passed it to you. You didn’t smoke nearly as much before you met Dabi but it started getting out of hand when you moved in with him and Keigo, you were beginning to act like them smoking yourself stupid everyday.
He looked so good when he was smoking. The way he effortlessly inhaled the clouds of smoke. The two of you passed the wood until it was a stinger. Your eyelids felt like weights. Smoking always made you horny and you were already in anticipation waiting for Keigo’s return. You sat there feeling as if you were moving faster than the world around you. It was like you were hyper fixated on trying to figure out what he was thinking, was he doing it on purpose, or were you just that horny?
“Are you high Princess?” He asks with a laugh, breaking you out of thought. What kind of question was that? Of course, you were. All you could manage a nod and chuckle. “That’s good.” He began. “You know if I fail my test it’ll kinda be your fault.” He said with a laugh looking over to you.
“My fault?!” You scoffed dramatically.
“Yeah, your fault, the only thing in my head during the whole exam was you.” He leaned over to roughly knead your breast. ”And every time I tried to solve an equation all I could hear were your whorish moans in my ear.” He explained.
“Oh shut up.” You said snatching yourself away from his touch.
“I’m serious, and the worst part was I got a boner in the middle of it so then I really really couldn’t focus.” He didn’t spare any detail retelling the agony he was in. “But now I’m home with you to put my out of my misery.” A deviant smirk crept across his face before he forcefully tugged your shirt causing your body to fall forward. There was an unmistakable lustful fire in his eyes.
He abruptly left the couch returning with a white box with pink lettering. A gift? Or at least you thought it was a gift but that theory was debunked when you saw Keigo tear into the box himself. Seconds later he unceremoniously revealed a pink and white Hitachi wand, it was custom with your name monogrammed on the handle. It was nice and you wished that he would let you have it but you knew for a fact that wasn’t happening but he could at least show it to you. And he did eventually, looking at the toy excited you even more, and at this point, it was teetering on the brink of torture. Maybe this is what Keigo was talking about.
He told you everything about the toy, it was rechargeable, wireless it had 14 different modes and it was special, he ordered it just for you. You stared up at him wide-eyed practically begging him to play with you, yet still he was acting clueless. By now you had figured out that he was doing it on purpose it wanted you desperate, you were typically too shy to beg but the boys were known for pushing your limits. Keigo locked eyes with you and the two of you shared an intense gaze you wore the looking of longing plainly on your face, silently submitting to him.
“Do you wanna try it?” He asked nonchalantly.
“Yeah.”
“Me too but I have an idea.” He began and his sadistic smile returned. “I’m gonna edge you, yeah that’s what I decided until I get my test scores back depending on what I get we’ll see when I let you cum.” He explained. It was like he had it all figured out. Like he had been planning it. Perhaps that’s what he had been so quiet since his arrival.
You were still up in the clouds but his idea had brought you back down to Earth surely there was no way that he wouldn’t let you cum for who knows how long and there’s no way that Dabi would be able to hold you to it, or would he. That sadistic motherfucker will probably love the idea, anything that would turn you into even more of a needy bitch. You still hadn’t replied, the idea was just sitting in your mind, there was no way that you could tell him no just look at that face, besides he wasn’t asking anyways.
“Oh but I still want head.”
“How is that fair?” You whined.
Meanwhile, Keigo got up from the couch once again. This time he came back with the bondage tape. What the hell was going on in that barbarous mind of his. Suddenly you felt his grasp on your arm pulling you right into his lap.
“C’mere.” was the only warning he gave.You could feel his erection through the bearly there material of your shorts. A small whimper fell from your mouth at the friction, not to go unnoticed.
He made quick work Undressing you, it was a miracle that you never wore underwear in the house or hardly at all for that matter. Instantly his attention focused on your leaking slit. “ Oh my God look at your sloppy little cunt.” He said swiping the pads of his fingers over your clit causing you to shutter in response.
Keigo was sicker than Dabi he liked to torture you but he truly got off on pushing your limits Dabi just got off on the idea of humiliating you. He rested his hand on the top of your tummy lightly tapping his fingertips on your skin. A subtle arch of you back was giving away just how needed you were. Continuing his teasing he ran his fingers over your slick core. After he’d gathered a good amount of your fluid on his fingertips he brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting your arousal. Your hole quivered in response, but the real kick was when you found his wet fingers resting in your bottom lip. Obeying his request you sucked his fingers into your mouth tasting the mixture of your fluids.
He praised you with a smile before he pulled off a strip of tape. Lining the head of the Hitachi up with your clit he taped it into place, he added another strip of tape at the bottom of the wand securing it in place. Then he turned it on low and the small vibrations began to stimulate your cunt and you pulled a lustful face.
“Remember little bird you aren’t allowed to cum.” His eyes darkened before he spoke again. “You don’t wanna find out what’ll happen if you disobey me.” He finished, you nodded your head in agreement. It wasn’t enough for him he locked his hands in your curls pulling your head back and allowing your mouth to fall open. “Do you understand me?”
“Yes Sir.” You gulped as Keigo turned up the vibrations. Now they were a bit intense and you found yourself involuntarily bucking your hips every now and then.
“Perfect” Keigo agreed before sliding you off of his lap. He pulled out his already stiff dick, the tip was red, oozing with precum and your favorite part, decorated with a red titanium Prince Albert piercing. You licked your lips upon laying eyes on his member, someone’s hungry. “C’mere then you little slut.” He said roughly grasping the back of your neck to bring your mouth to meet his dick. “Keep your legs together, gotta make sure we keep that nast clit stimulated.” He said with a chuckle.
You were a superb cocksucker, Dabi made sure of that. So Keigo didn’t really have to do much. He just sat back and relaxed as your head bobbed up and down. Lewd noises began to fall from his mouth, it was like the vibrations from your pussy turned into moans around his dick. A heavy hand rested on the back of your head as you continued working away, Keigo then snaked his hands between your legs turning the vibrations up to the max. You gagged on his dick at the sudden change of intensity, the hand on the back of your head became more forceful pushing you down on his cock while his hip rutted into your face.
“Yeah just like that princess. Keigo praised. Your pussy was gushing by this point, throbbing and clasping down on the emptiness you felt. The low guttural moans turned into lustful whines. Keigo withdrew his dick from your mouth with a pop just in time to paint your face with hot thick ropes of cum. That mixed with the slobber made you into a perfect mess. You were still mewling at the vibrator stuck between your legs to overcome with pleasure to think. “Now let’s see how much of a mess your pussy is now.”
He had you lay on your back legs spread finally allowing the Hitach to ease off of your clit. The toy still buzzed frantically Against your inner thigh causing ripples in the soft skin Keigo ran his fingers over your clit once more and you shuttered hard at his touch. “Sensitive now aren’t we?” He laughed, still brushing light circles on your clit bringing to the edge rather quickly.
“Please, Sir.” You moaned. “C-can I c-uuummm please sir.” You said gripping the sofa cushions underneath you.
“There’s no time sweetheart.” He said, pulling out his phone and unlocking it quickly before Turning it off and putting it back into his pocket. “Dabi’s almost home, go wait at the door for him. I want him to see my masterpiece.” He said with a smug grin.
~~~~~~~~~~
Dabi walked through the door and he was visibly taken back by you sitting at the door waiting with a full face paint and a vibrator attached to your leg, Jesus Keigo. Dabi was disappointed that he wasn’t creative enough to think of something like that. He felt his cock twitch instantly in his jeans upon laying eyes on you. It was like something that he could only dream of. How did Keigo get you to agree to something like this?
“Hi, beautiful.” He said looking down at you on your knees before him with half lidded eyes and his forehead cocked back trying his best to conceal his excitement. “Looks like you got a neat little face paint going on here.” He said, examining Keigo’s work. It took seconds for Dabi’s cock to be straining against his zipper.
“D-addy.” You whined as the Hitachi was still pressed to your aching cunt. Keigo finally spoke up from the corner of the room.
“A doll isn’t she?” He was wearing the widest grin.Strolling proudly over to Dabi he created him with a kiss. Your black haired boyfriend gripped the blonde's jaw asserting his dominance in the interaction before pushing him away. The blonde stumbled backwards itha a grin on his face. Your hole shivered from the ongoing vibrations and the hotness of the scene in front of you let out a loud lewd moan uncontrollably, throwing your head back.
“Yeah a twisted like doll.” Dabi answered.
“ I’m edging her. Think she can take it?” He explained regaining his balance strolling over to pat your head.
“Oh, this princess? No way.” He said nudging your knee with the tip of his boot. Your face was buried in Dabi’s crotch while two men just chatted about you as if you weren’t in the room.
Keigo whisked you away to the living room with Dabi in tow of course, the pervert was going to watch. Keigo laid you down pressing your knees apart, shoving them up towards your ears. Your sensitive bud was temporarily relieved from the vibe. He was inspecting you, he could see your clit jumping from the overstimulation.
“Dabi looking, she’s dancing.” Keigo cheered. Dabi came over to look and he was right, your little pink nub was jumping up and down. Keigo shoved his pants down and sat beside you before pulling you to straddle his lap with you back to his chest.
It wasn’t a second before his dick was inside of you and a horrible groan fell from your lips from his insertion. It’s impossible you are going to bust. He was making you ride him with each of your feet planted on either side of him. You couldn’t help it, you screamed as your hips bucked off of his dick, body trying to run from the overwhelming sensation. Keigo’s grip was tight on your hips as he pulled you down forcing you to fuck yourself on his entire length. Through the fresh tears that welled in your eyes you could see Dabi sitting on the other couch with his dickin in his hand, pumping it mercilessly. The look in his eye was unlike anything you’d ever seen from him.
Keigo could sense your loss of focus and bucked his hips into you, hitting that sensitive spot within you. Now you were seeing stars, howling for release.
“Dabi I think she wants you to play to” Keigo said
“Well that’s all you had to say Princess. Dabi said, ejecting himself from the sofa and positioning himself in front of you and Keigo. You weren’t even given the chance to part your lips before once again Keigo had a rough hand in your hair yanking it causing you mouth to fall open, giving Dabi the perfect opportunity to slip into your mouth. The cold of his Jacobs ladder piercings provided a nice contrast to the heat of your tongue.
Your moans and screams were now choked as you sputtered around Dabis base, your neck taught trying to push for any resistance you could. Eventually you were granted a break, your lung swelled with air and your first exhale was used to beg for mercy. Your words came out broken as the man beneath you continued snapping his hips to meet yours.
“Pl-lug-ease sir I need to cum I-I can’t hold it anymore.” You whined breathlessly.
“God I know.” Keigo moaned. “The way you are fucking milking me I’m gonna-.” He didn’t even finish his sentence before he emptied himself inside you. When he pulled out there were long ribbons of your stifled arousal mixed with his that connected the two of you. “See Princess I knew you could do it.” He said as he reached around you to give you cunt a slap. “Told ya.” He tossed in looking up at Dabi taunting him with a wink.
Your body was nearly limp as Dabi moved aside to allow Keigo to peel you off of him, placing you on the couch on your back once more. This time the room is spinning and you know that you can’t take anymore stimulation without release. To you delight the vibrator was finally turned off and the buzzing cesed, however your clit was raw. You whimpered when you felt his soft wet muscle. It wasn’t long before he bypassed your nub and his tongue prodded at your quivering hole. It wasn’t for you, Keigo's slender tongue hastily lapped up the mixture of you two. Quickly withdrawing himself before walking over to Dabi. One of his hands caressed his jaw before he brought his lips to meet those of the dark haired man.
Unlike before, Dabi leaned into the kiss with an eagerness. Keigo hand then moved to clutch his still hard dick. He then began to stroke him. You watched dreamily through half lidded eyes, the sight was titillating to say the least. Your eyes dragged over your spent form, knowing that you couldn’t take anymore. Soon thick white ropes were shooting from Dabi’s cock, each one landing on your exposed belly skin leaving a warm aura around them.
“You just came for me fire crotch.” Keigo teased.
“Shut the fuck up.” Dabi said shoving him away before stuffing himself back into his pants. Dabi disappeared into the room emerging with a warm towel.
Keigo left to find you comfy clothes, he came back with a pair of fuzzy shorts and your favorite of his hoodies. While Dabi was cleaning up your face Keigo was untapping the vibrator at last. Once everything was done and you were all cleaned up and changed the boys cuddled into either side of you. Your head was in Dabi’s lap as he gingerly brushed your curls into a bun and your feet were in Keigo's lap and he was playing ‘this little piggy’ with your toes.
It then dawned on you that you had still yet to cum. A deep aching called to you and you whimpered in response.
“Ready for more, eh princess?”
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coconut-cluster · 4 years
Text
Crowns and Cutlasses: Chapter 4
First  |  Previous  | Next |  AO3 |  my masterlist  | kofi
tw: this chapter has a lot of flashbacks and memories of implied child abuse, and some violence at the beginning, as well as mentions of knives and swords (not used in the aforementioned violence, they’re just in the chapter). please use discretion in reading!! otherwise enjoy :)
--
Roman was so caught up in the thoughts rushing through his head - how long ago did Remus and the others leave? Would they be back soon enough? Would anyone hear him if he called out now? Was he going to die here right after getting his brother back? - that he barely registered the first blow. That is, until he realized he was on the floor. 
His head spun as he stared at the wooden planks, hands braced against the ground as he tried to gather his senses as quickly as possible. A drop of red fell to the wood before his eyes - he brought a hand to his nose and blinked at the stain on his fingertips when he pulled them away. There was something uncomfortably familiar about the situation. His mind felt frenzied, like his thoughts themselves were panicking, even as he felt himself just staring, just blinking. 
Another blow, a kick to his stomach that rocked him enough to refocus his thoughts on the situation at hand, on the pain that exploded in his midsection. It wasn’t like he’d never been hit before - sparring with Remus when they were younger got out of hand a lot, and after Remus disappeared and their father lost that precious outlet for his frustrations, there were all the times Roman fumbled an announcement or forgot a report or talked a too much or too little at dinners and meetings and parties - but this pain scared him, because he wasn’t there anymore, he’d left the castle behind, and yet here he was, cowering on a floor yet again. 
Was there a sword down here? His brain was foggy- had he seen one in the crates? 
Another kick, this time to his chest, and instinctively he covered his head. His mind was a mess of fragmented thoughts - blood on the sleeve of his uniform (he hadn’t wiped his nose, right? His dad would hate to see blood on his jacket), digging his heels into the floor and holding his door shut from the inside with all his strength, plugging his ears and listening to his own breathing to block out his dad and Remus arguing, the sinking feeling of a closed door and empty room, and he needed a sword, a sword, a sword-
Samuel kicked harder than he looked like he could, Roman thought with sudden clarity. He was a little scrawny to kick so hard. 
It didn’t have to be a sword, he told himself, just something he could get his hands on. Anything - pirates stole building materials, didn’t they? To repair their ships? A plank of wood, or- or some kind of tool, that could work. If he could get up, it would work.  
He needed to get up.
Was Samuel still kicking? Was this what he’d planned all along? To kick him to death? Roman was almost affronted at how barbaric it was; kicked to death in the lower deck of a pirate ship, what would his father think? (Would he have had it differently? In a ballroom instead, or private quarters where it could all be swept under a rug, maybe. Roman felt the familiar shiver in his spine of a thought he wanted out of his head immediately.) 
He needed to get up. 
He wanted this to stop. He didn’t like feeling helpless on the ground, bruised or bleeding or battered. He didn’t want to be thinking about his father, not here, not now, not ever again if he could help it. He didn’t like the panic of broken thoughts and shivers in his spine and he wanted this to be over. 
There was a thud somewhere - overhead, maybe, someone stepping heavier or falling, and once again, Roman wondered if they would hear him or if he was doomed to die just beneath their footsteps. 
Another thud, and then another; Samuel was saying something between them. Roman thought maybe he’d been saying something this whole time, something about the kingdom and his family, but Roman couldn’t make out the words in his weird mind-limbo. Another thud, and another, and it felt like a rhythm (...it didn’t sound like footsteps). His side hurt, like it used to after bad days. He squeezed his eyes shut.  
A final thud - a crash more than a thud, really - synced up with a kick to his stomach, and at last he had the sense to curl in on himself, hands curled into tight fists over his head as he waited for the next blow. 
And waited. 
And waited....
And nothing came. 
After a minute - a full minute that felt like years of Roman holding his breath and trying to focus, reaching to bring his mind back to here and now - he realized there was another voice in the hold. Samuel shouted something, fiery and hoarse, his footsteps uneven, and then there was quiet. 
Roman blinked his eyes open. He saw the door to the hold swung open, the bolt halfway dislodged from the wall. A few feet away, Samuel sat slumped against a stack of crates, his eyes closed and an arm limply draped over his lap. 
And standing over him was the boy with dark eyes, holding his own shoulder as he watched Samuel shift slightly, brow knit and gaze wary like he was waiting on alert for the crewmate to get back up and fight again. In the sudden silence of the hold, all Roman could hear was the boy’s careful breathing and his own heartbeat rushing in his ears. 
The boy looked to him suddenly, his frown deepening as Roman squinted at him. (The prince’s mind was still foggy, in all fairness, and he wasn’t quite all there to process that he was still alive, let alone the fact that the pretty boy from the crow’s nest literally just saved his life.)
“Jesus Christ,” the boy said, and his voice was low and kind of gravelly, a sharp edge to Roman’s muddy thoughts. He took a hesitant step forward and kneeled down in front of Roman, those dark eyes scanning the prince’s face as he asked, quietly, “Can you hear me?” 
Roman squinted again and suppressed the urge to just close his eyes and lay back down. “Yes,” he said, the word scratching his throat. 
The boy sighed with obvious relief. “Thank God,” he muttered. “Remus would have killed us all.” He frowned at Roman again, then held out a hand, halfway between helpful and warning, when the prince started to force himself to a sitting position. “Are you good to get up?” 
“Yeah,” Roman said, even as pain shot up his side and his chest and stomach ached. He was used to this part - being sore, and shaky, and indescribably tired - but it still felt awful, just like it always had. He could tell his rib would be aching for the next week. “Is your shoulder okay?” 
The boy stopped. “What?”
“Your shoulder. You were holding it.” 
“Oh.” He frowned, shaking his head to himself as Roman took his hand and pulled himself up. “Yeah, it’s fine, but I don’t- I really don’t think my shoulder is what you should be worried about.” 
“You broke the door open,” Roman said idly, swaying a bit as he got to his feet.
The boy stared at him. “Did Sam kick your head?”
“No, just a punch to the face. Am I still bleeding?”
“...No.” 
“Oh, good. Is he alright?”
The boy looked over his shoulder at Samuel, still slumped against the crates, chewing on the inside of his cheek as the crewmate shifted again, just barely. “He’ll be fine.” He turned back to Roman, and the confusion in his expression was almost comical to the prince’s dizzy mind. “Are you alright?” 
“Oh, fine, fine, I’m used to this.” The boy raised his eyebrows. “From sparring. With the knights, I mean,” Roman said quickly, ignoring the way the boy just frowned again. “Thank you, by the way, for saving my life. I appreciate it, uh-” 
He trailed off, and after a minute of searching for a name that didn’t come to him, he remembered he’d only been calling him Dark-eyed Boy in his head up until that point. 
“Calling me what?” the boy said, his frown finally turning to something sort of like a half smile as Roman realized he’d said it out loud. (Maybe Samuel had kicked him in the head.) 
“Your name,” he said quickly. He took a deep breath, steadying as his senses came about him finally, thankfully, and he cleared his throat when the boy’s half smile didn’t fall. Up close, Roman could see more of those dark eyes - they were heavy lidded, and almond shaped, and framed by equally dark eyelashes, and even in the dim light of the hold, they glinted something sharp. He cleared his throat again.  “I don’t know your name.”
The boy smothered his smirk at last, and Roman had to be imagining the flush on his olive skin. “Virgil.” His eyes flickered over Roman again, lingering on the hand he had pressed to his left side. “And you look like you’re about to pass out- are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. I broke a rib a few years back,” he explained when Virgil - Virgil! He had a name! - kept frowning at his side. “It just aches sometimes.”
“Right.” Roman didn’t have time to even consider taking offense to his disbelieving tone - it was flagrantly disrespectful, even if Roman wasn’t technically a prince anymore - because Virgil glanced behind to the door and said, “We should get back to the upper decks before Sam wakes up.” He looked to Roman uncertainly. “Do you… need help?”
Roman blinked at him. “With what?”
“Getting up the steps.” Virgil’s gaze flicked over him again, and he raised an eyebrow. “Or standing upright.”
“Excuse me?”
“...You’re shaking.”
Roman looked down and found that, indeed, his wrists were shaking, and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, his knees felt just a few moments from buckling. He curled his free hand into a fist to force down the tremble and looked back to Virgil with as little uncertainty as he could muster. “I’m fine.” 
Virgil just raised his eyebrows again. “Okay. Come on, then - before Sam wakes up and causes himself more trouble.” 
 ---
There was a little thrill in stepping onto the deck again. It was a rush of adrenaline, a shiver of relief as Roman inhaled the sea-salt air, free from the must of old wood and parchment; it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes he’d been in the hold, but after nearly accepting that he wouldn’t leave it alive, he was practically overwhelmed by the solace of the open air. 
“Remus should be back soon,” Virgil said, drawing him out of his little revel. “Sam really drew out his- tour, so by now,” he muttered as he stared out at the town, his eyebrows furrowed, tapping a finger restlessly against the hilt of something hidden by his jacket, “they should be on their way back. Remus will deal with Sam.” 
There was something reluctant in his tone at that reassurance, and knowing Remus, Roman didn’t blame him. His brother had never been the shining example of empathy - and even with as much as his body ached, Roman knew Samuel deserved some empathizing. 
He shifted his hand as another wave of dull pain spread through his side. Virgil glanced at him again, and as Roman turned away, eager to shift the attention from himself for once, he caught a group of crewmates on the far edge of the deck staring at them just before they averted their eyes. He remembered, starkly and all at once, the time he’d returned to a party his mother had thrown for foreign dignitaries, a bruise on his wrist just visible under his shirt sleeve; he remembered the way his father had grabbed that wrist and dragged him to the kitchens, asking him why he wanted to embarrass the entire royal family in front of dignitaries. He had the sudden urge to wipe the blood from his face now, straighten his jacket and spine, to act like he was fine, because the thought of these strangers seeing him bruised and shaky made him want to pull himself into a corner and curl into himself until he disappeared- 
“Can you climb?” 
He blinked at Virgil and forced down the racing in his chest. “What?” 
“Climb. Like, a ladder.” He just blinked back at Roman as the prince stared at him, brow furrowed, until finally, he nodded to the crow’s nest. “I know they’re looking over here, and I know it’s uncomfortable, so do you think you can climb up there?”
“Oh.” He stared up at the empty crow’s nest, at the ladder leading up to it; his side ached, but as he caught the eyes of yet another pair of crewmates focused on him, he found himself saying “Yes,” without a second beat of hesitation.  
The walk to the crow’s nest left him gritting his teeth, but the climb up the ladder was a labor; every rung left the soon-to-be bruises on his stomach radiating pain, and looking up made him feel as if his head was filled with cotton. He held in his winces, though, lest Virgil ask him yet again if he was okay. (He wasn’t sure how many more times he could take before he thought too hard about it and told the truth.)
After a few minutes - the ladder was taller than it seemed, and though Virgil climbed quickly, and Roman would usually be capable of the same, his body felt like he was dragging it instead of using it - they reached the crow’s nest. It was just an empty, cup-like structure, but the air up high was cooler, and the sounds of the crewmates below seemed to fade beneath the wind in Roman’s ears. He took a deep breath of the breeze and felt his shoulders loosen up at last. 
Virgil sat down against the half wall of the nest, tugging the sleeves of his jacket further down as Roman looked out over the deck. The crewmates glanced up at him after a second before looking away just as quickly; Roman took a step back from the ledge the instant they looked back up. 
Virgil was watching him with an unfazed frown when he turned around. “They’re not going to stop.” 
Roman frowned back. “I don’t get why they just keep looking at me. Normally, I’m not against that,” he admitted, and Virgil snorted (rude, again, though he didn’t much care at this point), “but I do not like this… this gawking. It’s odd.” He collapsed beside Virgil, grateful to give his shaky legs a rest at last, and sighed. “Are they always like this?”
“They’re nosy,” Virgil deadpanned, an eyebrow raised. “So yes.” 
He leaned back against the wall of the crow’s nest and brushed back his coat to grab the hilt at his side, pulling out a short blade - for some reason, Roman was surprised to see a pirate with a dagger rather than a sword, but as Virgil focused on twirling it in his hand, he supposed it was just as useful so long as you knew how to use it. For a few moments, his mind was alleviated of the aches in his midsection as he watched the way the blade twisted between Virgil’s nimble fingers. 
“Despite Remus being… Remus,” Virgil continued in that low tone of his, missing Roman’s literal snap back to attention, “not a lot actually happens around here. There’s action, I mean, because Remus has no self-preservation instinct - that’s mostly on me,” he said dryly. “But not a lot that’s interesting in a mundane way, I guess. So they’re just nosy about you and Remus. It’ll die out eventually.”
“Oh,” Roman said, like the eloquent, educated ex-prince he was. “That’s good to know.” 
Virgil watched his dagger as they both fell silent. Roman faced the sky above, watching the gray clouds that had rolled in drift lazily onward, hiding the sun and bringing drifts that swept his bangs across his forehead, almost the way his mom used to when she tut-tutted about haircuts and preparations for one party or another. He wondered, idly, how she was doing now. The king had never paid her much mind (despite the adoring gazes painted between them in their wedding portraits in the Great Hall), but now, with Roman and Remus gone, Roman couldn’t help but worry that had changed for her. He pushed the thought away after another minute.
He had just started to shift again, trying to focus on anything but the slowly-dying pain in his stomach and chest, when Virgil said, suddenly, “Remus never told me he had a brother.” 
Roman stopped dead in his tracks and stared at him. “What?” 
“I’ve been part of the crew for a couple years, but he never mentioned having a brother. He didn’t talk a lot about his family at all, I guess,” he said quietly, frowning, “except…” He stared at his dagger again, before he shook his head to himself and gave a small shrug under Roman’s furrowed gaze. “He never really said outright that he’d been a prince, either, although I guess I got the hint that he was pretty important before he came here- to the Horven, I mean. But he never told me about you.” 
Roman blinked. “Never?” he repeated, his voice hollow. Virgil nodded haltingly. 
A different kind of ache echoed in his chest. He thought about being on a ship for three years without any family or old friends and never talking about your own twin, never even mentioning him. He supposed, in the years before Remus disappeared, they had argued more and more, but had it been enough to make Remus want to rid his new life of his brother altogether? To never mention him to his crew? 
And then he thought back to the first day after Remus was gone, three years ago. 
Roman had gone through the day almost numb, a small part of him recoiling every time he went to watch Remus’ reaction to something or expected his brother’s belligerent laugh and found only a silent, empty seat. He thought about all the days, for the three years, that he had spent alone in the room they used to share when they were kids, never moving the dark green blanket on the bed opposite to his old red one, never touching the row of sea creature models on the shelf, never disturbing the portrait of them hanging on the back wall with their messy signatures in the bottom corner. There were days where he’d sneak in there before sunrise and stay until Patton came knocking on the door, begging him to come out before the king and queen found him instead. 
Not a day went by in those three years where he didn’t think of his brother, but talking about him to anyone brought forth a wave of something that welled in his chest and crawled up his throat; in a world of new people, in a new life, if Remus had felt the same something in himself... then Roman understood. 
“Sorry,” Virgil said, and when Roman focused on him again, he found those dark eyes watching him warily. “I shouldn’t have brought it up, I was just- confused, I guess. But Remus probably just assumed I knew, since almost everyone else is from Unindra and knew about you anyway-”
“You’re not from Unindra?” 
Roman hadn’t meant to interrupt, especially before explaining that it was alright and he didn’t need to apologize, but Virgil looked relieved for the topic change, sighing as he shook his head again. “No.”
It took another beat of silence and Virgil going back to twirling his dagger for Roman to realize he wasn’t going to explain where he was from. The prince cleared his throat instead, leaning back against the wooden wall. “Well, I suppose that’s better for you.” Virgil raised an eyebrow, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye as Roman thought back to the memories of his father from today alone, the bitter resignation in Samuel’s eyes when he quoted the king’s death decree. “Unindra has been under unfit rule for a long while now. Better, I think, to have avoided it all together.” 
Virgil eyed him. “What about you?” 
“Hm?”
“You were under that rule too, I assume. Unless being prince made you exempt from being parented?” 
Roman stared at the clouded sky. If what Samuel said was true, the blight would have been the winter after his and Remus’ thirteenth birthday; that was the winter, if Roman remembered right (albeit reluctantly), when their father broke Remus’ wrist after a tense dinner - the same winter he punished Roman for an errant comment in an interview by locking him in his room and forgetting to let him out for days. He never questioned why the king had worsened so much in just one season, just tried to keep his head down until spring came and the mood around the palace improved again. 
“No,” he said finally. “It didn’t.”
Virgil nodded slowly, turning his gaze back to his dagger and studying the way its blade reflected the stormclouds above. “Well,” he said after a moment, and from just his tone, Roman felt as if he understood something more than had been said out loud. It was more comforting a feeling than Roman expected. “I guess-” 
“We’re baaaack!” 
Roman and Virgil both jumped at the voice from the pier - Remus always had a way of spooking people. Roman, on instinct, dropped his hand from his side at last, ignoring the way Virgil frowned at him when he held back a wince as he stood. But the pirate said nothing, just sheathed his dagger and stood up as well.
“Hello? Have you all gone brain dead in my absence?” Remus waved at the crewmates around the deck as Roman descended the ladder of the crow’s nest slowly, haltingly; it took until Roman had touched down on the deck for his brother to notice him, and when he did, he brightened in a way that gave Roman the inexplicable urge to hug him. The memories of the three years without him getting to his head again, he supposed. After the last hour, though, the relief of seeing Remus (with Patton and Logan in tow) was like a spring uncoiling in his chest. 
“There you are,” Remus grinned. His eyes landed on Virgil as he jumped from the last couple rungs of the ladder, and tilted his head. “Sam was that boring, huh?” 
If he noticed the look Virgil and Roman shared, he didn’t say anything; he was already jumping to the next thought before either of them could explain. “Nevermind, that doesn’t matter. Janus- Jannie,” he motioned for Janus to come quicker up to the deck from the pier, waving impatiently faster as the first mate just raised an eyebrow and walked the same pace, “show him what you got. Give him the clothes. Go.” 
Janus smacked Remus’ hand away when the captain tried to push him onward and handed the pile of clothes instead to Patton, who grabbed Logan’s wrist and dragged him over to the base of the crow’s nest. 
“The town was so cute,” Patton whispered excitedly, “you would’ve loved it, Ro, and I helped pick out your outfit so if you don’t like it, tell me, but don’t be mean, because I spent a while picking it out because I couldn’t decide on the pants, but I think these ones’ll really suit you. You just need to hear about all the booths, they were everywhere in the streets-” 
“Roman?” Logan’s eyes flicked over him, the way his hand had returned to his side, the way his breathing was slightly labored; Patton’s enthusiasm waned as he got a closer look at Roman’s all-too-familiar stature. “Are you alright?” 
Roman glanced at the door to the lower decks, taking the clothes from Patton’s hands. “It’s… a bit of a story-”
“Go get changed, you cretin,” Remus called out to him. “If I have to see that tacky uniform for another second, I’m gonna start dueling people to get my rage out, and you’ll be first. Go!” 
Virgil elbowed him lightly and said, under his breath so only Roman could hear, “I’ll talk to him. Just go to your cabin to change and avoid the hold; we’ll take care of Sam.”
“Tell him to be merciful,” Roman whispered back, only half joking.
“I will.” 
Logan and Patton looked between them, their frowns deepening, but Roman just gave them another small smile - small, he told himself, not frail - and nodded gratefully to Virgil, and went to get changed out of the last remnant of his life in the palace. 
---
There had been no commotion outside his cabin as he changed out of his uniform, yet as Roman stepped back out into the open air just minutes later, Samuel was nowhere to be seen on the ship. 
It was hard, however, to miss the storm of tension that had swept over the ship. The crew lingered on the edges of the deck (Patton and Logan included, though Roman couldn’t locate Janus and his uninterested, mismatched gaze), eyes averted from where Virgil was talking to Remus in low tones; even from across the ship, Roman could see the way his brother’s brow was furrowed, his teeth grit, his fingers tapping restlessly on the hilt of his sword at his side. Remus looked up, just for a second, and his eyes met Roman’s. The captain said something short to Virgil, who just nodded as Remus made his way across the deck. 
Roman turned to face the water, focusing on the waves and the fish he could just see below the dark surface while Remus’ footsteps echoed nearer in the silence of the ship. They came to a stop beside him; for a moment, both of them were quiet. 
“I would’ve let you come into town if I’d known you’d get yourself in trouble on the ship, too,” Remus said finally, and even though Roman could tell he was trying to joke, the stiffness in his voice hindered any humor.  
“I’m fine.” Remus didn’t respond, and Roman hated the heaviness of the silence and the way it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “If it means anything.”
Another beat of silence.
“You broke a rib,” Remus said. It was a simple statement, but Roman knew what he was actually asking. 
“A few days after you were gone.” Roman kept his eyes trained on tying his old sash around his waist - he inherited it from his grandfather, and though it had ripped sometime in the last few days, he was reluctant to get rid of it - as he felt Remus’ eyes on him. He wanted to be mad at Virgil for telling Remus that detail, but somehow he knew it wasn’t out of malicious intent, so he swallowed his pride and the slight panic rising in his throat. “In a meeting. Mom was away with her court-” 
“Of course she was.” 
Roman raised his eyebrows in agreement, and cleared his throat before he continued, haltingly, “I don’t remember what it was about - I think I corrected him about your disappearance, maybe. But after all the ambassadors and generals and, y’know- after they all left, he freaked out. Even broke one of the chairs,” he said with a humorless laugh. Remus was silent, and Roman knew he was still watching him. He cleared his throat again. “He told everyone I got into a fight with one of the ambassador’s sons.” 
“And they believed him.” 
Roman stared at the knot in his sash as another dull ache radiated from his side, as if to rub it all in. “Yeah.”
There was a beat of silence between them. Roman knew, without looking back, that the other crewmates were watching them, as they had been since Roman boarded the ship. He never minded being the center of attention, but now all he wanted was to disappear from their view, hide their voices from the crewmates’ ears as they spoke about home. 
“We’re leaving Samuel at the town,” Remus said suddenly. Roman finally looked at him - he was staring out at the water, his face carefully blank in a way Roman knew meant he was barely holding himself together. “No killing, not even a little maiming. You should be proud of me; I’m being boring, just like you asked.”
Roman managed half a smile at that, his voice light (light, he told himself, not frail) as he said, “I think I asked you to be merciful-”
“Same thing.” Remus cracked a small smile of his own, but it faded as quickly as it came. “Janus gave him some funds and supplies to survive until he finds someplace to stay. He’ll be fine there. Provided for, at least.”
“He has a sister,” Roman said, for some reason. Remus glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. 
“He’s free to go find her, then.” Roman nodded - that was as much sympathy as he expected to garner from Remus. But after a moment, just when Roman was sure the topic would be swiftly left behind, his brother added quietly, “I hope he does.”
And Roman hoped so, too. 
---
By the time they had set sail again, the somber mood of the ship had all but dissipated - one of the crewmates brought out their fiddle and played jaunty tunes as the others danced in pairs, their footsteps a bright rhythm on the deck as the town disappeared on the horizon behind them. Roman had situated himself with Patton and Logan on the far side of the ship while everyone else reveled, grateful to be able to finally have some time just with his friends after the stress of the last couple days. 
“There was this one booth,” Patton waved his hands around as he spoke, nearly hitting Logan, whose attention was focused on tying and untying a knot in his tie idly, “with just- just mountains of sweets, more than that confectioner outside the palace back home, I’m not even exaggerating, I counted eleven different kinds of chocolate just as we passed by- oh, and another booth with all these little dolls, they were so cute!”
Roman shared an amused look with Logan beside him. “Well, I wish I could’ve seen them myself.”
“They had one in a prince uniform that reminded me of you, Ro, with the little sash and everything! I should have asked Janus if we could get it-”
“Certainly sounds like you two got along well,” Logan commented dryly. 
“Ohhh, someone sounds a little bitter. Can’t say the same for your little date, Lo?” Roman grinned, biting back a laugh as Logan scowled at him. 
“I’m happy for your family reunion, Roman,” he said, completely deadpan, “but be aware that the chance of me pushing your brother overboard if he calls me love one more time is more than likely.”
Roman actually did laugh at that, and Patton, too - Logan didn’t seem amused. “If it’s any consolation,” the prince managed between wheezes, “that’s much sweeter than what I expected from Remus. He doesn’t know when to stop, though, I’ll give you that.” 
“He’s going to have to stop when he’s in the ocean,” Logan muttered, eyebrows raised, and Patton burst into laughter all over again. 
“Are we talking about throwing Remus overboard?” a voice beside him said. Roman turned and delighted in finding Virgil settled beside him on their makeshift bench, his black coat discarded and dark hair set aglow by the sunset, and good Lord, he really was pretty in a way that made Roman’s ardent heart rush. It rushed faster when Virgil waited until Logan and Patton glanced at each other before he made a face at Roman, a small frown, as if to ask You doing okay? 
“We are,” Roman said brightly, and that seemed enough of an answer for Virgil’s frown to smooth into a small smirk. “That’s a regular occurrence here, I take it?”
Virgil leaned back against the railing, arms crossed over his chest as he spared a quick glance to where Remus was enthusiastically supervising the dancers across the deck. He leaned in conspiratorially - Roman ignored the heat on his face and leaned in, too, as Virgil stage-whispered, “Janus and I threaten it when he acts like he’s not listening-”
“Not that it deters him,” Janus huffed as he came to the other side of the bench, where he leaned his hip against the railing beside Patton. “He might be into it, actually. We’re testing the waters.” 
Patton grinned at the pun (and Roman didn’t miss the way Janus looked proud of himself - he couldn’t help but wonder what had spurred such a quick switch from the borderline-menacing disposition he’d had just that morning, though Roman had a feeling he could name one freckle-faced cause). 
“Oh, Jan, what do you think of the outfits?” Patton gestured excitedly to his striped tunic and the white scarf tied loosely around his waist as Roman mouthed Jan? to an equally incredulous Logan. “I think we look like real pirates, right?” 
“You technically are real pirates, but,” Janus said, raising an eyebrow at all three of them, “now that you all don’t look like you about to throw a ball or wage war on a small country, it’s much easier to believe.” 
And though Roman took a little offense to the war part (Unindra hadn’t waged war in centuries), he had to admit, Janus had a point. Logan and Patton’s uniforms, plain as they had been, were obvious relics from the kingdom, with their pristine fabric and sewn insignias and careful piping, and Roman’s ceremony outfit simply couldn’t be mistaken for anything but royal (if all the gilded accents and satin sash didn’t raise any alarms, the gold epaulettes were certainly a tip off). 
Now, though, despite the fact that most of the crewmates were noticeably more roughed-up than them, they managed to blend in: Patton’s tunic and the plain shirt underneath were threadbare, and he’d acquired a pair of weathered boots; Logan had kept his tie (Roman hadn’t expected him to part with the token), but he just held onto it instead of wearing it, as the rest of his uniform had been replaced with a faded shirt and double-breasted waistcoat, and his dark curls were windswept from a couple days in the ocean air; and ironically enough, Roman’s outfit was now the most plain of the three, just a loose off-white shirt and dark pants, his sash tied around his waist where he’d tucked the shirt in. The crew was a motley of different styles and garments, and the trio’s hodgepodge outfits fit right in. 
“What do you think?” Roman turned back to Virgil, gesturing to his new attire, though it seemed he’d already been looking. “Yay, nay?” 
Virgil’s eyes flicked over the outfit again, catching for a split second on the v-cut of the shirt’s collar, before he cleared his throat and said, “Uh, yay. It’s great- it’s good, I mean, you guys look good.”
Before Roman could respond - probably a good thing, since he likely would have made some stupid comment about the way Virgil had rolled his sleeves to his elbows, because he was having difficulty looking away from that - a voice rang out behind them, strident as always, “Are you all planning a mutiny over there?”  
Remus pushed his way through the small crowd of crewmates still dancing (though the energy seemed to be slowing down, since most of them had sat down around the deck), striding toward their little group; Roman just heard Logan mutter “Oh, Jesus,” under his breath. 
“If you are planning a mutiny,” Remus said, hands on his hips as he reached them, “I want to be beheaded, and you have to stick my head right on the mast for every passing ship to see. That’s the only way I’ll be happy in death, otherwise I’ll haunt you fools to your dying days.” 
“I don’t think mutinying crewmates follow the demands of the captain they’re rebelling against,” Janus remarked. 
“Well, if you’re betraying me, I think you owe me that honor. Unrelated to beheading, for now,” Remus took a step back, scrutinizing them with narrowed eyes, “let me see this new garb. If you chose poorly, I will be sacrificing you to the Kraken.” Virgil snickered, but just shook his head when Roman sent him a questioning look. 
Remus was bestowing his prized opinion upon him before he could ask. “Jannie didn’t do half bad - you look like a rejected and vaguely homoerotic musketeer, granted, but that’s certainly your style.”
“...Thank you?”
“And you,” Remus continued as if he hadn’t spoken, scrutiny turning to smarm as soon as he shifted his attention to Logan, who focused once more intently on knotting and unknotting his tie. (Patton looked simultaneously disappointed and relieved to have not had his outfit reviewed.) “You look simply dashing, my love.” 
“Logan,” he corrected immediately. 
Remus’ smile didn’t falter, even as Roman gave him a you might not want to do that look, which he didn’t acknowledge. “You know,” he said, “I’m beginning to think ‘my love’ isn’t your fancy.” The captain tilted his head and studied Logan’s uninterested stature, the way he tugged at the knot in his tie without sparing a glance to Remus. Roman saw Patton and Janus share a look; Janus just shook his head wearily. “You prefer something more classic, darling?”
“Remus,” Virgil warned. 
“Or perhaps something exotic - mon trésor,” another once over, far slower, and Roman saw Logan tug harder at the knot, “or mon râleur? Or maybe-” 
“Frankly,” Logan huffed, still without looking up from his tie, “I’d rather be skewered in a sword fight than have you refer to me as anything more or less than my actual name.” 
Remus went quiet. For a split second, Roman thought maybe some clouds had parted, that Remus had finally got the hint and would at last decide to hold back; but as Roman looked up to snicker at him, he saw the all-too-familiar glint of a horrible idea in his brother’s eyes. 
Before Roman could issue a warning, Remus had drawn his sword - straight to Logan’s throat it went, and Remus lifted the blade and forced the ex-steward’s chin up, a smirk on his lips as Logan blinked at him. “Care to prove that?” 
Patton and Roman both took in a sharp breath; Roman heard Virgil let out a low whistle beside him. 
Roman’s mom, on her good days - the days when she let Remus and Roman sit by her feet on the throne, when she weaved stories of the countryside and simple life and a freedom outside the castle, when she indulged the tenderness so often hidden from their view - used to tell him that he was fiery. He was passionate, she said, and impetuous, and bright, and she could just see that flame in his eyes when the moment was hot. 
Well, if Roman had fire in his eyes, Logan had a supernova, and it was about to explode. 
Logan leaned back, away from the blade under his chin, and stood swiftly, letting his tie drop to the open seat between Patton and Roman. Patton opened his mouth to say something - probably wait or stop - but Logan just grabbed Remus’ sword from the captain’s hand and walked to the middle of the ship, leveling his gaze at Remus in silent, unfazed challenge. The other crewmates lingering around the deck went dead silent as Remus started to smile. 
“Well,” he said, eyes sparkling, “someone’s more fun than I thought.” 
He waved a hand to the side without taking his eyes off Logan - a random crewmate rushed to him and offered his sword, taking a wide step back when Remus looked down and took a moment to examine the blade. Logan’s stare didn’t waver when Remus made his way to stand opposite to him. 
Janus clicked his tongue. “Bit impulsive, isn’t he.”
“No,” Patton said, brow knit as Logan gripped the cutlass carefully, deliberately, and raised his chin. “He really isn’t.” 
“Trained in swordfighting, are we now?” Remus grinned, tossing the sword’s hilt betweens his hands for a moment, getting used to the different grip. A few crewmates near the edge of the ship gave strained laughs that seemed to spur Remus on as he winked. “Or just fired up?”  
“Are we fighting,” Logan shot back without hesitation, “or are you willing to get impaled while you run your mouth?”
Remus just brightened, raising his eyebrows. “Alright, alright, we can start.” He settled into a starting position, knees slightly bent and the ends of his coat brushed behind him as he smirked. “Now, I won’t go easy, but rest assured, I’ll try not to scratch that pretty face of y-”
Roman nearly jumped at the first clash of blades - Logan moved much quicker than he remembered from their sparring sessions, and Remus barely had a second to bring his sword up to block the attack, raising his blade mid-sentence to cover his face just as Logan brought his down. The sound of metal against metal rang sharp in Roman’s ears as the captain’s face dropped, then lit up all over again, his eyes flashing. 
Remus leapt a step back, readjusting his grip. He swept his blade downward as Logan stepped forward - Remus hadn’t lied, aiming low to avoid Logan’s face, but they were simple swings to counter, and counter them Logan did with ease. He didn’t offer such a kind attack, either - his movements were direct, thrust forward with little flair or delay, and even as Remus ducked or countered or attacked, Logan pushed onward. With every move Remus made, Logan was ready with two of his own. 
Roman knew Logan wouldn’t hurt Remus, when it came down to it. He’d never had a taste for violence. Remus, though… his favor had always been for chaos, and even if this fight was petty and provocative (as were most things Remus engaged in), Roman couldn’t be sure how far he would go just to prove a point. 
Another crash of metal to metal, and Roman refocused on the scene before him - crewmates scattered from their spots as the pair dueled across the deck, nearing the mast with every step. Roman realized with a start as he watched that Logan wasn’t just quicker than he remembered, he was better, light on his feet and smooth in his swings; he was longlegged and nimble and an extraordinarily odd sight to see across from Remus, heavy handed and bold. 
Remus swung wildly - Roman wasn’t familiar enough with a cutlass to know the fighting style, but he thought again how much Remus favored chaos, and he had the inexplicable feeling Remus used it now as his own technique, difficult to counter when one’s mind was as calculated and proper as Logan’s. Roman’s mother had called him fiery so long ago; he easily saw the same fire in Remus’ eyes as he fought in his erratic, somehow effective way. 
But fire, as it turned out, died remarkably quickly.  
It took one misstep - a stumble back to avoid the mast, a little scuffle of his boots - for Remus’ incendiary swings to falter, and it was not a misstep Logan overlooked. Before Roman could blink, Logan locked his sword on Remus’ and twisted in a wide circle, and Remus’ cutlass went flying from his grip. Logan barely had to kick for Remus to fall back against the deck, wide eyed and empty handed. 
The entire deck fell silent once more as they stared at the scene before them - a flushed ex-steward with his boot to their captain’s chest, and the captain, defenseless and defeated with his own stolen blade pressed to his throat. 
“Holy shit,” Virgil hissed from beside Roman. A quick glance to his left saw Patton’s petrified stare and Janus’ brilliant grin - mixed signals on whether or not Logan was about to get thrown overboard.  
Remus’ gaze flicked down to the cutlass beneath his chin, and Roman could see him swallow from across the deck. For a moment, the only sound was the captain catching his breath…
And then, slowly, he smiled. 
“Well,” he breathed, meeting Logan’s eyes like he was gazing at something divine. “Logan it is.” 
The entire crew let out an audible breath as Logan quirked an eyebrow and dropped the blade from Remus’ throat, stepping back to let him stand. Remus hauled himself up, still halfway staring at Logan, and brushed off his coat. Logan held out the sword in his hand - Roman had almost forgotten it was Remus’ in the first place - and the captain took it, careful to let Logan pull away before their hands met. (Roman couldn’t help but wonder if they would have gotten along back in Unindra, had Remus ever truly met Logan; maybe he would have provided a rational thought or two to Remus’ impulsive whims. They would have been an interesting duo in the halls of the palace. He supposed later was better than never.)
“Well, that was the most entertaining thing I’ve seen in weeks,” Janus drawled, still grinning from ear to ear.
“That was amazing, Lo!” Patton beamed as Logan made his way back to his spot on the bench, his head high in the air, barely holding back a victorious smile. “We’ve only been here a few days and you’ve already won your first pirate duel! You’re like a real pirate now-”
“You’re all technically real pirates - winning a duel just makes you a better one.” 
Janus snickered again as Remus stood before them, hands on his hips. “Saying that because you’ve won them before, Rem? Your ego need stroking?” 
“I’m giving credit where it’s due,” Remus said, feigning offense with a hand to his chest. When he looked to Logan, though, the guise dropped to something simpler, something almost… thoughtful. Roman shared a look with Patton. “Egos and stroking aside,” he said, and Roman’s surprise dropped to an eyeroll, “that was impressive. A steward, huh?”
“I needed to be a polymath of sorts,” Logan said smoothly. 
“I can tell. Next town we stop in, remind me to get you a sword,” Remus remarked, and Logan raised his eyebrows. “We could always use skills like yours in a real battle.” 
His eyes lit up a second later, something devilish in the sparkle, and he felt around the inside pockets of his coat like he was searching for a treasure, til at last he seemed to find what he was looking for and said, “I almost forgot to give you this!” 
He pulled a small leather journal from his coat, dark blue and embossed with a single constellation of the cover. Logan’s eyes went wide as Remus held it out to him. 
The steward took it gently, holding it like it was a delicate artifact, and glanced between it and the captain, eyebrows furrowed. “Is this from the booth?” Remus nodded proudly. “You didn’t have to- did you steal this?”
Remus shrugged, pride still glowing on his face. “I nabbed it in the town.” Before Logan could ask any more questions or protest, the captain said easily, placatingly, “Don’t think too hard about it, Logan - just consider it a victory gift.” 
He smiled, winked, and turned on his heel to head to the helm, leaving a confused but pleasantly surprised Logan in his wake. 
“Oh, he’s got it bad,” Roman snickered. 
“Well,” Janus hummed, raising an eyebrow as Logan elbowed Roman in the arm and Roman held back another laugh, “Remus is being almost sweet, so something must be wrong in the universe. Beware in the coming days, I suppose.” 
Roman grinned, and even as Virgil complained about the darker storm clouds still rolling in and Janus jinxing the ship, the way Patton broke in with bright encouragements, the way Logan held his new journal to his chest and watched the others talk with raised eyebrows and a hint of a smile, the way Janus and Virgil bantered around them as if they’d known each other for far longer than days… Roman felt something bright inside him, something that rose above the ache in his side and the fog in his mind. 
He looked to Remus at the helm, heard his belligerent laugh as a crewmate called something up to him. And he felt that part of him that had recoiled for three years start to unfurl.
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katnissmellarkkk · 3 years
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Okayyyy here comes the next chapter ! Number .... lemme look. Okay, number six! 🥳🥳🥳
And yes, my thoughts as usual will be a messy, very Everlark-biased and full of typos. Letsss gooooo 🥰🥰🥰
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Is this the first time Katniss and Peeta have been to their floor or is this just the most opportune time to explain and introduce the Tribute Center living quarters?
Also why are they called tributes anyway? That word suddenly seems weird to me after nine years... 🤔🤔🤔
“I've ridden the elevator a couple of times in the Justice Building back in District 12. Once to receive the medal for my father's death and then yesterday to say my final goodbyes to my friends and family” .... 😶😶 so only good memories and connotations to elevators then, huh?
“The walls of this elevator are made of crystal so that you can watch the people on the ground floor shrink to ants as you shoot up into the air.” My mind is just imagining the elevator in Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone’s Spider-Man movies 🤗.
“It's exhilarating and I'm tempted to ask Effie Trinket if we can ride it again, but somehow that seems childish” this is so cute and innocent omg. Katniss, like I said in my last chapter blog, still has some childlike innocence left in her 🥺🥺🥺. I’m a sad.
Also excuse the unnecessary extra gif use but 🤭🤭🤭
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Oh wow, so Haymitch hasn’t been around since they were on the train? No wonder neither Katniss nor Peeta fled they could trust him for basically the entirety of the first book. 😐😐😐
You know it’s bad when Effie being around feels like a blessing to Katniss. Girl has more restraint than me, I’d have ripped off this woman’s janky wig by now without remorse. 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️
Effie acts like they’re her purebred show dogs. I know I know how is this news, that’s a blatant fact. The movies really softened her up tho for the general audience. And I bleed the movies and books together more than I should 😔😔😔
Well at least she’s made herself useful, trying to get Everlark sponsors ... even if it’s ultimately to benefit herself above anyone else .... 😤
Effie calling Twelve barbaric while she’s preparing them for the slaughter isn’t even ironic it’s like literally just brainless. Johanna probably had the nickname floating around for a lot of people before she officially knighted Katniss with it 😭
“Everyone has their reservations, naturally. You being from the coal district.” Is this how they refer to Twelve? So basically if a district makes a better item, it’s a more worthy one in the Capitol’s eyes? So essentially, if District Eight made like diamonds or pearls or whatever then it would be more worthy? So are the districts assigned their numbers (one, two, three, four, etc) based on their order of importance to the Capitol’s lifestyle? I always thought it was based on their distance in relation to the Capitol? Okay so I didn’t really pay much attention to these facts previously when I read these books ok look away I’m an idiot
Omg 😭😭😭😭 Effie is such an idiot. But the coal turns to pearls thing is my favorite line from her only because it serves as the cutest inside joke when Peeta makes a callback to it in Catching Fire and Finnick is just like “why are these two teenagers so stupid who did I ally with? 🥵😳🥵😳🥵”
“I wonder if the people she's been plugging us to all day either know or care.” After reading Songbirds and Snakes, I’m sure they don’t have a clue, boo. 😑😑😑😑 although not everyone was an idiot back then ... maybe Snow is putting lead in the drinking water?
“But don't worry, I'll get him to the table at gunpoint if necessary.” I know she’s trying to help and I know we say this kind of thing today, but considering this is two kids she’s well aware will be heading into a death match this is just bad wording I know surprise surprise 🙄🙄🙄😬😬😬😬
“Although lacking in many departments, Effie Trinket has a certain determination I have to admire.” Katniss really does see the best in people. What’s sad, y’all, is I think Katniss unconsciously really tries to like people and that’s why she has her guard up so high. Because the softer you are, the easier people will step all over you. Terrible phrasing here, Samantha, I’m so sorry to any of my readers ... okay now that sounded arrogant, implying I have readers 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤣😅🤣😅🤣😅
“My quarters are larger than our entire house back home.” Omg? I mean, yes, I knew this already obviously no duh but like also. Just the fact that three people live in a space smaller than a bedroom and bathroom arena is saddy sad sad. Also do they have indoor plumbing in the Seam or is their backyards just full of—okay, I’ll see myself out. 😶🤭😅🙃
“The shower alone has a panel with more than a hundred options you can choose regulating water temperature, pressure, soaps, shampoos, scents, oils, and massaging sponges.” I’m just imagining a Spongebob scene ngl.
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I’m sorry there’s so many gifs this time around it’s probably taking us out of the reading headspace I’ll never do it again 😩😩😩😩 I talk like I have a class of people listening to me 🤭🤭🤭
“Instead of struggling with the knots in my wet hair, I merely place my hand on a box that sends a current through my scalp, untangling, parting, and drying my hair almost instantly” I need this someone invent this NOW my brush is yanking out my hair 😔😩
“I program the closet for an outfit to my taste.” ‘Yes, Alexa, I’d like a hunting jacket, some boots and a green shirt. Yes, it can be brown.’
“You need only whisper a type of food from a gigantic menu into a mouthpiece and it appears, hot and steamy, before you in less than a minute.” I like this idea because it means that Peeta could order hot choccy to comfort Katniss after her nightmares in Catching Fire from the comfort of her their own bed. 🤗🤗🤗 also I want this for myself. The bad people are giving my greedy self ideas look away everyone 😬
“I walk around the room eating goose liver and puffy bread until there's a knock on the door.” 🤢🤢🤢🤢 Of everything you could have chosen, child, this is what you decided on? Someone help my girl and her rotten tastebuds now.
“Effie's calling me to dinner. Good. I'm starving.” Baby, you were just eating. She’s so nutritionally messed up. 😔😔😔
Katniss trying wine 🥳🥳🥳 she’s so funny, trying to find a way to improve the taste 😅. She’ll make a good taste tester for her baker husband one day.
Hahahaha Katniss not liking the feeling and judging Haymitch for always being tipsy. Also this is sad because she ends up addicted to morphling later one which is far worse than a little wine.
I’m glad to know Baked Alaska survived the apocalypse 😅🥳
Katniss just constantly trying to decipher the recipe of every meal and how to recreate it reads cute on a surface level but it’s actually so tragic because everything to this girl is based around food. Like even more than is typically noticed. They really should have given a hint at this in the first movie. Good thing she marries a man who can always keep her full.
I’m just forever side-eyeing you, Gare Bear.
That’s Gary Ross for the confused kids in the back.
Why does Katniss yelling mid-sentence, “oh! I know you!” add to her innocence? 🥺 it’s because she was overwhelmed by all the food and new luxuries she’d never even been able to imagine ... and also this is pre her first games so she’s still got some childhood left in her 😩😔
I wonder how Lavinia felt seeing Katniss volunteer and knowing she’d be her Avox? I wonder if she, like Cinna, somehow volunteered to be her Avox?
I mean ... talk about convenient placement that this specific girl was assigned to Katniss’ district—oh wait, y’all, I just caught myself. She’s from Twelve. She was assigned to Twelve’s tributes because she’s from there, duh. I’m such an airhead omg just call me Effie.
Don’t you actually dare.
“When I look back, the four adults are watching me like hawks.” Meanwhile, Peeta is just like 😬😬😬 eating his dinner.
Actually, ngl, this could be such a reach and it probably is but like maybe Peeta sensed a confrontation coming and, because of his implied upbringing, he naturally becomes silent or makes himself invisible when trouble starts looking like it’s gonna arise. 🥺🥺🥺 I don’t know why I say these things I’m just hurting my own feelings but ya know the drill. I thought it so I said it.
Why is Effie yelling at Katniss for saying she knows the Avox girl like omg overreaction much? And I know, the sky is blue 🙄🙄🙄 she’s prejudiced against basically everyone, I know, I know
Rip her wig off, Katty Deen 🤗🤗🤗
Oh I stupidly forgot that Avoxes are supposedly known by everyone to be traitors or criminals. So I suppose this isn’t Effie’s worst offense but I’m keeping a tally anyways
Katniss is blaming her stuttering on the wine but my girl just has social anxiety 😔😔😔
Peeta coming in with a save 😭😭😭 he’s already trying saving his girl 🤧
Alsoooo the unspoken friendship, the covering for the other and teaming up against the adults, is still riding high and going strong here 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 look away, y’all, the shipper comments are coming in strong
Also why is this the first real interaction with Peeta in this chapter yet? My baby needs more page-time 🤭🤭🤭
“Delly Cartwright is a pasty-faced, lumpy girl with yellowish hair who looks about as much like our server as a beetle does a butterfly.” Now why did Katniss just tear Delly to shreds for no reason at all 😭😭😭 this was a surprise assault on the poor girl 🙃🙃🙃🙃
“She may also be the friendliest person on the planet - she smiles constantly at everybody in school, even me.” Okay not to tie absolutely everything back to Peeta ... but to tie absolutely everything back to Peeta ... this description of poor, sweet Delly is actually indicative of Peeta’s character? Since Delly, we find out in Mockingjay, is Peeta’s childhood best friend, her personality being this sunny, kind, good-natured person tells us Peeta has always probably been somewhat like her and perhaps not as much like the other town kids Katniss implies to be stuck up or snooty. Maybe Katniss is just shady and deflects onto others 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️.
Also the fact that she gives this like ... mean description of Delly but saw Peeta as popular, even though surely Delly and Peeta spent time at school together, implies further that Katniss did indeed harbor a secret crush on Peeta even before the reaping. A very mild comparison of his on her though, of course 😅😅😅
“It must be the hair” “something about the eyes too” their piggybacking on the other’s comments really is just chiefs kiss 😘🤗🥰��� FYI I know the saying is chefs kiss but I made the typo once a long time ago and decided to add it forever to my brand 🤗🙃🥳
Also though this Everlark interaction is reminiscent of when two kids get caught by their teacher goofing off in class and covering for each other 🥰 only it’s a lot more deadly stakes
“A few of the other couples make a nice impression, but none of them can hold a candle to us.” She’s so modest 🤧🤧🤧 her narration here and during the Tribute Parade just has the vibes of ... well .... sorry in advance
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Haymitch’s comment “Just the perfect touch of rebellion. Very nice” leads me to think he and Cinna and maybe Portia were always in cahoots about the rebellion even before Katniss and Peeta came along and well ... lit their match on fire 🥁🤗🤣🤭
Katniss is like “rebellion??? Rebellion where??? What’s that you old people speak of???” And yet, girlfriend goes out to the woods and hunts illegally every day of her life 🤣🤣🤣🤣.
“But when I remember the other couples, standing stiffly apart, never touching or acknowledging each other, as if their fellow tribute did not exist” too lazy too look it up but there’s a quote from Ballad about Lucy Gray and Jessup being distinguished by their visible friendship too that set them apart from the other tributes.
Either Suzanne thought of drawing a nice parallel showing what a failed Everlark attempt looks like, because I firmly stand by the fact that without their real feelings behind their act, even Katniss’ unconscious ones, they wouldn’t have pulled it off, or Suzzie just reused her own content. I prefer the former but I think it’s probably the latter 🤭🤭🤭
“Now go get some sleep while the grown-ups talk." I know Haymitch is being facetious here but this quote reminded me of the fact that the movies would have hit differently if they’d cast actual sixteen year olds in the roles.
“When we get to my door, he leans against the frame, not blocking my entrance exactly but insisting I pay attention to him.” This is such a flirty, high school boy pose, you cannot convince me otherwise 😭😭😭
Also I definitely feel like Peeta is getting more and more confident here because he’s oblivious to Katniss’ inner monologue as much as she is his actually we all are his sadly and he probably thinks she’s starting to like him 🤧🤧🤧
“So, Delly Cartwright. Imagine finding her lookalike here." 🤣 He honestly cracks me up idk why this line isn’t even special or that great. He’s just so ... subtly nosy / funny. Which brings me to that quote from Mockingjay where Katniss talks about his sense of humor because it’s one of the things she loves most about him 😭😭😭
But he’s like, “I can keep a secret, Katniss, tell me who that tongueless chick is to you 😬”
Katniss stop talking about debts, friends cover for the other all the time 🙄🙄 I know it’s in her character stop yelling at a fish for swimming that’s not a real phrase I know that too
Okay first of all, they’re about to share a secret 🥰🥰🥰🥰. My shipper goggles are on tight and obstructing my vision. I know this and am proud 😬🥳🤗
And secondly, “Maybe sharing a confidence will actually make him believe I see him as a friend.” Hey, butthead, you two are already friends. She doesn’t even recognize that the girl who constantly sits with her, talks to her, eats with her and trades with her is her friend either though, I’m shocked she calls Gale her friend
Does Peeta get to know Cinna too? I don’t think so but it’s mentioned now a couple times in this chapter alone that Peeta has interacted with Cinna. Katniss never interacts or has a conversation with Portia.... then again, is that even surprising? Katniss isn’t ... what you would call ... social. Hashtag relatable.
Awww, they’re communicating so effectively together 🥰😭🤧🥳
Also rooftops belong to Everlark only 😍😊😉 I mean, seriously, Katniss never goes up on a rooftop with anyone else. Besides Haymitch in the first movie but we ignore.
“Electricity in District 12 comes and goes, usually we only have it a few hours a day.” Earlier she said the Seam didn’t often have electricity, in particular, so either she’s not specifying her section of the district anymore or Suzanne is backtracking.
“But here there would be no shortage. Ever.” I’ve had two power outages recently so clearly the Capitol isn’t based on us currently today then 😐😐 I’m just joking ok
“I asked Cinna why they let us up here. Weren't they worried that some of the tributes might decide to jump right over the side?” .... boyfriend, where does your mind go sometimes? Peeta’s darker than we realize, y’all 🤭🤭🙃🙃
“He holds out his hand into seemingly empty space. There's a sharp zap and he jerks it back” between this and Catching Fire, Peeta is addicted to getting shocked by forcefields 🤧🤧🤧
“I wonder if we're supposed to be up here now, so late and alone.” If this was a romantic drama or comedy, that line would have meant something a lot more fun 😒😔😬😉😏
“On the other side of the dome, they've built a garden with flower beds and potted trees.” Is this meant to resemble Snow’s grandmother’s garden???? Like he had them put a garden there to like ... put a piece of his Grandma’am in the games? Idk this made zero sense it was a stupid thought
Two people in a garden at night, with wind chimes, sounds romantic in any other context. 🥺🥺
Ummm does everyone in the entire district know Katniss and her father used to hunt together?
Oh nevermind, Lavinia is not from District Twelve. My bad, guys. I should go up and edit my previous thoughts but that’s a lot of work. 😅😅😅
Katniss, stop being so hard on yourself. You and Gale were kids. 😣😣
Ummm, Katniss for a girl always complimenting Peeta’s storyteller, you’re pretty good at painting a picture yourself...
Peeta noticing she’s shivering 🥰🥺
He gives her ... his jacket 😭😭😭😭 such a romantic troupe Samantha, get over it there’s literally children dying
Oh wow, Lavinia was from the Capitol originally. Hmm, it is sus now that she got District Twelve this particular year.
But also 🤧🤧🤧 “he secures a button at my neck.”
His hands .... are .... often .... at her .... neck .... 😶😬 .... look away, y’all
Oh wow, Katniss is over here thinking, “who’d leave the Capitol if they were from here???” And Peeta’s like instantly, loudly, without hesitating, “well I would 🙋🏼‍♂️”
Hot take, y’all ready? Peeta was a bigger rebel than Katniss from the start. At least internally.
Awww, Peeta is so jealous 😭😭😭😭 and kind of nosy 🤭🤭🤭
Katniss : “me and Gale are not related” Peeta : “😬🙃😭😩😶”
“I'd set out to tell her I was sorry about dinner. [...] my apology runs much deeper. [...] I let the Capitol kill the boy and mutilate her without lifting a finger. Just like I was watching the Games.” I feel like this is actually a good comparison though, because of you grew up in a society where you have to watch kids die, your whole entire life you’ve watched it in a glorified television show, you would be really desensitized to it...
“You don't forget the face of the person who was your last hope.” Here she’s talking about Lavinia but it applies to Peeta too. Katniss was Lavinia’s last hope and she feels like she let her down but Peeta was her last hope once and he came through. And, as she said in chapter one, she’ll never forget him for it. And for other things too. Later on. 😏
Of course my last bullet point was focused on Everlark 🤣 is anyone surprised you shouldn’t be we all knew who this post was written by right? 😅
And once again, if too made through this marathon, congratulations 🥳🥳🥳🥳 maybe next chapter I’ll talk less not likely though so don’t count on it 😅
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straykats · 4 years
Text
this isn’t out of sympathy, not anymore
pairing: kim seungmin x reader
wordcount: 3.4k
warnings: none
a/n: requested! originally an enemies to lovers request, but idk if this ending count as exactly “lovers” yet? this is so long overdue i’m so sorry. and the title sucks too rip :(
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On a Sunday morning, one would normally enjoy the pleasures of sleeping in; of the sounds of birds outside and morning traffic below. They would wake up late, have what could be considered a brunch, and sit down with a book and a cup of coffee
But that wasn’t how things were for you.
The clattering of pots and pans could be heard, followed by the familiar ticking of the stove.
“Damn it.” With a groan, you roll to the other side and try to block out the sound with a pillow, your mind chasing for a dream long lost. You soon come to the acceptance that it was futile to try and fall back asleep. 
This was not the ideal start to the week.
It had been just over a week since Seungmin moved into the flat with you, and it had proven to be an odd sort of hell, fueled by the mutual dislike for one another. 
“What are you doing? It’s barely 9am.” You poke your head out of the doorway, squinting at the sun reflecting off the white walls of the apartment. 
Seungmin turns at the sound of your voice - something about him strikes you as odd - and glares. “Making breakfast, obviously.”
Any worry immediately leaves your system. “Jeesh, I was just asking!” He ticked you off - you didn’t even know why. It had always been like that since you first met him in school. “No need to glare.”
“Idiot, you were the one glaring at me first.” He rolls his eyes and turns back around. 
Oh, he had mistaken your sensitivity to the light as disgust. He wasn’t too wrong, but it hadn’t been your intention. “Yeah, well you can blame the sun. Can’t you do that-” You jut your chin out in his general direction. “-later?”
“Some of us have a lot of work to do, y/n. We don’t all get to sleep in.”
You deadpan. “Seungmin, you do this every morning.”
He throws his hands up, and you spare a thought for how funny it’d be if the spatula flew from his hand. “I’m a morning person. Sorry.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
The two of you barely speak another word to each other for the rest of the day. Maybe it was because Seungmin was locked in his room the entire time, but you weren’t too sure that anything would be different if he hadn’t been locked in his room. 
When you had put up the advertisement looking for a flatmate (for rent was not cheap), there had been only a few people who had been interested. It was weeks into the academic year, and most people were already settled. Of the four who had contacted you, you had chosen Seungmin, who unfortunately but surprisingly seemed the most tolerable. In hindsight, you thought, it might have been because you felt more comfortable with him. Yeah, you guys didn’t get along, but you knew him, and the people around him. It was a safe choice.
Come dinner time, and you had still not seen Seungmin. Thinking about it… had he even had lunch?
You were aware that he had some major music assignment coming up, worth almost half his grade. He had even bothered to ask you about his composition, to listen to a rough audio file and see how it was, and you had tried to be civil and rational in your answers. Nothing too rude (it wasn’t a bad composition; being rude to Seungmin just came as a habit) but nothing too nice. You’d like to think that your feedback had been objective. 
Dinner was nothing fancy - it rarely ever was. You had before you a bowl of rice and eggs, your laptop playing your favourite show. As if he had sensed your earlier thoughts about him, Seungmin comes out of his room. You glance at him - his hair is tousled, brows furrowed and glasses askew.
“So, were you sleeping or working all day?” 
When he gives you the weakest glare in the history of glares, you realise what it was that had struck you as strange that morning. His complexion was paler than usual, and you noticed the redness high on his cheeks now. 
Stupidly, you dismiss it. Seungmin was old enough to take care of himself. Right?
Nope.
You jump when something shatters against the kitchen floor.
“What are you- Seungmin, what the hell?!”
On the floor, patterned shards of what had once been a cup were splayed out. The boy in question stood with a hand against the counter and another against his head. 
“Sorry, dizzy spell,” he murmurs. You could barely hear him, for he spoke so quietly. 
“Just- Just go lay down or something. I’ll clean up.”
The shattering had made you hyper-aware of Seungmin - the way he carried himself now, the way his eyes were barely open, his brows furrowed and hands shaking slightly. It was like the sound had cleared your head or slapped you in the face, telling you to wake up and pay attention!!!
“Oh, so you aren’t a complete-” He cuts off abruptly with a groan, holding his head. 
“Well at least I’m not stupid enough to force myself to work until i’m… like that.” You eye him with raised brows, but your spirits weren’t really onboard with teasing him. Watching him as he leaves, you start to worry about how unwell he actually was - surely a night’s rest would help, right? 
It takes you only a few minutes to clean up the shards - thankfully, the cup had broken into decently sized pieces. There were only a few small ones laying around, but they were quickly collected with a dustpan. 
In a stroke of sympathy, you go to Seungmin’s room. He was normally very on-top of his health, and as much as you hated to admit it, it scared you to see him like this. 
But when you get to his door, you hesitate. You couldn’t really go barging in, could you? Not that you were planning to be barbaric about it, or come in demanding answers or anything. Instead, you put your ear to the door. If he was still up, typing or scribbling away, you’d bust in and force him to rest.
Not that you cared too much. As his flatmate, it was probably your job to take him to the doctors - or the hospital - if something were to happen. You’d be the one dealing with the trouble and all, and it was easier to prevent it, right? 
The evening progresses into night, a sombre silence filling the flat. It must have been around midnight when you heard Seungmin’s door open. You froze in your bed, pausing the music playing through your earphones. He must be going to eat, you realise. He hadn’t eaten dinner and had instead gone straight to bed. 
Silently, you leave your bed and watch from your doorway as he peers into the fridge. The yellow light from the fridge was the only thing that lit up the kitchen.
“You need to rest, not mess up both your sleep schedule and your meal times.”
“Has anyone ever told you that sick people need to eat too?” He reaches into the fridge and pulls out two eggs. It isn’t until he takes out a pan that you move in. 
“You like them scrambled, right?” Taking the eggs from his hand, you crack the eggs into the pan. “Go make your ramyun.”
“Why… are you cooking my eggs for me? And how do you know I like my eggs scrambled?”
“Scrambled for ramyun, sunny side up for rice.” You shoot him a grin. “You’re a simple being, Kim Seungmin.”
You stayed in the kitchen while Seungmin ate. You busied yourself with washing the pan, and then getting yourself a glass of water. These tasks were completed rather quickly, and you were left to lean awkwardly against the counter while Seungmin finished his meal. Would it be strange to go to your room and get your phone? Probably.
Seungmin speaks up, breaking the awkward tension. “You can go back to sleep, you know. I’ll be fine.” 
“I wasn’t sleeping before.” 
“You should have been.”
“I could say the same back to you.” 
Seungmin looks at you over his noodles but doesn’t reply.
“Well, go to sleep when you’re done eating. Don’t stay up late. I will call Hyunjin and make him tie you to the bed if I need to.”
You turn and make your way to your room, trying not to laugh at Seungmin choking on his noodles. 
“You don’t even have his number!”
-
The phrase “disappointed but not surprised” seemed very applicable to the scene you saw at two in the morning. It snapped you right out of your half-asleep state.
“This idiot-”
Seungmin was slumped over in his chair, his head resting on his arm. One of his earphones dangling off the side of the table, the other end plugged into his laptop. The bowl of ramyun sat to the side, chopsticks carefully balanced on top.
Making your way closer, you shake him awake gently. It was almost shocking how warm his arm was, even through his clothes - you were a little cold, for it was the middle of the night. 
“Seungmin. Seungmin, wake up.” Upon hearing a disgruntled sound come from him, you prod him again. “You’re an idiot, you know that? Why are you sleeping out here, and why did you start doing work again?!”
“Thought I could-” he clears his throat, eyes half open as he sits up. “Thought I could do some work while I ate… Must have fallen asleep.”
“No shit, genius.” You grab his laptop in one hand, being sure not to shut the lid incase you delete any of his work. Using your other, you shake his shoulder again. “Come on, you’re already unwell. Stop forcing your body.”
You walk a few steps towards his room before turning back. Seungmin was still in the chair, hunched back and arms dangling between his legs. His eyes were closed, head nodding as he tried to keep it up. 
With a defeated sigh, you put his laptop on his desk before coming back out for him. “Come on, up you get…”
You grab onto his arm and almost sigh at the warmth it radiates. Another hand was on his back to help guide him to his room.
It hits you as you pull the cover back on his bed that… well, you’d never been inside his room. Sure, you’ve stood at the door to bicker, but never had you gone inside. You hadn’t really ever had much physical contact with him either.
You make your escape with a mumble about getting medicine. He’s in his bed when you come back, laying straight and facing the ceiling like Snow White.
“Here, take these,” you say gently, bending down to help him up with one hand. You feel a bit bad, to have made him lay down only to get back up. Handing him the painkillers, you watch as he washes them down with a gulp of water. “Gosh, one minute we’re arguing and the next, I’m your mother…”
Handing you back the glass without a word, he slides back down under the covers. Having placed the glass down on his bedside table, you stay there for a while and look at the pictures he had hung on the wall. You recognised some people - Hyunjin, for one, and another boy with fox-like eyes that you had seen once or twice. You recognised some of the seniors in school too - the ones who had been in a band with Seungmin. 
At the sound of rustling, you look over to see that Seungmin had turned onto his side and was looking at you.
“Amazed that I have friends?”
“I- no, I never thought that you were a friendless loner. I just… I mean, I guess it’s my fault,” you admit sheepishly. “I just never really considered your social circle to seem so… wholesome?”
He laughs lightly, keeping his eyes on you. He looked tired, and his hair fell across his forehead. Cute, you thought, and then quickly snap your head around to look at the photos again. 
Cute? Well, you had never considered him ugly before. He wasn’t - he was fairly good looking, and it used to annoy you when the kids at school wouldn’t stop talking about the honey-vocaled Seungmin… But he did have a good voice, you has to admit. And he was fairly smart and very passionate about music. But he was annoying. Yes, he was annoying. Too annoying. He wakes up too early, you could never deal with that.
It doesn’t take long for him to speak up again.
“You know, I read a story once.” 
You hesitate, having only just settled your mind. Was this an invitation to engage in conversation? To stay? Or just an attempt at breaking the awkward silence? Instead of replying, you take a seat on the floor, leaning against the bedside table. Seungmin takes the silence as a sign to continue. 
“There was a prince, and he was sick, and the servant girl never left his side even though he had been a cruel prince. She tended to him night after night, prepared his bath, changed his sweat-drenched sheets.” you crinkle your nose at that, and Seungmin laughs. “But when he was better, everything went back to normal.”
“Did he ever thank her?”
Seungmin shook his head. “He was a prince, afterall. No need for him to thank a servant for doing what they were supposed to do.” He sees you tense. “Don’t worry, y/n, I’m no prince, and you’re no servant.”
“Then you better do your own dishes tomorrow morning,” you joke.
“Ah, no sympathy for the sick?” He pouts weakly. His eyes are closed and his voice is softer. You become conscious of your movements. Subtle, nothing too quick or too loud.
The room is dimly lit. The cool moonlight came from the window, and on the opposite end came the kitchen light, slipping past the door left ajar.
Seungmin speaks up after a while of silence. “You know you can go, right? I don’t need your presence to bore me to sleep.”
You can’t help but let out a smile at his words - an effort to be himself, you realise, but there seemed no real annoyance behind the words. 
“Well, you might not need the boredom, but you need to sleep.”
“Touche.”
It takes a while, and you find yourself nodding in and out of sleep. When your head suddenly hits the edge of his mattress, you decide it was finally time to reutnr to your own room.
Your legs are numb, jumping with pins and needles, but you hobble out of Seungmin’s bedroom with only one look back at him, who was sleeping soundly.
-
It was strange to find yourself the first one awake. The flat seemed oddly empty, and you kind of missed the smell of fried eggs and cooked rice. You open the curtains in the main living area, letting sunlight flood into the flat. 
It was Monday. A new morning, a new week, a new beginning.
You look around the flat - things really have changed since Seungmin moved in. Signs of his occupance were everywhere - a guitar pick laying on the coffee table, a hoodie on the couch. His bowl of ramyun, unwashed and left in the sink.
Ah, right. Last night. 
Butterflies seemed trapped inside your body as you walked towards Seungmin’s room. Why were you nervous? Surem you don’t normally go to his room to wake him up, but he was sick, right? It was just…  a friendly gesture, right?
Friendly. The word struck an odd chord within you. 
Knocking tentatively on his door with one hand, you lean in close.
“Seungmin, are you up?”
There’s a hum, muffled by the wooden door. You turn the knob and peer in. It’s dark, sunlight peeking out from behind a closed curtain. You can see Seungmin, curled up under his blanket. It was pulled up to his chin. 
“How’re you feeling?”
He lets out a positive sounding hum. You don’t push him further. 
“Well, I’m going to make breakfast… do you want any?”
Seungmin sits up, his eyes still closed. You watch as he takes a deep breath. “Yes, please.” 
As he starts to pull the covers off himself, you close the door.
Quickly scanning the fridge, you take out some fish and green leaves. It doesn’t take long to cook up a simple meal of pan fried fish and boiled greens. Instant rice is out fresh from the microwave and you’re doing the dishes when Seungmin emerges from his room.
“What happened to me having to do my own dishes?” He asks, as he takes a seat behind the counter. He eyes the fish and boiled vegetables, taking in a deep breath.
“Sympathy for the sick, or something like that,” you say with a shrug. “Half of these were from cooking just then, anyways.”
“Smells good.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” 
You glance over at Seungmin as he turns his eyes to the clock. He did look better - his cheeks were still a little flushed, but he seemed better. He was moving better too, not as sluggish as yesterday. He looked like he had attempted to brush down his hair, but a tuft at the back still stood up. You hide your smile, turning back to the dishes.
“Hey, thanks, by the way.”
“Hmm?”
“For last night. Taking care of me.”
With warm cheeks, you stack the last of the dishes aside to dry. “Again, sympathy for the sick or whatever.”
“Y/n.” 
Turning at your name, you find him looking very intently at you. 
“I’m serious. Thank you.”
You gulp, and the only thing that calms you a little is the realisation that his cheeks aren’t pink from feeling unwell anymore. 
“Yeah, I know,” you say softly. 
He looks up at you, and you awkwardly fiddle with the towel hanging off the cupboard doors under the sink. It was undeniable that something had changed after last night - the dyanmic between the two of you were different now, and you weren’t too sure how you felt about it.
“Okay. Cool. Can I eat?”
The question catches you off guard, strangely, but you nod and take out plates. “I- I was going to just fry an egg for you, but i decided you probably need a change after last night.” part of your brain was panicking - but why? “We had fish, so I thought hey, why not, right? This probably isn’t much of a better meal, but-”
“It looks great, y/n. Thanks.” He takes a bite and chews thoughtfully. “By the way, you don’t…” Seungmin clears his throat. “Do you actually have Hyunjin’s number?”
You give him a sweet smile, clasping your hands behind your back. “You’ll never know, will you?”
You don’t, but the slight twitch of his eye and subtle pout are worth it.
Shaking his head, he looks back at his food. He seemed very concentrated on separating a single grain of rice. “I’m just asking, jeesh. It’s an innocent question.”
“Innocent. Right. Anyways, I need to get ready to go. Class starts in a bit.”
You make your way to your room and change, gathering laptop and notebooks. When you exit, Seungmin’s at the sink, washing his plate.
“Don’t strain yourself while I’m gone, okay? Actually, just sleep while I’m gone,” you say from the hallway as you put your shoes on. 
Seungmin’s head pops around the corner suddenly, and you see him take a deep breath.
“What time do you finish?”
“... 12:30, why?”
Having finished with your shoes, you sling your bag over your shoulder.
“Do you- Can I-” He cuts off and swallows thickly. “Lunch? Can I treat you to lunch?”
Your eyes widen, and you freeze.
“As a thank you, obviously,” he adds, but it’s only half convincing.
“I told you, it’s fine. Sympathy for the sick, right?” You joke, trying to ease your nerves.
He manages a small quirk of the lips. “C’mon, let me treat you. And don’t say yes out of sympathy.”
Well, things were different now, right?
“Sure, why not.”
You could see his shoulder relax, a strand of hair falling into his face as he exhales. “Great. I’ll… I’ll meet you at the front of your building then?”
When you give him a nod, you can see him trying to keep in a smile.
“See you later, then.” He pops back behind the wall, and you hear from the kitchen, “Have a good day!”
Letting out a small laugh, you ignore the buzz in your veins as you open the door.
“It’s a date, Kim Seungmin!”
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best-of-basslines · 7 months
Text
Round 1 - Part 1
Hysteria - Silly Love Songs
Dear Prudence - Disorder
Kick in the Eye - Good Times
Dancing Shoes - Double Dare
Everybody Dance - My Girl
Aces High - Better Strangers
Tank! - Killing in the Name
Transmissions - Achilles Come Down
King of Sex - Walk on the Wild Side
Koufukuron (Etsuraku-hen) - Orion
Never Say Never - The Chain
For Your Love - The Distance
A Certain Romance - I Will
Fake Tales of San Francisco - Plug in Baby
Superstition - The Hollow Men
Ain’t it Fun - Caught in a Mosh
I Will Survive - Ramble On
The Lovecats - Got the Life
Lovesong - Dazed and Confused
Bulls on Parade - Neat Neat Neat
Barbarism Begins at Home - Sober Up
Dragon Attack - Baba O’Riley
Under Pressure - I Want You (She’s so Heavy)
Seven Nation Army - Rio
Peace Sells - Don’t Tell Dave
Another One Bites the Dust - I Feel Voxish
Swan Lake (Death Disco) - Psycho Killer
Feel Good Inc. - Cowboys from Hell
Don’t Leave Me This Way - Bitches Brew
It’s My Life - Age of Consent
Lady Madonna - Getting in Tune
Roundabout - Hey Bulldog
Round 1 - Part 2
Too Shy - Nothing to Say
Message in a Bottle - Lovely Day
Lacquer Head - Space Truckin’
Dead Man’s Party - Give Up the Funk
I Want You Back - What Becomes of the Brokenhearted
Go it Alone - I’m Coming Out
Money - La Grase de las Capitales
That’s the Bag I’m In - Deantown
Motorbike - Low Rider
Secret Message - Midnight Lady
Girls and Boys - Spoonful
College Girls - Cavern
Express Yourself - Good Vibrations
Ando Meio Desligado - Material Girl
Paranoid Android - Rock On
Chameleon - Dirty Little Girl
Billie Jean - (I’m a) Road Runner
Have You Ever Seen the Rain? - Town Called Malice
Meltdown - Snow (Hey Oh)
My Name is Mud - Give it Away {Tie}
I Got The… - Thank You (Falettinme be Mice Elf Again)
Hair - Daughter
Ain’t No Mountain High Enough - New World Man
Noudouteki - Walk the Dinosaur
You Can’t Hurry Love - Jaws
Thriller - Cannonball
I Heard it through the Grapevine - White Lines (Don’t Do It)
The Joker - Cupid’s Victim
Rooster - Nookie
Higher Ground - Blister in the Sun
Let’s Groove - Black Sunshine
15 Step - Is it Luck?
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slusheeduck · 4 years
Text
Binding Resolution
[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3]
Chapter 4
              The walk to the village is a decent one, but much easier than the last time you went to the manor. After all, there’s no ice blocks, no spirit boxes, no broken bridge to vault over; you and the Prince just walk down a pretty path, carefully tying off the Dwellers’ letters as you go. (You do take a moment to look for Snatcher’s future house, but all you see is a giant tree. You wonder how he manages to hollow it if he’s a ghost, then wonder if it’ll ever actually need to be hollowed if you manage to save him. Not…that you’re 100% sure you will, but it pays to be positive.)
              “Penny for your thoughts, kiddo?” the Prince asks abruptly, managing to tie off his last letter and tuck it under his arm. “Do you even have pennies where you’re from?”
              You stare at him. You’ve never heard of a “penny” in your entire life.
              “I didn’t think so. Besides, you’ve got an awfully expressive face anyway, so I bet I can guess.” He holds out his hand, offering to take the letter you’ve been struggling with for the past few minutes. “You’re wondering why I’m with Vanessa when she gets…like that.”
              You stay quiet, waiting for him to continue. You’re sure he will; he’s not Snatcher, but he’s still Snatcher (if that makes sense? You’re not sure it does, and you’re glad you don’t have to explain it.) And, of course, he does.
              “Well, clearly I’m staying for the inevitable glut of power I’ll have when I’m crowned king.” You roll your eyes, and he smiles. “Good, you’re catching on. But yeah, that’s a joke. I don’t even want to be king over the whole land or anything; I’m more than happy with my forest. Here, let’s switch. You hold the finished letters, I tie the rest.” You swap loads; you can barely see over all the letters stacked in your arms.
As you struggle to keep a hold of the letters, you freeze as you feel your hat plucked from your head. The last time this happened in Subcon, you had exploding potions and minions chucked at you. Just as your heart starts to race, though, you feel something else plopped down on your head—much smaller and a little heavier. Carefully, you reach up one hand to touch it—metal. Did the Prince put his crown on you? You look up, and judging by the way he’s adjusting your hat on his head, you think he did.
              “What? I’m a sucker for a good hat. And I thought every little girl dreams of being a princess, which you are so long as you wear that.”
              You roll your eyes again.
              “Not into princesses, huh? Well, too bad. As long as you’re on my turf, what I say goes. And I say I get to wear your hat until we finish delivering the mail.”
              You smirk and tap the crown on your head. The Prince stops, then sighs.
              “I did say you were a princess with that on, didn’t I? And I could concede that and give you your hat back. Or I could remind you that you have stubby little arms that are currently full of an entire village’s worth of letters, and you wouldn’t be able to get it back if you tried.”
              Unfortunately, he has a point. You can’t reach your umbrella with all these letters in your arms, and dropping them might get them squished. And that’d just be mean. You sigh, adjusting the crown. Yeah, he’s definitely still Snatcher without being Snatcher.
              Except this one, weirdly, feels like an actual friend, not just a contractually obliged one.
              “Annnyway,” he says, tying off the last letter and tossing it at the first house you pass, “you want to know about me and Vanessa, and there’s no more hats to steal, so I guess I gotta quit stalling. Just chuck the letters at the houses you see, by the way, they’ll get them.”
You nod and start tossing the letters; you’ve done this before, so your aim is amazing.
“The truth is…I wasn’t her first pick. I wasn’t even a pick, as far as I know. She had some…childhood sweetheart or something. They were engaged, and then he just up and disappeared. Left her completely devastated. But the future queen has to get married, right? So her mom arranges a back-up with the next highest ranking unmarried man in the land, and that’s me.” He chuckles as he tosses a letter at a nearby Dweller, waving as they thank him profusely. “Let me tell ya, kiddo, nothing’s weirder than coming home from school for the summer and finding out you have a fiancée. Anyway, I expected for us to be one of those usual arranged marriage situations—you don’t actually care that much about each other, but you get along well enough to run a country. But then we met and…” He looks up at the sky, letting out a long breath. “I can’t explain it. Meeting her eyes was like…like someone had just plugged a socket into me. The whole world lit up. And then we got to talking and…look, you just…you caught her at a really bad time. Because she is so loving and headstrong and passionate. And…part of the problem is that her passion gets a little…intense.”
              You frown. Again, you’re no relationship expert, but freaking out over having someone love bacon seems a little more than “intense.” The Prince quickly shakes his head.
              “Look, when things are good between us, they are so, so good. She’s absolutely who I want to spend the rest of my life with. I just…wish she was a little less jealous.” He tosses another letter to a Dweller, smiling as they hop up and down in excitement. “And thinking about what’ll happen to the forest when it’s in her control…” He shakes his head. “Jeez, what am I doing? You don’t want to hear about all this relationship junk, you’re just a kid.”
              You’re about to tell him that actually you are very interested in this particular relationship junk, because it might give you an idea of how to keep things from going sour. But instead, the Prince crouches down beside you and points up to a tree with a little door at the very top.
              “Instead, let’s talk about that last letter you got. I bet you your hat that you can’t get it all the way up there.”
              You should turn the conversation back around. But…that’d mean turning down a challenge, and you’re very competitive. You’ll bring it up after you get your hat back.
              You scramble up the tree easy as anything—in fact, it’s a little shorter than it is in the present, so you don’t even need a grappling hook. You get right on up to the door and gently slip the letter through the mail slot. You turn around to give the Prince the smuggest face you can.
              You really, really need to start paying more attention in Subcon. Because that turn shifts your footing just a tad, and the branch your standing on isn’t quite as thick as you think it is. And down you go.
              “Kid!”
              Lucky for you, you still have your backpack, and falling from high places is something you’re very used to now. Whipping out your umbrella and opening it is second nature by this point, and the last fourth of your fall is spent floating down gently before lightly landing on your feet in front of the Prince, who looks like he’s the one who had a thirty-foot fall. He lets out a nervous laugh and shakes his head.
              “Real…real efficient way of getting down, kid. Also real efficient way of giving the people around you heart attacks.”
              As he regains his composure, you hold out your hand in a silent demand for your hat.
              “What? Oh, the bet.” He shakes his head, then takes off the hat. He pauses, looking it over before smirking. “You know, private bets aren’t legally binding. So technically, I don’t have to give you anything.” As you open your mouth to argue, he chuckles and holds out your hat. “Lucky for you, I’m a man of my word. And besides, if you can look death right in the eyes like that, you deserve it.”
              You take the hat with a relieved sigh, popping it back on your head as the Prince picks his crown up from the ground. He dusts it off, then nods back up toward the path.
              “Well, our work’s done here, so it’s time to head back, I’d say.” He grins, tapping your hat before leading the way back to the path. “We make a pretty good team, don’t we, kiddo?”
              You smile as you follow him. Before your time jump, you would have never said that. Ever! But now…well, now, you kinda do make a good team, huh?
              All the more reason to keep him from becoming Snatcher in the future.
~
              The walk back to the Manor is a leisurely one, and the Prince chatters the whole way about where you could spend the night now that Vanessa’s back in her room.
              “We have a parlor with a pool table…maybe we could pop a mattress on it? You’re tiny enough that it should be pretty comfortable. Or maybe a little cot in the piano room? Oh, don’t worry, no one in the house plays, so it’s not like you’ll get woken up by it or anything. Ugh, I wanted to renovate the dungeon into a guest room—oh, yeah, we have a dungeon. Of course I don’t use it, that’s barbaric.—but the budget this year just was not having it. I guess if you don’t mind sleeping in a cell it’d be doable…”
              You’re not really listening. Instead, you’re considering your options. You still have that Time Piece in your bag, so you really can go forward at any time. And you have to, eventually—and you have to clean up the Time Rifts, and putting it off will just mean you have to do it later. But…at your core, you’re a fixer. You fixed up Rumbi. You fixed up your ship. Some birds even yelled at you about fixing the Bird Awards! So something in you just won’t let you leave until you fix whatever goes wrong here.
              But who knows how long it could be before then? Staying an extra couple days is doable, but what if they don’t break up for years? No one told you what could happen if someone chooses to stay in the past.
              You look up at the Prince, still chattering. Still alive and happy and genuinely nice, even with his weird, Snatcher-y sense of humor.
              Could you really live with yourself if you let him become what he does in the future? He’ll lose everything, and now you’ll lose a friend.
              You can’t do that. You have to stay.
              “Oh! The attic! I’m sure we have some old bed things up there, and it’s actually pretty cozy once you dust a little. When we get inside, I’ll…” The Prince suddenly trails off and slows his pace. You look up at him curiously, then up ahead.
              The manor’s in view, and standing on the porch is Queen Vanessa. Her arms are crossed, her entire body is rigid, and the air seems to have a chill in it as she stares hard at the two of you, obviously furious. The Prince holds out his hand, stopping you as he watches her. His face is composed, but his dark eyes are darting around at nothing in particular; it looks like he’s strategizing.
              The air is horribly tense. You think both of them are waiting for the other to move first, so for several minutes, they simply stand and stare at each other across the courtyard. Finally, the Prince inhales deeply, then lets out a long, slow breath. He takes a smooth step in front of you, and you can hear the put-on smile in his voice as he says, “Darling!”
              “You were supposed to be here when I woke up.”
              You shiver. This isn’t like her explosion at brunch. Her voice is quiet, full of rage but so quiet. It nearly sounds the way she did as she chased you through the manor.
              “I’m sorry, my love, I honestly thought you’d sleep longer. We had a little bit of a snafu ourselves, but we…”
              “You BROKE your PROMISE.”
              The Prince’s show of cheeriness drops, and he starts to step back before glancing back to see you. He swallows, then lifts his head.
              “I know. And I am so sorry, Vanessa. I’ll do what I can to make it up to you.”
              You peek around the Prince’s legs to look at Vanessa. For one moment, her eyes lock onto you. They’re still blue, but there’s so much rage and hatred in them that you’re just as frightened as you were when you met the blood red ones in the manor. It takes every bit of bravery you have not to immediately hide behind him again, but you don’t want her to think you’re afraid of her. Even if you really, really are.
              Finally, her gaze shifts back to the Prince’s. Then, through her teeth, she hisses, “Talk to me in the parlor. Alone.”
              He nods. “Of course, my princess.” He stays put as she turns and sweeps back inside, then lets out a sigh as he hits his forehead with the heel of his hand.
              “Stupid. I should know she never sleeps well after a trip,” he whispers to himself, then sighs before crouching down beside you. “Listen, kid, when we get inside, why don’t you go look for a room you like? The parlor…isn’t the best anyway.” He stands up and taps on your hat. “And put this in a safe place. Never know when someone’s gonna snatch it off ya.”
              The two of you walk into the manor. You can’t help but notice the Prince looks a little sick, but he quickly shakes it off and puts on a composed face. You wonder if that’s a royal thing or a grown-up thing, and you kind of hope it’s the first one, because you can’t ever imagine pretending like nothing’s wrong when clearly there’s a lot wrong. He glances down, noticing you’re still there.
              “Go on, kid, shoo. I’ll catch up with you in a bit.”
              You nod, starting to slowly walk toward the stairs. When you reach the bottom one, he finally goes into the parlor and shuts the door. You, of course, run back to the door as quickly as possible. The keyhole’s too small to see out of, but if you press your ear to it, you can hear everything crystal clear.
              “You lied to me.”
              “I didn’t lie, my love, it was a mistake.”
              “And how many more mistakes am I going to have to endure, hm? Am I going to have to listen to excuses like this when we’re married? Am I going to…going to have to constantly worry about where you are?”
              “Vanessa, I told you where I was. If you were really worried, you could have come out to the village with the two of us.”
              Vanessa muttered something you couldn’t quite make out, but given the noise the Prince makes, it can’t be all that good.
              “You cannot be serious.”
              “I am.”
              “For God’s sake, Vanessa, she’s a child.”
              “She has ruined this entire surprise I had for you! WE were supposed to spend the day together! WE are the ones getting married, but you’ve spent every waking moment with HER instead of ME!”
              “She’s lost!” the Prince snaps. “You should have seen her when she showed up, the poor thing could barely walk. She still hasn’t said a word this whole time she’s been here.” He huffs. “I’m just trying to get her back home.”
              “Oh, so playing mailman with her today was getting her home? Setting up brunch for her was getting her home?”
              “My god, am I not allowed to distract a little girl from getting scared?”
              “Not like this!” Vanessa shrieks. She takes a few deep breaths, then adds in a very low voice, “I want her gone. Immediately.”
              “Don’t be ridiculous, Vanessa.”
              “I am very serious. I want her out of here as quickly as possible, and I don’t want you seeing her ever again.”
              You feel your heart start to race. This is bad. This is really, horribly bad. If the Prince kicks you out, then it’s all over—he’s going to end up as Snatcher. Maybe he’ll say no. Maybe he’ll break up with her! Anything to buy you a little more time to fix things.
              You hear him let out an irritated sigh. “No. This is stupid. I love you, Vanessa, and I’m sorry that your surprise hasn’t worked out the way you planned. I’m sorry I broke my promise, and I will do anything to make it up to you. But getting this worked up over a lost little girl…it’s a new low for you.”
              You let out a sigh of relief. He did it, he stood up to her. You have some extra time.
              But then you hear a giggle. A not very nice sounding one.
              “Ohhh, my prince, my prince. You remember what happened with my last fiancé?”
              “I’m not like him. I’ll stay.”
              “He said the same thing. And then he disappeared.”
              “I’m not like him, Vanessa.”
              “You’ve heard the rumors, haven’t you? About how he might have disappeared. About how it might not have been his choice to be hardly more than a memory now?”
              This time, the Prince’s voice falters as he repeats, “I-I’ll stay.”
              “Oh, yes you will. I know you will, my princey-wincy.” Her voice lowers to a whisper, so quiet you have to mash your entire face against the door to hear. “But don’t test me like this. Rumors are just rumors, but I’d hate for you to find out if any of it was true.”
              There’s a very, very long silence that follows. You hear a small “smack,” like a kiss on the cheek, and Vanessa sweetly asks, “Well?”
               Another silence. Then, the Prince takes a long, shaking breath. “I’ll get her out of here. Right away.”
              “There we go. That’s all I ask for, my love. And now we’ll have the whole night to ourselves, just the two of us!”
              You lean against the door, feeling your heart sink in your chest. This is so much worse than you thought. Is fixing it even possible at this point?
              No. You can still do this. Anything is fixable.
              It has to be. [Chapter 5]
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Job Classes I made for the two timelines I created for The Depths of Time like an impulsive dummy
Since @sunneflower said they were interested.
I decided to include the Elsword job paths these were inspired by. This is mostly spoiler free!! Mostly because I kept everything purposefully vague since, while I did solidify the premises for these two timelines, I don't have a lot of the actual STORY fleshed out other than the beginning and tidbits here and there.
Anyway, on to the job paths (gonna do a cut because this post is actually really long)
Destruction Timeline – a timeline where the El Search Party was defeated and only a handful of them remain (though I haven't included what happens to who all that much), fighting a losing guerilla war purely to ensure their survival, unable to help the people they swore to protect.
Elsword (based on Immortal): Execution Knight/Blade Reaper/Hel’s Emissary
Elsword decided some people didn’t deserve a second chance and that he would dirty his own hands to ensure they never caused trouble for the world again, honing his sword skills until he could wield two smaller blades with deadly accuracy.
Aisha (based on Aether Sage): Storm Magician/Hurricane Eye/Vengeance Seeker
Aisha channeled her power into creating storms of unmatched magnitude to easily take care of the hoards the El Search Party found themselves facing off against but after escaping capture with Ara, she started to push her friends away, becoming cold and distant.
Rena (Based on Anemos): Assault Ranger/Cyclone Striker/Maelstrom
Rena found her abilities in combat to not be enough to protect her friends and asked the wind spirits to help her be faster and stronger so she could become the tip of the spear so to speak, plowing through even the strongest enemies with power to spare.
Raven (Based on Rage Hearts): Scale Taker/Dragon Fist/Wyrm Soul
When Raven came across a dragon, he decided to attempt harnessing that power to protect his friends and created highly durable armor from a dragon’s scales and refining his sword to be as sharp as dragon claws. He redesigned his Nasod arm to be able to harness flames equivalent to a dragon’s breath.
Eve (Based on Code: Ultimate & Code: Esencia): Code: Revival/Code: Assimilation/Code: Ragnorak
Eve focused on the revival of her people but she realized that humans and Nasods could never peacefully coexist. Rather than despair, she came up with a rather unorthodox solution to the problem and pursued it with single-minded determination and vigor.
Elesis (Based on Bloody Queen): Judgement Knight/Purgatory Blade/Vindicator
If Elsword is the executioner then Elesis is the judge and jury. Determined to right the wrongs of the world, she makes sure those who hurt others cannot escape punishment, never doubting the righteousness of her actions, with an unpredictable but precise fighting style.
Chung (Based on Centurion & Comet Crusader): Shield Guardian/Phalanx Cannon/Victory Herald
With the hordes facing Hamel and then his friends, Chung focused on strengthening his defense as far as he could push it. He created a phalanx-like set of shields he commands at will, as well as providing friends/allies with support with his long-range attacks and plethora of buff abilities.
Add (Based on Dominator): Splinter Tracer/Void Watcher/Fenrir’s Master (as in the wolf from Norse mythology)
Early on in his research into time travel, Add discovered the existence of alternate timelines and created portals that allowed him to send drones into those other timelines to monitor them. With the El Search Party, he’s a wild card who’s only known loyalty is to himself yet he has made himself an invaluable ally despite their inability to trust him.
Ara (Based on Shakti): Little Wisp/Holy Revenant/Spirit Harbinger
Ara partnered with Eun to better defend her friends and find her brother but when she woke up in Lu and Ciel’s fortress having escaped capture, Eun was gone. Left on her own in a way she never thought she would be, she desperately tries to hold out hope that everything will be okay.
Lu (Based on Innocent (Ishtar)): Final Ruler/Eternal Shadow/Genesis (Rapture)
Lu set to regaining her power and through an unexpected twist of events succeeded much sooner than she had anticipated and is now the sole ruler of the demon realm.
Ciel (Based on Catastrophe (Abysser)): Final Ruler/Eternal Shadow/Genesis (Entropy)
Ciel takes being Lu’s shadow literally and becomes her left hand, performing tasks most would stay far away from to ensure their success and survival.
Ain (Based on Richter & Herrscher): Lofty: Warrior/Donner (means thunder) Essence/Blitzkrieg
Ain doesn't manage to catch himself in time and falls to the Dark El. He becomes a demonic deity similar to the demon god Scar was trying to summon in Lanox.
Rose (Based on Minerva & Prime Operator): Novice Hacker/Signal Echo/Cyber Wraith
Rose arrives to Elrios and finds herself in conflict with Nasods. She manages to capture some models mostly intact and reverse engineers ways to get into their program and shut them down without causing any damage to their physical structure. That way she can repurpose them.
Laby (Based on Eternity Winner & Nisha Labyrinth): Shadow Child/Twilight Mist/Midnight Specter
In an effort to protect herself from the world, Laby learns how to fight. Because people scare her, she often finds herself in the shadows, cast off to the side, and she becomes comfortable there. She learns to use people's tendency to overlook her to her advantage.
-
Nasod Timeline – a timeline where Nasod technology is a common fascination among the people of Elrios, almost like mythology in the modern world, and many have at least dabbled their toes in Nasod technology, and some are able to utilize it (though not to the same extent as in the past).
Elsword (Based on Knight Emperor): Wandering Knight/Honorable Sellsword/Gladiolus
While Elsword did advertise his services as a swordsman so he could get out and see more of the world he loves so much, he still insists on doing the right thing, upholding the values of a knight just like his sister would.
Aisha (Based on Aether Sage & Metamorphy): Saber Magician/Elemental Duelist/Arcane Fencer
When it was still just her, Elsword, and Rena, Aisha witnessed a duel where one party wielded a rapier and, despite thinking of swords as barbaric beforehand, she became fascinated by the precise and quick movements that were so similar to how she directed her magic.
Rena (Based on Twilight): Ambush Ranger/Spectral Hunter/Supreme Predator
With the El Search Party having been ambushed too many times during their journeys for Rena’s liking, she decides to beat their enemies at their own game. She perfects her abilities and becomes better than any enemy ever could be.
Raven (Based on Furious Blade): Arsenal Taker/Weapon Master/Gilgamesh
Raven refused to lose any of his new friends and in their battles, he found his sword skills to not be enough. Not wanting to use his Nasod arm, he began carrying multiple weapons on his person and soon it grew until he was carrying an arsenal all his own that he was more than proficient with.
Eve (Based on Code: Sariel & Code: Esencia): Code: Constellation/Code: Pulsar/Code: Andromeda
Eve woke up in a lab instead of her capsule but she escaped and found herself in the wilderness, completely alone, as the only Nasod remaining in Elrios. She wandered, without much of a destination. On her journey, she was inspired by the powerful beauty of the stars in the sky and set her mind to finding a way to mimic that in her abilities using condensed El energy.
Elesis (Based on Empire Sword & Flame Lord): Wing Knight/Flame Empress/Nike (as in the goddess of victory)
While perfecting her sword and fire skills, Elesis came across designs for wings made from Nasod technology and wondered if she could turn the wings into blades that could be directed. The only problem being, while she was decent at following directions, she was unlikely to ever understand the calculations she was plugging into the apparatus, let alone actually make her own additions to it but luckily when she met up with the El Search Party they found someone more than willing to help her add blades to her set of wings.
Chung (Based on Centurion & Fatal Phantom): War Guardian/Iron Battalion/Unlimited Armory
Not wanting to get trapped should he find himself in a situation where he couldn’t use his cannon, Chung set to mastering any weapon that was similar enough that he could learn it in the short amount of time he had. With some help, he developed a piece of Nasod technology that would allow him to summon to his aid any weapon he wanted as long as it was connected to his device and he set to creating his own artillery that he could summon to any location.
Add (Based on Doom Bringer): Empty Tracer/Nasod Mimic/White Star
Not much is known about Add beyond his inability to speak and that he can create particle projections that mimic the abilities of any Nasod he has come into contact with.
Ara (Based on Apsara & Shakti): Little Lance/Ouroboros/Amphisbaena
Ara decided one spear was not enough and, with Eun’s help, developed a unique fighting style using two spears and created her own secret arts: Phoenix Secret Arts and Serpent Secret Arts. She honed her new fighting style until she was faster and deadlier than ever before.
Lu (Based on Catastrophe (Timoria) & Diangelion (Iblis)): Shepherd’s Crook/Steeled Ka/Osiris (Lotus)
Lu wanted to work as a team with Ciel, but it was difficult coming up with something that worked the way she wanted it to with their clashing fighting styles where she preferred to get in their enemies’ faces and he preferred fighting from a distance. She stubbornly continued to work with Ciel until the two of them became unstoppable.
Ciel (Based on Innocent (Chevalier)): Shepherd’s Crook/Steeled Ka/Osiris (Duat)
Determined to protect Lu, Ciel decided it was best to attack from range, picking off the targets she missed in her sweeps but Lu wanted to work more as an equal force than leader and support. So, Ciel worked with her to adjust their fighting styles to be more in line with the team dynamic she wanted.
Ain (Based on Bluhen & Herrscher): Lofty: Reflection/Doppelganger/Ersatz (means replacement)
Ain was never drawn out of the rift by Elsword’s presence so a copy of him was created to fulfill his purpose. Ain is alone, searching for the El, when he comes across Eve and the two of them team up to achieve their individual goals.
Rose: Metal Heart/Optimus/Prime Operator
I decided this route worked REALLY well with the overall vibe I was going for for this timeline, so I decided to slap it in instead of making a whole new Rose route (making everyone else was hard enough).
Laby (Based on Radiant Soul & Eternity Winner): Wonder Child/Sparkle Champion/Heracles
Laby wants to help people and see all the world has to offer her but she also wants to protect everything she's come to hold dear. Not wanting to lose another friend, Laby asks Gaia to teach her to fight and teams up with Nisha to do that.
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