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#so it really is the choice between pirating them and straight up *not reading*
not-wholly-unheroic · 8 months
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Thoughts on Off to Neverland: 70 Years of Disney’s Peter Pan by Jim Korkis
Now that I have finished reading Off to Neverland, I’d like to share some thoughts on it—the good, the bad, and the ugly. Let’s start with the negatives and get that out of the way, shall we?
As mentioned in a previous post, the book starts out sounding rather clunky and more like a list of facts than an actual book. However, once we move past the original history of Peter Pan as imagined by J.M. Barrie and start getting into the history of Disney Peter Pan material specifically, it starts to improve. Korkis was, after all, considered a Disney historian, so I guess it’s no real surprise that he writes more excitedly about that side of things. That said, there are still some things that bugged me and made me feel like the book was slapped together in a hurry. I noticed several spelling errors, missing words, and/or weird punctuation throughout the book and while that doesn’t take away from the info itself, it’s rather distracting and unprofessional for a published book. It’s also troubling that Korkis has neither a bibliography nor footnotes in his book to indicate exactly where he got his information from. Some of it was, undoubtedly, from interviews he conducted himself, but even then, there is a way that you are supposed to write up interviews as source material for professional writing…and Korkis just…doesn’t for some reason. So if I want to look up more info on, say, a specific fact…I can’t really do that because I have no proof of an original source. Lastly, some of the “facts” he includes—and I’m being nitpicky here but the guy is supposed to be a Disney historian so I think I’m allowed to be—are straight-up WRONG. For example, in the Disney film, Hook is said to have a harpsichord in his cabin (it’s not; it’s a piano—listen to a harpsichord…it doesn’t sound like that) and a cutlass as his weapon of choice (cutlasses are curved on one side; his blade is definitely more akin to a rapier or a fencing sword). Smee is also said to be the first mate in the original film, and while it’s true that in some later Disney media like Jake and the Neverland Pirates has portrayed Smee as a first mate, the original film does not. Heck, the man has a bosun’s whistle that he uses to pipe up the crew and specifically mentions the first mate as one of the people spreading rumors about Pan having banished Tink during the scene where he’s pouring hot water on Hook’s feet. So clearly he isn’t the first mate, and you don’t have to be a Disney expert to know that. You just have to actually watch the film. The author also says that Cubby is referred to as Curly in the sequel, Return to Neverland…which, again, just listen to the film for yourself and you’ll quickly learn that isn’t true. Oh, and did I mention that he essentially defends the racist portrayal of the “Indians” in the original film? Yeah, so…there’s that.
On a more positive note, I did learn some interesting new things about Peter Pan in the Disneyverse (though, of course, since there is no bibliography, I can’t prove any of them…). So, here are a few fun facts for you fellow Peter Pan nerds, as promised.
(1) There were a LOT of changes made to the original script and storyline between its initial inception and the final version of the film we have today. A few things that were considered but ultimately not used include the following:
Wendy was originally going to be the one who wanted to go to Skull Rock while Peter warned it was too dangerous to go there, only giving in when she finally dared him to take them there.
In one version, Nana came with the kids to Neverland while John stayed home, being “too grown up” for Neverland.
There were several different suggested starting points for the film. One would have had an adult Wendy as narrator reading the story to her daughter, Jane. Another started with Peter’s backstory similar to his origins in The Little White Bird. In either this or another version with a backstory for Pan, we would have seen Tink as the queen of the fairies who, on being presented with the foundling baby Peter, decided that he should be raised by the fairies to protect them against the pirates and other threats and, in exchange, gave him the power of flight.
One version of the story that would have followed much more closely to Barrie’s storyline had Hook creeping down part of the way into Hangman’s Tree to poison Peter but getting stuck and weeping frustrated tears that land in Peter’s “medicine.” These tears, of course, turned out to be poison from the red of his eye as in the 2003 film. This version also would have featured Hook voluntarily jumping ship and being nabbed by a silent crocodile whose clock had run down.
Disney debated for a long time whether to make Peter Pan a live-action film, an animated film, or a hybrid of the two. In the case of the latter, Wendy and her brothers would have been live-action characters with Hook, Peter, and the other residents of Neverland as animated characters who sprung to life from Wendy’s storybook.
There was gonna be a fairy ball. And a scene with the fairies feeding the kids at a kind of banquet. Also a fairy jazz band. Yes, you read that right. Fairy. jazz. band.
(2) The very first Tink to fly over one of the Disney parks to head off the fireworks was a 70 year-old Hungarian woman of Jewish descent and former burlesque dancer. This lady, known as “Tiny” Kline, slid down a 784 ft long cable nearly 150 ft off the ground at speeds up to 30 mph nearly every night for three years…while fighting cancer.
(3) There was an earlier version of Return to Neverland titled Peter and Jane featuring Kathryn Beaumont reprising her role as Wendy and Corey Burton in both the roles of Hook and Smee. Most of the voice recording for this version was already complete when the directors decided to go a different direction with the film. Beaumont was ultimately replaced by Kath Soucie, and the role of Smee went to Jeff Bennett.
(4) Somewhere out there, a live-action reference model version of Return to Neverland exists, and I need it. I have no idea if any of the voice actors were used as models as in the original film, but either way, I really wish we had some way to access the recording, or at least stills.
(5) Apparently, the filmmakers’ reasoning for replacing the crocodile with the octopus was that they thought a toothy crocodile would be “too threatening” for younger members of the audience. That, and they wanted to come up with a new, creative way to torture Hook. (For some reason, Korkis seems to think that the octopus can’t see well because he views Hook and the crew as fish. This is another “fact” which I’m pretty sure is wrong. I always assumed the vision of the characters as fish was just to show that the octopus considered them all potential food, not an actual indication of the creature’s sight…but whatever.)
(6) And last but not least, I have to include Hans and Corey’s takes on Hook as a character because my thoughts on the book wouldn’t be complete without them. I’ve shared some of this before but it bears repeating.
Hans Conried:
“He is a much maligned character. If you read the lines with any sensibility at all, you must have an animus against Peter Pan who could fly, and took outrageous advantage of this one-armed man. Hook was a gentleman. Pan was not. His behavior was bad form.”
Corey Burton:
“He’s the nastiest of Disney’s comical villains. He’s conceited and bombastic and takes great relish in his evil and that makes him really fun to play. Captain Hook is so theatrical, like an old ham actor of the vaudeville and music hall days. It’s not that he really scares anyone because you can see right through all of his bluster. He’s really just scrambling for the recognition afforded Blackbeard and the other great pirates.”
I find it interesting that Burton, though his take on the character is more comedic than Conried’s, still has a rather sympathetic view of Hook—that his attempts at villainy are, in fact, so over-the-top precisely because they are meant to cover up a deep insecurity that he isn’t living up to what everyone expects him to be.
Overall, the book had some fun and interesting bits but wasn’t quite what I was hoping for. I’d love to send Korkis an email and ask him about some of the issues I had with the book and pick his brain. Unfortunately, he just passed away in July of 2023, so that’s no longer an option.
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been talking about my characters a lot more so i will make a thing now with their names and stories and stuff (adding and taking from this as the story changes/grows)
Kieran (he/him): He's a vampire and his curse is getting worse and corrupting his magic. His curse makes him no longer remember anything that he knew before he turned (besides basic knowledge about himself). His story is about relearning what family means and finding a way to change for the better and cure his curse.
Aidyn Forrest (she/her): Her family has always been well off, and she's been going to a school of magic for as long as she's known she had magic. She lived with her aunt when her mother passed, and Sylvia frequently visited her aunt after her shifts. Kieran is her best friend, and she wants to help him achieve his dreams even if it's not what she wants.
Sylvia Goldleaf (she/xe): She and xyr sister are fallen Windwraiths (winged creatures, not quite elves or fairies) who got separated during the fall. For all they know, the other could be dead. Sylvia appeared in a great healer's backyard and was given her new name then. Xe trained to be a healer like the one who saved her, and she did reach this goal, but the hospital xe worked at was very expensive and only accessible to the rich. She became a pirate to help people who truly matter to her, xyr crew.
Cliff (she/they): Cliff, an aquatic person, comes from the Finn Clan, a noble family of the sea (though her old family definitely doesn't want to see her again, unless she's behind bars). They were never allowed to make her own choices in life, and spent her free time reading about tales of great pirates. It was their dream to one day become a pirate and escape the reef.
Magma/Maggie (they/he): He was treated differently by most people in their old village because they are a mix between a Blazewing(fire fairy) and a Rainwalker(water fairy). He has extremely weak magic that takes the form of steam, so instead of using their magic he took up alchemy. He works together with Sylvia often, but because of the way they grew up, he thinks that his worth is only what he can create and offer.
Amaryllis/Amy Sunpetal (she/her): adding later
Aspen Sunpetal (She/they/it):adding later
Sparrow Sunpetal (he/him): adding later
Altair Seer/Guardian Seer (she/it):adding later
Also the 6 gods!! Luna Umbra (she/any) is the goddess of darkness, Solis Lux (she/any) is the goddess of light. Aestas (they/she) is the goddess of summer, Fols (they/them) is the god of spring, Mors (she/his/them) is the god of autumn, and Nix (she/they/it) is the goddess of winter
some extras that are from different stories (may add to this later)
Flame (she/her):
Ash (he/they):
Flicker (they/it):
Burn (he/him):
Spark (they/she/ze):
Ember (she/her):
the humans (different story, mostly unrelated)
Elliot/El (he/her/any): Her story is about how he escapes from a terrible situation at home. His story explores genderfluidity and being queer in general, as well as mental health.
Atlas (she/they): El's sister who helped him through a lot of her issues, also served as a way to better show how uncaring their mother is. (not going into details in this post, mother is just bad)
Quinn (they/he): His story is about finding people who they fit in with, who dont treat them badly. His story contrasts Elliot's, who is their best friend, but neither stories are happy.
Kai (he/it): will add later
Luke (he/him: will add later
June (she/her): June thinks she's just a straight ally because she's never felt romantic or sexual attraction to anyone, really. Her story is about self discovery, and the realization that she's aroace.
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sunfirekid · 1 year
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HEADCANONS
tagged by: @manaborn​​
tagging:  anyone interested!
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—    basics.
▸   is your muse tall/short/average?    Hiru’s 5′10 so he’d be a little above average height irl. In the One Piece world I think he’d probably be considered short given how tall people are. 
▸    are they okay with their height?    Sometimes he wonders what’d it be like to be taller but overall he’s happy with it because he feels his height suits him.
▸    what’s their hair like?   Very soft to the touch and unkept. Very curly when short and straightens out a bit once longer.
▸    do they spend a lot of time on their hair/grooming?    Not really when it comes to his hair. He typically just wakes up and go. When it comes to his other hygiene and grooming he takes whatever time needed to both take care of himself but also to be as approachable as possible.
▸    does your muse care about their appearance/what others think?   To a degree. Hiru’s goal in helping people in turn somewhat means he has to care that when people look at him they don’t immediately feel threatened even if he is a “heinous” criminal. However when it comes to what he wears or his personal style he just wants to look cool, which is why he shows off his scars because he thinks it’s a cool thing to do.
—    preferences.
▸    indoors or outdoors?   Outdoors
▸    rain or sunshine?    Sunshine (Pretty obvious I know lmao)
▸   forest or beach?  Forest. A forest provides more ground for exploring
▸    precious metals or gems?    Gems since in his mind gems work better as gifts over metals.
▸   flowers or perfumes?   Flowers, same reason as the gems.
▸   personality or appearance?    Personality. (Even if someone is drop dead gorgeous a bad personality immediately causes their attractiveness to take a hit)
▸    being alone or in a crowd?    If choosing between the two being alone since a crowd can leads to Marines being notified but Hiru enjoys spending his time with people he cares about more than both.
▸    order or anarchy?   Both. As his choice to become a pirate has shown, through his own form of anarchy he can bring order.
▸   painful truths or white lies?   Painful truths. Hiru doesn’t lie.
▸    science or magic?   Magic since it’s easier for him to understand over science.
▸    peace or conflict?    He prefers peace but isn’t adverse to starting conflict to get said peace.
▸   night or day?   Day (again another obvious one lol)
▸   dusk or dawn?    Dawn.
▸    warmth or cold?    Warmth.
▸    many acquaintances or a few close friends?    Hiru likes having a small close circle of friends but is also happy to make acquaintances as well, so a little of both.
▸    reading or playing a game?    Reading
—    questionnaire.
▸    what are some of your muse’s bad habits?    Hiru can be stubborn sometimes, he overthinks a lot, he can be impulsive and reckless and jump into things without thinking, and he always holds back in fights both to gauge how strong an opponent is but also to sometimes prolong the fight to enjoy it just a bit longer. Also he sometimes drinks straight out of the orange juice carton, but to be fair it is always out of a carton that’s specifically marked for him. 
▸    has your muse lost anyone close to them? how has it affected them?    Hiru hasn’t necessarily lost anyone, but he has seen how fucked up both the Marines and Pirates can be and it’s actually what set him on his path and in some cases has caused him to double down. Marines only caring for their own interests or following some whack sense of justice causing pain to civilians or people who don’t deserve it, and pirates using their freedom to do the same gives him the drive to continue on in his own pirating life using his freedom to stop anyone from using their power, authority, or status from bringing harm to innocent people. 
▸    what are some fond memories your muse has?  Some of the earliest fond memories he has are training with his father as he was growing up and visiting different Marine bases and meeting a fiery red head that was his age, helping his mom in her garden, and listening to pirating adventures in the tavern on his home island. Additionally every memory of his crew joining are near and dear to his heart, even the scar he got on his chest.  
▸   is it easy for your muse to kill?   No. Hiru has a rule to never ever kill. It stems back to a promise that he made back to his mother, but now it’s also something that he feels internally that if he is meant to be saving lives how can he take one. Additionally, sure there could be someone so heinous but killing them would mean that there could be someone in this world that would be sad that they’d never be able to see that person again.
▸   is your muse capable of trusting someone with their life?    Absolutely. He trusts his crew with his life and he trusts a few others as well like close friends or honorary crew members that come around every now and then.
▸    what’s your muse like when they’re in love?   Very observant, well more than usual I should say. Hiru already naturally tries to adapt to a person who’s around him being it being more playful or taking a step back and giving a person more space when they want it. When he’s in love he’d be more conscious of the little things that a partner may do, say, or show interest in and he would keep that mental note for things like gifts, conversation topics, or adventures. He’d let his partner know every chance he’d get how much they mean to him be it through words or actions since the path that he’s on could mean that he could die at any time so every last second is valuable to him. Lastly if he is in love, heaven forbid someone does anything to the person he loves. He may not be a killer, but that doesn’t mean he can’t fuck someone up within an inch of their life.
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calcliffbas · 2 years
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So, I know it’s probably been a while for you, but I was recently rereading your White Lotus Zuko series, and I noticed you mentioned being willing to elaborate on your reasons for sticking so close to canon. I’ll admit, the way you stuck close to the events of canon in basically every way was a source of some major frustration when I first read it, and even now, it’s something which unfortunately brings it from a 10/10 to a 9.5/10. Why did you choose to have Zuko’s different choices have ultimately no effect?
Ohhh yikes, I’ve been dreading this ask. The long and the short of it is under the cut:
The simple answer is that the White Lotus Zuko series only really came about because I'm a Zutara shipper who wanted to see what their relationship could have been like if Zuko was a good guy from the start. It really was that simple when I first began writing ‘No Reason You Can’t Do It’.
The longer answer is that I was still (am still?) a very new writer, really not all that confident in my ability to craft a plot and a narrative, and I was more interested in (and had more fun thinking about) the characters and their relationships than the plot. That’s what I liked most about writing Book 1 and Book 2, and one part of Book 3 I really enjoyed writing the climactic scene when Aang unlocks the Avatar State, because that’s when we see how much his friends have helped him on this particular take on his coming-of-age journey.
I could have had the story go differently, yes, but when I was writing this fanfic, I’d just left a job that I hated only to find myself in another job that I hated in the middle of a global pandemic, and I wanted to write something that brought me joy. And like I’ve said before, I didn’t want to write a canon-divergent series so much as a canon-adjacent series; I wrote the story for me, and I enjoyed the fact that sticking close to canon meant that I could try my hand at writing Azula, Mai and Ty Lee. Plus, I was able to bring in more Asian influences such as Zuko’s Japanese poetry or Iroh’s Korean proverbs, which was hands-down my favourite part of 'You Have To Stand Firm’.
I’m sorry to hear that you were frustrated by the way the series went, but I mean, if it’s canon-divergent AUs you want, I wouldn’t say Zuko’s choices had no effect. I wrote a 90k Zuko-centric prequel set in the 18 months between ‘Seventy-two to nil’ and ‘No Reason You Can’t Do It’, and I’m kind of fond of my Mai-centric spin-off, which was set up pretty nicely by the ripple effects of ‘You Have To Stand Firm’ and ‘Who Knows What Happens Next’.
Maybe once I’ve worked on some other stuff and real life slows down a bit, I might go back and write an alternate Book 3 where Zuko fights Azula in the Crystal Catacombs to allow Uncle, Katara and Aang to escape. When they get back to the Wani, Sokka and Suki are fully prepared to go back and break Zuko out. Just before they leave, Iroh hands Sokka a bag to give to Zuko. In full view of everyone, Sokka opens the bag and pulls out a Pai Sho set, a couple of boxes of ginseng, and a Blue Spirit mask. Annnnd that’s how Aang and Katara and the SWT warriors find out that Zuko’s the Blue Spirit. Great job, Sokka.
On the ship’s brig, Azula taunts Zuko by telling him that she’s heard rumours that pirates have sent a mercenary after the Avatar’s waterbender and the Blue Spirit after they sunk their ship. Once Sokka and Suki have broken Zuko out, they decide that it’s too dangerous to risk leading Azula straight back to the Wani, and instead decide to go across the Earth Kingdom as a distraction, a la Sokka and Zuko’s plan in Book 1. Whilst they’re looking for the Kyoshi Warriors, Combustion Man catches up to them - he’s after the Blue Spirit, and he thinks Sokka’s the waterbender!
Cue Aang learning the elements from Katara, Toph and Iroh, the older kids doing White Lotus things, and more ZK pining than ever. But would anyone read it after such a long hiatus? I probably wouldn’t.
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cinnonym · 3 years
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The Dark One’s Choice
As announced, I finally polished (and finished) my Dark One smut fic, sooo if you’re one of @swanqueensalad‘s horny followers (aren’t we all) or otherwise inclined to read the closest thing to smut I’ve ever written, here goes:
~5k
rating: m
mildly dubious consent, sub/dom hints, choking, restraints, power play, angst, canon-compliant
don’t like don’t read ^^
The great grandfather clock in the hallway shows half past 1 at night when Regina passes it, finally on her way to bed after a long day. Her thoughts have kept her alert until now, the risk of Emma, now as the Dark One, turning up at her doorstep to demand to have Henry too high to let her relax properly. And then there is the gaping hole in her memories, a condition she's familiar with but which still annoys her in no small measure. One moment the gates of Camelot swing open for her, the dagger pressing to her side in the warm promise of Emma's trust, then the next second she's flat on the floor of Granny's Diner, faced with Emma in full Dark One apparel, mercilessly glaring down at her. Accusing and dangerous and assuring to punish them all, though her cold eyes were on Regina only, sending a shiver down her spine that consisted of trepidation and arousal in equal measures.
Regina shudders just remembering the low purr of the Dark One's voice, the radiated dominance so different from the kind of nervous excitement that usually accompanies Emma's talks with Regina. Different, yes, but not necessarily worse, Regina thinks, the naughty admission painting an unexpected smirk on her lips, and she permits a silent chuckle before calling herself back to order. She mustn't enjoy nor underestimate the saviour's dark side. Quite the contrary, to save Emma from herself, and the rest of town from Emma, it is crucial that Regina stays alert and focuses on figuring out a way to get rid of darkness once and for all. So, no unnecessary risks. Constant vigilance.
Right on cue, the doorbell rings and startles Regina back into reality. She throws a glance at the clock. 1:40, not exactly a reasonable time for visitors, even in this tense situation. Besides, Snow, or David, and even the pirate, would have rather called to talk than walked through nightly Storybrooke with a new Dark One on the loose. No, Regina decides, it has to be Emma herself who's on her porch, now pressing the bell again.
Regina swears under her breath; if she doesn't put an end to this, Emma will wake up Henry. On the other hand, opening the door would violate the very set of rules she has just established. There's just no easy way out of this.
Emma ends up making the decision for her when suddenly greyish smoke forms right in front of Regina, vanishing to reveal the familiar frame of the saviour. Her lips set in a thin straight line, the green eyes as expressionless as earlier, she stands and looks at Regina. Just takes her in. Regina feels her skin starting to tingle when a flash of hunger crosses Emma's features, and she's suddenly all too aware of the red velvet dress she's still wearing, clinging to her curves.
"What are you doing here?" She asks when Emma still hasn't moved to talk after several seconds. Her voice is calm, only the slightest hitch in her throat betraying her racing heart. Emma is close, far too close, the aura of power that surrounds her enclosing Regina as well. She's always had a weakness for great wizardry she supposes, the mixture of envy and admiration an exhilarating drug running through her veins, and she welcomes it like an old friend.
"After weeks of sleeping wall to wall with my parents," Emma finally answers, her tone as cool and indifferent as if she were talking about the weather, "I now have the opportunity to take what I want." And she steps even closer, now bare inches separating their bodies.
A sudden fright befalls Regina, her heart fluttering weakly in her chest, colibri-like. She almost doesn't dare to ask for clarification. What if Emma has changed her mind somewhere along the way, realizing that sacrificing herself for Regina has been a mistake after all? What if she's here to make Regina pay for that mistake? What if this is revenge?
"Which is what?" Regina still whispers, hoping against all odds for a, what, fourth chance by now? But no such luck this time; Emma's eyes harden and she raises her chin. Her voice is but a whisper, her lips carefully forming the word:
"You."
Regina closes her eyes for just a second, absorbing the impact without allowing Emma to witness the emotions flickering through her mind. A second is all Emma should need to finish matters once and for all, but it passes without either of them moving and when Regina glances up at Emma again she's surprised to find a tiny glint of amusement in the depths of her eyes. And then that glint changes, grows darker, twisted, and funnily enough, heated, burning with an intensity that makes Regina automatically lower her gaze.
A throaty chuckle vibrates through Emma's body. She waves her hand, and the next thing Regina feels is the cool tapestry of the wall against her back and Emma's grip tight around her wrists, pinning her down. A hot breath tickles her earlobe when the blonde leans forward in the same movement, teeth grazing Regina's skin.
"Control is mine now. Is that understood?" Emma whispers huskily, fleetingly biting down on the sensitive flesh right under Regina's ear.
Regina can barely stifle a moan and she feels her knees grow weak. It would be so easy to give in, the fulfilling of late night dreams and poorly repressed fantasies right in front of her - but she can't. This, what's happening, is the Dark One's choice, not Emma's. And while the darkness might be prevailing in Emma's mind right now, it doesn't mean Emma isn't still in there somewhere, fighting and protesting. And when she returns and the darkness is extinguished - an act Regina will accomplish and if it so takes years - Emma will have to face regrets enough. A nightly adventure with the Queen doesn't have to be among them.
So Regina summons her strengths, and resists. Pulling away from Emma's touch as much as possible in the confined space at her disposal, she shakes her head and squares her shoulders.
"I don't think so, no."
The rage wells up in Emma immediately, her hands clenching around Regina's wrists until it hurts but Regina neither flinches nor backs down. She can tell that Emma didn't expect defiance from the way her eyes widen a fracture before darkening to a near black.
"What?"
The whisper is deadly, a promise of pain if Regina were to repeat her words. Well, Regina can handle pain, if something greater is at stake. And so she raises her chin and holds Emma's glance, proudly and with all the indifference she doesn't really feel.
"I said no, I won't defer to you. Magic doesn't make you my leader and I refuse to - "
"I am the Dark One," Emma roars and Regina once again thinks of Henry asleep upstairs. She prays he won't wake up and choose to see what's causing the commotion, or she will lose some serious ground to Emma. Maybe playing up hasn't been the best plan after all, but she can't revise her strategy now.
"I see that," Regina consequently bites right back, hoping that if she only appears strong enough, Emma will step back eventually. "But it doesn't change the fact that I won't yield to you."
It's only when the expression in Emma's changes again, turning almost playful, that Regina realizes the mistake she's made by counting on Emma's rationality. Magic is based on emotions, and since the Dark One's powers are still relatively new to Emma, she is bound to act unpredictably. Well, this brings a whole new danger to this nightly encounter. Regina's suddenly glad that her provocation didn't fuel Emma's anger. In fact, Emma is eyeing her almost fondly, leisurely letting her eyes take in every tiny aspect of Regina's complexion. The scrutiny inadvertently brings the colour to Regina's cheeks and a smirk on Emma's face.
"You don't really mean that."
And then, without another word of warning, Emma surges forward again and captures Regina's lips with hers before the mayor can dodge her. A yelp of surprise escapes Regina. She tries to jerk back, except she can't, Emma has her trapped against the wall, pressing down on her with the full length of her body. A shudder passes through Regina upon that realization, making her skin tingle and setting her nerves aflame. Never would she have thought that Emma's touch could have such an effect on her. And the kiss, the saviour's lips moving on Regina's almost feverishly. They are dry and slightly chapped under the crimson lipstick and Regina finds herself sinking into them, answering Emma's harsh bites with tentative nibbles on her own part.
But no, she must not delight in this. She has to keep a clear head, because while she is kissing Emma's lips and inhaling Emma's perfume, she has to remember that it's not Emma's mind who's in control here. And so, although a long, leather-covered leg is slowly wedging itself between Regina's, making her feel all kinds of things, including a very dominant throbbing at her core, Regina uses a momentary distraction on Emma's part to push against the arms confining her and turn her head away.
"Stop," she says, intending to sound firm, but it comes out as a strangled moan instead. Miraculously, Emma still seems to have heard her, because she pulls back slightly to look at Regina. Her eyes are darker than Regina has ever seen them and for a moment she feels her resolve weaken, but she masterfully ignores the dryness in her throat and pushes against Emma's shoulders again.
"Let me go," she demands when Emma doesn't budge, instead watching her with the faintest annoyance in the tilt of her head. Regina pushes again, a petulant move rather than a well-considered one. She should have known better than to provoke the Dark One further, but her skin is burning, and she just needs Emma to back off before she'll commit a whole different folly. And who would have known it would be just this little extra push that makes Emma snap.
But it is and the angry flashing of familiar green eyes is all the warning Regina gets before a hand wraps around her throat, constricting her airways.
"Why do you keep resisting?" Emma growls, her voice inhuman, feral. "I can see how you want this," she wriggles her leg slightly and Regina gasps when it rubs against her hot centre. It takes all her self control not to thrust her hips forward to grind against the leather, and maybe the desperation shows a little in her eyes, because Emma smirks and applies more pressure on Regina's throat.
"So why don't you take it?" She hisses and curls her index finger, the sharp nail scratching against Regina's skin, "Take it."
Suppressing a whimper, Regina feels her body react, a new gush of wetness slowly trickling down the inside of her thighs. She has to put an end to this soon or so help her.
"This is not you talking," she brings out, varying somewhere between a moan and a gasp, the limited access to oxygen finally making her feel light headed and breathless. "The darkness has lowered your inhibitions."
Emma chuckles and brings up her other hand, drawing a slow trail down Regina's stomach. When she feels muscles tensing beneath her touch, she releases a delighted laugh. It's scary how fast her emotions seem to change.
"Oh but dear," she replies, almost conversationally now, her eyes twinkling with some wicked amusement, "that is exactly why it's me talking. The darkness is simply giving me the courage to do what I've been wanting to do for a very long time."
Regina's teeth clench at the easy, un-Emma-like admission, and of course the Dark One notices.
"You don't believe me?" She snarls, suddenly furious again, "Let me prove it."
And not giving Regina a chance to react, Emma's long slender fingers press against Regina's core, cupping her through the velvety fabric of her dress. A strangled moan escapes Regina but before her body can betray her by rolling against the tantalizing touch, she summons her magic and poofs out of Emma's grasp.
Mastering magic in an emotionally turmoiled state is difficult, but Regina has perfected the technique during her long years as the Evil Queen. She materializes on the exact spot she had in mind, several metres away from where Emma had held her, an armchair in front of her, which she grabs on to in need of support. Taking a deep breath and revelling in the feeling of the air streaming in her lungs freely again, she lifts her eyes, fully expecting to see Emma leaning against the wall still. The room is empty though, without a trace of the Dark One.
Regina furrows her brow. Would Emma just leave like that? And let Regina win? It seems highly unlikely, and yet the deserted scene she's presented with suggests it. Disappointment pulses through Regina, but before she can analyse and revoke the feeling, grey smoke envelopes her. It's only due to her marvellous reflexes that Regina manages to jerk away in order to avoid being trapped again when Emma makes her appearance. An infuriating smirk is playing on her lips, which, as Regina shamefully notices while consciously pursing her own mouth, are now devoid of crimson lipstick.
"Missed me?" Emma mouths, a knowing glint in her eyes that only intensifies when Regina attempts to scoff. "Don't forget that I know when you're lying."
This comment throws Regina off balance though she refuses to let it show. It reminds her of Emma, the real Emma, untainted with darkness yet not free of pain. Emma, who through the course of her life has learned to read people to protect herself from getting hurt. Emma, whose superpower may not be perfect, despite all efforts, but with Regina it always is. Emma, who knows her.
For a moment, Regina misses her so much, the loss feels like a sharp knife twisting in her gut. And a moment is all the Dark One needs to bridge the short distance between them and cradle Regina's face in her hands. The touch is almost gentle, Emma's thumbs tracing the line of Regina's cheekbones, and when Regina looks up, she's surprised to notice the tender expression in those green eyes.
"I am still Emma you know," Emma whispers, tugging at a strand of Regina's hair, then placing it delicately behind her ear. "Still me." And then, leaning in with a wicked grin spreading on her lips she adds: "Just look at my powers like an extra gift. Something to give matters some kick..."
Regina swallows, tantalizing images penetrating her mind, colliding and overlapping with those of Emma, the real Emma, with her jutting jaw and hideous leather jackets. She shakes her head to get rid of them, refusing to let the Dark One play with her emotions any longer. It's time the Queen regains some command. For Emma's sake.
"Embracing the darkness doesn't seem very Emma-like," she counters tentatively, testing the waters by also taking a step back. Dark eyes follow her, thin lips drop into a frown, but for now Emma lets her have the distance. She just shrugs.
"Didn't want to waste the potential."
Regina takes another small step back, sees Emma's eyes dart down to her legs, freezes - but still nothing happens. Good. The gap between their bodies allows Regina to gather her wits and think of how she'll handle the situation. Hitherto, it has been Emma who set the pace, hardly giving Regina time to react. This will have to change if the mayor wants to stand any chance against the Dark One. She needs a plan to distract Emma from trying to seduce her, distract her from Henry sleeping upstairs, distract her from using her magic against Regina. And what distraction could be better than a midnight snack?
"Are you hungry? Or did the darkness extinguish this trait too?" She asks as casually as she can muster.
Emma cocks her head, an amused smile flashing over her complexion. Her eyes darken.
"On the contrary. I'm almost insatiable these days."
Regina is sure her cheeks burn brightly pink but she ignores the feeling and clears her throat.
"I meant food."
"Oh, I know what you meant," Emma smirks, disappearing and reemerging a foot closer to Regina in the blink of an eye. The mist has not yet cleared away when she repeats the trick, now standing behind Regina. Their noses are almost touching. "I also know that I'm tired of this chitchat. Why don't you put that mouth to better use elsewhere?"
A groan escapes Regina when Emma's lips once again press against hers. Still she focuses and flicks her hand to escape the Dark One's grip, reappearing on the other side of the armchair. Emma follows her before she can even breathe, pins her down to the chair, effectively demobilising Regina's wrists with her knees.
"Two can play this game," she murmurs against Regina's ear, then sits up. "Your move."
Regina's whole body seems to buzz with nerves, her skin is aflame where Emma's touching her, still she forces herself to think. Emma's magic works faster than hers, but she's inexperienced. She might be more powerful but she lacks self-discipline. If Regina managed to lure her into poofing repeatedly, unnecessarily, maybe she could tire the Dark One while saving her own strength, until eventually she would have the upper hand again.
The heat pulsing through her body is put to good use as Regina channels the energy to her palms, letting them warm up to the point where, if she were to flick her hand, she could conjure a fireball. Then she twists them, reaching for Emma's thighs.
The Dark One jerks back for only a split second, but that is sufficient for Regina who's been awaiting it. She draws her hands free and sends a magic blow at Emma. Just like she predicted, the blonde is sent flying but disappears mid air and grey mist once again embraces Regina. However, she is prepared; jumping up from the chair she creates a shield around where Emma is materializing. A hiss escapes the Dark One, then she throws her head back and laughs, short and hard. Regina's eyes dart to the staircase, to Henry, but fortunately Emma doesn't seem to notice.
"You see, there are advantages to being the Dark One," her voice comes out of nowhere as she breaks free from her cage by poofing a ridiculous amount of seven times until she's facing Regina again. "I love this form of transport."
Regina only smiles tightly, hands already up again. This is her game now. She risks wasting some of her magical energy to create a soundproof spell in the living room, then makes a swooping gesture that hurls the armchair Emma's way. Instead of stopping it, like any sensible user of magic would have, the blonde turns into swirling smoke again, and then again when Regina lets the footrest follow, and even to avoid the decorative tablecloth. It's quite ridiculous really, she's bound to get tired in the matter of minutes, and Regina allows herself a tiny self-satisfied smile. Not many can claim to have tricked the Dark One.
Except her victory only lasts seconds, when suddenly Emma's slender fingers encircle Regina's wrists once more and she's slammed against the wall.
"Oh Regina," Emma purrs in a low voice that seems to buzz through Regina's entire body. "Do you honestly think I don't know what you're trying to do?" Her free hand delivers a soft, almost gentle blow to Regina's cheek. Regina quivers, not from the sting but from the unexpected flash of pleasure that burns through her veins. Who would have thought that Emma harbours sides like this.
Not Emma but the Dark One, Regina tells herself as she stares up at her opponent, who in her turn is eyeing her appreciatively.
"What am I trying to do then?" She utters defiantly, wriggling her hands until Emma is forced to let her go. Without granting herself a second of triumph, Regina snaps her fingers and shiny black metal starts growing around Emma's wrist, holding it effectively in place above her head.
"You think you can exhaust me," Emma smirks, not at all bothered by the constraint, "You think you can lure me into wasting my power until it's drained." Another click of fingers and a chain sprouts from the first cuff, enclosing Emma's other hand and pulling it up too. Still the Dark One doesn't move, doesn't fight it. Regina is beginning to feel a bit uncertain about her plan to bind Emma's wrists. It should render her helpless, incapable of using her magic, so why doesn't she look the least bit concerned? Why is she smiling still?
"This is kinky," Emma mentions, almost conversationally. Regina cocks her head.
"Usually I'm the dominant one," she says, in spite of her instincts' warning not to trust her victory yet. A grave mistake.
"I am the Dark One!" Emma suddenly roars, and never in her life has Regina been so glad about the existence of soundproof spells. At least Henry's safe, she thinks, as she's hurled backwards into the couch. Emma, inexplicably, has freed herself from the handcuffs. Her face is contorted with rage as she attacks Regina with blasts and blasts of magic.
"How can you think my power would be finite?" She screams and wrecks the couch on top of Regina who barely has time to roll away.
"How can you think you could shackle me? Dominate me?" She screeches and the iron chains turn into snakes at her feet and lunge at Regina.
"Why won't you let me take you?" She cries and yes, she's crying now, and as they fall, her tears become ice spears that are aiming at Regina.
"After everything I've done for you!" And at this Emma breaks down, collapses into a small heap on the floor that's shaken by sobs. With her deflate the snakes, until they're just iron again, curled around Regina's legs. It is very silent all of a sudden, and Regina stands in the middle of her demolished living room, watching her friend cry.
"Emma," she says cautiously after a while, because the woman before her is Emma now, Emma in all her broken glory, Emma the abused saviour, Emma, still breathing under her cloak of darkness.
Emma, who is now lifting her head, face stained with too much mascara. It looks like the darkness is bleeding out of her with every black tear that's rolling down her cheeks, but Regina knows this is not the case, unfortunately. Darkness doesn't yield to grief, quite contrary. It consumes it, forges it into yet another weapon, feeds on it until it's strong enough to take over control. Which means, Regina has to play on this break now, has to use it to talk to Emma before the woman she likes, loves as she realizes now, becomes captive to the Dark One again.
"Emma," she says again, stepping out of the chains and hurrying to the shaking heap. She hesitates briefly, before reaching out to gingerly wrap her arms around Emma. A sigh shudders through them both as Emma accepts the embrace and leans into Regina.
"I just wanted..." Emma begins but Regina shushes her before she can finish her sentence.
"You don't have to explain yourself," she murmurs into Emma's hair and god, why didn't they hug before? Why did it have to come to a catastrophe for her to realize how much she'd yearned for this?
"But I want to explain," Emma protests, muffled against Regina's shoulder, still weak but already defiant again. Regina smiles and releases her reluctantly. Emma's hair is still the Dark One's, her face still greyish white, but her eyes look at Regina the same way they've always had. Or, not exactly the same, because when they were reserved and secretive before, they now shine with a brutal honesty that makes Regina squirm under their gaze. Emma Swan has let her walls down.
"I meant what I said earlier," Emma says at the same time as Regina blurts out: "Don't tell me things you'll regret later."
Emma frowns. "Stop interrupting me, Regina." Her voice rings with a newfound authority that has Regina look at her in alarm, certain that the darkness has regained control. But Emma's eyes remain soft and full of emotion, and her lips form a smile instead of a sneer. Regina relaxes a bit.
"As I was saying," Emma then continues as if nothing happened, "I meant what I said, about me still being me and the darkness simply giving me courage." She takes a deep breath. "I've meant every word I said and I've meant every move I made. I see the way you look at me, Regina, I know that you want me. Yet you're acting as if you hate me. Why?" Her eyes search Regina's and first now does Regina notice how tired Emma looks. How worn, how sad, how, yes, broken. And Regina realizes, she can't lie to her.
"Because," she therefore begins, her voice feeling scratchy in her throat as she fights her own terror about admitting her thoughts. "Because I like you, Emma, very much. And I can't let the Dark One ruin your life even more by sleeping with me without your consent. I can't let the darkness abuse you. I'm not gonna lie, I was tempted. It's your body I desire, but it's your mind I love and I can't do this to you." Regina's voice breaks and she realizes she's crying too now. "I can't do this to you," she repeats weakly and prays, for the sake of both of them, that the Dark One won't choose this moment to return.
"But Regina, don't you see?" Emma whispers, her hands reaching for Regina's. "I am the Dark One." She says it differently now, softer, soothing. "I am consenting. This is me acting, all me, body and mind and heart if you so will, and everything is striving after you."
And Regina is shaking her head, not believing, never believing, although she absorbs every single word Emma is saying.
"Regina, listen!" Emma says, sharper now. Regina is listening, but she wishes she wasn't, wishes she didn't have to hear the words that are too good to be true.
"Didn't I become the Dark One for you?" Emma inquires, "Didn't I give you the dagger as a token of my trust?"
"And yet you erased our memories from Camelot," Regina counters, her mind clinging to this one sane thought in a desperate attempt to withstand the madness Emma's offering.
"To protect you!" Emma says, louder, as if she feels that she's losing Regina. "Camelot was a disaster. A broken kingdom with a corrupt king. Arthur, he didn't help us to find Merlin - he sabotaged all our plans. Everything, this whole mission to Camelot failed, and in the end, bringing us back to Storybrooke was the only thing I could do to save us... Taking your memories was a necessity in the process, but believe me, I'll only keep them until I've sorted out the dangers that are still present."
"What dangers?" Regina whispers when Emma doesn't continue. Her thoughts are racing to keep up with Emma's tale. In a horrible way it all makes sense, matches up with what few memories Regina has of Camelot and its leader. The shrewd look Arthur gave them when they first arrived to the kingdom, the scheming in his glance, the triumphant smile. "What dangers?" She repeats, urgently now, afraid.
"I can't tell you," Emma says, not meeting Regina's eyes. She sounds apologetic but also stubborn, a faint trace of the original Emma in her voice and Regina's heart would warm if it weren't so frustrating.
"Emma," she sighs and the woman before her crumples.
"I'm sorry." Barely a whisper.
"Why did you come here?" Regina asks, equally low. Her heart is still pounding and her skin crawls where Emma has touched her and while she's glad they're talking now, a tiny part of her wishes they could go back to kissing. A tiny part that Regina deliberately chooses to ignore.
"I needed to see someone," Emma murmurs, still evading Regina's gaze. "To know what I'm fighting for."
"But why me?"
A frown settles on Emma's brow, her lips forming a pout and for a second she looks so much like Emma that Regina almost jerks away, the proximity suddenly overwhelming her. She doesn't have the right to be here, cradling Emma's face, not while all they are is friends and both of them have a boyfriend waiting. And yet Emma doesn't move away, doesn't tell her no. Only looks at her in this intoxicating defiance.
"Because I made a mistake. And I will fix it but I needed to be sure first."
"Sure of what?" Regina breathes, although she already has an inkling what Emma is going to say. And indeed:
"Your feelings," Emma affirms her suspicions, and for the first time tonight the blonde looks nervous. "You do have feelings for me, right?"
Regina closes her eyes. Her head is swimming, the late hour and extensive display of magic at last taking its toll.
"Emma..."
"Please." The word is carefully enunciated, every letter pronounced with a purpose that lets Regina know just how much it costs Emma to say it. "I promise I will sort this out, I promise I can. I just need to have something that I can come back to. I need you to be there when I do. I... need you."
"And I need you," Regina whispers, because what else is there to say? What point is there in resistance when all the walls have been torn down anyway, when her heart lies bare and hurting amidst the ruins? When Emma has already seen it in its truest state, what use is there in lying? "I need you, Emma," she therefore repeats, her hands still cupping Emma's cheeks, her eyes mapping every inch of Emma's face. "I need you to come back. If I let you go now - promise you will come back."
"As long as you'll have me," Emma says, "I will always come back."
And she snaps before Regina can say anything else, dissolving into grey smoke between Regina's fingers.
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css1992 · 3 years
Text
Guilty Pleasure
[Porn AU]
Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.
Warnings: 18+, explicit, references to past non-con/rape (not between main pairing, not explicit), daddy kink, Peter in lingerie, references to gaslighting and abusive relationship (not between main pairing, not explicit). The warnings are for the story as whole, not for this chapter specifically. I’ll add more in the future, if needed.
Read on AO3
Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue
-x-
“He can’t do this!” Ned slammed his hands down on the counter between them, as Peter took a swig of the cheap wine he bought with the last ten bucks he had in his wallet. “He isn’t even in all of the videos, at least half of the money is rightfully yours!” He kept going, stating the obvious, but Peter just sighed and shrugged.
“I’m not disagreeing with you, Ned, I’m just relaying what he told me: he’s not gonna give me anything. It’s his channel, his equipment, the money from the subscriptions goes straight to his bank account, so it’s his. It’s all his. His words, by the way.” He took another swig of wine straight from the bottle. He had been drinking from a small glass Ned offered him – he wasn’t a pirate – but it soon proved to be too small to quench his pain, so. Yeah. Pirate style it was.
“You have to sue his ass, Peter, he can’t get away with this,” MJ intervened. She was sitting next to him on a stool by the kitchen counter, so he turned to look at her with a deep frown on his face.
“Did you not hear me saying I just spent my last ten dollars on this bottle of wine? I have, like, twenty four cents left in my pocket. And that’s it. I can’t hire a lawyer, I can’t even feed myself right now!” He raised his voice a little, but quickly got himself back under control and apologized. His friends were not to blame for his predicament – they did try to warn him Beck was bad news, he didn’t want to listen. “And you know what? I don’t give a fuck. He can choke on all of it if he wants, the videos, the money, the subscribers, I don’t fucking care.” It wasn’t true, of course. Well, partially. He really didn’t care about the money, videos, subscribers, etc, but he cared about Beck. He would have given everything else up if it meant he could keep him.
Which was stupid of him, of course. But he certainly wasn’t winning any awards for being a great decision maker.
“It’s still not fair. I mean, I knew that guy was sleazy, but you’d think he’d have the decency to at least give you something, you know? You’ve been together for three years, he’s been making money off your ass for almost as long. How could he just fucking kick you out and not give you a single dime? After all the money you’ve made for him? It’s fucking sick, that guy is fucking psychopath if you ask me.” MJ’s face was turning red from anger, which made Peter smile a little. It felt good to know he was loved by someone, even if he hadn’t been the best friend to them for the past few years.
The thought made him close his eyes for a second, guilt creeping over him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d called either of them – maybe on Ned’s birthday, almost two months earlier. They used to be inseparable, the three of them; the three musketeers, as corny and lame as it sounded. For years, those two were the only family he knew, but when Beck came into his life, everything changed.
Stupid fucking Beck.
Peter used to think of him as his own personal super-hero – it did feel like he had come to save him, after all. They met when he was seventeen, he had been living in foster homes for almost seven years by then, after Ben and May passed away. At the time, he was with his fifth family, and there were so many children in that house, so many of them came and went, that their foster parents didn’t really keep tabs most of the time. It was easy to sneak out, and Peter did, often.
He met Beck on one of his night walks – and their first meeting should have raised all kinds of red flags, but for whatever reason, it didn’t. Beck slowed the car next to him, rolled down the window and asked how much Peter charged for a blowjob. Just like that. The teen gasped at first, but when he looked around for a moment, he realized he wasn’t in the most family friendly neighborhood. There were, in fact, some men and women around him who definitely looked like they were there for that, but Peter was in sweats, for crying out loud, and he definitely looked his age – or even younger than that.
His wide eyes must have given him away, because the older man quickly apologized and showed him a charming, white smile. He made up some excuse about mistaking him for someone else and the boy said it was ok. He was going to keep walking when Beck asked what his name was. Then how old he was. Then where he was going, where he ha come from.
Looking back, Peter knew he should have run. He should have left, because there was no excuse for an adult man like him to keep asking a teenager so many questions right after he basically offered him money to suck his dick. But that Peter, that 17-year-old boy, was still a bit too naive. To have such a handsome man showing interest in him – his kind, blue eyes smiling at him, warm and safe – was inebriating. He actually looked at him. And cared. At least Peter thought he did at the time. And he was so lonely back then, even that little bit of attention meant the world to him.
He should have run, but he stayed. Should have run, but got in his car. Should have run, but ended up giving him a clumsy hand job in the backseat, after just a few sweet promises whispered in his eager ears. Beck was so good with words, he could have convinced Peter to jump off a bridge that very same night if he wanted.  
They exchanged phone numbers. For weeks, they texted and called each other, until they could  meet again. By then, he was smitten. At twenty, he could see how innocent he had been, how trusting and open he was with a complete stranger. A 32 year-old stranger, at that. Ned and MJ, his only friends from school, warned him that it wasn’t okay. That it was weird for a man his age to be interested in a teenage boy, but Peter said they were wrong. He said he wasn’t just a regular kid, he had been through stuff they could only imagine. He was mature and experienced, and Beck could see that, which was why he liked him.
Looking back now, it was embarrassing how wrong he was. Beck was an illusionist. Sad thing was everyone could see the trapdoor but him.
“So what are you gonna do now?” MJ asked, fishing another bottle of wine from under the counter and placing it in front of Peter, who almost cried in gratitude.
“You mean besides crying myself to sleep for the next few months?” He wasn’t really joking. The only reason he wasn’t crying right at that moment was because he had spent almost three hours bawling his eyes out on a park bench close to their – well, Beck’s – apartment, hoping against hope that Beck would reconsider and come after him. When it became clear it wasn’t going to happen, he headed to the only place he knew he could find refuge – even if he didn’t deserve it.
“Yeah, besides that, obviously.” She opened the wine bottle and before he could take it and drink straight from it, she poured three glasses and Peter sighed, defeated.
“I have no idea.” He answered, only slightly surprised that he actually meant it. He had absolutely no clue what to do. For three years, he hadn’t had to worry about money – or anything, really. Beck took care of everything and he just assumed it would always be like that. That he would always have him by his side to take care of him.
He rubbed his eyes, taking a deep breath.
“Are you going to keep doing porn?” Ned asked, a worried expression on his face. Peter remembered he hated the idea when Beck first suggested it, as soon as he turned eighteen.
People are gonna lose it, Beck said. A pretty little twink and a hot daddy? We’re going to be a hit.
And they were. Their first videos blew up quickly, people were either disgusted by the thought of them together – because of the age gap – or completely enthralled. The haters helped them get more views, and Peter soon learned that there really was no such thing as bad publicity. Beck promoted their videos on twitter, where they accumulated thousands of followers. Peter remembered that, back then, many people sent him worried messages, saying he was too young, that Beck was a predator, that he was taking advantage of him.
In retrospect, they might have been right, after all.
He wasn’t too sure about doing porn when they first started, he knew once they released the first video, there was no going back, there was no way they could ever take it down – the internet was forever. Nothing was ever truly deleted. He wanted to be a dad someday, what if his children ever saw those videos in the future? What would have Ben and May thought? What about his parents?
None of this matters, honey, Beck assured him. These kids don’t even exist yet, don’t worry about them. And your relatives, well… They’re gone, sweetie. You can’t really disappoint them anymore.
So Peter did it. And he was terrified at first, he felt so exposed, people all over the world could see him in his most vulnerable moments, all of him, in every position Beck managed to put him in, in any outfit he thought the public might like, in any setting he thought might bring in more viewers, more subscribers, more money.
Soon, just the two of them weren’t enough. Their viewers wanted to see Peter with other people – other daddies –  and Beck saw another opportunity to increase his profit. Peter was strongly against the idea at first, it felt too much like prostitution, which was where he wanted to draw the line, but, again, Beck sweet-talked him into it.
It’s nothing like prostitution, honey, he said. I’ll be there the whole time, I’ll be the one filming and directing, I’ll be the one paying the other actors, all the profits are ours. How is that anything like prostitution? It’s just like what we’ve been doing so far.
So not only there were a bunch of videos of him and Beck out there in the world, there were also lots of videos of him with other men, some of whom were old enough to be his actual dad. There was even one video in particular that he was specially embarrassed by – and sadly enough, that was the most viewed one so far. It was fucking humiliating.
At some point, Peter should have realized it became all about money for Beck – and maybe it had been like that all along, he just hadn’t noticed before. Over the last few months of their relationship, they never had sex just for fun, just for the hell of it. There were always cameras, and lights, and roles to play. Beck never said he loved him anymore. Barely touched him. Barely kissed him. He should have seen it coming. He had been too blind, or just… Didn’t want to see what was happening right before his eyes. He ignored all the signs. The voice in the back of his head telling him something was off.
But anyway, porn. Could he still do it?
“I don’t know,” he answered, finally. He looked at his best friends and sighed with a shrug. “To be honest, it was never something I enjoyed, and I don’t know if I could ever do it without him somehow involved, you know? I did it with him because I felt… Safe? I don’t want to get involved in the actual porn industry, I’ve heard some pretty fucked up stories.” Peter had heard horror stories about other boys in the industry, and even though his own story was no fairy tale, there was nothing so bad that it couldn’t get worse.
“How about Just4Fans?” MJ asked and both Peter and Ned turned to look at her in shock. “What? You guys were pretty popular, right? You won awards and shit, so there must be at least a few hundred people out there who would pay money to see some dirty pictures of you, maybe some short videos. That way you won’t need to go into professional porn and you wouldn’t need a partner, but you could still make decent money. And fast.”
Well, it actually made sense. It wasn’t like there weren’t hundreds of videos of him being fucked raw all over the internet, anyway. A few dirty pictures couldn’t hurt. And besides, it didn’t need to be forever, just until he figured something out.
“That’s… actually not a bad idea,” he conceded, drinking the last of the wine in his glass. MJ sympathetically filled it up again and he mumbled his thanks.
“What do you think he will do now?” Ned asked carefully, and Peter shrugged for what felt like the hundredth time. There was so much he didn’t know.
“Probably keep shooting videos with his new boy-toy.” He managed to say it with a steady voice, but his eyes burned. He still couldn’t believe how… replaceable Beck thought he was.
When he noticed them interacting online a few months earlier, before the boy was even eighteen, Peter was alarmed, but when he confronted the older man about it, he said he was crazy and seeing things, picking up fights for no reason. He always twisted things in a way that, somehow, Peter was the one apologizing to him in the end.
Months later, just weeks after the kid turned eighteen, there he was – homeless, penniless and lost – meanwhile the other guy was probably getting comfortable in his bed. If Peter didn’t hate the kid, he would pity him. In a few years, he would probably meet the same fate.
“Do you think he would take the videos down if you asked?” Ned asked, and Peter scoffed.
“Yeah, right, those videos will still make him a lot of money monthly, he’d never delete them.” And Peter would have to live with the fact that he would always be just one google search away from complete humiliation and exposure. If he ever tried to get a serious job, those videos would stand in the way. If he ever managed to meet somebody decent and good, those videos would be a testament to what sort of person he was in the past. Fuck, some of them were really fucked up.
“So… Should we create fake twitter accounts to trash talk his short dick or what?” MJ was already grabbing her phone and Peter laughed halfheartedly, shaking his head.
“He’s not worth it. Karma will take care of him, I’m sure.” He drank the last of his wine and whimpered sadly. “So… Can I crash with you guys for a few days? I promise I’m not gonna overstay my welcome! I’ll be out of your hair as soon as the Just4Fans thing works out.”
“Of course you can, nerd, stay as long as you need. We’ve got your back, c’mon.” MJ got up from her stool and gestured for him to do the same. “Do you mind taking the couch?” She asked as she headed to her bedroom in the tiny apartment.
“Not at all,” he answered with a sigh of relief, then went to grab his suitcase by the door. Three years together and that was all he had to show for it. A single suitcase with a few changes of clothes, after being kicked out of the house on a cold February night. His eyes burned but he took a deep breath, blinking them rapidly to avoid the tears.  
“Then make yourself at home. Our casa es su casa.” MJ placed a pillow on the couch and handed him a thick, warm blanket.
“We’ll figure something out, okay?” Ned clasped him on the shoulder with a gentle smile on his face.
“Okay.” He sighed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his crushed chest.
He waited for his friends to go into their respective rooms, waited to hear their quiet snores, before he allowed the tears to run freely down his face, replaying everything Beck said to him when he kicked him out.
Before he knew it, he was a sobbing a little, so he buried his face in the pillow to muffle the noise, as he tried to convince himself that things were going to be okay, that he was going to be okay. But at that moment, that was hard to believe.
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flutter-hot-butter · 3 years
Text
Fire meets Water
Portgas D. Ace X Reader
Warning! Smut under the cut~
"What do you mean you won't let a woman fight on your crew?!" You stare in disbelief at the bare chested pirate captain. The second division leader of Whitebeards following was towering a little above you, but looked at you straight nonetheless, grinning apologetically. "No can do lass. The old man doesn't allow woman figters on his deck and I live by his example. I made an exception for my old crew, but I'll have to turn you down..." You bald your fists. "Yeah sure, turn down my offer right after I helped saving your mates, ship and hide from that Sea King." You point at the boat just off the coast of the remote island you crashed on after the recent battle. "Real fair of you!" "Now now, don't get all pouty, princess. Sure, you've shown some admirable strength, but fighting a creature whose brain is as dense as the sea it resides in is something else than just randomly joining one of the elite crews of the sea. Still... If you insist..." Ace shifts, taking a battle stance. "I suppose I could arrange something, if you can beat me, that is." You smile, dropping your bag. "Bring it on!"
Ace coughs. The steam is still thick in the air as you kneel down beside him, barely capable of containing your excitement. He was on the ground, which means you've won against the Fire Fist Ace! You reach out a hand. "Let me help you." Ace scowls at you. "You could have told me you had a Mizu Mizu (read: water water) fruit." You retract your hand. "And reveal my tactics? Seems unwise." "Yeah sure you can keep it from an enemy. But a friend? Your possible crewmates? We're elemental opposities. You could've seriously hurt me if I didn't react in time." Ace gets up and sighs. "You're welcome to be a part of the crew, but you've got a long way to go to earn some trust." And with that, Ace and the other members of the division head for the ship.
You stare at the black water, your head and arms resting on the railing of the ship. Today had been a disaster. Sure you managed to get on Ace's crew, but you somehow still felt humiliated. You sniff as the merry sounds of your newfound crewmates drift off to the stars from the other side of the deck. You don't feel particulary cheery. You're lost in thought about how you can make it up to your captain, when his voice startles you from behind. "You look cold." You snap your head to the left, where Ace took a seat on the railing without you noticing. He nods towards your arms, which indeed have chilly goosebumps. "Oh sorry, I didn't-" "No need to apologize for being cold," Ace laughs. You feel silly. "I am sorry though. For what happened this afternoon, captain." Ace waves his hand through the air. "Bygones be bygones. You've learned and you're a part of the Whitebeard pirates now. Besides, I might have been a bit sultry too. You're pretty strong, for a girl," Ace jokes. You both laugh. You're about to say something in retortion, when a gust of wind blows by, making you shiver. Ace slides from the railing and wraps his arms around you. you're surprised by his action, but then realise how warm he is for someone who walks around with a bare upper body at this time of night. "You're... Warm..." You whisper "Yeah... A side-effect from the Devil Fruit..." Ace mumbles. He then buries his face in your hair. "Hmmm, you smell good..." You chuckle. "I doubt it will last out here on the sea." "Then I'll be sure to treasure this moment." You stand there in his embrace for a while, a little flustered, when Ace starts talking again. "Let's make tonight even more memorable..." He removes his arms around you and grabs your hands. You gaze into his eyes. The harsh, combative look of that afternoon had gone. Like a blazing fire turning into a kindling flame, Ace now looks at you with a soft smile, his eyes twinkling in the light of the moon. He tugs you towards the doors and pulls you inside. After a bit of a walk through the wooden hallway, he pulls you through another set of doors. You enter a room which you recognize as a captain's cabin. What was he planning? Before you could ask any questions, however, Ace had shut the door, and cloased all space between the two of you. You feel his chapped lips move against yours as he kisses you passionately. You place your hands against his muscular chest in a weak attempt to push him away. He puts his hands on your hips. You can't help it. The intense battle this afternoon, that moment you shared on the deck... He had been pulling you in completely all day, and you were genuinely starting to fall for the rather handsome, black haired captain. Your captain. With a jolt, you jump back. You can see Ace furrowing his brows in the dim light of the cabin. "Didn't like it?" "N-No.. It's just that... Well... You're the captain, and..." Ace sniggers. "There's no law on Whitebeard's crew preventing us from doing this. But if you really don't want to... You know where the door is," Ace says, while putting his signature hat on the coat rack next to the door and removing his shoes, not breaking eye contact. You don't move a muscle. Your mind is still racing in all directions, but it seems your body has already made a choice. Carefully regarding your actions, Ace makes his way over to you. Slowly, he leans in. Detecting that you're not going to retract, he carefully closes the gap between you again. As his nose softly brushes against yours, all thoughts in your head go silent, and you lean in as well. You slide your hands over his shoulders, resting them at the back of his neck. He wraps his arms around you. As the kiss becomes rougher, Ace urges you to slowly walk backwards, until you're up against the wall. he pins your arms to the side and breaks loose. You look at him. His gaze has changed once again. From combatant to soft, and now to an expression laced with lust. He strats trailing kisses down your cheek towards your neck. You softly moan as he sucks down on a delicate spot. He quickly releases
a hand to put a finger over your lips. "Now now, don't alert the rest of the crew, or our fun will be over," he grins, a playful glimmer in his eyes. He kisses you again, sliding his tongue across asking for entrance. You grant him. Meanwhile, his hands trail to your legs. Without any effort, he hoists them around his middle. You hastily grab on to his upper body for balance. Ace starts to grind against you. you can feel his member being rock hard already through his trousers. You let out a muffled moan. Ace grunts in agreement. You wrap your legs around his waist. His hands trail upwards again, towards your breasts. He squeezes them softly, making you break away for air. You bite your lip as he starts to toy around witht hem through the fabric of your shirt. He then tugs on your shirt and murmurs. "These clothes are getting in the way..." He taps your upper legs, signalling you to let go. Once you're firmly back on the ground again, Ace wastes no time pulling your shirt over your head. Your bra befalls the same fate. You are now both bare chested. Ace takes in the view and whistles. "Wow," he breathes. You have to surpress a giggle. Ace pulls you along to the bed, and gestures you to lay down. You quickly remove your sandals. Ace places himself on top of you, at level with your boobs, and takes a hold of both of them again. He rolls your erect nipples around in his fingers. You grab the sheets. Ace then takes a nipple in his mouth, carefully sucking. You can barely hold in a whimper. After a while, Ace relases your boobs ans reaches for your mouth again. During the kiss, he starts removing your skirt and underpants. his own garments accompany yours on the wooden floor. You pop yourself up a bit to take a look at his erect member. "You like what you see?" He grins, as he inches a bit closer. You smile, and open your mouth. Ace thrusts his hips forward, placing his tip on your tongue. You start sucking. Ace places a hand behind your head to hold you up right, and tangles his fingers into your hair. "Oh, that feels good..." He whispers. You slowly start bobbing your head. Ace goes along with your movement. You increase the tempo. You can hear his breath become irregular. Suddenly, he pulls away. You look at him in confusion, but he winks. "Not yet." He repositions himself to sit in between your legs, placed perfectly in front of your entrance. He traces one finger down over the length of your labia. You lean in to his touch. You can see him smile at your natural response. He strokes again, pressing a little harder this time. He then repeats the motion once more, also stroking upward. He stops at your clitoris, and makes a repetitive motion against the spot. Your nails dig into the bed as Ace replaces his finger with his tip, sliding up and down your vulva. You can feel yourself getting wetter. Ace continues until you've become slippery, at which point he places his penis against your opening. "Brace yourself." He pushes himself in. You put a hand over your mouth as he slowly submerges himself fully. Once he is all the way in, he leans over to you, prying your hand away and replacing it with his lips, to distract you. It doesn't take you too long to adjust, and soon you can feel his shaft throb. Ace starts his movement. First slow, but gradually picking up speed. He sits up right again and grabs your breasts, kneading them as he moves in and ou of you. You can feel your body growing more tense as the pleasure increases. As the speed rises to a certain point, Ace lays down and holds on to your shoulders for balance, pressuring them to augment his thrusts. You try not to scream as you feel his member pulsate. "Please Ace..." You moan softly. You want to release so badly. "Almost..." He groans. His breath has become ragged. With one last great impact, you can feel him spill inside you. It pushes you over the edge as well, and your can feel your body relax under the pleasure. Ace collapses on top of you, and you both breathe heavy. When Ace manages to recollect himself, he pulls out, and lays down beside you. You
turn on your side towards him. You can see that he's satisfied with his job. As your sexual high wears off, your chills return. You shift closer to Ace, cuddling up to him. Even now, his body is warm. He skillfully pulls the covers from under your bodies and pulls them over yourselves. He brushes a strand of your hair aside, and pulls up your chin to make you look at him. "You're an amazing girl, depsite the whole no women fighters law, don't you ever forget that. I never knew I'd fall for you so hard." He puts his arms around you. You smile and shrug. "What can I say? Opposites attract." You both laugh exhausted. As you drift off to sleep, Ace has one last thing to say to you. "Oh and (Y/N), now that we share a bedroom... You're not required to call me captain anymore." "Will do, Ace."
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achubbydumpling · 3 years
Note
Modern Bucky is fat and Steve’s sugar baby. Steve likes to spoil him. :3
eyy only took me a month and a half to answer 😂😂 I'm sorry, nonnie, but I'm highjacking your idea and using it for today's chubtober prompt :D
(I ended up having a lot more ideas for this than I could actually finish writing in time, so this ends pretty abruptly as soon as Steve and Bucky actually meet)
[unfinished] Oct 3: Masks and Malfunctions
Rating: Mature Words: 1911 Relationship: James “Bucky” Barnes/Steve Rogers Additional Tags: Sugar Daddy AU, Daddy Kink, Belly Kink, Weight Gain, Verbal Humiliation, Stuffing, Corsets, Age Gap
Bucky’s phone chimed and he didn’t even have to look at the screen to know that “Steve” just sent him more than enough money for the costume Bucky wanted. He didn’t actually know if that was the guy’s real name, but he’d been funding Bucky’s lifestyle since the beginning of college and Bucky wasn’t about to fuck that up by questioning the guy’s identity.
If this were a normal Halloween party Bucky would have just bought a random costume at Spirit Halloween, but his kinda boyfriend Jonas (it’s complicated) had invited him as a plus one to an actual masquerade ball. Bucky didn’t even know those kinds of things existed outside of fantasy novels, but right now he was at a high-end clothing store getting an “appropriate” costume.
[Bucky] Thank you, Daddy❤
Bucky texted Steve and then went back to trying on another dress shirt. This one had a looser cut that reminded him of something the male love interest in a period drama would wear or a pirate.
“Wonderful choice,” the store clerk told Bucky when he stepped back from the mirror. Bucky would probably never get used to having someone help him pick out clothes, but the higher-end stores Bucky had been to all offered this type of assistance.
“It drapes very well,” the clerk said with a sneer on his face. Bucky turned back to the mirror. Yes, he had to admit he’d fallen victim to the freshman 15. A small belly was rounding out even against the loose fabric of the shirt, but he didn’t actually feel self-conscious.
Steve had complimented him on every single one of those pounds. Bucky probably wouldn’t even have noticed all the changes to his body if Steve hadn’t been constantly talking about them. Bucky had never put much effort into maintaining his physique, but being hyped up by Steve over the smallest changes of his body made him feel desired and his heart fluttered every time his sugar daddy complimented his thicker thighs and soft belly.
“Any other suggestions?” Bucky asked and the clerk scoffed.
“A corset,” he muttered under his breath, but Bucky’s ears pricked up at the suggestion. His first instinct was to text Steve. Bucky didn’t know why it was important for him to know Steve’s opinion when Bucky was going to the party as someone else’s plus one, but excitement stirred in Bucky’s stomach at what Steve might say.
“Sure, get the corset.” Bucky sent the clerk on their way and then sat down to text Steve. He could feel his belly straining against the shirt buttons now that he was sitting down and he snapped a picture of the way the buttons on the otherwise loose shirt were straining over the thickest part of his belly.
[Bucky] Daddy~ they’re telling me I’m fat
[Bucky] they said I need a corset
[Steve] You will look incredible either way.
Annoyance prickled at the back of Bucky’s neck from the generic compliment.
[Bucky] that’s not what I asked
[Steve] You didn’t ask anything.
Bucky rolled his eyes at how literal Steve could sometimes be, but Bucky also didn’t know how to ask for what he really wanted to hear.
Some of his classmates had teased him for his weight gain and instead of making Bucky feel insecure, the hot shame had shot straight to his dick and he’d had to excuse himself to deal with the problem. Since then Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about Steve telling him those things.
Bucky didn’t even know what the guy looked like, but he’d quickly developed a crush just from texting him. It was actually fun to talk. Bucky couldn’t understand how the guy was single when he seemed like this perfect, interesting and kind guy—and rich on top of all that.
There has to be something wrong with him, but so far Bucky hadn’t been able to figure it out. Not for the first time Bucky wondered who Steve actually was, but his thoughts were interrupted when the clerk came back with three different corsets.
All the same material and color, just different cuts. Bucky’s eyes were immediately drawn to the tiny waist cincher—just tall enough to cover the widest part of his belly. Despite his grumblings the clerk helped Bucky lace up the corset and when he looked in the mirror he couldn’t believe it was him looking back.
His entire body shape seemed different. From the billowing sleeves of the shirt emphasizing his wide shoulders to the waist cincher doing an excellent job of making it look like he still had a waist instead of the soft belly that was hidden underneath. The simple black slacks he was wearing completed his outfit. Simple colors, just black and white.
The mask he had chosen matched as well. A deep midnight black that contrasted with his piercing blue eyes and gold detailing that caught the light when Bucky turned his head. He snapped another picture for Steve, but didn’t wait for his response. Bucky could still hardly believe that a single outfit could be this expensive, but Steve of course had transferred enough money to pay for it. On his way home Bucky finally checked his phone.
[Steve] What did I tell you? Incredible.
[Bucky] better than without the corset?
[Steve] This feels like a set-up.
Bucky groaned at Steve’s response. Of course, Bucky would luck out and get the sugar daddy that won’t humiliate him for gaining fifteen pounds before the semester was even over and wasn’t that a personal revelation. Bucky had never thought of himself as someone who could want something like this, but since gaining weight he had become more aware of his body—and how others perceived it.
[Bucky] it is
He quickly pocketed his phone after sending that text. Bucky immediately regretted it. He’d had a good thing going with Steve. Why risk fucking that up? His phone vibrated multiple times, but Bucky was too worried to check his messages until he got home. As soon as he’d closed the apartment door behind him he fished his phone out of his pocket.
[Steve] What does that mean?
[Steve] If you don’t want to continue this arrangement, you can just tell me.
[Steve] Bucky.
[Steve] Answer me.
[Steve] What do you want me to say? That you’re a spoiled pig? That you’ve gotten fat on your Daddy’s money and need a corset to look good for your little boytoy?
Bucky’s throat went dry as he read Steve’s message. The wave of lust that crashed through him, threw him off balance and he sat down heavily on the bench in the entry way of his apartment. He read the message again. And again. His dick gave an interested twitch. It was embarrassing how much he reacted to Steve’s words.
[Steve] Is that what you want?
[Steve] Don’t leave me on read.
Bucky didn’t know what to say. He typed and retyped the same message again until another one from Steve popped up.
[Steve] ‘Yes’ or ‘no’? It can’t be this hard to type one fucking word.
Bucky couldn’t breathe. Steve had always been kind and considerate, it made Bucky’s heart race to see this side of him.
[Bucky] Yes.
[Steve] Thank you, but we will talk more about this tomorrow.
Bucky’s phone chimed to tell him, he should be on his way now if he wanted to get to the party on time. His mind was still caught up in foggy arousal, his cock tenting his slacks. It’s too much, he wasn’t thinking straight and Steve wasn’t even here—wasn’t even touching him. Just a text and Bucky was a mess.
At least the walk to the subway station helped to clear Bucky’s head and chase away some of the immediate, burning need that had been burning in his guts just a few minutes earlier. It left him frustrated, but slightly more level-headed and in a more appropriate mood to be out in public.
When Bucky met up with Jonas outside the high-rise office building the guy was already wasted. He was surrounded by his office buddies and Bucky was honestly about to turn on his heel and go back home when Jonas called out to him. With all his mates there Jonas treated Bucky like another one of them and Bucky was already over the metaphorical dick-measuring contest that was happening whenever one of these guys opened their mouth.
Once they got inside Bucky split off from the group, Jonas didn’t even seem to notice. So, he explored the venue. The party stretched across multiple floors. The bottom floor was full of rich and wanna-be rich people schmoozing and socializing, barely anyone of them had stuck to the masquerade theme and Bucky kept debating whether he should take off his own mask.
He was much more comfortable on the upper floor. There were less people here and most of them kept to themselves. He felt less out of place when he noticed that most of the people here stuck to the masquerade theme, there were only a few people who’s face wasn’t at least partially hidden behind a mask.
Jonas didn’t even shoot him a quick text to ask where he had disappeared to, so Bucky was more than ready to just find whatever food this place offered, eat for free tonight and make the best of the situation. He didn’t know what he’d expected dating someone his age, but Bucky was done settling for anything and he made a resolution to break up whatever was going on between him and Jonas.
When Bucky finally found the buffet that was standard for these types of events, he couldn’t stop himself from loading up two plates and searching for a quiet, secluded place to eat. At this point it had become a reflex to send Steve a text whenever he sat down to stuff himself.
[Bucky] found the food
He sent a picture with his hand next to the plates to give Steve a sense of how big they were. Some guy’s phone went off as soon as Bucky hit send two tables over and for a moment Bucky wondered if that’s Steve.
He had a commanding presence even sitting down. Bucky could tell he’s a gym buff from his ridiculous shape. His shoulders looked almost double the size of his waist. As well as the large plate of food in front of him. This man needed to fuel his body with all those calories, but Bucky was eating more than him and only planning on getting fatter. Bucky dug in.
His little costume went from fitting perfectly fine to too tight within half a plate of food. The corset was throwing a wrench into Bucky’s plan of stuffing himself. He already felt full before he had even really gotten started. The blond guy from two tables over caught Bucky’s eye again. He was frowning at his phone and looking back up at Bucky.
[Steve] What are you doing here?
[Bucky] what do you mean?
Another phone chime from two tables down. Bucky re-read the text two times before he looked back at the blond guy. No way that’s Steve. That would be too much of a coincidence, right? Bucky sent another message and the guy’s phone went off again. For a moment Bucky contemplates just getting up and walking away, but then Steve was already out of his chair and walking up to Bucky’s table.
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jimlingss · 4 years
Text
Moirai [2]
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3
➜ Words: 6.2k
➜ Genres: 60% Fluff, 40% Angst, Isekai!AU
➜ Summary: Death is supposed to be the end. Or at least that's what you assumed when you're hit by a TRUCK. But the moment you open your eyes again, instead of being sent to the afterlife, you've become a baby. And not just any baby. You're the female villain of a video game.
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You turn the corner and dart down the hall.   “My lady!”   There’s a parade of maids chasing after you, Joan included in the bunch, and a frightened guard whose metal armour clanks with each movement. You grin, swinging your wooden sword around at them with a ‘huzzah!’. Pretending you’re a champion, you twirl around the pillar with one arm. But even with your theatrics, they’re still meters away and out of reach.   “Please! Come back! You have your dance lessons!”   You stick out your tongue. “Then catch me!”   It’s been one full year since you’ve started learning swordsmanship and admittedly, it’s become one of your most favourite times of the day. It beats sitting at a desk with the old fart droning on and on about dumb things you already know or having your posture criticized over and over again during dance lessons.    You’re frankly getting tired of having information and insults shoved down your throat.    Sword lessons are the only time you can be out in the sun and do whatever you want. You can tell that you’re improving too. It’s a pain in the ass to get the guards to take you seriously, but sometimes the tips and tricks they give are pretty helpful.   It’s fun.   Especially when there are people desperately chasing you.   “P-Please!” one of the girls cries out, running out of breath.   One of the best perks about being a five-year old is having endless energy in your body. And you’ll happily take advantage of that while you still can. “Pirates never give up! Argh, matey!”   But your play time is unfortunately interrupted by a deadpanning voice—   “What are you doing?”    The familiar sharp voice sends shivers up your spine and you freeze.   Your parade halts on their heels as well, immediately dropping their heads to the ground and placing one hand over the other reverently. “Your grace.”   “What is going on here?” Your mother’s footsteps echo through the marble hall, ball gown dragged behind her as her scrutinizing eyes lay on the help, the knight and then to you.   “I’m so sorry,” Joan is quick to confess, “The lady refuses to attend her dance practices.”   And she’s quick to throw you under the bus.   If you could, you’d stick up your middle finger at her.   Your mother turns, her glare laid upon you. You brace yourself.   “This is not how the future Devereux head should act.” Her voice is above a slight murmur, yet chilling and heavy. Her narrowed eyes have dimmed as they look upon you. She doesn’t need to yell to be frightening. “The Chevalier household has their youngest daughter playing piano and they recently went to the castle to show her talent. How will you compete, Anastasia?”   “I—”   “Or will you continue to tarnish our family’s name by being a child?”   You are a child. Technically.    The woman looms over you, her demeanour imposing and the burden of the household’s name lays upon your shoulders. You can’t help but feel small. It’s no wonder Anastasia took the Prince’s kindness as love and fell for him so quickly. Moments with him were her moments of freedom.   You stay quiet, solemn, knowing it’s not worth arguing. Your eyes instead focus on a younger maid who’s silently snickering to herself and before you can make note for later, your vision blurs.   “From now on, your swordsmanship lessons will be retracted until you’ve caught up with the rest of your lessons,” she says while looking straight ahead, not sparing you a glance. “The only places you are to be permitted in for the next month is your room and the study—”   It’s unfair. A punishment that doesn’t fit the crime.   But your voice doesn’t come out of your mouth.   The world tilts on an axis. It swirls. Your head is lightweight.    And before you could figure out what’s happening, there’s a shrill cry for you — “my lady!” — and you feel yourself falling back before the universe becomes pitch black. An abyss of nothing.   //   “Why did she faint?!”   When you come to, your first thought is that you’ve died. Again.   Illness. Heart attack. Maybe from the plague.    Fuck.   It’s frightening and you feel an urge to cry, knowing that you yet again didn’t complete your goal of living a long and fruitful life. That the years spent fighting for your survival were ultimately useless. But then you hear far away voices and realize your fingers can twitch. The soft mattress underneath you registers soon after and it sinks in that you’re in your room, bedridden.   “Well….your grace…”   “On with it! I didn’t bring you here to waste my time!”   “Herrick…”   Oh right. It’s the Eve of the Solar Festival, isn’t it? A day where commoners celebrate the empire and wish for its everlasting prosperity. You remember since you’ve never gone before. Around this same time last year and the year before that, you fell ill in the exact same way — cold, chest aching, dizzy spells.    It’s odd. Usually you aren’t so weak and yet somehow, you always get better in the morning once the festival is over. You don’t remember this ever being mentioned in the original game either. Or at least Anastasia never said anything about it and she would’ve totally milked it for the Prince’s attention if she could’ve. But maybe it’s an outside detail. Something the game developers were going to include in a future DLC.   “We don’t know what’s happening to the lady, your grace,” the healer says.   Your father bellows from his stomach, “Excuse me?!”   “H-Her pulse reads well and she has no fever either. I-It’s a very unusual case.”   In your half-consciousness, you perceive the bitter silence.    “Heal her at all costs.” Your father’s footsteps fade and your mother sighs.   You wish you couldn’t hear. Otherwise, it would be easy to demonize the pair as unsympathetic, psychopathic parents who only consider their daughter a chess piece. You’re sure the only reason they’re expressing so much concern is because you are the only heir after all. They really have no future if Anastasia dies.    But it’s still hard to quell the hope that they actually care for your wellbeing.    Still, you wish you couldn’t hear their desperation. It wouldn’t have to be so conflicting. Or bittersweet. The only time they show an ounce of their affection is when you’re on your deathbed.   You muster the strength to open your eyes once everyone’s left the room.    Most likely, you’ll live through this. You still have yet to have any of the game’s encounters or even start. Anastasia was alive for most of it, enough to terrorize the main character, so you’ll live too.   Shit. When does the game start again?   The opening scene was right before the debutante ball was held for all the girls in the empire.   You count on your fingers — give or take, there’s twelve or thirteen years left….   But you remember from the wiki fan page that Anastasia became engaged to the Crown Prince when they were kids.    Oh god. If you weren’t so weak, you’d roll over and scream into your pillow.   There’s an unsettling feeling boiling in the pit of your stomach.   No matter how much effort you put forth, you don’t know how you’re going to avoid that arrangement.
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Turns out, it’s unavoidable.   It begins two years later at seven years old, the D-day that you were dreading, the first domino that begins all the others.   “No! Please!” The entire household is stunned at how you’ve grabbed onto the Duke’s leg and wrapped your limbs around his appendage, practically dead weight and not allowing him to move a single step.    All your life, you’ve kept a good amount of distance between your parents — never daring to overstep your boundaries or sass them back no matter how much you wanted to. It’s more trouble than it’s worth anyway and it’s better to play on their good side.   But you’ve thrown in the towel. This is your last desperate attempt.   “I’ll be good, I promise I’ll go to all my dance lessons and all my history lessons and all my math lessons. Please, papa! Please!” You’re practically crying aloud. You wish someone would help you. “I don’t want to go to the Royal Palace!”   Edith is shaking her head while Joan is mortified at the sidelines.   Your mother’s expression is twisted in disgust while your dad is wholly aghast. Hey — it’s not like you wanted to do this either, alright?!   But your pleas fall on deaf ears. To them, it’s merely the whining of a child. A temper tantrum.   “My lady, please stop this,” Joan harshly whispers and rushes to pry your grip off of the Duke’s leg. Several others come too, maids and kitchen staff alike. Your strength is no match for theirs.   “My stomach hurts!”   Your father has no sympathy. “We’ve delayed enough times, Anastasia. If we postpone the meeting with the King again, it would be shameful to our house. Now get up.”   He’s done hearing the excuses — and while you’d usually internally call him out for being an ass, the moment you heard he wanted to take you to the palace, you did claim you have a fever.    Then you claimed diarrhea. A cough. Hid for several hours.   You’re actually surprised you managed to delay it for this long.   “There’s no choice, my lady,” Joan mutters quickly as she fixes the ribbons in your pretty hairdo. “You must go with the Duke today.”   Deep down, you know it’s true. You’ll be pulled along anyhow.    But you wish they would understand that this is a matter of life and death for you.   Your silence is a sign of raising the white flag and Joan retracts back to her place as your dad turns to leave the manor. He adjusts his hat as he’s escorted to the carriage and you’re about to trail after him, but your mother stops you.   You expect her to reprimand you, give an earful of what you should and shouldn’t do. But you’re surprised when she lowers herself down to your eye level.    She catches you off guard when she reaches out to button up your pea coat, attentive and careful in each swift movement. “This is a really important meeting, Anastasia. Do you understand?”    Her voice is soft, quiet enough that no one else aside from you can hear. You nod.   “You must be on your best behaviour. Your father, me, all the workers here, and the whole House of Devereux will be relying on you.” Wow. Way to not pressure a seven year old. “Today is the day that might change our lives for the better.”   As she finishes buttoning, her hands stroke your shoulders down your arms. The Duchess smiles gingerly, tiredly. For a moment, you feel guilty for being so selfish — for prioritizing your own survival and desires when everyone else was quite literally relying on you for their livelihood.   You find yourself swallowing hard before nodding again.    You get into the carriage without another word.    Well fuck. What now?   A part of you wishes you ran away when you had the opportunity — even though there was a good chance you would’ve been kidnapped and sold at an underground market or gone hungry or be shipped back right to your parents. Ashea, like any other place, doesn’t take kindly to wandering children.   But at least then you would’ve had more control and choice.    You know this isn’t just a fun field trip to the palace. The only reason the Duke and the King would meet like this is to seek an engagement. Your engagement with the Prince’s.    Half an hour later, you peek out the carriage windows to see the castle at the horizon.   Stone walls, seven towers, lookouts, the empire’s flag fluttering in the breeze — it’s a beautiful place with rolling green hills and beds of flowers that wind up the path. It’s a hundred times more grand than the Devereux estate and ten times the size too, stretching across for miles. But it’s also the location where all of it happens.    The beginning. The climax. The end.   “Anastasia.”   Your attention is taken when your father steps off the carriage. You take the servant's hand and hop down onto the cobblestone, following your father closely. He greets an important person or two and you lower your head to them in greeting as they complement how mannerly you are.   The two of you are led through open, lavish halls full of life-sized portraits and marble statues, and then through the garden. Even in both your lifetimes, you’ve never seen so many different kinds of flowers and vivid hues in one place.    Pansies. Orchids. Marigold.    Magenta. Lavender. Marmalade.   But you don't get to admire it for long. Not when the gazebo comes into sight.    A man with straight posture, dark hair streaked with gray to show his age and deep set eyes sits at the rounded table. Even with the absence of his crown, his status is shown through his navy cape ornate with golden swirls held together by an emerald jewel embellished with the royal crest. Wrinkles around his mouth, he has a fiercely stern expression until he cordially smiles as your father approaches.    Beside him is a spitting image, a smaller boy slumped in the white chair, visibly bored.   “Herrick! Good to see you, my old friend.”   “Your Majesty.” Your father bows and you follow suit, giving a curtsy and lowering your head. But at the same time, you can’t help peeking at the boy. His eyes meet yours and you look away.   Oh fuck.   It’s the first meeting between the Prince and Anastasia.    You’re sure for her it was impactful, nerve wracking, life changing. And it’s like that for you as well, but not so much on the positive side.   “Please, the formalities. Is this the daughter you've been speaking so highly about?”   “Yes, this is my only child, Anastasia.”   You plaster on a perfect, little smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty.”   The King hums. “A very lovely child indeed. The Devereux House is blessed.”   The Duke smiles. “Thank you.”   “Please sit and make yourselves welcome.” The King gestures and the servants nearby scurry over, pulling out your chairs, pouring tea and placing plates of biscuits on their table. In a blink, they’ve finished and you can’t help but muse how much better they are than the servants back at home. The King smiles and looks at his son. “Jungkook, don’t you have anything to say?”   “Nice to meet you,” he deadpans before his doe eyes wander out to the gardens.    Jungkook is wholly disinterested in you and this entire affair — you don’t blame him. You bet any seven year old would be itching to get out of their seat. But looking at him, you can’t believe you liked him so much in the game. You even had him as your phone wallpaper for a few months.   But from the perspective of Anastasia and knowing your outcome and your impending demise, he’s not even cute as a kid.   If anything, sitting across from him stresses you the fuck out.   You weren’t supposed to even meet him. This was the exact opposite of your battle plans. And yet the engagement is going to happen whether you like it or not. The greatest irony of all is that you know he’ll end up falling in love with the main character anyway instead of you. Aka. the orphaned girl who ends up adopted by a baron.   This whole ordeal only serves to make you suffer.   The only way you could sabotage this meeting now is by slamming the teapot over Prince Jungkook’s head. And that would either get you thrown in jail for treason and executed or sent back to the Devereux estate on house arrest where your mother would kill you.   Oh god. It’s death either way.   “Are the sweets not to your liking?”   It takes a second for you to register that the King is looking at you. That he’s speaking to you.   You go wide-eyed, realizing you haven’t had a bite of the cakes, the biscuits or sipped on any tea. You’ve completely tuned out their conversation. But he’s been watching you and Jungkook from the corner of his eye, assessing your interactions closely.    Your palms go clammy as you open your mouth before closing it.    “She’s just shy,” your dad swiftly informs with a polite smile. It’s a complete lie, but one the royal monarch believes.   “Ah. We shouldn’t bore them with adult talk then.” The man turns to his son. “Jungkook, why don’t you go off and play with Anastasia here?”   “Okay,” he mumbles and slides off his chair.   You follow suit, a bit relieved that you were dismissed from the overly formal atmosphere.   The two of you go deeper into the gardens until the gazes of your father and the King’s fade from view. Jungkook is wearing a white ensemble with a cape which he dirties with the way he’s kicking rocks in his path. He seems burdened that you’re beside him.   “What do you like playing?” he asks.   You’re perplexed on how to answer. You’re not sure how you should play with an actual seven year old. Then again, you like to run away from the maids and swing your sword around on your down time. But that’s just because you like their reactions.   “Sword fighting.”   Jungkook blanches as if he just bit into a lemon. “What kind of girl plays with swords?”   Suddenly, you’re overwhelmed with an urge to kick the royal prince right in his shin.    But as the annoyance floods you, an epiphany comes along with it — if you can’t avoid Jungkook, maybe it’s time to switch strategies. Maybe you can start sowing the seeds of your future survival right here, right now. If one day, he’ll be condemning you of countless crimes and looking down at you as an evil villain, maybe you can turn his perception in the opposite direction.   Harmless. Overbearingly nice. Arrows that practically point ‘I’M NOT A THREAT WHATSOEVER!’.    You’re a genius.   You force the highest pitched giggle you can. “Really?”   Jungkook kicks another rock. “Girls have flimsy arms and trip every time you touch them.”   Ah. The ancient version of: girls have cooties and so you should stay away from them. Alright, alright. You can work with this.   “What do you like playing, Your Highness?”   “Anything that’s not with girls.”   You pause and laugh, hoping it doesn’t sound too stiff.   Jungkook suddenly lifts his head and turns to you with the swivel of his heel. You stop as well and his index finger juts right in your face. “Since I’m the prince, I’ll have mercy on you. We can play servant and king.”   “What’s servant and king?”   “I’m the king.” His thumb pokes himself and then he’s back to pointing right between your eyes again. “You’re the servant. You have to follow me and all my orders or off with your head!”   What a little shit.   How is this going to be any fun for you?!   But you draw an enormous grin on your face, left eye twitching in the process. “Sounds like fun, Your Highness!”   He strolls off. “Let’s go, dumb dumb.”   Your teeth grit and you inhale a deep breath. It hurts your pride to be insulted by a literal seven year old, but you can handle it. When it comes to life or death, you’ll easily befriend the hero.   “Fetch that stick, peasant!”   The prince points at the distance and looks at you expectedly.   Your teeth grit. But you muster a smile and dash forward.   When it comes to life or death, you’ll befriend the hero……….probably.   “Here you go, Your Highness.”   You present the stick to him with both hands and the brat smirks. A rush of air leaves his nose and then he takes the stick. You’re not sure what to expect, but your entire body freezes when he hurls it as far as his arms can go. He points between your brows a second later. “Go get it!”   Motherfucker. “Yes!”    Once Jungkook’s tired of having you fetch like a dog, you trail after him closely. The green hedges are triple your size, acting like corridors of the garden before they open up to certain areas filled with beds of flowers or a fountain. Some paths are unpaved, so you listen to the crunch of rocks underneath his shoes amidst the quiet.    When you’re not out of breath and running at his command, it finally sinks in that it’s the first time you’re with a main character of the game. For the seven years of this lifetime thus far, there was only really you. Your parents were supporting characters at best who just took the opportunity to slyly diss the main heroine a few times at royal gatherings. But other than that, you’re currently facing the backside of someone you know a lot about.   Who he will become. What his future holds. What his desires are.   You pipe up, “Prince Jungkook—”   “That’s Your Highness, peasant!”   You clench your jaw. “Your Highness…”   “What?”   You quicken your steps until you’re beside him and he turns his head. “I’ll support you forever if you want to fall in love with anyone! I don’t care about being the crown princess or the queen!”    For good measure, you flash a wink and a thumbs up.   “What?” His boyish face is twisted up in disgust. “Why would a peasant be a queen?”   You hold in your sigh. “I’m just saying. If we ever get engaged or something, it can always be annulled when we’re older. So feel free to love on, Your Highness. Make love, not war!”   Your words completely fly over Jungkook’s head.   His face reads that he has no clue what you’re talking about.   And he turns away from you. “You’re weird.”   You scoff.    You’re not sure how you can become friendly with a seven year old when you’re internally twenty years older than he is. If you had chocolate on you, you’d use that as a bargaining chip. But clearly, you only have your body, brain and the surroundings at the moment….   What do seven year old boys like?   What do they like?   As you scan your surroundings, your eye catches something in the bushes. You stop and get closer.   At the same time, Jungkook realizes you’re not following him anymore and turns around. “What are you doing, peasa—” His words are cut short by a shrill shriek of absolute terror.   Your brows furrow and you thrust your hand closer to him. “It’s a ladybug.”   The tiny red and black polka dotted bug is crawling in your hand. Jungkook screams again.   He’s stumbling back, nearly tripping onto his butt, doe eyes reflected with complete horror as if you just chopped off his mom’s head. “Get that thing away from me!” his voice cracks up and down two different octaves and realizing his weakness, you grin.   You know your plan was to seem as harmless as possible, but it’s just too much fun teasing him.   “What thing, Your Highness? Your servant is merely showing you a small forest creature.”   “No! Stop!”   He scrambles and starts running away.   You chase after him while giggling manically. “Prince Jungkook! Where are you going!”   “Get the bug away from me!”   He turns over his shoulder with eyeballs nearly falling out of their sockets, face bright red, and you take the opportunity to toss the ladybug at him. Jungkook’s shrieks echo, pitched and earsplitting.   You’re forced to stop with how hard you’re laughing and by then, he’s ran for the hills, completely gone from sight.   Oh god. You can’t believe he’s so scared.    You can’t believe you were so scared — he’s just a kid.   Your giggles taper off as you wander the gardens by yourself. It’s freeing to stroll at your own pace without a brat demanding you to fetch sticks or barking at you to do this and that. It’s a chance to finally admire the surroundings.   You’re sure the first time Anastasia saw the castle, it became her dream home. The place is similar to the aesthetic background graphics of the game and it was always described as beautiful by all the characters. And it really is that way.   But this is also the place of her demise and possibly yours.    You’re sure the only time you’ll be able to enjoy the palace and be this carefree is right now.   You’re admiring the blooming carnations, peony and roses as you turn the corner. The figure standing by the sprouting fountain doesn’t register until after a delayed moment and your eyes lift to see a woman — mysterious in her gray dress. It’s simple attire, but the fabrics are layered on top of one another, light enough that they drape down and flow to the breeze. Her brunette hair is tied into a bun and as if she feels the pressure of your eyes, her bright irises turn towards you.   You realize you’re staring and you blink several times, approaching her politely.    She pulls her charcoal shawl closer to her and smiles. The light wrinkles around her kind eyes crease. “Are you lost, child?”   You shake your head. “No. I’m just looking.”   She crouches down to match your height, gazing at you tenderly. “Where are your parents?”   “My dad’s talking to the King.” You point off in the distance as curiosity eats at you. She doesn’t look like an ordinary worker but not a visitor of the castle either. “I’m Anastasia.”   She searches your expression as if she’s endeared by you. “That’s a beautiful name.”   “Thanks! Who’re you?”   She’s soft-spoken, voice above a quiet murmur, “My name is Erena Robane.”   You frown. The name rings a bell. “Lady Robane?”   “No.” Her laugh tinkles. “I’m no lady.”    Before you can press your mind any further and pick apart your brain at why her name sounds so familiar, she reaches into the small pouch she was carrying and hands you a wrapped piece of candy. “Would you like one?”   Your eyes light up at the pink square. “Yes, please!”    You know better, as an internal twenty seven year old, than to take candy from strangers, but the Duke and Duchess never give you any sweets. So you’ll happily take what you can.   Erena smiles and drops the treat into your outstretched palm.   Not wanting to risk getting it confiscated by Edith, Joan or your mother if you brought it home, you quickly unwrap it and throw it into your mouth. It’s peppermint and it’s pretty damn good.   The woman looks at you patiently, waiting for a reaction, so you give her a thumbs up and a “Yummy!”   She laughs faintly. “Do you like candy?”   “Yep!” You hold out both hands as if you’re trick-or-treating. “Can I have another one, please?”   Might as well seize the chance while you can. It’s a dog-eat-dog world.    “You have very good manners.” She smiles, taking another out of her endless pouch and dropping it in your hand. Oh man, you’re starting to really like this lady. “My son likes chocolate, but I only managed to get candy for today.”   You chew the hard candy in your cheek, crunching down on it. You hope it rots your teeth and makes Edith’s life a living nightmare when she has to deal with it. “Your son?”   Her lips part to speak. But she’s interrupted—   “Mom?”   By sheer coincidence and coincidence itself, a boy with floppy, brown hair turns the corner of the garden. Thin lips, but chubby cheeks and bright eyes of deep mocha. You’ve known him the second your eyes have laid on him. A younger form of the person you fear most.   Taehyung.   You gasp and immediately spin around, hoping he didn’t see you, pretending you didn’t see him.   “I have to go now!”    Before Taehyung’s mom can utter another word, you run away. You don’t notice how Taehyung slows as well, brows furrowed at your receding form.   To see Jungkook is one thing. But to see Taehyung, the one who will use, coerce and lead you to your doom, is another. Jungkook handed down your judgment, but Taehyung is the one who led you there.   He’s the villain.   //   “You did decently,” your mother informs a few days after the whole affair. “We might have to go to the palace more often from now on.”   You nod, unable to dwell in her approval, mind still lost in a daze.    Taehyung — a half prince born a year before Jungkook. He has the blood of a royal with his father as the King, but his mother is merely a palace maid. You remember that he seeks revenge for her death after she’s poisoned by the jealous Queen.   But if she’s still alive, that means it’ll happen soon.   This year.    Springtime.��   You’re slowly recalling the details of the event, the catalyst that begins Taehyung’s descent into madness, how he became the game’s villain. But you can’t involve yourself. You just can’t.   You shouldn’t have met any of them in the first place.   You shouldn’t get entangled in their story, in their lives. If you want to live, if you want to survive, you have to avoid Taehyung at all costs. So you can’t. You can’t. Can’t.   A day passes as you focus on your studies.   You can’t.   Another two days goes by, six meals eaten.   Can’t—   On the seventh, your silver spoon clanks noisily against the porcelain bowl, slipping from your grasps, dropping downwards in your deep trance that throbs your temples. Joan turns at the ruckus and you look at her, already standing up.   “I have to go to the castle.”   The guilt eating at you has won its battle.    “Pardon me?”   “Today. Right now.” You rush out of the room and down the hall, determination set in your strides. Maybe you can avoid this. Maybe if you do, he won’t become the game’s villain. Then he won’t be a threat to you, and you won’t be a threat to anyone. You’ll live and so will his mom who’s done nothing wrong.   The maid struggles to catch up to you. “My lady! Please! Wait! What do you mean?”   “I forgot something really important!”   “Y-You can’t just go. My lady! You must ask permission from the Duke and Duchess!”   “There’s no time to.” You’ve never been more serious and somber. There isn’t an inch of mischief, no childish selfishness. Twenty seven years has amounted to this very moment. And you use your status as the Duke’s daughter to command the girl. “Come with me. If the Duke or Duchess gets mad, I’ll take the blame.”   Joan sighs, annoyed as she looks around as if someone else could reason with you. But as you turn to her, looking her dead in the eye, she shifts on her feet and hesitantly calls for a carriage.   You’re in it before you can blink again.   There must be time. There hasn’t been any news yet. No reports of a death in the castle.   You can warn him. You can avoid this tragedy.    “We’re here, my lady,” Joan informs, peering out the window at the enormous stone walls and towers looming high above the clouds. The carriage doors open and she guides you out.    Your feet land onto the cobblestone.    But there isn’t any welcome. No guards that ask what your business here is. No servant passing by.   Instead, there’s chaos in the distance.    Your head whips to the noise and Joan shouts as you dash off towards it. Yet no one notices you in the midst of the pandemonium. No one would pay mind to a small child. You’re left to linger in the open halls, butlers that quickly walk past, maids whispering amongst themselves—   “Did you hear?”   Your head turns towards two girls.   “The King’s mistress just died!”   You came a moment too late.
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No one cries.   The arrangement is short and unluxurious, the bare minimum of what would be acceptable for a royal family. A priestess in front drones on impassively about the afterlife, but as you look around, no one grieves. After all, they wouldn’t shed tears for a mere maid.    This is merely a charade to quell away scandalous rumors and to give nobles an excuse to come to the castle and be acknowledged.   You’re overwhelmed in black, a tulle skirt and puffed sleeves. Your parents stand on either side of you, your father in a jacket with the house’s emblem and your mother with a veil covering the right side of her face. Like many others, your family has come for appearance sakes.   But for you, it’s different.   The woman inside the closed casket has shown you a kindness that you so seldom receive.   And because of your hesitation, because of your self-preservation and selfishness, this happened.   Once the burial ceremony is over, your parents mingle amongst the nobles, laughing cordially behind gloved hands as you follow after them and cutesy. It feels like you’re a show pony, brought around to show what the future of the Devereux looks like.   But after a while, you manage to slip away from the scrutiny.    And by sheer coincidence and coincidence only, you find him.   At first it’s the noise of heart wrenching sobs. It’s unrestrained wails and choked hiccups in between that attracts your attention. You twist through the familiar hedge corridors and the moment you turn the corner, your eyes lift to a small figure underneath an oak tree.    He sits alone. He cries to himself.    The boy with floppy, brown hair has his knees pulled together. He incessantly rubs at his eyes as if that alone could stop the tears that well and pour. He cries enough for the tens of people at the funeral, substituting their apathy with his anguish. His entire body wracks and the moment he whimpers “m-mom” in-between, it’s shaking to your core.    This is the beginning. The start of his path of destruction.   In this entire castle that stretches across the horizon, only his mother ever loved him. The half-prince. The Forgotten Prince. The one dirtied by regular red blood, not blue enough for the golden crown.   Taehyung mourns, vision blurred by his grief.   But as he rubs his eyes with his small fists, black shoes appear between the gaps of his hands.   He looks up. Your arm is extended in front of him.    Taehyung looks down to your folded, pink handkerchief. He looks stunned for a moment, as if he’s surprised that there was someone here. That someone actually heard him. That someone came.   He takes your handkerchief and sniffles.   “I’m sorry,” you murmur.    Sorry that she passed away, that he has to endure this, that you didn’t save her when you could’ve.   This isn’t just a game you’re playing anymore. All these people aren’t just characters.   You’re living a new life. And all these people have emotions, desires, thoughts of their own.   You’re not sure how you can comfort Taehyung. What you can say to make it better. “Your mother loved you a lot. I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to be crying so much by yourself.”   He hiccups, snivelling uncontrollably. “B-But if I don’t cry for her, who will?”   You don’t know what to say.   Tears continue to slip down his cheeks and as you linger awkwardly, you decide there isn’t much that you can say. So you sit beside him. You sit underneath the canopy of the tree and branches of rustling leaves, on the soft bed of grass, looking out at the garden.    This is all you can do.   You don’t notice the way Taehyung looks up in-between his mourning, glossy eyes pinpointed on the profile of your face.    The pair of you sit next to one another in the silence of his sniffles until it levels. Until he can breathe again—   “Anastasia!”   There’s a sharp call of your name, one that can only belong to your mother. You immediately come to your feet again as if a dog whistle has been blown. But as you hurry away, you turn over your shoulder. Your eyes connect with Taehyung’s brown ones, and for a moment you slow.   You leave a second later.   You twist down the hedges and turn the corner, nearly bumping straight into her. She looks down at you with her brows furrowed. “Where did you go?”   You smile. “I got lost.”   It’s futile. You know it now.   Trying to avoid the three that will lead you to your demise is like trying to wish you’d suddenly vanish off these lands. You know it won’t be the last time that you see Taehyung. It won’t be the last of Jungkook either. Or whoever the heroine will be. It seems like the more you try to run, the more you inadvertently become involved. But you’ll hold your head up high and face whatever is to come head on.
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hellfire-fist · 3 years
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Appreciation Post for the Future Pirate King and the Future Greatest Swordsman’s bond 🤝
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I believe the reason why I love Zoro and Luffy’s relationship so much is because it’s just so pure. From beginning till present, you still see how much they trust eo (and how it just gets stronger by the day), the show of respect for eo’s strength, and how Zoro always know where to get Luffy (If you’ve read the wano arc in the manga you would know what I mean), plus Luffy’s confidence in Zoro is delightful. I love that they don’t need to say much when they’re together and I love how Zoro just understands Luffy so much more than the others that he always seems to know what to say to him. 
I see some people try to downplay this by saying, “the other strawhats would do the same thing”, and yes I would agree, but you really can’t deny the fact that most acts of sacrifice/respect for Luffy is highlighted in Zoro’s character more so than the others. I get that a lot of people in the community likes the idea of equality in terms of the strawhats’ bonds with eo, most of all with Luffy, and I do love that concept as well but then again, Zoro always gets that emphasis. Their are a lot of instances where we see Zoro defend Luffy, but in this case I would refer to that time in Thriller Bark. I honestly think that Oda making Sanji interfere/try to take Zoro’s place as sacrifice was a brilliant choice. I say this because it showed us the difference between Zoro’s sacrifice and Sanji’s. With Zoro, he says his value/worth is on par with Luffy’s, that his dream is almost as big as his captain’s. Zoro throws his swords, which was honestly such a great symbolism for him ultimately sacrificing his dreams which was far more important than his life. On the other hand, Sanji addresses his sacrifice almost casually, and I’m sorry for stating it this way (English is not my native language), but I felt like he just phrased his statement in a “cool way”, I’m not saying it wasn’t worth anything, but the biggest theme in one piece are dreams. In that particular moment, with him saying that he would be “most feared by the marines in the future” as an incentive or as an exchange for Luffy’s head , it just felt very ‘eh’ compared to Zoro offering his dreams you know? but I do like that he tells Zoro, “whatever happened to your dream idiot!”, because it really showed how Sanji cared for him despite them always fighting with eo, and essentially how he cares for everyone in the crew (looking back at this makes me really appreciate Sanji and his arc more than ever). However, you see the difference in approach, Sanji always tries to be chivalrous, and we know his actions does mean a lot. But to him, his life wasn’t worth much, his statement of one day being the man most feared by the marines was quite unusual and a little out of character, but then we have to consider the fact that he likes to one up Zoro, and I’ve always felt that it was his intention here. I also took notice of the fact that Sanji’s statement was more general, he offers his life for everyone, he didn’t separate Luffy from the others. Sanji is a self-sacrificing idiot and honestly we love that for him. On the contrary, with Zoro—his act felt more momentous and substantial. Maybe it’s ‘cause of how he phrased his words, but whenever I try to think about that moment, it just makes me think, “damn, for him to say that...”, ‘cause his character, in terms of notoriety is almost always comparable to Luffy. He is the guy the side characters would think of as the captain they always say, “How can a man like him work for somebody?”. I like to think that this was a way to show us that Zoro wouldn’t have done that so easily or go that far for somebody else. He can give his life away like it’s nothing, yes, but him doing that for Luffy meant more because this was him giving his all away. Not to mention, it’s not just his dream but Kuina’s as well, and we all know how significant Kuina was to him, but he also gave that away. And in comparison to how he states his sacrifice, he really placed a lot of weight in mentioning Luffy. He even the mentions the crew almost as an afterthought, and even then he goes straight back to talking about Luffy again, “there is already no other way to save the crew!...If I can’t even protect my captain’s dream, then whatever ambition I have is nothing but talk!”. There’s also the fact that Sanji wasn’t really asking Kuma to do it, he just tells him to get it over with while standing and trying to act poised, even when his legs were shaking (Sanji best boi 🤧). Zoro, however, begged. He fucking begged and kneeled, and bowed his head, he completely submitted to Kuma in that moment, just so he can get the message across that ‘you can’t take him, take me instead’, this was such a fucking moment because ‘pride be damned, Luffy’s life is worth more than that’. This was without a doubt a moment for both Sanji and Zoro, like Brook then mentions in the next chapter, Sanji had the same resolution as Zoro, but I would say that Zoro’s execution of the whole thing really made the moment more profound and meaningful for me (for me okay), it just felt and meant more to me when I read and see the panel, I could bloody cry. Honestly, I still have a lot to say about this but I think I can stop there (~o ̄3 ̄)~
Why did I elaborate on this particular moment? The answer would be because to me, this was where I really saw how the bond between the two ran so deep. It took me aback and made me emotional in more ways than one. It’s like wbk but not really??? From “I’ll cut you if you get in my way” to “take my life in exchange for his”
ᶻᵒʳᵒ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᶜᵒⁿᵗʳᵃᵈᶦᶜᵗˢ ʰᶦᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᶦᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᴸᵘᶠᶠʸ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵘᵍ ʰᶦᵐ
Honestly, at this point whatever they have is canon. They are each other’s partner and no one can tell me otherwise. Zoro is the Rayleigh to Luffy’s Roger, period. 
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mussthemoose · 3 years
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.....drop the sunny meta.....plssssssss.....do it do it do it.....also what do you think about Sunnys mom? No one ever talks about her but I ahve feelings
Ps don’t leave me hanging!! o/
Hey there! Finally got around to giving this an answer because I’ve procrastinated on it enough! Here’s a few things I’m going to drop that’s personal headcanons and stuff from what I gathered from the game:
-People say Sunny is a good listener, and the reason for that isn’t just because he’s quiet, it’s because Sunny has a very active imagination and whenever he listens to someone talking, he seems to almost be making a whole little scene in his head -He doesn’t express a lot, but you can always tell he gets the meaning behind what you’re saying once you learn to read his expressions -It’s also a sign he really likes you, because the space inside Sunny’s head is very precious to him so him letting your words roam free there of his own choice is just a huge mark of trust for him -In order of people who can read Sunny: Basil, Mari, Kel, tie between Hero and Aubrey. -They can all actually ready him pretty damn well, it mostly comes down to who can notice the smaller signs. -Basil puts as much love and effort into noticing the little things for Sunny as he does for his most loved plants, and he has a lot of experience with noticing when something small is wrong in something that doesn’t give many signs about it -Mari is second, but it’s a very close second. She’s been with Sunny since he was a baby and puts so much love and effort into understanding him. The only reason she is slightly lower than Basil is, in part, because of how well she’s known Sunny in a paradoxical way. -Sunny is after all, at the end of the day, still someone who can be tricky to read, and sometimes it’s easy to look at past ways he’s acted and think it’s just a repeat of that instead of something new. Like a parent who doesn’t realize that they’re using personal knowledge that’s 7 years old to figure out what you like. -Hero and Aubrey can ready Sunny quite well, they just don’t notice the small signs as much. It doesn’t make them any worse friends for that, but Hero tends to take people on their word and Aubrey trusts her friends, and hopes they’d let her know if they needed help or were hurting. -Kel is...an interesting case. You’d think he’d be the densest for reading Sunny, and sometimes, in some ways, he is. But also I think he’d be one of the few to realize how much Sunny was hating the violin. -Everyone else I think, from what we see, seem to think that he’s just being Sunny, worried about doing something with these expectations but thinking that’s just how he normally acts, and he must obviously love getting to play with his sister Mari! -But Kel is so honest and straight forward that he’d put the pieces together, how Sunny has to be pushed to play for them, how sad he looks to have to leave to practice with the tutor, the look he gets sometimes staring at Mari. -He still doesn’t say anything because even though Sunny seems sad and upset, he knows what it’s like to feel like that to do something for an older sibling who’s just so much better, so for once he lets it slide because he also trusts that Mari is a good sibling and would stop him if something was seriously wrong, like when Kel almost got to the point of throwing up in the hotdog eating competition and Hero stopped him (but still managed to win...) -Later, realizing what happened later post-truth, Kel reaffirms to himself that he’s always going to be honest when he sees one of his friends hurting. Never again. -Sunny’s favourite breakfast is that oatmeal with the dinosaur eggs that melt to reveal dinosaurs when it’s warm and his absolute favourite thing is to pretend that he’s digging them up from a sand dune, hence the whole dino dig. -He does this well into his adult years still -Kel got him a pirate eyepatch after noticing this (Sunny makes sure to dig it out whenever Kel visits, it makes him happy...and maybe Sunny happy a bit too). To stop this post from getting too incredibly big, some Sunny’s Mom meta real quick: -I’ve read a lot of meta, and I personally think she didn’t know the truth. -Sunnysviolin did a really great few posts about autistic Sunny which I heavily agree with, and I heavily agree with the fact Sunny’s parents probably aren’t the best fit for the kids they got (it’s really easy to code them as Asian-American and there is a lot there when it comes to non-neurotypical kids) -And while there is a decently common consensus that Sunny’s dad has a lot of disappointment in Sunny for not being like Mari, I feel like Sunny’s mom was one of those ‘bless her heart she’s trying but she really does not understand at all’ -I feel like she’s tried, honestly tried, but didn’t have as much time to try to look into this stuff that Mari had, or the drive to think she needed to do so heavily in a sense. -Mari loved Sunny so much and seemed to want to do so much of the work anyways, and it’s so much effort to even get a proper idea of how Sunny’s mind works so, I think she’d end up being happy to have Mari be a sort of translator for her, more or less -She wouldn’t excessively baby him, though she’d likely act a bit much because she doesn’t really understand how his mind works so she goes with what she knows instead of what’s best -And at the point where we start the game, I think the whole ‘mommy’ thing where she seems to almost baby him comes after Mari is gone. -Her Husband is gone, Mari is gone, and her last son barely seems to be able to take care of himself unless she holds his hand to do it (not because he can’t do it, but Sunny seems to have trouble sometimes finding enough care to put in the bare minimum effort to survive). -It seems more likely to me that she, like some other people, tried to mentally distance herself from everything. -Her sun is all she has left and all he wants to do is sleep, she’s entirely out of her comfort zone and she doesn’t have any lifelines. -I think there’s a part of her that knows this too, that knows that this situation isn’t good, and isn’t fine, but what’s she even supposed to do? She doesn’t know, so she...just keeps going on. -It’s horrible, everything is wrong, she’s hurting and suppressing and she just wants Mari back so so much, she wants her husband back, she even wants Sunny back because at least back then he’d look at her when she said she loved him. -But they’re not coming back, Mari is never coming back and she knows that without her she has no chance in figuring out how to pull in the other two. -Sunny’s all she has left, and sometimes she doesn’t even known for certain if he counts at this point in the bad endings she gets an answer, he did. He counted for so much and now she has nothing
-Sunny’s mom once yelled “Ayo, the pizza is here!” and Mari almost tripped down the stairs with Sunny. They all had a laugh at it after a gentle scolding to be more careful. -Sunny always takes the steps extra carefully whenever he picks up food delivery with his friends post-true end, none of them say anything about the way he grips the handrails hard enough to leave a mark on the way down
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Held Back - Harry Hook x Ben’s sibling! Reader - Part 1
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Note; before we start, “reader” is non-binary but since I've always imagined Auradon is pretty… old-fashioned and close-minded, they really don’t realize they are NB but know they don’t like being referred to as a “girl” or a “female”. Also, I know “realistically” Adam and Belle wouldn’t neglect their 2nd kid for the first n shit but it’s called a plot point and they are like that for a reason.
Tried to not use “readers” pronouns at all until we get to the good shit where they are like “oh, that’s what that is?”
Also, this will be a 2-part story, the 1st takes place in D2, while the 2nd will take place after D2 and into D3 :3
OH, slight smut in this fic….yeah…it doesn’t get detailed-detailed, but it gets…heated…yeah…if you don’t like even reading this that hint at sex then I’ll put warnings at the beginning and end of those scenes :3 otherwise this is a pretty “safe” fic
Enjoy~
=
Being the daughter, and the 2nd child, to Beast and Belle, wasn’t…what everyone assumed it was. Everyone expected that since you were their 2nd kid, one that wasn't in line for the throne, that you could do anything, get away with anything. That you could just shrug and say ‘oops’ and all would be forgiven. But it wasn’t. It was constant rules and upkeep, never able to run free and scrape your knee when you fell off the tree you had climbed, never able to just scream as you ran along the shoreline, soaking the seawater into your clothes.
Always sit up straight, never cross your legs, never run, never frown, never sneer, don’t talk back, don’t yell, just sit there and -
Be perfect
For the early years of your life, you had loved Ben. Ben your 5-minute older twin brother, Ben who always cared about you, Ben who hid the vase you had broken when you were chasing him through the castle halls when told not to.
Ben; who had refused to let you be pushed aside.
But resentment grew when your parents would always favor him, always praise him; for the bare minimum.
If he got a B in his project? Amazing! Take him out for ice cream.
You? Getting a B+? scolding’s and being told to do better next time, with your dessert taken away for the week.
While you held this resentment for him, you couldn’t hate him, not really, not when he would sneak you his leftover ice cream that was your favorite flavor, one that he hated but your parents didn’t know, not when he would run into your room on stormy nights to make sure you were okay.
Not when he obviously loved you so much.
But you wanted more, you needed more…just something to fill the gap that your parents were leaving. A gap that for some reason they couldn’t see was growing bigger every time they turned their backs on you and turned to Ben.
You were a loner too…most of your “friends” were actually Bens friends, Audrey being one of the few that usually hung out with you outside of Ben and Chad, she was petty as hell sometimes and pretty passive-aggressive to those she didn’t like but she had never seen you as “Bens sister” or “the second child of King beast and Queen Belle”
She just saw you as (y/n), her friend.
When the VKs came, it was almost a relief, finally, the attention was off of you. With Bens coronation and even your parents paying more attention to the new kids instead of picking apart what was wrong with your English essay.
You had tried talking to them, but all four of them were pretty off Standish, and in their own group almost all the time, but after they had chosen good, you and Evie had started talking and had grown a small friendship, one that was nothing compared to what she had with Ben and Mal but you didn't feel as lonely anymore.
Mal had…. acknowledged your existence…yeah, the two of you didn’t really interact much. And you were fine with that.
Especially after Ben told you she tried to memory spell him (you had almost stormed into her dorm guns blazing). Then soon after that, Ben and the other vks were going back to the isle, and you were utterly bored and needed to do something other than sit in your room and disappoint your parents by doing nothing so why don’t go to the isle and disappoint your parents for a good reason!
So now, you stood at the stairway below the core four’s hideout, happy you had taken your denim jacket with you as the isle chill set in.
“so?” Evie asked Ben as he solemnly climbed back down the stairs, his eyes at the ground “where’s Mal?” Ben shook his head, pushing past Evie and Jay and walking down the ally.
“she's not coming back” he muttered before disappearing. You kept your eyes on him in worry, ignoring the other three’s worry over Mal who was safe and sound in her little hideout while your brother, who knew how to hold a sword but sucked at hand to hand, disappeared into the alleys of the isle. 
You moved to go after him but stopped as a much taller, leaner shadow took Bens place in a blink and walked toward you. “hey!” you yelled, the vks stopping in their Mal rant and turning to you “Ben’s gone”
Evie's face melted from worry for Mal to worry for Ben as she stepped next to you and called for Ben as the tall shadow got closer “Ben…Ben!”
It seemed they thought the new shadow was Ben as Evie sighed in relief and looked away, setting her hand on your shoulder “Ben don’t scare us like that!”
“Don’ scare yeh~?” the tall shadow stepped into the light, the teens bright blue eyes sending shocks down your spine as you looked into them “That’s my specialty ~” he purred, his eyes flashing between you and Jay. Evie breathed out his name in annoyance.
Harry…what a nice name...
“what did you do with Ben!” Jay stepped in front of you, not liking the way Harry was eyeing you up. Harry seemed to no understand what Jay was asking before he gasped, turning slightly to point down the ally.
“oh~! We nicked ‘im~!” he nodded as if he was explaining something to a toddler “and if yeh want ta’ see ‘im again~ have Mal come to the chip shop tonight~” his eyes darkened as he gestured to the group with his hook “Alone…Uma wants” his tone lightened again, his eyes looking back at you with curiosity “a little visit~”
He looked at jay again and pursed his lips, looking up and down “aw Jay~” he tilted his head and gave a teasing grin “seems like ye’ lost yer touch~” Jay growled and tried to tackle Harry, but was stopped by Evie. Harry held his hands up and giggled, turning to you and bowing slightly “your highness~” he purred, winking at you and blowing a kiss as he walked away.
The vks mostly ignored his last few actions and Jay hopped up the side of the stairs to get to Mal, while you watched Harry disappear into the ally, your heart going miles a minute.
“wow” you muttered, shaking your head to get rid of the fluffy feeling in your head “get a grip (y/n), he just kidnapped your brother!”
You quickly followed Evie and Carlos as the gate door of the stairway lifted and ascended to the hideout.
-
Leaving you on your own in the hideout was probably the worst choice the vks had made that entire night, as you had nothing to entertain yourself with so you just left and traveled around.
You had somehow walked from the hideout to the docks, and if you remembered correctly, this was the pirate's territory. So, you spun back around to get your ass back to the hideout but stopped as two sets of lust-filled eyes stared back.
But unlike Ben, you smirked as you crouched into a fighting stance, you had taken almost every self-defense class you could. For more than one reason but mainly because even in Auradon there were still nasty people.
The bigger one of the two men rushed at you, but ultimately flopped to the floor as you pivoted on your right foot and swung your left leg around, hitting him directly in the temple and knocking him out.
You grinned at the other man and waved your fingers at him “come get me~” you jeered, laughing to yourself as he yelled and rushed at you.
But before he could take a step closer, a silver hook whacked over his head and knocked the second man out. You pouted and glared at the new person, not caring if it was the teen that had kidnapped your brother an hour ago “hey!”
“hey~!” he mocked back, a teasing smile on his face. He stepped over the two men and curled his hook under your chin, his eyes drifting over your face “now what's a little princess-” you twitched at the nickname “-like yeh traveling alone on the isle~ it's dangerous yeh know?”
You forced down the heat that wanted to cover your face and shrugged, mentally smirking as Harry rose his brow “well…they left me alone in the hideout and I got bored…can't blame me for wanting some excitement eh?”
He squinted at you for a minute, as if he was trying to figure you out…then he finally spoke “yer different than’ I thought yeh would be” he muttered softly, the cool metal of his hook drifting away from your chin and back at his side.
You crossed your arms and cocked your hip, giving the pirate a smirk “what did you think I was going to be like?”
“prissy, stuck up, wouldn’t touch the isle even with a hundred’ foot pole” he shrugged, licking his lips as you rolled your eyes and brew a lock of hair out of your face.
“well as you’ve just experienced, that’s not true” Harry laughed through his nose, looking up towards the barrier and running his free hand through his hair.
“aye…” his shockingly blue eyes drifted back down to meet yours. “so why even come ta the isle? Fer beasty boy? Malsy?”
You looked down at your shoes…you really had no reason to come along did you? Ben and the others could have easily handled getting back Mal without you…so why?
“because if my parents are going to disappointed in me it might as well be for a real reason” you muttered, letting your arms drop to your side.
You felt Harry's eyes on you as you stared hard at the ground, willing yourself not to cry. “that sucks” you looked at Harry through your lashes, seeing him staring at you with sad eyes “I thought…I thought all Bora-don parents loved their kids” he laughed uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his head.
“well…they are still human…and just because they are hailed as good people, don’t mean they are good parents” you sighed, crossing your arms again and looking away from Harry's eyes.
“wait…Bora-don?” you laughed, turning back to Harry with a grin. He seemed to be relieved of the subject change and a sharp grin grew on his face.
“aye, it's boring, so, Bora-don~” he giggled, rocking on his heels a bit. A few moments passed then he held his hand out to you.
You stared at it, then him for a few moments. “come on, let's give yer dumbass parents a real reason ta be disappointed in yeh” you smiled and took his hand, laughing quietly to yourself as Harry tugged you away from the docks and toward wherever he was taking you.
-
Your legs were in Harry's lap as the two of you cackled into the dead of night, hands stained with paint and rotten food. Harry had taken you for a night of chaos, destroying vendors with paint, pranking the twin sons of Gaston’s with balloons filled with rotting eggs, and just wreaking havoc in the streets of the isle.
Harry's arm went behind your back as you fell to the side slightly, his bicep pushing against your arm. “thank you Harry” you hummed as you finally calmed down, giving him a closed-lipped smile. “this…this really meant a lot to me” he stared at your lips for a moment before a soft, unsure, smile grew on his lips.
“it was no biggie princess,” your lip twitched at the title “I was kinda already planning ta do all those things anyway…thought it was pretty fun ta do it with someone instead of by myself” you laughed a bit, leaning back on your hands and closing your eyes.
“I get that”  it was silent for a few moments, just you and Harry on top of the abandoned building.
“yeh reacted when I called yeh princess” you twitched again “yeh did it again…is something up with the word?”
You sighed, then opened your eyes, staring into Harry for a moment then looking away “I…I don’t like being referred to like that…it’s not the title its…what it refers to… it's hard to explain”
Harry tilted his head, his hand going on your knee to gently push you to continue “is it the royalty thing?”
“no” you dismissed quickly “its…the princess thing…its…well…ugh” you took your legs off Harry's lap and switched to sitting on your knees, looking at Harry with serious eyes “I've never told anybody this and you have to swear you won't tell anybody else after I tell you” Harry blinked wildly for a moment then looked at you confused.
“lass” you twitched again, making Harry pause for a moment “darling, unless it’s something that will help bring down the barrier or take over the world, I won't tell a soul” you snickered for a moment before you took a deep breath, preparing to tell a person you had just meet that day, one that had kidnapped your brother no less, your greatest secret.
It didn’t help that you felt more comfortable with him in five minutes than you had with your parents for the last 16 years. “I…don’t like it when I'm referred to with girl-like titles or…pronouns” you winced, hands going to block anything that might come your way.
“oh, yeh don’t like she-her pronouns where they are used in a way to refer ta yeh?” Harry clarified, you looked at him slightly odd, expecting some sort of relation or comment, but…it was as if you had just told him you didn’t like a vegetable instead of you not being comfortable with your gender pronouns?
“uh…yeah basically?” you rubbed the back of your head, the other hand picking at the loose threads on your pants.
“yeah, it's not that uncommon ‘ere, I think Desiree is non-binary and one of the other crew members is gender-fluid…not that it's not a big deal but…why have yeh never told anybody else about that? Not even yer brother?” your wide-eyes looked away, hands clenching into your shirt “Darling?”
“um…Auradon isn’t really…accepting of most things…I didn’t even know that…non-binary and gender-fluid were a thing…what do they mean?” you looked back at Harry who seemed to be very surprised “what?”
“nothin’ I'm just surprised tha’ the place of happily ever after’s is kinda…shit?” he laughed, rubbing the back of his head “okay lemme remember what Desiree told me um…Okay non-binary is when you don’t…identify as the gender yeh were at birth so say…okay take Desiree as an example, they’ve been told they’ve been a girl since they were born but they’ve always felt like that didn’t fit, but being a boy didn’t feel right either. so that’s what non-binary is. It's that yeh are neither male nor female yeh are…well you, and most of the time, as far as I know, they use they-them pronouns instead of she or he. but I think some of them use she and they, or he and they…just depends on who uses the pronouns n stuff.”
That…that sounded right…you had never liked female pronouns on you, and ages ago, when you tested male pronouns to yourself, that never felt right either…could you be non-binary? “um, what about gender-fluid?” Harry took a deep breath and looked up.
“Okay, I’m not as knowledgeable on that since the one who actually told me about it didn’t tell me everything…anyway, its under the same...umbrella i think its called as non-binary but genderfluid is when you are both genders, not at the same time…I think, but one day yeh can be female, the other a male, sometimes neither, but that’s what gender-fluid is. They don’t have a fixed gender”
While that sounded interesting…it didn’t feel right to you, you never felt like a girl, and you never felt like a boy… “I think I’m non-binary” you breathed, feeling like a weight was lifting off your entire body. You grinned as Harry smiled.
“awesome, welcome to the club darling” you let yourself fall forward into Harry’s chest, who stiffened slightly and slowly wrapped his arms around you.
“thank you” you muttered quietly, rubbing your cheek into his collarbone. His entire body was still as you cuddled into him, before he relaxed and laid his cheek on your head.
“yer welcome darling” he whispered back, one of his hands going up to cup the back of your head, thumb gently rubbing back and forth.
You jumped as a sudden loud noise crashed below you, and you further ducked into Harry, yelping slightly as he tipped back and the two of you ended up in an odd pile on the rooftop.
Harry tightened his arms around you, his entire body tense again as he listened for any threats. He let out a soft sigh as the high-pitched yowl of a cat rang from where the loud noise came and the animal scuttled off. “yer fine” he whispered, letting his head hit the roof as you sat up and looked around “jus’ a cat”
-smut starts here so if you don’t want to read anything that either includes it or hints at it just scroll till you get to another warning, but this does has some plot points in it soo scroll at ur own risk-
You nodded slightly, twisting around to look at the bleak buildings of the isle. you felt something beneath your legs and you glanced down, feeling heat creep into your face as you realized you were straddling Harry's thigh, it seemed he didn’t fully realize you were doing it as well, his leg rubbing against…well your…area.
You squeaked as he pushed his leg up further and tipped forward, your hands reaching out and slamming next to Harry's head to catch yourself.
His eyes flashed open, red building on his cheeks as your faces were suddenly only two inches apart. “um” you looked to the side, biting your lip “s-sorry” Harry glanced down, the blush spreading to his ears as he realized what the pressure against his leg was. He laid his leg flat and let out a short laugh.
“uh…” you locked eyes again, and a strong shiver was sent down your spine as you looked into his sparkling ocean blue eyes.
You could feel an ache between your legs begin to grow as you lifted yourself back up and hovered over Harry's hips. Harry slowly sat up, stopping inches away from your face, his eyes drifting to your lips for a moment then looking back up at you. “I-“ you whispered, biting your lip as a devious idea came to mind “I have…an idea”
“oh,” Harry whispered back, leaning a bit closer, his hands sliding forward on the ground and resting on your thighs. “Wha’?”
“you know what would really disappoint my parents?” you grinned, your hands reaching up from your sides and gripping onto Harry's jacket, pulling him toward you a bit.
He grinned back, looking down at your lips again “wha’ would tha’ be?”
You leaned in, lips only an inch from his “sleeping with someone they would hate” you could almost feel the wide grin that spread on his lips.
“sounds an excellent idea~” he purred, hands flashing up to your shoulders as yours curled around his neck and pulled him into a hard kiss, teeth clashing and faces warm.
Harry's leg arched up against your butt and forced you forward again, your lips parted with a gasp as Harry leaned back with you. he wrapped his arms around your torso, pressing your chest into his and leaning down to nip at your neck “Harry” you breathed, pressing your lips together as Harry's hands drifted down to your butt and pushed it against his hips, an odd hardness pressing against the ache between your legs. You let out a low whispering moan as he ground against you, his lips smirking against your neck as you started to meet his hips in tandem.
“that’s it darling” he purred, trailing up your neck and sucking on your jaw “jus’ like tha’” you whimpered, ducking your head down and burning into Harry's neck as Harry's hips started to go harder and faster against you. You let out small gasps as your hips twitched and ground back down into Harry's, who let out small groans against your shoulder.
“hang on hang on” Harry grabbed your hips, stopping you and sitting up. One of his hands reached up to the back of your neck and pulled you back, lips crashing into yours in a bruising kiss. His hips started again, the heat between your legs almost becoming unbearable as you trust against them to get rid of the ache.
Harry nipped at your lip, smirking as you opened at his request and tilted his head to deepen the kiss. He sucked at your lip, dragging your tongue into his mouth. You sighed at the feeling, tightening your grip on his jacket as you let him just play with your tongue.
He pulled back, smirking at the trail of saliva that still connected your lips. “shall I take yeh to my apartment yer highness~ yeh should be taken in a place of privacy, not a damned rooftop.” Your hazy mind yelled at you to go with him and you nodded, yelping slightly as Harry grabbed your thighs and stood with ease, your legs locking around his waist. “I’ll take good care of yeh darling~”
-
You let out a breathless gasp as your back hit his bed, the larger teen pouncing on top of you, not waiting for you to stop bouncing, and pressed another bruising kiss to your lips.
You heard him unzip his jacket and throw it across his room, the chain across the back making a loud sound as it hit the wall. He pulled away from you for a moment to rip off his sword sheath and shirt. You felt your face burn as his pecks and abs came into sight, slowly reaching out to trail your fingers against his scars as he pulled his shirt over his head.
You felt him shiver as you brushed your knuckle over his perked nipple and gripped onto his bicep, biting your lip at the look in his eyes as he smirked down at you.
“before we start” he rasped in a low tone, making you press your thighs together to relieve the ache that pulsed “do you really want ta do this?”
“yes” you answered immediately, smiling at his question, good to know that even after you had gone this far, he still asked for consent. He smiled back and leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, noses touching.
“Jus’ tell me ta stop, and I will” you nodded and pulled his lips down into yours, immediately opening your mouth and clashing your tongue with his.
Within seconds your jacket was taken off and Harry pushed your top up above your breasts, unclipping your bra from the back and pushing that over your breasts as well.
You pushed at his chest, Harry immediately pulling away and raising his brow, laughing slightly as you sat up and discarded your top and bra. You pulled him back into the kiss, groaning into his as his hips dipped and pressed into yours again.
He pulled away for a split moment, making you whine in objection and tug on his hair. He leaned down and whispered into your ear, lips brushing against your skin.
“I'll make sure yeh won't be able ta walk properly tomorrow~”
-
Harry started up at the ceiling, his fingers gently trailing up and down your back. Almost every inch of him ached, from the reddening hickeys on his neck, torso, and hips, the scratches on his arms, back, and torso, to the bitemark on his neck.
He looked out his window, noting it was pitch black outside. He sighed and turned his head into you, curling his other arm around you and tugging you tighter into his side, breathing in the scent of your (fav shampoo).
He didn’t know why, but from the moment he had first seen you, your curious eyes peeking from behind Jay's shoulder, he had felt something flutter within him. He wasn’t able to stop thinking about you from then on, even as he taunted Ben in the lost revenge’s brig, unable to get those hypnotic (e/c) eyes out of his head.
He couldn’t ignore the genuine happiness when he saw you again, taking down those goons with ease and confidence. He couldn’t ignore the feeling in his chest when you laughed, the intense fluttering when you smiled at him.
The way heat rushed to his cheeks when you hugged him.
The passion he felt as he looked down at your writing body as he was deep inside you.
-Alright! Yall who don’t like reading smut/stuff that hints at it are good! You may continue reading!-
He shouldn’t feel this way, not for the child of the king that had sent his father to the isle, and dooming hundreds of kids to a floating prison just for being the children of villains. He shouldn’t feel this way about the sibling of the king they had kidnapped and were holding for ransom.
He had only heard of this type of feelings from stories of the heroes of Bora-don, how they had somehow fallen in love within seconds of meeting the other. He had never understood it, calling it stupid that someone would fall in love with someone they just met.
He understood it now, the ache in his chest when he thought of you being hurt when the villains took over the world after Uma got the wand and freed them all. He only had one word to assign it to.
Love.
His grip on your waist tightened, and he buried his face in your hair. He didn’t know if he would ever see you again after today, so he would treasure the moments he had with you now.
You groaned slightly in your sleep, your hand that wasn’t trapped under his pillow reaching up and curling around his neck, pulling yourself further into his neck, your nose pushing into the dip between his shoulder and neck.
He pressed a kiss to your head and closed his eyes, huffing slightly as he realized he felt completely content by your side.
-
You grumbled as beams of light pushed through your closed eyes, you pushed off Harry's chest and glared at the window, reaching to close the curtain that half covered it, huffing as you realized you couldn’t reach it from your spot buried in Harry's side.
You stilled as Harry's arm reached past you and closed the curtain, leaving the room in calmly lit darkness. He put his hand on your head and pushed it back onto his chest, thumb gently caressing the back of your head. “morning” you rasped, tilting your head to rest your chin on Harry's pecs and smiling at the slowly awakening pirate.
“morning darling” he rasped back, his sleepy ocean blue eyes staring back at you. He slowly sat up, shifting you to sit in his lap as he shook his head to force himself to wake up. “wha’ time is it” he grumbled, raising his brow as you reached behind him for your pants, that were hanging off his bed frame, and pulled out your phone.
“8:30” you set your phone on the nightstand and flopped back into Harry's chest, tightly wrapping your arms around him. “what time is the…thing?”
“12” he hummed, pressing his cheek to your head and holding onto you “so…”
“three and a half hours” you did the math for him, pouting as he pulled you back slightly and looked into your eyes.
“Uma wanted me at the ship at nine darling…” you sighed, looking at your lap as you realized your time with the handsome pirate was almost up.
He pressed a kiss to your head and pulled his blankets around you, covering your nakedness and getting out of the bed, aware of your eyes on his butt as he walked over to his dresser.
“Please tell me it wasn’t just me” he paused as he slid his underwear over his hips and looked over at his shoulder at you, eyes widening as he saw a droplet of water appear from behind your hair and fall onto the blanket “please tell me it wasn’t just me that felt something”
He was silent for a few moments, biting his lip as his heart raced with the realization that you felt the same way he did.
He stared at you for a few moments before turning back to his dresser and opening the small box on top and pulling out a necklace.
He turned and walked towards you, giving you a soft smile as he sat in front of you and gently lifted the tread around your neck, trailing his fingers down it and holding the small charm in his fingertips.
You glanced down at it and gasped, the charm was a small metal hook with a small red gem in the middle of the bulb. “this is something I’ve had fer awhile” Harry whispered, looking back up at you and bonking his forehead into yours “Gil made it for meh a long time ago, but it…it didn’t feel right on me…but I kept it cause it felt like it had a purpose…I guess that purpose was ta be on yeh” you sniffed as your vison blurred “what I’m saying is…yes, it wasn’t jus’ you, I felt something too”
He tilted your chin up with his finger, softly smiling at you and leaning in slightly “a feeling I’ve only heard in yer Bora-don tales” you gasped slightly at that, heart going a thousand miles a minute as you realized he had felt the same way you did since you had first seen him last night in the ally “it sounds stupid” he chuckled, looking off for a moment “I never believe those tales of love at first sight or that type of shit but…” he looked back into your eyes, hand trailing from your chin to the back of your neck “I was proved wrong”
He pulled you into a sweet, soft kiss, your eyes closing as he slowly moved his lips against yours, his other hand coming up and taking your hand that wasn’t holding the blanket.
Your mind went hazy as the world around you melted away at the taste of Harry's bruised lips, giving you the softest kiss you had ever gotten from anyone.
He pulled back for a moment, pressing another soft kiss to your lips before sitting back and opening his eyes, smiling as you kept yours closed and swayed slightly “(y/n)” he whispered, realizing he had to go very soon if he wanted to make sure you got back to the core four safely, and make it to the ship on time “ye have ta go now”
You slowly opened your eyes and pouted, tilting forward and hugging Harry tightly “I know, but It's too dangerous for yeh here love, get dressed, and I’ll walk ye back to the hideout” you shook your head against his chest but obeyed after he clicked his tongue and picked one of your legs up and let it drop on the floor.
He pressed a kiss to your forehead and stood, grabbing his clothes that had been tossed around in the night and quickly getting dressed, grumbling about his belts that had somehow disappeared.
“under the bed” you snorted, laughing as Harry paused and dropped to his knees and looked under the bed, muttering some curses to himself as he pulled out the two black-brown belts and attached them to his hips.
You sighed as you ran your fingers over the purple hickeys all over your neck and torso, whistling slightly at the dark bite mark on your ribs. You mentally thanked your past self as you pulled your turtle neck over your head and smoothed it down. “yeh ready darling?” you nodded over to your shoes and picked them up, walking over to Harry's bed to put them on.
You finished lacing them up and jumped slightly as Harry's hand appeared in your vision. You looked up slightly, biting your lip as he was fully geared up, a tricorn hat on his head, and a blue headwrap hiding his fluffy back hair. He had lined his eyes thick making the blue pop. You took his head and stood, the two of you walking out of his apartment and towards the hideout.
-
You stopped just a little less than a block away from the hideout, Harry taking off his hat and holding it in front of your faces as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips “I’ll see yeh later yer highness” he whispered with a smile, he took a step back and bowed low, flipping his hat on his head as he stood.
You shared a sad smile and Harry walked away. You watched him for a moment before you called after him, he turned with a raised brow “stay safe…please” you smiled as he nodded.
“as yeh wish” he turned away and walked toward the wharf, leaving you to return to the hideout alone, the cold metal of the hook charm against your chest reminding you that you might never see him again after today.
-
You never did see him again that day, being forced to stay with the car as the others went to get Ben.
It had been a week since cotillion, and you stared at yourself in the mirror, dark bags under your eyes as the clock read 2 am.
It had been hard…hearing yourself being referred to as “she” or “her” or “the sister of king ben” when you had finally found out who you were.
After you had gotten back you had scoured the internet to look up the terms Harry had told you. Non-binary…’Non-binary people not only do not identify as the gender they were assigned at birth; they do not identify with the male or female gender at all’
You were non-binary, and it was so hard to hear yourself be misgendered after years of feeling uncomfortable being referred to as a ‘girl’ then finally figuring yourself after meeting Harry. you thought of telling the core four, but you were scared that they would ask about how you found out, and then you would have to spill the beans about Harry.
You didn’t know what it meant to be non-binary but…this was your journey right? As long as you felt it was right…it had to be the right path…right? You glanced at the scissors on the counter, then back at yourself in the mirror, frowning at your long hair that your mother had demanded that you never cut dramatically, in fear that you would be seen as a boy.
…well fuck that.
You grabbed your scissors in one hand, your hair in the other, and pulled it to the side. You closed your eyes as you held the scissors over your hair.
*snip!*
You hardly looked as you chopped off your long hair, the locks falling on your feet and bathroom floor as you did.
You took a deep breath as you set down the scissors again and quickly looked at yourself, breath-stopping as you did.
“oh” you breathed, leaning forward towards the mirror and reaching up to touch your choppy short hair “...there you are” the cut was ugly and rough but…it felt right…you smiled, running your hands through your hair.
A thought came to mind, and you ran into your room to grab a baggy button-up shirt you had stolen from Ben months ago and quickly threw it over your tank top and buttoned it up.
You took a deep breath and stepped in front of your mirror, your eyes burning as you felt like you were seeing yourself for the first time “there you are” you whispered again, reaching up and grabbing the hook charm as you closed your eyes.
Your name was (y/n), and you were non-binary.
And if that disappointed your parents? Or anyone else in Auradon? Fuck em.
If you were proud of yourself that was all that mattered.
-end of part 1-
2nd parts gonna be after d2 and into D3 with (y/n) telling Ben and the C4 about them being NB and doing things to help themselves feel more like themselves…yep :D hopefully, I did this fic right and represented those who are non-binary correctly, I used the knowledge I had and did some research to make sure I didn’t type any stupid shit.
Oh also enjoy this little sketch dump I did while writing this, it's not (y/n) exactly, but just how I envisioned the “character” if it wasn’t a blank slate “character” lol, and yes they do got a pirate look going on…that’s the point XD they take inspo for their fashion from Harry/pirates.
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@lunanight2012 @daughter-of-the-stars11
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@rintheemolion @thecaptainsgingersnap
@verboetoperee @imtryingthisout
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danny-chase · 3 years
Note
Big Brother instinct, Dick and either Cass, Gar, Danny Chase, Steph, Kara, Rose, or anyone else u want
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Batgirl (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dick Grayson & Cassandra Cain, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne Characters: Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain, Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Dick grayson centric, Fire, Burns, hair styling, Ice Cream, Hurt/Comfort, Late Nights, Fluff and Angst, Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Batfamily Dynamics (DCU), Missions Gone Wrong, Good Sibling Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain is bad at feelings, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings Series: Part 11 of Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:
Dick talks with Cass after a mission doesn't go as planned.
Fic under cut
“Argh!” Dick snaps back to attention as Bruce’s angry grunt rattles through the cave. The few bats still in for the night stir, their wings rustling in the distance. An avalanche of papers fly off of Bruce’s desk, and his grizzled form slumps forward, hands firmly planted on the table. His shoulders sag under some unknown strain; as if he’s carrying the weight of the sky.
“Hmm.” Dick blinks back another wave of exhaustion, he’s not working on a case – but Bruce is – and company always makes working more fun. Besides, Bruce is on a time limit and Alfred can’t stop him from escaping his room. So. Here he is. He took an oath - it’s his job to help.
Dick’s eleven and Bruce’s a pillar of reassurance – a precariously stacked pile of rocks constantly on the verge of crumbling. He has no idea how to pick up the pieces. No idea how to seal the cracks. “Bruce?” He mumbles, swinging his legs off his spinny chair. Bruce doesn’t look up, his mouth drawn in a tight line. The ghost of tears well in his eyes. Not good.
Dick scoots off the chair, lightheaded for a moment. He shakes the stars out of his eyes, nodding back and forth, up and down, like Bruce does when he’s sleepy. It’s late. He has school tomorrow. Not that it matters. Bruce will let him skip if he asks the right way. He jogs in place for a few seconds, readying himself, warming up his muscles.
There’s not much he can do to help, but he can at least put on a little show. He runs forward launching into a cartwheel, picking up the papers as he goes – Bruce likes his tricks, sometimes they even make him laugh, sometimes –
Bruce snags his ankle out of the air, his quick reflexes saving Dick from crashing into the edge of a counter. He finds himself hanging, the world stuck upside down as his hands dangle inches from the floor. “Thanks.” He looks up at Bruce’s weary face.
A yawn escapes his lips, and the corners of Bruce’s mouth twitch. “I’m going to have to child-proof the cave at this rate.” He tries for humor but it falls flat, his hearts not in it all.
He stares up, sticking his tongue out. Bruce’s frown doesn’t fade. “Are you okay?” He asks. Bruce’s hands fumble, and Dick swings dangerously low to the floor before he’s recovered. Not willing to take the chance again, he curls up, grabbing Bruce’s forearms and pulls himself up through his arms, settling himself on sturdy shoulders.
Bruce drops his feet. “I’m fine. Why would ask that?” He sounds almost hurt and Dick’s too tired to figure out why.
He slides down easily, Bruce gently deposits him on the floor. “You looked sad.” A yawn leaves his mouth without permission, he stumbles slightly, and a hand clamps down on his shoulder. He reaches back up, and Bruce throws him up against his shoulder, wrapping him in a hug.
Dick yawns contently, his eyelids fluttering without his permission, as Bruce starts walking towards the stairs. “I’m sorry…” The arm around his back pulls him a bit tighter. “I’m just not enough.” A shaking hand combs through his hair and Dick squeezes back because he doesn’t know what to say.
Bruce grunts as he takes a step up the stairs. “Sleep on it?” Dick suggests, resting his eyes for just a moment.
“Mmhmm. It’s bedtime.” Dick’s half asleep by the time they reach the top. He’s not sure he hears Bruce whisper, “You’re a great kid, chum.”
It took Dick years before he really understood the feeling. And even more years before he made the connection that that was how Bruce had felt on late nights spent scouring for clues that just didn’t seem to exist, having worked for days straight on three hours of sleep, and watching Gotham send all of it up in flames setting you back months on an investigation.
He’s learned there’s nights it’s impossible to save everyone – hell, he’s seen Clark get his ass kicked, and Clark’s damn near close to god. Dick would know – the Titans have fought their namesake. But the Titans have fought humans and lost despite half their members being godlike, and besides that most days now he’s alone. It doesn’t matter how hard he tries, how much he plans, how prepared he is; sometimes things just go to hell and a handbasket and there’s nothing he can physically do to prevent it.
Most of the time, he’s fine with that. It’s fine he has limits. Logically, he knows he can’t be expected to everything. Logically, he knows it’s a waste of time to worry about it. Logically, he knows it’s okay to take a night off, watch a nature documentary, invite a friend over, stay in and spend the night simply existing.
But it feels like he could be doing more – should be doing more. He feels that restlessness overtake him, and springs to his feet “Bruce I-”
Bruce gives him his patented bat-glare from where he’s sitting, looking up from a familiar pile of papers. Once it would have intimidated him into sitting back down. Now he just returns it with a patented one of his own. “-I think I’ll suit up and head out for the night, Tim could probably use some back up with-”
“Dick.” There’s this exasperated tone that Bruce can only ever seem to muster when saying his name. He pauses for a just a second, his eyes flickering down to Bruce’s clenched fists and tight shoulders. “Let me handle it.” It comes out as an order, but reading between the lines, it’s a plea.
Bruce would never admit it out loud, worry practically bleeds out of the man. Guilt gnaws on the inside of his chest, though, he’s not sure what it’s even from; the guilt of making Bruce worry or the guilt of being a useless sack of broken and bruised ribs while people need Nightwing’s help. Being benched sucks, but he knows enough to compromise. “Let me run the comms? Babs could use a night off.” She sleeps less than him and Bruce knows it.
The gray streaks in Bruce’s hair stand out all the more as he lets out a bone deep sigh. Dick rolls his eyes – he doesn’t get to do this right now. “You literally let me go out last night I don’t understand why-”
“Last night was an emergency. I didn’t have a choice.” His frown widens, his face etched in an eternal look of pain, mixed with disproval. “Two nights ago… you almost…” His mouth seals itself shut, unspoken words hanging in the air between them. It’s Bruce that breaks the gaze first. “Run the comms, don’t overexert yourself. It should be a quiet night…” He stands, hesitates before walking off “And get to bed early.”
Dick bites back a laugh, Bruce hasn’t talked to him like that since he was thirteen. “Alright.” He resists the urge to poke fun, and follows Bruce through the passage behind the grandfather clock.
“So Ives was talking about the Pirates of the Caribbean movie with me the other day, and we might go see it this weekend if I have the time. Gee- I can’t remember the last time I saw movie in theaters or even really hung out with him.” Tim’s endless chatter helps him stay awake in the dimly lit cave. His throbbing ribs help too, maybe he shouldn’t have tried doing push-ups. “Dad and Dana want to drop me off, but Ives has a car now, though dad’s still worried cuz of the time some wacko tried to stop us at a traffic light.”
Dick hums, a smile creeping its way up his face. “I can drop you off if it’s an issue.”
“Really?! That’d be awesome, you could stay for the movie if you wanted to, but I don’t know if you’d like it, I mean are pirates really your thing? I always figured you’d be more into Vikings or probably aliens actually, or something like-” A red light flashes on the screen, and Dick snaps to attention.
“Hold that thought.” Tim’s chatter ceases immediately as Dick furiously types on the terminal. He punches into the main line. “Batgirl how fast can you get to the corner of 16th and Murphy’s Ave, there’s a building on fire and you’re the only one anywhere near the Upper East Side.” A 911 operator calms down a hysterical woman in his left ear, Cass asking direction in the right.
He pulls up a map. “I-I can’t find a way out!” The woman shrieks. “I don’t know what happened, I was sleeping and-” she breaks off into raspy hacks.
“Go straight, turn right after three blocks down.” Dick winces, as the lady continues chocking on smoke. “C’mon Cass. Get there.” He mutters off the line. He eyes his cycle sitting idly in the bay – he’s twenty minutes out; Cass needs backup. He opens up another line. “Batman I need you to follow Batgirl, what’s your eta?”
Bruce grunts back, he hears thudding over the line. “Fifteen minutes.” The woman screams in his other ear, he yanks the earbud out as a massive bang nearly blows out his eardrum. Picking it back up, he can’t hear the woman anymore, only the roar of flames and falling debris.
“Shit.” He pulls up video from a street camera. “Shit.” The building’s collapsing in on itself. “Permission to call the league?” He clicks through to their line of communications, his finger hovering over the button.
“Here.” Cass scrambles into view, bursting through a window. Shit.
Bruce learned his limits long ago. Dick’s finally settling into his. Cass? They simply don’t register on her radar. The buildings coming down in mere minutes; she’s going to get killed.
“What’s the situation?” Bruce yells in his ear.
“Batgirl get out of there!” He screams at Cass. She’s going to die – the building’s not stable, and he’s the one that sent her there. “Make it five minutes – the building’s coming down.” He yells to Bruce. “Batgirl!” He watches a few windows blow out. A firetruck careens down the street.
“Permission granted.” Bruce huffs and Dick can’t click the button fast enough.
A couple more windows blow out, and the building seems to lean to the side. Finally he sees Cass climb back out a window, holding a couple kids in her arms as she leaps to the ground. “BATGIRL GET THEM CLEAR!” His heart pounds in his throat as she runs forwards, the building groaning behind her, crumbling to the side. Chaos erupts, chunks of flaming debris cascading from the top of the building, as the second floor merges with the first.
Dick blinks, his mouth dry. “There’s more people-” he can’t hear Cass over the ensuing cacophony as he watches the building topple to the ground. “NO!” He faintly hears her scream as the screen erupts in static.
Dick slams his fists on the desk. His chest constricts painfully. “Nightwing. Report.” Bruce’s steady voice reminds him to breathe. His chest spasms. Shit. “Nightwing!” Bruce demands as he tries to catch his breath.
“Building collapsed.” He manages to get out. “One sec.” He takes a few deep breaths, leaning back in the chair for support. “Batgirl report.” He’s greeted with silence. “Batgirl, please, if you’re there I need you to respond.”
“I…” Cass trials off. Dick sighs in relief. “I’m sorry.” The line cuts off. Well. Shit.
“Nightwing! I’m headed to the location.” Bruce squawks. Dick sighs.
“It’s going to be a long night. Search and rescue, I’ll call in backup.” Shit. So much for an early bedtime.
“Hey.” Someone shakes his shoulder. He makes a grab for their wrist and misses, his mind processing where the hell he is. He blinks a few times.
“Cass?” Her hair’s plastered to the side of her head and she’s covered in soot. Nicks, rips, and tears decorate her costume. Dick wipes his eyes as the ashy smell of smoke overwhelms his senses. Cass takes a few steps back, heading towards the locker room. “Wait.” He had something to say to her, his mind racing to catch up.
She hops up onto a counter. His mind shuffles through the events earlier in the night. “Bruce sent you back?” Cass nods glumly. The rescue efforts weren’t going well when he dozed off. The JLA sent in everyone they could spare; there’s nothing they can do anymore. Not that Bruce won’t try.
Cass’s lips are sealed. There’s a haunting expression in her eyes, her shoulders slump forward, her hands firmly plant themselves on the counter for support.
And his friends think he’s too much like Bruce.
“Hey.” He starts. She gives him a weary look, tears welling in her eyes. Well, maybe not exactly like Bruce. “Look, I’m sorry I put you in that position.” Cass shakes her head. “Sometimes things like this happen. I should have-”
“Stop.” Cass pulls her feet up on the counter, getting dust everywhere. “I should have been faster.” She swallows, refusing to let the tears spill over. “My fault.”
Dick watches as she glides off the counter, yanking off her gloves and dropping them on the floor. Burn marks dot her hands and the edges of her hair are singed. “You did everything you could.” She hesitates, before taking a step towards the showers.
“Not enough.” She mutters before storming off, leaving a trail of soot in her wake.
He stands up. “Cass.” The lock snaps shut with a click as she slips into the bathroom. Leaving Dick in an empty cave once more.
By the time he returns downstairs, Cass is already out of the shower, looking displeased. “You took my clothes.” She notes unhappily, a pale pink towel tucked tightly around her shoulders.
Dick watches water drip down from her hair, pattering on the floor. The trail leading back to the bathroom is now mixed with water and soot. Alfred’s going to be pissed. “I took your costume.” He clarifies. “And I brought you clothes.” He gestures towards the open door.
Cass scowls, planting her feet defiantly. “I’m going out.” She reaches out a hand. Dick shrugs – there’s no way she can find where he hid her filthy suit before they get a chance to wash it.
It’s all too familiar, reading the lines across her brow, watching her shoulders slump when she stills, and scanning red rimmed eyes. “What are you going to do like that?” He points out, Cass angrily storming towards him. “You’re tired, you’ll just end up being in the way.” He dodges left as a fist flies past his face. “You would have hit if I wasn’t right.” She’s faster than him on his best days.
She glares at him with pursed lips, staring before turning on her heel and storming off towards the bathroom. The door slams behind her, triggering the rustling of far away wings.
Dick sighs – he hopes he wasn’t this temperamental when he lived with Bruce. “Come up to the kitchen when you’re done, I need your help with something.” The lie rolls easily off his tongue, though he feels a twinge of guilt as Cass groans behind closed doors.
Cass’s eyes widen as she enters the room. Dick offers a smile as she edges closer to the table. He tosses a spoon, she snags it out of the air. “Dig in.” There’s a carton of chocolate ice cream – double chocolate chunk brownie sundae with hot fudge and chocolate sprinkles to be precise – and tons of candy. It’s not stuff Bruce keeps around, but Dick’s has a stash at Tim’s house reserved for movie nights. He’ll restock later.
Cass vigorously stabs the ice cream with her spoon, a smile dancing across her face as she takes a few bites. She pauses, sticking the spoon back in the cartoon, looking up with a confused expression. “Why?” She’s wearing fluffy pajama bottoms, fuzzy socks, and an old worn college sweatshirt that’s frayed at the hems. Dick can almost pretend he’s back, talking to Donna after she broke up with Roy their sophomore year of high school.
She’s watching Dick carefully. He hums casually. “You had a rough night.” This is what the Titans always did. She shrugs.
“Things happen.” She shovels a few more bites into her mouth. “I want to go out.” It’s hard for Dick to find her tough and grizzled when she’s guzzling gummi worms, kicking her feet back and forth on the stool.
“Consider this a reason to stay in.” She gives him a sideways glance. “You did as much as you can, that’s enough.” Cass looks pointedly at her ice cream, not hesitating before diving back into it.
“Spar with me?” She licks a skittle before sticking it in her mouth.
Dick snorts. “If I don’t have a heart attack, I think Bruce would.” She snaps up to attention, grabbing his wrist and quickly finding his pulse point. “I’m fine, Cass.” Her hands are freezing. He places one of his on top of hers. “If you weren’t there I wouldn’t have been.” He says quietly, catching her eye. “Thank you.” She pulls back as if burned, quickly busying herself with the candy. He waits a moment before adding, “I think those kids you saved are grateful too.”
Cass throws a bag of M&M’s at him, he’s a second too slow and it pelts him in the face. “Noted.” He grins. “Uh, also, I’m going to have to do something with your hair.”
“What.”
“Cass, hold still.” She immediately stops squirming under his hands. “Thanks.” She hums back, tucked under an old blanket that never seems to leave the back of the couch. Bruce still isn’t here, but Tim checked in after his stakeout, and headed home a half an hour ago. He snips away another lock of burnt hair, tossing it into a trash can next to him.
He rests his forearms on the back of the sofa, contemplating which section of her hair to start with next. “You find one you like yet?” He asks, peeking over her shoulder at the images of hairstyles.
“Uhh.” She scrolls a bit more. “I don’t care.” She tosses the phone up to the top of the couch.
“Mmm.” He didn’t expect much else. Donna texted him a picture earlier to copy – something easy to pull back but still stylish. He attacks the next section, carefully brushing out the tangles, starting bottom to the top. He’s oddly grateful for all those times he did Donna and Kory’s hair.
‘Practice for when Bruce finally adopts a girl.’ They used to tease. ‘You’ll have a real sister, and if his track record holds she’ll have black hair and blue eyes.’ He’s never lived the irony down. Though, Cass’s eyes are a beautiful warm brown, so Donna and Kory can take that.
“You know.” He keeps his tone light. “Most hairdressers and their clients talk.” Cass remains set in stony silence. “Though I guess most people go to a salon to get their hair cut.” He just visits Joey. “Some people say it’s like free therapy.”
“You talk a lot.” Cass notes. He pulls up doodle jump on his phone and passes it back to her. She plays a couple rounds before the phone’s placed back beside him.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He already knows the answer, but still asks all the same.
“No.” Bruce never wanted to either. Barbara used to talk to him… before he left for the Titans and took years to look back. Though he likes to dream otherwise, he knows there’ll come a day when Tim won’t want to talk to him anymore either.
It doesn’t get any easier being shut out. “That’s alright. If you change your mind I’m here.” He grabs the shears, snipping away another dead end.
“Thanks.”
“Dick.” A hiss awakes him, light following soon after. He squints, turning away to bury his face in a cushion. “Where’s Cassandra?”
He turns, eyes snapping open as he quickly scans the sofa. The blanket hangs off the edge, Cass nowhere to be seen. One of her custom batarangs sticks out of his armchair’s armrest, a few inches from his hand. “She must have found her costume.” He notes, glancing towards the pajamas crumpled in the doorway. His eyes meet Bruce’s as he lets out a tired sigh.
His hair’s dripping, fresh from a shower, and it’s singed at the edges. Dick nods towards the sheers on the coffee table. “Tomorrow.” Bruce decides, crossing the room, picking up the blanket as he goes. Dick pushes down the footrest, slowly rising to his feet. His ribs twinge at every move, in hindsight, falling asleep hanging off the side of an armchair wasn’t his best idea. Bruce hovers closer than normal, watching carefully, worry lines set in concern. “Bed.”
Dick’s too tired to argue. “Bed.” He agrees. And though Bruce doesn’t carry him, he accompanies him up the stairs.
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vicarfelix · 3 years
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Dockgazing
Vicar Max x Fem! Captain
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 1,725
“You’ve been gone for quite some time. We were getting worried.”
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She took a long drag of her cigarette, loving and hating the way it burned when the smoke entered her lungs. She was high above the floor of The Groundbreaker, sitting on the edge of one of the balconies that were stationed around the higher levels of the ship. Her feet dangled over the edge, but not so far that she was at risk of falling to the ground.
She wasn’t even sure how she ended up there. She had taken some time to wander around Chief Junlei’s impressive ship, exploring some of the areas that she hadn’t yet had time to see yet. She stopped by Martin’s stand, buying a pack of fresh cigarettes before swinging by The Lost Hope for a bottle of Iceberg Whiskey. 
Eventually, she found herself inside of the more isolated parts of the ship, climbing a ladder and sitting out on the ledge to enjoy her smoking habit in peace. She figured if she was going to pick smoking back up again, she might as well wash her guilt down with something as equally toxic. Alcohol in Halcyon was far different than anything that Earth had. Actually, everything in Halcyon was different from Earth. For a colony that was supposed to be modeled after her home planet, she just couldn’t seem to find comfort there.
The Captain had gotten used to Halcyon over the course of her time post-hibernation. She supposed that Mock Apples were close enough to the organic apples that she used to enjoy on warm summer days. She had learned to stomach Saltuna and that it was just as good as the canned, processed fished that she was used to. And the Spacer’s Choice cigarettes curbed her occasional craving just as well as any cigarette brand.
She held the Spacer’s Corona lazily between the index and middle finger of her right hand, watching the trail of smoke that suspended from the end of it as it slowly burned down. She took another drag, one that was less deep than her previous one. Her cheeks hollowed ever so as she let the smoke sit in her chest for a moment before exhaling it through her nostrils. Oddly enough, before she was hibernated for 7 odd decades, The Captain only smoked when she was overly stressed. Back then it was only a couple times a year, but now she could easily go through a pack a day.
She definitely tried not to, considering that she knew all the harm that it was probably doing to her. Although, Phineas had mentioned once in passing that she was pretty much immune to stuff like that now. The Captain somewhat doubted that, but she used it to her advantage whenever she started feeling bad about smoking. The Captain kept the bottle of whiskey close to her, the cool material of the glass being pressed against the side of her thigh. 
She had made it through maybe a third of the bottle, and she was feeling the beginnings of a buzz. She would take a few inhales of her cigarette, take a sip, take a few more inhales, take another sip. She had been in this rhythm for a little while as she watched Junlei’s mardets and the occasional travelers walk down the promenade below her. She could see the entire center of the ship from where she sat. She couldn’t help but grin at the sight of the blinking LED signs above the Rest-N-Go and the Medical Bay. 
She thought about how she wasn’t exactly the most normal human being. She was the captain of a “borrowed” ship and a crew of pirates and orphans. She was a strange person indeed who was leading an even stranger life. Not to mention that she was romantically involved with one of them. On the surface, the Captain was confident that she wouldn’t want to change a thing about how her life had gone. She liked being a captain and she was grateful for the experiences that it had granted her. But there was one thing that just always bothered her. Something that rested far below what others could see.
She missed being able to enjoy life.
Groundbreaker had become a favorite of the Captain’s over the course of her journey. She had made many friends and allies there, and aside from her own ship, it was the only other place that she felt safe. But even then, she always made sure that her handgun was ready to go at any moment. She hated feeling like she had to be on edge all the time. She didn’t like having to make sure that she was constantly aware of what and who was around her. She couldn’t even sit in a bar to unwind because she was constantly on the lookout for someone who might try to take her or her crew out.
She was an enemy of The Board, and in turn, her crew wasn’t on their good side either. She knew what kind of organization The Board was running. The Captain hated to admit it or even think about it, but she wouldn’t be surprised if she or one of her crew ended up dead at the hands of The Board. She always made sure to lock the ship completely down at the end of every night, no matter where they were. The Board was everywhere...or at least, it felt like they were. 
Maybe the Captain’s paranoia was getting the best of her.
Still, she had found ways to take the edge off, even for a short period of time. She had just taken another sip of whiskey when she heard footsteps approach from behind her. Normally, she would’ve scrambled from her resting position with her gun drawn, but these footsteps had a distinct sound that she had learned to trust. The steps were heavy, but graceful and sometimes had a bit of a shuffle depending on the situation. She didn’t even turn her head, continuing to survey the promenade below her.
“Hey, Max,” She greeted, knowing that he’d take that as an invitation to join her.
The Captain had left her crew back on The Unreliable several hours ago, telling them that she’d be back shortly. Time had just slipped away from her once she had found the hidey spot she was in. 
“Captain,” He returned, sitting next to his girlfriend, “I believe that you told me that you were quitting.” He remarked, referring to the half-smoked cigarette still in her hand.
She gave him a slight smirk, his dazzling eyes shining with admiration.
“I believe that you told me that you were afraid of heights.” She remarked, glancing downwards to indicate to him that they were indeed far from the ground.
He fought the shiver that threatened to vibrate up his spine. He couldn’t deny that he was timid when it came to being high in the air. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling, but at least where they were now, the only way he could fall would be if he fell forward...so he was okay.
“I’m not a fan of them.” He admitted, eyeing the bottle of whiskey on the other side of her.
She seemingly read his mind, wrapping her hands around the bottle and handing it to him. She scooted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder as he took a gulp straight from the bottle as she had done. Max wasn’t usually keen on sharing drinks with someone else, but considering that drinking out of the same bottle as her wasn’t much different than kissing, he didn’t mind. He felt a warmth spread over his chest as the liquid burned going down his esophagus, the alcohol pooling in his stomach.
“How’d you find me up here?” The Captain asked.
“Oh, please. I could spot you in a crowd of thousands,” He claimed, pressing his lips to the top of her head, “You’ve been gone for quite some time. We were getting worried.”
The Captain had no idea how long she had been sitting up there. Time always seemed to slip away from her when she was trying to unwind and reflect.
“I’m sorry. I just found my way up here and got comfortable,” She admitted, “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“That’s alright.” He said simply, not wanting to break her serenity too much, “How are you doing?”
Whenever Max asked her that, she knew that he was really asking about her wellbeing in regards to the mission they were on. Not that he didn’t care about her in a general sense, but he knew the toll that this had taken on her....on all of them.
“I’m doing okay,” She told him, “Just missing home.” 
He nodded. He knew all about her story and how she ended up in this position to begin with. She had been holding on to a string of hope that she might get to return to Earth. She said a silent prayer every night that she’d be able to leave Halcyon behind, and maybe even get the chance at a new life with Max...but she was beginning to realize that might not be in the cards for her.
“I understand. Is there anything I can do for you, darling?” He questioned, wanting to comfort her as best as he could.
She shook her head, finishing off the last of her cigarette with an extended exhale.
“No, it’s okay....just stay with me?” She meant to say as a command, but it came out as more of a request.
He shrugged his shoulder to get her to lift her head so he could look at her, pressing a kiss to her lips. He tasted the whiskey, the smoke, and all of her that he had grown to love. He adored his Captain. He couldn’t live without her. It killed him to know that she was in pain and there wasn’t anything he could do. He wanted to take all the bullets for her. He wanted to be the one to bear the burdens that had been thrown on top of her. 
He wanted her to be happy.
For now, being in her presence and loving her was going to have to do. But at least it was something he could do with ease and without hesitation. 
“Always, my Captain.”
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im-the-punk-who · 4 years
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The Real People of Black Sails!
Here’s a quick(I promise....I promise this is as short as I could make it without leaving out some really choice shit) rundown of all the real historical figures peppered throughout Black Sails! I think I caught them all but if you know of others please mention them and I’ll add them on! Under a readmore because this is....so long y’all.
Pirates & Maroons
Anne Bonny (possibly 1697 – unknown; possibly April 1782) Started life crossdressing at her dad’s behest to avoid his wife(who wasn’t Bonny’s mom), married a guy her dad didn’t like, moved to Nassau. There her husband became a spy for Rogers and Anne was like ‘Not cool bro’. She met Jack, they started fucking, and Anne discovered she was really good at stabbing things. Resumed dressing as a man and started trying to seduce Mary Read who was also dressed as a man. They did indeed fall victim to one of the classic queer blunders. Anyway, Anne’s like ‘it’s not gay I’m a chick!’ And Mary is like ‘really?? Then it’s a little gayer than you realize because I’m a chick too!’ They (probably) start banging. Rackham’s like ‘hang on! I’m the only dick in Anne’s life’ and Mary and Anne are like ‘you sure are’ and Mary shows him her boobs and then they have some sort of complicated and probably not totally consensual threeway. Then they get captured because, Jack is That Guy Who Was Too Drunk To Realize His Ship Was Under Attack and Mary and Anne had to defend the ship against like, a whole other crew. Jack is hung(not a dick joke), but both Anne and Mary plead stays of execution due to pregnancy. Anne disappears but possibly is maybe referred to later. No one knows. Neat!
Edit: According to sources from this post there is a genealogical record that refers to Anne and it records her death as 1782. Very neat!
Israel Hands (c.1701-death unknown) Israel Hands was a real pirate and Blackbeard’s first mate. Not much else is known about where he came from or his life, other than that Blackbeard shot him in the knee at one point while supposedly aiming for another man. ‘Oops my bad this pistol is from like, the 18th century or something.’ While recuperating in Bath he was arrested after Teach’s death but took a pardon in exchange for ratting out the colonial officials who had been bribed by Teach. It’s unknown what happened to him after that although That Book About Pyrites says he died a beggar in London.
Benjamin Hornigold (1680–1719) Horny4gold was one of the most well known and influential pirates of the Golden Age. Most other pirates sailed under him or with him at one point, and he was one of the founders of the Pirate Republic of Nassau. He never attacked british ships during his time as captain so that he could be like ‘but brooooo I was acting in Britain’s Interests!!! Bro!!!!!’ But his co-pirates didn’t like that and eventually voted to replace him with Sam Bellamy. He accepted the king's pardon in 1718 and became a pirate hunter instead. Bummer. He was reportedly killed in a shipwreck.
Okay listen Horingold in any universe is a fucking JOKE I have to share this passage with y’all:
“Hornigold is recorded as having attacked a sloop off the coast of Honduras, but as one of the passengers of the captured vessel recounted, "they did us no further injury than the taking most of our hats from us, having got drunk the night before, as they told us, and toss'd theirs overboard"” WHAT A JOKE.
Dr. Howell - (birth/death unknown) John Howell was a pirate surgeon forced into service by Hornigold sometime in early 1717. He sailed with various pirate crews until October before returning into the service of Governor Rogers.
Ned Low (1690–1724) N’EDWARD. Okay I’m serious again. Born in London, Lowe grew up a thief in a thief family before moving to Boston. His wife died in childbirth in 1719, so he decided ‘fuck it I’ll become a Pirate Captain’ and did just that. He was known for torturing the people on board the ships he captured before murdering them and burning the ship. Interestingly though, Lowe was known to have a huge amount of regret over abandoning his daughter when he turned pirate, and wouldn’t force married men into his service. He also reportedly would allow women to return to port safely. Because of his numerous captures and cruelties, he was one of the most well known pirates in his day. There are differing reports about Low’s death - some say his crew mutinied and marooned him and he was subsequently hung, others say his ship sunk in a storm, and some say he just straight up disappeared. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Jack Rackham - (December 26, 1682 – November 18, 1720) Really a pirate, really named himself after a housecat pattern. (No, okay, he didn’t, it was because of his threads. But wouldn’t the cat thing fit too?) Sailed with Vane, Anne Bonny, and Mary Read. Was mostly known for being That Guy Who Was Too Drunk To Realize His Ship Was Under Attack and being Anne and Mary’s captain. He was captured and sentenced to hang after the aforementioned Drunk Blunder in 1720.
Mary/Mark Read - (1685 – 28 April 1721) Much like Anne Bonny, Mary dressed as a boy for much of her youth so a parent could swindle someone out of money. From her teenage years on she continued dressing as a man to find work in the military and as a sailor. She did marry but her husband died young and so she decided to become a pirate. Like ya do. She accepted the king’s pardon in 1718, then mutinied on the privateer she was aboard, once again becoming a pirate. Because pirates are sexy. In 1720 she joined Jack Rackham’s crew and sailed with him and Bonny. Cue the whole ‘Hey you’re hot, also I’m a woman.’ ‘Oh, hey, same hat!’ with Anne. In November of 1720, Rackham’s ship was captured. Mary died of a fever in prison(likely due to her pregnancy) in 1721.
Edward Teach - (c. 1680 – 22 November 1718) He started piracy sailing under Hornigold, and built the fleet alongside him and Stede Bonnet until Hornigold retired. COOL fact about Blackbeard is he was a MASTER showman who liked to light slow burning fuses under his hat to scare his enemies, and he relied more heavily on creating an image his prizes feared than violence. He did a lot of cool shit including ransoming the entire town of Charles Town and annoying the shit out of Woodes Rogers before settling in Bath and later dying of like, a shit ton of wounds while battling Lieutenant Maynard. The battle on Roger’s ship is pretty much what happened minues the keelhauling. Afterwards he was beheaded, his head hung from the bow of Maynard’s ship, and his body was thrown in the bay in Bath, where it’s said his ghost still haunts! Funky!
Charles Vane - (1680 – 29 March 1721)  Really a pirate captain! Known for being Not A Nice Dude. Sailed with Henry Jennings, Edward England and Jackie Rackhammie. He led the pirates in resisting Rogers in Nassau, and yeah he really did light a ship on fire and 18th centuryeet it into Rogers’ line in order to escape. There’s a note that he returned to Nassau to get married but I couldn’t find any info on who he married so he’s gay now. That’s a rule I just made up. Anyway so at one point his ship got into a fight with another ship and Vane ordered a retreat and the crew was like ‘this is BOOshit’ and voted him out in favor of Jack Rackham. Ouch. Vane and some of the crew that supported him left aboard the Katherine(I believe) but then they got caught in a storm that said ‘fuck you specifically to Charles Vane,’ and he was marooned on an island. He survived! Just long enough for a British ship to stop at the island for him to attempt to board, get caught, and then hung. Deus ex piratica.
(Honorary mentions)
John Silver + Captain Flint (sort of but I’m not kidding!) Okay so of course there are a bunch of suspected origins of the characters of Captain Flint and Long John Silver, but the one I like the most is of two brothers - one of whom had a peg leg! - who captured an enormous Spanish treasure and buried it near Ocracoke island. Their names were John and Owen Lloyd. (And yes, John was the one-legged brother.) In 1750 a Spanish treasure fleet named the Flotas de Indias attempted to sail from Havana to Spain in late August, and three ships were wrecked during a hurricane. By a stroke of luck, the Lloyd brothers had been blown to the same inlet as the wrecked ships Guadalupe and Soledad , and managed to convince the Captain to hire them to transport the treasure to Norfolk. 
But of course because they thought the Spanish SUCKED they said ‘psyche’ and just fucked off with it while the Captain was fighting Bureaucratic red tape in North Carolina. Iconique. Owen Lloyd reportedly buried the treasure on Norman Island and  the pair became folk heroes in the area, particularly in St. Kitts.  (P.s., the Stevenson family ran a sugar production business on St. Kitts, and R.L. Stevenson’s great grandfather worked there as early as 1773 - just 25 years after the epic heist. COOL STORY BRO.)
Captain Throckmorton (Okay not really but I just love this guy’s name) Okay so this guy wasn’t really a pirate captain but he was a Steamboat captain in the 1830s and his name is just too ridiculous for someone to make up. Toot toot, motherfucker.
---------
Queen Nanny(Maroon Queen/Madi) (c. 1686 – c. 1755) The spiritual, cultural, and military leader of the Windward Maroons (who the Black Sails Maroons are based on.) She led them alongside her ‘brother’ Quao although the relationship between them isn’t known. Exact information about her origins are not known but best guess is that she was of royal lineage from present-day Ghana, born sometime in the 1680’s. She did have a husband named Adou(who may have been the same person as Quao? I’ve read conflicting stuff), but they had no children. Many of the guerilla warfare tactics we now think of as common practice were developed by Queen Nanny and the other Maroons in their fight against British incursions. (The trap that Flint lays, covering themselves with paint and leaves, and the pits the Maroons lay in the forest are tactics known to have been used by the Windward Maroons.)
Nanny was a fucking legend okay a LEGENDS ONLY legend. She was one of the most instrumental people in preserving African culture among freed slaves and Maroons, and in encouraging the resistance to slavery in the Bahamas and surrounding areas. She was one of three leaders of the First Maroon War (which the war in Black Sails is based on). She initially refused to sign the treaty offered to Cudjoe because she knew the British were losing and was like ‘Why????? Would I surrender???? In a war??? I’m winning?????’
Anyway Queen Nanny was a fucking badass please read every piece of literature you can find on her. (You should absolutely read her full bio because she was fucking badass.)
Cudjoe (not exactly, but Julius is very close) (c. 1690s – 1764) Likely a freeborn son of one of the original escaped slaves turned Maroons, Cudjoe is hailed as one of the greatest Maroon leaders(after Queen Nanny). Much like in Black Sails, these original Maroons were slaves who escaped or overran their masters, forming free communities in the Mountains of Jamaica. The treaty in Black Sails is based on the one Cudjoe negotiated with the British, wanting an ‘honorable peace’ with the enemy, rather than the continued war and better terms that Queen Nanny and Quao wanted. (sound familiarrrrrr?) I do want to note that by the end of his life he became completely disillusioned with the idea that the British should be reasoned with and basically started fights with every British superior he could.
The English, Spanish, and Scottish!
The Guthries So while there wasn’t ever a female head of the Guthrie clan in Nassau, the Guthries were a Scottish merchant clan who emigrated to Boston around 1652 due to religious and racial persecution. While most of the family stayed around Pennsylvania and Massachusetts, John Guthrie moved to Virginia and his brother James Guthrie moved to Bermuda sometime after 1683.
(James Guthrie of Suffolk County, Massachusetts was listed in the will of John Richardson, dated 7 May 1683, in which Richardson says, “I give and bequeath unto James Guthrie all I have in the world except twenty shillings to buy John Harris a ring and ten shillings to buy John Kyte a ring.” This was witnessed by John Raynsford and John Ramsey.) Fellas is it gay.
Anyway, between Virginia and Boston and James’ ties in the Bermuda islands, the family made a shit ton fencing pirated goods during the Golden Age of Piracy, particularly from the Pirate Republic of Nassau.
A John Guthrie(likely a son of James’) was also a Colonel who was part of the peace talks with Cudjoe and the Maroons. Neat!
James Oglethorpe (22 December 1696 – 30 June 1785) Okay listen Oglethorpe was COOL AS FUCK. He is the founder of the colony of Georgia and is imo who Thomas Hamilton is probably based on. Oglethorpe was a HUGE humanitarian and even before he decided to form an entire colony around people not owning slaves. He advocated for better conditions for sailors, and prison reform. In 1732 he read a letter by a slave in Maryland named Ayuba Suleiman Diallo and on the spot decided slavery was terrible, divested himself of his stock in the African Trading Company, and resolved to include a law banning slavery in Georgia to the colony’s charter. Radical, man.
Speaking of Georgia, and specifically his plantation near Savannah, Oglethorpe actively spoke with the native Yamacraw who populated the land to ask permission and trade for the land he sought to build Georgia on. His plantation was meant to help debtors in London, released without any support, from falling back into debt and offering them a way forward to landownership through indentured servitude. I highly recommend anyone interested in early attempts at an equality based colonial system read up on the original charter of Georgia. (Of course there were still problems, but Oglethorpe was one of the most prominent proponents of a non hierarchical society - including limits to the acreage any person could own based on how helpful that land was to the people who worked it, and communal resources.) Oglethorpe was also a lifelong friend with Tomochichi, the chief of the Yamacraw, and worked very closely with him on colonial-indigenous relations.
Vincente de Raja (birth/death unknown) He was the real Governor and military Captain of Cuba from 1716-1717. He was a devoted pirate hunter and encouraged Spanish privateering against the pirates. Due to an attempt by Spain to increase tobacco profits at the expense of the farmers, there was a large revolt which resulted in many of the Cuban officials, including Raja, being replaced. 
William Rhett (4 September 1666 – 12 January 1723) He was a merchant captain and plantation owner in Carolina who served in the colonial militia and hunted pirates. He captured Stede Bonnet and was probably just as much of an asshole as he is in the show.
Woodes Rogers - (c. 1679 – 15 July 1732) The Governor of Nassau who was largely responsible for ending piracy in the Bahamas. He really did offer a universal pardon, which a large number of the pirates took. Fun fact: before he was Governor, he rescued Alexander Selkirk, who is believed to be the guy Robinson Crusoe is based off of! Neat! He really did have a brother who really did die during his privateering exploits which also really did leave him ‘disfigured’. He got sued by his crew, went bankrupt, wrote a book, got famous for writing the book, and he really did have a wife named Sarah whom he divorced shortly after all this happened. He then became Governor of Nassau for the first time. This first term did end in him being imprisoned for debts incurred defending the island from Vane and Teach and the Spanish, but he was released, helped write that most famous A General History of the Robberies and Murders of the Most Notorious Pyrates, and became governor again in 1728. He died in 1732 of just plain exhaustion from dealing with the bureaucracy. Alexa play tiny violin.
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mego42 · 3 years
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Shamelessly stealing @foxmagpie​’s monthly rec thing without the ability to get my life together to do these on a monthly basis so, seasonal recs! So excited to see if I manage to do this again with anything remotely resembling consistency but i’ve been keeping the notes for approximately 43 years (or since ~september, whatever that means) so by god i’m gonna use them. 
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found my thrill - s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe​
Turner POV!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
guys turner is SO OBSESSED with Beth and Rio
both canonically and in this fic
it’s gr9
also features a weirdly soothing and relatable cord untangling moment as a metaphor
truly disturbingly relatable turner pov tbh
relentless boomer disdain, always a plus
led to the creation of this monstrosity, not sure what kind of a monster would do that
War In My Mind - mintletters16
Backread!!!!
post-213, gorgeous character study 
guaranteed to make you feEl stUfF
I really love the like, cyclical, fractured pattern of Beth’s internal monologue, it gives the whole thing a really affecting at times dreamy, at times haunted vibe
the end twist is *chef’s kiss*
mourning bells - Ejunkiet / @ejunkiet​
Backread!!!!
Later s2 era, Rio’s at a funeral, gets drunk and calls Beth
V short, kind of…..mmm, not sweet, but almost? Idk
It’s got a wistful sort of almost/i can be quiet with you vibe that i go extremely bonkers for
delinquents - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​
Lol are any of you actually not reading this yet?
g o d ch 8 where do i start
First off how ABSOLUTELY VERY DARE for the tragic angst that is delinquents!beth boland. This poor baby, this precious bean. MUST PROTEC
SHE’S TRYING HER BEST AND I LOVE HER
zero percent deserves dean’s clammy hands, no i have not forgotten, tattooed on my brain, will never forgive
I also love love love love LOVE the ruby/stan subplot happening
(and ruby’s mom!!!!!) (seriously though you write the best moms)
oh god and baby beth starting to have confusing feelings about rio?????? *chef’s kiss*
p sure i was just like, straight screaming the entire end of the chapter
the dugout is like, pure serotonin
I can’t even talk about the closet
tHe teNsiOn
thank you i will take eleventy billion
don't give it a hand, offer it a soul - medievalraven / @medievalraven
am a desperate heaux for any fic that features rio and mick friendship
you are all incredibly shocked i know
still would not be mad if this swerved into rio x mick fake dating but beth x rio is cool too i guess
Speaking of things i am a desperate heaux for: DIANE!!!!!!!!
and DATING ANNIE???????????? Blessed
honestly this fic is worth it purely for the assertion that mick watches queer eye
Why don't we go to Venus? - watermelonriddles / @bensonstablers​
another grief study! 
apparently i was working through some stuff in september, idk, that was like 4 years ago
considering it’s the premise of the fic, i don’t think it’s a spoiler to say this fic is canon divergent and working with the premise that rio killed beth in 302
he is uh, not coping well
extremely haunted you might say
lots of marcus and rhea which is a delight!
rhea is to good for him tbh
i said what i said
truly top notch dream (nightmare?) sequences
the conversation at the end is extremely uncalled for
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drop the game - Ejunkiet / @ejunkiet​
Backread!!!!
Am going to die mad Beth and Rio didn’t hook up in 211 but luckily this fic scratched the itch 
(temporarily, it’s a fairly permanent itch)
Bonus rec: missing scene series i wanna do bad things to you featuring 2x02 and 2x04
Viva Voce - zetuslapetus / @querenaxx​
Whoops we woke up married Vegas shenanigans!! 
So cute!!!!! So sexy!!!!! 
What more do you want?
am desperately obsessed with how beth can’t help stalking rio
feels right, feels organic
this makes me feel a lot of stuff about how they could be without their canon garbage between them
🎶 we could’ve had it aaaaaaaaaaall 🎶
you showed me colors (i can't see them with anyone else) - gild_fire / @gild-and-fire​
really into the use of color to illustrate beth’s emotional state, i feel like there’s a word for that but idk what it is
UNIMPORTANT
really nice job capturing beth’s inner vulnerability balanced by her outer stubbornness
am DESPERATELY into Mick playing matchmaker
more please???????
Both Sides of the Law - JoeyLee / @joeyjoeylee​
LAW SCHOOL AU! I suuuuuuper love Beth and Rio here (alt pov!! a gift!!!!) I love how initially prickly they are, I love how it’s evolving into a grudging respect, I love how INCREDIBLY AND HILARIOUSLY OBSESSED WITH EACH OTHER THEY ARE and neither one of them seems to see it
listen I know we’re all already foaming at the mouth over this one but as it’s gonna go down as one of my all time favorites it bears repeating/rereccing
cannot stress enough how masterful the use of POV is here, both voices feel completely true and distinct and I love how the alternating chapters revisit, reveal and emphasize pieces of each other
i can’t talk about this fic without hyperventilating
I LOVE IT SO MUCH YOU GUYS
the slow burn is going to ACTUALLY KILL ME
rip, no regrats
Earned It - wakeupflawless / @wakeupflawless​
spanking
that’s it that’s the pitch
H O T
living for beth’s exit in the first chapter, rio and i are both incredibly into it
second chapter also features violently possessive Rio who cannot deal with anyone messing with his girl so if that’s your thing boy howdy get on it
shake, baby, shake - openhearts
backread!!!!!
according to my bookmarks this was a reread but ???????
must’ve read it in the fugue state that followed reading for a moment we were strangers which is gr9 and I believe I have recced it before. If not, horrible oversight, reccing it now
beth and Rio POV lead up to the bathroom break, beautifully done, low-key feel bad reccing it bc the end point of both chapters makes me want to throw things but it’s super worth it for the tEnsiOn. ENJOY
What the Sea Wants, the Sea Will Have - flashindie / @pynkhues​
I’m assuming all of y’all are already reading this
If not OH MY GOD FIX YOUR LIVES
P I R A T E  A U
I’m sorry maybe you didn’t hear me piRaTE aU
meticulously researched, brain-meltingly vibrant, already painfully sexy slow-burning PIRATE AU
god where to start okay so first off, the world-building here straight up breaks my brain, sophie’s put in the work and it SHOWS
second, the atmosphere. i’m generally a pretty like, vague mental picture sort of reader but the sensory detail here grabs you by the throat and like, forcibly hauls you in whether your brain’s wired that way or no
and hey speaking of throats if you, like me, go a little funny about the knees at the idea of beth holding a knife to rio’s throat (he’s fine, calm down), there’s a v excellent beth-in-a-barrel moment for you
oh christ and the sexy tension
it’s gonna be a race to see which slow burn takes me out first, this or law school
Stunner - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​
Another high school AU, this time with baby Rio absolutely head over heels for his older sister’s bff
stunner!Rio has an emotional earnestness about him that I feel like delinquents!Rio has already outgrown and it’s so SWEET I can’t get enough
Desperately cute!!!!!!
alL he waNts iS foR beTh tO bE hiS girL
also unreasonably angsty???????
ANN ARBOR IS NOT THAT FAR MEGAN
A Heart's A Heavy Burden - tooshyforthis / @bathroombreaks​
Howl’s Moving Castle AU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I love Howl’s!!!!!!!!!!!
perfect opp to roast Rio for being a Dramatique Heaux 
and it’s gonna be 9 chapters?????? H Y P E
author’s note boldly presumes I did not know I needed this AU when the reality is I did in fact know I needed this AU, I just wasn’t expecting anyone to deliver
so blessed
author also claims to not be team nose stud and yet it features prominently in all its magnificent glory
what is the truth dot gif
A Bit of a Stretch - septiembre / @septiembur​
SO????? CUTE?????????
would be on this list for Rio calling Beth E alone tbh
really really really really really love this Rio POV of being settled into a relationship with Beth
It manages to be sweetly domestic af while still holding the edge that makes brio brio which is a neat trick
@septiembur may be a witch
beth’s approach to getting rio to do yoga with her is hilarious and exactly right, canon-typical amounts of subtlety 
1000000/10
Post Break-Up Sex - femalegothic / @bethsuglywigs​
stg this was called Hit Shuffle
no matter
h O T
with a side of damn i’ve made some questionable choices in my life haven’t i introspection
(no regrats tho)
(esp not with this fic)
not the point of the fic by a long shot but i’m also extremely obsessed with Weed Eddie, so real
She drains my soul... she drains it not - niham87 / @niham87​
ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED WITH THIS CONCEPT
am a complete sucker for paranormal world building that satirizes bureaucracy 
Is that a trope? If so that’s my favorite
I did it. I’m picking a single favorite. You know what that is growth dot gif
ANYWAY i love the concept, i love the humor, i love beth instantly clicking with annie
I love her and mick’s sort of grudging professional courtesy
Love beth as a champion of environmental responsibility and all of the underworld being like …...okay??
cannot wait to see where this goes
Nine-Tenths - riosnecktattoo / @riosnecktattoo​
*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*
sometimes i think about rio putting beth’s hair in a ponytail and have to go lie down
science please explain why this rUinS mE
wait hold on i skipped ahead
HEY KIDS DO YOU LIKE UNBEARABLY CUTE DOMESTIC TENDERNESS
opens with rio sleepily holding beth’s hand to his heart so that’s the kind of thing you’ll be dealing with
uGH theY’RE sO CUTe
idk why precisely but rio adding hair ties to his bracelet collection is my undoing every time
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Missed Call - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​
Rio doesn’t come home from a job when he’s supposed to. Beth (and I!!!!!!!) slowly loses her mind
Truly a masterpiece of rising tension
Will literally never forgive her for calling this light angst
I was SO STRESSED OUT
The first person to point out there was an author’s note at the beginning I obvs didn’t read is getting blocked
crush - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​
Listen even though this is centered around two OCs, they are OCs FROM a (n iconic) brio fic AND Beth, Ruby and Rio all make cameos (I mean, Rio’s pretty present since he lives in Mar’s mind rent free bc they are THE SWEETEST MOST ADORABLE BEST OF FRIENDS so idk if i’d call it a cameo but whatever)
and even if it didn’t feature any official GG characters I’d still rec is bc that’s mY SON AND this fic is TOO CUTE
I have so many feelings over mar and rio growing up and not knowing how to cope with girls becoming a Thing in their life and how it affects their friendship and mar feeling left behind but (SPOILERS) at the end of the story rio starts feeling that too and it’s so poignant knowing how that’s going to continue in delinquents
while mar may be my son, i also claim elena’s #1 stan status
before you’re like meg you’re only reccing it bc it’s a bday present ask yourselves do i really strike you as the kind of person that wouldn’t be equally obnoxious about this either way?
truly cannot fathom how hard i have fallen for these OCs i don’t normally do that
@foxmagpie is definitely a witch
The Ottoman - Niham87 / @niham87​
look i will be the first to admit that i don’t go near as bonkers over the ottoman line in 308 as y’all do
(don’t get me wrong, i love it!!! I love that he laughs and i love that she’s pleased it just doesn’t hit my lose my whole mind button like idk, the dubby or the 306 convo, idk why)
BUT i v v v much love the context this delightful Rio POV pwp gives it
am also absolutely feral for 209 missing scene fic
and anything that captures the complexity of Rio’s s3 feelings for Beth and how twisted they’ve become
so this scratches a bunch of itches, is what i’m trying to say
Bet On It - zetuslapetus / @querenaxx​
*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*
That’s what my brain does when I think about Beth and Rio meeting in ch 1
am DESPERATELY OBSESSED WITH the tension between the two of them in this fic
I love how it plays with the ways they have to rely on but don’t trust each other
plus FAKE DATING and BED SHARING (fair warning hasn’t happened yet but the set up is there)
originally supposed to be 2 chapters, already up to 4, prayer circle it goes on forever
do you like drugs (tonight) - s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe​
v important focus on hydration, other fic should take note
extremely about the use of cut to and then flashback to enhance the ‘we were on drugs’ vibe
speaking of, beth and rio absolutely would take ecstasy to prove they are fun bc they are the exact kind of idiots that would peer pressure themselves
so glad beth kept her purse, got a bit stressed there for a second, clutches in that kind of circumstance are A Risk
not that i would know
FLAWLESS USE OF VOICEMAIL TBH
really love the ongoing denial that they are remotely into each other while proceeding to demonstrate how they are in fact, extremely into each other, great vibe
rio dances
I know my brain broke too
mmmm bacon
Navigate A Broken Path - flashindie / @pynkhues​
*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*
I have a long standing tradition of getting unreasonably obsessed with side characters so i’m not like, entirely surprised by how obsessed i am with both Mick and Mary Pat but i never in a million years considered them as a ship
AND Y E T
they fit????? so perfectly?????? It’s amazing how she developes them individually enough that i look at them together and think ah yes this makes perfect sense for both characters
and they’re such an amazing foil to Beth and Rio? 
can ships have foils? do i know what a foil is? 
unimportant
GUYS you dON’T uNDERStAN d 
hell i don’t understand
how absolutely very dare you make me care about YET ANOTHER set of gg ‘verse children
do not read this fic if you have no interest in feelings you zero percent asked for
wHA t hAPPeNED iN aLASkA?????????
A Moment’s Silence - femalegothic / @bethsuglywigs​
*makes sign of the cross*
y’all are gonna make me rediscover religion
extremely appreciate the author’s note approach to backstory top notch prioritization
listen it’s basically 3k of beth deep throating rio idk what more you need me to say about it
it is…..good stuff
bless the kinkmeme or fest whatever we’re calling it
praise - civillove / @blainesebastian​
I mean you had me at “three times rio calls beth a good girl and one time he really means it”
ephemeral rio
I left that note for myself in here in the middle of the night and haven’t the foggiest what i was thinking but i stand by it none the less
okay okay i think i know what i meant, this fic (as do all of my fav civillove brio fics) has this sort of like, liminal, in the quiet moments feel to them that makes the moments and feelings somehow feel like i’m catching a glimpse of something secret and precious???
idk i just really like it okay
Heart and Soul - riosnecktattoo / @riosnecktattoo​
oh look more unbearably sweet domestic tenderness, this time to music
thank you ma’am for my life
rio remembers beth used to play piano and gets her one and revoltingly cute shenanigans result
also hilarity
and sexiness
this fic has it all, truly
shout out to mick who sees no reason to keep rio’s feelings to himself
good girls tumblr fic - prettylittlementirosa / @hypermania​​
cheating and reccing a whole series
It’s my list and i can do what i wanna
stop crying about it, it’s four fics and they’re all AMAZING absolutely impossible to pick a fav
truly flawless characterization, next level ability to capture evocative mood, cannot get enough
three’s a crowd: who knew ballroom dancing while dean watches and grinds his teeth could be so sexy 
(trick question everything about that premise sounds A++++ and boy howdy does it live up)
feel it on the way home: rio tries to break up with beth, it goes about as well as you’d expect
(thE angSty tenSioN)
i want to play the game: [from the floor] i’m still not ready to talk about it
(rio/turner, missing scene, 10000000% a taste of what went down in that hotel room)
june after dark: pitch perfect annie pov, really really love the take that Annie is the baby whisperer, can’t fully explain why but it feels incredibly right
(ANNIE X NANCY COULD WORK SO WELL YOU GUYS)
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