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#so broken but soooooo pretty LIKE
uppoompat · 15 days
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POOM PHURIPAN as JOE MY STAND-IN (2024)
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lesbianfakir · 3 months
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To elaborate on my ruekirtho throuple thoughts, sometimes I think about a world where their shared love for mytho brought rue and fakir together instead of driving them apart. They’re both incredibly lonely kids who have lost too much and, as much as they care for mytho, a heartless doll isn’t replacement for real human companionship. So they find each other.
Rue knows it will never last. No one beyond her Prince will ever love her. She sees the way Fakir throws rocks at the flock of crows that gathers around her. When he discovers her identity—and she knows he will discover her identity one day—they’ll go back to being enemies. He is the Knight and she is the daughter of the Raven, his killer. Still, it’s nice to have a friend even for a little while. So she lets herself forget. She forgets who, what, she is. She forgets that there was ever a before. She forgets that they won’t last.
Fakir knows there is something very, very wrong in Rue’s life. He sees the deep scratches that stand out against her almost unnaturally pale skin. She speaks in a hushed tone with a haunted look in her eyes when it’s time to go home. She won’t tell him anything, though. He doesn’t even know where she lives; it’s as if she disappears at the end of the day. He just hopes that one day, when it comes down to it, he’ll be able to protect her from whatever haunts her.
By the time the story goes into motion, the two, along with Mytho, are near inseparable. When Mytho begins regaining his heart, Rue and Fakir work together to put a stop to it. When Rue begins losing track of the days, feeling as if someone else is trying to claw their way out of her chest, she almost goes to Fakir for help. Almost.
It is, of course, Fakir who shatters the illusion that is Rue. Her one and only friend calls her an ugly crow, and in that moment she remembers what she is. What she’s always been. They’ve been enemies from birth. This “friendship” was nothing more than the a sad illusion created by a lonely girl—a girl who no longer exists. And she knows now, in her father’s absence, her “friend” will die at her hand. This is their fate and fate cannot be changed. Still, it was nice while it lasted.
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clownprince · 10 months
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anyway i thjnk the most fucked up thing about i am a gun is that bruce is fucking right. his mental version of joker is damn accurate. even so early on in his career he's able to see past joker's evil uncaring monster outer persona and recognize the human inside of him who's alone and afraid and hurting, who desperately wants to be saved but doesn't know how to be anything other than the joker. even if you disregard that "the last smile" story the tkj script makes it Quite Clear that joker very badly wants to accept batman's offer but he doesn't feel like rehabilitation is a viable option for him (for multiple reasons)
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flowersandbigteeth · 3 months
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Now I’m thinking about how cute of a story it’d be if a human woman reader had a preference towards monster men, but she kept getting used by a lot of monster fetishists to fill their own fantasies. Getting her heart broken constantly as they didn’t see her as a being with real feelings. And eventually she gives up…But of course x monster comes into her life and tries his best to court her cause he actually does love her and see her as a person. Reader of course is very jaded and thinks he’ll use and abuse her too, just like all the others.
If you’re still interested in writing somber stories with a happily ever after in the end, something like this could be fun to explore. The ugly exploitive relationship dynamics taken onto human women by monster men.
Like just imagine reader is sitting in a park, having a picnic, a monster comes up to her, is pleasant, and reader thinks that this is going to be “the one” finally, and gets her heart broken again when he asks her for a one night stand. Or even worse…hands her a card to work at a human x monster exclusive private fetish club…
Um...so I ended up with something close to this, but kind of with a different spin. I've been wanting to do a mothman for soooooo long and this just came together in the right way. So here he is ^_^
Mothman (Roth) x f reader
Word Count: 9.5K
General Plot: Your gargoyle crush asks you out on a date and things don't go as planned.
TW: nsfw mothman smut, moth genetalia, a lot of teeth, kidnapping, sexy pheromones, a bit of violence, reader being tied up and gagged, revenge, mating and soft yandere vibes, bad boyfriends
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“Five, ten, fifteen…fifteen,” you sighed counting your tips as you sat on the curb outside the kitchen of the Italian restaurant you worked at. 
Tears bubbled in your eyes as you realized you hadn’t made nearly enough to cover the rent you were already late on. 
“How you doing mite,” a deep voice rumbled behind you. 
You heard a squeak and then a thunk as Tyre, the chef, dumped some trash. Wiping your eyes, you peered up at him, trying to hide the redness on your cheeks. Tyre was a handsome gargoyle with slate gray skin and piercing blue eyes. He smirked as your eyes met. Sniffling, you tried to clean up your face. 
“Nothing, nothing, I’m fine.” 
He glanced down at the odd dollars and some change in your hand. 
“Bad night?” 
You sighed. 
“It’s always a bad night.” 
He scratched his chin, eyes traveling from the top of your head to the slip-proof shoes you had to wear. 
“There’s someplace I ought to take you,” he said, eyes taking on a predatory gleam. “You like monsters, right?” 
You blushed, unsure what to say now that your secret wish seemed like it might be coming true. You’d always had a crush on Tyre. He was big and strong with a rakish smile that made all the waitresses swoon. 
“Um…yeah, I guess.”
“Good,” he said, grinning. “You’re off tomorrow night. I saw it on the schedule.” 
You were going to beg for another shift from one of the other waitresses, but if you were only going to make a few bucks, you figured you couldn’t pass up the chance for a date with your crush. 
“Yeah,” you murmured, your breath a gasp. 
He pulled a phone from an apron pocket and handed it to you. 
“Put your address in here. I’ll pick you up. Wear something pretty.” 
Overcome, you could hardly speak, typing your address and phone number into the phone. 
“See you tomorrow night, mite,” he winked before walking back inside. 
The door slam made you jump, but your heart was already pattering. Tyre had finally noticed you! Ever since you’d started that job, you’d been in love with him. It was true. You did like monsters, but not in a weird way. You were curious, but you were too shy ever to ask Tyre any questions about himself. You didn’t want him to think you were a weirdo fetishist trying to get in his pants for a thrill. But finally, he’d noticed you and asked you on a date! 
Despite the lack of money in your pocket, you hopped up from the curb with a pep in your step. Maybe something was finally going right for you for once. 
When you arrived home, you frowned at the yellow notice taped to your door. 
EVICTION NOTICE: VACATE THE PREMISES WITHIN 15 DAYS OR YOU WILL BE REMOVED
Your breath caught in your throat, and you wondered if you should call Tyre and cancel your date. Walking inside, you frowned. Your apartment was small, if you could even call it an apartment. It was only one room with no kitchen or bathroom. You had to use the common toilet down the hall, and you either ate food you brought home from the restaurant or cooked noodles on your hotplate. Still, you couldn’t even afford this little closet. 
Where were you supposed to go? Pulling out the crumpled fifteen dollars, you stuffed it in the large mug with all your tips. You already knew how much was inside. You counted it over and over again every night, hoping it would magically bloom to a higher sum. 
One hundred and fifteen dollars. That’s how much you had to figure out a new home with. While tears bit at your eyes, your feet were exhausted from running around all day, so you flopped on your dipping air mattress and fell asleep. 
You woke to the next morning to your phone buzzing and grinned at the message on the screen. 
“Pick you up at 9.” 
Scooping up the phone, you beamed. As you dropped it on your chest, you indulged yourself in a quick fantasy. You’d go on a date, Tyre would fall madly in love with you, and then you’d move into his flat, have his little gargoyle babies, and everything would turn out just fine. This had to have happened for a reason, right? All afternoon, you skipped around your apartment, trying on your meager array of outfits for just the right one. 
When 9 came around, you sat on the edge of your bed, checking and rechecking the message. 9, he did say 9, right? Right. He’ll be here. 
Thirty minutes later, there was a heavy knock on the door. You tripped over yourself to answer it, eyes lighting up the moment you met the cool blue on the other side. He looked you over, a meaty hand braced against the doorframe, showing off his massive biceps. 
“Look at you, mite,” he said, brushing a curl of hair from your face. “You clean up nice.” 
“Ah, thanks, Tyre. It’s nothing really,” you half whispered, words having a difficult time making themselves past your lips. 
“Come on,” he said, taking you by the arm. “You’re gonna have fun where we’re going.”
“Where are we going?” you asked, from the inside of Tyre’s Denali, as he cruised down a dark alley. 
You had only just realized it was a little late to be going to a restaurant, so where was he taking you? He only smirked at you, eyes glittering in the dim vehicle. 
“You’ll see,” was all he would say. 
You should have been concerned, but the truth was you were down bad. You were about to be evicted, had hardly any friends, and no boyfriend. Your last situationship with a werewolf had been a humiliating disaster. You needed this. He pulled into a parking lot, flashing a black card, and a gate lifted, allowing you inside. 
“Here we are,” he said when he parked, circling the car to help you out. 
When he’d set you on the ground, he frowned for a moment, scrubbing his chin. 
“Let’s’ fix this,” he said, grabbing the tight skirt you were wearing and hiking it up your hips so it was more of a mini skirt. Then he yanked on the neck of your sweater, pushing it down over your shoulders.  
“What? Where are we going?” you asked, getting a little more concerned. 
He only looked at you lazily, reaching a hand down to smudge the makeup at the corner of your eyes more. 
“A private club. Freaky girls like you love this shit,” he assured you, though he was becoming less and less assuring. 
What did he mean by “freaky girls”? You were just a normal girl. You liked reading books and cooking when you had the chance. There was nothing “freaky” about you at all. 
Grabbing your shoulders with his big hands, he shoved you forward through the dark lot. Around you, large, monster-sized, luxury vehicles were parked in neat rows. When you reached an odd metal door, he knocked with his knuckles. A hatch slid open, and bright green eyes peered out. 
“What do you want?” 
They narrowed on Tyre. 
“You’re not welcome here.” 
You gulped, cheeks reddening, looking between the pair of eyes and Tyre. 
“Tell Roth I brought him a new girl,” he said, “Told him I’d pay my debt.” 
The eyes flicked down to you for a moment, and the door squeaked open. 
“Tyre, what is going-?” 
You didn’t get a chance to speak as the large, man with pale skin and green eyes snatched your wrist up and dragged you away from him. 
“Tyre! Tyre!” you half shouted, confused as he jerked you down a dark hall, but looking back, the gargoyle only smiled and waved at you. 
“Stop screaming. You’re disturbing the ambiance,” the man holding you in his firm fist, hissed. 
When he opened his mouth, you could see sharp fangs framing straight white teeth. The rest of your words caught in your throat as he dragged you through the club. 
On a large platform in the center, human women dressed in skimpy outfits danced on stage to oddly alluring music. Where the bright stage lights didn’t shine, you could see monsters of all kinds with human women clinging to them engaged in a frightening variety of sexual activity. 
Three gargoyles were sharing one woman, splayed on a table. A centaur had a woman strapped to him with some sort of harness, and your eyes popped when you saw the way he used her. Your heart started to race as you put two and two together. 
You’d heard about these clubs. Places where well-paying monsters could play around with human women to fulfill their fetish fantasies. Yes, you liked monsters, but you would have never stepped into a place like this, not for all the money in the world! You experienced enough creepy fetishists as a waitress. It seemed the only time anyone offered you any real money was to take you home for a night of their own entertainment. 
Betrayal cut you to the core, remembering Tyre’s words. He’d brought you here to repay a debt! He never had any plan of dating you at all! You were nothing more than a trinket to be traded! 
Panic startled you to your senses, and you started to fight the vampire holding you. 
“LET ME GO! LET ME GO!” you screamed, jerking so hard on your wrist that you thought you might break it. 
He narrowed his eyes at you. 
“Jesus, that bastard. He tricked you to come here, didn’t he?” he hissed, frowning. 
He paused, thinking for a second, and for a moment, you thought he might let you go. 
“Still, I’d better take you to Roth and see what he wants to do with you. Can’t have you running off to the cops and blowing up our whole operation.” 
Clubs like these weren’t exactly legal. Along with the girls, they usually sold drugs and were the sort of place where you could hire a shady person to do below-board jobs.
To silence your screams, and to the amusement of a few of the monsters standing nearby with drinks, he slipped the tie from around his neck and tied it tightly around your head, before he stripped off his belt and used it to secure your hands. Then he flopped you over his broad shoulder, carrying you out of the larger room up a set of stairs. You bit on the gag, desperately trying to saw away at it with your teeth, but it was no use. 
You couldn’t see, bouncing on his shoulder, but you heard a door open, and then you saw it shut. 
“Tyre brought you a girl, boss,” he said. 
Suddenly, he flopped you on the floor, forgetting you were a fragile human. You squealed as you hit the carpet hard, pain radiating up your side. Looking up, you froze in fear. The room was dim, the edges hardly visible, the only light a small lamp on a large wooden desk. Peering past the light, you met the gaze of two glowing, red orbs on the face of a dark body you could hardly make out. All you could tell was that it looked large. 
“Why’s she tied up?” 
The voice was almost a hiss, like silk sheets rubbing together. 
“Tyre tricked her into coming here.” 
The orbs disappeared for a moment, then appeared again along with a long sigh. 
“That idiot.” 
“What do you want me to do with her? Dump her? Put her on the floor? She’s pretty enough. She’ll make us some money.” 
Your heart pounded, as your future was being discussed without you. Dump her? 
“Leave,” the voice barked, sounding irritated. 
You whimpered as you heard the heavy footsteps of the vampire leaving and the door slamming behind him. There was a rustling, and the big body behind the desk grew much larger. It wasn’t a shape you recognized, two large protrusions arching over either side of its head and then two more feathery-looking ones on top. Heavy steps echoed in the quiet room as it rounded the furniture and loomed over you. 
A clawed hand emerged from the darkness, clutching your chin, slowly turning it from side to side as his red eyes examined you. 
“Hmm. A little flame,” he purred. 
You tried to scream again, but all that came out was a muffled whimper. 
The protrusions jumped as the creature chuckled. The monster kneeled down next to you, and only then, you could make out his features, just barely. His neck was thick and fuzzy, as was his body, the angular slabs of muscles softened by a coating of black down. Up close, you could see the two side protrusions were actually silver wings, and the ones on top, were elegant antennae. They twitched as he looked you over. His facial features were invisible behind more black fuzz.
“I’ve been wanting a pet,” he said more to himself than you. 
The red orbs narrowed to slits. 
“Do you know what we do at this club?” he asked. 
You’d gotten a pretty good idea when the vampire gave you the impromptu walk-through. So you nodded. 
His lips cracked, and jagged white teeth glinted at you. 
“Good.” 
Clawed fingers slipped through your hair, scraping your scalp. 
“You’ll be well fed and kept, but you are my pet. Mine.” 
You let out another muffled squeal, shaking your head as tears tumbled down your cheeks. A thumb slid through the wetness before traveling to his red tongue. 
“Mmm,” he said, smirking. “Even your tears are sweet.” 
By that point, you were hyperventilating into your gag, the world getting spinny as you panicked. You’d started your night daydreaming about gargoyle babies, and now you were being adopted as some kind of fuck pet for a monster boss. Your breaths grew increasingly shallow until the darkness writhing at the edges of your vision merged into a large black spot, and the world went silent. 
You jerked awake by the sound of screaming. The stone floor beneath your cheek was cold, so you sat up abruptly, only to awkwardly flop over onto your side. You were still gagged, but now you were bound by your ankles, as well as your wrists. The room you were in was dark except for a small lamp hanging from the ceiling. It put out just enough light to see the large figure of the mothman who’d taken you as his pet and an orc you didn’t recognize. You shrank back against the wall behind you, immediately afraid of what would come next, but their attention wasn’t on you. 
Another scream pierced the air, making you wince. It sounded almost like…Tyre. 
“Please! Please! She came willingly, I swear!” he said, his tone frantic, all the aloof coolness you’d crushed on erased. 
“Did you tell her what we do here before you brought her?” the orc barked.
“She was dying to get her cunt pumped with monster cock. All those girls love that shit,” he spat. “She’s just a whore like the rest of them.” 
“Tyre?” you murmured, but it only came out as a quiet grunt behind the gag. 
Roth nodded at the Orc and you heard chain rattle, then a crunch as he whipped the heavy metal into Tyre’s face. For a moment, you almost felt redeemed. Like Roth might care about your honor, but his next words evaporated that thought. 
“You know I don't like liars, Tyre,” he hissed, his voice still terrifyingly quiet and emotionless. “You brought me a problem. Now I've got to tie up a bunch of loose ends.” 
You were shocked Tyre could still speak, though his words garbled. 
“She's a slut! She wants it! Just ask her! She was ready to open her legs for me for nothing!” 
Tears poured down your cheeks, hearing the gargoyle you'd been shyly admiring for a year now finally revealing what he really thought of you. He was just like your last monster “boyfriend” who’d dumped you when he realized you were more than just a doll to play with. 
One night after hooking up, his phone started going nuts while he was sleeping. Unable to help yourself, you'd glanced at his texts, humiliated to find he'd been detailing his conquest to his packmates. You were just a joke. 
A “monster-cock hungry slut,” in his words. You stupidly let him sleep peacefully through the night, only asking him about it in the morning. You remembered his sharp green eyes full of humor and his disgusting sneer when you'd confronted him. 
“What'd you think this was? You really think a weak little human like you is good for anything but a quick fuck? Don’t fool yourself. You wanted my knot like a dirty little bitch in heat and I gave it to you. End of story.” 
You broke into big, ugly, wet sobs as your whole world collapsed around you. Your body shuddered against the gritty cold floor, tears forming dark spots on the surface. 
Across the room Roth’s antenna twitched. He gave the orc a look before crossing the room to crouch down next to you. He dug a thick hand into your hair, lifting your head. Your tears blurred his glowing eyes to wobbly blobs. 
“You're crying for him? Is he telling the truth? Are we wrong to punish him?” 
You sniffed, whimpering and shook your head. He dropped your hair abruptly, the gesture suddenly becoming something close to comfort. He patted your head a little stiffly as if he wasn't sure what to do with you. 
You watched him blink, looking away for a moment before he scooped you up, curling his wings around the two of you. He carried you back across the room, turning your face into his soft chest before he spoke. 
“I want his teeth when you're done with him,” he hissed at the Orc. 
Tyre begged behind you, his voice brassy.
“She's lying! That bitch is lying!” 
Roth didn't even flinch, striding confidently out of the room. As he carried you down a dark hall you heard screams following you until they finally faded. 
Roth walked slowly up a long staircase until he reached an elevator. It occurred to you, every room you’d been in was dim, this elevator included, just light enough for someone with average eyesight not to trip over themselves. 
Your stomach dropped as the elevator ascended, finally letting out an echoing DING when it reached the desired floor. 
He stepped forward and you peeked out from behind his wing. 
You were in a beautiful, but dark penthouse. Through the wall to wall windows you could see the stars of the night sky twinkling through. The furnishings were expensive, all black and chrome. 
“Welcome home,” the mothman said, his voice ever soft. 
He set you down on a black couch and you flinched as he crouched in front of you. His long nails picked at the knots binding your wrists and ankles until they were free. 
The moment your limbs were your own again, you slid to the opposite side of the couch, frantically untangling the gag. 
“Let me go!” were the first words that bubbled out of your lips. 
Roth’s blood eyes narrowed at you. It was unnerving you couldn't really read his expression, his facial features obscured by dark fur. 
“Go where?” he asked, calmly, his head tipped to the side. “I had my associates look into you. (Y/N), broke waitress, evicted…where will you go?” 
Your cheeks burned that he knew so much about you. 
“I don't know. Not here. Not a pet.” 
“You'll live better here as a pet than on the street as a stray.” 
You blinked and he was a few feet closer to you, stretching his long fingers out to drag a knuckle down your cheek. 
“No matter. I'm not letting you go.” 
You snorted. 
“Until you get bored with me and toss me out again.” 
His eyes became narrow slits. 
“Did someone throw you out, (Y/N)?” 
Your eyes burned into his, heavy with rage. This was just the cherry on your monster loving cake wasn't it? At least, he was honest and called you what you were to him. A toy. A pet. An object to break and throw away. 
“It doesn't matter. You're all the same.” 
You heard a hiss and then his claws pricked your cheeks, pinching your face. Bright eyes filled your vision. 
“Are we?” He asked. 
Your confidence faltered and you swallowed a lump in your throat. 
“You own a human fetish club. Explain to me how I'm wrong. You see us as weak objects to be passed around.”  
He bared his sharp teeth at you. 
“You will not be passed around. You. Are. Mine.” 
You drew your legs underneath your chin, glaring at him, but winced as a sharp pain shot through you. 
“Ouch!” 
His eyes widened and his fingers left your cheeks, clawing at the tight skirt you still wore. You tried to wiggle away, but his wing boxed you in so he could glide a thumb over your bare skin. It seemed impossible he could see anything in such a dark room, but he growled at the painful spot on your hip where you'd landed when the vampire dropped you. 
“Don't!” you hissed, jerking your skirt down. 
You watched his eyes open and shut, before he stood. 
“Damian!” he said so softly, you weren't sure who he was talking to.  
You jumped as an elegant Naga appeared, wiping his hands with a towel. 
“You called, sir?” He asked his yellow eyes drifting to you only for a moment before they returned to Roth. 
“Bring Vince. Make her some food.”  
The Naga nodded sharply and disappeared. 
He sat next to you on the couch, stretching his wings slowly and resting his forearms on the tops of his legs. Seeing him closely, now, you could see he was tall with broad shoulders, not including his massive wingspan. 
“The girls I employ want to be here,” he said, turning his face to you. “They get paid well and they enjoy their work.” 
“Is that your pitch?” you sneered. 
He flashed his teeth, chuckling. 
“No, you won't be working the floor, but you should know the facts,” he said. “Tyre broke a pact bringing you here. I don't kidnap humans.” 
“Except me.” 
“You're a unique situation.” 
“I won't tell anyone if you let me go,” you promised. 
He was hard to read, but you got the impression he was examining you. 
“I'm not letting you go. I want you.” 
“What the fuck does that mean?” You blurted, your heart starting to race again. 
Roth didn't have to answer as the elevator dinged and the vampire from before stepped out. 
“You hurt her. Apologize.” 
Vince’s eyes found you and his eyebrows rose. Giving the mothman a contrite glance, he crossed the room, bending down to one knee in front of you and dipping his head. 
“Apologies, miss, I was too rough with you. It won't happen again.”  
“Good. Get back to work,” Roth said, tone blunt. 
“Have a pleasant evening, miss.” 
Vince stood and winked at you with a little smirk, before he boarded the elevator again and disappeared. 
“Come here, you need to eat,” Roth said, gesturing for you to follow him. 
You wanted to say no, but you hadn't eaten, expecting a quiet dinner with Tyre so you slowly got to your feet and crept after him. 
In the dining room Damian had set the table with a little flickering candle and red roses. Roth politely pulled out your seat for you, encouraging you to sit down. Though you were hungry, you glared at the food in front of you as he took his own seat. 
“Something wrong?” he asked placing a napkin in his lap. 
“How do I know you haven’t drugged this?” 
“Why would I?” 
You blinked at him, opening and closing your mouth as you thought of what accusations to spew. 
“I don’t know! So you can have your way with me or whatever!” 
Though you couldn’t see his lips, a triangle of teeth appeared as if he were smirking. 
“I don’t need to drug your food to do that. Personally, I would rather my lover be conscious when I have her.” 
You crossed your arms. 
“How many lovers have you had?” 
He snorted, picking up his knife and carefully cutting his meat into little cubes. 
“That’s a rather personal question little flame,” he said, before sticking a bit of meat in his mouth and chewing. “What would you say if I asked you the same thing?” 
Your cheeks burned, realizing it was a very rude question. His low, scratchy voice drove you insane. Every word he spoke was soft, deliberate, and calm. None of your fussing seemed to move him, much. Unsure what else to say, you turned your attention to your food. The first bite was apprehensive, but after you’d swallowed that, your hunger took over and you quickly consumed the rest. 
“Damian is a good cook,” you commented. 
“I can tell he’s happy to have someone new to cook for,” he said, scooting a vegetable out of the way with his fork. “I usually have the same thing every night but this is new.” 
Your cheeks burned that he’d made such an effort, but with nothing left on your plate, you weren’t sure what to do next. 
“Come with me,” he said rising. 
You narrowed your eyes on the vegetables he’d left behind, only eating the meat, but followed him out of the room. 
The penthouse was large and airy, the atmosphere perfumed with rows of night blooming flowers arranged in planters outside of the open glass doors. 
“You keep the doors open?” you asked. 
“Though I enjoy my luxuries, my people rested in trees for thousands of years. I like to feel the breeze,” he explained. “Don’t be concerned. You are very safe here. I have security posted everywhere.” 
Your eyes jumped to your forehead hearing that. 
“Are you often under attack?” 
“My business is a dangerous one, but I’ve been at it for many years. You are safe. This is our room.” 
He opened a heavy door and led you into a sumptuous bedroom. A four poster bed sat at the center with silver chiffon curtains fluttering in the breeze flowing in through the open balcony doors. Moonflowers and datura swayed on an arbor framing the entrance, the moon hanging in the center. It’s blue light cast a silver glow over the plush white chairs and vanity. 
“Our room?” you gulped. “I have to sleep with you?” 
He chuckled. 
“I don’t sleep on a bed, usually,” he said. “My kind sleep upright on a perch. The bed is for your comfort.” 
You shuddered, a dark thought passing through your head. 
“H-how…how did you know you would need that?” 
In the darkness, you followed his red eyes. 
“Damian brought it up while you were resting.” 
You wrinkled your nose. Collapsed from panic on a hard stone floor while he tortured Tyre was hardly resting. He suddenly turned to you, grabbing you by your waist and placing you gently on the bed. 
“W-what are you doing?” you mewled as his claws curled around the edge of your skirt, scooting it further up your thigh. 
He pinned you with a glance, before turning his attention to the bedside table and extracting a little pot. Opening it, he scooped some gel from inside and carefully smoothed it over the darkened bit of skin where a bruise was forming. It tingled, easing the slight ache. 
His eyes lingered on the patch of skin, before his claws split the fabric. 
“Stop! Stop it!” you screeched, trying to push him away with your smaller hands. 
It was only then you really understood how strong he really was. He didn’t budge, but captured your wrists in a hand while the other shredded your sweater. 
“I’ll buy you better clothes,” he assured you when you were sitting underneath him in only your underwear. 
You regretted wearing your skimpiest pair, as you’d planned on seducing Tyre with them. Now you felt naked and vulnerable, the red light of Roth’s eyes outlining your curves. 
He swallowed, heavily, making a small grunt in the back of his throat before he released you and stood. 
“Sleep.” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “The sun is rising.” 
Peering past him, you could see the sky getting ever so slightly lighter. He pressed a button and heavy blackout blinds lowered automatically. The sliding door slid shut, making the room pitch black except for Roth’s eyes still shining in the dark. 
You let out a yip as his wings fluttered, stirring the air in the room and he delicately perched on the rail at the end of the bed. 
“Are you going to watch me sleep all day?” you barked, crossing your arms.
“Yes.” 
You sputtered your displeasure, but weren’t sure what to say. Hurriedly scooting under the coverlet, without meaning to you let out a satisfied hiss as you sank into the bed. Having slept on a droopy air mattress for many years, this bed felt like you were nestled in clouds. As much as you would have liked to stay awake, glaring at Roth until he went away, your eyes slid shut and you drifted off. 
“Miss, miss,” you heard a voice in your ear. 
You pried your eyes open, taking a moment to remember where you were. Sitting up suddenly, you were met with Damian’s yellow gaze. 
“Time to wake up,” he said, “I have breakfast for you in the dining room.” 
You blinked, realizing you could see him fairly well, and glanced at the windows to see the blackout blinds had been lifted and the sun was well on it’s way below the horizon. 
“But it’s evening,” you muttered. 
He smirked, slithering around you to open a door and then another. 
“We operate on the boss’s clock here. Mothmen like the dark, they don’t see to well in the sunlight. Here, this is the bathroom and the closet is here. I spent the afternoon purchasing you some new clothes, but if you’d like something else, just tell me.” 
“Oh, um…okay.” 
Damian gave you a slight bow and slid out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Taking a breath, you climbed out of the coverlet, first examining the balcony. Standing just in the doorway, since you were still dressed in lingerie, you could see the whole city spread out before you, streetlights flicking on one by one as the sun set. 
On the deck, along with the flowers, was a swinging chair and a small fish pond. You watched the white finned fish swimming in lazy circles  below a few lotus flowers before you went back inside. 
Poking your head in the bathroom, you found it was quite luxurious and to your surprise when you flicked the switch a real light turned on, not the dimmed bulbs everywhere else. Damian, you guessed, had stocked it with a fresh electric toothbrush and all the essentials. Oddly, there were either the exact products you had in your bathroom or the not value brand versions. Instead of the face cream you used, there was a high end cream you’d always dreamed of buying. The same with the makeup, hair supplies, and soaps. Satisfied you had what you needed, you crept into the closet. 
It was one of those fancy closets, you’d seen in magazines with clothes arranged by color and an island in the center full of shelves holding jewelry, scarves, shoes, and-
A sharp scream burst from your lips. 
Damian appeared in the doorway, out of breath as if he’d been slithering at top speed. 
“What’s wrong?” he gasped. 
You pointed a shaking finger at what was a multi compartment jewelrybox, but instead of jewels inside there were carefully arranged, polished, teeth. Hundreds of teeth. 
“What the fuck is that?” you squealed, jumping behind Damian’s body as if he could shield you from them. 
He let out a sharp breath, looking relieved. 
“Heavens, I thought something was wrong,” he sighed. 
Your eyes darted between him and the box of teeth. 
“There IS something wrong! What the fuck?” 
“That’s the boss’s collection,” he said. 
“D-do those teeth come from people?” you whispered. “Are they real?” 
Damian nodded as if that was the most perfectly normal thing in the world. 
“He likes to collect the teeth of his enemies. It’s some mothman cultural thing. It’s kind of neat if you take a good look at them. There are specimens from several species.” 
“He keeps them in his closet?” 
“Where else would he keep them?”
You felt light headed and slumped against the vanity sitting just by the closet door. Were Tyre’s teeth already part of the collection?
“It’s part of his culture, (Y/N),” he said. “Children in your culture put their teeth under their pillow for their parent’s to collect. Think of it that way.”
You shook your head, rubbing your eyes. 
“Please, please stop. I don’t want to hear any more.” 
“Is anything else the matter? Do you like your clothes?” he asked pleasantly. 
“I-I didn’t get a chance to look.” 
Damian nodded and slipped into the closet, returning with a handful of items. 
“Why not wear this outfit,” he said. “I saw it on a Pinterest board and I think it will suit your figure.” 
“Er…thanks,” you said, taking the pile as he slipped out of the room so you could dress. 
You took a long shower, trying to clear your mind of the teeth cache you’d stumbled across. When it was finally time to put on clothes, you had to admit, the outfit Damian had chosen was quite stylish, though you looked a bit like a mafia wife with a diamond tennis necklace around your neck and matching bracelets on your wrist. 
You crept down the hall to the dining room to find Roth waiting on you, surrounded by paperwork. You yelped when to his side you saw another monster you recognized handcuffed and gagged on his knees next to him. His nose was bloody and one eye was swollen. 
“What the- Elijah…what?”
Roth’s eyes rose to you, lingering for a moment before he gestured towards your breakfast. 
“Eat, your food is getting cold,” he murmured, turning his attention back to whatever he was working on as if the monster by his calf wasn’t eyeing you for help. 
You hardly noticed if the fluffy pancakes Damian had provided were good or not, because you were trying to sort out what the monster “boyfriend” who’d jilted you a year ago was doing handcuffed in the dining room. It was hard to know where to look and words escaped you as your mind spun with messy thoughts. 
Halfway through your meal, Roth gathered his stack of papers and tapped them on the desk to straighten them before he spoke. 
“Now that that’s all done,” he said. “Time to other business.” 
He stood, dragging Elijah by his collar along the table to you, leaning on it casually as if everything about this wasn’t very, very illegal. 
“What would you like me to do with this one?” he asked, a clawed hand slipping through your freshly washed hair. 
You stared up at him for a moment, a bite of pancake still half chewed in your mouth before you swallowed it hard. Your mind’s eye immediately went to the tooth collection in the closet. 
“Um…I don’t know? What do you mean ‘do with him?’” 
Elijah whimpered loudly, begging for mercy. 
Roth’s eyes narrowed and he kicked him sharply to get him to sit still. 
“Well, I can give him to my boys and have his teeth extracted or you can keep him around the club polishing the girl’s shoes if it makes you feel any better. They make a game of bullying miscreants. I’ll only take his fangs and claws if you’d like to show him mercy. But he’s not getting away without a punishment.” 
He grabbed the werewolf, by the neck, his red eyes reflecting in Elijah’s green. 
“Monsters like you make me sick. I ought to take your balls.”
He pried his lips apart, his thumb running over a fang. Though Roth’s voice was low, it was thick with a terrifying cruelty. 
“All that power, all the gifts you’ve been given and you use them to trick the ones smaller than you. You could have had a willing human woman on her knees in front of you playing whatever games you like, but you get off on torturing the sweet ones.” 
Elijah’s eyes were wide, full of terror. They flicked to you, begging for forgiveness. 
“I don’t want you to kill him,” you said, your voice thin. 
Roth looked up at you and tipped his head to the side. 
“Pity.” 
His eyes flicked down to his captive. 
“I suppose you have a new job, hm?” 
He narrowed his eyes again, head dipping down so he was close to Elijah’s snout. 
“(Y/N) is very kind. I am not. If you get into trouble, I’ll take what’s left of your teeth and dump the rest of you in a ditch. Understand?” 
Vince appeared from the shadows making you jump and dragged Elijah out. 
“Have fun with the girls!” he called after him. 
“Was that really necessary?” you asked, glaring at Roth. “Yes, he broke my heart, but his fangs? His claws? Threatening to kill him?” 
Roth slipped a knuckle under your chin, his eyes arcing in what must have been a smile. 
“My job is not easy and my world is not kind. Strength and cruelty are sometimes required to take care of the ones who can’t help themselves. That’s the way things are.” 
You huffed. 
“You’re horrible.” 
Fangs flashed in the dimming purple light streaming in through the window behind you. 
“I’ll happily be horrible so you can always stay sweet. My methods may be unappetizing, but it’s worth is to see the truth reflected in your eyes. You deserve to feel justice.” 
He leaned towards you, searching your gaze. 
“And even if you won’t admit it, I can see that you do.”
Your eyebrows jumped and your ears burned. 
“H-how did you even know about him?” 
“I went through your text messages.” 
“You have my phone? Give it to me!” 
He shook his head. 
“You haven’t properly settled in yet. I’ll give you a new one when you’ve come to accept your place here.” 
“What is that supposed to mean?” 
“You’ll soon get used to it. Come on.” 
He beckoned you to get up, leading you towards the elevator. 
“I have a use for you,” he said. 
You flinched, narrowing your eyes at him as your heart tightened in your chest. 
“What use?” 
“The girls always have things they need. Some new brand of makeup comes out or melting spray, whatever that means. I have no idea, but I’m sure you do. Can you handle a budget?” 
You nodded, more curious now that your “use” wasn’t anything alarming. 
“All you have to do is receive their requests and figure out what we can afford to buy every month, what’s most important and all that. Then hand over your report and I’ll have one of the guys deal with the order. Simple enough?” 
“Sure,” you agreed. 
He patted you on the head and you peered up at him, trying to read his expression as the two of you landed on the first floor. The club was empty this early in the evening, except you could hear the titter of women through one of the doors that led to the back. A cyclops was restocking the bar, slicing limes and he nodded to you politely when you met his gaze. 
Without writhing bodies, you could see that it was a very pretty place. Tufted benches in Navy blue velvet formed curved shapes housing glossy hardwood tables. The walls appeared to be some kind of fabric with an elaborate swag curtain arrangement softening the corners. The bar was a slick snake-like shape running along one wall, the liquor bottles lined up to the ceiling lit up by gold light. 
A woman with bright pink hair came rushing through a side hallway, looking in her purse for something, almost slamming right into you. 
“Oh sorry!” she squeaked, looking up. 
Her eyes widened at you, then looked to Roth. 
“New girlfriend, boss?” she asked, a sly smile growing on her face. 
Glancing up at him, you couldn’t tell behind his black fuzz, but you almost thought he might be blushing. 
“I’m Candy,” she beamed, shaking your hand. 
Roth waved at you. 
“(Y/N) will be taking your supply requests from now on,” he explained and she narrowed her eyes at him. 
“You’re putting your girlfriend to work?” she pouted, slipping an arm around yours and pulling you close. “Shame on you! You ought to spoil this rare blessing! You’ve been waiting long enough, haven’t you? You’re going to chase her away if you work her to the bone!” 
“Candy!” he growled, obviously a little annoyed, but she just waved him away. 
“Mr. Roth acts tough, but he’s got a gooey center,” she said, her bright eyes filled with mischief. “You’d better take him for all he’s worth! He’s been wanting a girlfriend for as long as anyone can remember, but never could find the right one.”
She winked at you. 
“The girls and I like variety but Mr. Roth is so sentimental he can’t stand the idea of sharing. He’s always wanted one little flower to spoil. It’s so cute. You’re his first girlfriend, you know. He’s never brought another woman here. We would know if he did.” 
“Oh!” you said, glancing back up to him. 
You were sure he was blushing now, though you couldn’t see it. 
“Jesus,” Roth grumbled, hiding his face with a clawed hand. “Aren’t you running late, Candy?” 
She grinned. 
“I can’t wait to tell the girls about this!” she chirped before she smooched you on the cheek and ran off. 
Roth sighed, looking at you for a moment, before a thumb rose to your cheek and he rubbed away Candy’s lipstick. 
“Don’t listen to her,” he grunted, turning quickly and leading you to his office. “The girls pretty much run this place and they get silly ideas in their heads. Meddlers, all of them.” 
“I am I really your first girlfriend?” you asked his back as he walked into his office. “I’m not really your girlfriend, though. You said I was your pet.” 
He plopped down at his desk, waving you over. 
“It doesn’t matter what I call you,” he griped, grabbing you by your hips and setting you on his desk. “You’re mine.” 
Your head tipped to the side. 
“Why haven’t you had a girlfriend before? You’re rich and powerful. Don’t women fall all over you?” 
He leaned back in his chair, letting out a tight breath. 
“My kind mate once, for life,” he explained. “It’s very…serious. Most women don’t like that sort of…intensity hanging over their heads from the start.” 
Your eyes widened, watching the stiff personality he’d been so carefully trying to cultivate melt in front of you. 
“So you haven’t had any other lovers?” you asked. 
He fiddled with the hem of your skirt, refusing to answer. 
“Is that why you’re so hard on sleazy monsters?” 
At that his eyes lifted to meet yours, and his thumb absently slipped over your thigh.
“Being so crass and careless is a sacrilege among my people. Breaking a soul who might be someone’s sacred mate is considered a crime punishable by death.” 
You looked down at your fingers, suddenly feeling an ache in your chest. It should have been a relief, not a pain. He would get bored and let you go someday. Now you knew that for certain. 
“Am I just a placeholder until your real mate comes along?” you whispered, the words slipping past your lips, though you tried so hard to keep them in.  
He chuckled, lowering his head to fill your vision with his bright eyes. 
“I just told you. We mate to one person only. I wouldn’t have brought you to my bedroom if I intended to have someone else.” 
“Why didn’t you just say that? Why be so distant? You scared me. If you’d wanted to mate me, holding me against my will is not exactly how to start a relationship.” 
At that his eyes avoided yours. 
“Like I said…women tend to run when they find out we mate for life. Humans aren’t like us. Your kind have lots of different partners and you break partnerships when they no longer suit you. If I don't force you to stay with me, you might leave."  
You had no idea what possessed you, but you placed a hand on his cheek and pulled his face towards you, forcing him to meet your gaze. Your fingertips sank into the soft fuzz and you liked the way it tickled your skin. 
“Not all of us,” you whispered. “Some of us just want one person we can be with forever.” 
“Is that what you want?” he asked. 
The words left your lips on a silvery note. 
“That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” 
He pulled you into his lap, curling his wings around the two of you. 
“I can give you that, if you let me.” 
A light giggle filled the little space for just the two of you. 
“I suppose I don’t have much of a choice,” you tittered. “You don’t plan on letting me leave.”
“No,” he murmured. “But if you stayed because you wanted to it would mean a lot to me. It’s okay if you don’t feel it now. I’ll spend our lifetimes trying to convince you.” 
Your head tipped against his soft chest, feeling a strange giddiness a lady shouldn’t feel towards her kidnapper, especially one who had a large collection of the teeth of the people he’d murdered in his closet. 
You were fairly certain monsters had driven you to madness. None of your dramatically swaying feelings made any sense… but your “enemies” had been defeated, you’d had the best sleep you’d had in a long time in a big comfy bed, and you were wearing half a million dollars in diamonds. Objectively, your quality of life had wildly improved from the day before when you were sitting on a dirty curb clutching fifteen dollars. 
For the first time, you felt his soft lips against your forehead and your head tipped up, following them. When you pressed yours against his, you felt a shudder roll through his chest, making your skin tingle. His clawed hands slipped into your hair, holding your head in place while he explored. 
You felt his breath fanning your face, panting into your kiss and underneath your fingertips his heart raced, causing yours to skip as well. An arm reached behind you and you heard sundry items clatter on the floor as he laid you out on his desk. 
His tongue explored your mouth, tasting like cinnamon, as his fingers clutched your cheek. Fear and anticipation muddled your thoughts. Part of you was still unsure, but the other part knew it was too late for doubts. Your body was ready to surrender, panties damp and thighs sticky. 
You gasped underneath him, his wings forming a silvery cave tinted with the glow from his red eyes. You ran your fingers through the soft feathers and felt him shudder with appreciation. Notching his body between your legs, he pulled only an inch away, looking at you. 
“I will keep you no matter what, but this I will not take without permission,” he murmured. “Just know, if you accept me. I won’t tolerate competition. I’ll murder anyone who dares to touch you and take their teeth.” 
Your cheeks burned, blinking at him through a heady veil of pleasure, his scent carrying notes of the moonflowers decorating his home. This was the key moment. You could refuse him and go back to being his reluctant captive…or you could become his. 
“Okay,” you whispered, your heart answering the question before your still unsure mind. “I…ah…I accept you.” 
His lips covered yours again as he let out a needy grunt, this kiss more desperate and claiming. You felt the prick of his sharp teeth as yours slid against his, the thrill of danger sending lightening bolts up your spine. You could feel the strength in his fingers as they moved over you and the weight of his body as he pressed you into the desk. 
His claws curled around the neck of your blouse and he jerked ito down, exposing the tender breasts perched in your bra. You dragged in a heavy breath tasting oddly like cinnamon, the small space under his wings suddenly feeling thick with the scent. 
Your body grew hot and sensitive, each brush off his soft fuzz making your skin tingle wildly. You suddenly felt light headed and needy, your mouth watering at the taste of his tongue. 
“W-what’s happening?” you gasped when he pulled back to press kisses into your neck. “I feel hot…” 
His hands cupped your breast as you felt his lips agonizingly brush your sensitive skin as he spoke. 
“My pheromones are binding you to me,” he hummed and your heart skipped a beat. 
“What?” you hummed, pushing your breasts into his big hands for more pressure. 
“My pheromones are designed to make mating more pleasurable…to make me irresistible to you.” 
You gasped, but your mind was getting ever hazier as the scent wound around you. Your hips bucked into his stomach, begging for what you wanted. 
“Not yet,” he purred, pulling a tender nipple into his mouth. Colors exploded behind your eyelids, feeling more pleasure flood your system than you’d ever experienced before. 
You’d had enough lovers and a few good orgasms, but this blew that all out of the water like a nuclear bomb and you hadn’t even cum yet. Your back arched and you screamed as his long, agile tongue curled around your nipple. 
The slight prick of his claws bit your skin as his fingers played with the other one, alternating between teasing plucks and firm rolls. The small panties you wore were soaked through and your thighs ground against his hips for more friction. Every inch of skin felt as sensitive as your clit, the fuzz all over his body feeling maddeningly good against it. Your fingertips dug into the thick collar of fur around his neck, wanting to just rub him all over you. 
He let our pleased hums as grunts as your fingers couldn’t decide where they wanted to be, one moment clutching his neck, then his head, then scratching at this chest. The room filled with your desperate mewls, begging him in slurred words for his cock. 
“That’s right,” he murmured on a smug chuckle. “You’re all mine, little flame. Only I can give you what you need.” 
His kisses trailed down your stomach, his soft, delicate antennae caressing your skin as he moved lower. Claws shoved your skirt off your hips, exposing your panties to him and his long tongue slid up and down your slit. You heard the sound of tearing fabric and then his breath on your sensitive lips. His tongue dipped inside of you and you suddenly understood the actual length of it, easily filling your weeping pussy.  
“Roth!” you gasped, fingers looking for something to clutch and finding a few odd feathers to wrap in your grip. 
You heard him hum as he licked you up, making your eyes cross as the vibration drew a blooming orgasm from your core. Whimpering, with tears streaming down your cheeks you felt the agile appendage lapping up your juices, while his thumb found your clit. 
He circled it slowly, making your thighs tense so tightly you thought you might pop. Pleasure zapped you like a lightening bolt, the electricity lighting up every nerve until your whole body felt like it was cumming all at once. Your head dropped to the side, drool leaking over your cheek as your eyes rolled back in your head. 
You weren’t sure you could take much more. Making love had never been like this. Your mind couldn’t process what his pheromones were doing to you. 
Finally, Roth couldn’t hold back anymore, standing so he loomed over you, only his red eyes visible in the darkness. His fingers slipped past your open lips, holding you you in place as you felt his thick shaft investigate your pussy. It felt a little strange, your skin so sensitive it could make out every detail. Though velvety skin still covered it’s girth, the head was more elongated than a humans, ending at a slightly sharper angle with a pronounced ridge bisecting it. Smooth bumps formed a line running vertically along the shaft and something…or some things grasped your thighs like little fingers, holding them open. Your confusion as what was holding your legs apart melted away when he snapped his hips and his cock entered you.
A ragged roar filled your ears as he bottomed out inside of your channel. You could tell by the way the fingers in your mouth flexed, he was doing his best to hold back, not to hurt you. He was still for a moment, as he gathered his resolve, but you had other ideas, sucking on his fingers lewdly, your wet tongue tracing his claws. 
He bent down on top of you, fingers fleeing your hot mouth and wrapping around your neck. 
“Naughty girl,” he gasped as you bucked your hips, the little nubs lining his shaft making you whimper. 
You could hardly see him, but you knew he could see you and you were getting annoyed with him trying to be gentle. Pulling your tits out of your bra, you kneaded them shamelessly, pressing the flesh against the arm holding your throat and arching your back so he couldn’t avoid the dirty show. 
You couldn’t hold back your victorious smirk as he let out a hungry growl and his hips started to batter your soft flesh. His eyes disappeared into the darkness as instinct overtook him, rutting you wildly. Strong fingers tightened on your throat, only ratcheting up the spice swirling through every limb like a savage tornado. 
Drowning in pure bliss, hot tears poured down your cheeks, your body jerking underneath his as he pounded into you. Nonsense poured from your lips, rational thought swept away in the storm. When the sensation reached it’s peak you felt like your body might shatter into a million pieces and you welcomed the oblivion that overtook you. Body shuddering violently as you fell over the edge. 
Your wet, needy cunt, clamping down on Roth’s cock so suddenly made his body respond in the way it was designed. His shaft suddenly inflated to twice it’s original girth, stretching you decadently before he cursed and you felt ropes of searing cum splash against your sucking walls. 
You could hear heavy panting and it took you a moment to realize it was your own breath. Roth let out a long, groaning sigh, his body slumping on top of yours, only stopped by a strong arm bracing the desk. 
His bright red eyes returned, looking somehow more entrancing than before. Everything about him seemed…more. His cinnamon, flower laced scent stuck to you and his soft fur felt luxurious. Even the sound of his ragged breaths tickled your ears in a sumptuous way. 
“You’re…different,” you muttered, brain having trouble putting words together. 
He let go of your throat, a thumb brushing your bottom lip as his hand clutched your cheek. 
“My pheramones have soaked into your body,” he purred. “You’re mine now. I’ve marked you.” 
“Oh,” you hummed, eyes slipping shut, as you felt the aftershocks of your love making roll over you. 
Whatever little claspers were holding your legs retreated and as his cock slipped out of you, cum and slick splashed on the wood floor. 
He scooped you into his arms, pulling you into his lap as he peppered soft kisses on your forehead. 
“Are you okay?” he asked, fingers, absently stroking your hair. 
“Mhmm,” you hummed. “Will it always be like that…now that you’ve marked me?” 
“Yes,” he said, twirling a bit of hair around his finger. “Now that we’re bonded…I can’t control my pheremones. They…have a bit of a mind of their own and their purpose now is to reinforce the bond.” 
A knock at the door sobered you a bit as you tugged your shirt back up to cover your boobs. 
“Who is it?” he called, still so quiet you weren’t sure how anyone heard him. 
“Vince,” said the vampire on the other side of the door.
“Is it an emergency?” 
“No.” 
“Go away.” 
“Got it, boss.” 
He tucked the bit of hair he was twirling behind your ear and smiled. 
“Do you want a snack?” 
Your eyes met his with all of the earnestness in the world. 
“Yes. I would love that!” 
He pulled out his phone and texted someone before setting you back on his desk and leaning back in his chair, looking deeply satisfied and proud of himself. You flopped over on your stomach, kicking your heels in the air and resting your chin on your arm. 
“Do we have to work now?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him. 
He looked at you for a moment before answering. 
“No…What do you want to do?” 
“I kind of want to get to know you a little better…Since I’m bonded to you or whatever.” 
“Okay,” he said, stretching his arms behind his head. “What do you want to know first?” 
You blinked at him. 
“Why do you have hundreds of teeth in your closet?” 
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Text
Second Choices
Pairing: Cassian x Reader
Masterlist
A/N: I hope this makes sense lol. I opened my planning doc for the next part of Triad, read the three sentences I had written there, and then closed it and went back to a random drabble in my notes app that exploded into this. So… enjoy, I guess? There will be three parts of this total, so click here to be added to the taglist to be notified when those go live!
Warnings: Angst, drinking, drug use (slightly forced, if you squint?), a little hint of smut at the end but it doesn't progress very far
“Y/N is a bitch,” Braelie whined, voice echoing out from the restroom’s open door. Mor sighed, snapped the cap back onto her signature red lip gloss, then turned towards Cassian’s female-du-jour. She was pretty, in an artificial sort of way. Her foundation, a shade too light, was caked on with a thick layer of matte powder that swallowed the light when it hit her face, leaving her skin dull and sullen. The dark eye makeup and too-bright lipstick made her look like a doll, and not the kind for children.
“Listen, Brae,” Mor hoped that using a nickname would soften the major blow she was about to land. She reached out and laid a light, comforting hand onto one bony shoulder. “Y/N and Cassian have been friends for a long time. I won’t lie to you, sometimes the lines get blurred when they’re both single. She’s probably having some complicated feelings, since you’re so pretty,” Mor rushed to add that last part when Braelin’s lower lip wobbled. Then she prayed to the Mother for your forgiveness and said, lowering her voice to a whisper, “she’s probably just jealous.”
That put a spark back into Braelie’s eyes, and Mor cringed. She added Cassian to her list of prayers as Braelie flounced away in search of him.
Cassian hovered with his hand on the doorknob, ready to duck out the side door to sneak in a quick smoke break while Braelie freshened up with Mor. 
Braelie was hot, sure, but Cauldron she was dumb. If Cassian had to hear the words, “wait, really?” one more time, he might not make it long enough to get her into his bed tonight. Just a few puffs of mirthroot would dull the edges of his brain enough to find her cluelessness endearing. 
She wasn’t the most exciting company, but she was reliable, and he needed that. He’d broken things off with Skyla three weeks earlier and knew that he was dangerously close to doing the one thing he wore he’d stop doing, so he went out one night, alone, and found Braelie. 
After overhearing Mor’s words, he felt guilt roiling deep in his gut. So he smoked half a joint and headed back inside. He danced with her and thought of you. Walked her home and thought of you. She invited him in for a drink and pressed her too-pink lips against his. 
He thought of you. 
Afterward, he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and waited until her breathing slowed before sneaking out through the window. He shoved off of the sill and let his wings fully expand, catching the wind and sending him soaring into the early morning sky. 
You hadn’t meant for Cassian’s latest fling to overhear you calling her a “Cauldron-damned floozy,” but it had happened anyway. 
“She’s soooooo annoyingggg,” you slurred, taking another swig from the wine glass in your hand. You let your head fall back until it landed on Azriel’s shoulder. He chuckled and you felt his shadows nipping at your cheeks, lightly scolding you for being bitchy. They tickled like tiny, ice-cold kisses, but that wasn’t enough to stop you. “Seriously, Az. I dunno what Cas sees in her. She’s just another Cauldron-damned floozy, good for keeping his bed warm and not much else.” 
Mor had managed to redirect Braelie towards the restrooms after that, leaving you alone in the booth with Az, completely oblivious. 
Azriel’s shadows had alerted him to her presence, and a smirk graced his lips. He sensed some major drama brewing and relished in his position at the sidelines. 
“Why, Y/N, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you sound jealous,” he drawled. You let your head loll to the side so you could glare at him, which coaxed a bark of laughter from his lips. 
The first coherent thought you had the next morning was water. I need water. You dragged yourself out of bed and trudged into the bathroom, gulping mouthful after mouthful straight from the faucet. 
But water could only do so much for a hangover, so you threw a robe over your pajamas and tiptoed down the Townhouse stairs. It was nearing noon but, based on the disheveled state everyone had returned in last night, you didn’t want to risk waking anyone and incurring their hungover wrath. 
Outside the kitchen, you heard low, muffled voices and paused to listen before entering. Mother forbid you end up interrupting Cassian and Braelie’s post-coital feast. Cauldron, even her name was annoying. 
“I just don’t understand why Y/N would say something like that,” you heard Cassian say, wincing as memories from last night flooded your brain. 
“Look, Y/N’s your best friend, I’m sure she’s just feeling put out now that you’re spending so much time with Braelie,” Az said, careful to keep his tone neutral. 
“Well she doesn’t have to be such a bitch about it.” 
You turned away and snuck back up the stairs to change into real clothes, deciding that breakfast at your favorite cafe was in order. Preferably paired with a mimosa or five. 
— 
Az sighed and took a sip of tea to buy himself some time to think. He’d stayed up with Mor until sunrise, talking about their clueless friends. 
While your comments about Cassian’s love life had been funny the first few times, after more than three decades, it was getting old. They recognized a pattern repeating itself ad nauseam; Cassian gets a new girlfriend, you distance yourself from him and start grumbling about the girls’ flaws, then when Cas eventually dumped her you’d be back to being best friends like no time had passed at all. And if you both happen to be single, well, sometimes after smoking too much mirthroot you’d end up all over each other. In a friendly way, of course. 
This time, though, you’d been much more open about your hatred for Braelie despite the fact that she was one of the more tolerable ‘floozies’  they’d had to deal with over the years. She was dumb but harmless, and soon enough Cassian would tire of her, resetting the cycle once again. 
So they’d decided to divide and conquer; Mor was going to try and get it through your thick skull that you’re in love with Cas, while Az was tasked with showing the General what was right in front of him. 
Easier said than done. So he decided to go for the jugular. 
“Well, it’s not like you have the best track record with females. Maybe Y/N’s gotten tired of playing nice when you’ve got someone new on your arm every other week.”
“Last I checked that wasn’t a crime.” 
Az held his hands up, raising one eyebrow at Cas. 
“Don’t shoot the messenger. If it’s really bothering you, why don’t you talk to her? I’m sure if you asked her to lay off Braelie she would.”
Cas ducked his head to hide the heat rushing to his face and mumbled something incoherent into his chest. 
“Sorry, brother, what was that? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of my shadows laughing at your blush.”
“I broke up with her this morning,” Cas growled, tightening his grip on the mug in his fist. 
Azriel cackled, laughter only growing louder when Cas glared at him. 
“It’s not funny,” Cas insisted, launching his teaspoon over the table. Az’s shadows caught it before it could make contact, turning Cas’s glare into a downright glower.  
“Alright, alright, it’s not funny. You’re just predictable, that’s all.” 
After stewing in silence for a few minutes, Cas felt his self control crumbling. Words bubbled up from his chest, through his throat, and then he was rambling. 
“I overheard Mor telling Braelie that Y/N was jealous of her,” he pushed his chair back and started pacing back and forth across the kitchen. “And at first I thought, no way, that’s crazy, if Y/N was jealous I would know. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. She always gets weird whenever I’m dating someone, right?”
“Maybe you should talk to her about it,” Az suggested, leaning back in his seat. Just a friend offering a casual, off-the-cuff solution to a problem he knows nothing about. 
“Yeah, maybe…”
Mor tracked you down later that afternoon, sprawled out on a blanket next to the Sidra and halfway through a bottle of vintage red imported from the Summer Court. 
“Heyyy,” you greeted her, pushing yourself up into a sitting position and holding the bottle out towards your friend. “Come to join the pity party?” 
Mor eyed you, curiosity and amusement sparking behind her honey brown eyes, and she accepted your offering. 
“And why are we having a pity party?” she asked, plopping down next to you and taking a long pull from the bottle. 
“Cause I fuck everything up, duh.” You flopped back down, this time onto your stomach. “Cassian hates me, but whatever. I’m sure he and Braelie are going to be very happy together.”
Mor had to force her eyes not to roll at your drunken dramatics. 
“I’m gonna find a boyfriend, that way when they break up Cas can’t come crawling back to me with his dick in his hand. See how he likes it.” You made grabby hands for the bottle but Mor shook her head, keeping it held just out of your reach. 
“Or you could try telling him how you feel?” She suggested, casually, as she took another sip. 
You scoffed, hiccuping giggles following as you struggled to keep your composure as mixed emotions ebbed and flowed through your body. 
“Tell him how I feel? Should I tell him it makes my skin itch whenever he dances with another girl? Tell him that I haven’t been able to finish with anyone else since the first time he fucked me? Or maybe I should tell him that he’s my mate, good idea, Mor. Maybe that will make him fall in love with me!” 
Mor let her eyes roll this time, patting you on the back. But when you flipped onto your back, she saw the pain and longing etched into the lines on your face and stared deep into your eyes, waiting for you to laugh and say it was just a joke. 
Unease settled in her stomach. 
“Wait, you’re serious, aren’t you?” she asked. 
“He’s my Cauldron-damned mate, and he doesn’t even know it. He’s too busy burying himself in the hordes of females fawning all over him to notice how much it hurts.” 
“Y/N…how long have you known?” 
“Four years,” you whispered, throwing an arm over your eyes to hide your tears from your oldest friend.
“Oh, babe,” she sighed, tugging you up into her arms. The dam behind your eyes broke and sobs wracked your body while the gears in Mor’s brain started turning. 
When you finally settled in her lap, tears dried up, she hauled you to your feet. “C’mon, let’s get you home.” 
All you managed to mutter was, “Not the Townhouse,” before she winnowed you away.  
Cassian dodged Azriel’s attempts at cheering him up in favor of sulking at the kitchen table all day, waiting for you to wake up. 
When it was nearing dinner time, he sighed and put together a tray of tea and pastries to bring up to you as a peace offering. But after knocking politely on your door for five minutes straight, worry started worming its way into his stomach and he threw open the door to reveal your bed, perfectly made and empty. 
“Fuck,” he growled, throwing the tray down the hallway where it crashed against the wall, broken bits of pottery clattering to the ground. He’d wasted all day waiting for you when you were out doing Mother knows what with Mother knows who. 
Screw apologies, he was on a warpath now.  
He trekked through the busy streets of Velaris looking for any sign of you, starting at Amren’s apartment and making his way through your favorite shops and restaurants with no success. Just when he was about to give up, assuming you were holed up with a male somewhere, he saw Mor ducking into one of the small cafes near the Sidra. 
“Mor!” he shouted, jogging to catch the door before it closed behind her. She turned around, and a look of shock flashed across her face before it smoothed into cool indifference. 
“Cassian,” she said, nodding at him before turning to the hostess stand. “I’m here to pick up a takeout order for Morrigan.” 
The hostess nodded and disappeared into the kitchen to grab the food. Cas reached out and grabbed Mor’s wrist, tugging her around to face him.  
“Where is she?” he asked, barely able to contain the rage flowing through his veins. 
“Not now, Cas,” Mor sighed, wrenching her arm from his grasp. “Trust me. Just give her some space.” 
“I can’t,” he growled, siphons glowing as if they were attempting to warn her that his magic was sizzling just beneath the surface. It felt like something was pulling him along, the desire to find you growing stronger the longer he looked. “I need to find her. Please, Mor.”
The hostess came back and handed a bag to Mor, who promptly turned around and dumped it into Cas’s arms. 
“Fine, then you can take this up to the House of Wind for me. I have some errands to run, you have an hour.” Cas’s face relaxed and he nodded, about to open his mouth to thank her when she waved a hand at him to dismiss him. 
But when they were back outside, she turned around to flash a sickly sweet smile at him. 
“Oh, and Cassian?” His eyes widened as he froze in place, wings spread and ready to take off. “If you hurt her, I will feed you to Bryaxis.” 
With that, she disappeared and Cassian took to the skies wondering what would be waiting for him when he arrived. 
— 
On the back deck of the House of Wind, you stood leaning against the railing, music swirling around you as you watched the sun sink behind the buildings of Velaris below. Lights blinked on one by one until the whole city was filled with twinkling stars.
With a joint in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, your mind was finally, blissfully, numb. Only the subtle ache deep in your core served as a reminder of your unfortunate situation, but even that was starting to dull. 
Of course, your peaceful night had to be ruined by the one male you had no desire to see. The sound of flapping wings and rushing of air past your face gave you a split-second warning, and then Cassian dropped to the ground behind you. 
You turned around and held the hand with the joint lazily balanced between two fingers at your forehead. 
“General Bloodshed, or whatever the fuck,” you said, wobbling on unsteady feet as you saluted him. Then you lowered your hand and took a long drag, holding the smoke in your lungs for as long as physically possible before letting it out in a steady stream pointed in his direction. “Come to fight for your fair maiden’s honor, or just to rub it in my face that you’re getting laid and you don’t need me anymore?”
“Y/N,” he said, all the anger draining from his body as he took in the bags under your eyes and the heavy winter clothes hanging off your frame even though Summer was right around the corner. It was like he was seeing you for the first time after a long mission away, noticing how much weight you’d lost, how tired your body looked. 
He set the food down on one of the lounge chairs and took slow, careful steps towards you. 
“Y/N,��� he repeated, “What’s going on?”
“Nothin’, Cassie, nothin’ at all,” you said, pausing to hiccup before continuing. “I don’t care about Braelie, I don’t care about you, I don’t care about anything.” You thrust your arms out wide and turned to face the sunset, which was now casting a golden glow onto Velaris. “I’ve got a hot date with my fingers later, and I probably won’t even think about you.”
Cas ignored the heat flaring up low in his belly at the mental image that flashed behind his eyes. 
“Hey,” he whispered, coming up next to you and prying the joint from your hand. “Gimme that.” 
You turned to face him, lower lip stuck out in a pout. 
“Why? So you can leave me here and go get high with Braelie? I bet she’s real mouthy. You like em loud, don’t you? Like when females beg for that big Illyrian cock?”
Your voice got higher and higher, becoming breathless as you rambled on, letting all of your deepest, darkest, pent-up thoughts and feelings fall from your lips. Even though you knew you’d regret it in the morning, in the moment it felt so good to let them go. 
“Y/N, stop, just take a breath. I’m not going to leave you, okay!” Cassian stubbed out the joint and tossed it aside, putting his hands on your shoulders to force you to look at him. “I’m not going to see Braelie, I broke up with her this morning.” 
Your eyes glazed over as you looked him up and down, a lazy smirk blooming on your lips. 
“Ohhhh, I see how it is,” you drawled, waving a hand to summon the joint to you. Snapping your fingers to spark it back to life, you took another deep hit and then stuffed the unlit end into Cas’s mouth. He tried to protest but you held firm until he finally inhaled. Its effects hit immediately, and you watched as his shoulders drooped, muscles relaxing. With a wicked grin, you dropped from his loosened grip to your knees, palming his dick through his leathers. “Want me to kiss it better, put your broken heart back together?” 
A war waged behind Cas’s eyes; on the one hand, the mirthroot was clouding his judgment and lust threatened to take over at the sight of you looking up at him with wide eyes.  
On the other hand, he had set out to make things right, to talk to you and figure out the true nature of your feelings for him. Sleeping with you would send the wrong message. 
“Y/N, stop,” he grunted, pulling his hips back and shoving your hand away. 
“What?” you asked, your pout back in full force. “Want me to beg for it first, cause you know I will? Know I’ll give you anything you want?” You shoved yourself up to your feet, pushing onto your tiptoes so your narrowed eyes bore right into Cassian’s. 
He felt the tension that had been building all day melt away—the anger, the frustration, the confusion—all of it was gone with a snap of golden magic that flooded his body. 
You felt it, too, from your side of the bond, could see the moment it registered behind those hazel eyes. It felt like the bond was on your side, snapping just in time to help you prove a point.
“I’m done being your second choice, mate,” you snarled, plucking the joint from his hand before turning around and stalking into the house, leaving him stranded alone in the darkness. 
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stararch4ngelqueen · 7 months
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omg is there any way you could do a continuation of the “pulling your clothes off smut” like he ripped her shirt and he’s happy to home but what next ??? it’s soooooo good
You didn’t get an ounce of a break when Jason’s thick cock broke through your walls with limited prep, too desperate to have your aching cunt cry on his cock as quickly as possible.
His tac pants were soaked, his balls coating with your juices the harder they slap against your reddened pussy.
Gloved hands pull you up back against his chest, tightly squeezing hold of your breasts to fuck you harder back onto his dick. 
“You missed me huh? Talk to me, tell me you missed this dick. Ohh, you greedy little bitch, just can’t get enough of me can’t ya?”
If you could speak properly, you’d let him have it. He ruined your clothes, bullied his fat cock perfectly against your spongy little sweet spot.
Instead, all you could emit were various, broken little euphoric cries.
Maybe your bored mind pictured Jason coming home and fucking you whilst in his suit. The perfect picturesque of rugged vigilante coming home and breeding you whenever he so damn pleased.
“Tell me,” he eagerly rasps in your ear. “Tell me, baby. Tell me you wanna be full of me, beg for me to fuck you full. Oh Shit- stretched around me, so fuckin’ pretty—“
The bastard might’ve been oblivious about your fantasies, seeming to only care of his own. To fuck you whenever he wanted after a failed or successful patrol.
“Oh shit, shit- don’t do that—“ His brash slams against your cunt began to falter, his grip traveling towards your hips in attempt to steady himself from your tightly squeezing walls.
You clenched harder, per Jason’s absolute delight. His chest rumbled with his lustful, desperate grunts perfectly exhaled along your neck.
“Ohhh my god, babe. Baby, you’re gonna fuckin’ drain me dry.”
In the only retaliation he knew, he garnered the decency to rip off his dirty glove with his teeth before assaulting your clit, feeling your body tense as your cries got just a little louder.
“That’s it, that’s it. Be good for me, fuckin’ come on this cock. All around my cock, that’s it.”
You had to finish first. Cardinal rule; Jason loved nothing more than a quivering, soaked and satisfied pussy to fuck his seed into.
“Be a good girl, gimme what I want. That’s right, gimme what I fucking want.”
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ohbo-ohno · 8 months
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Consider: Conqueror!Ghost fucking Princess Reader in her room, Soap chained up in a corner of the room, unable to help as his princess’ virginity is fucked away by this massive man who isn’t being at all gentle. Not even bothering to undress her or stretch her, just yanking her skirt up enough to have access and going right for it.
if i was ever gonna do something with this it would probably be like the first ghoap idea i posted but oh my god. this ask. like im fanning mysef babe
this would hurt guard!johnny soooooo bad :( he's literally dedicated his entire life to protecting the princess, has sworn to never marry, never have any kids, so he can be ready to die protecting her if it ever comes to that
and here comes conqueror!ghost, who slaughters the king and queen and takes the princess for himself. doesn't kill johnny for some reason, but lets him fight for a while :( johnny's bloody and nearly broken trying to protect the princess, and he just keeps getting up and charging at ghost, trying desperately to save you. ghost is literally playing with him, just knocks him to the side with a single blow
johnny waking up chained to the wall with a collar he knows they used for the king's hounds, stuck on his knees staring wide-eyed at the bed, where ghost is splitting his princess open on his cock where she's on her back with her knees pushed up to her ears. and at first ghost is looking down at her, but when johnny jerks forward and the chains rattle ghost's face turns to his, and he just smiles fucking viciously, every tooth showing, as he fucks her harder, hold her jaw wide open so johnny can hear her screams
and for ghost... having this pretty virginal little princess being split in half on his cock is heaven, but turning and looking at the big bloody guard getting his heart broken, knowing everything he's sacrificed is for nothing, that he's not strong enough to have protected his princess from ghost's brutality... it's that devastation that gets him coming inside the princess. pulls her off his cock and forces her to sit up, spreads her legs wide and fucks his come in and out of her with his fingers right in front of johnny's face. grabs her by the jaw and forces her to look, to see the way her guard watches her
johnny snarling and jerking at the chain, nearly choking himself, screaming and shouting every violent threat he can think of and swearing he'll tear ghost apart with his bare hands. and ghost just laughs, slips his cock back into the pretty princess and makes him watch her ride her conqueror's cock
side bar - i love ghost taking the princess' virginity in front of soap, but i also kinda love him forcing johnny to take her virginity. mutual noncon & johnny having to brutalize the one person he swore to protect? maybe ghost fucks johnny at the same time, shows him how to properly fuck since he's never done it before :(
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babyjakes · 6 months
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lock them out and throw a feast.
〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉
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event | kinkmas 2023
prompt | food play
pairing | soft!dark!curtis everett x front-ender!reader
warnings | soft!dark!curtis. non-con. crying. restraints. use of gag. fingering. minimal dialogue (curtis is a quiet guy.) oral (f receiving) with plenty of clit focus. messy food play (a whole bakery's worth of sweets.) forced orgasm. squirting. implied multiple (forced) orgasms. written in 3rd person for some reason. showered!curtis :D
word count | 1,698
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an | my snowpiercer knowledge is soooooo rusty i haven't watched the movie in years. this is kind of written in a universe where curtis and his rebellion were able to take over the engine. he picks out a pretty little front-ender as his reward and throws himself a feast... anyway, please ignore any details that might not align with the movie plot. this fic is dedicated to my sweet precious wonderful somny @onsunnyside, she isn't active much these days but of course i wanted to write her a kinkmas piece still, she is so special to me. and i know she loves curtis, so this felt like the perfect opportunity. love you, sonson<33 hope you're well and having happy holidays!
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Everything was just the way he ordered it. An empty car all to himself, with both exits locked, dark curtains drawn. Lights dimmed, just bright enough to see through the stilled air. One shining down stronger than the rest in the center of the room, illuminating his long-awaited bounty. His final reward. His feast, fit for a king.
The moment he had laid eyes on her, cowering and weeping as her family's luxury quarters were broken into, he knew she was his endgame. He promised himself he'd have his way with her once he made it to the engine and overthrew the elite. Now that the hard work was done, it was time for him to revel in his victories. And there was no better way to do that, he had decided, than to feed the hunger that had been eating away at him for as long as he could remember.
He stood back in the shadows for the longest time, just taking in the glorious scene before him. Sucking in a strained breath, he pressed a tentative hand over the bulge in his pants. They were new; everything on him was. As his trusted second-in-commands were preparing his private car, Curtis had disappeared to care for himself and his body for the first time in seventeen years. He had a long, tedious shower, taking his time to remove nearly two decades of filth from his tattered body. Once he was clean, he had first choice from an entire car full of clothing- everything brand new. He remained modest with his choices. All the glitz and glam of the elite had no appeal to him.
Taking a step forward, he let his dark brown overcoat fall to the floor, leaving him in the simple gray t-shirt and utility trousers he had claimed earlier. Biting his lip, he pried his hand from his raging hard-on. He would relieve himself, in time. For now, he wanted to savor every moment he spent building up to that release.
Her quiet whimpers were the loudest thing in the room, accompanied by the low rumbling of the train's machinery in the background. Her crystalline tears only made her more beautiful, Curtis thought to himself. There was something so exquisite about her agonized expression; it didn't matter how wrong or cruel this was. He had given it all, risked his life for that damn train. This was his; he had earned it. He would allow himself that.
His men had done a fine job with the setup. She was as captivating as he had dreamt for all those years- no, she was better. Her body sprawled out elegantly over the smooth oak finish of the table below her, tied to the corners by her wrists and ankles, she was nothing more than a piece of meat to be feasted on, a meal to be devoured. And Curtis hadn't had a proper meal in years. The rest of the table's surface was covered in all the sweets and confectionaries his subordinates could find. Ripe fruits, delicate cakes and pastries, bowls of thick chocolates and creams- and to top it all off, his main course had been decorated lavishly to the likings of the delicacies surrounding her. Her most sensitive places had been drizzled and dipped, sprinkled and powdered, making her the most divine-looking creature the man had ever seen.
He took another step forward, surveying her as a vulture would its prey. Her dewy eyes peered up fearfully at him as he slowly approached the side of the table. Voice slightly hoarse from all her crying and struggling, she whined weakly through the thick cloth gag secured snugly between her chocolate-smeared lips.
"Shhhh," Curtis breathed out, the steadiness of his voice and posture such a stark contrast to the girl who lay weeping and bound before him. As he turned to make his way to the end of the table, her bare feet thrashed and kicked uselessly in protest. He simply shook his head at her pitiful displays of defiance. "No use fighting it, sweetheart," he hummed, his voice almost consoling in tone. "You're not going anywhere. Not until I get a good taste of what's mine."
With heedless, eager motions, the man cleared the portion of the table that sat between the girl's trembling legs. As mouth-watering as everything he was pushing aside appeared, his only focus was closing the space between him and the one thing he was truly starving for. Lowering his front down onto the now empty surface, Curtis' greedy eyes trailed up his victim's messy legs, finding the sacred point at which they joined. He drooled at the sight of her perfect cunt as it sat before him on display, dribbles of cream and what appeared to be nervous arousal collecting beneath her rounded ass.
"Mine," he repeated, this time nearing a growl. His rugged hands came up to squeeze at her soft, heavenly thighs, earning tiny squeaks of fear from the poor girl as she shook her head pleadingly- but it was no use. He had her before him now; nothing would come between him and his feast. "This body belongs to me now, angel. Do you understand?" He brought a hand up to push back her mound, exposing her swollen clit and leaky hole to his prying eyes. The confidence he was speaking with was impressive, given the fact that he'd never spoken to a woman like this in his life. But after all he'd lived through, he felt entitled to that sense of authority. He held her life in his hands, quite literally. And he sure as hell was ready to make the most of it.
"This pretty cunt-" he dared to take his words further, his other hand dragging a finger up through the streams of sugary icing coating her thighs to begin prodding at her tiny hole. "-is mine. All mine," he hummed, perfectly happy to be stating these truths to only himself, if his new possession was so insistent on denying them with her angry sobs and harsh glares. She would come around in time; he knew she would. She wouldn't have any choice in the matter.
His finger nudged and teased at the opening a bit more before gently dipping inside, the man's patience wearing thin. At the feeling of her tight, slippery walls doing everything in their power to fight off his intrusion, Curtis wasn't ashamed of the way his cock only grew harder from her unwillingness. He savored the distressed grunts and groans she let out as he forced his digit in up to a first knuckle, then a second. Turning his hand in a fluid motion, he began fucking his finger up into her, groaning lowly at the sight of her quickly growing increasingly responsive to his efforts.
Free-hand momentarily moving back to grab harshly at her hipbone, Curtis licked his lips as his gaze settled in on the tiny nub sitting at the top of the girl's messy slit. Bringing his thumb and pointer finger back down, he forcefully spread her upper lips apart, exposing her poor little button to the cool air of the room. Her legs kicked and struggled as he drew his face in closer, letting out a low groan as the bundle of nerves was finally taken between his parched lips.
The girl let out a howl through her gag, choking on her cries and spit as Curtis worked her aching clit. Closing his eyes, the man savored the feeling of the tiny bump twitching and trembling against his steady suckling. Letting go of any last hesitations, he submitted to eating her fresh cunt like a beast that'd been starved. He paid no mind to being gentle or polite as he latched onto her helpless core, delivering punishing waves of pain and pleasure well outside the realms of her wildest nightmares.
When his lips grew sore from sucking, he switched to dragging his tongue over the pulsating nub, starting with slow, teasing licks before switching to fast, merciless swipes in the blink of an eye. The alternating paces reduced his victim to softer sobs and hiccups, her hips bucking up wildly as her body struggled to tolerate the intense stimulation. And as soon as he'd had enough of the tongue work, he was back to nursing at the poor button, now so puffy and swollen from receiving his undivided attention.
As the girl's thighs shook, Curtis could see something shifting within her. The noises she let out were becoming more desperate, more panicked, with an expression of impending doom appearing on her tear-stained face. At the realization that she was being brought to orgasm against her will, the unrelenting hunger in Curtis' gut only rose. "That's it," he grumbled lowly, her sweet, sticky juices coating his reddened lips. "You're gonna come for me now, babydoll. Come on, give it to me," his face was hardening with determination, his finger thrusting more forcefully up into her fluttering walls as she hurled towards her climax at full speed.
The cry she let out as she finally came was the closest thing Curtis had ever heard to an angel on earth. As the incredible pressure in her tummy finally shattered, her poor clit spasmed helplessly in the man's awaiting mouth. A flood of sweetness sprayed against his scruffy facial hair as she squirted, the sight of her body coming helplessly against his efforts nearly too much for Curtis to bear. Groaning loudly, he coaxed her through the spectacular high. Only when her sobbing turned to weak sniffles did he finally pull away, his darkened eyes trailing up to find her tender face.
As he went to remove his digit from her soaking heat, he could've sworn she almost seemed to cling to him, in a way. He brought the creamy finger up to slip into his eager mouth, the sugary taste of her climax making his head pound with want.
His next words sent her into a fresh fit of tears. "One more," he decided, lowering his head back down to her sticky cunt. One more, he told himself, before he'd finally seek some relief of his own.
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277 notes · View notes
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hi!! how do you think each merc would react if they got stuck on an elevator? maybe reader could be there too and started panicking, how would they deal with it? ^^
ANON I LOVE THIS. this is such a fun prompt im obsessed. sorry this took literally months . college is hard
scout
- he's immediately mad. kicking the wall and repeatedly pushing buttons
- ends up pacing and freaking anyone else in the elevator out
- when he starts yelling for help it's over
- if you start panicking it'll just make him panic because he doesn't know what to do to help you, he just gets louder
soldier
- slamming on the doors with his entire body weight. does NOT realize the doors will open to an elevator shaft and not a safe floor
- SCREAMING for help. he's not panicked really just very impatient. it's very un-american to get trapped in an elevator.
- if he's in there too long he'll wear himself out and sit on the floor and pout for a while. sad sad puppy dog man
- if you're freaking out he'll just yell in your face which will not help but he is yelling reassuring things. he just has zero volume control.
pyro
- definitely just saying what the hell over and over again. not yelling just muttering to themself and being mostly unintelligible
- kicks the door a little bit but doesn't get overly violent
- mostly just dismayed at the situation. will sit down and fiddle with whatever they have on them, tinker with whatever weapons anyone has. patient
- will sit there in silence with you and help you breathe deep if you're panicking. mutters kind things which you can't understand but he's trying
engineer
- pops open the panel immediately and starts fiddling with wires and trying to fix it himself. not at all worried that he might break it worse
- throws stuff if he can't get it working again. very much with the dangits and dammits and dagnabbits
- starts yelling for help but gets bored of it pretty quick and just huffs and puffs
- if you're freaked out he'll calm himself down though. he'd hate to be part of the reason you're freaking out
demo
- he doesn't even notice at first. he's just drinking and smiling.
- once he realizes it's been a loooong time in the elevator. he'll sort of just poke at some buttons, kick at the door a little bit. surprisingly nonchalant about it
- if he's drunk enough he'll start to prepare to blow the door open you gotta make him not do that. because it would most certainly not help
- if you're freaking out he'll stare at you for a while before he even says anything because he doesn't know what would help. he isn't helpful at all
heavy
- so normal about. he is chilling. if someone else has an idea that requires brute force he will contribute but won't initiate it himself he's perfectly content to just wait it out
- i like to think he brings a little paperback with him all the time and he will just sit down and read
- might even fall asleep. his snoring would make anyone else in the elevator want to die though
- probably the best person to have with you if you're freaking out he can provide anything you need. need to be grounded? bone crushing hug. need reassuring words? might be a little broken in english but he's got em.
medic
- gone into hysterics i think. especially if there are more than three people in the elevator he needs out right now
- snaps at anyone that tries to get him to help with anything he's like. sitting in the corner rocking back and forth
- he's literally completely 100% normal the second you get out it's like nothing happened
- he's not helping you if you're freaking out unless staring at you menacingly is helping
sniper
- doesn't care literally whatsoever he's used to being in enclosed spaces for hours at a time
- you better believe he's pissing in jars if he has them.
- will help with the Escape Plan if he deems it smart enough
- if you're freaking out he'll just sit there but he thinks it's helping
spy
- soooooo frustrated there are much better things he'd rather be doing than being trapped with You People
- filling the elevator with cigarette smoke much to the chagrin of everyone in it. he does not care whatsoever
- gets bored quickly and will sit and flip his knife endlessly while still chainsmoking
- if you're freaking out he'll probably just say something he thinks is kind but just makes you feel worse
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sweetnsour1 · 2 months
Text
9:36:05
Fluff, Bakugou x fem reader
Part 5 of Broken Collection
Go to the beginning
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Chivalry Is Red: Soooooo…
Chivalry Is Red: ?
Chivalry is Red: ??
Murder Goddess: ???
Murder God: That idiot needs to stop messing with the usernames.
Chivalry Is Red: I’ll just ask IT to remove admin access from Kaminari’s account.
Chivalry Is Red: Sooooooo…
Chivalry Is Red: Sooooooooo…
Murder God: WHAT
Chivalry Is Red: Soooooooooooo…how’d it go?
Murder God: ?
Chivalry Is Red: Man, I didn’t smoooothly switch patrol time slots to get a whole bunch of nothing.
Murder God: …is your keyboard fucking broken?
Chivalry Is Red: No
Murder God: …
Chivalry Is Red: Soooooooo?
Murder God: shut the fuck up.
Murder God: it was good.
Murder God: …thanks
Chivalry Is Red: Soooooo…
Murder God: do that one more time
Chivalry Is Red: sorry sorry. Just wanted to say I hope it works out for you, man. It took a long time for you to get over her last time.
Murder God: Not forgiven. And I didn’t.
Chivalry is Red: :( but I said sorry
Chivalry is Red: Didn’t what?
Murder God: I didn’t get over her last time.
Chivalry Is Red: True. Neither of you have even been on a date since then.
Murder God: …what
Chivalry Is Red: shit
Chivalry Is Red: unsee that.
Chivalry Is Red: Mina is gonna’ kill me.
Chivalry Is Red: Shiiiiiit, I shouldn’t have said anything. You know we decided to not get involved between you two.
Chivalry Is Red: DO NOT TELL MINA
Chivalry Is Red: you there?
Kirishima jumped as his office slammed open “Shit, man. We can’t keep buying new doors.”
“Wasn’t she hanging out with Shinso a lot a few months ago?”
“Thought you didn’t read ‘tabloid trash’.” Kirishima groaned, realizing it was too late to backtrack. “They were both assisting with the provisional licensing exam.”
“And?”
“And nothing.”
“Oh.” Bakugou unclenched his hand from the doorframe.
“This definitely explains why you were such a dick to him at that fundraiser.”
“I’m always a dick.” He faltered under Kirishima’s stare. That definitely wasn’t his best night. “Yea, I was pretty pissed.”
“Does it matter if she dated anyone anyway?”
“Course not. But…it’s still-“
“What?”
“I dunno. It’s still nice that-“ Bakugou choked on his words when he looked up to see Kirishima smiling with way too many of his fucking teeth.
“You’ve got it bad.”
“Shut up.” He flicked him off as he headed back down the hall.
“You’re welcome!”
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A/N I really am just having so much fun writing again. So far each of the parts in this mini-series is written pretty differently. It feels really good to just play with the parts and characters. If you don’t like it, don’t tell me.
Masterlist
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pollenallergie · 4 months
Note
cassie my love, i need more of this in my life. getting high post-sex w older!tom just seems soooooo <3
So…. it took me an embarrassing amount of months to get back to you on this but um…. here you go… this took a turn??? and then a swift turn back in the other direction???? so um…. horny whiplash warning??? ig????
Tagging @ali-r3n bc she asked me to and also @ghosttownwherenoonegoes because Eri helped me out with a lot of the british specifics (the britifics??) so thank youuuu
Okay, okay, without further ado:
Your First Introduction to Older!Tom’s Post-Sex Ritual
(except I can’t stick to a prompt)
Word Count: 2.1 k
Warnings: Nudity, allusions to sex and also some *ehm* inappropriate touching, reader has boobies and a bajina.
18+ only!! MDNI!! Minors do not read this!!! This is not for you!!!! This is for adults only!!!
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“Fuuuuuck,” Tom exhales as he lays on his back, staring up at your bedroom ceiling.
“Fuck,” you agree weakly, still slowly drifting down from cloud nine. Tom chuckles at your response as he sits up and eases out of bed. You smile at the sweet sound of his laughter, though you don’t immediately register the movement; still just a bit too far gone.
When Tom struts past your line of sight, still naked as the day he was born, on his way out of the room, that movement manages to catch your attention finally. You frown, at first, because you were already missing him, and then because you were disappointed in yourself for already missing him. Casual, this is just casual, keep it casual, you remind yourself. Tom doesn’t do the whole dating thing, you know that, so keep things platonic and casual. Don’t scare him off.
Suddenly, you’re pulled out of your internal self-lecture by the sound of a distant, but not distant enough, crash and Tom exclaiming, “shit!”
You sit up as quickly as you’re able to, your whole body still feeling pretty limp and boneless after Tom spent the better half of the evening pulling as many orgasms from you as he could. Once you’re upright, you call out, “Tom? Are you alright?”
“Yeah! Yeah. Shit! Er, yeah, just, erm- hang on,” Tom calls back. You hear more shuffling and clattering from the other room, and then you hear the undeniable creak in the floorboards from Tom’s heavy-footed steps as he approaches the bedroom. Soon enough, he appears in the doorway, still shamelessly nude but now with a joint in hand and a sheepish expression on his face.
“Have you got a lighter or, er, matches or anything like that? I tried looking ‘round for either of ‘em, but erm… Yeah, I couldn’t find anything,” he asks, his cheeks blushing as he carries on.
“Is that what all that crashing was?” You ask amusedly, failing to stifle the grin that curls on your lips.
“Yeah… I erm, I might’ve knocked some of yer shit over,” Tom admits sheepishly.
“Tommy,” you say, your tone a perfect mix of amused, exasperated, disappointed, and scolding.
“But, but!! But I put it all back, and none of it’s broken. Swear on me granda’s grave,” he promises.
You can’t help but roll your eyes fondly at that before chastising him a bit, good-naturedly, of course, “Don’t swear on that poor man’s grave. Knowing you, you probably already put him through enough when he was alive.”
Tom chuckles, “Fair enough,” he concedes before raising up the joint to draw your attention back to it, and then simply asking, “Lighters? Matches?”
“Er, right. Lighters. Kitchen, the counter to the left of the fridge, top drawer, it’s my catch-all drawer, there should be a few lighters in there, take your pick,” you inform him.
Tom grins at your response as he makes his way over to the bed. His grin widens tenfold and becomes much more smug when he notices your gaze flit down toward his cock, which gracelessly flops around with his strides, still limp and spent from your previous activities. When he reaches your side of the bed, he places his hand down on the mattress near your thigh, using it to support his weight as he leans over and plants a kiss on the crown of your head. He holds his lips there for a few moments, softly inhaling the residual scent of your shampoo as he does so, deciding to allow you both to enjoy this moment of peace without even being truly aware that that’s what he’s doing.
When Tom finally breaks away, he leans down to whisper into your ear, “Don’t get any ideas, love,” he warns cheekily, “You and that heavenly little place between your thighs milked my cock dry; don’t think I’ll be able to get it up again anytime soon,” he finishes teasingly before kissing you again, this time pressing his lips against your cheek to punctuate his teasing.
You scoff and stifle a smile as you push him away. Cocky little bastard, you think.
Tom holds his hands up in surrender as he backs away from the bed, joint still clutched between his index and middle finger and a smug grin still on his face.
“Don’t shoot the messenger, baby. It’s yer fault for bein’ greedy,” he teases as he walks off into the other room, still refusing to put on clothes.
God, how are you supposed to keep your feelings in check when he treats you like that? He’s just one of your mates, and yet he treats you better than many of the dickheads you’ve dated in the past ever had, better than some of your mates’ current partners treat them, even.
As if he can sense that you’ve begun to spiral from the other room, Tom calls out to you, effectively pulling you out of your fretting, “Ay, me lover, think I’m gonna light up and make meesen a bacon butty. You want anything while I’m out ‘ere? Water? Bacon butty? Some wine? This Crunchie you’ve got hidden in your cupboard? Actually, wait, nevermind, I call dibs on the Crunchie.”
“Maybe some wa- Hey, wait, Tom, no! Leave that Crunchie alone! I’ve been saving that!”
Of course, you frantically try to get up to rescue your precious candy bar from Tom’s thieving grasp. However, your legs are still a little unsteady, which forces you to walk to the kitchen looking like a newborn giraffe, all while Tom’s grating (read: annoyingly sexy) chuckle fills the space of your flat.
You find him cock out, lit joint pursed between his lips, standing in front of your stove, hands on his hips, heating up a frying pan for his bacon, and, annoyingly, nowhere near your candy stash.
“I haven’t got any bacon, so, it’ll just be a butty, I’m afraid. No use heating up a pan for that,” you grumble as you walk over to the cupboard where you stash your candy. Might as well snag that Crunchie before he can.
At the sound of your voice, Tom turns around and looks at you, bemused, albeit amused as well, and says, “the fuck are you doing out ‘ere on those wobbly li’l legs, Bambi?”
His words come out a bit muffled, thanks to the joint perched between his lips.
“Thought you were gonna steal my Crunchie,” you shrug and admit sheepishly through a mouthful of chocolate and honeycomb. At that, Tom barks out a laugh, which quickly morphs into a cough from accidentally inhaling during said laugh. He promptly removes the joint from between his lips, ashes it in the makeshift ashtray he’s made out of foil, clears his throat, and goes back to smoking.
“Jesus, you’re a strange one, aren’t you,” he remarks fondly, his voice slightly hoarse from coughing, as he begins to gather the ingredients for his sandwich.
“I’m very serious about my Crunchies,” you reply, half-jokingly.
Tom chuckles as he rifles through your fridge.
“Yeah, I’m well aware of that now,” he replies, pausing to inhale before continuing to speak on his exhale, “Sit down at the table then, yeah? I’ll get you some water and make us some toasties if that sounds alright?”
“Y-yeah, yeah, okay,” you agree awkwardly as you sit down nearby at your kitchen table, watching him as he works on preparing the food.
Soon enough, he comes over to you with a glass of water and that same cheeky smile.
God, that smile will get you in so much trouble someday, won’t it?
“What’s that grin for?” You ask as he sets down the water, though you can’t help but reciprocate it with a smile of your own.
He shrugs before leaning over to press his lips against yours, moaning into the kiss when you needily take the initiative to deepen it, parting your lips eagerly for him. Far too soon for your liking, though, he’s breaking the kiss, pulling away just slightly to look into your eyes with his lovely brown ones.
“Has anyone ever told you that you have really, really great tits?” Tom asks, his voice low, sultry, and serious, but you can see the mischief swimming in his gaze.
You roll your eyes and scoff at his question, leaning back in your seat, though anyone could see the amused smile you fail to keep from tugging at the corners of your mouth.
“Yeah, you have like a million times since we started hooking up,” you reply with a chuckle.
“What can I say? I’m a man of honesty,” Tom teases, making you huff out a laugh; he smiles at the sound of it before holding up the joint in your line of sight and asking, “Do you want to take a few tokes ‘a this while I finish up our sandwiches?”
You nod and purse your lips, and, as if it were already second nature to him, Tom slots the joint between your lips.
Instead of immediately going off to work on the food, he sticks around to watch you take your first few puffs, still leaning down so he’s just about at eye level with you, his hands boxing you in on either side, one palm pressed onto the tabletop and the other holding onto the back of your chair. Meanwhile, you sit diagonally in your seat, facing him and maintaining eye contact as you smoke. The haze of your high slowly but surely begins to set in, lowering your eyelids to a relaxed level and easing your posture. Between your new relaxed state, the sex hair you’re sporting, the fact that you smell like you’ve just got done having sex, the fact that you’re completely naked right now, and the fact that you’re, well, you, Tom thinks you might be one of the prettiest things he’s ever fucking seen in his whole life.
But he mustn’t forget about the toasties!
So, he plants one last kiss on your cheek because, hey, he fucking feels like it. Then, he surprises you by kneeling in front of you to say goodbye to ‘his girls’ (your tits).
“I’ll see you ladies in a minute, yeah? Be good while I’m gone, try not to miss me too much,” he whispers to them, making you giggle.
“Tom, you’re so fucking wei-” That (affectionate) jab immediately dies on your tongue the moment he leans forward and wraps his lips around one of your nipples, engulfing it in the warm, wet heat of his mouth and applying just enough pressure to make a heated, buzzing sensation spread beneath your skin as he sucks on it. Then, just as you feel that pleasant sensation spread down through your core, Tom’s pulling away, but only so he can give your other, neglected nipple the same attention.
Small mewls and moans spill out from between your parted lips as the long forgotten joint, still clutched between your fingers, hovers over your table, where the ashes fall from it carelessly, sure to leave a mark. Once Tom’s had his fill, he places a final kiss to the center of your chest before pulling away completely and leaving to go finish preparing your sandwiches, waltzing back over to the stove as if he hadn’t just done, well, that.
“Tom… what the fuck was that?” You ask breathlessly. Still too bewildered to notice the damage the neglected joint is doing to the surface of your table.
Tom has to stifle a cheeky, mischievous grin as he feigns nonchalance, shrugs, and simply replies, “Just giving the ladies a proper goodbye, love. They get nervy when I leave ‘em just out of the blue. You know, separation anxiety, and all that?” Tom tuts, “Poor girls. Think maybe you should start keeping a couple pictures of me in your bra, one in each cup, so they can still see me when I’m not around.”
“Tommy, you’re ridiculous,” you laugh as he dishes up the toasties onto plates and turns off the stovetop.
“Ridiculous…ly fit? I know, baby, but why don’t you finish that glass of water and eat some of that sandwich before you go jumpin’ me bones again, yeah? Gotta stay fed and hydrated,” He teases you as he brings the plates over to the table.
“Oh, and, you’re ashing on yer table, love,” Tom informs you with a kiss on the head as he sets the plates down and goes to grab a wet rag to wipe the table off with, along with the makeshift ashtray.
“Shit!” you exclaim as you lift the joint away from the table. You hand it to him when he gets back, trading it off for the rag so you can wipe up the mess you’ve made whilst he gets everything else sorted.
Tom tuts and shakes his head, feigning disapproval, “that’s the devil’s lettuce, it’ll do that to you.”
“Shut up, Tommifer,” you reply, feigning annoyance all while sporting an amused smile. He chuckles at that, though he also appreciates the fact that you neglected to call him ‘Thomas,’ his full first name, when you very easily could’ve.
“Eat yer toastie, me birdie,” He says as he nudges you teasingly, “sooner you finish it, sooner I can get back between those thighs, yeah?”
115 notes · View notes
archangeldyke-all · 4 months
Note
Hello Angel!!!
Perhaps Cowboy Sev breaking older Vi and Jinx out of jail. After so many years Sev would be so rusty that she needs reader to help too. Go wild with the shenanigans they get up too. Could bring back Silco and the boys to help legally maybe. Hilarious if somehow Vi got in trouble trying to impress Caitlyn and somehow managed to get Jinx involved. Also funny if Sev and reader meet Caitlyn as Vi’a girlfriend during this break out HAHHAHA
Pls I’m obsessed with cowboy Sevika HELP ME
Thank youuuuu
this is SOOOOOO cute such a good idea i'm crying.
men and minors dni
ten years into marriage, fifteen years into your relationship, eight years with the girls, five with them legally yours, and sevika finally retires.
there was no need for her to work at the ranch in the first place. the amount of loot she'd stolen and stored in your inn (both in your room hidden beneath the floorboards and in the rafters, and buried beneath your side garden) was enough to take care of you for ten lifetimes to come. but, sevika was used to spending her day on shimmer's back, and she needed something to do with her free time once she gave up her life of crime.
but now, things have changed. sevika's ready to settle down and spend her days in the inn with you. the girls are growing up, vi being sixteen and powder being twelve-- they'll be living their own lives soon, and sevika wants to be around to keep you company as you transition into empty nesters.
shimmer died last winter. the four of you spent her last days cuddled up beside her in the stable, feeding her sugar cubes by the handful, saying your final goodbyes to sev's trusty mare. she rests behind the side garden now, marked by a big stone vi and jinx engraved.
old man ernie died too, leaving his ranch to his son. when he took over, he offered to let sev keep her job, but she declined. she was ready to retire.
she's been adjusting to retired life really well.
she loves working behind the bar in the evening, chatting with locals who stop in for a drink and swapping stories with some of your shadier guests in the in.
she's gotten really into reading-- especially smutty paperback romances.
when she gets restless cooped up in the inn, you send her out to ride the new foal-- a sweet young horse the girls decided to name teddybear.
it's been great having sev around all the time. especially for your sex lives.
speaking of your sex lives, you and sevika have been having a particularly fun week. the girls took teddybear out on a trip to a town two days ride south. they're meeting up with mylo and claggor there to catch the traveling circus. and it's summer time, which is always your slow season, and as of two days ago-- you've got no guests. you and sevika have been having a fucking blast, fucking on any and every flat surface you can find. your legs have been like jelly all week long.
it's been paradise.
"what're you smilin' at?" sevika mumbles from her side of the bed. you grin, turning on your side to stare at your sleepy wife. it's the crack of dawn, not even the rooster is awake yet. just you and the crickets, singing through the open windows.
"you're awake." you say. sevika smiles.
"i am indeed. c'mon, what's got you smilin' all pretty, darlin'?" she asks again, yawning to punctuate her question.
you scooch forward to kiss her nose, and sevika grins, her eyes scrunching closed.
"what i've been smilin' at for the past fifteen years, baby." you say. sevika chuckles.
"havin' sweet dreams about me?"
"more like flashbacks to last night." you say, waggling youreyebrows salaciously. sevika laughs.
"mmm, knew we'd break the bedframe one'a these days." sevika says with a proud little smile. you giggle and sit up on your elbows to look over at the broken bedframe stacked against the wall beside where the two of you sleep-- on the mattress on the floor.
"shit, sev that was oak, can't believe you fucked me through oak." you laugh. sevika nods cockily.
"damn right i did." she says. you giggle and fall back down to bed, snuggling against her chest. "how're you feeling?" she asks.
you snort. "well, i don't think i'm gonna be able to walk straight for a few days, and i woke up giggling, so... i'm better than i've been since our honeymoon." you say.
sevika grins, her sweet little gap makes your heart melt, and she smacks your ass.
"fuck, i love you." she sighs. you giggle and kiss her neck.
"love you too."
you guys drift off to sleep in each other's arms.
an hour later, the rooster crows, and you both wake up smiling again.
"morning." sevika mumbles. you kiss her lips.
"morning."
"i'll fetch some fresh water if you start breakfast?" sevika offers.
"will you let the chickens out?" you ask. sevika nods.
"duh." she says. you grin.
"deal."
you guys move slowly, lazily rubbing your eyes and yawning as you wash your faces and brush your teeth, stretching and kissing between each article of clothing you pull over your naked bodies, luxuriating in the slow morning all to yourselves.
sevika laughs at the limp in your step, and you pinch the bruises you left on her shoulders in revenge.
you fry up some eggs and hashbowns, watching through the window over the stove as sevika pumps fresh water from the well, watering your garden, the chickens, and finally lugging two buckets inside for the two of you to share.
you guys eat breakfast on the front porch, cuddled together on the porch swing violet 'found' for the two of you a few years ago. (you're pretty sure she stole it off sheriff marcus' front porch, but violet hasn't admitted it yet, and the sheriff's still too scared of you and sev to say anything.)
"how do you think the girls're doin'?" you ask as you sip your coffee. sevika snorts.
"i knew you were gonna ask that." she teases. you roll you eyes and sevika leans over to press a kiss to your temple. "they're fine. you know they're fine." she says. you huff.
"i know, i just miss 'em." you say. sevika laughs.
"i do, too, darlin'." she says.
sevika leans in to kiss you, and you sigh against her, quickly melting against her lips. she licks against your lips and you hum, opening your mouth for her to slide her tongue into your mouth--
"ahem!" a voice calls.
you and sevika pull apart, necks snapping to the stairs in front of you where a teenage girl stands, blushing and rubbing the back of her neck.
sevika clears her throat in embarrassment. you giggle.
"how can we help you, honey?" you ask the girl. her eyes dart up to you, quickly shooting between you and sevika, back to you, and then sevika again.
"uh..." she chokes out. she squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head, before taking a deep breath. "s-sorry to inturrupt ma'am, i just-- d-do you happen to know a mylo and claggor? or violet and jinx, percha-"
"oh fuck." sevika groans. the girl squeaks at the curse, and you chuckle. "what did those shits get themselves into now?" she asks.
she blinks. "uhm. jail, miss." she says.
you blink.
sevika's jaw drops.
the girl clears her throat. "a-about thirty miles south of here in a small town call--"
"what did they do?" sevika groans. "i trained them for every scenario, how the fuck did they get caught?!" she whines.
you blink again, spots in your vision popping up.
"uh... they shot the sheriff?" she says.
you gasp.
sevika laughs.
"shit." she says, somewhat impressed. "on purpose?" she asks, her eyebrow raising.
you feel lightheaded.
"n-no ma'am. accident. he's still alive-- but he's sentenced them to hang at the end of the week..."
that's the last thing you hear before you black out.
you wake up in bed, sevika nervously hovering over you, pressing a wet cloth to your forehead.
"wha--"
"you passed out."
"jinx and vi--" you snap up in bed, scrambling to your feet. sevika's beside you in an instant, steadying you as you're knees threaten to give out beneath you.
"it's oka--"
"sevika don't you dare say 'it's okay' to me right now!" you snap. she shuts her mouth.
footsteps start up the steps, and you look over your shoulder, where the teenager from before appears, a fresh bucket of water in her hands.
she freezes at the top of the steps, taking in the tense environment she walked in, then turning red as a tomato when she tries to avert her eyes from you and sevika, and makes direct eyecontact with the broken bedframe behind the two of you.
you would laugh at the poor, flustered girl. now though, she just reminds you a bit of the first time violet saw you and sev kiss, and that just makes you want to vomit.
"caitlyn, here," sevika starts in an irritatingly annoying voice, "was hanging out with the kids at the circus, right cait?" sevika asks. caitlyn nods.
"i live in town." she explains.
"and when they got arrested, cait was the only one who got away. violet told her to come get us, right cait?" sevika asks again. caitlyn clears her throat.
"i rode through the night. i also sent a telegraph to a mr. silco?" she says. you blink.
"right. and we're all gonna meet in town, and we're gonna figure something out, okay baby?" she asks. you gulp.
"sevika--"
"honey, i'm not gonna let anyone put a damn finger on our kids." she says firmly. you look away from the teenager to take in the steely sincerity of your wife's eyes, and you gulp. she gently reaches up to cup your face. "c'mon, have a little faith in me, darlin'" she coos, melting into a soft smile. you sigh shakily. "i'm the fuckin' weary woman of the west-- what's a little jailbreak, huh?"
you take a deep breath and lean forward to press your forehead against hers.
"we're gonna need a few horses." you say. sevika grins.
"i'm way ahead of you." she says.
grayson was happy to lend you two horses and buggies, almost crying at the thought of the girls in trouble. she promised to come over every day to care for your chickens and garden while you were away, and you thanked her profusely before riding the animals home faster than you've ever ridden-- anxious to get back.
when you arrive, it's to caitlyn and sevika waist deep in the dirt behind your garden, a few yards away from where shimmer lays. for the first time since caitlyn's arrived, you laugh.
sevika's pulls a crate out of the ground prying it open with a crowbar. as she opens the crate, she reveals dozens of sticks of dynamite, and she grins up at you with a proud smile. you giggle, and roll your eyes. caitlyn shoots out of the hole, terrified by the explosives.
"i'm gonna pack up some food for the trip." you nod to your house. "come help me kid." you say. the girl nods eagerly, sprinting away from the dynamite. sevika laughs.
you guys pack quickly, visiting the cellar for cans of food, gathering the essentials for travel, a couple blankets and quilts, a pack of matches, canteens and jugs of water. while you're folding some clothes, both for you and sevika as well as jinx and powder, you break down into tears.
caitlyn flounders around you for a few seconds, and you try desperately to collect yourself, but you can't quite manage.
the girl gently, awkwardly pats your shoulder.
you turn around and hug her impossibly close to your chest. she squeaks.
"fuck. shit." you cry. you take a few deep breaths, squeezing the girl in your arms, before letting her go. "sorry." you say, dropping your hands at your sides. "thank you." you sob. "for coming to get us."
caitlyn blinks, then wraps her arms around you, pulling you toward her this time. you giggle through your laughs against her shoulder and she gently rubs your back.
"violet told me you'd freak out." she says... "you remind me of my mom."
"oh, fuck, do your parents know where you are?" you gasp, pulling away. caitlyn laughs.
"yes." she says. you raise an eyebrow at her and she sighs. "okay, no. but they think i'm safe, at the circus, they won't be looking for me for a while." she swears.
"you stupid fucking kids." you groan.
you leave town at noon, and ride until midnight. the trip is solemn, nobody tries to talk much.
sevika's got this look in her eye, something you haven't seen in a long time. she's up to something-- something more than her usual mischievous pranks and jokes. the gears in her head are grinding, you can practically see her run scenarios and outcomes back and forth through her mind's eye.
it's a little scary-- you forgot how focused and intense she gets when she's plotting something. it's mostly hot though.
but you can't really say that-- not with caitlyn lurking. still, sevika catches your eye a couple of times and smirks, like she knows just how hot she looks as she rides beside you.
caitlyn's a good navigator-- apparently she's a junior guide up and down the river, so she knows the route to town like the back of her hand. she gets you around mountains, avoids most hills, and knows the best spots to stop for when the horses need to rest. sevika's impressed. the two of them chat over the campfire about the surrounding areas, comparing notes and shortcuts they've learned over in their travels. it's so cute it breaks your heart.
it's a dry, warm night, so you sleep beneath the stars.
you don't sleep.
sevika doesn't sleep.
you just stare at the sky while caitlyn and the horses rest.
at one point, sevika reaches over and grabs your hand. "it's gonna be fine." she says. tears well up in your eyes.
"i love you so much." you say. sevika squeezes your hand so hard it's painful, and she replies shakily.
"i love you too darlin'."
it's silent long enough for you to think sevika's fallen asleep, but then she speaks again. "betcha five bucks caitlyn's vi's girlfriend."
you burst into laughter, smacking your hand over your mouth as you laugh. caitlyn stirs beside you, and you can feel sevika's silent, mischievous laughter beside you. you nudge her with your elbow.
when you catch your breath, and caitlyn's snoring returns, you whisper to your wife. "you have way too much faith in your daughter."
she snorts.
you get to town by noon, and sevika sets you and caitlyn up in a the saloon that was the address caitlyn had telegraphed to vander and silco. she takes off to scope out the police station.
it's a pretty gritty place, and you look around it with a raised eyebrow, then look down at caitlyn. she's sitting with perfect posture, dusting off her tailored riding coat.
"you hang out in this saloon?" you ask. she blinks up at you and then sighs.
"well, no... but it's where all the shootouts in town happen!" she says. "it felt... good for planning a crime?" she tries. you laugh.
"sevika's gonna love this." you say. she grins. "what do your parents do?" you ask. caitlyn gulps.
"uh... oil?" she says.
you burst out into laughter.
"shit you're an heiress?" you ask. she nods. you shake your head. "no way vi's bagged you yet." you mumble. caitlyn blushes bright red and clears her throat.
sevika comes back before sunset, sitting beside you at the table and scrawling away in her notebook little sketches of the prison, mumbling to herself, occasionally looking up to ask caitlyn questions.
surprisingly, cait seemed to know a lot.
"do you know which cell they're in?"
"the one on the far end here." caitlyn says, circling a part of sevika's diagram.
"and who else is being held right now?"
"nobody. the sheriff's been itching for some action."
"how do you know all of this?" you ask. caitlyn blushes.
"it's good to stay up to date on local going ons." she says. you chuckle.
she's a dork, you think fondly. she's perfect for violet.
sevika returns to her drawings and you decide it's time to interrogate your daughter's possible future girlfriend.
"how exactly did the kids shoot the sheriff?" you ask. caitlyn blushes bright red, and you raise your eyebrow.
"uh. well..."
sevika looks up from her notebook, intrigued.
caitlyn gulps, then looks away. "it might've been me." she whispers.
your eyes widen.
"what?" sevika asks.
caitlyn blinks, then speaks so fast it's almost impossible to make out. "violet was showing off all the cool things she could do, and i had packed my gun to bring to the circus because they've got contests for clay duck shooting and you can win twenty bucks if you make it to the tournement and i'm a really good shot--" she sucks in a breath, tears bubbling up in her eyes "so i wanted to show off my shooting skills and vi told me to shoot the big roasted hog in the food tent and i did right through the eyes! but i didn't see the sheriff on the other side of the pig getting himself a serving, so the bullet went straight through his shoulder." she finishes, gasping for another breath.
"how did--"
"and before i could even do anything violet was already taking the gun from my hands and telling me to run and i'm so sorry--" she starts to sob.
"shit, relax, kid, it's okay." sevika says, reaching out to pat caitlyn's back. you smile. "it's fine, we're not mad." sevika says. caitlyn gasps, her eyes shooting up between you and sevika.
"you're not?" she asks. you shake your head no. "o-oh." she whispers, wiping her eyes. you ruffle her hair.
silco and vander arrive quickly after. they took the train, and they clearly left the moment they got the message-- wearing day old wrinkled clothes, no luggage, just pistols tucked in every pocket on their bodies.
silco's greeting is a gaurentee that he's going to kill the kids before the sheriff can, and vander's apologetic assurances that his husband is only joking. silco's appearance seems to ease something in sevika, and the two of them quickly fall into a hushed conversation as sevika discusses her plan with silco. caitlyn's right beside them, a little furrow in her brow as she absorbs their hushed discussions.
vander, cordial as ever, gives you a hug and presses a solid kiss to your scalp.
"how're you holding up?" he asks.
"better now that you're here." you respond. he laughs.
"can i be honest?" he mumbles. you nod. "silco's not gonna get the chance to kill the kids, i'll have already fucking done it." he whispers. you laugh. "we're not young and spry like you and sev-- we both nearly had heart attacks when we got your message." he groans. you rub his shoulder as you laugh.
"you wanna hear somethin' that'll make you laugh?" you ask. he nods.
"violet's got a crush on the girl here." you say. vander raises his eyebrow, looking over at caitlyn, who's absorbed by the diagram of the prison, pointing and mumbling to an interested and engaged silco and sevika. "an oil heiress." you say. vander chuckles.
"huh. well are the feelings mutual?" he asks. you laugh.
"they better be. violet got all our fuckin' kids arrested for her ass." you whisper. vander groans and rolls his eyes, grabbing his chest.
"oh, don't tell me these things." he begs. you laugh.
"you're lucky you don't have girls." you say.
you wait until midnight to start your plan.
you split up into three groups.
silco and vander are the horsemen, both of grayson's and cait's, plus teddybear, who they found outside the jail, wrangled up and tied to the two carts-- ready to get out of town fast once you break the kids out.
sevika's on explosives, obviously.
you and caitlyn have to find a way to communicate with the kids.
you're helping wrap a bandanna around the lower half of caitlyn's face, tugging an old hat low on her face to disguise her as best as possible. she grunts and squirms.
"quit movin'. you're a fuckin heiress, everyone knows your face. you can't be seen breakin' kids outta prison." you say. she sighs.
"fine." she grunts as you wrap a scarf over her neck.
"okay." you whisper, satisfied now that she's bundled enough to be indistinguishable. "show me this window."
caitlyn guides you around the back of the jail building, and quietly points up to a cell window about fifteen feet off the ground, iron barred.
"take the beef jerkey." you say, shoving the paper package in her hand. she pockets it, and then you crouch. "stand on my shoulders." you say. she nods, clambering on top of you.
once she's steady, you groan as you stand to your full height. with caitlyn on your shoulders, she can peek through the window.
the window, apparently, sits above the sheriff's desk-- likely where he's in a whiskey induced coma now-- sleeping away the pain of his shoulder. oppisite his desk, are the iron bars holding your children.
the sheriff's got a dog, hence the beef jerkey.
caitlyn whistles into the window. you cringe.
the sheriff snores, and the dog whines. you can make out the plop of a piece of jerkey, and then caitlyn's whispered, "hi doggie!"
you bite back your smile, and almost collapse when you hear jinx's voice.
"oh for fuck's sake-- violet!" she whispers."your stupid fucking girlfriend's here!"
you grin, tears welling in your eyes at the sound of your kid.
"caitlyn!" violet exclaims. you take a shaky breath.
"we're blowing the back wall down." caitlyn whispers. "you need to shelter on this end."
there's some shuffling as the kids wake up and run over to the oppisite wall, and you grin at the pitter patter.
the sheriff gasps, and you freeze. caitlyn bites squeaks.
and then he's back to snoring. you sigh shakily and squeeze caitlyn's ankles.
"stay there. we'll see you on the other side." she whispers, then she jumps down from your shoulders.
the two of you take off for the oppisite side of the building where sevika's waiting for the two of you.
she grabs your hand as she lights the line to the dynamite. you hold your breath. the line sizzles, sizzles, sizzles, quickly reaching the sticks at the base of the wall, until it... fizzles out.
sevika holds her breath. you hold your breath. caitlyn gasps, "oh fuck-- what do we do no--"
she's cut off by a BOOM!
the ground shakes, dust goes flying, and the wall comes tumbling down.
as the dust clears, a small fire illuminating the inside of the cell, you grin as the kids start hooting and hollaring in amazement.
"THAT WAS FUCKING AWESOME!" jinx and claggor shout at the same time as they all come sprinting out of the cell.
sevika snorts, then smacks them both upside the head.
"fuckin' stealth mission, assholes!" she whisper-scolds. mylo cackles.
"sorry sevika, but the stealth went out the window with that wall!" he laughs. sevika snorts and wraps all three of them up in her strong arms.
beside you, violet gasps, tears streaming down her eyes as she reaches up to pull caitlyn's bandana away.
"you came back." she whispers dramatically. you roll your eyes at the pure corniness, and then melt at the sweet sight of caitlyn darting forward and pressing her lips against your daughter's.
it's clumsy and quick, and they're both pull away bright red and gasping. you quickly look away when violet's eyes dart toward you, pretending like you weren't looking.
it doesn't seem to matter though, because next thing you know you have an armful of violet, sobbing into your shoulder. you squeeze her tight against your chest, and press a kiss against her head.
"you're in so much fucking trouble." you whisper against her hair. she giggles between her sobs.
"i knew you'd come." she whispers. you laugh.
"duh, dumbass. we need someone to take care of the chickens every day." you say. she cackles.
a gunshot rings out, and you all jump, turning around to face the now- open cell.
the sheriff stand sin the debris, a shard of wood speared through his unshot arm, his gun held weakly in his hand at his waist.
you push violet and caitlyn away to run grabbing their hands as you sprint down the street. beside you, sevika's got mylo under her arm, and calggor's got jinx on his back as they sprint, screaming and laughing down main street.
as the sheriff chases after you, unloading his gun at you, a bullet grazes violet's arm. she gasps in pain, and you gasp in horror, and before you know what's happening you're spinning on your heel and stopping dead in your tracks, reaching for the pistol you'd tucked into your waistband this morning.
you take a deep breath, and close one eye. lining your barrel up with the sheriff's bald, sweaty face.
he gets closer. he gets closer. sevika notices you're missing behind you, screaming your name, and the sheriff's right in front of you.
you shoot, and he crumbles to the ground.
it's quiet, and then your ears start ringing, and then, as the music fades, the sound of jinx's celebratory hoots fill your ears. you grin and turn back around, jogging to catch up to your family where everyone besides jinx (whose dancing in celebration at your shot) is frozen in place and gawking at you.
you smack sevika's ass as you pass her, grabbing jinx's wrist as you continue down main street, toward where silco and vander were waiting.
"c'mon y'all, someone's gonna check in on all this commotion soon!" you call over your shoulder.
shocked laughs fill the dusty main street as you and your family flee.
the ride back to your inn is mostly spent in long lectures, hilarious re-tellings of the kids' experience in jail, and tears and kisses being pressed to cringing children's heads.
but when you get back home to your inn, on your turf, all the anxiety and stress from the journey wear off, and you can finally relax.
you set up vander and silco and the boys in three rooms. violet eagerly volunteers to host caitlyn in her room, which makes you all laugh, (jinx groans in disgust) and you allow it.
and then, after scrubbing down with a washcloth, you fall crawl into the mattress on the floor beside sevika.
she's been snoring since you got back. she woke up for dinner, then fell back asleep after. but the second your weight hits the bed, she's blinking open, a smile on her face. you snort at her.
"what's that look for?" you ask.
"y'know that was the hottest thing i've ever fuckin' seen?" she whispers. you laugh.
"oh yeah?" you ask. she nods.
"didn't think you had it in you." she says, smirking. you just shrug and wink at her.
"you woulda done it anyways, i saw that look in your eye." you say. she grins and nods.
"yeah, but i didn't even have to try. my fuckin' outlaw wife killed the sheriff for me." she says, a blush working up her cheeks. you grin.
"now you know how it feels." you say. she laughs and you dart forward to kiss her forehead.
"i love you." she whispers. "i'm gonna fuck you through the floor tomorrow morning." she mumbles as she drifts off to sleep. you laugh.
"not happenin' babe." you say, kissing her forehead. "the kids are underneath us."
sevika groans. "those stupid fuckers."
you laugh and kiss her again. "i love you, sev."
"you owe me five bucks." she says.
taglist!
@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki
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Thoughts on The Outsiders Album
Okay, as I said yesterday, I have a LOT of thoughts on the album and I decided to revive this page so I stop bothering everyone IRL with my thoughts about it 😂 I figure there must be a good amount of people on tumblr who are down to listen to my rants about the album, so here goes.
I'll put it under a cut so there aren't any spoilers for anyone who hasn't listened yet, and I know there's one or two things which I've heard about the prouction via other posts and such. But I will stress that I haven't actually seen it, I've only listened to the album and obsessed over it 😂
It's also below the cut because it's fucking LOOOOONG
Please reply to this or send in your own thoughts - I have so much I want to talk about to do with this album and I'm like... shaking with the need to talk about it with people who actually want to listen 😂
(sad times living in the UK 🥲)
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I'm gonna go through the album sequentially, like track by track, because that feels like the thing to do, even though I will say right off that I definitely have more thoughts about some tracks than others. And I will also give my favourite line from each song. But for a just, like, general overview to begin with - I love the album so much?
I will fully admit that I was kinda preparing myself for it to be bad - it's a book that I love and I wasn't the biggest fan of the movie adaptation for a few key reasons, but I was so pleasantly surprised by the musical soundtrack.
I'm in love with the style of music, I love the entire cast (all of them have such different singing voices and styles and I think that they merge together so beautifully), and it has most of the things that I love in a musical - for me, it's got the right balance of the talking sections included with the singing, as well, which I know some people aren't huge fans of, but I might be biased because Soda is and always has been my favourite character and most of the talking is by him 😂 (I love Jason Schmidt, but we'll talk about that later), and as well as that the style of music and singing like gives me a good picture of what the actual choreography might look like, which I'm obsessed with, since I probably won't get to see it unless it somehow gets to the West End (🤞🏻)
Tulsa '67
Okay so this song is just like ✨exposition ✨ but it's done in a fun way, and I've decided it's worth it just for the finale reprise
I was also like stupidly emotional the first time I heard it and it opened with the opening line of the book
I was wary because of the immediate characterisation of Sodapop as being the brother "with a broken heart" (side note - does this mean Sandy broke his heart before the show rather than after it? I've goes QUESTIONS) - I'll go into it again when we get into Grease Got a Hold for obvious reasons, but I was worried that Soda was gonna be reduced into just being a womaniser again, which is something that bothered me about the movie adaptation
Favourite line: "all the girls are pretty there, and all the guys are mean"
Grease Got a Hold
right so it has no right to be as much of a bop as it is, it's been stuck in my head for the past week since it came out and I can't even be mad about it 😂
It's essentially just a typical "gang" song to introduce and characterise all the different members
Dally always saying "Little brother" got me so emotional like immediately
And I know I just said that I was upset with Soda's characterisation as a womaniser, but considering later songs, I will say I do find it really funny that he basically just goes "yeah I'm a greaser bc I love women 😊"
I LOVE TWO-BIT MATTHEWS - I would die for Daryl Tofa, just something soooooo good about the line he gives after Soda's verse
I have to admit, I was a little worried that they were gonna be pushing some anti-Darry propaganda, but I had no cause to worry, as he's an actual angel. Also it's so funny how fucking Done he is the moment he starts speaking
Something really funny about Steve not getting a verse, but something really sad about Johnny not getting one, but I don't have fully fleshed out thoughts yet so I'm gonna leave that there
But also there's just something about all of them trying to act tough, but all of them just have the voices of angels
Favourite line: "I'm a latch-key kid but they keep changing the locks" and also "you wanna be a fighter? then know just what you're fighting for"
Runs in the Family
I'm upset because this song has been such an ear-worm for me, but it's actually just so sad? There are a couple of these, but this is one of the main ones for me
It immediately makes Darry just such a sympathetic character - it's well documented that Ponyboy doesn't feel like he's enough of a greaser, but I don't think we talk enough about Darry is a reluctant greaser
Side note: but I'm really glad that they included Darry having dropped out of school to look after Soda and Pony, because that was kinda glossed over in the movie, which I felt did Darry a disservice
I just want to hug Brent Comer and tell Darry that he's doing a good job and everything will be okay 🥲
Favourite line: "I don't know what them boys would ever do without me - and what would I do on my own?"
Great Expectations
honestly this song deserves a post all of it's own, and maybe one day I'll do a full analysis of it
but in the meantime, it's fucking GORGEOUS, like Brody Grant has NO RIGHT to sound like this I'm so mad
THE FUCKING HARMONIES I WANNA SCREAM THEY'RE SO GOOD
One of the things I've loved about the soundtrack in general is how Pony in particular draws parallels and comparrisons between Johnny and the other greasers - here it's between Darry and Johnny, and I love it because Pony references in the book that he feels like he and Johnny are the outsiders in the greasers, he feels like neither of them really belong there, and they convey that so well in the musical with these constant comparisons in the songs and music
The continual return back to this idea of a self-fulfilling prophechy - trying to prove that they're not all the same just because they're greasers (like with the different verses in Grease Got a Hold), and this striving for individuality despite the overarching label they've been given
Favourite line: "It's hard to write this story, when this story's writing me"
Friday at the Drive-in
they all just sound so young - that's my main take-away from this song
I love songs in musicals like this where you're forced to be reminded how young the characters are and you have to humanise them a bit more - a bit like with "Drink with Me" in Les Mis
Also anytime that a soundtrack includes the dance-break it makes me so happy 🥲
Favourite Line: "Got no more stress, nothing to worry me - no more teacher's pet or trigonometry"
I Could Talk to You All Night
I need to say that I love this song, but the opening from Cherry is so fucking savage - like fucking hell there's no need to do that to Pony 😂
Again obsessed with Pony not feeling like enough of a Greaser
I'm a sucker for two people who feel lost in their own worlds finding each other and bonding because they can be themselves in a way that they can never be around their other friends
It's just such a pretty duet, and I want more of Brody Grant and Emma Pittman singing - we could have a million songs of the two of them and it wouldn't be enough
Favourite line: "I'd rather read then fight a rumble, but Greasers have to go along"
Runs in the Family (Reprise)
Dude it's such a serious song, and I'm obsessed that despite that there's just Soda being a little shit in the background
"I'll fold your laundry - I'LL FOLD ALL OF IT"
I love that even in this song it's like you can tell he's just so worried about Pony but it's coming out so angry and frustrated
So full of grief for the life he almost had
He's just so angry at Pony for still being able to dream, and it's like he feels like he needs to prepare Pony for real life, because he feels like he can't dream or wish for things anymore
And then just the screeching violin at the end of the song followed by DEAD FUCKING SILENCE, and then it switches to the next song where Pony starts singing acapella it's just herugighadlsiughukdhjsak, y'know?
Favourite line: "Whats the use in dreaming, about a life I'll never know? That ship sailed long ago"
Far Away from Tulsa
okay so I've already said that I'm obsessed with it beginning with Brody Grant acapella, and I know that the songs probably don't flow straight from one to the other in the actual production, but for the sake of the cast recording the effect is incredible
But also, there was absolutely no need to make this song so gay 😂 - Ponyboy, the bisexual icon we all need
It's very reminiscent of Santa Fe, with just kids dreaming for a life that they could have outside of their big city. Especially with the line "this place is real, it's not just in my head", which is VERY similar to "just be real is all I'm asking, not some painting in my head", but I'm okay with it because Brody Grant is incredible
But that line, as well as the one "'Ponyboy you're just a dreamer', that's what both my brothers say" are also really great links back to the previous song with the references of him being a dreamer, and that being what sets him apart from the other Greasers
I also just wanna say that I think it's criminal that there weren't more Pony/Johnny duets. Sky Lakota-Lynch and Brody Grant own my soul
Also catch me being emotional over Johnny's dream being wanting a family - he doesn't realise that he's already got one in the gang 🥺 (I could write an essay about this and Dally's continued use of 'little brother')
OKAY ALSO OBSESSED WITH THE CIRCLE BACK TO GREAT EXPECTATIONS, AND WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT HOW THE LYRICS CHANGE FROM
"Torn between what is and what could be. It's hard to write this story when this story's writing me"
TO
"It's all becoming clear, there's no way we're gonna find that here"
GOTTA ESCAPE TULSA TO ESCAPE THEIR FATE, SOMETHING AGAIN ABOUT SELF-FULFILLING PROPHECIES, I JUST CAN'T
Favourite line: "I'm tired of blindly watching as we're inching towards the ground"
Run Run Brother
There's so much to say about this song, but I literally can't formulate the words, so it's probably gonna be one that I come back to and properly analyse later. so in the meantime, here are my key take-aways
right from the beginning, it gives just an "oh-shit" feeling, just so much urgency and desperation
All three of them have such different singing voices and styles and the combination of the three just makes me so happy and I don't even know how to like express what I'm feeling
Back to the thing about Dally always calling Johnny (and Pony, but we're emotional about Johnny here) "brother"
the music is just so fitting - I feel like I need to be up and moving every time I hear it, like if I ran ever this would be on the playlist 😂
And I'm going insane over the echoes of what has been previously been said - the "grease isn't given it's something you earn", and "let's leave this behind, let's just get up and go" like you're FORCED to face that they are being given what they want but in a really terrible way
Favourite line: "I hate to make you go, but there ain't no other way"
Justice for Tulsa
okay so I know that this is a really important song and everything, but I will admit this is the one I tend to skip most
I will say I think this song would hit harder if they kept with the themes of police brutality that there are in the novel and movie with regards to Dally's death (going off what I've heard about the script changes from people who have seen it, I can't verify myself)
The song feels very claustrophobic, with everyone just trying to blame everyone else, which I think is really well done. Especially with the multiple voices coming in with "you know just what you did"
And it does show the bias of the world trying to blame the Greasers just by reputation alone, which is thematically nice
and also just the kinda mob mentality of the whole thing, especially at the end, with a declaration of war
Favourite line: "or we could send them back a message, take an eye for an eye"
Death's at My Door
I think I've seen somewhere that this is the opening song for the second act and I just - fucking hell, what an opener 😂 they really just wanna destroy all of us, huh?
EDIT: I've been corrected, and it's Justice for Tulsa that starts act 2 - my bad guys, I don't know where I saw otherwise. JfT starting act 2 makes soo much more sense 😂
I wanted to like reach through my headphones somehow and hug Brody Grant, like holy shit
The first time I heard it all I could think about was how much he's going to blame himself when Johnny (and Dally) do die - especially with Johnny having comforted Pony about it
And I'm just emotional about the exploration of Pony thinking of himself as a burden on everyone he loves, especially going back to what Darry says to him in Runs in the Family reprise, just confirming everything that Pony already worries about himself
Favourite line: "I don't believe in the death that you're bringing - the reason I'm living is you"
Throwing in the Towel
I just love brothers okay? This song made me want to like message all my siblings and tell them I love them
I loved that we see Pony's inner thoughts and fears about being a burden on his brothers, immediately followed by seeing Darry's own thoughts and feelings - the two of them being so similar in how they blame themselves for everything
All three of the Curtis brothers being terrified of losing anyone else
AND THIS IS THE SODA CHARACTER REDEPTION I NEEDED - he becomes more than just the womaniser, you can see him having like actual thought and feelings, and the amount of emotion in Jason Schmidt's voice as he's trying to reassure Darry, like this song and Soda's letter gets across everything that makes Soda my favourite character
And there's something to be said about how they're finally like communicating their emotions 😂
Favourite line: "I know your head is full of doubt, but brother that's what love is all about"
Soda's Letter
Musical letters my beloved ❤️
I love songs like these - they're always just so vulnerable
It links to Tulsa '67 Reprise with the reference to how Soda kinda keeps the family all together. This song you can like see the strain that it has on him, trying to keep the brothers who he loves so much together, by trying to tell Pony that Darry does love him even though he shows it in a very different way
also anyone who has seen it and made it this far in the post can you tell me whether they keep in the bit about Pony reading this really heartfelt letter only to go "Soda's so dumb he can't fucking spell" because it's all I could think about when I listened to it for the first time
Favourite line: "Your brother needs you just as much as you need him, and brother we ain't doing to good alone"
Hoods Turned Heroes
The triumphant return of my beloved Two-Bit, and he's doing some king shit
I love him, okay?
This is another song where I know it's really important, but I actually don't have much to say about it, other than I do really enjoy it
Favourite line: "It's time to celebrate Greasers, take pride in the Greaser name"
Hopeless War
I love that it's just Cherry begging Pony not to change, and hoping that he's still an outsider of the Greasers like she is for the Socs, a hope that the two of them are still kindred spirits even after everything that happened
She knows that the rumble is gonna be where Pony loses that last bit of dreamer in him because he's holding just so much anger at the world - I dunno, there's something there I'm sure 😂
it's such a smooth transition into "Trouble" and I wanna SCREAM it's so good
Favourite line: "even if you win, it doesn't change a thing"
Trouble
It feels like a war chant or something
The music is just so agitated
It's like Run Run Brother where I feel the need to be up and moving
Favourite line: "Do it for Johnny, even the scores, time to rally the crew"
Little Brother
I get chills every time I listen to it
Something about Joshua Boone's voice guys, I don't even know like how someone goes about beginning to talk about it, but whoever takes over as Dally has got some big shoes to fill
It's a lament to Johnny, and I feel like I listen to it and I feel the same anger and indignation that Dally feels
It's a song where I listen to it and I know, even without having seen the production, how I'd stage it and that always makes me excited
The longer the song goes on, the more uneasy you feel listening to it
It links him and Darry together again, with how he blames himself for everything that happened to his little brother, he feels like he should have been able to protect Johnny, the way that Darry always tries to protect Ponyboy
The final tempo increase and the discordant violin at the end, and it feels like even just listening to it you're watching him fall into a grief-led madness, and his certainty that there's only one way that his story can end
Favourite line: "They can't take anymore from me - if I ain't got you, then I ain't got nothing else"
Stay Gold
It feels somehow criminal to put these songs next to each other, but I mean obviously they have to be - that's how they want you to feel, but it doesn't mean that I'm not mad about it
I've listened to it like a million times and it still brings me to tears every now and then
There's something about having the hopelessness of "Little Brother", with Dally bring so apologetic at having failed Johny, followed by Johnny asking Pony to tell him that there's still good in the world
Just how much everyone in this story needs each other and they don't realise that the others need them too, yknow?
Johnny being Dally's "gold" - a lot to say about that but yknow, this is already long as fuck
The simplicity of the music itself (same as with Soda's letter - makes them thematically the same blah blah blah with them both being letters and all that), but it makes the song much more vulnerable than some of the others - nothing for Sky Lakota-Lynch to hide behind
Also that line: "I have looked into a thankful father's eyes, telling me I've saved his daughters life", and how that links to what Johnny says in the book about the little girl's life being worth more than his - I dunno, it just got me emotional, okay?
Favourite line: "I hold on to the good 'cause I've made my peace with all the bad" and also "It's easy to forget when you're trying just to make it through"
Tulsa '67 Reprise
WE MADE IT BOYS (seriously though, for real, if you made it this far, thanks for reading through my descent into madness 😂 and please send your own thoughts and such, bc I'm desperate to hear other people's thoughts)
I said it at the beginning, but I think the reprise of this song makes the exposition at the beginning worth it
At the beginning we hear Ponyboy as a dreamer, and at the end he still has that, but rather than idolising and making everything spectacular, he sees beauty in the mundane - he sees it in his brothers, his friends, all of that
The call backs to the original song as well, which allow us to go back to the theme of looking at individuality - the Greasers wanting to be seen as more than just characatures, and by the end they are like fully-fleshed out people rather than just the basic stock figures we initially get them introduced as in Grease Got a Hold
The clearest examples are, of course, Darry and Soda
Darry goes from being "could have been a football star, people say he had a ticket out" to instead being "the toughest guy I've ever known"
Soda goes from "suffers from a broken heart" to "this family's life and soul"
and then it goes from "got no parents, we fend for ourselves" to "can you imagine how proud mum and dad would be"
just something so beautiful about that, I dunno
There's more I could say about the themes of brotherhood and individuality ("grease as their disguise", for example), but I'll spare it for now
Favourite line: "Just too damn good for growing old, and in his memory I stay gold"
(finally - if you've stuck around to the end, I've also recently set up an instagram account, just for me, so please also check that out if you wanna hear more about my thoughts about random musicals and stuff!)
Freddie 🐸 (Instagram)
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teecupangel · 1 year
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Desmond when he's dying: This would've never happened if I was just a pigeon.
Desmond: *Becomes a pigeon in the next life*
Introducing Desmond the Assassins suspiciously long-living pigeon.
(I love this for the sole purpose that turning Desmond into an eagle would have been the most obvious choice but you, nonny, deliberately turned him into a pigeon which is hilarious. Alright, let’s make Desmond’s pigeon life super weird)
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When Desmond woke up as a freaking pigeon, he was annoyed at himself. If he knew he could have been anything, he would have picked an eagle or even a freaking cat.
But nooooo. He just had to think he wanted to be a pigeon of all things.
Goddamn it.
Well, no use bemoaning his own cursed life.
He should get high up and see where the hell he was because this open sky was definitely not the Grand Temple.
Soooooo… how was he supposed to fly?
Just… flap his wings?
Flap
Flap
Flap
Fuck.
It wasn’t working.
Okay.
Maybe he just needed… momentum. Yeah, momentum might help?
So Desmond took a few step-
Sigh.
Desmond took a few hops back before running straight ahead into the edge of the roof where he had woken up on, flapping his wings the entire time and…
Yes! He was flying.
Holy shit, he was flying.
Wait.
Nope.
He was gliding.
He was fucking gliding and he was going down fast.
Ohfuckohfuckohfuckohf-
Slam.
Feathers flew everywhere as he smacked straight to a wall.
As if that wasn’t humiliating enough, he began to skid down, falling into the grassy ground with a pathetic thud.
A shadow appeared over him but he didn’t move.
He could feel one of his wings was now broken.
But more importantly, he was too embarrassed by that pathetic attempt at flying that he’d rather lie down on the ground for a while and contemplate just letting this bird life die out here.
“Are you dead, little one?” A voice that cracked at random asked and Desmond kept his eyes closed in total defeat.
He would like to say ‘yeah, pretty much’ and also 'uh, rude?' but it only came out as a sad cooing sound.
“It’s alright.” He felt hands grab him a bit too roughly, making him let out a pathetic cooing sound once more and the hands lessened their grip. He was cradled into someone’s arms and he was bounced lightly as the person carrying him began to run.
When he finally opened his eyes once more, he blinked when he recognized the gates ahead of them.
The front gates of Masyaf…
He was in Masyaf…
And it wasn’t the Masyaf that he had been in pictures after he heard from Shaun that Masyaf was under Abstergo’s control.
No.
This was the Masyaf he was familiar with.
This was-
“Altaïr.”
The teenager holding him stopped running and held him close as a…
Holy shit.
Was that Al Mualim?
He looked…
Young… ish.
“We had been worried. You shouldn’t leave the training ring without being dismissed.” Al Mualim said in a kind fatherly voice that made Desmond immediately want to peck him.
“I’m sorry, master. It��s just…” The teenager (holy shit, it was Altaïr. Not only that… it was Altaïr with a cracking voice! Desmond couldn’t stop himself from finding this amusing) raised his arms slightly to show Desmond who tried to glare at Al Mualim as a pigeon, “This little one broke its wing when it was trying to fly. I figured the healers might be able to do something about it.”
Al Mualim stared at Desmond for a moment before his eyes softened, “Very well. You’re dismissed today, Altaïr. Have the healers check the pigeon but…”
Al Mualim placed a hand on Altaïr’s shoulder and said, “Do not get your hopes up. Sometimes, it is impossible to fix a thing that is too broken already.”
Altaïr’s hold on Desmond tightened just a bit as he said quietly, “I understand, master.”
Desmond let out a cooing “yeah, fuck you too, asshole” that Al Mualim didn’t respond to, which made sense, since Desmond was now a fucking pigeon.
Ugh.
He just knew this new life of his was going to be a pain.
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(More of an idea summary)
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Altaïr
Desmond spends most of pre-AC1 getting treated for his broken wing and trying to learn how to fly afterward. The recruits and novices like him because he doesn’t act like a normal bird and likes to screech whenever Altaïr tries to leave him (in his defense, he was a grounded bird in a place that likes to find ‘alternative’ uses for stuff they can’t use and he can only think of one way to use a flightless bird who can’t even deliver messages).
He likes sitting on Altaïr’s shoulder. Whenever Abbas is nearby and being annoyed, he uses his minimal ‘flying’ skills to reach Abbas and peck him until he falls (Altaïr is always there to catch him). Because of this, Desmond got a hang of gliding and swooping (the falling is, unfortunately, still his greatest nemesis).
Abbas once threatened to cook Desmond and he almost got his eye pecked out because of it. (then received a very descriptive morbid detail of what Altaïr plans to do to him if he ever just as much try to pluck any of Desmond's feather)
Desmond will not, under any circumstances, eat worms. Kadar is the one who finds out Desmond likes fruits. Altaïr says Desmond is getting fat from all the fruits Kadar is giving him but Desmond pecks him. After that, Altaïr just gives Desmond a disappointed glare every time he sees Desmond eating the fruits Kadar brings him (who likes seeing him eat because Desmond makes this little sweet cooing sounds when he eats).
Malik secretly gives a bit of his own food whenever Altaïr is away because Desmond likes staying with him whenever Altaïr is busy. Malik never tells Altaïr about it and Desmond is a bird so it’s not like he can tattletale on him. However, Desmond’s soft spot for Malik makes Altaïr and Malik have a ‘nicer’ relationship… sorta.
Desmond finally learns to fly during Altaïr’s ‘punishment’. He saw Altaïr being chased by guards after killing one of the nines (maybe Garnier?) and he just… swoopes in to peck the guards to give Altaïr a chance to escape.
Maria is the one who actually asks outright why nobody is asking why this pigeon is still alive? Altaïr just says that it might be connected to the Apple of Eden because it does light up whenever Desmond touches it with his talons (Desmond doesn’t feel anything. It literally just lights up like a touch-activated lightbulb and Desmond is both disappointed and amused at the same time. He uses it to tell Altaïr he's been studying the Apple for too long and he needs to take a break.)
Darim likes giving him fruits too but he stops when Sef was born because he wants to be seen as a responsible big brother. Sef, on the other hand, loves Desmond and plays with him a lot. Desmond becomes an unofficial babysitter because everyone just agrees that the POE must have done something to his brain. That’s the only explanation they could think of as to why Desmond acts so intelligent. Desmond questions everyone's sanity for letting a bird babysit two children.
On the other hand, any time Desmond tries to actually communicate to someone by trying to write on the sand or that one incident where he tipped the ink bottle and used it to make some kind of ‘hand writing’, his words always end up gibberish and Desmond isn’t sure if ‘something’ is making him unable to write properly OR if there was some kind of human speech to bird language thing going on in his mind and that’s why he understands everyone but that shit doesn’t work when he’s trying to write his bird language. (Although, he can’t communicate with any other animals anyway)
Desmond stays with Sef when Altaïr and the other go to assassinate Genghis Khan. At this point, Desmond is a freaking master in bird stealth and manages to find incriminating documents that shows Abbas was planning a coup (Abbas and his cohorts got sloppy now that Altaïr was away). The coup was unsuccessful and Sef and Malik lived. (because fuck canon)
Desmond stays with the Ibn-La’Ahad bloodline (especially Sef’s bloodline) until something inside him suddenly calls to him, creating a golden thread-like mist that only he can see.
Having a feeling of where it was going to take him, Desmond only leaves after staying with his last ‘owner’ until her dying breath.
=================================
.
Ezio
When Desmond gets to Italia, Ezio has just been born.
He stays by the window and watches Ezio. The maids tried to shoo him away whenever they see him. Giovanni sees him at least twice but just thought he was a normal bird.
Ezio grew up seeing him as his guardian angel (“Your guardian angel is a pigeon?” “At least I can see mine!”) and that idea only solidified when he was a teenager who just learned pigeons are not supposed to live this long.
However, Desmond keeps his distance because he knows that people would find it weird (and maybe even the devil’s work) if Ezio has a pet pigeon who is still alive after all these years.
He does, however, always fly near Ezio whenever he used the rooftops and stays with him if they’re in a hiding spot or really high up.
This, inadvertently, helps Ezio be better at freerunning and climbing (and stealth) before that fateful day.
On that fateful day, Desmond leaves Ezio to warn the Auditores by squawking really loudly on the rooftop until Federico had enough and went up to see what has Ezio’s guardian angel all squawking up a storm when it was usually silent. Federico sees the guards coming towards the Palazzo and alerts his father because Desmond made a show of diving in and getting one of the wanted paper that they all had to identify the Auditores and giving it to Federico with a flapping motion that says “run, fucking run!!!”
The Auditores don’t get captured but they had to go into hiding instead. Giovanni tries to talk to his friend Uberto Alberti about this with the evidence but Desmond is not having any of that. Federico is stuck because he’s been ordered to protect his family but Ezio was still out in Firenze so Desmond goes to him and takes him to Giovanni.
Ezio gets there in time to see his father being cornered by guards and he and Desmond helps Giovanni get out.
Unfortunately, the only thing that shows that the Auditores were innocent was with Uberti and he had burned it in front of Giovanni for dramatic effect and because he isn’t stupid.
Left with no choice, the Auditore family leaves Firenze to seek shelter in Monteriggioni.
(Altaïr’s statue has a pigeon on his shoulder and Desmond tries to get Ezio to realize that he’s the pigeon by sitting next to his pigeon statue and mimicking the puffed-up pose. Ezio just chuckles and says “Yes, angelo mio, you are more beautiful than Altaïr’s pigeon”)
=================================
(Okay, that’s as far as I got. If anyone wants me to do a semi-summary/semi-fic continuation of the Kenway soap opera, Arno and the Frye twins, let me know XD)
=================================
(Unorganized ideas)
There is no eagle connection ala Layla Trilogy between Desmond and any of his ‘owners’. He's literally just a pigeon with a long lifespan.
Sef once pinched a feather from Desmond without his approval because he dropped the feather that the Rafiq gave him, Desmond pecked him in the ear the entire time they were back in the bureau and the Rafiq just looked at him with an expression of ‘Do you really think I don’t know the difference between a pigeon’s feather and an eagle’s feather? Bitch, I’ve been Rafiq longer than you’ve been alive.’ but only takes the feather silently while Sef grins at him. It took lots of fruits for Desmond to stop being angry at him (and Sef knew he fucked up because the moment they returned to Masyaf, Desmond sat on Darim’s shoulder with his back turned, making Darim go “What did you do now, Sef?” in that tired older brother tone that he has used so many times by now)
Petruccio absolutely believes Desmond is Ezio’s guardian angel. Claudia and Federico didn’t until Desmond helped them escape
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no-see-um-incorrect · 10 months
Text
I am babysitting my nephew at the moment SOooOOO. My favorite redacted boys babysitting (i’m so bored plz help)
Guy🍕
This weekend‘s gift is up first 
He gives me older brother’s best friend energy.
He’s the guy(literally) that gives the kid a controller that’s not plugged in, so they feel included.
He comes over and brings a pizza and candy for the kids (and him. be honest)
he’ll make up some ridiculous elaborate game that the kids love.
His silly personality helps when a kid is crying or upset 
He would never volunteer to babysit, but if you ask him, he’ll say yes.
Overall guy is a very trustworthy babysitter 
David🐺
He’s the alpha he’s used to dealing with childish adults, so you’d think children would be a piece of cake.
kids are scared of him, Babies love him, toddlers are his worst enemy.
They know no rules 
They know no weakness 
They smell fear 
Asher and Angel find it hilarious. Because Asher knows how secretly terrified David is of toddlers. Angel just finds it funny. 
Overall, yes, you can trust your alpha with your children BUT  it will take some emotional sacrifice on his part 
Asher🐾 
Asher can handle kids in a controlled environment. Like he can hang out with the children of the pack. but he starts getting awkward after too long. 
“BaAaAbe one of them started crying…. whatdoIdooo!”
“is he hungry?,thirsty? What does it want?!”
 it slowly morphs into chaos as the night progresses 
Overall, Asher definitely isn’t the first choice for a babysitter but as long as he has babe’s assistance, he’s definitely not the last
Milo💥
This man. He would be a good dad. 
He would be a great babysitter, amazing……..He would be a really good dad. Our feisty werewolf Boi loves kids. 
“Give um here ash…hey little buddy~….🎶hmmm🎵HmmM🎶mmmhmmm🎵” *Lullaby continues*
(Ima cry I love him so much)
“OH. I know me and sweetheart’s kid would kick your kids ASS ASH!” (this happened)
Sweetheart didn’t even know he was good with kids until their first solstice together. And seeing him with the pack kids. 
Overall, 100% Milo is the first to go to for a babysitter 
Caelum🍪 & Gavin😈
I’m pairing these two together because it would be a not great idea… to leave caelum unsupervised with a small child. they will either achieve world domination OR caelum will end up having a breakdown because of the roller coaster that is child emotions.
Gavin is there to achieve balance 
Caelum is the entertainer. Gavin is the caretaker. 
“Ok buddy. Can you handle the little one well, I make their bottle?”
“Yup! Yup! You got it Gav!”
*Proceeds to play patty cake for 20 minutes*
Both the little one and caelum end up, falling asleep by the end of the night.
Yes, overall awesome babysitting duo 
Sam
Sam was my first vampire boi I listened to  so when he referred to the newly turned vamps as “newborns”
…….I thought he was a Dilf vampire……
That being said, I think Sam would be really good with kids. He’s very patient very soft and very calm…. and very tolerant. ALSO. Kids are very accident prone. Sam being good at healing will come in handy. 
: take them on car rides to get them to sleep 
: I feel like the little ones would be fascinated by his fangs
: Darlin comes home and he’s just got a baby asleep on his chest 
he’s not the first one you’d think of one, thinking of a babysitter, but he knows what he’s doing 
Forgive me if these are stupid, I am pretty tired and my glasses are. Say it with me 👏STILL BROKEN👏

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Nova’s Notes - Dracula Daily - May 25 + 26
The Suitor Squad speaks!!! Ahhh love them <3
Checking in with my favorite wet cat man, Seward is….not doing too well. Let’s listen to his podcast, shall we?
“Ebb tide in appetite to-day. Cannot eat, cannot rest, so diary instead. Since my rebuff of yesterday I have a sort of empty feeling; nothing in the world seems of sufficient importance to be worth the doing…”
Awwww John :(((( to quote Zuko, “That’s rough, buddy.”
Notice how he speaks here. Of course, beside the obvious abruptness and the fall in his appetite today, he also uses the word “rebuff” to describe Lucy’s rejection. Not to Merriam-Webster you, but I wanted to give a quick definition of rebuff because it actually surprised me when I read it:
“an abrupt or ungracious refusal or rejection of an offer, request, or friendly gesture.”
As expected, John is taking this pretty hard because to call Lucy’s rejection of him “abrupt” or “ungracious” is just…untrue? To be fair, we only had Lucy’s side of the story, but that just doesn’t sound like Lucy. I mean, she literally *cried* at the thought of causing him pain!! I’m not trying to police his words here — obviously, it’s his mental breakdown diary and he gets to choose the language — but it does show that he’s not taking this half so well as Quincey (probably) is, and Lucy totally read the vibes right when she worried about him walking away from this broken-hearted. Bro is in the trenches here.
Soooooo he turns to his work at the asylum for help. He really needs to get some better coping mechanisms, but at least we get to meet Renfield!
“In my manner of doing it there was, I now see, something of cruelty. I seemed to wish to keep him to the point of his madness—a thing which I avoid with the patients as I would the mouth of hell. [paragraph break] (Mem., under what circumstances would I not avoid the pit of hell?) Omnia Romæ venalia sunt. Hell has its price! verb. sap”
One thing I love about Dracula is that all of these characters have their own little quirks when talking. Stoker does a fairly good job of giving each character a unique “voice”, which I appreciate. Jonathan writes in a fairly meticulous way with long paragraphs of describing landscapes (plus, “lizard fashion”, of course). Mina writes in much the same way, but different. She seems to break into a more playful style of writing, as you can see with her “???” and “two-pages-to-the-week-with-Sunday-squeezed-in-a-corner-diaries”. Lucy, of course, probably has the most unique voice so far because her letters seem to be written impulsively. In one sentence, she laments how miserable Seward and Quincey are and in the next she celebrates how perfectly happy she is. It’s an active and emotional stream of consciousness we get to see unfold in her letters and — I’ll bet — in the way she talks.
Seward is a new voice and he already is showing a few quirks here. It’s interesting to see how this voice changes since we know he’s actually *speaking* these words, not just writing them down. Unethical behavior with Renfield aside (stop baiting the patients Seward!!!!), notice how he makes a mem. for a rhetorical question.
I find this fascinating because Jonathan does this mem., or memorandum, when he wants to remember something — such as recipes for Mina. But Seward does it when he wants to self-depreciate his own phrasing. Unless, he’s seriously asking the question to remember for later, which he might honestly be due to his next sentences (and in that case, oooooh buddy you’re going to be regretting asking that in a few months). He hits us with a Latin phrase which translates to (from what I could find), “All Rome is for sale” and then ANOTHER ONE which means “a word to the wise” or “enough said”.
What can we garner from this? Other than liking Latin, John likes self-deprecation and also philosophical thoughts about hell, or at least the metaphor of it — and that’s what he wants to save for later. Very interesting!!!
Describing Renfield (who’s 59, huh), I like how he touches on selfish vs. unselfish influences and how that affects humans. I find it interesting that, contrary to popular belief, being unselfish is what Seward would consider to be more dangerous — though it makes sense from his logic.
A selfish person would keep themselves close and be cautious about putting themselves in too much danger. After all, your life is not worth much if you put it at risk and that’s even more true in an asylum. Using “armor” and a “centripetal force” with self as the “fixed point” as metaphors for this kind of behavior is fascinating.
Meanwhile, someone “unselfish” or to put it a different way, acting under the influence of someone else for some unnamed reason (duty, love, etc.) will likely stop at nothing to achieve that goal once they’re put on it. It’s also dangerous to another person because they might not know what that goal is — and might end up being collateral damage as a result. Seward is keen to find out what Renfield’s reasoning is because he doesn’t want to be that collateral damage (and because he’s a curious, semi-unethical doctor buutttt). I like how he adds that only a series of accidents can balance this kind of centripetal force. Thanks for the metaphorical science lessons, Seward!
On to Quincey, my beloved. <333 His letter is to Arthur!
“We've told yarns by the camp-fire in the prairies; and dressed one another's wounds after trying a landing at the Marquesas; and drunk healths on the shore of Titicaca.”
So from the opening lines, we can gather that Quincey and Arthur (and yes, Seward too) have been globetrotting together! Because Titicaca is in South America and the Marquesas happens to be a collective of islands in the Southern Pacific Ocean. Quincey later refers to Seward as their “old pal at the Korea” which *could* mean Korea the country, or as this forum comment section speculates, could also mean the Korea Strait.
It’s super sweet that while Quincey and John want to drown their sorrows in wine, Quincey doesn’t hesitate to invite Arthur to celebrate his engagement to the love of his life as well as theirs oof!
It does seem like Quincey didn’t know before that Arthur was the one Lucy was in love with, because he seemed to speak vaguely to Lucy that he “must be a good fellow if you loved him” and “he’ll have to deal with me if he doesn’t know his happiness”. But, to me, it seems a little too much like what you would say to your friend if you didn’t know the other person. I’m getting a generic “he’ll date you if he knows what’s good for him” vibe.
My guess? Arthur probably wrote to Quincey saying “I’m engaged!!! To Lucy!!!” because they do all know each other and are friends, but maybe Arthur hadn’t wanted to share his feelings with the boy group just yet (he seems like a private person, since Lucy couldn’t get a read on his feelings) or wanted to keep it a surprise until he knew for sure his feelings were reciprocated. Of course, once Quincey received this letter, he put together that “ohhhh Art was my rival the whole time” and probably slapped his knee about the whole thing. It doesn’t stop him from inviting him to the next gathering, though!
The other theory I have is that all three of them knew they loved Lucy and each amicably agreed to still be friends, no matter who she chose (if she chose any of them). It would definitely make sense since Quincey talks about him and Seward “mingling their weeps” as if Arthur would know what he means by that. Additionally, it would make sense, since they all know each other pretty well and likely would know if they all were in love with the same woman, right? That could be why Seward and Quincey were so quick to ask if there was someone else — I mean, yes, that’s always the obvious ask when your proposal fails — but this could add another layer of meaning to their asking.
As for Quincey’s generic approach, that could be explained by him not knowing whether it was Seward or Arthur that Lucy loved (or, perhaps, an unknown third person) and he didn’t want to ask Lucy who it was in that moment, figuring he would find out later if it was indeed one of his friends.
No matter the theory, this letter says a lot about Quincey’s character! He’s obviously a good and honest man for not hesitating to invite his friend to the gathering, even when that friend is engaged to the woman he’s in love with as well. There’s not a lot more to be said about this that hasn’t already been said — but yeah, Quincey is definitely in my top 3 favorite Dracula characters and this is part of why.
Finally, Art’s letter to Quincey!
“Count me in every time. I bear messages which will make both your ears tingle.”
As this is a telegram, he has to make this short and sweet. But make your ears tingle??? Art???? Lol, I’m presuming this is about the proposal or about some other hot gossip (if it’s explained later, I genuinely forgot — again, it’s been two years since I’ve read the book and I keep feeling more and more like a first time reader).
Either way, I hope this is the year we stop calling Arthur boring (if we haven’t already), because he already doesn’t sound boring from just this message and it’s in telegram format.
He sounds like a guy you’d like to party with. “Count me in every time”, “make your ears tingle”? Sounds like a party guy to me! And obviously, he had to be fun-loving and resourceful enough to Quincey if they’ve traveled the world together (and, maybe have seen combat? — not quite clear on that one).
I’ll definitely be keeping a close eye on Arthur this read around. Since I was among the people that called him boring in 2022, I want to see if there’s more to him than meets the eye!
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