174 years old, heart of a bear, look like a 33 year old
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Text
svccbus:
a smile graces her lips when she hears her company. she doesn’t mean it to be charming, she barely ever does. but it translates so, if with sharp edge to it. delilah is hardly mocking bennett, but she does think he is amusing. for a man, that is. it’s equally amusing to use his powers when he is paying attention to her patrons. if she was a tad more cautious, delilah should probably let patrons bother her, just so it doesn’t become evident that she is the only one that never seems to need the bouncers’ help to deal with them. however, she doubts anyone notices. bennett seems to be an exception, though she isn’t quite sure.
her cigarette burns when she inhales again and she drops her arm to the side to tap the ash away. she licks her lips and looks at bennett from where she lays against the wall. delilah is completely relaxed, doesn’t see the reason for bennett to be so tense. “oh i was just trying to be considerate, not smoking inside,” delilah says, smile on her lips but an amused tone that betrays the lie of her sentence. “am i in trouble?” she asks him, sarcasm not failing. “are you here to scold me?”
As if consideration even entered into her mind. Bennett somehow doubts Delilah had taken the time to think like that. She did what she wanted, much like many of them here. It doesn’t matter that she’s out here, not really. Except for the fact that she’s outside of the club, in the back, with a door that locks between her and the club. And while she can take care of herself, it is Bennett’s job to be aware of security risks.
“Darling, you’re always trouble,” he drawls. “And I’m not here to scold you.” He leans against the wall. “Just here to make sure you don’t get into more trouble. Or make sure no one else does.”
He has no doubt that if someone tried to tangle with Delilah, they would end up being the ones in trouble. But he doesn’t tell her that. She’d get too much satisfaction out of it.
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
also for @aethelwynarktos
Halloween Sentence Meme ! 🎃
some slightly nsfw !!
“ I’m turning the lights out now. “
“ They’re coming. Get ready. “
“ Making out in a graveyard is definitely morally wrong. “
“ If I hear the words ‘killer clown’ once more I’m ditching you. “
“ You need a damn costume. “
“ This is my costume ! “
“ Let’s just lie here and read creepy pasta’s for the rest of the night. “
“ Spooky spaghetti ? “
“ You look… hot. “
“ That’s the shittest pumpkin I’ve ever seen. “
“ HOLY FUCK. “
“ You deserved that, asshole. “
“ Wanna go in first ? “
“ I knew you’d end up holding my hand. “
“ Let’s swap. I don’t like these. “
“ I don’t wanna go ! “
“ You’re fucking with me. “
“ I didn’t invite you for a reason. “
“ You look pretty when I can’t see your face. “
“ I can’t believe you stole that old lady’s pumpkin. “
“ That’s fucking adorable. “
“ Put the cat down, it’s not yo- “
“ JESUS FUCK IT BIT ME. “
“ I haven’t even turned the lights out yet. “
“ I ain’t ‘fraid of no ghosts. “
“ You’re one sexy, sexy zombie. “
“ Did you see that ? What the fuck. “
“ Come here. “
“ You hear that ? “
“ That was not my dog. “
“ Did you leave the door open ? “
“ I’ve never been a fan of the ghost train. “
“ Your tights are ripped, loser. “
“ If they look at you one more fucking time… “
“ I don’t like these woods. “
“ My mama always said NEVER take candy from strangers. “
#halloween sentence meme#inbox games#i can start a para or a thread or just do a drabble . let me know whatchu want#for him and aethelwyn
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
dempwlf:
DARCY’S EYES NARROW, HER head tilting upward. she holds her pride there; it’s seen in her shoulders, too, in the way they straighten. she’s made a mistake and it’s her job to clean it up, but something about this man tells her she needs to be careful. there’s something different about him, but darcy can’t exactly place it — perhaps it’s that shit-eating smirk she’s seen on countless other ( male, solely ) faces before.
her fingers delve into the deep pockets inside her coat only for her to pull out a bank note: twenty, though it’s obvious that she has far more. she offers it between two fingers with a nod to her fake id and the rise of her dark brows, a silent request for her id card back ( alongside entrance ) in exchange for money.
she has a picture in her head of him swiping the cash and keeping the piece of plastic. she makes sure that she’s keeping an eye on him as she offers it; darcy might be small but her reflexes are fast, and it’s how she passed the moon trials in the first place. now, it’s all up to him, and the rise in her brows shows that she’s simply awaiting his response. bribery — it works almost every time. which will it be?
Her posture changes, as if ready for a fight, or to imperiously order him to let her through. Neither tack will work, and Bennett is ready for both. “Aw, princess, we’ve had nights where the cover was more than that,” he snorted. Did she really think a twenty dollar bill was going to solve all her problems?
He held her ID up again, looking at it, though it was unnecessary. It was just to annoy her, and to see what she came up with next. “Anyway, I’m not that cheap,” he added with a wink in her direction. He wouldn’t sell out for a mere twenty bucks.
“And this place would get fined more than that if anyone found you inside.” There were harsher laws for places like the Lusty Lady. Places of ill repute, low morals, and even lower standards.
“Besides, what would your daddy say to you being in there?” He didn’t bother asking what a nice girl like her was doing trying to get in. People came sniffing around looking for a thrill, and the idea of going to a club like the Lusty Lady was taboo to many upstanding citizens.
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
luciahowls:
As the remnants of sleep (and the nightmares faded underneath the harsh white light of the kitchen, Lucía’s walls started rising again, vulnerability being chased away in favor of her seductive bravado. The feral animal was still there, though. Always on the prowl and always awaiting an excuse to pounce. She heard it growl in her head at the nickname “Lucy”, but she decided to let it slip. It was easier to let things slip with the two knuckleheads that she shared a roof with. Easier, or actually more about convenience. A perfectly shaped eyebrow raised at the display of abdominal muscles and the painful excuse of her mother tongue and she peered into the box, trying to decide if she was feeling beaten down enough to indulge in some sugary temptations.
“…Do I look like I indulge in cheat days, Benny?” she played his game, a hand casually sliding up to expose a delicately tattoed and slim thigh, the lacey waistband of her underwear and equally taught stomach, with slight marks along her own “six pack”. Letting his shirt drop back down to cover her legs, she caved and carefully picked what she hoped was a jelly filled donut and sank her teeth into it, much like she did into her prey during a full moon.
The crimson filling dribbled along her lips and she wiped it with her finger, licking it while making eye contact with Bennett. “…Worth it. Care to share?” She offered the brunet.
He could see when she started to wake up fully. The sleepy look fell out of her bedroom eyes. Her teasing was of a more vicious kind, her tongue sharp enough to draw some of the blood she so enjoyed.
“You know what you look like, Lucia,” he replied, eyes tracking the movement of her hand and the rise of his shirt. He had seen it before--more than once--and yet his eyes never tired of the contradiction that was this wolf. Smooth skin, but married with evidence of past fights. A soft coating over muscles of steel. She was an iron fist in kid gloves, and it wasn’t as if Bennett would have her any other way. Too soft and she’d break in his big hands.
She knew what she was doing to him, and she enjoyed it. Frankly, so did he. But let her try to torture him, to fill him with perceived longing. If she wanted to play with him, he was game.
His gaze did not leave hers as she thoroughly licked her finger. He was enjoying the show, and felt the tightening in his pants to prove it. “Sure. Bring it over here.” He crooked a finger at her, eyes of a predator watching her every move, even as it was a man’s seductive smile on his lips.
pizza and donuts
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
He smirked, seeing her discomfited. Pretty young women--or young appearing women--used to getting what they want liked to flounce up to him as if they owned the world and everything in it. She had clearly not expected him to do more than glance at the flimsy piece of plastic. Another attempt by the government to control and monitor. But that’s beside the point. Bennett has been known to look the other way once or twice when it’s close, but he protects his livelihood as well. And if the Lusty Lady gets in trouble because of something he did--or didn’t do--it’s his ass on the line. And he likes both his ass and this job.
Besides, this isn’t just a random underage girl, looking to get in. (Half the time he wonders why they come at all, but then, these are attractive young women who the patrons can touch, and the girls can leverage that. The smart ones anyway.) No, this is a Dempewoelf.
Bennett didn’t get to be his age without knowing who the main players are in the game of the supernatural world. Not quite for supremacy, but close. There has been no open war between the species in a long time, but it still pays to know who is who.
Would her famous father object more to him letting her in? Or not letting her in?
Bennett slapped the identification card on his fingers, and looked at the girl, waiting for an answer. He did not turn it towards her, did not give her an opportunity to sneak those bright eyes down for a peek at something she should already know. “I know, what it says. But you don’t seem to.” He raised an eyebrow at her, not willing to play his last card just yet. That he knew her identity. Knew exactly who she was.
He wanted to see how much trouble she could get herself into first without any help.
‘ YOU WANT MY WHAT? ’ darcy frowns, having expected the fake id to simply fly with him. other bouncers never ask her for her birthday; her picture is her own, only it’s her last name and birth date that are different. darcy simply doesn’t like to throw the name dempewoelf around. ‘ i… ’ she’d memorised the birthday on the fake id once, but since it’s been so long since she was last asked for it, darcy isn’t even sure how old it says she is on there. her lips press together in irritation. trying to save herself with a bluff, darcy goes on the offensive as she asks, ‘ seriously? everything is right there. ’ FT. @bennettorsin
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
taliawells:
“I can’t say that I’d be inclined to turn down a beautiful person, or a beautiful cocktail for that matter.” She gave a shake of reddened curls and a small smirk to match the one offered to her. Talia was not one to drink in too deeply of another person’s company, yet she had no qualms letting longing glances follow her departing form. She would rarely perch for more than a drink or two. Gaining Talia’s interest was one thing, and keeping it was another task entirely.
Under the water, Aethalia Nirem had been captivated by one soul. There had been potential for depth, far deeper than the familiar bond and intricacies of an intimate friendship she had not let progress. The potential for all encompassing surrendered had been the one thing to scare her dauntless soul, and she had taken to keeping things much shallower on land. A smattering of lonely evenings had fallen victim to pleasant faces, though drinks and empty kisses had been Talia’s ploy to busy inquisitive mouths. The worst of all were the ones that would betray the illusion of letting her thoughts slip elsewhere and bring to light just how shallow and empty this whole facade was. A loneliness mitigated by a carnal distraction, though she never stayed to awake in foreign beds.
She much preferred quipping while behind the bar – a solid surface separating her from another. Talia had a few favored faces that would grace the stools in front of her, and others that had her snaking behind a coworker to occupy another area. Bennett’s was a familiar one, though they had not exchanged a myriad of words at length. Be it at Bacchus or Talia slipping into the Lusty Lady to wait for Kamryn or to simply drink elsewhere. A huff of air escaped from the meyr at his response. A snort betrayed with the ghost of a smile. Talia let her eyes scan, unbothered to count when her hand snaked around a bottle of rye. She made quick work of putting on a show, the ultimate flourish being a swill of absinthe to coat the glass before she strained the cocktail. A coiled twist of lemon peel was enough to garnish as she pushed the sazerac forth. “The smallest kiss from the green fairy, my good sir.”
He took it as some sort of triumph eliciting a smile and a laugh from her, no matter how small. Bennett knew that people were more likely to be generous with those they liked, and, whether they realized it or not, making people laugh was a way to make them like you more. It was a tactic, a tool. Bennett didn’t truly care for the opinions of others, but having allies was always more beneficial than enemies. And most people either liked Bennett or hated him. He knew he was something of an acquired taste.
He held the drink up, the glass looking almost small in his big mitt. The cocktail brought to eye level, he looked inside it, watching the liquids swirl and settle. His gaze then returned to the bartender.
“I’ll take any kiss I can get from you,” he winked, before taking a sip of the girl’s concoction. It wasn’t bad. At least he could taste the alcohol. And she had cut a nice figure showing off to make the drink itself.
“So was four hundred and ninety six actually this?” he asked, gesturing to the glass. “Or were you going to make this for me regardless?”
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
lostperle:
“He’s not going to be bacon, I bet he’s going to be a big show pig. Like the ones judged by how fat they are and stuff.” While Perle said this the farmer made a very obvious attempt not to look at either of them.
Though she had to admit the sound of bacon did sound delicious, she couldn’t imagine eating such a cute pig like the one in her arms. Instead she was perfectly blissful in her ignorance.
She holds the pig out further offering to let him hold the pig, though it’s not her place to offer. “Do you want to try holding him? Girls love seeing big guys holding small animals, ya know. It shows a sensitive side.”
Bennett did not look at the farmer probably for the same reason the farmer was avoiding their gazes. So he didn’t start laughing outright. He had already tried to piss on this innocent’s parade, he’d let it go for now rather than argue the point with her. He wasn’t there to make little girls cry, however much fun that was. But it was a little early in the day.
He looked down at the squirming piglet with an indecipherable look. Bennett had handled plenty of livestock in his time, but those unused to shifters tended to cause a stink. They could sense the bear in him, feel the predator hiding beneath his muscles, waiting below the skin. It tended to freak them out.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t need small animals to get girls,” he smirked at her, winking.
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
ianthe-venilia-violette:
The octave of his voice vibrated her spine and Ianthe was clearly aware her friend had walked away by the time she spoke. Turning carefully she lowered her gaze, up and down his large frame- how many times had someone looked at her with that exact expression? Too many times to count in the last eight months. “Disappointed?” Ianthe quipped her attention stolen by the vibrant costumes in the window before she turned towards Bennet with a click of her tongue.
Ianthe curled her fingers under the fabric of her sweater and lifted it towards her chin revealing her bare chest. “Memory jogged yet?” She questioned and after a beat more she released the fabric covering her lilthe frame once more. “Really if you wanted to see my breasts up close all you had to do was ask - “ Ianthe tilted her head towards the store. “Go in with me. My company abandoned me and I’ve always been told shopping is better with someone else.”
Oh, but wasn’t she bold? He hadn’t fully believed it when her fingers crept under her top, blinked at the beautiful orbs revealed to him. It was not an act for the stage stage--or if it was, then she was living the act as well, and did he really mind that? Not one fucking bit. He was never going to protest a woman showing herself off to him, especially when she looked like that.
“I think you made up for any disappointment,” he replied, straight faced before the smile won out. Really, but who could help smiling? Even over a century under his belt, he was still reduced to a schoolboy in the face of a woman’s body. At least he had better control under his belt as well. “If I had known that all I had to do was ask....” he stepped closer, playing with the hem of her shirt so recently raised. He let it drop at her offer, slightly surprised, but at the same time pleased with her offer. He had a feeling this girl was going to be fun.
“If I get to watch you try things on,” he stipulated. “You gonna let me in the change room with you?” he asked, pushing his luck with a boyish smile thrown into the mix.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bennett liked swimming well enough, and he was no coward by any means. But there was something unnerving about the ocean to him. Always had been. It was deep, and dark, and mysterious, and filled with things Bennett could not see or control.
He was not afraid of it. Just...warily respectful. He could swim fine, but that wouldn’t help him if a great beasty from the depths grabbed him, would it? Short stints were fine. Lakes, rivers, streams, swimming pools, all good. But Bennett wasn’t planning on taking any pleasure cruises any time soon. Aside from his own thoughts on the matter, he had seen enough men die while on the water. Sailors, soldiers. No one could fight the power of the sea for long, and even if Bennett did think he could last, he wasn’t about to put it to the test.
The aquarium was a way to see some of the things that hid beneath the water’s surface. He wouldn’t count it as seeing what he was missing, because what were the fucking chances he’d see any of these critters anywhere he swam? And it confirmed that he sure as shit didn’t need to go poking around under the sea.
He sat as a group of cubs--kids ran by, staying out of their way as their harried teacher hurried behind. Their shouts and laughter echoed in the space, and hurt Bennett’s sensitive ears. Their voices were higher pitched than he was used to. And he preferred screams of pain, rage, and fear. Not childish voices just being annoying.
He squeezed the bridge of his nose as he sat on the bench, looking up when a voice of a slightly more pleasant variety entered his consciousness.
“Yeah, looks about right,” he nodded, looking between the page before him and the aquarium in front of him. “They’re a little more colourful though,” he added, as if it weren’t obvious.
Where: The Oceanarium When: 9/28/19, 2:30 pm Who: Open!!
The Oceanarium was one of Phoenix’s favorite places in Sioux Falls. Sure, it was a bit of a drive from Rapid City, but in her mind, it was worth it. Her blue eyes were always as wide as a child’s as she walked through the building. Her favorite creatures were the various jellyfish and seahorses that seemed almost like impossibly beautiful beings. She would sit among the fish and imagine far off places that she’d never been to, oceans she’d never visited. Phoenix possessed a strong case of wanderlust but she’d never been able to bring herself to go too far from her home and her friends.
Her major in art history also whisked her off to far off places without the need to go anywhere, and she never left the house without a sketchbook in her hand. She’d left her guitar at the sorority today, trading it in for charcoal and a notebook.
After making sure to glance at every type of creature she could find, she found her seat next to the isle of Jellyfish. So many different types, all of their colorings were different, their tentacles stretched out behind them. She opened her notebook and took her charcoal out of her back pocket, with a sigh of contentment, she let herself start to sketch. She started with the circle of the top, letting her fingers lightly trace after what she’d draw, smoking out the line a bit. Phoenix always got a bit messy when using charcoal as she used most of her fingers to smooth the lines she made.
Her hair fell into her face and she reached up to tuck a piece behind her ear, unaware that she’d left a black mark on her cheek from the stains on her hands. When she felt someone sit on the bench next to her, she cast them a glance. “Does this look at all realistic?” She asked, always the social butterfly.
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
“And yet you don’t sound surprised that someone might just stumble on back here,” Bennett said sarcastically. He knew that Delilah had an ability to keep herself out of trouble, to protect herself from rowdy patrons, but it was still his job to make sure all the girls were safe. And that included the ones who slipped out the back exit. The ones who had an uncanny ability to slip away from even the post persistent hands.
“They’re not supposed to be here, but neither are you.” He crossed his arms over his chest, biceps bulging from under his short sleeves. He made an intimidating figure to those looking to cause trouble, and that was usually enough. Not that he was trying to intimidate Delilah. He hadn’t yet seen the person who could do that.
it is another night in the lusty lady. wallets open deliberately as valentine smirks and flirts with her customers. she sees the thirst in their eyes and she lets them think that she will quench it. but she merely lets them savour a few drops, not enough to satisfy them, but enough to keep them coming back. valentine smiles and purrs, puts on a special show for those who fill her stockings with dollar bills. she lets them think that one day they just might buy her - all of her, not only the display of skin the lusty lady offers. she thinks it is sweet. she thinks letting them think that is her gift to them. and if it fills her pockets? better yet.
although amusing, it is physically draining and she is relieved upon her break. slender legs lead her to the back room and her sweet façade falls once she is out of reach of the cat calls. a sigh fall from her lips, her disposition completely different from the one seen on stage, for once out of it, she is delilah again. life has no bright lights and glory and excitement when you reach the backstage. it is one more day in the cycle of a routine that cannot bore her any more than it already does.
delilah slips in her robe, soft silk caressing silky skin. she cares not for modesty as she moves towards the back of the club for clean air. however, anyone that is to see her undressed should be paying for such privilege. the door creaks just so as she exits the club and she leans her back against it whilst retrieving a cigarette pack and a lighter from the pocket of her robe. smoke swirls in the cold air and delilah stares up, at the dirty night sky she can barely see in between the buildings.
the approach of a different creature doesn’t frighten her. her body doesn’t tense up even in a little bit and she barely steals a glance towards her new company. she knows that if they were to ever bother her, she can send them away with nothing more than a sentence.
“the entrance is the other way around,” she tells them.
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
“Needs to get a little bigger before he’ll make good bacon,” Bennett said in a deadpan voice.
What else did she expect when she was sticking the little morsel in his face? Bennett sniffed, inhaling the delectable scent. Even wallowing in its own shit, he could smell that it was some good stock.
“Good attention grabber, though. Nice way to get the ladies and the kids,” he commented, smirking at the farmer. “Looks like a good little one.”
When: Sometime in the morning
Where: The Farmers Market at Falls Park
Who: Open to anyone(with multiple responses allowed)
The quiet morning of the farmers market is interrupted by loud laughter coming from the small petting zoo in the corner. The farmer in charge of the booth didn’t get many visitors older then children but today a college age woman was leaned over the edge holding one of the baby pigs that kept trying to put it’s nose to her nose. Perle stood up straight holding the pig closely as the farmer instructed her how to properly hold the young animal. She was practically beaming as she held the young animal. She’d never gotten to hold a baby pig before or even seen a baby pig in real life before! This felt like the best possible outcome for her first trip to the farmers market and she’d been expecting it to be rather amazing to begin with! She turned towards the closest person, other then the farmer, holding the baby pig out
“Isn’t he the cutest thing you’ve ever seen? He’s so tiny!!”
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
“You want to dress up instead of down for a change?” Bennett asked when the woman turned her attention to him. She was clearly carrying on a conversation with a friend, but they appeared to have moved on. He had simply stopped for a moment, thinking he recognized the girl. It hit him when he saw the look of awe on her face, this time real instead of the pretend interest he had seen there before.
“I almost didn’t recognize you with your clothes on,” he commented, gesturing to what he knew was an amazing body underneath her layers. The corner of one of his lips pulled up into a half smirk, that paired with the amusement in his tone indicating he was teasing her.
WHEN: Anytime from October 8th - October 30th
WHERE: Anywhere in town where there is shopping
WHO: OPEN to all
“Look-” Ianthe ambled forward, her hands pressed to a glass window display featuring an array of Halloween costumes and decorations. Candy bags two for the price of one- “I like this Holiday.” She spoke gently as if she were in awe. They didn’t celebrate Halloween in the ocean, nor in the parts of Europe, that bordered her kingdom. Ghosts, vampyres, and the haunts that went bump in the night were all very new to her. Turning, expecting to see her friend Ianthe asked, “What are you going as for Halloween- I’ve got no idea what to dress as. I’ve never done it before…dressing up, I mean.”
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
“Well dressed like that, how are these horny, hormonal, sots supposed to know?” he asked, tone conversational, but low so only she could hear him. Didn’t want to insult the patrons after all. But really, what did she think was going to happen? And it wasn’t a case of ‘well what were you wearing at the time?’ that everyone these days was screaming about. She was a stripper, in a strip club. That’s all any of the people in here would see. They didn’t bother with asking her whether she was on the clock or not, just when she’d next be on a pole.
“Either go drink in the back, or put some clothes on,” he shrugged. “Unless you want to keep showing off, in which case you’ll have to put up with the attention too.” He raised his brows and let his gaze roam over her hot body. “And really, can you blame them?” Bennett raised dark eyes to hers, amusement and a hint of admiration in their depths.
It was late, and all the elegant brat wanted to do was go to bed. Her day had been longer than it should’ve been, a fight broke out early on in her shift, two of the girls got into fights over having the same boyfriend, all stupid shit that shouldn’t even interrupt Kamryn Tiamat’s time. She was above all of them, a higher level of being. The mortals fussed over the silliest things, she found. Never in her life could she imagine being that fussy over another being. Perhaps when she was extremely young, years upon years ago, when she was nothing but a shrimp in the ocean of meyrfolk. She got jealous, didn’t like to share her toys. She had since grown out of childish behavior, realizing monogamy would never grant her full access to the wealth and power she could genuinely achieve. A higher being, the woman viewed herself a whole unrelated creature to the mortal people that circled about, that lusted after her. Baffled her how she could have any connection to them. Such foul creatures, she found her only genuine interest in them stemmed purely from her curiosity, she would never want to welcome one fully into her life. But was she ever curious about them: since she was young she wondered about how their world worked, what made it go round why they were different.
Eventually, feeding the natural interest in them aided in boosting her ego. Mortal’s seemed to be drawn to her unearthly beauty, as she saw it. They lusted after her, but she was not of their world. She had the idea that she could have whoever she wanted whenever she wanted, and for the most part, she got what she wanted. Persistent, intelligent, gorgeous. A whole package, which is why people were drawn to her. Being the narcissist that she was, she took up a job at the Lusty Lady as a stripper. She enjoyed it, too. The actual situation pleased her, being watched, showing off as much and as dramatically as she wanted, and no one said a thing about it. So it was rare for her to have a bad day at work, but it was bound to happen eventually, is there anyone in the world who is always happy with their jobs, she wondered.
Despite being tired and having her job take a toll on her, she, for whatever reason, decided to stay for some drinks. So she hadn’t bothered to get her jacket, sitting in her bralette and shorts on the nearest bar stool. Upon being seated, she quickly ordered a shot of whiskey. She was planning on grabbing a cab anyways; it didn’t matter how much she drank. She didn’t get hangovers anyway. As soon as the tender laid it down in front of her, she lifted it and tossed it back into her mouth. The taste was not a pleasant one, and the burn that rubbed the inside of her throat left her with slight regret that she didn’t have something to soothe it. Water, even, would be alright. It was only after she was finished scowling at the taste did she notice someone coming up to sit beside her.
With a swift roll of her eyes, the creature twirled her fingers slowly for the tender to return, get her another shot of the sorts, apple pie, perhaps. “I’m off work for the night, can I help you?” People never took a hint, thought a stripper sitting to drink was still working, even if she wasn’t in her outfit anymore. It irritated her; she didn’t want to work anymore, she’d worked all damn day. She didn’t need anyone else bugging her for some ‘alone time.’
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
reliicta:
Valeria hated bars. They were loud, inhabited by gross men who liked to whistle at her as she walked by, and they smelled like sweat and vomit. If given a choice, she would’ve preferred to meet at a diner or somewhere that wasn’t utterly disgusting. But she was meant to be on a blind date, and therefore, she did not get to chose the location. She thought the whole thing was ridiculous anyway, the ideas of dates made her stomach turn. She genuinely had no interest in most of the people she made contact with; it was hard for someone to top the two that she’d already given her heart to. No man was as interesting as Justin, no man as handsome. No woman was as gentle with her as Selene, no woman as gorgeous. But she was continually being told how she needed to get out, and she knew she needed some fun in her life. Slowly she was falling into a spiral of not being a real person, fading into her work.
So she’d gone on a date anyway. She’d entered the bar and found it not to be a place she wanted to be at. So she was slowly trying to make her way to the bar, where she could sit and maybe get a drink if necessary. The guy she was to meet up with was supposed to meet her there anyway, and if he wasn’t already here, then she had time to prepare. IF he even showed. It wasn’t until a rough voice throwing crude remarks towards her that her attention got drawn anywhere else. Turning her body, the young woman crossed her arms beneath her bust, letting the chill of the skin on her arms bite into the exposed surface of her belly, oversized jacket pushed back slightly. “Excuse me?” The words are a hiss, the Wytch directing her eyes to a man who seemed the type that would live in a place like this.
Red painted lips were pulled down into a very unimpressed scowl. One glance over her shoulder proved the ‘view’ the man spoke of was a couple of pretty girls sitting and chatting. And if he had been more polite in his tone, she would’ve been more inclined to move and take a seat herself. They were far from hard on the eyes, and maybe if she didn’t cut it with her blind date, she might’ve been able to grab the attention of one of the many people in the bar. But now her mood was turned sour: there was not a thing in the world she hated more than men with foul attitudes, foul mouths. And yet, the one she loved was so very similar to those she hated.
“Perhaps if you put your eyeballs back in your head, you wouldn’t have to worry about people blocking the view of pretty girls sat at a different table. They’d likely be more inclined to come to talk to you then,” her words are a growl, meant to come across as the politest form of an insult. “But I suppose anyone who regulates a place like this is incapable of common decency.” Her eyes roll back into her head, and she fought the urge to turn around and walk back out the door. Instead, she turned on her heel and walked down the bar until she found a few empty spots, she removed the long jacket she wore and placed it over the back of the chair, smoothing the black skirt down before she put herself in the chair.
A moment later, she flagged down the bartender. “Whiskey, neat.” She hummed the words out. She wasn’t a drinker anymore, or at least, she wasn’t meant to be. But the moment the alcohol was before her, she was raising it to take a sip from it, letting the burn slide down her throat and quell the anger that began to bubble. Dangerous to let it get out of hand. She didn’t need to be mentally throwing things at the rude man in the corner - that would cause a ruckus, no doubt.
Oh but Bennett loved when they fought with him. A woman with fire, that’s what he liked, not a milk and honey girl with no backbone and the personality of Jello. With a smirk, he downed his drink, and this time it was him getting into someone else’s space.
He followed her, not sitting, but instead leaning against the bar, almost looming. He inhaled, taking in her scent. Even without his enhanced senses, he was able to tell that she was pissed, and he doubted it was just at him. Or maybe she was precisely that sensitive.
“I dunno that I’d drink that if I were you,” he said conversationally, his waist about level with her face. Bennett leaned down as if telling her a secret. “You just insulted his place of business and his patrons, loud enough for him to hear.”
Bennett straightened back up again, raising his eyebrows. Why come in here if she was just going to be rude about the place? Bennett at least knew better than to insult an establishment when his food or drink were in the hands of anyone else.
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
viknaerth:
“Interesting. Riddle me this then: what’s your dream job?” Vik’s dream job was to be at his betrothed side back in the ocean. Seemingly not much a job by the usual standard but it was an important role, most especially to him. Knowing that he was a support and had the ability to help his kingdom’s new matriarch.
Soft. Vik was very much soft, even by the rather ruthless meyr standard. He’d been adored for his aesthetics but his romantic heart and love of luxury had made him too considerate for the sea’s deadly waves. The claim he had to all things meyr had been snatched away from him and perhaps it was for the best that he didn’t idenfify with cruelty, his first momemtns lamenting the fact that he was stuck on land would have been a massacre. Instead, he rallied and recognised his position and tried to push himself towards a solution. “You paint a horrid picture, well played.” The disdain was fairly obvious on his face before a grin broke out, appreciating Bennett’s ability to turn his stomach.
“What did you do?” He wasn’t sure if Bennett would have any answers, but his drunken mind was hopeful. Perhaps questioning him would lend itself to Vik coming to understand how to cope with the situation he’d found himself in. “I’ve recently been visited. Someone I never thought I’d ever get to say another word to. Left on very questionable terms, you see. I’m not sure I’m the same person she thinks she knows.” That was the exact quandry; Vik was entirely changed. A shadow of who he once was he was nervous that he wouldn’t be a recognizable figure; for better or for worse.
“Dream job? Why the dream is not to work, Vik,” he snorted, putting his hands behind his head. Of course, that wasn’t entirely it. Bennett got bored easily and when he was bored, he was dangerous. Technically, he could probably afford not to work at this point; he had saved enough over the years. But with nothing to do...well he’d go looking for something to do.
“Naw, I like what I do well enough. Otherwise I wouldn’t keep doing it. I don’t put up with shit. Maybe you’ve noticed.” Bennett had pretty free reign at The Lusty Lady, probably because he was good at his job and didn’t mess around too much.
He chuckled, not unkindly. He took a perverse pleasure in bothering people, and that included grossing Vik out. He liked making them uncomfortable, making them squirm.
“I mean, every situation’s different,” he shrugged. “Depends on the way you left things. There are plenty of people in this world we think we’ll never see again.” And that was before one took into account Bennett’s extended lifespan. “Can make for some awkward encounters, that’s for sure. Anyway, no one is ever the same person they were before. You can’t have changed that much, though,” he laughed again, ruffling the blonde’s hair in the manner one would do to a pet.
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
llnnx:
* ╱ 𝖛𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖔 𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖔𝖝
●︎ when: september 25th, 2019 ●︎ where: the lusty lady, hill city ●︎ with: @bennettorsin
he thought of mingling with the rest of the patrons, steps idle and hesitant. he then figured this wasn’t the place for such. by far a traditional fellow, he never found much pleasure in paying to gawk at men or women and salivate over taking them home. he had previously teased the idea with tempting hands and nights where he experimented the extent of his sexuality. a smooth talker with the way his lips would curl into a devilish grin and invite this side of another world.
so with perverse minds, the rowdy crowd of fraternity brothers piled up against one another in a private booth with a wad of cash at their finger tips. they instantly began ordering the most expensive bottles provided and desired serves from two blondes they spotted coming in. valentino digested the night for a bit. lazily staring at the distractions before him, fingers rimming the glass of a freshly poured whiskey fill. yet he grew dangerously bored of the antics rapidly. his mates would nudge and tease him to counter mindless banter and though he’d crack a jest here and there, he sighed a breath of relief when he was able to silently excuse himself.
running a hand through his raven hair, sizing up how the night was going and who he’d have to deal with if they felt compelled to strike a conversation. the ray of colors from the many lights did make it difficult to spot a familiar face he reminded himself of, and he was about to head back to his gang of imbeciles, when out of the corner of his eyes he spotted the man. to which valentino made no shame in staring intently back at the man ‘till he was rewarded with an acknowledgment.. the signature grin he had wore the night they met returned tenfold, already taking strides to have round two of their rendezvous.
“ah, the final missing piece of the puzzle,” he stated the sly words so comfortably, changing the distant demeanor he held in the company of his brothers. he couldn’t help himself, intrigued by what the brute man had to offer him. seeing the other at this type of venue made him believe he was more than he appeared. more than muscles, and for that, valentino’s curiosity was at it’s peak. “now your whole persona makes perfect sense.”
Bennett sighed heavily, though the sound was lost in the noise of the club. Part of his job was dealing with unpleasant people; most of the time, though they weren’t personally unpleasant to Bennett. “I don’t even want to know what puzzle,” he grumbled when the other man got into earshot, not really caring whether he heard or not.
The bear didn’t move off the wall, and his arms stayed firmly crossed over his chest. He raised an eyebrow. “What persona?” Bennett was pretty much an open book. Sure he knew a little more in the language department than he let on, but that was about it, and that mostly to bug other people, and surprise them, see what they were talking about without him knowing. Otherwise, what you see is what you get. But of course a guy who thought Bennett needed help in the date--or rather fucking--department would think there was some great mystery.
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
challenge 001 ( tuesday, 1st - wednesday, 9th ) :
what are some of your favorite tropes? - 400 POINTS OKAY SO. Enemies to lovers. I live for the whole love-hate dynamic and people rejecting/denying their feelings and then falling into it. Also, Person A is grumpy, Person B is sunshine incarnate and they just work together. Hmmm, other tropes....Yeah, forbidden love, and making it work. Or not work. I like all the stuff that causes tension and angst and possible personal growth. On a not-relationship level, I like the reluctant hero trope as well. Also unusual friends. Or frenemies where they can insult their friends, but no one else can. Friends made families, and even yes, strong families in themselves.
do you have a favorite character you’ve written, in or outside of shiver? if so, what makes them your fave? - 550 POINTS Admitting to my nerd here, but I was in the Harry Potter fandom for a long time, and my favourite character that I wrote was Alastor “Mad Eye” Moody. I just find him such an interesting character, and in my mind he was misunderstood. I liked bringing him to life. I also wrote him before he was completely mad, but in such a way that I could see how it would progress down that route, and how he could get to where he was when we meet him in the books. I just love him a lot and have a lot of feels and motivations about him. I really enjoyed writing him. But I enjoy writing all my kids and have way too many feels about all of them, so there is that. I get very attached.
do you prefer writing with small casts of characters or large ones? what are some of the pros and cons? - 400 POINTS Honestly, it all depends on the dynamic. A small cast can be fun for getting to know people, but it also limits where things can go. It is good for when there is a set plot, and you need certain characters to get there. It is also good for getting to know people. A drawback to it, though is if one person is left out of things, that can create a problem. Additionally, with a limited and set small cast, there is no room for growth or more people. And if it’s the same people taking all the characters, that doesn’t leave things very open for creating new writing relationships. Big casts are fun because there is always something going on and someone to plot with. But it can be overwhelming to just jump into because there are so many characters, and established writing partners, and relationships already in place. Plus, the lore is already there, and there is just so much to keep track of. They are better for if people are not being as active though, because there should always be someone available or who has done replies. It also depends on whether you are just going around looking for groups, or whether you are starting one with friends. If it is just supposed to be a fun writing place for a few friends, a small cast is nice because you know what you are getting. If you are looking to get more into writing, and with different people, though, big casts can be the way to go.
what’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever done in the name of outlining/worldbuilding (timelines, research, maps, spreadsheets, etc.)? - 500 POINTS I have had family trees, and just pages and pages of copied conversations with multiple characters. Nothing super, super crazy, but, yeah just PAGES of things, and broken down into different sections. Write ups about different places, and then connecting it with different people... There may or may not have been colour coding involved. Timelines as well, both in game and for when things needed to be done by, and schedules of who is doing what when. But it’s so much easier than just guessing!
share the last paragraph you wrote you’re most proud of. - 650 POINTS Ahhhh I can’t find anything right now! It’s been a while. Someone help me change that! ha.
describe your current muse’s physical appearance using only one, over the top sentence. - 400 POINTS He was a man, but an animalistic one, rugged and handsome, hard planes and angles, with big hands that could take charge, or that could snap a neck, and eyes that flashed a warning, even as they dared you to come test him out.
if you had to write a novel about one of the characters in or outside of shiver, which character would you choose and why? - 600 POINTS Guys they are ALL SO AMAZING OKAY. Honestly, choosing skeletons to play is like choosing favourite children. Is it unoriginal though, to say that I would write about Bennett? Maybe. But I HC that he was born in the Canadian Wilds almost one hundred and eighty years ago, and with him being Native American, the challenges he had to face along with being a weyr. Also because he is just a terrible person, I’m sure there are plenty of exploits for a book. I could also write a book about the SUCCUBUS. I know she’s taken now, but having someone with Charmspeak? Just all the different possibilities. Basically they would be endless and you could go in a million different directions with a character like that.
2 notes
·
View notes