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kquil · 1 year

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POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS ⏤FIRST TATTOO

REQUEST. : I'd love to see the reader finally deciding to get something tattooed, something sentimental. All 6(soon to be 7) I have all have special meaning. 💖💖 —@twilightlover2007

G. : fluff ; modern au ; muggle au ; tattoo artist james ; tattoo artist sirius ; piercer remus ; comfort ; james comforts you ; the boys are soft for you ; you get your first tattoo ; you overcome your fear of needles

LENGTH : 1.6k

“Can you do it?” you ask as your nerves persuade you into fiddling with the hem of your long sleeved shirt.

“Of course we can, sweetheart,” Sirius reassures, pulling you into his side by the shoulders and giving you a comforting squeeze, “but are you sure you want it there?” he asks after pulling away to face you towards him and trace his thumb over your desired placement - just under your breasts and against your ribcage.

From beside Remus, James nods in agreement and holds onto your small sketch of the tattoo you want, “the ribcage is one of the most painful places to get a tattoo,” the statement makes you gulp nervously but James’s soft smile stops your nerves from going too crazy, “numbing cream will have to be your best friend, then,”

Smiling, you nod happily. You wanted to keep your tattoo hidden and just for yourself because it’s so meaningful; you didn’t want it in areas that could easily be seen so you were happy that you didn’t need to change the location.

“Just make sure that you apply the numbing cream on the area, at least, 45 minutes before your tattoo appointment,” Remus adds thoughtfully, “you want to make sure that it penetrates deep enough so that it does its job properly,” compliant, you nod and persuade them that you would make sure to do so, “good girl,” Remus smiles and a heat flourishes across your cheeks. Getting praised by Remus always felt extra special; your nerves were very sensitive to his compliments.

Sirius then steps beside James, places his arm around his friend’s shoulders and leans down to examine your sketch. It was a meaningful tattoo that you wanted and drew a sketch for so you felt quite bashful to have it examined so closely by someone like Sirius, who was quite eccentric and very particular about aesthetics.

“Quite the artist, aren’t you, doll?” Sirius commends as the two other men nod along, already having examined your sketch.

“It’s very cute,” James coos fondly.

“But we can tell it’s very important to you so you need to pick the right artist who you think will execute the work best,” Remus smirks as a visible spark of competitiveness appears in James and Sirius’s eyes.

It took a few days of thinking and chats but you concluded that James would be the best one to give you your first tattoo. Both Sirius and James were incredibly talented artists but James’s art style was one that you felt best suited your sketch.

Following your decision, James expressed his clear elation as Sirius pouted like a sulking child. Thankfully, Remus was there to cheer him up with some comforting pats to his shoulder. Seeing Sirius’s usually vivacious demeanour fizzle out into something more reserved made you feel some guilt but he didn’t let you dwell on the feeling for long.

“It’s alright, darling,” he whispers into your hair, his embrace warm and comforting and one that you happily reciprocate with an apologetic tightness, “I just wanted it so much to be me,”

“I’m sorry, Siri,”

“No worries,” he kisses your temple as he’s grown accustomed to doing, in order to comfort you, “I’m just being childish anyway, what matters most is that you’re happy with your first tattoo,” he pulls away to admire your sweet face and give you a reassuring smile, “it’s going to be on your skin forever, after all,”

It took a few sessions with James, where you helped him polish up the design of your tattoo, before you could set an official appointment to get your tattoo done. You didn’t know if the nerves you were feeling were of fear or excitement - sometimes the two different emotions felt the same. The confusion only made you freeze up in the doorway for longer. Remus had led you to where James was preparing the private room for your tattoo.

“Did you remember to put on the numbing cream we gave you?” Remus asks, his voice as soft and warm as the hand he had comfortingly placed on the curve of your hip.

“Y-yeah…” you breathe, leaning into the body of the tall brunette as you both stare at James sanitising the tattoo bed, he then proceeds to effortlessly set up some lighting apparatus before organising his tools and inks.

“James is going to take good care of you, dove, don’t worry,” Remus reassures, unprompted, “James, Sirius and I would never do anything to hurt you, you know that, right?” He looks down when you don’t respond and gently lifts your chin up with his fingers to meet his eyes, “it’s going to be okay,”

All you can muster for Remus is a timid smile before James calls you over to the tattoo bed. The tall brunette beside you, gives you one last smile before softly urging you forward with a hand on your lower back.

“There’s our angel,” James grins and pulls you into his arms, “are you ready for your first tattoo?” Your following silence is deafening but prompts James to begin petting the back of your head soothingly. There’s a noticeable shift in the way he holds you, where his touch becomes gentler and more careful. Rather than addressing your obvious rising anxiety of the situation, James directs your attention to his equipment. He slowly pulls you over to sit on his thigh as he sits in his tech chair, “Do you want to take a closer look at my equipment?” you don’t say anything but you offer your hands for him to place his tattoo needle on.

“It’s kinda heavy,” you mumble under your breath after subconsciously leaning into James’s figure. On his lap, you tuck your head under his chin and continue staring down and examining the tattoo equipment he entrusted to you.

“Yeah, it has to hold the ink and a small motor as well, that's why,” he explains, “it’s pretty cool right?” he asks softly and smiles when he feels you timidly nod against his neck, “it gives you one hell of an ache in your wrist though,” he jokes and feels the mood lighten when you giggle softly with him. He could squeeze you from how adorable you are in his arms but resists to patiently wait for you to calm down.

“...I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be,” he kisses the crown of your head and keeps his face pressed into your hair, taking in the smell of your delicious shampoo, “take all the time you need, angel,”

For several minutes, James carefully talks you through the equipment and the process he goes through when he does tattoos until you’re finally comfortable enough to lay down on the table and lift up your loose shirt.

“I think I’m ready now…” you whisper and give a brave smile as James leans down to press a kiss to your temple.

“I’m proud of you,” he whispers against your skin before he pulls away and pulls on a pair of latex gloves. He then proceeds to sanitise your skin before applying the printed stencil he created of the final design you guys worked on together. But then the door opens.

“You haven’t started yet?” Sirius asks, suddenly walking into the room as he takes off his black gloves and quickly disposes of them in a nearby bin, “how are you doing, sweetheart?” He pulls up a spare tech chair to sit by your head as James continues to go through the necessary prep before equipping his needle.

“I’m doing well,” you answer and Sirius smiles warmly at you, lovingly petting your hair, “James helped me calm down first so everything is a little delayed,”

“Did James take good care of you?” Your following nod and affirming hum is enough to persuade Sirius, who looks over at James, “He better continue doing a good job then,” his statement makes you smile and so does James’s following chuckle.

“No need to get overprotective pads, you know she’s in good hands,” James peels off the stencil and softly warns you that he’s about to begin. It isn’t until you nod before James starts tracing the stencil across your skin with his tattoo needle. A few moments go by where the small, running motor is the only sound that fills the room and you’re astounded by how well the numbing cream is working.

“Are you okay, sweets?” Sirius asks gently, his voice and concern is very comforting.

“Yeah, I don’t feel anything,” you giggle, the sound of which makes the two men smile.

“Good thing that your tattoo is simple and small, it’ll be over before you know it,” James comments and makes you breathe a sigh of relief.

Time quickly passes and, just like James said, it was soon over, leaving you to wonder why you had been so nervous in the first place. Like clockwork, James and Sirius cleaned and tidied up the equipment together before the latter of the two had to excuse himself to meet with a client about their design. It’s not soon after Sirius left with a kiss to your knuckles that Remus stepped into the room with a small complimentary tub of moisturiser for you to take home.

“It’s pretty,” Remus compliments when you finally lift up your shirt to show him the tattoo, “good job James, as usual,” James winks back at you two before Remus turns his full attention to you again, “and well done for overcoming your fear. That was very brave of you, dove,” his comment has you beaming and hugging the soft brunette around the waist.

“Thank you,”

A/N : this was such a sweet request, i hope i did it justice. sorry i took so long, i was overthinking it but just bit the bullet and just went for it. i also left the description of the tattoo vague so that anything you lovelies want to have as your first tattoo in this series, is completely up to you. enjoy the read my loves!

NAVI. | HEROES IN TATOOS SERIES

TAGLIST : @susyelectra @fangirlninja67 @pagesfalling @thepunisherfrankcastle @axeofwars @imarimon @justkiyomi @in-love-with-4-marauders @chicken-taco-burrito @valencia-rou @feast0nmeee @lestat-whore @hvmxjjk @twilightlover2007 @diaryofabiwoman @woohoney @celestialfantasiess @willbedecided @lovelyygirl8 @iiirhiane-g @ghostgardn @melinajenkins @astonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @sageskisses444 @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @neeezza101 @yrluvjane

#james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #marauders x reader #poly marauders x reader #poly marauders #marauders #marauders fic #sirius black #sirius black fic #sirius x reader #james potter #remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #the marauders #sirius orion black

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taintandviolent · 1 year

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deflowering ; James March x virgin!Reader

{requested by anonymous} summary: 7k words! after a little dancing, more than a little champagne, you decide to take James March up on his offer of going up to one of the new rooms of the Hotel Cortez, to break them in, as it were. Little does he know, he's about to break you in, too. w a r n i n g s: virgin!reader (adult), mentions of alcohol, rough sex, explicit descriptions, canon divergence, rough sex, thigh riding, cunnilingus, blowjobs, aggression, use of 'daddy', dom themes.

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / ♪ recommended playlist here! ♪

t a g l i s t : @kaismanwich / @redwoodghost / @elsamars / @silverzoomies / @kaissweetlamb / @thewolveswithin / @80strashbag / @twinkiemaximoff / @spill-the-t / @stucktothetwo / @evansb1tch / @enchanting-evan / @petersevans / @yesdevineruler / @enchanting-evan / @anonymous0316 / @eventually27 / @violetharmonscupcake/ @my-own-walker / @kai-slut / @evanpetersfansblog / @fuckedbykai / @iluwmycats / @nova-kayne67 / @dewberryobssesed / @the-goblin1 / @dirtyfairy97 / @jellyluvr / @strangerthings420 / @kai-anderson-whore / @piecesofcain / @lilthbunny

It was the twenty-third of August, 1926, and you had just finished your second glass of champagne in the Hotel Cortez. Usually, you never drank this much, but it was a celebration after all. Some fellow named James Patrick March had finally completed the arduous construction of his new hotel and tonight was the opening night. Crowds had flocked to the entrance, dressed to the nines and all eagerly craning their necks for a peek at the glamorous inside. Those who weren’t explicitly invited were turned away by the doorman in his starched uniform.

You, of course — you’d been invited by your friend’s friend’s friend and when you showed up in a beaded, green dress and the mink stole your mother had given you four birthdays ago, you waltzed right through those doors without a single question. You looked like you belonged here as much as the group of actresses that walked in before you. The moment you entered, the hotel stole a gasp from your lips, dazzling you with its prestige and innovation.

It had been toted as “an overly ambitious project” and you could certainly attest to that. Mr. March, whomever he was, had written a particular aesthetic into the design of his hotel and from the hexagonal patterned carpets to the ornately panelled gold walls, everything fit the opulent theme. The Blue Parrot Lounge was a name you’d heard whispered several times, waiters coming down the curved staircases with trays full of delicate champagne flutes. You learned shortly after that the bar was on the second floor and overlooked the entire hotel lobby.

But downstairs in that lobby, a band was set up, their instruments exhaling the liveliest melody you’d heard in ages. Easily, they persuaded the masses to kick their heels up. The grand chandelier above your head twinkled like your own personal galaxy, shimmering every time you moved. In fact, everything twinkled. You felt ebullient, as light as a cloud, and didn’t have a care in the world.

There had been a brief pause where Mr. March welcomed everyone to his Hotel in his dangerously cordial way, making a show of popping champagne. Everyone applauded, congratulated and then quickly dispersed, eager to return to the complementary libations. You’d eagerly taken to the dance floor and quickly found a partner in a jazzy white suit. He had blonde hair, sharp, chiseled features and deep green eyes - handsome enough. You two paired alright, enjoying each other’s lively moves.

He’d clearly been drinking more than you, judging by the way he slurred his compliments to you, dabbing nervously at the sheen of sweat that decorated his forehead. After an hour or so of dancing, your feet were sore and your curious nature had wrapped its tendrils around your throat, ordering you to investigate the rest of the hotel.

A server held another glittering tray of champagne high above everyone’s heads, and you snatched one as he passed you, hurriedly bringing it to your mouth. The effervescent liquid tickled the bow of your lips, the tiny bubbles popping as you sucked in a delicate mouthful. You dabbed at the corner of your mouth with your middle finger, trying not to gulp too loud.

As the song changed, the band racing into another upbeat melody, you swung your shoulder around, prepared to sink deeper into the hallways. Instead, you nearly collided with a broad shoulder. “Oooh! ‘Pardon me!”

“Mm.”

You recognised him right away. In the wicked and honest parts of your brain, you were thrilled that, of all people, you’d bumped into him. During his speech, all the women were staring with illicit gazes and hungry tongues. You’d mapped the direction of their eyes as they scanned along his face, and down his body as they openly and dissolutely lusted after him. The audible whispers that scattered the room when he cracked open the champagne, allowing the fizzy stream to spray into his mouth would’ve been laughable if you hadn’t been one of the whisperers.

He seemed slightly less personable now, almost curt in nature. Something about the dismissive way he’d flashed his brows at you as if he was annoyed sparked a fire in your curiosity. He was too handsome to let slip through your fingers, and surely, there must be a reason for his clipped response. You gulped down a mouthful and cleared your throat.

“Say, aren’t you Mr. March?” You asked coyly, knowing full well who he was.

He stopped then, like he’d been challenged to a duel, and with a slight bow, turned gracefully on his toes. To him, it was a challenge. You hadn’t run off with your tail between your legs, offended by his sternness, and that was a challenge for conversation, for flirtations and perhaps… indulging himself.

“Indeed I am. Enjoying yourself?” He eyed the half-empty glass in your tiny little hand, taking note that it clearly wasn’t your first.

“Oh, very much so. This is a ssswell party, Mr. March.”

“Splendid! And please,” He took your hand in his, pressing his lips against your knuckles. “Call me James.”

You cooed in acknowledgment, watching him from the rim of your glass. He lingered for a little too long and you would’ve bet your last penny that you saw his nostrils flare slightly as he inhaled a deep breath of your scent. After a moment, James straightened up, keeping a firm grip on your hand.

He had indeed; you were sweet, like a delicate pastry with the slightest hint of fruitiness underneath. There were notes of a perfume, floral, something moderately expensive — surely, something you’d saved up all your pocket change for. The way your eyes glimmered awoke a deep hunger within his core. He’d play with this.

“Tell me, my dear. Can you dance?” He asked.

The moment you said you could, he’d wrapped your slender arm around his forearm, holding onto it tightly as he towed you back towards the dance floor. Thank god your mother had insisted you learn how to dance properly. And thank heavens your friend, whom Mother detested, taught you how to dance improperly. Mother had always said these new trend dances were for immoral and loose women, but when James March insisted you dance the Charleston with him, you’d never been gladder for immorality in your life.

Keeping a tight hold on your hand, he swung you out into the clearing. With his fee hand, he made a quick gesture to the band. They responded by starting up the familiar melody, and James stepped to your side, lifting his brows in a silent confirmation that you were as ready as you looked. You gave him a short nod, and you both took one step backwards, beginning the shuffling motions.

His feet moved quick to the rhythm; behind and in front of each other, his heels kicking out to the side. All things considered, you made a worthy partner, keeping up with his lively, bobbing movements. Your hands were at your waist, fingers splayed out, swishing from side to side. You both leaned forward in unison and sent your right heels up into the air. The moment you straightened up again was when you realised that a small crowd had gathered in the lobby of the Hotel Cortez and all of their eyes were on the two of you. Everyone was watching as you two masterfully stepped the Charleston and you felt like a celebrity, a performer with the most handsome partner.

There was one woman in particular, a gorgeous brunette gal, who looked on with narrowed eyes. James stepped in front of your line of sight, flashing a villainously personable smile, and spun you back to his side. Though he wouldn’t dare voice it, the beginning twitches of an erection had his cock stirring in his pants. You were delectable and lively, something he’d take great pleasure in snatching away from you. All the more arousing that she hasn’t the slightest clue….

As the song ended, you couldn’t help but dissolve into a fit of giddy laughter, falling backwards into his chest. You couldn’t be sure, but as his arms enclosed around you, you thought you heard a syrupy laugh deep in his throat. Both of you were tuckered out, chests heaving, a misting of sweat covering your décolleté and his forehead. After a moment in his strong arms — ooooh, his arms — he brought a handkerchief from a pocket, dabbing his forehead gently. Modest applause peppered the crowd, along with a few glad compliments.

“I don’t mean offence by this, but…” You swallowed, wetting your throat. “I didn’t think you could dance like that!”

“I’m full of surprises.” He answered.

James swooped around you, circling you predatorily. His fingers ghosted over the back of your neck, sending a convulsive shiver down your spine.

You two locked eyes then, staring wordlessly. Both of you unable to ignore the need, the pulling draw, the hunger to touch each other. It was the sort of gaze that started rumours. His tongue scraped along the roof of his mouth, longing to taste the churning arousal between your legs. He knew it was there, told plainly by the way you fiddled with the hem of your neckline, nervously, trying to placate your own licentious thoughts.

“Beautiful hotel, really.” You finally whispered.

“Allow me to show you the best room in the house.” His eyes flashed to yours, sensing the apprehension. You rolled your shoulders inward, prepped to decline as politely as you could.

“Oh now, now… no need to be shy. I’m a gentleman first and foremost.”

“I don’t know if your lady friend will enjoy that…” You retorted.

“You are the only lady in my company.” He assured.

You gazed behind him one more time and met eyes with her — an action you’d immediately regretted. Her gaze was as comforting as a jail cell, and her full lips were pulled into a tight, frustrated line that held back a myriad of hatred. You opened your mouth to speak, but a forefinger was pressed hurriedly into your cupids bow, shushing you quickly. He looked down at you, brows furrowed in disapproval.

“Now, now. Shh. I’d hate to have to cut out your tongue, my dear. I had plans for it later.”

Your brows pulled together, eyes displaying nothing but sheer confusion. What on Earth did he mean by that? Either of those things? You were too afraid to broach the question, partly in fear that the answer would’ve frightened you, or worse, aroused you.

As though he read your mind, heard your innermost thoughts, he added quickly: “If you want to find out what… well, you’ll have to follow me first, my dear. Shall you?”

He extended his hand to you, palm up.

Against your better judgement and without thinking a second more about the repercussions, you took it and managed to squeak: “To the moon, James.”

When you glanced over his shoulder a final time, that woman watched you as he led you away, that tumultuous anger burning in her eyes. Something about her piercing gaze sent a shiver down your spine. She looked innocent enough, but underneath the done-up exterior, there was a cruelness, a hostility that you wanted nothing to do with. You hurried your steps, pinning yourself closer to James.

The journey took longer than you expected as every few moments, he was stopped by a hotel guest and congratulated. Everyone from stuffy elderly couples to actors you recognised from pictures all wanted to shake hands with the man that had created “the hotel of the century”. You hung on his arm, politely silent, offering agreeing nods and kind smiles when they’d look at you. They must’ve assumed, of course, that you two were an item, and for that brief, fleeting moment, you were thrilled by the idea.

Once he’d pushed open the door, allowing room for you to walk in, you realised that the room he’d led you into was the room he’d cracked the champagne in — except it had been expertly cleaned within a few hours. There were no crowds, no remnants, no sounds aside from a pair of breaths; yours and his. Although, if you listened hard enough, you thought you heard the dull, muted music from below. It sounded hazy and slower up here in this room.

The lock clicked into place and James had you in his arms, his face buried in your neck, his pencil-thin moustache tickling the sensitive flesh under your jaw. He whispered seductive words of veneration into the nape of your neck, praising your appearance between breaths and tastes of your salty flesh.

“Forgive my eagerness,” he whispered into your ear, before nipping at your skin. “I find you… irresistible.”

Delighted by the sensations, your lids fluttered. You extended your neck to him, allowing more. He kissed your neck over and over again and began sucking too hard in certain spots. You let out the tiniest little hums of discomfort, trying to stretch away from him then. However, somewhere deep in your core, you craved that pain, the burn of his suckling kisses.

“I want you to kiss me.” He declared, finally pulling away to gaze upon your face, like he was studying it. “Kiss me, but don’t hold back. I want to feel your passion.”

You nodded quickly, feigning all the courage in the world. Nervous? Who, me? Never! Your lips clashed together as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself as close to him as you could. His mouth parted, allowing his tongue out to swirl around yours, and you could taste the champagne that lingered on it like a fading memory. He deepened the kiss, moving further into your mouth and all you could do was moan into his. Silly girl, he must’ve thought.

His hand left your side, trailing further down. With a cruel tug, James yanked your stocking from its front clip, tearing a generous hole in the nylon, then repeated the process with the other. You broke the kiss to watch this fiery display of arousal in awe, feeling a new, unfamiliar fire in your stomach. You’d been aroused before — hell, even pleasured yourself shyly under the sheets… but the hunger. The hunger that clawed at your insides with reckless abandon was speaking in a foreign tongue… but it was one that you wanted to translate into physicality.

“Oooh, easy tiger…”

His fingers splayed out over your now bare thighs, exploring the smooth skin ravenously. As he neared your centre slit, he snarled in response — whether intentionally responding to the animalistic nickname you’d given him, or because he’d felt the slippery nectar dripping from between your legs, you couldn’t know. You thought it might be the latter. You hoped it was.

Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you to wobble forward with want. He made a beeline to the nearby alcohol cart that had been arranged near the door and poured amber liquid into one of the glasses and golden champagne into another. He brought the darker coloured one to his lips.

“Mmm…” He growled as he swallowed, locking eyes with you, walking confidently towards the nearby chair. Though his head was turned away from his destination, he didn’t stumble, just gracefully sunk down into the chaise lounge without spilling a drop of his precious liquor.

You were in awe of this man’s finesse, of his charm, and the adoration for him displayed all over your cheeks. You didn’t need to bring out your compact to know that the flush had travelled down your neck, and your pretty little doe-eyes were as wide as saucers. He set the glass of champagne down on a nearby end table, presumably where it would stay until you reached for it.

“What��s underneath that ravishing dress, hm?” He asked. You gathered your lips to one side in a coy expression.

“Let’s see,” you tittered. "My bra and my knickers. And…. A pair of torn stockings and shoes, if you’re a specifics kinda’ guy…” You knew he was.

He waited.

You raised your brows, cocking your head to the side in affirmation — that was all. You were a woman of style after all. In this outfit? You wouldn’t be caught dead in a corset or a slip. Besides, corsets were for stuffy old broads nowadays. Everyone was wearing bras.

“Take it all off. Everything but the dress.”

Surely, the dress would be the first thing to go? It was an odd request, even for your virgin experience. You’d heard stories of men and their covetous desires. The idea of keeping the biggest article of clothing on seemed unorthodox, but you weren’t about to question his demands.

Obediently, you bent down and undid the buckles of your shoes, stepping out of them carefully. With a shy bat of your lashes, you turned away from him, shimmying and shrugging out of the straps of your dress until they fell into the crooks of your arms. Reaching around behind your back, you unlatched the satin bra, letting your supple breasts spring free of the compression.

Your heart pounded as you bent down again to slide the satin underwear over the curve of your ass and down your equally satiny thighs, giving the man behind you the tiniest previews of what was to come. Facing him again, you held your dress at your chest, carefully sliding the straps back up your arms one by one.

With a drink in one hand, the other stretched over the back of the loveseat and a delightedly smug expression, James watched your undergarments fall to the floor piece by piece. His cock throbbed in his pants, the thick fabric doing a damned good job at keeping the beast at bay. Free of everything, your dress hung a little different now, and his black eyes were aflame with the realisation. You swayed back and forth, the strands of sequins brushing lightly against your thighs.

As you bent down one final time, reaching for the nylons, came his voice. “Leave those.”

After a small sip, he pat his thigh twice with his free hand; the sound of his palm snapping against the taut fabric atop his thigh echoed in the room. For a brief, insecure second, you were frozen. A deer in the headlights. Except the headlights weren’t headlights, they were the eyes of the hungriest tiger you’d ever seen and you’d already succumbed to your fate the moment he locked the door.

“Come to daddy.”

You shuddered in response, your tummy doing backflips like an acrobat in a circus act. His words held such command and purpose, you had no choice but to saunter over to him, swaying your hips a little more than you usually did. He seemed to enjoy that; a tiny smirk played out over his mouth.You pressed your knees against his, struggling to not come undone at the contact. With a deep breath, you manoeuvred yourself in between his parted legs.

“Good…” He replied. “Atop my thigh, my pet.”

With your flesh turning a deep shade of red, you walked over his thigh, resting one knee on the edge of the cushion. You felt the air on your cunt, the chill of the room touching the wetness and making it tingle. You looked down at his groin. The fabric was pulled taut. You could make out the faintest outline of a swelling cock underneath —

You snapped your attention back to him, embarrassed. He downed the rest of his drink, set it carelessly on the table next to your still-full champagne and lifted his hand to your legs. The pad of his middle finger caressed the back of your knee, sending a shockwave through your entire body. No man had ever touched you like that, the sensation was erotic and overwhelming to your core. Inch by inch, his fingers trailed higher.

You reached for the champagne, and despite the sting in your nose, you downed the entire glass, setting it back on the small table.

“Lower.” He commanded, amused.

You obeyed, bending your knees.

“Lower.” He repeated.

He’d lined it up perfectly; James pressed that same finger into your slit as you lowered, wiggling it further in, then flicking it up to your clit. You let out a shrill mewl. Your knees nearly buckled as he circled the bundle of nerves, bringing the sensitivity higher. You squeezed your eyes shut as hot, salty tears bit at the corners. Your muscles had begun to quiver, overwhelmed by the strain of hovering over his thigh. His skilful fingers manipulated your cunt, simply playing with your wetness.

James abruptly yanked you all the way down, forcing you into a straddle. Your cunt was spread, pressed tight against his thigh and you needed no instruction on what to do next.

“Ooooh,” he growled, watching your hips as they ground your weeping cunt against the expensive fabric of his suit pants. “Good girl. Your desire is intoxicating… show me how much you want me…. yes.”

James chuckled, knowingly. Despite your best effort in trying to suppress your moans, he saw through the act. The skin of your neck had flushed red. Your soft jaw hung slack, tiny little moans floating out every time he touched you. Your sweet little eyes rolled back into your head every time he so much as flexed his thigh muscle. He knew the effect he had on you. Every slight movement from him ground against your cunt, sending shuddering waves of heat into your core.

“I said,” he started, gripping your jaw hard between his thumb and pointer finger. “Show me how much you want it, my dear.”

You winced, but allowed instinct to kick in. You began bobbing up and down on his thigh, whimpering as the wet spot on the fabric spread. The slick glistened on the fibres as you ground back and forth. Eventually, the friction of dry against wet lessened, and you found a rhythm, bouncing. His leg bumped into your sensitive, aching clit over and over again.

As you rode his thigh, James gripped your dress at the shoulders, kissing up along the curves of your arm. There was a warmth on your skin, a tugging, though you were too deep in the sensations to pull away. A cacophony of ticking began; tiny beads scattered across the floor, bouncing and dancing into crevices where they’d never be found again.

When you finally glanced down, a look of shock painted across your features. Your dress had been ripped at the seams, the delicately beaded fabric now hanging limply at your hips in a mass. James looked on, adoringly, his hungry, inky eyes dancing over your exposed breasts, and the way your nipples had hardened in the slightly colder air.

“What’s wrong, my dear? Are you frightened?” He asked. The lilt in his question was too revealing, but alas, who was he to deny the delicious aroma of fear?

“Who me?” You laughed breathily, like a fool. Sweat pooled in the hollows of your collarbone. No time like the present, you thought. You’d reached the point of no return, and surely if you didn’t say something now, he’d find out when he took you. “Oh, no, it’s just that… I’ve never been with a man is all.”

The realisation swept across his face, the expression telling all the tales of how he felt about being the first man to have a woman. “Aaahhh…. And do you…. wish to be…?”

“With you?” You swatted the air dismissively. “More than anything.”

“Brave. Brave girl.” With that, he scooped you up in his strong arms, and got up from the chair. You wrapped your legs around his torso as he carried you effortlessly to the table. The journey was short, and before you knew it, your bare back was laid on cool wood. Your legs hung off the edge, and with one strong yank, James pulled the tattered dress from your hips, tossing it heedlessly behind him.

“Knees up — heels on the table.” He then ordered, sternly. Pulling your knees towards your chest, you adjusted yourself on the table and swallowed hard, feeling vulnerable. Short of hearing the snap of latex gloves, you were left feeling like you were about to be examined by a doctor.

James disappeared from your view then, sinking down below the edge of the table. With nothing to look at, you gazed up at the ceiling with wide eyes, anticipating the next move. When it came, you let out a yelp, your legs closing on either side of his head. James had pressed his lips against her, peppering little kisses against your centre, and after a moment or two of that, opened his mouth to slip his tongue deliberately along the folds. The sensation of his tongue darting out to taste you was enough to send you to the moon, but he continued, delving further into you. Your legs opened again, exposing more of your aching cunt to him.

You felt his nose press into the mound of flesh as he flattened his tongue on your clit, lapping at it hungrily. Your body responded by squirming, a desperate whimper pouring from your throat. His hands were suddenly on your pillowy thighs, holding you tight where you were. With a vibrating groan, his tongue abruptly changed techniques; he began flicking the tip of his tongue into the underside of your clit. Your moans - though they were teetering on the edge of screams — bounced off the walls of the empty room.

In a delirium of ecstasy, you’d gripped the hair at the crown of his head, pulling it hard. He grunted into your pussy, sending vibrations deep into your core. His hand came down on the side of your ass with a resounding slap. You shuddered violently, your sopping cunt clenching tight against his chin, wetting it as your first orgasm came in sudden waves. James slipped his tongue deep inside of your entrance, feeling the pulses as they gradually subsided. Before pulling away to look at the flower in front of him, and what he’d done to it, he let out a throaty, pleased growl. A small puddle had formed on the table, your slick arousal leaking from the hole like sweet nectar dripped from the centre of a fruit.

“Ahhh…” he exhaled. “Divine.”

His eyes darting to the side, James made a mental note to have Miss Evers re-polish the table. After this, it would certainly need it.

The way he gazed upon you, seemingly satisfied with just how wet you were drove your head into the table with a thunk. You arched your back with a whimper, somehow still unsatisfied. From the side, came his voice. “Use your words, my darling.”

Your eyes snapped open, startled that you hadn’t heard him move around. You swallowed, looking up at him piteously. For a moment you dug deep into your own mind, battling with coherency to find the correct words. And, disappointingly, all you could muster was: “I… want more.”

“Yes….. yes, you do.”

Gently, with two fingers, James pulled your jaw towards him, moving your head so that your cheek laid against the table. There was a certain predatory nature in his gaze as he looked at you. “Open up,” he demanded, his thumb prodding your lips. “That’s my girl…”

He smeared his thumb along your warm, strong tongue, depressing it and feeling around the rest of your mouth. He glided over your smooth teeth, digging the fleshy pad into the decently sharp points of your incisors.

“Don’t bite me… too hard.”

With that, he began unbuckling his trousers with one hand, sliding the belt from its loop. You watched intently as this handsome, charming stranger handled himself; taking himself out his undergarments and his trousers, roughly adjusting his cock so that it was free for your devouring. He closed his hand along the length, pumping it several times. A generous droplet of precum leaked from the red, sweating tip and before it had time to string away, he guided his cock to your mouth.

He smeared your lips over the head, coating it in his own dripping seed. His hips then bucked the length into your mouth, bringing a whimpering gag from deep within your throat. Gentle, he thought. With the way your mouth eagerly worked him, doing your best to suck and lap at his aching cock, that thought was whisked away seconds later.

Wet sounds filled the room as James fucked your pretty little mouth, your lipstick smearing waxy, blood-coloured streaks on the shaft of his cock. In your peripheral, it was quite a gruesome sight, but he seemed to enjoy it, tilting his head to watch.

You closed your lips around the tip as it slid out, letting your tongue flatten on the underside of it. You felt every throbbing vein, but every time your tongue or lips grazed that one, the protruding one, James making sounds that you’d only ever dreamed of hearing a man make. It was a breathy, higher pitched moan, or a choking gasp, and each time he did, the corners of your lips curled up into a smile, delighted with eroticism. You pressed your tongue hard into it, sliding it up and down. From this angle, you realised, you couldn’t do much else… but perhaps that’s how he’d wanted it.

You remembered his previous mention of biting, so thinking that it was something he favoured, you began toying with his sensitivity by grading your teeth along his shaft. He hissed, ceasing his thrusts to crane his neck back, revelling in the amalgam of pain and pleasure.

“Harder,” he demanded.

You furrowed your brows in concern, daunted by the new territory that lay ahead. You closed your mouth a little more, the ridges of your teeth gently clamping down on his swollen cock. Suddenly, James gripped your face hard, squeezing your cheeks together like a fish. You winced as he leaned forward to hiss in your open mouth, his demeanour suddenly callous and dreadful. “I said not too hard.”

He released it sharply as you did, and punishingly bucked his hips into your wanting mouth. His thrusts were quick, and marvelled at the tiny, pathetic gags that broke from your throat every time he hit the back of it. You were so delicate, but so… willing.

Suddenly, he pulled his cock from your lips with a sick, filthy slurping sound, and holding it in his right hand, moved back to the head of the table. His breaths were ragged, hungry. You blinked away the tears that had accumulated.

“You nearly ruined my makeup…” You whispered, wiping the slimy collection of drool and precum from your chin.

“I’ll do more than that.” Gripping you at the knees, James yanked you down the table’s length, your ass slipping easily against the polished wood.

Briefly, you felt the velvety hot tip of his cock teasing your cunt. He slid it between your wet folds, exhaling loudly at the slickness that greeted him. He teased you with a thrust of his hips, the tip of his head slipping slightly. You whined as he pulled away.

“What did I say about words?”

Like a toddler throwing a tantrum, you moaned shakily, gritting your teeth. “Don’t do that…”

“Do what?”

“Tease me…”

“Oh, but it’s fun. I’ll do so until you beg for it.”

“PLEASE!” You howled a moment later, taking fistfuls of his shirt and yanking him closer. You wiggled your hips at his groin, your cunt trying to find his cock desperately. You writhed around like a cat in heat, whimpering and leaking more cum onto his expensive mahogany table. In one of your hip sways, the hot tip brushed past your entrance, leaving a springy line of pre-cum in its path. In response, you rocked your hips against his, trying to pull him in further. The sensation had you gasping, rolling your head from side to side. “Please, please, please, I simply mu—

Your screams faded away into the back of his mind, dull and muted like they came from behind a brick wall. James watched your lewd, begging performance with a bemused smirk, chuckling through closed lips. Every anguished whimper, every desperate plea that his lack of action brought forward from your lips seemed to send you closer to the edge of madness. He enjoyed that. Too much, perhaps.

He reached up, running a single finger down the side of your neck, pausing to feel your pulse throbbing away beneath the skin. Such liveliness, such… James swallowed, suppressing the dark sludgy desire that clawed at his insides. His urges had been worse and worse lately, and now with the hotel open… Not now… not with her.

“What do I need to say?”

“Nothing more.” James took hold of his cock, stroking his fingers over the tip, dragging the slickness along his shaft. He exhaled, lining himself up. At first, James popped only the tip in and out, playing with his food. Each thrust, he slipped a little farther in. Out of the kindness of his heart, James was gradually getting you used to the feeling of fullness, but once he felt your slick walls, he grit his teeth. He had told you that he was a gentleman first and foremost, but… such is life. He swiftly sank his hard length into you with little friction. You were soaked and all it took was one determined thrust.

For a moment, you felt nothing but a searing pain as the thickness of his cock stretched your cunt wide open. Tears welled in your eyes, a cry bouncing against your rolled lips. The stinging was replaced with a dull ache, and finally, a warmth.

“My, my…” He admired. “Taking it so well already.”

You nodded feebly, doing your best to muster a smile amidst your punishing euphoria. Had you not been as wet as you were, it would’ve been excruciating. And when he started pounding, it almost was.

James must’ve sensed your discomfort because he brought his hand to your pussy, his thumb circling your clit. Mercilessly. You cried out like a wounded animal and that seemed to only drive him to continue, stroking his finger down length of your pussy before returning his attention back to the bundle of nerves. Your hips swayed back and forth on the table, desperately trying to get away from the pressure that was blossoming deep within your cunt, just above your bladder. It felt like a tangled mess of fire, and your whole centre was aflame.

You shakily lifted your head, watching as his pelvis smashed into yours, over and over again, his cock slipping easily from your aching, drenched cunt. Your hands climbed his torso. You fiddled with the buttons until his shirt hung open lifelessly, like two ghosts on either side of his body. He moaned as your fingertips explored his stomach, his ribcage, and then curled around the small of his back, forcing their way up underneath the restraint of his clothes. You felt uneven skin, the way that flesh raised once it had healed over deep lacerations.

James suddenly picked up speed, drilling into you harder and that released something in you. You felt devious, immoral, and wanted to howl like a banshee. In fact, you did. You let out a shrill, dirty moan, the kind you heard coming from those brothels as you passed them by. Tears pooled at the corners of your eyes before streaming down your temples, disappearing into the hair that laid on the table. Your fingers flexed, nails digging into his back and leaving crescent-moon shaped indentations amongst his scars. Feeling your clenching, he growled and lolled his head back in ecstasy.

You pulled your leg up, pressing your nylon-covered toe against his jawline and gave it a little push.

You heard his breath hitch.

You pushed harder, craning his neck off to the side. His moan said more than any words could’ve. With a devious smirk, you drug your toe down the length of his throat, pressing hard into his windpipe.

James jerked his hips harder and harder until you felt his cock twitch inside you, hot and angry, the first spurt of his orgasm planted deep inside you. He then backed his hips out slightly, just enough for the thick ropes of cum to cover your cunt. His cock bumped into your clit with tiny thrusts, forcing every last milky drop onto you. James straightened up, clenching his fists tightly.

“Ravished. Deflowered. Desecrated!” His words echoed loudly off the walls.

His arms came down with a loud thud on either side of your head, his shirt acting as blinders. There was nothing else in that moment; just you and him and the way he’d claimed you, taken every ounce of innocence you had left.

His hands traced along your collarbone, up the sides of your neck. The black thoughts wormed into his brain, screaming for sating attention. Which weapon would he use? Where he'd cut first - an artery? Arterial blood was always so… satisfying. Would her screams be as such? The final moment, the look in her eye? Perhaps, he could hear those desperate, soprano shrieks if he just…

Thunk-thunk-thunk.

Your lids peeled open, one by one. The blazing light that filtered in through the crack in the deep red curtains burned. You hardly remembered being in a hotel room… alone, and the hotel room you remembered wasn’t the one you were in now. This one looked more or less like any new hotel room that you could’t afford. Moving yourself into an upright position, you let out a depressed bleat… the headache. How much champagne did you have last night? You couldn’t remember.

Sleepily rubbing your eyes, you stumbled towards the door. “Just a minute!”

You were completely nude. That wouldn’t do to answer the door in. Panicked, you looked around the empty hotel room, considering the bed sheets for a moment. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a Praising the gods for the robe that had been hung on a hook by the door as you slipped your arms into it and hurriedly tied it round your waist. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of the framed photo near the door; your hair was a wreck, makeup smeared, and there were the faintest whispers of new bruises along your collarbone and neck.

The doorway was empty, as was the hallway.

Except for the box at the floor.

Despite giving a complete stranger your virginity last night, you had more sense than to bend down and open a foreign box. Clutching the robe at your chest, you began gingerly prying open the edge of it with your foot, wiggling your big toe underneath the fine cardboard until the lid popped off.

Inside, carefully arranged and wrapped in delicate pink tissue paper, laid a dress; a dress that was terribly similar to your own, but considerably more expensive. Atop it, a package of fine silk nylons. And atop those, in exquisitely elegant penmanship, a handwritten note lay. It read:

Thank you for a splendid evening, my dear. My deepest apologies about your dress — please accept this as a replacement. As for the flowers, it only seemed fair, considering the circumstances.

xoxo James P. March

You picked the box up, again checking the hallway to see if the deliverer was there. Still, empty. With a sigh, you shut the door, leaning against it. As you leaned there, holding the box in your arms, the corner of it digging into the middle of your neck, you winced at a sudden pang of soreness.

Your eyes drifted to the clock on the nightstand. “Nearly noon!? Oh, RATS!”

You pushed yourself off the door and changed hurriedly, throwing the robe off your shoulders and onto the floor. Mother! Mother would be furious and nothing was more terrifying than her rage. You’d rather be chopped up and filleted than have to deal with Mother’s anger, even as an adult. You pulled the nylons up as far as they could go without clips, and snatched the mink stole off the bed.

You threw open the heavy door and turned to your left, hoping for the best. You began running as quickly as you could down the lengthy hallway, barefoot. The straps of your shoes were hooked around your middle finger. With no markers, and no indication of where you were going, anxiety climbed your throat. Somehow though, after winding back and forth and up and down for what felt like hours, you managed to find the lobby.

As you emerged from the hallway, it was considerably less busy than last night. Where the band had been, waiting chairs and tables had been placed, a courtesy for guests waiting to check in. The cleaning team of the Hotel Cortez was marvellous, you had to admit. As you ducked your hips away from the edge of a chair, you spotted him. James March was leaned against the bar, chatting gayly with the bartender. The bartender nodded, swiping a rag over the spot directly in front of him. A glass of bourbon sat in front of James, perspiring. Much like you were. So it hadn’t all been a dream. He looked the same as he had last night, no hint of a hangover or fatigue. Just… charming. You inhaled and headed for the door.

“A perfect fit!” He called out from the balcony, his glass raised in a cheers. A few guests turned, searching for the voice. You jumped. The man had a talent for startling you — you’d give him that. You turned, your brows upturned in the middle, asking silently for clarification.

“The dress!”

“Oh! Yes! It does…. Thank you! It’s beautiful, Mr. March!”

“How’s your neck!?” He asked, lowering his head slightly.

The question threw you off. “….fine, but I really must be going, Mr. March! Bye!”

“Come back to the Hotel Cortez any time, my darling! As my guest.”

James watched you hurry out the door, knowing that if you did come back for a second time… it would be the last time.

#James Patrick March #James Patrick March x you #James Patrick March x reader #ahs smut #ahs fanfiction #AHS Hotel #james march x reader #myfics

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fluffykitty149 · 3 months

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@empressgeekt heard you’ve been feeling down and thought you could use a pick me up! I honestly just wrote this for fun and wasn’t going to show it to anyone, but it’s the FoF + Caught In The Middle mash up I asked you about a while ago! Had a serious brain rot about it so I ended up making this snippet!

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The wedding ceremony was going great. It never ceased to amaze Branch of the fact that his girlfriend was able to concoct an amazing party regardless of size. She may have struggled with taking charge and staying organized for defense in the past but it’s become abundantly clear that she was and is in fact a master planner. They’d gone back and forth on whether or not Branch should wear his Forest Guardian uniform at the wedding as Branch believed since he’s head of the trolls' security he needs to be ready and Poppy argued that he should dress for the occasion but both Gristle and Bridget assured them that it was okay. It probably helped that Gristle was wearing a T-Shirt tux instead of an actual one. Poppy later confessed that she just wanted to see Branch decked out in a tuz and after a bit of blushing and some persuading kisses he agreed to maybe switch to one for the reception.

As the officiant went on with her speech a forest scout signaled for Branch to come over. Branch lightly brushed his arm against Poppy’s and when she turned to him he signaled that he had to check something out and Poppy nodded in acknowledgement and scanned the rooftops herself before looking back to the bride and groom. Once Branch checked that Keith was still in the wedding rings with his blue tuft of hair sticking out he followed the scout to the other side of the reception. “What’s the situation?” Branch asked as he and the scout climbed up a building.

“Tresillo caught some trolls sneaking around,” the pop troll answered as they continued to climb. “3 presumably male, 1 presumably female. Pop trolls like us but I haven’t seen them before.”

That caught Branch off guard. Sure he didn’t really know everyone in the village but most of the tribe recognized each other easily. The scout continued “the female one appears to be having some sort of PTSD episode? Kinda like you used to have, she’s convinced we’re all in danger right now from the Burgens. We’ve tried explaining the Burgens don’t eat us under the decree of King Gristle and if she had concerns about a particular Burgen or group she was suspicious of but it’s more like she doesn’t know about the peace that we have now.”

Branch winced at the memories of his thankfully now rare episodes before he finally scaled the wall and found where the other trolls were “go back to your post. I’ll take it from here.” The troll took a final look at the group before they nodded and walked off. As Branch got closer he could hear the group talking animatedly and the familiarity of the male trolls’ voices made a pit drop in his stomach. ‘There’s no way that’s them,’ he said to himself in denial, as he slowed down.

“Come on man we’re Brozone! Can’t you help us out?” That was definitely JD’s voice. Turns out Branch didn’t miss it nearly as much as he thought he did.

Branch cleared his throat and the guards surrounding the group backed off and Branch was able to get a full view of three out of his four brothers. Spruce had gotten bigger and seemed to be sporting a more beach aesthetic with his hair styled down in a sweep, Clay’s hair was green instead of yellow and curled out and was much taller than Branch remembered sporting a sweater romper. He seemed to at the time be arguing with Wani who had some of her members standing by a pink troll with one of them showing her breathing techniques. JD switched out the boyband vest and pants for a more nature-like vest lined with fur and worn green shorts. Still the same stupid goggles though. And same stupid grin.

“Would someone from your group mind explaining what’s going on here?” Branch asked in an authoritative tone. It annoyingly didn’t seem to phase his oldest Brother.

“Hey man, sorry to bother you with… whatever is going on here.” JD gestured with his hands. “We haven’t been around the tree in a while and we’re trying to look for our siblings.”

Branch’s crossed arms helped hide his hands squeezing his biceps. ‘A while would be the understatment of the mother fucking century’ he thought to himself.

“Would you mind explaining who you’re looking for specifically?'' Was it a good idea to pretend he didn’t know them? Probably not. DId he care at the moment? Nope.

“We’re looking for Bitty B man! From Brozone!” Thank god Branch was wearing a mask because the deadly glare he was shooting right now would be beyond suspicious.

“I don’t know of anyone named Bitty B that lives in the village. Are you sure this sibling of yours isn't’ somewhere else?” Branch asked curtly. If JD could at the very least say Branch’s actual name he might consider telling him the truth.

“Psh come on man, who wouldn’t know Bitty B! He’s Brozone!”

Branch drummed his fingers against his arm “again, there’s no one here named Bitty B now if you’re just here to cause a scene at a wedding that helps signal the peace between pop trolls and Bergens then I’ll have to ask you to lea-”

Before he could finish, a pink and blond blur zipped up to him and shook him by the collar “WHERE IS MY SISTER, WHAT DO YOU MEAN PEACE WITH THE BERGENS, AND WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!?”

The other scouts turned to him warily but he didn’t flinch. “Would you mind telling me your sister’s name? We can start from there.”

The woman looked bewildered at him “SERIOUSLY!? I’M TALKING ABOUT POPPY!!! DAUGHTER OF KING PEPPY!!! THAT POPPY!!!”

Now it was Branch’s turn to look bewildered “Poppy? As in the current queen?”

Viva’s face dropped but then was brought back up “Yes! Yes her! Is she okay!? She’s not in danger is she?”

Branch’s heart seemed to be going back and forth between panicking and sinking. “No, no,” he said gently as he removed her arms away from him “she’s why we have peace with the Bergens. You’re her older sister?”

Viva’s fear turned to excitement and Branch’s heart sank furhter “Oh my gosh she did this! No way I am so freakin proud of her!” the way she bounced in excitement reminded him painfully of Poppy. ‘Peppy what did you do?’ he thought to himself while watching her stim and cheer.

“Poppy’s busy with the ceremony right now, would you mind me grabbing your dad?” Viva’s face shifted between distraught to hopefulness and it made Branch’s heart squeeze tighter.

“Dad’s alive?” she asks wiping a tear.

Branch nodded “I’ll just be a moment. We have multiple guards and scouts stationed on the rooftops on the venue. Even if there was a chance of a Bergen wanting to eat a troll we have contingencies in place.” He leapt off the roof of the building onto another and ran back to the reception.

Anger began to burn in his body that fueled him to run faster to the venue. He made it to where the group is and slipped in to grab Peppy’s arm. “You’re needed on the rooftop. It’s urgent.” Peppy barely had enough time to respond before Branch picked him up with his hair and ran off. The rest of the snack pack and Prince D looked somewhat baffled but turned back to the ceremony.

It probably wasn’t professional for Branch to be running on all fours but focusing on going fast took his mind off of the interaction that was about to happen. One of the perks of traning with Smidge was that his hair was much stronger and could easily hold Peppy well enough not to hurt him as he scaled the wall. He fired a grapling gun up to help him climb with a still bewildered Peppy in his hair. “Branch?! Is everything alrgiht?”

“Not really,” he huffed making his way up. “You have a lot of explaining to do.” Still on all fours he managed to make his way to the rooftop where Viva and his brothers were. It was definitely a tough sprint but he skidded to a stop and carefully put Peppy down. As angry as he was at the man he wasn’t going to throw him around like a rag doll.

Peppy stumbled for a second and was about to ask again what was going on when he heard a small “Dad?”

He whirled around and saw the daughter he hasn’t seen in over 20 years. “V-Viva?” he whispered shakily stumbling towards her.

“Daddy!” she cried out jumping to hug him. Branch almost stepped in incase of a fall but Peppy let his cane drop and colleceted his daughter in his arms.

“Oh my sweet sweet girl,” he whispered holding her tightly. “I never thought I’d see you again.” he kissed her over and over again on her head stroking her curls.

“The tunnels-” he stuttred as he pulled he away to get a better look at her. “W-we dug for hours, all we found in the ruins was your hug time bracelet. I-I thought you-” he sobbed as he pulled her tighter again.

“I’m alive,” Viva chuckled breathlessly. “I got everyone out, it was tough but we found this old golf course to stay in! I should have gone looking for you guys I kept waiting for you to find us and I had no idea you thought we didn’t make it!” Viva sobbed as she burried her face in his neck.

“No sweetheart, it was my fault. I never should have stopped trying to look for you.” Peppy sighed as he rubbed her back.

Branch cleared his throat and Peppy’s face turned pale. “Poppy doesn’t know about her does she?” he whispered. He hated being the bearer of bad news but it was clear what had happened. Trolls got separated during the escape and King Peppy lied about it. ‘No troll left behind’ was a total scam. A scam Poppy believed with her whole heart. It made Branch’s blood boil.

“What?”

Branch and Peppy turned back to Viva who’s face had completely dropped with her body becoming stiff. “What do you mean Poppy doesn’t know about me? I’m her sister! Of course she’d know who I am. Right?” She turned to her dad who looked completely guilty.

“I-I didn’t want her to mourn you.” Peppy mumbled fidgeting with the lapels of her jacket.

“Were there others with you who escaped?” Branch asked but Viva remained mute in shock.

It was Clay who spoke up “there were 36 all together. With new kids we now have 40 as a group.” he said seemingly also in shock.

“Branch is everything okay? We’re supposed to be heading to the reception now.” Everyone’s head swiveled to Poppy who carried Keith on her hip.

“Cake time!” Keith shouted with raised fists and a blank stare. Everyone stared at the duo for what felt like ages before turning to Branch and bouncing back and fourth between them.

“BRANCH!?” “POPPY!” “HOLY SHIT!”

Viva rushed to hug little sister while the brothers crowded Branch asking a million questions at once.

“YOU’RE ALIVE!?”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY WHO YOU WERE!?” “WHAT’S WITH THE OUTFIT!?”

“YOU KNOCKED UP VIVA’S SISTER!?”

“WHAT!?” Branch, Poppy, and Viva shrieked as Viva grabbed her sister tighter as she turned to Branch.

“Keith’s adopted!” Poppy said, as she tried to catch up to speed. She then turned to Viva “Hi I’m Poppy, nice to meet you. Who are you exactly?” Viva looked heartbroken while Peppy looked guiltier than ever.

“WHO THE FUCK GAVE YOU THE AUDACITY TO PRESUME ANYTHING ABOUT ME!?” Branch shouted angrily as he shoved his brothers off of him.

“TOO LOUD!” Keith screamed as he clammed his ears shut with his hands.

Branch tensed with guilt before turning back to his biological brothers. “I took Keith in about two years ago when his dad died and we see each other as each other’s brothers.” he said with an indignant huff. He then turned to Poppy. “Peppy apparently hid the fact that there were trolls left behind during the escape. Viva, your older sister gathered as many stragglers as she could and kept them hidden.” He paused to monitor Poppy’s reaction before he continued. “I’m so sorry Poppy I swear I didn’t know.”

Poppy’s grip on Keith loosened so he slid down and ran to Branch. “W-what?” She turned to her father in shocked betrayal.

“I was going to tell you I swear!” Peppy stammered. “After the rock apocalypse I realized it was wrong of me to try and hide the truth from you. You got so busy for a while so I figured I would tell you after the wedding in the tree.”

“I have a sister?” Poppy whispered as she turned back to Viva.

Viva gave a small wave “hi Poppy,” she said as she nervously fidgeted with her hands.

“HOLY SPRINKLES I HAVE AN OLDER SISTER!!!” Poppy cheered as she scouped Viva up and spun her around. “MUSES I KNEW I FELT SOMETHING LIKE THAT!!! I WAS DRIVING EVERYONE CRAZY WITH ‘GOD I WISH I HAD A SISTER’ OR’ HAVING A SISTER WOULD LITERALLY MAKE MY LIFE SO PERFECT’ AND YOU WERE HERE THE WHOLE TIME!!!”

Viva burst into tears and wrapped Poppy in a hug of equal force. “I am,” she sobbed in Poppy’s shoulder “I’m right here!”

Both sisters tried getting a good analysis of each other’s appearance but got too excited and with another squeal tackled each other in spinning hugs and jumps.

Branch picked up Keith to check on him and thankfully now that the arguing stopped he’s seemed to calm down. “We’re not getting Bergen sized cake are we?” Keith said with a pout. “We can ask Bridget and Gristle to save us a slice.” Branch chuckled.

“Branch, is that really you?” Spruce asked which soured Branch’s mood.

He hissed between his teeth before turning back towards his brothers. “Yes it’s me. This is Keith, he’s my little brother and if any of you say anything negative about him I’ll throw you off the building.”

The ex-brozone members turned to Keith in different forms of bewilderment but JD was the one who snapped out of it the fastest. “Welcome to the family bro!” he was about to hug both Branch and Keith. Keith lunged to bite JD but Branch managed to hold him back.

The brozone brothers remained stunned while Branch brought Keith back to him “I think we’d both appreciate not being hugged if its all the same to you.” he huffed as he readjusted Keith on his hip.

JD chuckled nervously and brushed dust off him “heh, got it. My bad.”

“Why were you asking all those questions if you knew we were looking for you? It was just wasting time.” Clay asked, already tired from the journey.

“Excuse me if I’m not jumping for joy that the brothers that abandoned me at 2 randomly showed up. What the hell are you all doing here anyways?”

The brothers looked grief stricken for a second and before Clay could explain things JD blurted out “we’re here to reunite the band and pull off the perfect family harmony!” he cheered with a fist pumped in the air. Bruce smacked a paw against his face and Clay dragged his paws against his.

"No thanks, I'd rather choke on rocks than go through that again." The only reason Branch hadn't lost his temper was the fact Keith was still with him and he'd rather not go on a screaming vent in front of him. "Good to know you assholes are alive but you can crawl back from wherever you came from and never contact me again if you wouldn't mind." Branch turned his back to his ex-brothers and headed to where the Royal family was to help them figure out how to transport and shelter the other trolls that got left behind.

Before he could walk far Clay jogged to get in front of him. “Look, we’re here because Floyd needs to be broken out of a diamond bottle. Some wanna be super stars kept him trapped in one to drain him of his talent. We got him out of Mt. Rageous where he was but we need to get him out of the bottle too. I am really sorry our reunion was shit and that our oldest brother has what I can only infer is foot-in-mouth syndrome-"

"hey!"

"But we're going to need all of us if this is going to work."

Branch stood still as he processed everything Clay had said while Keith hopped down to listen in on the Royal family's family issues. "Would you guys have bothered to come back if it wasn't for the harmony?" He muttered with fallen arms.

The other two brothers had caught up by now and heard what Branch had said. "Branch, I did come back." JD said walking towards them. Branch whirled around in shock and even the other two looked surprised. JD wasn't paying attention to them though, he only stared at Branch. "I came back a couple of years later and found the tree dead and abandoned. I spent ages trying to track you guys down but couldn't find a trace of anyone. With all that added up I wasn't sure if any of you were..." he sniffed and wiped his nose.

None of the other brothers knew what to say to that.

JD noticed all eyes on him and forced back on a smile. "But you're all alive!" he said relief evident in his voice. He ran to hug Branch and while Branch remained completely limp in the hug he didn't push JD off him either. It was the first time Branch noticed his Brother's colors were a bit duller than they were when he was younger. He cursed not being able to properly see out of one eye.

He managed to get JD off of him "so you want us to try and perform the perfect family harmony, something we messed up so badly you all didn't want to be a family anymore, to save Floyd from being in a trapped bottle?"

"That is verbatim why we are here yes." John said confidently. Clay and Bruce gave each other a look before gauging for Branch's reaction.

Before he could respond Poppy slammed into him with a hug. "BRANCH I HAVE A SISTER!" she cheered with a shake.

"Congratulations Poppy, I really hope your relationship with her is less of a train wreck than the one I have with my brothers."

"Hey!" Branch's brothers responded indignantly

"You're fine Keith."

Keith nodded satisfied and climbed back into Branch's hair.

"Oh my gosh I am so sorry I was totally busy with other stuff!" Poppy said turning to Branch's bio brothers. "Hi I'm Poppy, Branch's girlfriend so nice to meet you all! I had no idea Branch had brothers!" She zipped to each of the brothers analyzing their clothes, mannerisms, hair, teeth, expressions, everything.

"Oh yeah, definitely Viva's sister." Clay chuckled.

Poppy turned to him instantly "you really think that!?" she squealed and hugged him. Then instantly jumped off "sorry boundaries! Branch isn't much of a hugger."

"I am!" JD cheered and Poppy instantly jumped to hug him.

"Ooh! Ooh! I want a Branch's girlfriend hug!" Bruce exclaimed with a laugh. Poppy rushed to squeeze him too.

"Okay great everyone's had a Poppy hug now can we-"

"Wait a second," Poppy interrupted further analyzing JD "I know you! You're that guy from Brozone! We were just listening to them!"

By this time some of the snack pack had also made their way up to the roof building. "Brozone? I love Brozone!" Cooper cheered.

"Was Brozone that boy band you showed me last week? Their music is tight!" Prince D responded.

'fuck my life' Branch thought to himself as he watched the scene unfold.

"Okay, okay, let me guess, you're definitely not the heart throb,"

"What?" JD asked bewildered by Poppy's statement. CLay and Bruce snickered in the background.

"Fun one? No you're way too uptight."

"Uptight?" JD asked now seemingly shocked as Clay and Bruce wheezed in the background. Even Branch couldn't fight back a grin on his face.

"Not the sensitive one either..." Clay and Bruce struggled to hold back their laughter.

"Okay, a lot of presumptions for someone you'd just met." JD said now a bit offended.

Poppy tapped her foot on the ground "Oh I remember! You're John Dory!"

"The leader!"

"The old one!"

Bruce and Clay laughed shamelessly on the ground completely fallen over and even Branch couldn't hold back his snickers. JD rolled his eyes at their antics. "Put food on the table and this is what you get." he grumbled as he fixed his vest. Bruce gave a somewhat apologetic smile but Clay was beyond happy with the interaction. "Branch your girl is a keeper" Clay said as he wiped a tear away.

"So wait if you're Brozone and Brozone were Branch's bros..." the memories of old magazines started to click into place as Poppy turned to her boyfriend with a loud gasp. She remembered how much brighter his original colors were when he's in an extremely joyful mood. "BRANCH!? YOU WERE BITTY B!? HOW COME YOU NEVER TOLD ME?!"

Branch was about to defend himself when Keith spoke up "Branch's brothers left him when he was two so he doesn't like them anymore." That brought the mood down instantly.

"Ooohhhhhh that explains so much about Branch's personality." Cooper said quietly

"Oh and the gift swap." Prince D commented.

"Oh yeah! Oh my god it makes so much more sense!" Cooper cheered

"Wait what happened during the gift swap?" Guy asked as Tiny climbed down to see everything.

"Branch blew up his bunker." Tiny commented as he took some popcorn.

"WHAT!?" his bio brothers asked as their heads whipped towards him.

"Yeah, he was convinced that if he didn't get Poppy the perfect gift she'd leave him. He even had a little doodle of Poppy holding a suitcase saying 'goodbye forever!' on it. It was sad man." Cooper said with a shake of his head.

Clay inhaled sharply through his teeth, and it made Branch's head turn to his brother's reactions. Clay had pained expression, Bruce looked at Branch with pure pity, and JD looked at him in grief stricken horror.

Branch struggled for what to say to them. His right arm was locked and twitched nervously as he struggled with something to say or just think. He could only try to keep his breathing steady as everyone's eye's were on him. There was a small tug on his hair that reminded him that Keith was still there and it kept him grounded.

"Branch, you okay?" Poppy asked as she made her way towards him. He focused on her to avoid the stares around him and it helped him calm down.

"Fine," he said exhausted from this terrible reunion. "There's 40 trolls all together. 36 that were with Viva and four who hatched on the course. We should probably start figuring out how to transport and shelter them."

"And contact their families," Poppy said with an excited grin. Her upper teeth stuck out a bit and Branch couldn't help but adore her beautiful smile. "We can head back to the village for now. Viva said something about one of your brothers being in a diamond bottle?" Poppy asked with a curious eyebrow raised.

"Apparently so. There's more than just Bergens out to get us." The crowed grew a bit tense at that. It had only been 20 years since they escaped and it barely passed the one year of peace. The fact there were more creatures out there was terrifying for all of them.

"I'll talk to King Gristle about keeping an eye out for Rageons. Did anyone here get a proper view of them?" Poppy asked.

"I kinda drew what they looked like," Clay said as he pulled a folded piece of paper out of his hair. "I gave a copy to one of the guys at the course."

Poppy took the drawing from Clay. "Awww they look so cute though." Poppy cooed.

"Theyre about as tall as the average Bergen though, that's way less cute." Clay commented.

"Oooohh look at my fabulous little sister taking charge!" Viva said as she slide over to where Poppy was. Poppy immideatly jumped to a hug that Viva was more than glad to reciprocate.

"Awww thanks Vivs! I'm just gonna hand this to Gristle and- OH GOD I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT THE WEDDING!" Poppy shouted as she smashed her paws against her cheeks. "Sprinkles they could be waiting for us! God I'm the worst Maid of Honor ever! I need to go ASAP!" Poppy picked up her skirt to run but Viva grabbed her by the arm and stopped her.

"WAIT YOU CAN'T GO!" Viva exclaimed terrified.

Poppy raised an eyebrow "Why not? I'm the Maid of Honor if I'm not there I can't help if there's a disaster and then Bridget's wedding will be ruined and It'll be all my fault and I-"

"Easy Poppy!" Guy said as he took her hands "We told Bridget that there was a situation and to go on without us, if things seem fine you, Branch, and your families can head back to the Village." He then straightened up and hammered a fist to his chest. "As life of the party I solemnly swear to make sure that this wedding after party is at maximum level fun for all!" Epic music played in the background.

Poppy stared in an awed daze for a moment before going back to a nervous twitch "ugh! I'd never doubt your party skills Guy, but I feel like such a let down as a maid of honor! I should be there for Bridget every step of the way! I'm like a 'maid of not honor'!" She exclaimed as she dragged her paws down her face.

Branch hated the amount of stress Poppy was under "I'm sure Bridget would understand." He said as he gently took Poppy's shoulder. "Just give her a quick run down of the situation and ask King Gristle to have his guards keep an eye out. Then while I deal with my brothers mess, we can also check on our defenses and notify the other tribes about the Mt. Rageouns."

"Yeah, you're right, we should definitely give the other tribes a heads up," Poppy mumbled as she tugged on her lower lip. "Alright fine," she sighed. "It's not every day you find out you have a long lost sister, I'm sure Bridget would understand." Poppy then turned to Viva "I do really need to go see her and give her and her husband- still can't believe they got married!" Poppy squealed excitedly "a 411 and we can totally catch each other up when she gets back from her honeymoon but I can't leave without saying goodbye!" She pleaded, as much as she loved Viva she'd rather not be forced to stay on the rooftop any longer.

"I- You can't just-" Viva fidgeted with her rubber hands antsily. She wasn't trying to make her sister feel bad, or piss off any Bergens for that matter. But the thought of Poppy with those beasts terrified her.

Almost as if she could read Viva's mind, Poppy took her hands in hers "I promise, those two are some of the sweetest Bergens I've ever met." Poppy said encouragingly. "Bridget was willing to risk her neck to save us, and I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for her. And Gristle has been working hard to not only fix relations between us and help protect us, but also keep his subjects super happy!" Poppy cheered which jostled Viva a bit.

"It's okay if you're still uncomfortable around them, not every troll in the Village came to the wedding you know? I just gotta explain things to Bridget and Gristle. You can come if you want!" Poppy then tuned excited. "You'd love Bridget, she's such a sweet heart! And trust me Gristle is totally chill!"

"Poppy nearly took out his eye when she tried pitching holidays to him," Branch commented mirthfully "he was still willing to help decorate for the holidays and even helped trim the troll tree. If Poppy could get away with that I think you'll be fine."

"What?" Viva asked with a shocked laugh.

"Ugh! Come on Gristle brings it up less than you do at this point!" Poppy pouted and kicked a nonexistent pebble. Her faux upsetness melted away when she heard Viva laugh a bit more freely.

"Okay, how about I keep an eye from a distance? That way if for whatever reason they do decide to eat you I can grab you and dash." Viva asked as she pulled out her sticky hands.

"Okay 1. Those look so cool please teach me how to use them later, and 2. I totally respect you gotta do what you gotta do to keep calm but if it helps Branch has a bunch of his guards stationed all around. It's how you guys didn't get all that far remember?"

Viva drummed her fingers in thought "that's a good point... but I think I'll keep an eye out just incase okay?"

Poppy shrugged her shoulders "no problem! Oh my gosh I have got to introduce you to Bridget I swear you're gonna love her!" She took her sister's hand to run to where the reception was. "Branch try not to kill your bio brothers while we're gone!" Poppy shouted as she and Viva ran over rooftops.

"No promises!" Branch waved back.

#broppy #trolls branch #trolls poppy #dreamworks trolls #trolls #trolls keith #trolls viva #trolls john dory #trolls jd #trolls clay #trolls bruce #tbt #trolls band together #fof au #Caught in the middle au #Fic inspired by other fic and au #fic snippet

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terrence-silver · 9 months

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Would Terry be a cat person or a dog person?

---

I mean, just aesthetically speaking alone, I can see why everyone widely imagines Terry Silver as a cat person. (Bond villain with a fuzzy, white Angora on his lap, smoothing her thick, elegant fur while he plots World Domination) but on the other hand, it is even more easy to envision him as a dog person purely because he admires the animal's innate natural devotion that tends to override all sense; something few or no people are capable of ever replicating to the degree an animal with animal instincts could, except maybe himself. Yep. Terry Silver knows nobody who has the loyalty of a hound except himself and he both relates to the animal and in odd ways, perhaps, resents the animal, because a dog holds up a mirror to him and says 'This is you.' and the experience of that is visceral, baffling and exposing, seeing as how Terry is genuinely pushing back deadlines, schedules and leaving everything behind as he happily and willingly goes performing extreme (and often ethically questionable) acts of service for those he deems his, but at the same time, the fact that someone as power hungry, ego driven and control oriented as himself enjoys being unscrupulously devoted to select few others to the degree he does is a baffling thing to say the least. It is contradictive. Shouldn't be a thing. Yet it is.

Man probably never owned a dog.

Doesn't intend to. Doesn't want to.

Chances are he cares for cats just as little in the practical sense.

But, he sees a dog snarling, barking, fighting off entire gangs of bigger dogs, following its human wherever it goes, snuggling up to him to keep him warm and dying next to its owner when it could've easily left and minded its own survival, maybe somewhere out on Skid Row or the more run down parts of LA through where Terry has his driver intentionally chauffeur his limousine to flex on the poor when he feels particularly sadistic and meanspirited, only to catch the image of a skinny, malnourished hound starving next to its homeless master out on the pavement; the image of which is something Terry loathes to see, going as far as possibly mocking it to his driver to cover up his true feelings on the matter with a whole lot of judgement and bravado, because fuck sake, he'd do the exact same thing too. The words For everything you need, your whole life, always immediately come to mind and Terry might think that if John Kreese was a sick, abandoned dog dying on the street and there was no chance to ever save him or persuade him to allow himself to be helped, senselessly proud as he is, Terry might go out there and die next to him too. Here he is, having everything in the world and envying a homeless man's loyal, skinny dog.

Terry forces himself not to think about that.

Yet how can he not when it is the foundation of his entire being?

#cobra husbands #terry silver #john kreese #dogs #cats #animals #pets #dog #character analysis #cobra kai #kk3

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kimium · 5 months

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Based on our conversation the other day, because I love hearing what things you love, please list and describe your top 5 favourite moments in Twisted Wonderland so far (from the main plot or side events💜)

I am so excited to answer this, friend! I loved having our conversation together earlier this week as I am always ready to discuss Twisted Wonderland.

To clarify to everyone: I only play on the English server so I will only talk about those events. I'm also going to stick to the main story/events. Vignettes are an entirely separate list.

Also, spoilers for Twisted Wonderland!

My Top Five Favourite Moments in Twisted Wonderland

5. Leona being "volun-told" to help - Fairy Tale Gala

We start this list with an event story! Fairy Tale Gala is one of my favourite events, mostly due to aesthetic and story. Leona is also one of my favourite housewardens! So, naturally, this scene had to end up on my list!

What makes this scene so memorable to me is not just the humour of the situation. Of course, one aspect of Twisted Wonderland that is endlessly funny is how the housewardens (minus Kalim) don't jump to help others. This is especially funny in the Fairy Tale Gala as Leona is "volun-told" that he's the one picked to walk on the runway. I loved his grumpiness upon realizing that he has to go through with the plan.

4. How Yuu persuades Leona to help - Book 3

Another Leona centred scene! I love Yuu, post Leona's overblot, deciding "Yes, I'm not scared of Leona. Yes, this means I'm going to be the biggest, loudest nuisance possible until he agrees to help" is priceless. It also WORKS?? I can't even imagine what the rest of the dorm was thinking. They're recovering from Leona's overblot and now this? I bet everyone's relief that Leona agreed to help was palpable the following day. Though, Leona is a bit of a tsundere, so he was bound to help out anyways ahaha.

3. Rook delivering Vil's moisturizer/lotions - Book 6

I want everyone to know that this encompasses the entire set-up to the punchline of the joke which is "Rook flies halfway across the world to STYX, trespasses, and is nearly killed on sight all to give Vil his moisturizer/lotions." What adds to this punchline is Idia's entire reaction. The sheer humour of Rook going "Oh no, I'm not here to break my housewarden (boyfriend) out of STYX." and proceeds to reveal the truth of his visit? That's comedic gold.

Of course, Vil ends up using it to escape which Rook obviously knew he'd do. However, Rook left the breaking out to Vil and sincerely only came to give the product to Vil.

2. Yuu crashing into Octavinelle - Book 4

I love this scene because it's a stroke of luck/coincidence that Yuu gets Octavinelle involved. There is something about a character desperate for help only to receive it from their prior enemies that makes me happy. Especially when no one expects it. Easily, one of my favourite tropes. I know eventually all dorms help, but Octavinelle is one of the more antagonistic dorms in their book. That makes their decision to help Yuu out all the better for me.

Yuu finding out "Tsunotarou's" identity - Book 5

One of my all-time favourite trope is a dramatic identity reveal. I live for them, especially when the reveal happens in a moment of crisis. So, by far my most favourite scene in Twisted Wonderland is when Yuu finally learns the identity of Malleus.

As someone who loves Malleus, I was waiting with anticipation to how Yuu would discover the truth. Especially when I knew Malleus would arrive to watch the dance competition. The story did not disappoint me. The other's reactions to Yuu casually calling The Crown Prince to Briar Valley "Tsunotarou" lives rent free in my mind. I have replayed that scene multiple times and every time it makes me happy.

And there you have it, friend! I hope you enjoyed my list! I await your own list of top five favourite scenes from Twisted Wonderland! Please, let us know!

#personal #replies #twisted wonderland #my favourite scenes

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cozy-autumn-moth · 1 year

Text

So after having a thought about Pahkitew Island I’ve decided that it’s a flawed season and that maybe if people like this I’ll write a sort of rewrite/fanfiction of it. This post will be my ideas for what the rewritten characters would be like. So…I hope people like this

Beardo

-Is very introverted and has a hard time making friends.

-Makes videos on social media doing beatbox covers to songs he likes though he isn’t noticed much.

-Works as a DJ for parties. Is really good but he doesn’t feel like he’s doing enough.

-Before knowing he was joining Total Drama he originally thought he was going to be the DJ for some rich dude and took the job as a chance of notoriety.

-Craves friendship and notoriety more than anything and the one thing he plans on accomplishing while on the show is to make at least one friend.

Leonard

-Leonard loves LARPing! It’s essentially become a special interest for him and though he knows the whole thing isn’t real he still tries immersing himself in that fantasy aesthetic.

-Is kinda annoying at times but means no harm, he just really badly wants to talk about his hobby.

-Originally signed up for some sort of show regarding LARPing but was instead brought to Total Drama.

-Though it wasn’t in his plans he still tries to prove himself in the game, despite the fact he’s pretty terrible at physical activity…especially to the caliber Total Drama provides.

Rodney

-A farm boy who's the oldest of five younger brothers in a decently strict family with two pretty decently old parents.

-His family isn’t the richest at all and thus being the oldest and strongest he was usually tasked with all the heavy lifting and taking care of everyone.

-Is homeschooled by his parents and generally pretty isolated. That being said, while he isn’t an outcast he’s very bad with communicating, especially towards people he likes romantically.

-Rodney gains crushes on people easily, and while he doesn’t pursue them it’s obvious he’s crushing hard.

-Was trying to find ways to make money quick so he was one of the few people who knew he was going on Total Drama because he auditioned for it straight up unlike the rest of the cast.

Amy and Sammy

-These two are identical twins whose relationship is highly strained. Amy is the older twin Sammy is younger by a couple of minutes.

-Amy is the twin who is much better with sports, fashion, and other physical bodily things.

-Sammy is the twin who is far better with music, drawing, and general abstract things, though her talents are far less recognized compared to Amy’s.

-The two usually don’t talk and have never really interacted much outside of arguments.

-Both girls really wanted to go to camps but their mom just put them in one camp together that did both of the things they wanted. This later came up to be a secret application for Total Drama that both didn’t know about until they got there.

Ella

-Ella is a very sweet and nice girl who has found a passion in music.

-She’s had a rough life for these past 16 years so she’s found that singing has made the hard times a lot sweeter.

-She really idealizes this princess lifestyle where she’ll be able to achieve a happily ever after.

-She’s basically replaced her brain with her heart. She doesn’t usually think things completely logically as she wants to do what makes her happy. Thus her emotions are really potent.

-Wanted to practice singing and wanted to go to a camp for it. Was sent to Total Drama instead.

Topher

-Topher is a guy who has idolized Chris McLean and other famous celebrities and show hosts for…basically most of his life. Thus he’s tried replicating this charm since he was young.

-He’s a great public speaker and persuader in general. Though he never uses this skill for anything productive other than to have people do what he wants.

-He’s never had to work for anything in his life. He usually just has other people do it on the count of his good looks and persuasive speaking.

-Despite that he’s actually quite envious of other celebrities and is really entitled. Believing the world be served to him on a platter.

-Parents forced him into a club for public speaking against his will. Though instead he got to go somewhere much better.

Dave

-Dave is a self described normal kind person. He is not a normal kind person as he believes. He’s not necessarily a horrible person, just very insensitive and actively neglects to think before acting.

-He also comes off as a faux hipster of sorts as he usually feels he’s super intellectual and smart when he’s really just kinda trying too hard.

-He isn’t adverse to apologizing or proving when he’s wrong, but that’s only when literally everyone is dogging him.

-He is a minor germaphobe and refuses to get dirty.

-He thought that going on some sort of retreat would be a good sort of a detox from the people in his everyday life. Turns out he was being put on Total Drama.

Max

-Max was profusely bullied for a long time in his life and at a certain point decided enough was truly enough. Thus he started to become far more aggressive and seemingly threatening, it’s not working.

-He isn’t a bad kid at all, he just doesn’t like to be pushed around by people and thus isolates himself to seem more mysterious, threatening, and evil then he actually is.

-He’s good with children and has a lot of hobbies that he doesn’t tell people out of fear of being judged.

-Highly uncooperative and very averse to niceness. Secretly really wants it and to be admired.

-He was trying to go to a science camp to try and learn some different things that can be seen as cool and badass. He was instead sent to Total Drama.

Scarlett

-Scarlett in nature is highly unemotional, pragmatic, and highly dangerous.

-Scarlett is very smart, almost to the point of being considered a child prodigy, though people just mistake it and think it’s plain introversion it’s actually something deeper.

-She’s very bad at expressing herself along with her needs. She’ll do lots of unnecessary things to get her point across.

-She has never been tested for anything do to her parents not wanting the stigma of what they considered a messed up child, this makes her an enigma to most everyone.

-After a major issue back home her parents tried sending her to a camp for mental health to get her treated in, she was instead brought to Total Drama.

Jasmine

-Jasmine is a natural born leader who is skilled within the field of survival and nature.

-She has issues regarding femininity due to being strong and having more masculine interests than other girls her age.

-She’s generally been described as a mom friend by many, she embraces that and tries to help people out as best as she can.

-Wanted to join a survival show to test her skills. She kinda got that on accident but it was way more than she expected.

Sugar

-Sugar is a girl who despite her looks and appearance, is smart and quite conniving.

-She lives in an environment where everyone is adept at lying and playing an act. It’s very hard to know when she’s being genuine.

-The only things that she makes known of her real self is her repulsive habits and general country heritage. Other than that her personality can change from nasty to sweet on a dime.

-Sugar was trying to search for more opportunities in the spotlight. She signed up for a pageant show but instead was put into Total Drama.

Sky

-Sky is a girl with only one dream, and that’s to eventually become a future Olympian.

-She only lives with her sister, after an accident regarding her parents. Her sister is an Olympian and she usually likes to train with her and she looks up to her more than anything.

-She’s generally seen as over ambitious a lot of the time and she pushes herself to limits even she can’t reach sometimes. But she sees that if she doesn’t push herself she can’t accomplish her dreams.

-She tried to join a camp that’d help enhance her skills, instead it was Total Drama.

Shawn

-Shawn has major and irrational anxieties about most things for a very unknown reason.

-After watching Total Drama once before and seeing Ezekiel in a feral state once he’s begun to think that zombies are real and he’s going to die. He’s also believed many other things like end of the world hoaxes, lizard people, and other weird conspiracy theories. None beat the zombie thought though.

-He’s learned to not trust people out of fear they’ll become zombies themselves, it’s very unhealthy.

-Shawn was convinced by a very fake zombie survival camp ad and was stocked to learn more knowledge to survive the apocalypse. He was instead taken to Total Drama.

#total drama pahkitew island #total drama #total drama shawn #total drama sky #total drama sugar #total drama jasmine #total drama max #total drama scarlett #total drama dave #total drama topher #total drama ella #total drama sammy #total drama rodney #total drama amy #total drama leonard #total drama beardo #total drama rewrite #total drama fanfiction

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rules-of-the-zodiac · 5 months

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Isn't the interpretation of the 12 sign (zodiac sign) strange?

lt may be difficult to read because it is through translation, but please read to the end.

I have looked at various websites, but why is Libra interpreted as a highly cooperative and indecisive sign that adjusts and mediates with others and surroundings, even though it is not a mutable sign? Perhaps it's interpreted that way because of the Ruler's image, but it seems to me that you're trying too hard to conform to the "Ruler's image" and that's why you're losing your "logical consistency"

Shouldn't the interpretation follow the combination of "elements" and "modality" before giving priority to the image of the Ruler? I think the image of "peace, harmony and beauty" that Libra represents is fundamentally different from the above characteristics.

For example, air signs are Objective Logic, thinking, intelligence, ideas, words, information Communication, sociability, sharing Instability

If Libra is a cardinal sign, it should have a more intense personality.

If you think in terms of elements and modality, Libra is about making people accept "logic and ideas", or in other words, "rules, commitments, and rules", which results in peace and harmony. I think that Libra is a "rule, a contract, a rule" that leads to peace and harmony. Libra's "sociability" and "communication" are considered to be more clear-cut and calm in debate. Libra's aesthetics are interpreted on various sites as being more artistic and fashionable, but this is too much of a "Taurus" thing. I think Libra is more "conceptual" than "sensual", and rather perceives beauty in "logical correctness" and "orderliness and fairness". Libra is not particularly "indecisive", nor is it "easily influenced by its surroundings", nor does it "cooperate to avoid conflict" I think this is a "Gemini" or "Pisces" trait (see ELEMENT and MODALITY). Libra has all the things in it that should have been a "Taurus" or "Gemini" or "Pisces" trait. If you want to connect it to the ruler's image, you can do this I'm going to write an example of an air sign as a comparison

Gemini learns from its surroundings and gathers knowledge and information by cooperating and communicating with its surroundings. Gemini's "thinking power" is used to adapt and learn from its surroundings Gemini is indecisive and has a hard time communicating clearly and decisively.

Libra uses thinking skills to think logically, make decisions, and generate ideas. They are good at debating and are good at persuading people and getting their opinions across. "Peace and harmony" is achieved by making others accept Libra's "right ideas They find beauty in conceptual "fairness and orderliness. Not good at accepting "ambiguity" or "shutting up"

Aquarius is associated with "change" and "updates." They are good at improving or rearranging something. They are not "individualistic" or "stubborn." They are not good at establishing "individuality," which is a Leo trait. They are not "stubborn" because they are air signs to begin with. Easily aware of the nature of information, easily bored, and unable to stick to it. I prefer an equal "exchange of ideas" without the compulsion of a Libra.

I think it will be like that.

There is one more thing I find strange. I think there is another strange thing about Gemini's "duality. It seems that there are many websites that use the keyword "duality" to make something that is clearly not a Gemini trait into a Gemini trait.

Gemini is bright, sociable, and good at communicating, but its dual nature makes it dark, nervous, and sensitive.

I think such "vague" interpretations are meaningless because everyone has "duality" to begin with. Isn't Gemini's "duality" due to its resourcefulness to adapt to its surroundings? If there is such a "dark and sensitive" side, wouldn't there be a water sign in the Moon, Mercury, Venus, etc.? or you should consider Moon or Neptune aspects, etc.!

I still think we should think about "ELEMENT" and "MODALITY" before the rulers! Ignoring this will lead to an interpretation without "logical consistency". Is it really "correct" to interpret the image according to the Ruler's image?

#astrology #zodiac #zodiac signs #horoscope #libra #gemini #aquarius #air signs

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roses-bah-garden · 2 months

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hiiii, can i request a jecka fictive from class of 09 if thats alright :3 level 5. I Don’t have any specific ideas in mine

hi! there wasn't a lot of info out there for jecka, and i don't know this source, so hopefully this was alright :)

a new flower has blossomed! 🌹

jecka (class of 09) fictive ... [LVL 5 PACK]

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name(s) ;; jecka, jessica, hilton, emily, hayleigh

pronouns ;; she/her

age ;; 16

species ;; human

gender(s) ;; cis girl

orientation(s) ;; sapphic

role(s) ;; hygienist, caretaker

source ;; class of '09

sign-off(s) ;; ~💋, JECKA!!, 💋🏷

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appearance ;; 5'6" with a thin frame and large bust. long blonde hair and amber eyes. soft facial features exaggerated by makeup. 2000s department store clothes mixed with mcbling style. see below for picture.

personality ;; dramatic and sassy. she likes making new friends, but to others, seems like a tough nut to crack. easily persuaded, and lacking in intelligence.

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likes ;; fashion, makeup, mcbling aesthetic, dieting foods

dislikes ;; looking/feeling fat, unpopular people, when people don't like her [might have people pleasing tendencies as a result]

possible front triggers ;; styling the body

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cisid(s) ;; cispopular, cistraumatized, cisschoolshootingwitness, cisED, cisbimbo

transid(s) ;; transgyaru, permasmiling, transtraumaless, permaprotectedbody, sunscreenscentian, perma2000s

kink/fetish/para(s) ;; hoplophilia

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moodboard ;; found here

playlist ;; "joyride" - kesha / "raise your glass" - p!nk / "apple" - charlixcx / "baby got back" - sir mix-a-lot / "toxic" - britney spears

kinlist ;; julie powers (scott pilgrim takes off) / lindsay (total drama) / musume ronshaku (yandere simulator)

bonus info ;; n/a

#build an alter #build a headmate #alter packs #headmate packs #radqueer #rq safe #rq 🌈🍓#endo safe #pro endo #🌹 a new flower 🌹#lvl 5 pack #🌹 planted an ask 🌹

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tozettastone · 6 months

Text

I've been chewing on this Astarion/Player Character relationship dynamic that exists in my head a little

(but I'm sorry to inform you that I named her 'Uggie' at character creation)

Basically I had every intention of writing a whole thing but right now it's just this bit followed by two totally disjointed scenes. Maybe I'll be back to work on it when some external work is done.

---

Uggie relented eventually, as Astarion had known she must.

She was the kind of person who could be easily persuaded as to the advantages of sitting perfectly still under a tree and focusing on '''inner balance''' for seven hours without even a break to piss, but who could not be tempted out to a party for love or money.

While Astarion liked to think of himself as a manipulator of the highest order, he also knew that he had exactly one, totally foolproof, silver-bullet fallback tactic, and he used it now to convince his dear... darling... much beloved... something-or-other to come out with him.

He took his clothes off and just kind of assumed that all Uggie's grey matter would leak out her ears and he'd be able to persuade her to do anything he wanted while he was getting dressed again.

Like he said. Foolproof.

"Of course you don't have to come, darling," he said, pulling his shirt off like it was a prerequisite for digging through his wardrobe in his windowless bedroom. "Although you're welcome. I just need to borrow your eyes while I get ready."

"I don't have your aesthetic taste," she said, watching him throw his extremely expensive clothing around and then strip, fast and businesslike about it. She was standing, touching nothing, in his bedroom, arms crossed, leaning all her weight upon one hip. Her face was cynical. "You might not like what I think looks good."

Uggie's eyes were one of her best features, if you asked Astarion (nobody had). Their burning orange was striking, although it could attract unwelcome attention from... erm, really anyone who'd ever met a Lolth-sworn drow before.

Right now, those eyes were hot on his bare skin. All according to plan, then.

"Unless you've developed a mystical technique to make me visible in the mirror within the last five minutes, your aesthetic sensibilities — defective or otherwise — will have to do. Sit, I won't be a moment."

"What is this... event, again?" she wondered, perching on the edge of his bed. It was huge and dramatic, made up all in black with costly gold embroidery. There were wispy black curtains that veiled its edges. Even when they were drawn, they hid little.

He and Uggie were both mostly nocturnal creatures, and certainly occasional bedmates, but the unmitigated luxury of an enormous featherbed all for himself had been too great a temptation for Astarion to resist. Besides, the sprawling house they shared in the upper town was four storeys high and big enough that they could have slept in a different room every night for a year without repeating one.

Astarion had entered the housing fight on the side of hedonism, and he'd fought dirty, as he always did. Uggie wouldn't have even had a house, if the paperwork had proven too hard. And it would have, to her. She'd have given up when faced with the need to hire a conveyancer and gone to live naked in the woods or something.

Instead, they had the house. And he spent the spoils of their many dangerous and filthy adventures on dramatic clothes and sumptuous furnishings and fine wine that he could barely even stomach. Uggie never complained. In material terms, she was a simple thing: she wanted a warm spot to curl up in like a cat, and good food to give her friends when they each fetched up from their disparate corners of Feyrun. Everything else, he could manage with whatever degree of extravagance suited him.

"It's a soiree," he pronounced it with a sharp and mocking edge, quoting, "to celebrate the end of the Lady Rosamond's third marriage." The invitation said it was for her friends to enjoy the talents of a local acrobatic troupe — an intimate little party of, oh, forty or so. She was already on the hunt for spouse number four, it seemed. Or else perhaps a fling for the season. Who could say.

"Charming," murmured Uggie. She sounded cynical but she was watching him wiggle into his new trousers very intently.

The leather trousers were so tight that if Astarion's body composition had changed by a kilogram, he'd have had to take them back to the tailor. He'd be the first to admit that vampirism did come with a few tiny little advantages. Not many. But some.

"Do you need help with that?" Uggie wondered. "...Cornflour, perhaps?"

"No, thank you," he assured her primly. But she bit her lip, and he watched it from the corner of his eye. How gratifying. "Do you think the red shirt, or the white?"

"I'm partial to the white. You're dressing to impress, I see," she mused.

Of course she was partial to the white one.

The white shirt was the wrong choice, objectively. His entire body was the white of sun-bleached bones, and the pale shirt would only make him look more pallid than ever. But he well knew how exotic that still seemed to her — a fully grown elf, pale like an etoliated plant struggling in the Underdark.

She liked it when he looked... vulnerable.

Astarion threw the red shirt back in the closet and went with the wrong choice. He wasn't above indulging her. And he didn't look bad in white. He had it on really excellent authority that he didn't look bad in anything.

"I always dress to impress. I can't help it — I'm impressive."

Once the shirt was on, he touched his hair, gently, trying to discern how it was falling without the help of a reflection. He had plenty of practice, but it never seemed to get much easier. Once upon a time, "artfully dishevelled" had been a choice.

"Come here," Uggie commanded.

He came to stand before her at the foot of the bed, barefoot and half dressed between her thighs, close enough that there was barely an inch between them.

An awareness of hunger hung in the air between them, like smoke in a drawing room.

Uggie held his gaze and imperiously pointed down to the ground. Obediently, he sank to his knees on the thick rug.

She teased apart the tumbling waves of his pale hair with fingers so deft he almost couldn't feel it. Almost. He'd seen her stare a man in the face and slowly bend his arm until the elbow snapped with those same fingers, but her tugging on his scalp was shockingly gentle. She was warm, too. This close, with his breath on the hem of her linen undershirt, he could feel the living warmth radiating out from her skin.

"I'm sure the crowds of Lady Rosamond's admirers will appreciate all the effort you're putting forward," she offered neutrally. "There. Your hair looks — as it usually does."

"Flawless, then." He rocked back to his feet, sending her pale hair fluttering around her ears in the disturbed air.

"Yes," she agreed placidly. Her deft fingers traced the laces of his trousers. "Always."

She said it like it wasn't flattery, or even a concession to the fickle demand of his ego. Placid, matter of fact.

Yes. Flawless. Always.

Ugh. He hadn't even meant it seriously, flippant even as it rolled off his tongue. But she did. Her sincerity was mortifying.

"I'm sure I'll have my own share of the admirers," he went on, licking his lips as he looked down upon her. For a moment, he thought, Why go out when I could stay in and feed from her? But then he remembered that the whole point of this ploy was that he should get to do both. Perhaps at the same time, even.

"Of course," she agreed.

He smoothed out her collar and trailed his fingers over her neck — over the powerful pulse of her heart — and manfully refrained from lunging in for a taste when she didn't even flinch. He touched her jaw instead, her cheek, her brow bone when she obligingly closed her eyes for him, her nose...

"You know you'd be welcome to come with me," he said, then, touching her mouth and feeling the gently draught of her breath over her soft, dry lips. "I'd like it if you did."

"Why?" she said, unmoving. This was a far cry from her usual response, which was, Thank you for extending the invitation. No. The question meant he'd already won.

"I want you to watch," he admitted.

He could feel her smile as well as see it. The tension in her mouth communicated itself right through his fingertips.

"You want me to watch what? Is there some kind of show?"

"Yes, actually," he said distantly. "Acrobats."

"Mm-hm," she said, and waited.

And waited.

He struggled with it for a moment. Almost gagging on the mortification of admitting it, he went tightly on to say: "Sometimes I want you to watch other people watching me."

Her eyes opened again, just a crack. Their orange burned like an unholy fire.

"You want me to see everyone else admire you," she said slowly, thinking it through. "You want to show off — you want me to show you off, so I can watch you swanning around in front of everyone else. You want to remind me that other people think you're beautiful, too?" Her eyebrows quirked. "Or do you just want to include me in your hobbies?"

She knew him awfully well, didn't she?

He was defensive about it, suddenly. His neck prickled with heat and humiliation, and it turned him savage.

"You don't have to put it light that," he hissed, ruffled like a cat nursing a stepped-on tail. "All I want is to go out to a nice little party and render everyone mentally ill with lust or envy. I don't care which. Is that so much to ask?"

He pulled his hand away from her face.

She caught it, lightning-fast.

Monks, he thought sourly. A rogue always thought he was the deftest man in the room. And then: monks.

She laid a kiss on his knuckles, her mouth midnight-dark against the stark pallor of his hand.

"Alright. I'll come out with you. Watch the show." Her lip caught ever so gently on his skin. "And," she added, glancing up to meet his eyes, "the acrobats, too."

If he'd had enough blood to really blush, his face would have been flaming.

I planned this, he reminded himself. He'd invited her in to watch him undress and dress again, knowing it would make her persuadable. This is a victory.

He just... wasn't used to this route of persuasion, exactly. Usually, when Astarion took his clothes off as a persuasive technique, what followed was not so... fraught and complex.

"Well," he said, watching Uggie cradle his hand. She pressed her thumbs into his palm and drew them up towards his fingers. It was a pleasant pressure. "Well, good."

Astarion felt mollified, but perhaps not victorious, exactly. He couldn't help the nagging sensation that he'd given up more than he'd intended in this exchange, that he'd revealed more than was wise about his motives.

He had this feeling a lot. Every time he opened his mouth, some days.

...But if Astarion had really given something indefinable and vital up to her today, well, he'd given a lot of himself up to a lot of people. At least he knew Uggie'd take good care of it.

#bg3 #my fic #once again tozette is attempting romance #uggie

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