#that song has been living in my head rent free for years

[twistedsea]

Desire, I'm hungry

[andresylupin]

I love how unique Mushishi's soundtrack is, and I love folk and trad songs: voilà ✨

(songs info if you're interested:)

Anakrousis and Hymne au Soleil are from the same 1979 album "Musique de la Grèce Antique" (Music from ancient Greece), by the Spanish ensemble Atrium Musicae de Madrid. They specialised in playing pieces from medieval (or older) time periods. For this specific album they used actual music gathered from ancient papyrus and reconstructed ancient instruments to be as accurate as possible. I highly recommend the whole album, it's haunting.

Зора се е, мале, зазорила (translated as "Daybreak Dawned") is a song from Bulgarian folklore, sung here by the well-known Eva Quartet. (the music and lyrics here are probably an arrangement from a pre-existing folk song but I'm not 100% sure)

木曽節 (Kiso Bushi, literally Kiso's song) is a Japanese folk song from the Kiso district, and as its name indicates, it's a song celebrating the place it originated from. The song flows as does the Kiso river, and it's performed here by the Research Institute for Japanese traditional music (pretty self-explanatory).

Каа-Хем (Yenisei river) is technically not a folk song but Yat-Kha is a Tuvan band that relies heavily on tuvan folk sound (such as khöömei/tuvan throat singing) mixed with punk/rock/metal influences and it's very cool!! And this song is of course celebrating the Yenisei river and its beautiful landscape.

La rivière Tanier is a créole lullaby, lamenting the hardship of life as an old woman fishes in the river. Graeme Allwright created this particular arrangement ; he was a French New-Zealander who spent his life travelling and making folk music. He did a lot of different things throughout both his life and his music career, so I guarantee that you'll find something you'll like if you check out his stuff. Also!! he was bestie with Leonard Cohen!

نامي نامي (Nami Nami or Sleep Sleep) is a traditional lullaby from the Middle-East (probably Egypt ?) in which a mother comforts her child with promises of their father's return. It's performed here by the ODO Ensemble ; they're based in France but their goal is to collect and perform ancient music from all over the world.

The Passing of the Elves: yes it's a soundtrack from The Lord of the Rings so I'm stretching the meaning of "folk" a little bit, but Howard Shore drew heavily from Celtic and Eastern aesthetics and tones when composing the different leitmotivs for the Elves and I like how it sounds :) plus they used the actual Sindarin poem so that's cool!

五木の子守唄 (Itsuki no Komoriuta or Itsuki Lullaby) is, to everyone's surprise, a traditional Japanese lullaby from the Itsuki district! The original lyrics are bit grim (a babysitter exhausted by a crying child) , but this is a beautiful instrumental version arranged by Takasue Shibata, and I thought it made for a nice conclusion to this little journey ☀️🌙💧

[thedeadthree]

— TAG GAME.

TAGGED BY the dear @marivenah and @leviiackrman to answer a few questions! ty ty so much love!

TAGGING: @feystepped, @griffin-wood, @jendoe, @kingsroad, @chuckhansen, @risingsh0t, @queennymeria, @denerims, @phillipsgraves, @jillvlntine, @morvaris, @aartyom, @minaharkers, @unholymilf, @leviiackrman, @jacobseed, @arklay, @corvosattano, @jackiesarch, @malefiicarum, @pearlcscent, @shellibisshe, @weisshaupts, @shadowglens, @leondaltons, @adelaidedrubman, @florbelles, @belorage, @confidentandgood, @girlbosselrond, @thee-morrigan, @rosebarsoap, @fragilestorm, @lacunafiction, @noonfaerie and you!

THREE SHIPS: inspired by mari <3!

THREE CANON SHIPS: geralt x yennefer, corlys velaryon x rhaenys targaryen, and arianne martell x daemon sand!

THREE OC SHIPS: iovanna dayne x daemon targaryen, edelgard vanderweyden x reese verner, maekar targaryen x aeryal arvel (carolines dear!)

THREE MUTUALS SHIPS: mo @kingsroad's alyse x aegon (they mean the world to me!), ash @unholymilf's iconic varya x roman (forever the moment!), airika @chuckhansen's nina x adam (the loveliest! they're dear to me!)

FIRST SHIP: oo ok ok i want to say my first ship was I think? rajaion and ena from fire emblem path of radiance? that or? selina kyle/catwoman and bruce wayne!

CURRENTLY CONSUMING: an iced coffee ajanjnsk bc i am a responsible adult <3.

CURRENTLY WATCHING: my 3829838th rewatch of house of the dragon <3 am i surprised? nay nay! its not at all for oc lore! (leg says like a liar jnjanj <3)

LAST MOVIE: the batman! <3 and one i recently adored seeing was bullet train as well! (ty ty orion and ash for introducing me bc of ur ocs u dears u!)

LAST SONG: its been stuck in my head all week! the fruits by paris paloma <3

CURRENTLY READING: rereading fernweh saga by the dear aelsa! and fire and blood by george rr martin <3 (leg once again says its bc they want know more of what’s in store for the characters and not for oc lore at all like a liar <3)

CURRENTLY CRAVING: my mom is making sauce so i have pasta on the brain <3

[tarisbackyard]

Easily one of the worst videos I've ever seen on YT was about two USAmericans coming to NL and visiting de Efteling, followed by them sitting in their hotel room crying because they saw a racist caricature of a black person at the park. They filmed themselves. Crying. In their hotel room.

And the bit went for several minutes. They weren't even talking to the camera for a good chunk off it. Just showing themselves sitting in seperate spaces of the room, not interacting with the camera, sobbing their precious little hearts out. Demonstrating to the world how their Poor Innocent Souls could not handle such blatant racism.

[rollypoliesonarock]

Quick break from tears of the kingdom because new the wonder years song came out

[enevera]

🪄!

Oh, this wasn't in my plans

Abandoned ship and heading for the sand

Oh, the albatross crash-lands

I've got this sinking feeling that I never can go home

DIVING BELL - STARSET

ask game!!

[yandere-writer-momo]

I need some Karou Phantom on the Opera Headcannons, he lives in my head rent-free

Yandere Baki Short Stories:

The Phantom of the Opera

Yandere Phantom Hanayama Kaoru x Christine! Fem Reader x mentioned! Raoul Katsumi Orochi

Large hands lovingly traced up and down (your name)’s figure from the other side of the mirror. A dark eye observed her ethereal form prepare for her performance in awe. His beautiful muse, the Apple of his eye… his angel.

Hanayama pressed his lips against the mirror, his eye fluttered shut in bliss. Desire had him in its clutches and he had no interest in stoking the fires that burned within him. He desired (your name). He’s been alone for so many years, rotting in this opera house and he finally has an angel of his own… and he’d be damned if he let that Count Katsumi stole her away! All he had ever asked of her was her loyalty and he knew that devilishly handsome man had entranced her. Hanayama would not let her fall under Katsumi’s spell. He would save her!

Hanayama had prepared for his arrival in his dark dwelling for months now. (Your name) would be pampered and doted on endlessly. She would never need to worry about money or food. And certainly not about him having a fickle heart. Hanayama had plenty of connections to keep her satisfied beyond human comprehension. It’s the least he could do…

Hanayama had trained (your name) for months to perfect her melodic voice. She owed him… she belonged to him! And Hanayama would not let her escape his grasp when he finally has the love he’s always wanted within reach… (your name) was his for all of eternity.

Hanayama began to sing to catch his angel’s attention. His heart swelled with pride when she immediately responded with a bright smile. There she was! His obedient song bird…

Their voices perfectly sung together in harmony, his eye never left her form as she twirled in her beautiful gown in her dressing room. Just a bit closer to the mirror… there!

Hanayama pushed the mirror open and quickly snatched up his prize. His large palm pressed firmly against her mouth as he pressed numerous kisses to the side of her face.

“Oh my darling song bird… let’s go home.” Hanayama huskily whispered in her ear. “You needn’t this life any longer… you only need me and the music.”

(Your name) was still entranced by his magical melody as he pulled her through the tunnel behind the mirror. The mirror gently clicked shut behind the duo that would never be seen again.

This Phantom would never be lonely again… they have reached past the point of no return.

[cloverthebarbearian]

Do You Think Of Me...?

Rolan x AFAB/OC, NSFW, 6,034 Words

A fic inspired by an incredible piece of fanart by @sammakesart, the full image of which is a patreon exclusive that is well worth the money and has been living in my head rent free for weeks. For WEEKS. (Ref Sheet for OC)

"I mean. We live in the tower now, yeah? And its Big and all, but we still like to have rooms near each other. I don't know, it feels safe… comfortable, after everything. To know we're close by. But it also means, sometimes, things aren't always… private…" Clover slowly took sips from their pint, eyes still locked on Cal's darting gaze. Biting his lip, knuckles white in his lap. Clover's eyebrows raised, "Okay? And?" Cal lowered his head, "Pleeease don't make me say it…" Lia threw her head back and nearly yelled out in exasperation, "GOOOODS Cal you're such a BABY sometimes. Listen, Clover… Clover. We know," she shoots Clover an intense stare, "We knoooow things. About Rolan. Things no siblin's should know," her hand reached out to grab their arm, "An' Rolan? Reeeeeeaaally misses you…" a knowing smile crept up on her face. Clover's cheeks felt warm, but they weren't even sure why. The gears in their head not fully turning as the alcohol worked through their veins. "What… what do you mean?"

It was a lively evening at the Elfsong. Swarms of friends deep in drink and song flooded the tables of the tavern, the Hero of Baldur's Gate among them. Busy catching up with Cal and Lia, Clover took a healthy chug of their pint amidst the laughter around them.

"And THEN he tried to tell us 'an unseen servant would be more useful'," Lia continued her ranting, "Like, sure Rolan. Good luck gettin' an invisible jester ta' help with your customers."

Apparently, Rolan had been particularly difficult to work with this past week. Between drinks, Lia was busy retelling all of his criticisms and complaints over his siblings earnest attempts to help him run Sorcerous Sundries. Now that he was the Master of Ramazith's Tower, he had to learn all of said Tower's secrets - on top of learning to run an already successful business. Admittedly an overwhelming task as is, and likely even more so for a perfectionist like Rolan.

Cal followed Lia's complaints with his own, "I get that it's been a lot as of late. But you'd think the man would be grateful to have the extra hands about! And it's not like the patrons are complaining. Hells, some bloke even tried to ask Lia on a date after shift!"

Clover raised an eyebrow to Lia at that, who simply shrugged and sipped her own drink, "He was like, 60 years old at least. Or maybe 600. I think he was an Elf? Besides, if anything, its Rolan who needs someone to ask 'em out. Hopefully someone to help yank the stick from 'is arse." Clover snorted out a laugh in response.

"You really think that would help?" They pondered aloud, "Gods, I can't even see Rolan out on a date. Let alone finding someone attractive. That man only seems to care for Tomes and the Weave," Clover chuckled to themselves, "I mean hey, Mystra's single now, maybe I could set them up..."

Cal and Lia shot each other knowing glances, poorly hidden smiles curling at the corner of their lips. This was a look that Clover recognized immediately. That token Sibling Telepathy. Clover dropped their pint on the bar with a thud and planted their palms on the counter, shooting them their own knowing glance.

"Okay," they pointed between the two of them, "What's all this?"

The siblings eyes darted at Clover and then each other, trying to hide their bubbling laughter.

"Us?" Lia said sarcastically, hands raising up in feigned innocence, "Nothin'! Nothin', honest."

"Y-yeah," Cal said with a lilt in his voice, "You're totally right that Rolan doesn't even find anyone attractive, even. The mans practically a… a Eunuch!"

Lia groaned, "Cal, ew."

Clover rolled their eyes, "You two clearly know something. Some weird secret that I guess I'm not privy to," They folded their arms across their chest, "Very rude to withhold information from the person who's saved your lives on probably, Seven different occasions at this point?"

"Oh c'mon Clove, you can't hold that against us forever," Cal groaned.

"I actually think I can," Clover retorted, "Until you've saved my life seven times, at least." They picked their drink back up and finished the final gulp, tapping their mug against the counter with a wink in request for the barmaid to top them off once more before turning back to Cal.

"Alright Bud, I know you can't keep a secret. So, what the Hells are you two keeping from me?" Cal suddenly turned a bit pale, eyes wide.

"Clover, y-you know I don't do well under pressure…"

Clover leaned in closer to him, their barbarian eyes narrowing, a bite in their voice, "Exactly."

Lia, now tiptoeing between drunk and utterly sloshed, ran her finger around the rim of her cup, giggling to herself, "Clover… you're gonna make'm piss 'imself."

Cal groaned, "Listen, I'll tell you. But it's just. It's weird! It's weeeeeird, Clove."

The dwarf grinned to themselves in victory, "Alright, then. Spill." Lia stared at Cal with a sly grin.

"Yeah Cal. Tell 'em Rolan's little secret~" Cal groaned once more, shoving his face into his palms.

"Okaaay," Cal relented, "Gods above, I… Auuugh, so. How do I even…" he was struggling to find his words, "I mean. We live in the tower now, yeah? And its Big and all, but we still like to have rooms near each other. I don't know, it feels safe… comfortable, after everything. To know we're close by. But it also means, sometimes, things aren't always… private…"

Clover slowly took sips from their pint, eyes still locked on Cal's darting gaze. Biting his lip, knuckles white in his lap. Clover's eyebrows raised, "Okay? And?"

Cal lowered his head, "Pleeease don't make me say it…"

Lia threw her head back and nearly yelled out in exasperation, "GOOOODS Cal you're such a BABY sometimes. Listen, Clover… Clover. We know," she shoots Clover an intense stare, "We knoooow things. About Rolan. Things no siblin's should know," her hand reached out to grab their arm, "An' Rolan? Reeeeeeaaally misses you…" a knowing smile crept up on her face. Clover's cheeks felt warm, but they weren't even sure why. The gears in their head not fully turning as the alcohol worked through their veins.

"What… what do you mean?"

Lia's smile turned even cheekier as she threw her head back - fake, exaggerated moans falling from her lips, "Ohhh~ Fuuuck, Clover- Yes Clover, please! Take me jus' like that," her speech slurred as she rocked her hips in frantic thrusts. Cal lowered his head onto the bar's tabletop as Clover's eyes went wide and their face went fully flush.

"Oh, my Gods…" they muttered to themselves, lifting their pint back to their lips. Lia's mocking cries turned to raucous laughter.

"I'm jus' saying. If anyone could get that man to relax…" she lifted her cup in Clover's direction before taking another hearty swig.

Suddenly, the gears in Clover's skull decided to start working. Frantically.

"Well, then," they announced, hopping off of their bar stool, "maybe I should go get the job done."

Cal and Lia once again exchanged wide eyed stares with each other, "What, like… like, right now?" Lia asked, as if shocked into a sudden sobriety. Clover chugged their nearly full pint in a handful of large, thirsty gulps. The final drops of liquid courage they needed before slamming the glass back onto the counter.

"Yeah, I guess like, Right Now. Y'all've had a hell of a week, right? If I can help…" Clover smiled to themselves, "It's kind of what I do," they gave Cal a cocky grin, "I will count this as saving your life, again. Mark me up to eight."

"Gods dammit," Cal let his head fall back onto the bar. Lia began laughing, clasping her gut as she bellowed.

"He should still be closing up at the Sundries!" Lia started hollering after Clover as they began to leave the Elfsong, "We'll stay here tonight, so take your time!"

Clover heard Cal stammer out, "Lia, that's disgusting!" Before walking into the cool night air.

Sorcerous Sundries was but a brief walk away. And Clover couldn't help all but skipping towards their unknowing wizard, his dirty secret at the forefront of their mind...

The open doors of Sorcerous Sundries allowed a pleasant breeze to flow through the lobby. Rolan took in a breath of fresh air, busying himself balancing the account records of sales for the evening. A small crew of mage hands floated around him, carrying stacks of sales records, tomes to be organized, sorting through everything from profits to taxes to local investments.

He'd typically give himself the time to pat his own back at his creative means of multitasking. If only his mind weren't so overcome with the newfound pressures being Ramazith's Master have brought him. Yes, the Sundries was a success trade business. Yes, the tower held treasures and secrets and power aplenty. But Gods, had Lorroakan ever opened a checkbook in his life? The debts this man owed, the back taxes and unkept promises Rolan was now forced to follow up on. Though grateful to not have a cane to his jaw, the stress of picking up his former Master's mess was taking its toll.

The faint footsteps of a guest entering the building could be heard across the tiled floors.

"Ah, terribly sorry but we are closed for the evening- Oh," he glanced up from his busy work to see the Hero of Baldur's Gate approaching the Sundries counter, "it's You," he mumbled, the voice of customer hospitality lost in his tone, "What do you want?" He questioned, adjusting the pair of reading glasses sat atop the point of his nose, glancing back down at his records.

Clover hesitated a moment, "Ouch, not the warm welcome I was anticipating. Is this how you treat all your customers?"

"I don't anticipate you're here to purchase something," Rolan remarked, focus fully back on his paperwork. The mage hands organizing the storefront flitted around Clover's head as they continued to approach the counter. Rolan just barely took his eyes from his work to peak up at the dwarf in front of him. He paused, "Did you need something?"

Clover slid their hands across the countertop, "Oh, what? I can't just… happen to be in the neighborhood, dropping by to say hello to an old friend?"

Rolan rolled his eyes back to his work, "We're friends now, is it? And here I thought you were nothing more than my siblings overpaid babysitter," Clover's head cocked to the side.

"You don't pay me."

Rolan flipped to a new page on his countertop.

"I know."

Clover rolled their eyes, strumming their fingers against the polished wood, pondering how to get to occupied wizard's attention. He was dressed so casual - his robes gone, wearing just his loose undershirt and fitted trousers. Emboldened by the alcohol still buzzing through their bloodstream, and their newfound knowledge of Rolan's secret desires, they decided to walk themselves behind the Sundries counter.

"This space is for employees only," Rolan commented, without looking up from his records. Clover paid him no mind, walking up to him and lifting themselves onto the counter directly in front of the Wizard, who responded by sighing. Exhausted and irritated, he hung his head, laying his palms down on the counter before him, "Would you kindly be an utter inconvenience somewhere else? I'm trying to work here," he gestured to his documents, but couldn't seem to look the barbarian in the eyes.

"Oh, Rolan, I'm hurt," Clover responded, "Is that really what you think of me? I'm just an, 'utter inconvenience'?"

"Right now? Yes!" Frustrated, he finally found himself looking at Clover's face. But rather than maintaining his building rage, his breath caught in his throat.

They were much closer to him than he initially realized. He could see their mismatched eyes so clearly. Clear enough to see - no, smell - the magic enchanted in the blue glass eye to his left. He could also smell the heavy alcohol on their breath. Though their dwarven fortitude kept them composed, the sour wheat smell of beer was unmistakable. He found it mixed beautifully with their natural sent of musk, the sugar plum soaps he knew they preferred, and that faintest whiff of copper, from all the blood that often soaks their body after battle. Caught in the sheer aura of them, he nearly didn't register as Clover's hands gently gripped at his forearms resting at their sides.

"I'm sorry," they lied, "I must be a real bother right now. I'm sure you're thinking of a million different ways to get me out of your hair," they made a point of dragging their right hand up his neck and tangling their fingers into the hair on his nape. Without even thinking, Rolan's hands moved from the countertop to hesitantly reach for their thighs. Fingers hovering, as if touching them in earnest would cause them to vanish.

"Don't you just wish there were some way you could… shut me up?" Clover's heavy gaze flitted between his eyes and his lips. Rolan swallowed a lump building in his throat, and (unsuccessfully) tried to will away the growing pressure in his pants.

"C-Clover, what are you-"

"Tell me something Rolan," they interrupted, using their free hand to remove the glasses from his face. Their noses brushed against each other as warm breath mixed in the air between them.

"Do you ever think of me when you cum?"

Rolan's entire body shuddered, from head to toe to the tip of his tail. His fingers clenched around their thighs as he pulled their bodies flush.

"I…" He choked, holding his breath for a second that felt like an eternity, before letting himself go.

"Yes," was all he managed to say in response. Spoken in a heavy breath - a whisper, a moan, a prayer. They were already so close, neither one knew who moved first. But as soon as the word left his throat, their lips crashed together in a frenzy.

There was no patience, it was not gentle. Clover fueled by liquid courage and Rolan fueled by sheer desire. Tongues tangled as shared saliva slowly dripped from the corners of their mouths. They kissed each other as much as they breathed each other in, only pulling apart once Rolan bit Clover's bottom lip. Tugging at it gently, just barely breaking skin with his sharp incisors. Chests heaving as they both took a moment to collect themselves. Rolan lifted a hand in the air, eyes lidded and unfocused. With a flick of his wrist, Clover could hear the doors to the Sundries closing and locking shut, as the lights inside dimmed to the gentle flicker of that magical blue/green glow of enchanted flames.

"Well, someone sure knows how to set the mood," Clover quipped, draping their arms around Rolan's neck and leaning back in for a kiss. Which he returned, deeply, but briefly, before breaking away from them again. Clover whimpered in disappointment, trying to pull him back towards them. But Rolan's hands reached up to their arms around him, stilling their movements for a moment.

"Clover…" he whispered, his voice deep and aching, "Why are you here?"

He looked confused, almost scared, his burning yellow eyes glowing in the dim lighting, unwilling to look at them. It hurt Clover enough to not laugh in response, but they never thought Rolan capable of being so dense.

"Is it… is it not obvious?" Their fingers played with his hair. Rolan scoffed, smiling weakly.

"It just feels, surreal. It feels like I'm dreaming…" Clover lowered their head to catch his gaze.

"Well, you're not," they said softly, "but let's pretend that you are. Let's pretend this is a dream," they nudged against his nose with their own, trying to catch his lips, "You're dreaming. And I'm here," they whispered, "What do you want to do with me?"

Something stirred in Rolan's chest. Without looking at them, he captured their lips again, sliding his fingers beneath the hem of their shirt. He began to lift the cloth upwards, but stilled himself, pulling his lips away just for a moment. Clover smiled, whispering approval to continue before catching his lips again. Rolan pulled their shirt up, the hem resting on his wrists as his thumbs traced the shape of their skin, cupping their breasts as he passed over them.

Clover stilled their kiss briefly to let out a moan, and Rolan took the opportunity to remove their shirt completely before returning his kisses to their lips, down their chin, down their neck. Clover's arms wrapped tightly around him, hands holding the back of his head as his tongue traced a wet line from their neck downwards. He explored their skin, finding the shallow dips between their collar bone, kissing down lower until his tongue and hands met their puckering nipples.

"Fuck, Rolan..." Clover moaned, gripping his head by his hair and pushing his face into their chest. Rolan responded in kind with a deep, purring moan. His lips fully encompassing their nipple while his tongue traced around it. Quick, frantic flicks of his tongue followed by desperate sucking left Clover's chest bruised and swollen. When Rolan lifted his head up for a breath, he kissed Clover once more, then returned his focus to their other breast, making sure he provided both with equal pleasure.

The sounds leaving Clover's mouth were bordering on sinful. They had their legs wrapped around Rolan's body, kicking their shoes off their feet and rocking themselves into him. They could feel their own arousal pooling between their legs. Their hips bucked aggressively as Rolan took the stiff bud on their chest between his teeth, and pulled. Clover threw their head back and whined in pleasure.

Rolan smiled, his hands leaving the curve under their breasts and traveling down the soft skin of their torso. He hooked his fingers under the fold of their waistband, tracing his sharp nails across their skin towards the center of their pants. He began to deftly untie the laces of their trousers. Clover unhooked their legs from behind his back so he could pull the rest of their clothes from their body.

Rolan ran his hands along Clover's thighs as he removed one pant leg after the other. Fully exposed, Rolan took a step back to appreciate the creature in front of him.

Clover's chest was heaving, their pale neck and chest marked red from all the kisses and bites Rolan left on their skin. Their legs were spread wide open for him, the folds of their cunt dripping and twitching in anticipation. They had one hand propping themselves up on the countertop, but the other was dancing across their skin, tracing the ghost of Rolan's own fingers in his absence. They shivered, the chill of their bare skin mixed with anticipation.

"I know you're enjoying yourself," Clover mumbled, breath heavy with lust, "but if you don't come back over here and touch me, I'll-"

Rolan nearly tripped over himself returning to their embrace. He grabbed behind their ear with one hand, pulling their hips into him with the other, kissing them so deeply Clover could feel him shaking against them, before pulling away from them abruptly.

"What are you limits?" He asked in haste. Clover's response was hazy and confused.

"My… what?"

"How far are you willing to go with me? Do we need a… a… a signal? A safeword? To tell me to stop, or…" His hand tightened against their waist.

Clover smiled. Even in a situation like this - sat here completely naked, their body visibly yearning for him - he was so nervous. So mindful. They reached their hands under his chin and kissed him softly.

"We can do whatever you want," they kissed him again, a gentle laugh escaping their lips before saying, "though I wouldn't mind being thoroughly ravaged by you."

Rolan let out a sharp, sudden laugh. Or perhaps a grunt, even. Something almost animal.

"Then I hope you'll allow me to indulge myself," he responded, before quickly dropping to his knees. Hooking his arms behind Clover's thighs, he pulled them to the very edge of the counter, letting their legs drape over his shoulders. A wild look flashed across his eyes before he began planting kisses along Clover's inner thighs. Kisses, and bites, not shying away from biting hard enough to draw blood between their legs. Clover gave a sharp inhale, causing Rolan to glance up at them, an unspoken question.

Clover ran their fingers through his hair, clenching their legs a touch tighter against his back, nodding for him to continue. He purred again, a sound Clover's core was beginning to respond to in kind, before biting their soft inner thigh once more, creeping closer to their center. They smiled and shuddered, letting their head lull back, "Do all tieflings purr like that?"

Rolan licked the blood from their thigh, kissing their skin ever inwards, "Only when we're excited," he responded, before sliding his thumbs up between the folds of their cunt, spreading them open for him. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of their desire, and ran his tongue up their dripping arousal. He sucked their clit into a kiss, rolling the sensitive nub against his tongue.

Clover's hand immediately went from a fistful of Rolan's hair straight to his horn, pulling him in closer, "My Gods, Rolan - Fuck!" They nearly screamed as his mouth explored them. Thighs gripped tightly against his head, their hips rocking with a sudden urgency. Rolan could hardly control himself as he moaned, and gasped, and devoured their cunt. The nectar dripping from their swollen lips worth more to him in this moment than air to breathe.

He slid his tongue inside of them, holding the lips of their pussy open between two fingers with his left hand, and carefully massaging their clit with his thumb. Rolan could feel the inner walls of Clover's sex trying desperately to clench around him as he ate them out, and lulled his eyes up to look into theirs.

Clover was putty under his touch. Their chest was heaving, sweat building on their brow. Their cheeks were flush, their eyes were watering. Seeing the way their body responded to him made Rolan's dick twitch painfully beneath the restraints of his pants.

He slid a hand around Clover's thigh. A feeble attempt to loosen the barbarian's grip, which they thankfully understood. Rolan leaned back a moment for a breath of air before standing tall and crashing their lips together, allowing Clover to taste their own sweet musk of arousal. They had draped their arms around Rolan's neck, while the wizard frantically attempted to remove his own garments. Clover caught on to his movements and began assisting in removing his shirt as he wrestled with his own trousers. Both parties having a difficult time as they refused to let go of each other's lips in the process.

"I hope - it's not - to forward," he said between kisses, "But I - I," he grabbed Clover's face and held them in a deep, steady kiss, before pulling them away, "I think if I - If I don't have sex with you this instant, I may - I may go mad."

He took Clover's hand and brought it down to his throbbing member, though he let them take their own time in touching him.

They looked into him, a coy smile and devilish gaze behind their eyes. They gingerly took the tiefling's erection in their hand, and Rolan's knees all but buckled in response. He had to grip onto the countertop to stop himself from collapsing. Clover laughed quietly under their breath, stroking his cock with increasing fervor.

Rolan kissed them again, quickly tracing his mouth from their lips to the crook of their neck. Clover wrapped their legs around the small of his back, guiding the tip of his dick towards their desperate heat. They rocked themselves against him, sliding the length of his shaft between their slick folds. They could feel his entire body tremble against them, hearing the sweetest whimpers escape him as his face remained buried in their shoulder.

Barely audible, he tilted his head toward their ear and weakly begged them, "Clover… please…"

They traced the end of his cock back to their pulsing entrance and rolled their hips against him, allowing the tip to gain entry. They could feel Rolan's breath catch. His hands found their way to Clover's hips once more, holding them steady at the edge of the counter as he slid his entire length inside them with ease. The complex curves and ridges of his infernal features could be felt within Clover's walls.

"Rolan…" His name fell from their lips in a desperate moan as the tip of his cock reached the deepest parts of them.

Rolan stilled once fully sheathed, Clover's cunt pulsing and throbbing against him in pure anticipation. They rolled their hips ever so slightly. Rolan cursed in response, his voice shaky and low.

He began to drag himself out of their pussy once more, almost reluctant to leave them, until just his tip was teasing the entrance of their hole.

Rolan slammed his cock into them, hands fixed upon their waist so firmly his nails were threatening to break skin. He gave Clover a few long, powerful thrusts like this. Dragging himself out nearly in full before burying himself within them.

Soon enough the long, drawn out strokes were replaced with closer, more frantic thrusts. Rolan's hips barely leaving the embrace of Clover's own as he humped them like an animal in heat.

Rolan lifted himself from the shallow curve where Clover's neck met their shoulder. He pressed his forehead to theirs, grunting hard as he fucked them. Clover's hand gripped the back of his neck as they held his wanton gaze.

"How long have you wanted this?" They asked, panting, their hold on his neck tightening, "How long have you wanted to fuck me like this?"

Rolan's pace picked up, keening under his partner's commanding presence.

"Since - Since Last Light," he stuttered between his heaving breaths and desperate thrusts, "S-Since you saved - saved them. Since you s-saved us. Since you - Ah - since you freed me of - of my tormentor - and made me Master of this Tower," his movements grew sporadic and urgent as he spoke.

Clover laughed as they moaned, "Oh fuck, Rolan, that's right. You're the Master of this Tower now," They gripped him by his hair and gently yanked his head back. The whimper that escaped Rolan's lips at their touch was pitiful. Clover began running kisses up and down his neck, before tracing their tongue below his ear.

"Fuck me, Master Rolan," the lust dripping from their voice was intoxicating. Rolan's hectic and rhythmless thrusting sped up, his moans entirely debauched. Clover could feel their cunt clenching around him as they inched towards their own release.

"Yes, Clover - Fuck!" Rolan moaned and whined as he felt them on the edge, "Take your Master's cock. Take me just - just like that," Clover's grip on his hair tightened as their mouth opened against his neck.

"Rolan!" They nearly wept as they came over his thrusting cock, juices spilling out of them with every shallow plunge.

"Gods, Clover, I'm - I," he could barely finish his attempted warning before Clover caught him completely by surprise, pushing him out of them and dropping onto their knees. They gripped his cock as the shaft pulsed beneath their touch, laying the head of him against their tongue. They stroked him frantically, his member still sticky and wet with their juices.

"Fuuuuck!" Rolan's hands fell to the counter as a powerful orgasm ran through him. His legs shook as thick lengths of cum released into Clover's mouth. Strings of his spend so long they reached across their cheeks and nose. Clover smiled as they rubbed him through his release, sucking on his head to milk every last drop of him.

Once the last of the aftershocks finished running through him, Rolan dropped to the floor to join his equally exhausted partner. Their backs resting against the counter shelves. Slick with sweat, heaving chests, swollen lips, both covered in marks from each others touch.

Clover leaned their head against the wizards shoulder. Rolan placed his head atop theirs, turning and planting a kiss in their hair. Clover ran their fingers on the floor absentmindedly. Rolan took notice, and slid his own hand across the floor a touch, gently nudging his sharp claws against the dwarf's rugged, calloused hands. They responded immediately, interlacing their fingers with his own.

They turned to look up at the man who had just well and truly fucked them near senselessness. They had never seen him so disheveled. His hair was loose and curling with is sweat. He was still panting, this likely being some of the hardest physical work a magic user like him has had to do in quite some time. Still naked, Clover took the time to examine the man's infernal features. The spikes and grooves on his chest and shoulders that so starkly contrasted their own soft and squishy stomach and thighs.

They took their free hand and ran it up his chest, tracing the bumps under his skin. Rolan jumped at the unexpected touch and looked down at his partner, equally debauched. He laughed as he attempted to wipe some of his now drying spend from their face, instead opting for a quick prestidigitation. Clover smiled.

"How are you feeling?" They asked. They weren't really sure what to say, now that the deed had been done. But they were here to help him relax, after all. They should at least find out if it worked.

"How am I feeling?" Rolan responded, almost in disbelief, "That's a rather loaded question, I mean... I still feel like I must be dreaming -"

"But you're not," Clover interrupted, planting a kiss on his shoulder.

"I… yes. Okay, yes, but I'm not," he sighed, resigning to the truth of the situation, "Then I feel like… I feel like I just, um…" He cleared his throat, "I feel as though I just bed the most beautiful creature in all the realms. Gods, in my place of business, no less. I hate to see the mess we've made in proper lighting," He trailed off into his thoughts, almost embarrassed by circumstances.

Clover climbed onto his lap, straddling him in an attempt to get his full focus, "Thank you ever so much for the very literal explanation of our current situation," they expressed with a playful mocking tone, their hands running up and down his arms, "But I do in fact mean how are you feeling, emotionally. Do you feel okay?"

Rolan sat still for a moment. As if he truly needed to consider whether or not he felt okay after all of this. Clover's heart was pounding, suddenly worried if this was a bad idea. That is until Rolan reached up for their face, pulling them in for a tender kiss. When he let them pull away, he held both their hands in his own.

"Clover, I feel incredible. And I feel… confused? But the incredible aspects outweigh the confusion. And perhaps we can discuss the confusion some other time, because right now, I… I'd really like to bask in the incredible."

Clover smiled, and nodded, leaning into Rolan's chest. He wrapped his arms around them, breathing deeply of their scent, committing it to memory. As exhaustion fully took its hold on them, they melted into each other's embrace.

The morning light crept through the stained glass dome of Sorcerous Sundries in a dance of rainbow prisms. The twinkling causing Rolan's dreary eyes to squint tight before slowly opening.

He was sat on the floor behind the Sundries front counter, still undressed, with an equally bare dwarf sleeping soundly against his chest. The memories of the night before washed over him. Clover's body flush against him, calling out his name as they came with him inside them. It all sent a renewed wave of arousal crashing through his body.

That is, until he heard a shout from the busy streets outside, and the reality of his current predicament crashed over him even harder.

"Oh Gods," he glanced around himself. Papers strewn across the floor. Various bobbles lay in disarray, likely dropped by the mage hand assistants last night once he lost concentration on the spell. Drops of his own errant spend now dry on the shelves. Stains of sweat and what other fluids he could only guess marking the floor beneath them. He palmed his face, rubbing his temple between his fingers before rousing his partner from his arms.

"Clover, get up," he started to lift himself from the floor as his companion groaned, "Get up, damn you! We fell asleep," he was whispering, as if someone outside might overhear them. Clover sat themselves upright, eyes still closed.

"Yeah… We fell asleep. People tend to do that when they're tired…" Clover mumbled.

"We fell asleep in the Sundries you idiot!" Rolan was trying to dress himself while cleaning up after last night's… experience, "We have to leave - No, you have to leave. I have to finish cleaning up before I open," his movements were frantic. Clover watched him dart around, still sat on the floor. He conjured a quick bust of himself - a modified version of mirror image, perhaps? - swearing as he attempted to fix his hair. Clover yawned, lazily picking up their own clothes and dressing themselves at a snails pace.

Still sat on the floor, Rolan found himself tripping over them as he aimlessly paced around the counters. Stacks of paperwork flew from his arms as he fell. Clover tried to reach out and break his fall, though it did little help.

"Bugger it all!" Rolan slammed a fist against the tiled floor, propping himself to his knees, "Could you PLEASE get up and either help me, or leave!" He shouted in Clover's direction.

They both froze, Rolan held his breath.

"Y'know…" Clover slowly stood up and walked over to the wizard kneeling on the floor. At this height, they were at eye level with each other, "Calling someone an idiot and demanding they leave the morning after you've fucked them silly? Not exactly the best impression one wants to make," they tried to joke, lifting a hand to his cheek. Rolan didn't comment, his gaze locked onto the floor.

Clover sighed, pulling his head to their chest as they held him. Their strong arms felt both soft and secure, the rhythm of their heartbeat providing a sense of grounding Rolan didn't even realize he so desperately needed. As Clover spoke, their voice reverberated against his cheek.

"I'm no mage, Rolan," they started, one hand gently stroking his head as they spoke, "I can't detect your thoughts, or calm your emotions with a spell. I can't compel you into a zone of truth and force you to be honest with me. But I can tell when someone is overworked, and overwhelmed," they squeezed his head tighter for a moment before releasing him and holding his face in their hands. He looked up at them, his eyes glossy with tears he refused to shed.

"You need a break, you stubborn jackass," Clover said with a smile, "There's nothing wrong with that. I think the city will survive if the Sundries is closed for a day or two. And if you're truly that worried I'm sure I could convince Gale to come visit and-"

"Absolutely not," Rolan interjected sternly, clearing his throat, "Forgive me, but that man has no idea how to speak to patrons without coming across as a pretentious, pompous, know-it-all."

"Oh, but you do?" Clover retorted with a grin. Rolan seemed shocked at first, then smiled back. Chuckling to himself, he reached up to hold Clover's hand, pulling it from his cheek and planting a deep kiss against their palm. Taking a deep breath, he stood up, still holding Clover's hand.

"I'll set up the portal upstairs to take you to the washroom of the tower. Let me finish with what I had started last night, then I'll come join you," Clover cocked an eyebrow.

"You'll come join me, eh? In the glorious, magical washroom of Ramazith's Tower?" They tried to tease him, but he simply turned to them with devious look in his eyes.

"Yes, I'll be joining you. After I finish cleaning up the mess you made," he leaned down to their ear, "Be grateful I'm not forcing you to help," he said sweetly, kissing their cheek. He raised his hand and flicked his wrist, the familiar sounds of a transportation portal wooshing to life on the floor above them, "Now, off with you. I don't need any more distractions, especially if you'd like me to get this finished quickly."

Clover smirked as they began to walk off, "Whatever you say, oh great Master Rolan," a shiver shot up his spine as they dragged out his title across their tongue. He tried to compose himself, but his tail flicked with excitement as the dwarf ascended the staircase.

"I'll be waiting."

[dbnightingale24]

Fog In The Mind, Desire In The Heart

A Dark Curtis Everett Love Story

~~

Surprise! I decided to take a small break from the three novels I'm writing (I promise that your updates are coming!!), and finish the damn Curtis Everett one shot I promised you guys years ago. It may take me forever to get to the point, but I do eventually get there, in my defense. Anywho, this is a lot shorter than what you all are used to, but I hope you all enjoy it just the same! As always, thanks to the amazing @fuckingbyefor the moodboard! Here we go!

Word Count: 9911 (yes, you read that correctly)

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI 18+), Slight Snowpiercer AU, Slight Age Gap between Edgar and Reader (work with me people), Curtis Everett, Daddy Kink, Non Con/Dub Con, Drinking, Plotting, Self Hate, Loathing, Betrayal, Swearing, Angst, Mild Violence, Anger, Pining...I think that's it?

Songs That Inspired This Story: I'd Walk Through Fire For You, Just Let Me Adore You

Summary: Everyone stuck in the tail section dreamed of a better life for themselves. Everyone except for Curtis. For him, his better life would start when you were happy and by his side, no matter who he had to force out of the way.

~~

I do not give consent/permission for my stories/works to be posted/published elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior, this is for entertainment purposes only.

~~

~~

For as much as you hate Curtis, he lives rent free in your head all day. You sit at the bar that Nam so lovingly bar tends day in and day out, listening in and out of the conversation he makes almost every night.

“Right now isn’t the time, but you’ll see...the world will be livable again. Maybe another year or so, but we’ll be able to get off of this fucking train,” he tells you tonight, an echo of the same thing he’s been saying every night for the last two years.

“What did Curtis say?” you snicker, putting your empty glass down as he reaches for your favorite poison: whiskey.

“He’s busy,” Nam simply shrugs, refilling your glass with ice and the dark brown liquid.

“When isn’t he?”

“Y/N, you know what happened to Edgar-”

“He’s gone, Nam,” you snap unintentionally. “Whatever the hell Curtis meant to happen, didn’t. Edgar has been dead for two years and all the while we wait for the great Curtis Everett to come up with a fucking plan to make all of this not seem so shit as it is,” you sigh before downing your drink.

Your reasons for hating Curtis are very simple and clear for everyone to understand.

Everyone except Curtis.

You remember when you first boarded onto the stupid train that “saved” your life. You remember them ripping you away from your Mother, who sacrificed herself so you could have a chance at life, and her promising you that she’d meet up with you later on in the train.

She never did.

You know she only did it because she knew it was the only way you’d board the train, but the anger feel towards her never leaves.

It never has and it never will. 

That was the first time you saw him.

You were put into a group of young teenage girls, a place you barely belonged since you were almost 17, and you felt a pair of eyes on you. 

It’s not like that was uncommon, but it didn’t help anything. In fact, as time went on, on the train, you found that a lot of men had their eyes on you. You were beautiful, soft spoken but also opinionated, and kind. You were so understanding and helpful, unlike almost everyone else on the train who gave up hope as soon as the doors closed.

They all did their best to make you notice them, Curtis more than most, but you were more than happy to keep to yourself. 

At least, that’s until Edgar came of age. While he was younger than you by a few years, he was persistent and the only one who could truly make you smile and laugh. For as tense and gloomy as things could be, Edgar always found a way to soften everything. The first few times he asked you out (well, too hangout on his bed), you said no because of the age difference. 

“Who cares?” he laughed as he followed you to the little hospital section they had set up in one of the train cars.

“Clearly I do!”

“It’s not that bad!”

“Edgar-”

“What could it hurt? We’ll split a protein block, a cup of water, talk a bit, and I’ll walk you back to your bunk. It’ll be fun!”

“Edgar-”

“You know you want to, I see it in your eyes.”

“No Edgar,” you smiled softly before making your way to the children’s bunks to read them a story.

“You’ll say yes, you’ll see!” he called with a soft smile, before he turned and made his way back to his bunk.

After that, he didn’t let up. He asked almost every day until you finally caved and said yes. From that moment on, you two inseparable (after you both finished your daily chores). You loved to spend time reading to the children and he was more than happy to accompany you. The kids loved him anyway.

“What do you think about us having one?” Edgar asked one night as you two laid together after sex.

“Having one what?”

“Child?”

“Fuck no!”

“Shh,” he laughed softly, stroking your hair. “Why not?”

“You can’t be serious, babe. We live on a fucking train, the shittiest part of the train I might add, the world is frozen, the front end comes and randomly takes children whenever they please-”

“It won’t always be like this, plus, Curtis has a plan.”

“Oh? What plan is that?” you scoffed

Edgar had always been Curtis’ biggest supporter.

“Why don’t you believe in him?”

“It’s not that I don’t believe in him, but I’m not willing to follow blindly behind him. Everyone else is, and I just don’t see a reason to,” you shrugged.

“Y/N-”

“You asked me a question and I gave you an answer. It’s not my fault that you don’t like the answer, baby.”

Curtis had always been the one thing that got in the way of your relationship with Edgar. Edgar would willingly follow Curtis, no matter what he said or what he did, and you weren’t buying into any of it. Sure, Curtis seemed nice enough and he was kind when he wanted to be, but there was also a silent anger to him. A silent anger that always seemed like it could go off at any time. 

Plus, it’s not exactly like he was thrilled when you and Edgar started seeing each other. Once again, a lot of the men weren’t, but everyone could see how happy you were. How well you and Edgar fit together. Curtis, on the other hand, rolled his eyes whenever he saw the two of you together. 

“Why don’t you come and help us tonight? You always have an idea-”

“No,” you laughed and Edgar scowled. “That’s your thing, not mine.”

“If you’d come, you’d see there’s nothing to hate about-”“I don’t hate Curtis!” you snapped softly and he rolled his eyes, “I just...something isn’t right there. You all just follow and believe everything that he says, and that’s not okay.”

“You always find a reason to doubt him and hes never given you a reason to.”

“And hes never given you a reason to trust him so much!”

“I’m not having another argument about this-”

“Good, because I’m tired of him somehow always becoming the center of our relationship.”

“Y/N-”

“You’re gonna be late. Go.”

You hated arguing so much with him about Curtis, but he didn’t know the things that you knew about him. Besides the fact that his eyes always lingered on you for far much longer than they should have, you knew about the things that Edgar was too young to remember. You knew what happened to his Mother, you knew what almost happened to Edgar, and you knew that Curtis would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.

Besides, by the way he watched you like you were his prey, you knew he’d stop at nothing to get you. So, when it was finally time for the “great uprising” you begged Edgar to stay behind with you.

“We’ve spent too long planning and plotting for me to stay behind-”

“You can stay with me!” you sobbed and he shook his head.

“Trust me! Believe in me! I can do this!”

“Edgar-”

“We’ll have a future, children, space-”

“I just want you! Please-”

“I’ll come back to you and you’ll see. I promise you, it’ll be okay. I love you.”

That was the last time you saw him alive.

When word got back to you how he’d been killed, and who let it happen, something inside you snapped. You became violent, you lost all patience, you attacked anyone who got in your way as you started on your own journey to the front, and you led everyone who had stayed behind to the front of the train with you. By the time you got there, Wilford had been killed and Curtis was the new leader. Of course, no one noticed all of the changes in Curtis’ attitude, as if you all owed him your lives, because he’d apparently made your lives better. He made changes that made years of suffering finally seem like they had been worth something. 

Everyone except you.

“Curtis wants to see you,” one of the girls tells you as she approaches the bar. 

Sansa, who’s his regular girl. 

“Just give him time,” Nam repeats softly, filling your glass one last time. 

You roll your eyes and down your drink before you follow Sansa to the very front of the train.

This isn’t the first time you’ve been called to his bedroom. Hell, it isn’t even the 100th time. Not long after the battle ended and changes were made, Curtis Everette made it very well known to everyone on the train, that you are his absolute favorite. Not so much with his words, but with his actions. He’d made it seem as if it were out of honor for Edgar, but the way he watched you let you know that, that was bullshit. No, he never called you into his bed, but he also made sure to never let you get close to another man again.

He made sure you never had to work, you never wanted for anything, you always had fresh clothes waiting for you, and you had one of the best rooms on the train. 

“Edgar sacrificed his life so you could have a better one. It only makes sense that you have the best of everything,” he whispered the night that he’d helped you settle into your new room.

In return, you’ve made it known that you’ll always despise him.

“What?” you snap the second you step foot inside his room.

He looks at you with his bourbon shot eyes, and you scoff. He’s in one of his moods.

“You could be a little nicer to me, Y/N.”

“Everyone on this train is nice enough to you. Now, what do you want? What’s the point of giving me a room if you never actually let me stay in it.”

“What’s wrong with you today?” he sneers, pouring himself another drink.

“You’re still here and Edgar isn’t.”

“Edgar made his choice-”

“Edgar worshiped you and blindly followed you into battle, and you couldn’t give less of a shit about what happened to him.”

“That’s not true!”

You scoff and narrow your eyes at him, “then why do you call me here every fucking night?”

“I’ve never done anything-”

“I know you’re not drunk enough to lie to me,” you warn with a snarl.

No, technically Curtis has never done anything to you, but hes found ways to...mess with you. 

He’s had you stay in the rooms while hes fooled around with other women, sometimes multiple at once, if he gets drunk enough, he watches you bathe and get dressed, hes gone out of his way to show you just how badly he wants you, and he never lets you stay away from him for too long. No, he’s never forced himself on you and taken you, but hes always been just a few steps away from doing so.

With Edgar out of the way, he’s free to do whatever he pleases.

However, the problem is, Curtis wants you to want him. He wants you to burn for him just as bad as he burns for you. At one point, that would’ve been possible. It was never that you found him unattractive or unapproachable, something just always seemed...off. Now that, that’s been confirmed, you’re repulsed by the man.

Even if you do still find him painfully attractive.

A sick smirk comes to his face as he makes his way over to you, “I’ve never done anything that haven’t found yourself enjoying.” “Yes, because I love spending my nights watching fuck other women.”

“Could be you.”

“You can let go of that dream. If it never happened before, it sure as fuck isn’t gonna happen now.”

Without warning, he’s gripping your neck tight and forcing you against the wall, and you do your best to ignore the fluttering feeling in your stomach.

“You can pretend all you want to, but I know how bad you want it. I hear you at night when you think I’m asleep. The pathetic little moans and whimpers, and your desperate begging.”

Your eyes go wide and he chuckles darkly.

“You’re not as slick as you think, honey.”

“It’s not for you, so don’t go getting a big ego.” “It sure as shit isn’t for Edgar, even when you were fucking him regularly. He could never truly satisfy you. Not in the way you needed.” “You’re a bastard!”

“How many times did you picture me every time he fucked you, hmm? How many times do you picture me when you’re alone in that cozy little room of yours?”

You don’t know what the hell has gotten into him, because he’s never been this forceful with you before.

“Never!”

“You should be thanking me,” he growls, his grip on your neck getting tighter as he leans in close. “Maybe I should stop being so fucking nice to you and just take it.” “Don’t you fucking dare!”

“What will you do, huh? The only crying you’ll be doing is when I’m done with you and you’re begging for more of my cock.”

Of all the fucking times to be turned on.

“Curtis-”

“You fucking want it,” he continues, “even now, I know that little pussy is crying to be touched. To fucked until it’s ruined!”

You push him off of you and glare at him.

“Admit it! You orchestrated all of this so you could-”

“He knew what he was getting himself into! He knew the chance he was taking-”

“He trusted you!”

“That was his fault!”

There it is.

“So you admit it!”

“I’d do it again! Why did he deserve you but I didn’t?! I still don’t?! After all I’ve done for you?!”

“You’re monster!”

“Sticks and stones,” he smirks before pressing you against the wall again. “Maybe I should show you just how much of a monster I am.”

His lips are on yours and when you try to push him off of you, he doubles down on his efforts. Squeezing at the stitches in his other arm, he hisses in pain, dropping his glass and backs up for just a moment. He slaps you hard before going in for another kiss, but you’re quick to knee him in the groin.

“Bitch!”

You’re quick to run out and make your way to room, not sure of where else there is to hide, and before you can slide the door close, he’s pushing you in and slamming it shut behind him.

“Get out!”

“Get on the fucking bed!” “Curtis-”

“Fine, you want this to be rough? I can be as rough as you want me to be, baby,” he promises as he locks the door.

“HELP!”

“No one is going to go against me, no one is going to save you, and no one is gonna feel bad for you. Scream all you fucking want, they’ll know you’re just enjoying it,” he promises with a sinister smile.

Seeing no other way out of this, you rush him against the wall and just start hitting him with all the power you have in your body.

“I’ve never had to work for it,” he taunts, easily pushing you back. “Never had to make a bitch admit just how bad she wants me!”

“I hate you! I want nothing to do with you!”

“Is that what you’d tell yourself every time you’d make eye contact with me while he was fucking you? Looking down at me as he fucked up into you, telling you just how much he loves and adores you?” he counters, easily wrapping an arm around your waist, easily throwing you down on the bed. “When you knew I was getting off to your hushed moans? You didn’t want anything to do with me then either? You didn’t want me making you scream?”

You hate that he has a point because, to an extent, you did want one him at one point. You wanted him bad. It’s part of why you’d turn down Edgar so many times. No, you never had any intention of pursuing Curtis, but you were attracted to him. Far more than you were to Edgar, and you felt incredibly guilty about it. You would’ve been content to be alone, but Edgar never relented and you eventually found it cute.

Of course you knew what Curtis was doing whenever the two of you locked eyes, but you truly never thought he’d let Edgar get killed so he could get you. The worst part of it is, even now that you know the truth of it all, you still want Curtis. In some sick way, the fact that he did something so horrible just to have you all to himself drove you insane in the worst way. You aren’t losing the fight because he’s overpowering you, you’re losing the fight because you’re tired of fighting it.

“Don’t get quiet on me now,” he snickers as pulls his top off and throws it across the room. “Don’t tell me that you’re a filthy little liar,” he presses as he rips your top open.

“Leave me alone!” “No, I’m done waiting around,” he husks, pulling your bra down. “Fuck!”

“Curtis-”

“You’re gonna shut the fuck up and you’re gonna enjoy everything daddy has to offer you,” he warns before dipping down and enveloping his right breast in his mouth; lewdly licking and sucking on it in the most depraved way.

“O-oh! Curtis!”

It’s been so long since you’ve been touched by anyone else.

“That’s right,” he mumbles before nipping on your nipple, while his other hand works on undoing your jeans, “I know exactly what you need, you little bitch.”

Your breathing comes heavier as his hand makes its way down into your panties, finding your overstimulated bundle of nerves.

“You’re fucking soaked!”

“Stop-”

“Stop fucking fighting me!” he warns, his other hand making it’s way around your throat. “You fucking want it! You’ve always fucking wanted it!”

You’re not sobbing because he’s doing something wrong, you’re sobbing because he’s right. Edgar would probably be alive if you’d just kept saying no to him.

“That’s right, baby. Just let me take care of you,” he moans, easily sliding a finger into you.

“Curtis,” you moan, bucking your hips forward.

“So beautiful, baby,” he coos, finally giving your other nipple attention, “waited so fucking long!”

“Oh fuck!”

You do your best to block out all images of Edgar and every feeling of guilt you felt. For whatever reason, Curtis wasn’t letting you go tonight and you didn’t want him to.

“You can barely take two fingers,” he groans, adding another thick finger to your sopping cunt as you rake your nails across his back. “Gonna have to get you ready for me. God, these fucking tits!” he husks.

“Please!” you whimper, feeling both pleasure and pain at the way he’s pulling you apart, “don’t fucking stop!”

“We’re gonna be at this a while,” he promises with a smirk as he picks up his pace. 

He resumes his assault on your left nipple for just a bit longer, before he finally starts leaving a trail of sloppy wet kisses down your body, pulling your pants down along the way. 

You’ve never had a guy go down on you before. Before you’d been put on the train, you’d only had sex twice and the both of you were inexperienced. When you were with Edgar, you two weren’t free to explore much. The most you’d been able to do was give him a blowjob, even that was uncomfortable.

“So fuckin’ pretty for me,” Curtis purrs against your pussy lips, “been waitin’ for me.”

The first lick is just a tease and you whine in protest, the second is right against your clit and whine his name as you dig your nails into his shoulders, and with the third he’s finally diving right in and claiming you as his own with his tongue.

“Oh God! Don’t fucking stop!” you beg pathetically, your legs starting to tremble as he massages your clit with his thumb. “Fuck!”

The sounds of his of his pornographic moans and roughness of his beard on your thighs somehow make you even more feral, and you can’t resist looking down. The sight of him buried between your legs has you biting on your bottom lip to keep from screaming. As if he can sense your feral gaze on him, you he looks up with a devilish glint in his ocean blue eyes, which have now darkened with twinges of desire and lust, as he starts fucking you faster with his tongue.

Your mouth hangs open and you’re right on the edge when he removes his tongue.

“What the fuck?!” you cry out and he chuckles darkly.

“I shouldn’t fucking let you cum at all,” he bites as he thrusts two fingers inside of you, causing you to buck your hips forward, “but I’m gonna get this tight little pussy ready for me,” he promises again.

The intrusion of a third finger has you throwing your head back in both pleasure and pain, and you try to push his hand away.

“None of that, fucking take it! Take it and then you’re gonna take my fucking cock,” he demands gruffly, applying more pressure to your clit with his thumb.

“Ngh- too much! Curtis please!”

“Then fucking cum! What, you don’t know how? Was it really that bad with him?” he taunts with a condescending chuckle.

You shouldn’t clench around his fingers the way you do at that.

“Not such a fucking saint after all, huh? Just a hungry little cock whore. Say it,” he demands lowly.

Biting down on your lip to keep quiet, you shake your head ‘no’.

Slapping one of your tits hard, he repeats, “say it!”

“ ‘m a cock whore!” you cry out, squirting hard and coating his wrist.

That’s new.

“Jesus fuck,” he growls.

He fucks you through your high, lapping up the mess you made, while you try to come down from your high. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know how wrong all of this is, but you can’t focus on that right now. The pleasure is all consuming, and you can’t think on anything other than how much you want Curtis.

How, in some dark and twisted way, you’ve always wanted Curtis.

The sound of him unzipping his pants brings you back to reality, and you know you’re going to hate yourself in the morning. Hell, you hate yourself now. 

“Don’t ever make me fight this fucking hard for you again, you understand me?” he warns, kicking his jeans and boxers off of him and your bed.

You watch him with wide eyes and it’s as if he can read your mind.

“Don’t you dare try and fucking run from me now. You’re mine, you’ve always been mine, and you’ll always be mine.”

He takes his angry red cock in his hand, stoking it a few times, before dipping down and kissing you like you’d finally been returned to him after years of being held captive. The taste of you and whiskey mix together perfectly, intoxicating you, and you moan into his mouth, as both of your tongues fight for dominance.

“You are mine,” he broods once you two break apart as he spears himself inside of you.

“Shit!”

He lets out a strangled groan, “gonna make you feel better than you ever have before!”

He’s relentless as he fucks into you, knowing exactly what you need as you trail kisses down his neck. 

“Y/N,” he whines when you find that spot on the crook of his neck, biting down on it hard before using your tongue to soothe the pain. “Fuck! What a good girl,” he praises and you flutter around his cock. “My pretty girl likes that? Being my good fuckin girl?”

You’ve never been so full in your life and the only response you can muster is a pathetic moan, sucking even harder on his neck. 

“That’s right, baby. Mark me up...make sure they know I’m yours,” he growls, using one hand to pin your waist down, while the other pins your hands down to the bed above your head.

You don’t even care that he’s using you as his own personal rag doll, because you need it. You both need it. So many years of anger, frustration, and denial have finally come to a head, and it feels good.

It feels so fucking good.

“Oh God! Daddy!” you cry out, wrapping a leg around his waist as he finds a spot within you that you didn’t even know existed.

“Fuck, there it is!”

“Too much!”

“No it’s not, you’re gonna make a mess for me again,” he demands as his movements start to become erratic. 

The hand he’s using to pin your waist to the bed travels down between the both of you, and you let out a choked sob as he starts to massage your clit.

“So beautiful, baby. Love you so fucking much,” he grunts, and you’re not sure if he means you or your pussy.

Your mind is so full of fog that you truly don’t give a fuck.

You turn your head away as you feel the knot in your core tighten and he whines, “look at me...waited so long, let me see you, baby. C’mon...let daddy see you come apart.”

Forcing your gaze on him, there’s something equally soft in his feral blue eyes, and you know you’re done for. No matter what you feel in the morning, you’ll want this again and again.

You’ll want him again and again.

A silent scream leaves your mouth as your orgasm washes over you, the leg around his waist falling to the side as you make a mess between the both of you.

“That’s a good girl...milk my fat fuckin’ cock, baby,” he groans, resting his forehead against yours as he paints your inner walls with his love.

Well, you’ve fucking done it now. 

He peppers soft kisses from your forehead to your cheek, as he rides out both of your highs, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he finally releases your arms. When he finally stills within you, half hard, you let your arms fall to your sides and close your eyes, feeling more full and desired than ever before.

Feeling more guilt than you ever have before.

You’re almost asleep when you hear, “clean daddy off, honey. We’re just getting started.”

He chuckles when he looks down at the confused look on your face.

“I told you: we’re gonna be at this for a while.”

You’re not sure what the hell has gotten into him, and why he’s so forceful tonight, but he keeps you up for hours in positions you’ve never even dreamed of. Exhausting your body over and over again, his lips covering every inch of your body that they can, and his hands exploring every part of you. It feels like heaven, and there’s a pitiful shame that washes over you with each orgasm. You lose count of how many times he tells you he loves you, and how perfect he thinks you are for him, and soon you’re just a mindless doll ready and willing to do anything he wants. You’ll give him anything as long as he continues to lessen the embarrassment that’s come with you finally giving yourself to him.

“That’s it, baby,” he grunts from behind as you lull your head back, “ride daddy’s dick just like that. Like a fucking cowgirl!”

“Ngh!”

“I know you’re tired,” he coos against your neck, his beard making you shutter as he strarts groping your breasts with both hands, “gonna fill your perfect little pussy one more time, I promise!”

The thought of you leaking with his release again has you clenching around him.

“You love being so full of me, don’t you?”

You just nod as you grip his thick thighs, digging your nails into them.

“I know, baby. Just needed daddy to show you who’s boss, didn’t you? Too ashamed to accept what I was so willing to give you,” he moans, kissing your neck as one of his hands travels between your thighs.

“DADDY!”

“So loud for me and I fucking love it! You’d never be this fuckin’ loud for him, would you?”

You lazily shake your head ‘no’.

“Didn’t deserve you...he couldn’t make you happy like I can. Like I always will,” he promises as he slaps your cunt.

That’s all it takes. You scream his name as your body spasms and you make a mess for what feels like the millionth time. He pulls you close, filling you to the brim, as your body relaxes against his.

“What a good girl,” he praises softly, his own breathing shallow as he guides your waist to ride out both of your orgasms.

You’ve never been so exhausted in your life.

You honestly have no control over your body at this point, so Curtis has to guide you off of him and onto the bed. You flinch when you feel some sort of fabric between your legs, cleaning you up.

“I know you’re sensitive, just a few more moments, baby,” he coos.

Well, he’s certainly much happier now that you’re a useless and mindless mess.

You feel the bed dip from behind you as he gets in, pulling the cover over the both of you before pulling you close to him. The fight that’s left in you isn’t enough to kill an ant. Instead, you just relax against him as you drift off into unconsciousness, hoping that all of this is just a very strong dream crafted from loneliness and desire.  

The last thing you hear before you succumb to darkness is, “I love you.”

~~

“Y/N,” a soft voice calls as a pair of hands shake your gently.

You blink a few times, coming back to reality and trying to separate your dreams from reality.

“Y/N? Curtis wants to see you in his room.”

Curtis.

All of a sudden the pain in your face and body catapult you back into reality. Shame washes over you, as well as an intense amount of guilt, and you curl into yourself. God, how could you give into him? How could you get off to some of the cruel and lewd things he said? What the fuck is wrong with you?

“Y/N? Did you hear me? Curtis-”

“No,” you respond softly, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself.

“He told me not to take ‘no’ for an answer,” the woman responds mournfully.

You say nothing, silently crying to yourself and wishing you were anywhere else. Wishing you could get away from your one true forbidden desire.

“Y/N, please,” the woman begs.

It’s not lost on you that she’ll more than likely have hell to pay, but you can’t face him. The more memories come flooding back, the more you want to the train to swallow you whole. To add insult to injury, arousal pools between your legs as desire takes over your body. What the hell came over the both of you last night, and why did you let it win? There was a time that you would’ve fought till the last breath in your body to keep Curtis off of you, but last night, you barely put up that much of a fight. You didn’t want to.

You hear your drawers open and what you assume are clothes landing on your bed, and you just pull the cover over your head. He got what he wanted out of you, so why can’t he leave you alone? What else could he want from you?

‘I love you.’

There’s no possible way he could’ve meant that. He was drunk. He treats every other woman on this train like his own personal pleasure toy, so what makes you any different? So special?

“What did I tell you last night about making me fight for you?”Curtis sighs as he walks into your room, closing the door shut behind him.

You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t even heard the woman leave.

  When you say nothing, he pulls the cover from you, “come on, Y/N. Don’t make me get forceful.”

You just pull your legs tighter to yourself and cry harder.

“What?”

“Please...just go away.”

“Y/N-” “You did it on purpose, Curtis. He loved you and you just...”

“You didn’t seem to mind that confession so much last night.”

“Which makes me just as awful as you if not worse,” you sob, once again realizing just how terrible you are. 

Edgar loved you unconditionally and you let the man responsible for his death fuck you like a beast, willingly giving him orgasm after orgasm.

“Honey,” Curtis tries to reason, going to touch your arm, but you pull away.

It’s insane how you can long for and hate someone’s touch so much at the same time.

Letting out another frustrated sigh, he pulls the cover back over your body and steps away, “fine.”

You can hear the pain in his voice, but he should feel like garbage. You both should. The sliding door to your room opens and closes again, and you’re finally on your own again. As you continue to cry, you if you’ll ever know peace again. If you aren’t, how long will it take you to allow yourself the comfort of Curtis?

Curtis’ P.O.V.

What the fuck is wrong with me? It’s not the first time I’ve gotten drunk and tormented you, but to attack you like that? Confess the truth in such a condescending way? Of course you want nothing to do with me now that the fog has cleared. Yes, what I did was fucked up, but I’ve been right about you since day one.

You wanted me all along.

It’s not like I didn’t care for Edgar, and he deserved more from me, but he didn’t deserve you. Watching him with you was like a knife to the chest every day. Hearing your moans and whimpers every night that he was inside you? Those were mine. They were for me. That’s why you always kept your eyes focused on me. You knew it just as well as I did. Maybe you’re the real monster in all of this, because you used him just as much as I envied him. 

You weren’t happy, you were never going to leave him, so I took charge. I didn’t expect for any of it to work out like it did, but it did nonetheless. I figured if I gave you enough time and space, you’d come to me, but my patience could only last so long. Venting to Nam night after night only helped so much. 

Two fucking years.

Two years of me watching you, two years of me making every other man on board afraid to get close to you, two years of me being a lesser version of myself...two years and you still never cracked. I have a fucking train to take care of, I couldn’t keep spending all of my time and energy just trying make you jealous enough to give him.

I was all set to let it go and let you do whatever the hell you wanted, until I walked past your train cart yesterday morning.

“Fuck Curtis...fuck me just like that,” you whimpered so softly, I thought I imagined it.

Looking into your room made me cum instantly. You were completely naked, eyes closed, head lulled back, and riding your pillow. You’d never looked so fucking hot before, and that was my name leaving your mouth. Not Edgar’s, mine. I no longer needed you to fucking say you were mine, but you’d just confirmed it.

“Gonna cum so soon, daddy! Fuck!”

I couldn’t get it out of my mind, and my frustration wouldn’t leave my body. Why the hell were you fighting something you so desperately wanted? 

Because you’re not a monster at all.

Even without my confession, you’d always known the truth. I could’ve saved Edgar, but I didn’t. I made a million excuses as to why I couldn’t, and everyone believed them. Everyone except you. Of course you wouldn’t allow yourself to be with me. Not without force. So, after I finished up everything I needed to take care, I got drunk. I had planned on being level headed, but you came in with that fucking attitude, and I fucking lost it.

How the hell were you annoyed with me? I made sure you had the best life, and you were still ungrateful. Once again, I could’ve saved Edgar, but you wouldn’t have left him. You would’ve married him and had his fucking his kids, and what right did he have to you? What right do any of the guys on this hell hole have to you? None of them will ever love you like I do, they’re not gonna satisfy you like I do, and they’re never gonna care for you like I do.

You just needed to be shown, so I decided that I was done waiting. I knew you’d put up a fight, but I didn’t expect it to get me so worked up. I didn’t mean to hit you so hard, but you were being difficult. Squeezing the stitches in my arm? You knew better than that. It wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped, but when you finally surrendered, it was more than worth it. You were a fucking dream, better than anything I’d ever had or imagined.

How could I feel bad about Edgar when I finally had you right where I wanted you? Where I’d always wanted you. I didn’t have to say all of things I did, but we both knew they were true. You’d always wanted me, he’d never truly satisfied you, and you’d always wanted me. Whatever your reasons were for choosing him over me didn’t matter anymore, because you finally admitted everything. Yeah, it bothered me that you never said ‘I love you’ back, but I also know I can’t have everything I want at once. I know you do, and when you’re ready, you’ll admit that too. 

“She’s not here,” Nam says softly, pulling me out of my thoughts as he enters.

“No, she’s back to hating me,” I mutter with an eye roll. “I did everything wrong.”

“Did you explain?”

“Nope, I did the exact opposite. I took what I wanted and expected her to fall in line.”

He lets out an irritated sigh as he runs a hand through his hair, “Curtis.”

“Yeah, I fucking know, alright?”

“What now?”

“I’ll go back and see her tonight. I’ll talk to her. She loves me, she just needs some encouragement to see it. To admit it.”

“Be gentle, Curtis. You get angry and you don’t think.”

He’s not wrong.

“Did you hurt her?”

“We both hurt each other, but it’s not like she didn’t like it.”

“Is that what happened to your arm?” he asks, pointing to the bruise.

I scoff with a nod, “yeah, little devil.”

“She’s tough, I’ll give her that,” he laughs, taking Kronole out of his pocket.

“Will you stop with that shit?!”

“You beat women, I get high,” he shrugs.

“I don’t beat women,” I quickly counter, trying to keep a lid on my anger.

I really didn’t mean to hit you so fucking hard. Fuck.

He just rolls his eyes, “Should I send Yona to look after her?”

“No, we have work to do and we need Yona and her ability. I’ll send one of the girls to check on her and give her food.”

I know I should be the one to do it but with how you were this morning, I know we’re basically right back where we started.

“Curtis, should I send for Y/N again?” Sansa asks, poking her head in, disdain dripping into her words.

I can see the pain in her eyes, but I can’t bring myself to feel bad. She may be a regular, but she always knew she wasn’t permanent. All of them know. 

“I’ll see to her later. Make sure no one comes in except Yona,” I instruct dismissively.

“Yes sir.”

Yeah, I’m an asshole, but I’m an asshole who’s in love with and made better by you. The sooner you see that, the sooner things will be as they should. In time, you’ll see.

In time, you’ll understand.

~~

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Here, take mine,” a deep soft voice told you.

You looked over to your right to see that Curtis had taken a seat next to you, and he was holding out his protein block.

You shook your head and pushed it away, “oh no, it’s perfectly fine-”

“You’re hungry-”

“What will you eat?”

“I don’t like the way they taste,” he shrugged.

You laughed to yourself, “no one likes the way they taste.”

“Won’t haunt you like the taste of human flesh though.”

He had a point there.

“Go on, take it,” he offered again.

“You have to eat something. We’re all barely hanging on as it is.”

“Y/N-”

You offered him a half smile, “we can split it.”

He contemplated your offer before he nodded, “deal.”

You miss that Curtis. The one who showed remorse for his actions, cared about those around him, and was actually trying to help everyone and not just himself. Ever since Gilliam took him under his wing, there was an heir of arrogance to him, and it made you want him that much less. It got worse after Edgar got killed and Gilliam soon followed.

God, how could you still fuck him after his confession? If anything, that should’ve made you fight harder. Instead, in a sick way, it turned you on even more because it showed you just how much he wanted you. How much he’d do to make sure you’d always be his and his alone. 

Maybe being on the train for so damn long that it’s fucked with you more than you thought, or maybe you’re just that awful.

The servers have been trying to feed you all day, but the only thing you’ve consumed is alcohol. It’s the only thing that’ll keep demons and thoughts of self-hatred at bay. Plus, for as much as you shouldn’t, you do feel bad for Curtis. The man told you he loves you a handful of times last night, brought you to euphoric bliss time and time again, and you let him hold you close last night, just so you could ice him out today.

As much as you don’t want to believe that the mad man loves you, somewhere deep down inside, you know it’s true. A man doesn’t let the closest person he has to a best friend die over someone he doesn’t love. Yes, you knew Edgar could get on his nerves sometimes, but never enough for Curtis ever want something truly awful to happen to him. It’s not like you ever meant for things to become a sick and twisted games, but they had and the end result was the sweetest man you’d ever known getting killed.

All of this was your fault.

“You haven’t eaten today,” a soft voice rings out, stepping into your room.

“Please go, Curtis. You got what you wanted. Just go, I’m sure Sansa and the others will be happy to keep you company tonight.”

He sits down in front of you and takes your face in his hands, “I don’t love Sansa and the others.”

“Curtis-”

“Why have you been crying all day?”

You’re more than sure the look on your face screams, ‘really?’.

“It’s not like it was something you didn’t already know-”

“Stop being so fucking callous about it!”

“Why? I’d do it again, honey. I have no problem admitting that. If I had to do it all over again, I would without hesitation.”

“What the fuck is the matter with you?!”

“I love you, Y/N. I think I’ve made that pretty clear for some time now, and I’m not going to watch you be with some other man. I don’t give a fuck who that man is.”

“You can literally have whoever else you want-”

You yelp when he effortlessly picks you up and pulls you into his lap.

“The world could be the way it’s supposed to be and I still wouldn’t want anyone else. You were meant for me and I was meant for you. If people have to die for you to understand that, then so be it. I will never love anyone the way I love you, so stop thinking that this is just some fling to me,” he warns, his gaze on you tense and serious.

His words should make you afraid of him but, instead, they make you want him more than you did the night before.

“You don’t-”

“Who else do you want me to make disappear, hmm? How do I make you believe me?”

“Curtis...stop.”

“I love you.”

“That’s not love-”

“Why should I go about this the normal way? We’ve all had to fight to stay here, and I’m willing to fight for you. I will always fight for you because you’re mine, just like I’m yours. I love you.”

For now, you’ll just blame the alcohol as you lean in and kiss him softly. Just like the night before, he runs one of his hands through your hair and grips it tight as he deepens the kiss, his other arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you as close as possible.

He broods against your lips once you two break apart, “that’s right, baby. You’ll always be mine.”

“This isn’t right-” “Who gives a fuck about right and wrong when it feels this fucking good?”

“Curtis...”

“Just give into me,” he pleads before kissing you again, “give into me because you love me just as much as I love you.”

Once again, the fight leaves your body and you’re just giving into what you want. You kiss him deeply as your legs wrap around his waist, grinding against him. 

“That’s it honey,” he breathes with a moan, the tip of his nose ghosting over the outline of your cheek. “I won’t take anything you don’t wanna give me. Just like last night.”

You know good and damn well he’s saying that because last night he did force himself on you, but you both knew you were desperate for it. You both know you’ve been desperate for him for a while. It’s evident that he wants you to acknowledge that, but he’s gonna need to work a little harder for that. 

“If you truly love me, then show me,” you sigh as he bites and sucks on your neck. “Show me how much you need me to be yours.”

You must have awakened something feral in him because, instantly, he’s picking you up and standing up with almost no effort at all, and carrying you out of your room, quickly make his way towards his. Part of you wants to protest, because you’ve seen what he’s done with other women in his bed, but another part of you is desperate for it because it is his bed. Anyone else who was on it before you won’t ever matter again, because you’re all he needs.

He growls as he tosses you onto his bed, “take your fucking shirt off before I rip it off.”

You honestly don’t need much prompting. Between the amount of alcohol coursing through you, and the desire that you’ve been suppressing for years, you’re once again willing and ready to do anything that he wants. You whimper when he pulls his off and tosses it to the side, quickly getting to work on undoing his pants.

Yeah, you’re still sore from yesterday, but the pleasure always outweighs. You’ll take aspirin after.

“I thought I already fucking showed you,” he husks roughly, fitting your legs around his waist once on the bed and on his haunches. “I didn’t get my point across last night?”

You bite your lip and shake your head no, holding his gaze as you wrap your arms around him. 

He smirks as that devilish glint comes back to his eyes, “let me be firmer this time,” forcing you down on his cock.

“AH SHIT!”

He keeps a firm hold on your waist as he starts bouncing you up and down on his cock, “you’re mine, Y/N. Always have been and you always will be!”

You cry out as you lull your head back, “oh fuck, daddy!”

“Eyes on me, baby. Gonna make sure it sinks in this time,” he chuckles darkly.

Honestly, all you can do is hold on to him, and he doesn’t even make that easy. He spits on your cunt a few times before easily wrapping one arm behind your waist to keep you in place, and shamelessly slapping your clit with the other hand.

“Please....please!”

His condescending chuckle only makes you clench around him, “fucking pathetic.”

He dips down, the tip of his tongue lightly licking between your breasts and moaning as he licks up the sweat, before latching his mouth onto your right nipple and sucking on it as if it’s his favorite lollipop to exist.

You whimper, feeling safe in his strong hold, as you run a hand through his buzzed hair, “feels so good, daddy! The way you love me feels so good!”

Releasing your nipple with a ‘pop’, he looks up with brooding dark eyes, “and no one else will ever make it feel this good,” he promises.

Without warning, he starts massaging your clit with more pressure than you’re prepared for, and you’re screaming out his name as you make a mess between the both of you.

“So messy and all mine,” he praises, his voice strained as continues to fuck up into you. “Always been all mine, haven’t you?”

Once again, you’ve been turned into a mindlessly babbling toy.

“No answer?” he taunts, his breathing as he stops all together, laughing sadistically at your pathetic whimper. “Guess daddy still hasn’t made his point clear.”

He drops you down onto the bed, flips you over with ease, fixes your knees so your ass is propped in the air, before thrusting himself inside of you again.

“Aht!”

“You’ve always been mine, haven’t you?” he growls, fucking into hard and fast.

You just whimper into his pillow as claw at his bed, but he isn’t having that. Wrapping one arm around your waist and snaking it up between your breasts, he grips your throat while the other hand grips your hair tight, and he pulls you right.

“Use your fucking words,” he demands gruffly, fucking into you harder, “you’ve always been mine?”

“Y-yes!”

“Yes who?”

“Y-yes...y-y-yes daddy!”

“Always gonna be mine?”

“A-an-anything you w-want!”

He growls into your neck as you feel him spill into you, “fuck baby!”

Once again, there’s nothing going through your mind but fog and your body is exhausted. If he wants more from you, you’ll give it to him, but you can honestly fall asleep in his hold right now. He loosens his grip on your neck, and you take a deep breath, not even realizing how tight he’d been holding onto you. Lazily fucking you both through your high, he presses small, wet, open mouthed kisses along your neck.

His breath comes heavy and he sounds just as tired as you feel, “get the message this time?”

You nod as weakly attempt to fight off sleep, “mhm, you love me.”

The next question comes with a hint of fear, “do you believe me?”

“Mhm, yes.”

“Do you love me?”

The answer comes effortlessly, “yes Curtis.”

He’s gentle with you as he pulls out, growling as he watches the mix of your juices run down your thighs, and he lays you down. Once again, you wince when some fabric gently wipes over your extremely raw and sensitive flesh, and he gently hushes you. This time, when he gets in bed with you, you’re pulling him close and resting your head on his chest.

You’re too tired to fight it.

“I love you,” you repeat before effortlessly falling asleep.

~~

Once again, when you make up, you need a moment to adjust to your surroundings. The soreness is quicker to make your acquaintance this time, and you remember that you’re in Curtis’ room.

The very front of the train.

That’s when you realize you’re alone in his bed, and you’re slow to sit up and look around.

“I’m here,” he calls softly.

You look to the side and see him sitting across the room, sweatpants on only, hunched over, and resting his head on his hands.

“You should lay back down, I’m sure you’re sore.”

You keep your eyes on him as you slowly lay back down, “what’s wrong?”

He’s not wrong about you being sore. 

“Nothing-”

Scoffing as you prop yourself up on your elbow and rest your head on your hand, “you’re gonna start lying to me after the last two days we’ve spent together?” and he laughs softly.

“It doesn’t matter right now-”

“Curtis, what’s wrong?”

There’s a softness to his features, and it’s a softness you haven’t seen in a long time.

“I love you.”

You look down and play with the hem of the bed sheet.

“That’s the problem right there.”

“Curtis-” He sighs as he sits up, “I’m not complaining.”

“It’s not so easy for me, okay?”

“It was last night when you were drunk, and I fucking knew better. I knew better, but my emotions...” “There’s a lot that I have to come to terms with, and I’ve only had two days to do it.”

“Well, do you?” “Curtis-”

“It’s a simple yes or no question-”

“It’s not simple! I was with Edgar, and no matter how I may or may not have always felt about you, I did love him and you let him get killed. No, I’m not innocent in all of this, but he loved and trusted him and you betrayed him.”

“That was different-” “How? How am I supposed to know you won’t ever do something like that to me?”

“Because this is different! This isn’t even remotely close...since I laid eyes on you, I knew that you were meant for me, and I for you. I may have been 17, but I’d never been so sure of anything in my life. I still haven’t been,” he states, slightly hurt that you would even make a claim like that. “I know what I did was fucked up, that’s not lost on either of us, and I’ve done my best to show and prove to you that I’m sorry, because it wasn’t right. Edgar didn’t know, but you did. You knew and you felt the same for me.”

“Curtis-”

“Well you did, you can deny it all you want, but we both know it’s true.”

“It doesn’t matter-” “Well, why you’d pick him?”

You scowl and lay on your back, “you don’t want the honest answer to that question.” “I can handle it.” “Lets not-”

“Just tell me!’

“I really don’t think I need to, Curtis! There’s something wrong with you! Something in you is unhinged and it shows!” you snap, sitting up and facing him.

He sits back and lets out a heavy sigh, and it breaks your heart, but he’s the one who wants to know so bad. 

When he says nothing, you continue, “there’s something that flips a switch in you, and this darkness comes over you. You’re moody, argumentative, and violent. Anything can set it off and, while I get it to an extent, enough shit had happened and I didn’t want to deal with it. You would be so soft with me at times, but you could easily lose your temper with anyone else...with the exception of Gilliam. Edgar was kind, funny, and sweet. No, it wasn’t ideal, but I felt safe with him and I didn’t have to worry about him losing his shit on me. So yes, I had feelings for you, but I chose him. I know you took him under your wing out of guilt, but you were also jealous. The more he trusted you, the more you took advantage of that. It made me resent him. Then, when he went off with you for the uprising, I knew he wasn’t coming back. You wouldn’t let him.”

You can see the anger in his eyes, but he knows that he can’t call you a liar. Everything you’re saying is true and he’s not about to try and make a fool out of you.

“I did it for you,” he responds after a moment. “You don’t have to believe it, and I know you didn’t see it, but I did it for you. I’ve always wanted to keep you safe, take care of you, and have you by my side. Everything I’ve done has been for you, and while some of it has been less than humane, I’d do it again if it meant you could be happy. If it means you can have a better life, I’ll do it, and I don’t care who I have to hurt.”

“Curtis-”

“I don’t care how crazy any of it sounds, because you have to be crazy to survive in this world. I’d do anything to give you a better life and see you happy. I love you, Y/N,” he tells you softly and sincerely.

You shouldn’t feel an overwhelming amount or love and joy for him, but that doesn’t stop it from washing over you. Is there a shrink on this fucking train, because you both need your fucking heads examined.

“I’ll ask you again, do you love me?”

Slipping out before you have a chance to stop it, “yes. Yes Curtis, I love you.”

Your heart swells at the small smile that comes to his face, as he finally gets up and makes his way back to the bed, and gets in next to you. You ignore the shameful amount of guilt that overcomes you, because what happened in the past can’t be changed. All that counts is right now and the future you and Curtis will create together. 

You rest your head on his chest and make little circles it, “how are you so sure, Curtis?”

“So sure of what?” he asks, stroking your shoulder and finally relaxing.

“That you love me. How do you know it’s not just an overwhelming sense of lust?”

He laughs to himself and kisses the top of your head, “because when all the fog in my mind settles, there’s still a burning desire for you in my heart. A burning desire to protect you, make you happy, hear your voice, see you smile, and to love you until there’s no breath left in my body. When the fog clears, there’s always a desire to love you with everything I have in me.”

Pressing a soft kiss to his chest, you look up at him, “I’m sorry it took me so long to finally get here.”

“You don’t have to say you’re sorry, just promise to never leave.”

“I promise.”

“I love you, honey.”

“I love you, Curtis.” 

[who-datgirl]

Who IS Ruby Sunday?

My head is spinning over the secret identity of 15’s companion. Ruby is only in one season as Millie Gibson, something very important will have to happen to have her only appear in 8 episodes. At first I wondered if maybe Ruby was The Master hiding in plain sight as a human. Davies confirmed recently that The Master is taking a break from the plot, so that knocked them out of the running for Ruby’s identity. I am left with one headcanon that, regardless of it winds up true or not, exists rent-free in my mind.

I believe Ruby Sunday is the child of 12 and River Song. I think during their 24 years on Darillium, River wound up pregnant. Once she realized she was carrying The Doctor’s child, she took the TARDIS while 12 was busy with something (In the Husbands of River Song special she confirms that she often steals the TARDIS with The Doctor none the wiser). River carried out her 9 months of pregnancy in secret and used the Chameleon Arch on newborn Ruby. The TARDIS then chose the coordinates that landed her at the church on Ruby Road on Christmas Eve (A clue chosen by the TARDIS for The Doctor since River and 12’s time on Darillium started on Christmas Day). River then popped the TARDIS back on Darillium mere seconds after she left and lived out her remaining happy years with The Doctor, with the truth about Ruby weighing on her heart.

Why would River do this? Simple. The TARDIS is no place to raise a newborn. The Doctor would have stopped running and settled down on Earth to raise Ruby. River knew her time was almost up, but with a child The Doctor would have continued his 24-year vacation and extended it into Ruby’s adulthood. River loves The Doctor for their gallivanting around the universe and saving countless worlds through their travels. The thought that an untold amount of stars in the sky would vanish without The Doctor’s help broke River’s heart: “Maybe The Doctor would never have travelled again” was her fear. Rather than raising Ruby out of a mix of love for Ruby and grief for River, River chose to let The Doctor’s grief of River be their fuel for saving worlds instead. Also, River figured by letting a Ruby live a human life on Earth she would get a quiet and good life that is without Daleks, Cybermen, The Yssgaroth, Weeping Angels, and all the other horrors that The Doctor and his companions deal with. For anyone interested in seeing how I imagine 15 and River’s confrontation about Ruby playing out, I will post a dialogue I wrote between them at the end of this post.

NOW, onto the little easter eggs that I have noticed so far that give credence to Ruby being River’s child:

15’s run has had a ton of talk with Ruby about family and being adopted, The Doctors biological ties are definitely a theme of the season.

Ruby’s initials are R.S. Same as River Song.

As mentioned above, Ruby is born Christmas Eve. 12 and River’s time on Darillium began Christmas Day. The TARDIS chooses coordinates that best suit a Time Lord/Time Lady when a Chameleon Arch is used. I believe The TARDIS chose that time and place as a clue for The Doctor to eventually find Ruby.

Coincidence seems to be forcing Ruby and The Doctor together. Almost as if 15 is the answer to her question about who her actual parents are.

When viewing Ruby’s memory, her hooded mother points at 15 which alters the memory. River and The Doctor’s connection has been shown to transcend laws of time and space before (I.e. 11 being able to see River on Trenzalore and even kiss her projection from the Library).

There is such a pervasive theme of music between 15 and Ruby. The Christmas special kicks this off with a fun musical number which seems innocent enough. Since then, all the talk of music has caused the words “Melody” and “Song” to come up quite a few times in the latest season. The Devil’s Chord episode to me felt like a slap in the face with deliberate wordplay. Timothy Blake begins the episode by discussing melody with Henry Arbinger (and Melody is River’s birth name). Towards the end of the episode Maestro finds “A hidden SONG” in Ruby’s soul. If she is River’s daughter that would literally be her last name.

I listened to the hidden song in Ruby’s soul that she sings before the Christmas music several times. Melodically it is quite similar to the melancholy tune “sung” by the Towers of Darillium in the “Husbands of River Song” special.

In “BOOM” the ambulance could not identify 15 properly as a life form. The ambulance had the same error when trying to identify Ruby’s next of kin.

I think if I am correct, once restored to a Time Lady Ruby gets fatally wounded and regenerates into the next season’s companion. This is why Millie Gibson is only in one season. I think Ruby lives on, just as the new actress Varada Sethu (Also Millie and Varada are both credited in next season’s first episode, perhaps we see the regeneration then?)

Is there any truth to this theory? Ultimately, that is up to Davies. As I said before, for me it will live as true in my head rent-free regardless.

As promised, my headcanon confrontation between 15 and River at the church on Ruby Road

*15 stands in front of the hooded figure on Ruby Road, demanding that she pull down her hood*

15: I know who you are! I know who Ruby is. I just have one question that I cannot understand……..*tears forming in 15’s eyes* WHY…..River…..

*The hooded figure pulls down her hood, revealing the saddened expression of Professor River Song*

River: Hello, sweetie.

15: Why River, why did you hide her away from me?!

River: Do I need to make you a list of reasons a baby on the TARDIS is a horrible idea? Traveling the way you do is no place for a child. And that was my greatest fear. I know that for you, you lost me long ago. If, if you knew we had a child. You would’ve stopped immediately. You’d do the one thing you’d never do in a million years.

15: *Angrily* What’s so —

River: You’d stop running, Doctor. You’d park your TARDIS on some corner of London. You’d sweet talk yourself into a quaint home, in some quiet city. You and her would spend years on Earth while she learns to walk, to speak. Long enough that the day would come that she’s old enough to ask why she doesn’t have a mother. I couldn’t do that, but not just to her or you. Do you have any idea how many worlds would see their final dawn if you are not around to pop in and interrupt some horrible disaster? Why, I couldn’t risk every star in the sky going out due to some mix of love for our child and grief for me!

So I did what was best for her, and best for the universe. I used the arch. I landed here. A time and place where she would grow up to be loved and to have one thing neither of us ever had, a normal life. I gave her the gift of a life free from Daleks, from collapsing stars, from the cold of space. I did that, and then I hid her time lord essence in the safest place I could, the one place you’d never go. Nine months have passed for me but for The Doctor on Darillium, I will return after a few seconds. We still have a few more years to go in the long night, and you haven’t a clue I left. You’re the smartest man I’ve known, but also the stupidest.

15: Well the universe didn’t seem to want us to be apart did it?! Coincidence pushed and pushed until I found her, or she found me, I’m not even sure which happened first. Everywhere we went together there was children, mystery, belonging, family all practically forced into my view. I was the answer to her question. Every time she asked who were real parents were, coincidence nudged my foot in her direction. It nudged and nudged until we found each other, and then the answer to her heart’s song screamed itself out in silence. I was meant to be in her life and I got there…..it, it was just the long way around.

River: In my heart I knew, if anyone could find her with no clue to go on, it would be you. I don’t regret the actions I took to hide her, but I’m so glad you are with her now. You, at least, can know her. My diary is out of pages. I don’t have any room for adventures with my daughter. You Doctor, you have all of time and space. Show it to her! If the universe doesn’t want our daughter to live a life of domestic bliss on Earth, teach her to be the Time Lady that she’s clearly meant to be. For the first time in a long while, you don’t have to be the only one of your people on the TARDIS. You finally don’t have to be alone in this universe, and for that I am so happy.

**The Doctor gently grabs River, holding her in his arms**

15: River…if I could do anything to save you, you know—

**River wipes away her tears and slowly backs away after the embrace**

River: Oh sweetie. Hush now. You and I both know how this works. We’re always rushing by each other in reverse. You have the beginning of the rest of your life with her ahead of you. Me? Well……all I have is the time with you on Darillium. I really must be getting back. Eventually you’ll stop entertaining yourself or impressively monologuing to some poor sap on that planet and notice that the TARDIS is gone. I must be back before then.

**Rivers walks into the distance, fading into the darkness of Christmas Eve night. A lone stream of light appears as she opens the 12th Doctor’s TARDIS. River takes one last look at baby Ruby on the church steps, and then one last look at 15**

River: Until next time Doctor.

15: NEXT time? Wait, River. How in Earth do you mean?

*River grins widely at The Doctor, and says one word before shutting the TARDIS door*

River: Spoilers

*15 stares a long while at the now vacant space of their former lifetime’s TARDIS until the glimmer of an idea appears in their eyes. 15 dashes to their TARDIS. 15 slows their approach as they go deeper and deeper into the halls of the space-and-time-ship until they stop at the door. This is the one door on the TARDIS they refuse to walk by, to even think about. With tears forming in their eyes, they open the door for the first time in centuries. Cautiously they walk into the bedroom that 12 and River shared in their time on Darillium. The room’s lights slowly hum on, the bed still unmade on the side River slept so her imprint can be seen in the sheets. Atop her pillow, rests a Time Lord’s pocketwatch. 15 opens it and hears the hum of a Time Lord soul. Inside it are two holographic pictures, one on each side of the watch: one of River, one of the 12th Doctor. On the bottom of the watch 15 can see something inscribed in the Gallifreyan tongue. It reads a name: Amelia Song*

[morporkian-cryptid]

Something I really like with The Mountain Goats is that a lot of songs are at first very cryptic, or seem a bit boring because they’re very descriptive and factual; until somewhere around the end, one line suddenly puts everything else into perspective, and the meaning of the song punches you in the gut.

Take “Picture of my dress" for example. The whole song follows a woman’s road trip, in a very mundane and descriptive way: a truck stop parking lot, smoking a cigarette with a stranger, a greasy sandwich in a diner, listening to the radio. And taking a picture of her dress. Why is she taking a picture of her dress? We don’t know, we can only follow her on this road trip, watching in from the outside and getting no context.

Right up until “I only wore it once, nine years ago”.

There’s only one kind of dress you would only wear once and then keep for a long time. A wedding dress.

And suddenly everything else makes so much more sense. She just got divorced. She’s running away from her old life, from the memories; or she’s looking for something. Trying to put into perspective the decision she made nine years ago; trying to find what the old her saw in that dress, in that marriage; or trying to find something she had back then and has lost since. The road trip is the path to healing, with ups and downs and mundane days and painful reminiscing and trying to see the good in the past too.

The last verse of the song gives more explanation about her goal, but you still wouldn’t really understand it without the “it’s a wedding dress” line. I’m gonna quote the end of the song; I have nothing to add about it, but I find it absolutely gorgeous and it lives rent-free in my head.

But I say some prayers above the engine I bless everything there is to bless Run out of gas in the middle of nowhere anyway Stand by the roadside smiling

This is something I noticed more recently when listening to older songs, specifically “No I can’t” from Bitter Melon Farm. It’s a very formulaic, repetitive song: You brought me this, and that, and this, thank you for this, and that, and this, now I have everything I need. Repeat and fill in the blanks with increasingly expensive objects.

At first I thought that “Now I have everything I need” was sarcastic. Like “oh wow thank you for this gift you are so thoughtful I don’t know how I could have lived my whole life without it – oh wait I did and it was completely fine”, like, who are you to know what I need. What am I gonna do with all this useless stuff.

Until “Thank you for the coat I forgot to mention; I’ve been freezing in here, I’ve been freezing in here”.

It’s not so much the words themselves rather than the way they are sung, with both despair and realization. I don’t know if this is what the song really means, but this is what I understand from the way this line reframes the rest. This is someone who is learning to live again. Someone who doesn’t know how to take care of themselves and has been surviving on the bare minimum for so long they never realized they might need or even want more. Someone who loves them is bringing them gifts – first just polite ones: candies and flowers; then useful ones: a sofa, a lamp, a filing cabinet; then entertaining ones: a puppy, books, a radio. Each time the narrator thanks them as if following a script, not really knowing what to say, and concludes that they nowhave everything they need. And every time the other person gives them something else, and now the narrator has everything they need, because they realize they were missing this thing they just received. This other person is trying to fill the narrator’s life with things that will make their life easier, more enjoyable. The small joys and the small helps that make life more than just surviving.

The last gift is a friendly presence, and a realization. The friend comes to visit, and lets the wind in, and reminds the narrator of the cold – they don’t have to stand there in this cold apartment, freezing, they can put a coat on. And that’s when the narrator realizes they were freezing. They hadn’t noticed before, because they don’t pay attention to their needs, they just make do with what they have without even considering that things could be better. This realization is the first step in healing. And the friend doesn’t push or tell them explicitly what they need. The friend just gives them things to help them, asking nothing in return and letting them slowly realize for themself that yes, this is useful, this is helpful, this is comforting, I needed this. I may need more. I can have more. My life can be better. Even small things help.

And I find it absolutely amazing how TMG can pack so much into such a simple and seemingly nonsensical song.

[chrollohearttags]

i'm not sure if you've done this already, but who is a celebrity you think eren would have beef/a scandal with? and what would it be for😭?

😭 I hadn’t actually but it’s been in my head rent free. I feel like his beef would be with someone who’s either extremely popular but not an established name if that makes sense. Think an obnoxious one hit wonder like SixNine, Lil Pump, etc. somebody who’s real mouthy but ain’t got the talent or money to play with him and they’d try to name drop EJ the Don for clout. And he wouldn’t address them in a live or nothing, he’d take it straight to the booth and have them crying and throwing up. And because Eren is notorious for sampling and being petty, he’d sample their song, do a freestyle and outsell/trend them. Or honest to goodness, I feel like he would beef with somebody like Drake. Who has a bad habit of name dropping a lot of women and with (y/n) being bad as hell and so popular, he’d try to mention her on some slick shit and Eren would have to pull a Pusha T. Make that man go on a year long hiatus 😭. Other than that, he really be minding the business that pays him.

[unboundndd]

I just wanted to say that your recent heartsteel yone piece has been living rent free in my mind FOR DAYSSSS !!! Oh it’s so cute how he’s so nervous to meet the reader and didn’t even eat and then they went on a cute date together (how do you think that went by the way?)

AAAAAA IM SO IN LOVEEEEEE THANK YOU FOR THE FOOD 🫶

aaaaAAa thank you so so much dear anon you’re very kind… i have to admit that Heartsteel Yone has been in my mind for who knows how long. I will elaborate on their date because that’s so so cute i love my bashful, boomer, bandmom katana welding husband!❤️

(Also replying to this on the go so sorry for the bad formatting)

Reader totally did not expect to be dragged out on a date by THE Yone from Heartsteel! For most of the car ride they are still a bit nervous and starstruck, it’s hard to think that for the majority of the year they were talking to one of their idols while being unaware of his identity.

Yone is so caring and understanding though, few words are shared in his car but he lets you be a passenger princess by making you choose all the songs you want, of course at a certain you try to put some of the music that made you bond at the start of your relationship. Yone is a very responsible driver so he tends not to get distracted but you can tell from his expressions that the song are having an effect on him as well.

Once you finally got out of the traffic that would inevitably form itself after a concert it didn’t take much to get to the ramen place Yone suggested. Conversation between you and him will slowly go back to normal after the server takes your order and you finally are able to ask him all the questions that had been buzzing in your head. You could listen to him talk for hours and even though Yone tries to keep the conversation lighthearted he admits to feeling guilty about not telling you who he really was and how certain days he was so tempted to reveal everything, especially when you would gush about him in your chats.

He also tells you how the other members are to blame for your secretly arranged meeting, how Aphelios spotted him talking to you on discord and eventually spilled the beans to Sett first and then everyone else. He also told you how Kayn could not contain his laughter when he found out what was going on and that before the meet and greet Ezreal gave him a pep talk! The mental image of an extremely concentrated Yone being glued at his phone all day made you chuckle, in a way it reflected what had happened to you since after you started talking more your heart would leap every time you heard the discord notification sound.

Now that Yone was fully relaxed, he was finally ready to dig into his food… more like pounce onto it like a starved man. At a certain point you even offered to share some of the gyozas with him and watched his face light up slightly, it made you wonder if dinner was the only meal he skipped out of nervousness.

Whenever he’d try to give you an apologetic look you’d remind him how much of a workaholic he was and how you under your watch he would be taking care of himself. After that you ordered another portion of gyozas for the two of you to share and Yone was glad you had temporarily turned your head the other way, he needed to compose himself and quit blushing so hard.

You’d always imagined that Yone would be a huge gentleman, his interactions with his fans were always so kind and insightful if needed but he really upped his antics with you. He would take your hand to help you up from your chair, put your coat on for you and even pay dinner for both! You wanted to thank him but for Yone this was his way of repaying you for being the one who always would cheer for him.

You would have to initiate most physical affection, Yone is the type of person to relish in the slightest touches of hands but never pursue anything more, his nervousness coming back whenever he felt the need to get closer to you. You find out how much he actually loves to hold hands and hugs, after you ask for one he’s the one who doesn’t let go even if you’re leaning on the dirty walls of a not very lit alley and it’s starting to rain. At least you’re comfortable though, your head is leaning against Yone’s chest and his coat and body provide more than enough heat to keep you nice and warm. You feel a bit dizzy from the sensations: Yone’s cologne, the crisp smell of his fresh shirt and the beat of his heart all make you melt further onto him.

He’s also such a good kisser even though it’s obvious he holds back at first. Despite wanting to show you more of what his feelings for you are he also wants to make sure you are comfortable throughout your date and that he’s not pushing your boundaries. He’ll also be the most attentive and responsible boyfriend ever, after your first date you can always call him whenever you need advice about anything ranging from finances to help with doing things like configuring the new router you bought. After every date Yone will ALWAYS make sure to drive you back home, especially once your relationship becomes more public.

[chvoswxtch]

court, i hope you’re doing well!! this has been such a great tour! i would like to scan my ticket for midnights <3

i was thinking of halsey’s ya’aburnee with billy 🤭

But what’s worse?

Telling you my feelings

Or to die without revealing

That you crawled inside my head

And set a fire there instead?

thank you so much sweet nonnie!

you must live inside my head rent free bc halsey is one of my absolute favorite artists and iichliwp is my favorite album of hers and I LOVE this song

bc I am biased this is way over 500 words but I don't think you'll mind ;)

thank you so much for joining the tour!!!

blurb below the cut

ya'aburnee (billy's version)

but what’s worse? / telling you my feelings or to die without revealing / that you crawled inside my head and set a fire there instead?

Having to watch Billy flirt with every woman he came in contact with was difficult. Any woman that even simply walked past him was immediately entranced by his spell. You couldn’t blame them. Billy was unfairly attractive, radiated confidence that was just far enough away from arrogance, and a sharp mind filled with an endless supply of candied words that were as smooth as his alluring cadence.

Everytime he paused your conversation, or turned his attention away from you to focus on a pretty girl that had walked by, bothered you. Whenever he left your side at a function, or during a friendly outing that was supposed to be reserved for only the two of you, it left your heart gashed with a stinging sense of betrayal at his selfishness.

Because you were in love with him.

You weren’t exactly sure when it happened, but one day you started to see him in a new light. You found yourself changing outfits at least three times before going to meet up with him, and getting nervous when he flashed you his signature charming grin. The scent of his cologne started to make you feel lightheaded, and when the two of you went out for drinks or dinner, you imagined you were on a date with him.

Of course, that all got interrupted when an attractive woman came around and then your fantasy was quickly combusted.

You couldn’t bring yourself to tell Billy the truth, because he was your best friend. And you saw how he was when he wanted someone. He went after them without hesitation.

But in the two years that you had known him, Billy had only playfully flirted with you, and you soon found out that was just his personality. He was like that with everyone. It didn’t mean anything to him like it did to you.

Eventually it got too difficult to even be around him, so you started distancing yourself. You didn’t reply eagerly to his texts anymore. You barely answered his calls. Whenever he invited you out, you quickly came up with an excuse not to go. It was devastating not to spend time with him, and a part of you felt guilty and selfish for lying to him, but you were determined that it was what was best for you. And Billy let you get away with it.

For all of five days.

While you were snuggled up on your couch with a blanket watching a movie and wondering why your life couldn’t be like an 80’s romcom, the sound of your front door slamming shut made you jump, and you snapped your head around to see Billy standing right in front of it staring at you.

And he looked pissed.

“Alright, what’s goin’ on?”

You were so surprised by his sudden intrusion, that his question sent you down a rabbit hole of confusion. Pausing your movie, you sat up on your knees and turned around to stare at him over the back of your couch with slightly furrowed brows.

“What do you mean?”

Billy tossed his keys onto the side table next to your front door and instantly shed his dark gray suit jacket, stalking over towards you while loosening the maroon tie from around his neck.

“You told me you had plans tonight.”

The accusatory tone in his voice softened your features into an expression of remorse, and you glanced down at the couch cushions and you tried to fumble out a believable explanation.

“I-”

“But that was a lie, clearly. Which leads me to think that every other time you’ve blown me off the past five days has also been a lie. You barely reply to my texts, you hardly answer my calls, it’s obvious you’re ignornin’ me. So I’ll ask again; what’s goin’ on? What happened between us?”

The volume of Billy’s voice combined with the heart you could hear in the undertone of it made your heart ache. He was audibly, and visibly upset. Letting out a deep exhale, you decided to respond honestly.

“Nothing.”

Billy narrowed his obsidian eyes at your one word response, and reached out his hand to firmly grasp your jaw to force you to look up at him.

“Don’t give me that shit. Tell me the truth.”

“That is the truth, Billy. Nothing happened between us.”

Bill’s angry glare suddenly morphed into puzzlement, and his grasp on your chin softened. Now he was the one that was confused. 

“Did I…do somethin’ wrong?”

“You mean like ignoring me or wandering off completely anytime a pretty girl is around, when it’s supposed to be just us?”

Billy’s eyes widened slightly at the venom in your voice, and his lips parted slightly in surprise when you shoved his wrist away. He’d never seen you upset like this before, and you suddenly didn’t feel bad for how you had treated him anymore. It was nothing like the way he had hurt you.

Getting down from your couch, you started to furiously pace back and forth as you let out a humorless laugh and finally let everything you had been feeling lately out.

“You know Billy, I can’t figure out what’s worse. That I fell in love with you and have to watch you flirt with anything that has a heartbeat in your general vicinity, or not being able to tell you because you make it abundantly clear that you don’t really give a shit about me every single time you abandon me to fulfill your own selfish needs. I’ve been ignoring you because it’s painful to even be around you. Because you are all that I think about. You’ve taken up every ounce of space in my head, and you’ve-”

A surprised gasp was caught in your throat as Billy cut you off by cupping your face in his hands gently and pressing a tender kiss to your lips. He pulled away slowly to stare at your shocked expression with a faint smirk on his lips.

“Just so we’re clear, I’ve been wanton’ to do that since I met you.”

“What?”

“I thought you were the one not interested in me.”

“Why the hell didn’t you ever say anything?”

Billy’s smirk melted away, and there was a vulnerable look in his dark brown eyes.

“Because I didn’t wanna lose you, darlin’.”

As everything he said finally clicked in your head, you felt a fresh surge of annoyance flow through your bloodstream.

“Goddamnit, William Russo. I can’t stand you.”

Before he could respond, you grabbed onto his tie and tugged him close while crashing your lips together in a more heated kiss. Billy reluctantly pulled away with a soft chuckle, arching one of his dark brows up with a mischievous smirk curling at the corner of his lips.

“Does this mean I can take you on a date?”

“It better be the best first date I’ve ever been on or I swear-”

Billy cut off your threat with another deep kiss, coaxing a soft noise from the back of your throat as he slipped his hand into your hair and pulled you in even closer.

Billy Russo was going to be the death of you.

[diosapate]

Mercymorn? Or Augustine?

already answered augustine so for my beautiful princess with a disorder ->

favorite thing about them: like my opinion on augustine i just love the intense double-layering of the lyctors where she's a deeply funny hot mess on first glance but once you dig into her as a character she's one of the most horrifically sad women in the series. she's so deeply tortured and not having a good time and she is going to make sure EVERYONE knows

least favorite thing about them: morally i must disagree with her perpetuating the cycle of abuse onto harrow but it is one of the most interesting parts of her as a character imo

favorite line: too fucking many. something about "my presence ought to have the same effect as a fire alarm" really tickles me though

brOTP: this woman does not have friends but i'd like to imagine she had at least a nominally okay relationship with cytherea

OTP: i've talked about the appeal of mercy and augustine at length on this blog but they really do scratch something in my brain. because even removing toxic evil divorce jokes from the table there's still something so haunting about how inextricable they are and have been in two entire lifetimes

nOTP: i don't really have one? i don't see mercy/harrow at all but i can respect the grind

random headcanon: incredibly random but in contrast to augustine's canonically cozy and incredibly lavish personal quarters on the mithraeum i think mercy's rooms are incredibly spartan. nun style. she barely owns a bed frame.

unpopular opinion: i don't think being an annoying bitch + nag is her factory settings and she was in fact shaped that way by how she's been treated for 10000+ years and also her failed catholic situationship send post

song i associate with them: get out of my house >:)

favorite picture of them: this art by lulafia has lived rent free in my head for a year and a half now <3

[prettygoododds]

Happy Sunday! Thank you @roomwithanopenfire @thewholelemon @cutestkilla @hushed-chorus & @wellbelesbian for the tags!

I could share the no progress I've made on the hockey fic, or even a small snippet of my COBB fic for this year, but instead I'm gonna do a third, stupid thing and share a bit from the WIP I started TODAY.

Honestly, this fic has been living rent free in my head since last fall, but I kept saying I'd get to it when I finished all the other things. Well, I think it finally had it with being ignored and demanded to be started today, and honestly, maybe getting it out will help with finishing the others (or other lies writers tell themselves, a memoir).

As most things these days, it's inspired by Miss Swift's song The Great War. I have a real issue with hearing songs and seeing them play out like a scene in my head (particularly hers) and this one screamed Snobaz from my first listen. So I'm thinking, Knight Simon, King Mage, Duke Pitch and a war to end a kingdom. This is just for fun and probably won't see the light of day until I have it mostly finished, but enjoy this sneak peak:

“Why him? Why couldn’t they send another representative?!” I ask, this time kicking the wall and watching the stone mend itself before it even hits the ground. “Maybe because they know it riles you up like this?” she says before sighing and explaining. “When the King has to send you out of the room because of your distracting growls in his direction, it leaves the King vulnerable and they know that. You played right into their hands.” “The war is inevitable, Malcolm could have at least shown his face today.” I say, getting angry all over again.  “Too risky. You know that could have ended in him being hauled off and executed before the other side could even react.” I punch the wall a final time, Penelope gasping at the dent I leave,  before stalking down the dark corridor to my room.

There you have it. If anyone would like to beta this while I work slowly on it, let me know.

No pressure tags : @ic3-que3n @dohrnaira @facewithoutheart @artsyunderstudy @imagineacoolusername @shemakesmeforget @ivelovedhimthroughworse @ionlydrinkhotwater @rimeswithpurple @aristocratic-otter @blackberrysummerblog @nausikaaa @supercutedinosaurs @nightimedreamersworld @valeffelees @iamamythologicalcreature @shrekgogurt @ileadacharmedlife @martsonmars @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @youarenevertooold@noblecorgi