#Sometimes ya gotta be unhinged and scream

[swirlingsanctum]

When i was a baby/toddler/child i had to hang out with this family friend's kid who was 2 days younger than me and she was a bite baby, she bit everyone that came near her, and in all my little kid wisdom i would scream as loud as i could directly in her face every time she tried to bite me, and you know what? She stopped fucking biting me

[sighsinkhuzdul]

Imagine working with Trevor, Michael and Franklin and you save Trevor

“Holy shit, are you hit?” You all but screamed in Trevor’s face. You had seen the shooter mere seconds before he emptied a clip into the thin wall Trevor was using as cover. Before he could start firing, you dived across and tackled him down and out of the way, dragging him and yourself over and around a corner. 

You started frantically checking him over for blood, you know the important places to look.

As you begin to look down at his legs, intending to check his femoral artery, you hear his throaty chuckle.

“Whoaaa Princess, if you’re gonna start playing down there at least let me give you a better angle!” He said as he begins to shift his hips, doing some ridiculous thrusting movements.

You don’t even need to look up at him to know he’s wearing that shit-eating grin. You swat him not too delicately on the leg, more of a punch really.

“Do be quiet, or I won’t bother next time!” You say, with a look of faux-annoyance.

“You seem to be very concerned about me there, you know Princess.” Trevor says, winking at the end of his words.

The nickname makes you tense, as you try not to react with a smile - Trevor would never let it go if he realised you liked it.

“I’m trying to keep this mission going - now c’mon, stop making this hard!” You stand up and offer him your hand as you do.

“Too late, I’m always ha-”

“-Shut it!”

“D’round you”

You were about to scold him when bullets began flying over your head and before you could turn to return fire, Trevor had grabbed you and pushed you against the wall. He was shooting back, and shielding you with his body, his large frame easily covering yours.

He’s protecting me, he’s so cute when he wants to be. 

Trevor is screaming his usual stream of foul language and general indiscernable noises as he fends of the men, stopping only when the enemy fire had stopped and a familiar voice shouted down the corridor.

“Alright T, cool it - we got ‘em. Time to move!” Michaels commanding voice reaching you from behind your Trevor-shield.

“Took you long enough, dick face!” Trevor put on his slighty angrier voice when replying to Michael. You would never admit that it’s kind of a turn on, but the unhinged man before you just works for you. Go figure.

Trevor turns to face you, a mix of expressions flitting across his face.

“Are ya hit?” He begins to look at you, he was about to reach over to check you for injury when you reach out and grab his hand.

“I’m good, thank you, Princess.”

His head snaps up to face you and his intense eyes meet yours as he begins to stare. He lets out a primal mix between a moan and a growl - it makes your stomach feel fluttery. The hand you were holding now links his fingers through yours and pins it to the wall above your head, holding you in place. 

Sometimes you forget how freaky strong Trevor is. When you first met, you referred to it as his ‘crazy guy strength’. As he holds you in place, face very close your yours, you wait for him to speak. His eyes flit down to your mouth, linger for a moment on your lips and then slowly move back up across your face to your eyes. You swear the trail his eyes took is etched into your skin from the intensity. You know that he doesn’t care if you see him staring at your mouth, his brazen nature fully on show.

Voice dipped low, he begins- 

“If you really wan-”

“ -Trev! Y/N! C’mon we gotta go - NOW!” Franklin’s annoyed shouts hit you both at the same time as you see Trevor’s eyes turn from playful and flirty to dark and angry. He lets out a huff that makes the few hairs that have escaped your braid flutter gently.

As Trevor turned, about to start spewing abuse down the corridor, you place a hand on the middle of his chest and it stopped him in his tracks.

“Come on” You say gently  “We’re nearly done, lets get outta here.”

Calm seemed to spread out of your palm until it reached his head, as he held out his hand in a rather dramatic gesture and said -

“After you, my Lady.”

[swimmingleo]

Only Angel in the Sky: She is screaming

Consider this an addition to this analysis, which is basically about observing Harry's expression of gender through the Pink Floyd lense (more precisely The Dark Side of the Moon).

Of all the songs I've used in this past analysis, there is one I skipped for reasons we don't understand, especially since it really ties up the whole thing together, and this song is The Great Gig in the Sky.

What if a woman screaming was Harry's headcanon voice for She, basically.

Quick history behind The Great Gig In the Sky (TGGITS):

The first version of the song was only the piano melody and was named "The Mortality Song", also called " The Religion song". When the finale version made it to the album, it was commonly interpretated as being about death, or at least a spiritual one.

Death after a repetitive and boring life, or a life not lived to its fullest, where time and self discovery were lacking.

When it comes to the sound of the piano, TGGITS reminds me an awful lot of the repetitive three notes that you hear in both SOTT and Only Angel, all songs that ''sound like heaven'', and that could be linked together through that piano melody. Absolute thanks to @laurelier and this incredible post for pointing out the importance of this recurrent sound in some of Harry's songs. and whose analysis fueled in depth this post <3

QUICK "LyRiCs" ANALYSIS

The Great Gig in the Sky opens, in the exact same fashion as Only Angel, with bribes of speech about death.

And I am not frightened of dying

Any time will do, I don't mind

Why should I be frightened of dying?

There's no reason for it, you've gotta go sometime, The Great Gig in the Sky

I saw this angel

I really saw an angel, Only Angel

Both speakers welcome death, or at the very least, don't run away from it. There is no fear of the unknown. Yet, right after those peaceful disclaimers, both songs suddenly take another turn and break in literal screams. it's a bit awkward cuz I can't really demonstrate it on text, yall have to listen i'm sorry but basically OA goes hEY HEYYYY and TGGITS goes oooHoooHOOROOAAAAAAA

What's interesting is that later in OA, you can hear Harry sings in the background about death again, on a loop:

Wanna die, wanna die, wanna die tonight

While legend has it that this is what you can hear later in TGGITS:

If you can hear this whispering you are dying

I point it out not only because it's another nail in the death coffin, but also because those two excerpts are not exactly supposed to be "in your face". You can hear Harry pretty well, but the words are kind of mumbled, lost among random adlibs and not on the same "volume level" than the main singing track. I remember not getting it the first time I listened to the song. and then i looked up the lyrics and was like omg harry what no stop cuz yeah 2017 was when i started acknowledging gayrry so it was a lot of pain to register

Aaaand when it comes to TGGITS's absolutely terrifying one liner, I still can't hear it guess it's a good thing. Apparently, it's around 3:30. Does it also remind me of the little reversed audio easter egg in She ? Ya.

Anyway death is rampant and the speaker is descending (or ascending ?) towards it.

BUT DON'T WORRY IT'S ABOUT GENDER

Ever since I've been obsessing over the parallels between Harry's work and Pink Floyd, The Great Gig in the Sky has been on my mind.

Through that lense, I see it as a raw form of expression, the same way I interprete Only Angel as being the most violent and loud way Harry found to express his struggles regarding... she.

The absolute unhinged vocals of Clare Torry in TGGITS hold the meaning of the world (ooh the dramatics). Is it despair, is it anger, is it demented bliss ? Just like I could never quite put the finger on why the screams in Only Angel were so powerful to me. They seem deliberately placed, one in particular: higher in pitch than all the others and coming right up after the ominous "wanna die tonight". As if she took over for a second.

To be fair, I don't have much to say on this, as it's more of an addition to the She post. However, I do eye the heavy use of the death imagery after reading the birth of Harry post by @ialwaysknewyouwerepunk (which you must go read now also and who triggered as well another round of 'me obsessing over gender in music'' ijtrqhjeut).

She was restricted, hidden, unreachable. She wants to break free. But for one to be reborn one must die first. So yeah, a spiritual little death and a powerful catharsis, and maybe then Harry wil get to thinking of her.

HOWEVER I don't see it as ''old Harry dying and being born again as his true self'', which is a bit of a leap to say about the trans experience. More like ''Harry getting rid of whatever kept him from exploring his angel''. In Only Angel, the bedroom door for example. In She, the speaker's whole established routine.

Harry is someone drawn to spiritual beliefs. Pink Floyd's metaphor of death, placed in the middle of the album, might resonate with his vision. Death isn't a conclusion or the end of the line: it's another step in the life process. And if it takes the form of a woman screaming her lungs out and gradually softening towards the end of the song, when the ''process'' is coming to a term, then I could see the big inspiration behind it.

Not gonna lie with this one it's really all about the vibes lmao because really it's 70% screaming.

[splat-dragon]

Whumptober 2020, #1: Let's Hang Out Sometime: "Shackled" Whumptober 2020, #6: Please: "No More" Whumptober 2020, #14: Is Something Burning? "Branding"

Colm’s lips spread into something that was neither grin nor sneer nor smirk, not any sort of expression at all, serving only to bare his chipped and dulled teeth, “A good dog wears his master’s information on his tags,” he said, and nothing else as though that were supposed to make great sense and oh shit

“Where the hell is it?!”

 Colm was furious.

 Arthur, though he’d never admit it, was terrified.

 His arm was burning, his whole body was throbbing. His head, god, his head, he was no doctor but surely it couldn’t be healthy to dangle upside down for so long?

 How long had he been down here? Four days? Five? More? Colm had been down seven times, although that was just by his count, how many times had Colm come down while he was unconscious?

 And even when Colm wasn’t there, he was hurting. The other O’Driscolls enjoyed taking their pound of flesh from him - a punch here for ‘Tommy’, a kick there for ‘Danel’, though they weren’t half as cruel as Colm. Colm always aimed for the crater in his shoulder, enjoyed shoving the spoons of food down his throat ‘gotta make sure you don’t starve ‘son’’, put out his cigarettes on his skin as he demanded, over and over ‘where is the Blackwater money?’

 Every time, Arthur would tell him exactly where to shove it. Had gotten creative, even (his personal favorite was “up your ass!” which, while not the most creative thing he’d ever said, he was rather proud of considering the sepsis raging through his veins and the blood pooling in his head), with his answers.

By his count, it had been two weeks since the ‘parley’. No one had come looking, and he was still refusing to give up the location of the Blackwater money.

 Colm was coming unhinged.

  “WHERE THE HELL IS IT?!”

 Arthur would admit, it scared the shit out of him.

 He didn’t respond, just stared at Colm. He was tired and weak and he hurt, so instead he just blinked long and slow, wheezed in his frantic attempts for air.

 Colm drew his foot back, wound up for a kick - then paused. “Know what? Naw, naw.” and the glee that lit up his face bode well for no one. “This is all because of Dutch’s famous cha~ris~ma~ isn’t it?” he laughed and, if Arthur were a traveled man, he would have compared it to a hyena’s cackle but he wasn’t so could only call it a coyote’s yipping though it were too deep, rapid and huffed, “Got you wrapped around his finger, bein’ his good boy?”

 He didn’t even seem to notice the lit cigarette that was crushed between his hands when he clapped. “Have to give it to ya Morgan, wish my men were half as loyal as you.”

 And then all the mirth left his face, the transition so abrupt Arthur felt a twinge in his neck like the time Boadicea had bucked so harshly the back of his head had touched between his shoulder blades. “So. You’re not gonna tell me.”

 Arthur narrowed his eyes and shook his head, regretted it when his head spun, his pulse roared in his ears.

 “Well.” Colm brought his hand up as though to take a drag from his cigarette, looked surprised to find it dropped, crushed on the ground, “Well.”

 A cold chill ran through Arthur when the man did an abrupt about face and clambered up the stairs.

Colm cut him down, but he was too weak to stand.

 He’d brought a few men with him, and they were more than happy to drag him onto his knees, grabbing his arms tight enough to bruise to keep him there though he was weak and shackled. “What’re y’ doin’ Colm,” Arthur snarled, baring his teeth like the dog he was often called, but Colm ignored him, watching the largest of them heat a knife over the candle that Arthur’d been eyeing while Colm was gone.

 Colm’s lips spread into something that was neither grin nor sneer nor smirk, not any sort of expression at all, serving only to bare his chipped and dulled teeth, “A good dog wears his master’s information on his tags,” he said, and nothing else as though that were supposed to make great sense and oh shit

   “Let’s just have some fun… geld him.”

  “Oh yeah!”

  Bill pulled the tongs off the fire, red hot.

  The man passed Colm the knife, so hot it glowed red, and held another over the candle and he began to struggle as best he could. But the shackles were still clasped tight, and the men's grips were bruising, so all he could do was waste away what little energy he had left.

 The red-haired bastard holding his left arm let go for a moment to tear open his shirt, baring his chest, and he had a moment to struggle before Colm was slicing through his pectoral, writing in straight lines as easily as a hot knife cuts through butter D U T and oh that screaming was him, wasn’t it? at least the knife was hot enough to cauterize the wound instantly though he supposed that was the point, Colm was branding Dutch’s name on him not scarring it, and there was an H and oh thank god Colm was done he’d stopped being able to scream a long time ago.

 Colm patted him on his filthy hair (“Good boy,”) and stepped back, wiping the blade, not even bloodied it had been so hot, clean on his pants leg before handing it back to the man, exchanging it for the now red-hot other knife and oh god what was he going to do with that one?

 V A N

 “C-C-” he tried but his throat was raw, he’d screamed it so bloody it oozed from the corner of his mouth and he tasted metal, ‘No more, please, god, no more,’ but Colm simply patted him on the head, scratched him behind the ear, and went back to work.

 D E R

 L I N D E

[moody-cowdaddy]

Can't Hardly Wait

Low Honor!Dominant!Arthur Morgan x Reader | Oneshot/Drabble #1

Summary: You and Arthur have had an unsuccessful hunting trip, but you decide to spice things up.

Category: SMUT. SMUT. SMUT.

A/N: I love writing lovey dovey fluff, but I'm ready to write some hot cowboy smut. I've written a lot of it in my day, and I think this is in the top 3 of the raunchiest. Again, I apologize this doesn't have a 'KEEP READING', if anyone knows how to add it while on mobile, PLEASE let me know.

××××

You and Arthur had been walking for what felt like hours now, with not a deer, rabbit, squirrel, or even a grizzly bear in sight. The two of you had been out hunting for well over two hours without any luck, and it didn't look like it was gonna change anytime soon. The longer you walked, looking around and finding absolutely nothing, the more that Arthur got agitated.

"Goddamnit." You could hear him hiss under his breathe as he slung his rifle over his shoulder.

"Maybe we'll have more luck tomorrow," You said, trying to stay positive, but mostly trying to sway him to leave.

"Yeah, an' if go back empty-handed, I'm gonna have'ta hear Pearson pesterin' me for the rest'a the night about a goddamn deer, darlin'. An' I might shoot him this time," He snapped in that gravelly tone.

Most people got very concerned, even fearful of their own life when Arthur got mad. I mean, that usually was when people died in his precense. But, you were the least bit nervous, seeing him get like this never failed to get you going, and it almost always led to him fucking your brains clear outta your skull. It had been a few days since you and he had any real alone time, and that's really all you wanted at the moment, the deer and squirrels, or anyone else be damned, for that moment.

"Pearson nags regardless, Arthur," you said, giving him a look.

He sighed, "It'll be worse if I don't bring food."

You, beginning to get fed up with the situation yourself, grabbed his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

"What, what is it?" He asked, seeming to get just a slight bit more annoyed.

"Well, If we're gonna be stuck here for time bein', why don't we occupy ourselves, cowboy?" You said in the most seductive tone you could muster as you pressed your hands against his firm chest.

Arthur shifted his stance, huffing as he looked down at you sternly, "Ya know we gotta get this shit done, gal."

You hummed up at him, dropping your gun to the ground beside you. "Honey, are you really turnin' me away?"

He smirked, reaching out to grab you by the chin, keeping your head firmly in place as he stared down at you. "Ya know damn well that I ain't. I wanna git ya outta them clothes fast as I can, but we ain't got the time right now."

"Shit, Arthur," you whined. "I ain't askin' ya to romance me right now. Just give it to me quick."

He squeezed your chin a little harder, "You tryna tell me what'ta do?"

You chewed on your lip feverishly, squeezing your legs together tightly as you looked up at him wantonly, aching and desperate for him.

"What if I ask nicely?" You pursed your lips.

He seemed to soften up just the slightest bit with the way you were looking up at him. Even a man that was as much of a hardass as he was at times got a little weak when a woman was standing in from of him begging to get fucked.

"Three days is far too long, Arthur. You know it, an' I know it," you spoke again.

He let out a growling sigh, knowing you were right. "'Course it is. But we gotta get back'ta them horses."

He tried to pull away, but you held his shoulders tight, giving him a slight push. Your hand shot down between the two of you as you grabbed his crotch, feeling how hard he already was for you. You looked up at him with a knowing smile. He wanted it just as bad as you did, and you already knew he wasn't going anywhere until this was finished. He knew that just as well, if not better, than you did.

"Why do that when you can ride me?" You purred, pulling up one of your legs to grip his while you gave his hard cock a squeeze. "Please, Daddy."

He stood there for a moment, his lips parting slightly as he stared at you. Things took a sudden change as you watched as an all too familiar dangerous expression appeared on his face. His eyes had gone dark, clouded completely with intent and lust; his hand instantly reached out, grabbing you by your throat as he backed you against a nearby tree, almost stumbling over your own feet at the sudden movement. You gave a whimper as his other hand reach down to grab a handful of your ass, then bringing it down to your thigh to lift that leg up, pressing his erection down into your clothed sex.

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest now. Whenever Arthur got like this, you were always sure to get the fucking of a lifetime.

With his hand still gripping firmly around your neck, he pressed his face against yours, kissing you hard. You moaned softly, feeling the stubble of his face against your soft skin, and the woodsy scent on him. That combination was enough to drive you crazy all on it's own. He released your neck, bringing both hands to your chest as he got a grip on your shirt, ripping it open to reveal your supple breats to him. He made a small, satisfied grunt at the sight of them as he ducked his head down, planting hard, wet kisses along them, stopping short only to drag his tongue over one of your nipples. You moaned a little louder, gripping his shoulder as you pressed your hips up into him.

"Arthur." That was all that you could say.

He pulled back, looking down at you with a demanding, sultry gaze. "Get them pants off, girl. Now," he growled at you in that delicious tone of voice.

You nodded, obeying his command as your hands automatically reached down, fumbling nervously as you tried to undo the buckle on your gunbelt and pants all at once. He observed you carefully as you took it off, slowly unbuckling his own gunbelt and pants, pawing at his cock through his work pants as he waited. But you were clearly taking too long for his liking. He pulled your hands out of the way as he curled his long, thick fingers through the top of your pants, ripping them down to your ankles to leave you exposed to him.

He grabbed a handful of your hair, bringing you down to the forest floor with him, until you were on all fours. He lowered himself to his knees, positioning himself right behind you. You stifled back another moan, digging your fingertips into the earth when you felt the head of his length brush against your wet entrance. He didn't give you much time to adjust before he pushed himself inside of you.

You gasped for breathe as you felt his member stretching you open. Sometimes his size could be a lot to try to handle all at once, but it still felt so damn good. He gave your hair a hard tug, forcing you to lift your body up until his lips were brushing against your ear.

"This what ya wanted, darlin', huh?" He whispered gruffly into you ear, thrusting his hips roughly against yours once. "You want me'ta fuck ya like'a bitch in heat, right here, right now. That what ya want?"

You moaned heavily, even more turned on by the way he was talking to you right now. You nodded your head in several rapid successions. "Oh God, yes. Fuck me, Arthur."

A groan reverberated within his chest as he then push you back down to the ground, with his hand still entwined with your hair while he shoved the side of your face to the ground, forcing you to arch your back for him; he kept a tight, firm grip on your hair as he began to work on you relentlessly with his hips. He slammed them into you, repeatedly, the sound of skin slapping against skin growing louder by the minute.

He groaned, cursing under his breath as he gave your ass a hard slap with his free hand, making you cry out for him. It was pain mixed with pleasure, but you could already tell that you were gonna be sore as shit after this little adventure.

You gritted your teeth together, hard. Your moans slowly began turning into desperate whimpers as you could feel his cock stretching your core open every time he thrust himself deeper inside of you. Arthur leaned down, biting and leaving heated kisses against the skin of your back, his beard roughly scratching the delicate skin.

He only slowed up his pace momentarily, so he could pull his cock out of you, leaving you dripping with arousal and begging him for more. He pushed himself forcefully back inside you once more. God, you loved him when he was like this. In this moment, he was completely unhinged as he fucked you with the ferocity and demeanor of a wild animal.

You screamed out, doing your best to try to remain somewhat composed before anyone in a nearby area heard you screaming bloody murder. Arthur snaked his hand around your body, running his finger through your slick folds until he found that small bundle of nerves. This only ensured that you'd be screaming even louder for him. You pushed yourself back against his cock, gyrating your hips as he rubbed circles around your clit.

"Arthur," you panted. You had dug your nails into the ground so hard that they were now knuckle deep in the earth as you held on for dear life. "I can't take it."

You both knew that was a total lie, and you could hear him grunt and chuckle behind you. He pulled you up by your hair again, until your back was pressed against his body. He had unbuttoned his shirt at some point, so now your skin was pressed against his.

"Yeah, ya can. You take my cock so goddamn good." He groaned gruffly into your ear before pressing a long kiss onto your neck. He brought his head back up to your ear, "I ain't stoppin' 'til you cum for me, girl."

You moaned, nodding your head furiously as he whispered in your ear. You pulled both of your hands up to wrap them around the back of his head, running your fingers through his shoulder length hair. You could feel the sweat and heat on him while he continued rubbing rhythmic circles around your clit - biting, kissing, licking, and sucking along your neck and shoulder.

You were just about give out now, and you could feel your orgasm running up on you like a stampede of wild horses, your legs began to shake with such an intensity that you knew you'd fall over if Arthur wasn't holding you up now.

"Oh goddamnit, Arthur. I'm gonna cum," you whimpered.

Your breathing became shallow and labored as you felt your climax welling up in the pit of your stomach, like a tight knot that had finally been untied. Arthur groaned, pressing his head against the back of yours as he tried keeping up his own pace once he felt your walls tighten around his sizeable cock.

"That's my girl. Just like'at," he whispered gruffly at you, guiding your hips with his free hand.

That in itself was enough to push you over the edge. You could feel the first few shockwaves of your orgasm as it came trickling out little by little, until the dam that was holding everything back finally burst. You could feel it washing over you wave by wave by wave. You were pretty sure you had gone delirious, forgetting where you even were at that moment in time.

Arthur moaned a little louder, "Ah, that's it, darlin'. Get my cock wet."

"Shit, daddy. You feel so good," you whimpered. Actual tears welled up in your eyes at the overwhelming sensation.

You tightened your grip on his hair as you bounced your hips against his, riding out your orgasm that seemed to be neverending at this point. Arthur's moans increased as he held onto you, the rhythm of his hips becoming even more erratic as you grinding yourself against his cock, intent on making him cum just as hard as you did.

"Ride it, girl. Don't fuckin' stop," he growled at you.

He reached up to put one hand on your throat again, and the other on one of your breasts as he groaned into your ear, enjoying himself as you squeezed and moved yourself along his cock. You could tell he was getting close when his breathing became labored, and all you could hear out of him anymore was a symphony of animalistic grunts.

"Shit. Shit. Shit. Goddamn." Was all that you could hear, or understand, him grunt out as he slammed his hips into roughly one last time before he quickly pulled himself out of you.

You moaned, pressing yourself against him harder as you felt him pull his cock out of you, feeling the first few hot spurts of his release while he used his hand to stroke himself, leaving a stream of cum running down the inside of your wet folds and thigh.

He gave you another spine chilling kiss on your neck before he finally released you from his grip. You let yourself drop back down to the ground, rolling over onto your back as you look up at Arthur. He smirked down at you, he was a sweaty mess, with his long hair hanging down into his face. He buttoned his pants back up as he lowered himself on top of you, cupping the side of your face. His dark eyes that were filled with so much lust a moment ago had gone back to those beautiful, crystal blue/green eyes that you loved so.

"You satisfied now, woman?" He drawled in in that familiar southern accent.

You nodded, almost too tired to even speak, "Very. I think it's time to pack up now."

"Ehh, maybe so," He finally agreed. He shifted his attention down to your thighs, momentarily, admiring his work before meeting your eyes again. "I'm tempted to make ya wear it like that without cleanin' off." He gave you wicked smirk.

You hummed, biting your lip at him. "You are a bad man, Arthur Morgan," you said jokingly.

"Don't I know it, darlin'," he chuckled, leaning down to kiss you once more.