#now its more monty to me

[piepiepiemag]

most up to date version of my pngtuber. fun fact ig, i used to stream sillies but i don't anymore cuz of stuff that happened with my ex, but i still like to keep this up to date. i'll probably never use this again but i'll most likely cook up some lore for the character in the future. aka i might draw them later. yea!

[socksandbuttons]

looking and staring at the fact bloodmoons jealous of lunar being brought back but not him but also disregarding the entirety LUNAR was the one to promise him a body.

[plumbogs]

Romeo's moved back in :)

He taught Tango how to talk the rest of the way since he moved in with full motives. Community child raising effort.

Beatrice is still going strong and having fun :)

Simply doing phone calls is not enough to get Benedick happy again. I may have to do something drastic in an attempt to keep him from aging up depressed...

Mercutio came over to visit :) the gang is all here. Plus Bianca came over for her usual visit. Apparently Mercutio has ownership of the restaurant?? Fascinating. I will probably have him transfer it to Romeo or something.

Antonio maximized the logic skill, which came out of the blue. Good for him.

He's so mad that he's getting thorns in his feet on purpose.

WOLF BOY FINALLY HOWLED! Which, unfortunately, while it made Beatrice's and Antionio's night... it made Benedick spiral again. Frankly, his family sim wants are the worst things on the planet. He wanted to fall in love. Well... there's not really any women who he hasn't burnt a bridge with left anymore. And there is one best friend currently wandering around the lot. So, uh, he's platinum and in love with Beau now!! This won't end well but at least he's temporarily happy!!!

he just ignores this and plays chess with Bianca. i'm sure it'll make the dorms a normal and fine experience when they all move in together in 2 rounds.

in the meantime, romeo went out in search of himself.

[crewofthegoldrush]

“Woe to those who would stand between a dragon and her treasure.”

its been a tough year but through it all we have each other. and of course our blorbos :p

[tititilani]

I can't stop thinking about if Simon had taken Edwin's offer

Like Charles finds Edwin in the hallway as ever but this time there's another boy there too, cowering against the wall next to him. Maybe the dollhead spider doesn't care about Simon, too busy focusing on its favorite target, so Charles is left standing in the hallway with Simon when Edwin is taken.

They get out of hell, but Edwin doesn't confess due to Simon hovering behind his elbow. He doesn't want to confess his emotions in front of his killer, who he probably hasn't even properly figured out how he's feeling towards yet.

The Night Nurse is pissed they came out with an extra soul but Niko's same loophole still applies and Simon stays.

"This is Simon," Edwin says when it's all said and done, finally introducing the boy that's been hiding behind him since the door closed. "He was a...classmate of mine."

"He saved me," Simon says, looking up at Edwin moony-eyed and Charles knows that look and something settles heavy in his stomach.

"Glad to have ya, mate," he tells him even though the words taste sour. This other boy knew Edwin when he was alive, the thought is slightly terrifying to him.

Simon settles in fine with the agency even if the agency feels a little crowded now with five people in it but he continues to moon over Edwin and Edwin just...never tells anyone how they actually knew each other. He reasons it just doesn't matter, that he can't find the right time, whatever.

Charles never really warms up to him, though he tries to hide it, but he sees the looks Simon gives Edwin, a soppy smitten look that is somehow worse than anything Monty or the Cat King ever tried with Edwin because of all of them, Simon arguably knows the most about like Edwardian courting. That, like Edwin, Simon has also survived hell. Charles hates the idea that someone could potentially understand Edwin more than he does.

He hates it so much that nothing further happens between him and Crystal because the idea of Edwin being left alone with Simon bothers him so much. He sees Simon adjusting Edwin's collar one (1) time and it makes him feel sick.

And then there's the fortune-teller.

They only go to her sometimes for cases because she never fails to freak Charles out but her prophecies tend to be accurate like 60% of the time which is pretty good for a fortune teller. She looks at the two of them at the end, because it is just the two of them for once, and then looks just at Edwin.

"How kind you are," she says, the words a compliment but the tone snide. "To house your killer. Pray tell it doesn't come back to you."

"What." Charles says. "The fuck."

Charles is furious, of course, and it takes Edwin a long time to talk him out of smashing Simon's face in with the new cricket bat.

"He's like me," he insists in that quiet but firm voice. Charles wants to scream that Simon is nothing like Edwin - that he doesn't have a fraction of Edwin's kindness or pissiness, that his blue eyes are not nearly as beautiful as Edwin's green - but before he can even open his mouth, Edwin continues. "He...He likes boys, Charles. He likes me."

Oh. Oh.

Charles stares at Edwin who is looking back at him, trying and failing to hide the fact he's terrified, and Charles doesn't give one shit that Edwin likes boys because he's his best mate forever. He's still pissed that Simon is apparently staying but he has to hug Edwin at that. "I'm still pissed you didn't tell me about him," is all he says, swallowing back the other words he wants to say.

Charles grows even more paranoid about Simon being around, who has to get used to the fact that Charles takes to swinging his cricket bat ominously every time he comes within ten feet of Edwin. He finds out that adjusting clothing was an Edwardian courting thing and wants to break something. The very idea the very person who killed his best mate is now trying to put the moves on said best mate pisses him off.

It also makes him think of numerous times Edwin had readjusted his collar or jacket in the past and it makes his non-existent stomach flip.

Eventually, Simon decides he's ready to move on to his after-life and Charles keeps his hands from fisting when he looks at Edwin with that same soppy look. He knows Edwin has forgiven Simon by now but Charles has always been better at holding a grudge and he knows what is going to come out of Simon's mouth before he even asks. He knows that if Edwin says yes, he won't stop him.

Charles also knows that if Edwin does, there is no way he is going to find any kind of his own afterlife.

"You could come with me," Simon says hopefully and the moment after is the longest in Charles' life.

"Thank you, Simon," Edwin says kindly and Charles has to keep himself from crying. "But I have no interest in going anywhere without Charles."

He steps back - away from Simon and back towards Charles. Ears suspiciously pink, Edwin links their hands and they watch as Simon follows the Night Nurse.

[glammiketrash]

Monty didn’t attack Bonnie. Freddy did.

This post is not a joke: Ruin gives us enough clues to know that Bonnie was attacked by Freddy the day he disappeared, and Monty saw the attack.

Word count: 2457 words.

Yup, I wrote an entire essay with pictures to take the blame from a fictional gator that became my comfort character. If someone from Steel Wool is reading this: Yes, I’m ok, thanks for asking. If you want to send a cute Monty picture to my inbox, it is open and I’ll be all over the place if you do it.

Now, let me take you with me on this wild ride, because this theory fits the narrative of both Security Breach and Ruin so well that I have to clap at Steel Wool if it is actually correct and not me playing with the puzzle pieces incorrectly. So, here we go!

Bonnie, judging by the golden eyes and his travel pattern, was protecting someone like Freddy did with Gregory. Important damage was directed to the stomach hatch, where a kid could hide.

He has claw marks there, but Monty didn’t got his until the first was decommissioned and was then modified to play his bass.

The scratches in his hatch are green, but also the cracks over it. It looks like it is his base color instead of paint left by the attacker. The next video is from FazFriends, where they look at every single detail in the Ruin animatronic models. Their analysis are totally worth your attention if you like SB!

Monty has black nails, even before he was modified to play Bonnie’s bass. They also are kinda blunt, and the marks the attacker left seem more clean and sharp in the ends.

Now, there aren’t lots of animatronics that have claws. We have Roxy (and I’m guessing Foxy, if he ever existed as an animatronic different to her), The mimic/Burntrap, who doesn’t really seem an option because he’s slow and in life support in SB and sealed in Ruin, and… there’s Freddy. But, and here’s the twist, not normal Freddy, who couldn’t get through gates like Monty until he got his claws.

I’m talking about this thing.

Not only do we have environmental clues that confirm this attack, but also a key clue that wouldn’t make any sense otherwise.

Let’s start with the Prototype itself!

Check those claws. They are sturdy enough to survive all the damage this model has received, and extremely sharp at the end. Now compare Bonnie and its hand together…

It’s a perfect fit. The metal is a bit bent in the left, but if you could lower it, the finger length, the palm, even the distance and shape between the thumb and index are the same than the hole in Bonnie’s chest.

If that detail is true, all pieces of the narrative fit together. Here’s what happened, which I will explain further adding sources:

Monty saw Freddy’s prototype attacking Bonnie (who was in safe mode) in Gator Golf’s catwalks. The hurricane hole-in-one was activated, causing them both to fall. He could see the prototype losing its head and taking damage to its leg, but Bonnie was nowhere: he was either able to go back to Bonnie Bowl by himself using the distraction or the fall knocked him out and was dragged there, where he was heavily damaged.

This next part is not so clear, so I’ll give you my version of what I think happened that night: Bonnie alerted police that a kid was in danger. They show up, but Vanessa sent them away, claiming she was the only person there and it was a prank call (False Alarm message in SB). Vanny uses Bonnie’s trust on Freddy against him: she sends the prototype to go after the kid and him. He makes it to Monty’s, where the hurricane causes damage to the prototype, and is then finally attacked and disassembled behind his attraction to silence him and bury any clue or what happened (his parts are all over the place, one of his arms has weel marks, and Ruin follows the PQ ending where Freddy is disassembled. In SB, endos come out from the lines to attack us, and in Ruin we see the zone where his vanity is infested with STAFF robots, both in its normal version and in VR, where a giant STAFF robot is seen being dragged to a door while it leaves scratch marks on the floor).

Fazbear Entertainment pretended they actually looked for Bonnie and found nothing at all. As a final punishment for his disobedience he was actively being erased from existence: most of his art was removed, and some ask for a re-theme of his attraction (Re-theme SB message). They make Monty the main bassist, giving him his green room too.

These changes are being quickly pushed after his decommission: Bonnie still has power when we find him, Monty falls from the catwalks “a month ago��� and snaps in half, a place where he goes every time he skips a performance (Monty Mischief SB message), people constantly ask for Bonnie and there isn’t an approved answer to give, the bowling alley still wasn’t given a re-theme after taking out most of Bonnie’s images.

Despite FazEnt efforts, Bonnie is remembered, specially by a depressed Monty.

His body was modified, he was given his bass, his glasses, his room, his role. The higher ups clapped thinking about the possibility of him being even more popular than Bonnie, his disappearance becoming yet another opportunity to make money.

And it was Freddy’s prototype’s fault. His normal life, the person he admired the most, his own body, were taken from him because of him.

From that day, and after getting new claws, his attitude becomes obsessive, endlessly searching for what was left of Bonnie after the rest gave up: destroying fences to explore the undergrounds, constantly missing shows and always being found in the catwalks, even after being snapped in half by the hole-in-one bucket, trying to guess where his body was. His last known location was his attraction, so he should still be there somewhere, isn’t it?

Let me repeat this: he prefers looking for Bonnie in the catwalks even at risk of his own integrity than performing.

There are more details that show us he does care for him: there are four official images left of Glamrock Bonnie in the PizzaPlex, three of them in Monty’s ride, the last one at the entrance of his own attraction, where some animations can still be seen. These cutouts are in perfect shape, while Freddy’s is light off.

There is also a headless Freddy statue that once you go to FazerBlast screams “prototype”.

It looks like it’s been decapitated by a hurricane, some “cables” coming out of its head like the prototype, which has cables coming out of its neck.

This damage couldn’t have been caused by the earthquake: the head should had fallen to the ground instead of being pinned on the hurricane. Plus, it doesn’t match the theme of the ride, based on cutouts, and while the rest of the elements are placed in scenarios and their composition is clearly studied, this statue breaks the symmetry of the hurricane’s eye element, that is supposed to give you the illusion that you are entering its eye and being pushed out to the main attraction.

What’s more, in a story exclusively about Monty’s past and how he became a solo bassist in the PizzaPlex thanks to Bonnie, attracting the same amount of people than the Glamrocks themselves, a Freddy statue at the end doesn’t make any sense sense at all… Unless it was put there with a very particular purpose.

I like to think it’s part of an environmental story telling from Steel Wool, specially when you read the rest of clues together.

There’s more to say about this statue than the lack of a head: look at its leg damage, and how it matches the prototype’s heavily damaged one, and how the hand that is visible reflects the light making it look like it has long claws despite Freddy having short ones like the rest of the band.

It also has two blue long lines through his chest that resemble the ones in Bonnie’s.

If you still have doubt about how it is part of a scene representing the night of the attack, then you should know there is an easter egg here: if you follow the part of the tornado that goes up, you can see a Bonnie cutout at the very top of it. He’s far away from the rest of the scene and he looks like if he was being knocked by the tornado. If you zoom to look at his face, you can see he has a worried expression.

Monty didn’t destroy any of the images of Bonnie or his previous iterations, not the cutouts, not this poster, not the bass that belonged to him, even after causing damage to his room.

There is a detail in Gator Golf that is easy to miss: An intact poster of the original Bonnie near a log he uses as a hideout in Ruin (we see him quickly going out of it when we approach it).

He looks similar to the illustration at the entrance of Bonnie Bowl, but this image is not very charming. He looks half dead, yeah...? If you then go to Bonnie’s, some big screens are still on and advertising pizza. When you wear the mask, they change to a glitched version of the Bonnie animation, where his eyes go blank in a similar way to this poster.

This spot couldn’t have been used by Vanny: it is decorated exactly like the rest of Gator Golf in the base game, which ends with us saving Vanessa and exiting the PizzaPlex together.

The poster also has a drawing of Freddy stuck on it. In this chapter you can also find the Bonnie’s piñata collectible, the first time we can see his Glamrock design and the first clue of him having suffered an attack (it has a big gash in his chest).

He could have easily taken it down if he wanted, specially when it is so close to his hideout and he’s in such a volatile state, but he keeps it right beside it.

But the real Freddy (or, at least, things that resemble him) seems to cause some kind of reaction even in the base game, yes?

The most common example in Security Breach is the arcade version of Monty’s Gator Golf. There are two possible readings for it, depending on if you think it represents Monty’s mind or if you think it has been hacked to change his behavior.

Hole 1 depicts Freddy separated from the group, a big distance between them. Hole 9 shows him in a dumpster, and Chica, Roxy and Monty playing together. He’s never part of the group, so either Monty hates him or he was hacked so he would hate him, right?

But the main show were he looks happily at him while playing, the fact that he never attacks him even after being hacked, the presence of images of him on other holes all perfectly light and ok like this balloon, and the eye color difference between Hole 1 and 9, make me think Steel Wool is trying to tell us a way different story.

The Freddy in the dumpster is the only one with golden eyes. Hole 9 represents what is happening the night we play as Gregory, the AR part of the AR-cade, and of the main reasons the Monty taking down theory was so popular.

That night, Roxy, Chica and him are working on finding the kid to the point that their cases crack and get dirty, while Freddy not only glitched at the start of the show hours before, but is now also walking around the PizzaPlex doing NOTHING instead of helping (apparently).

It’s the animatronic equivalent of a group project were one of the members does nothing, so you have to do their part and then they show up and are praised. It makes sense he would be angry at the situation and think he’s trash, but even so, there are no real confrontations between them.

But what about Hole 1, then? The answer is the fireflies. There are some fireflies at the left part, but the right, where Freddy is looking, has other set of lights. If you calculate the distance from Chica to him, the center is almost where the hole is, the part of the arcade that is supposed to drag your attention. Having an empty space there feels uncomfortable and a very questionable decision from whomever designed the scene, but if this one is a reflection from reality or Monty’s current mind state, why aren’t Freddy’s eyes gold?

Well, I don’t think he is separated from his band.

I think someone is missing from the picture instead.

Bonnie was erased from the Arcade.

As it was said, these changes were quick and non-planned: they deleted his model from the arcade, but had no time to move and reprogram the positions of the rest of the characters so the space between them was filled. As a consequence, when you play this level, your attention is taken from the hole to the distance between them.

It is void, awkward, it makes you uncomfortable. You know something is missing, but you can’t quite tell what it is yet. It makes you wish there was one more character there even before you knew there actually was.

Once you learn what happened, how his story ties to the place this scenario represents, the void he left in Freddy and Monty specifically, Hole 1 gains a new meaning, and it hits you. When you go back to the PizzaPlex as Cassie and play the arcade, there’s no joy left there. No fireflies, no Glamrocks, just ruins. Two pairs of red eyes and a pile of Nightmare STAFF bots. That’s all that’s left.

But if you still need one more clue to convince you that the prototype was the one that attacked Bonnie, then let me tell you there is a final one that wouldn’t make sense otherwise:

The AR collectibles dialogue.

Cassie always makes a commentary about the things she finds: Monty’s AR plushie being very glitchy, how she wants to add Roxy’s one to her collection, how the her father wouldn’t tell her why they replaced Bonnie and how he was his dad’s favorite…

But she also asks him what happened to him, and gets an answer when she gets the last collectible.

The AR Golden Bonnie is hidden in Bonnie Bowl, next to a Wet Floor Sign bot.

She hasn’t been to Fazer Blast yet.

But the description answers the question that she asked him: a prototype.

Bonnie was decommissioned by Freddy’s prototype.

And the only ones that know are a kid lead to her death that can hear his agony through the Wet Floor Bots and unreal collectibles, and an animatronic blamed for his death and told he’ll never be him, obsessed with his loss and with finding whatever is left of the person that he admired the most and helped him become the star he once was.

[artsy-waffle19]

They literally put Edwin through every possible gay-romance trope but made it realistic and that's so special to me like

we got the "probably former friend can't handle feelings and turns into bully instead" but it doesn't end with them, making up and being happy, they break apart, things escalate and they both suffer from that situation for a major part of their existence. With a bit of luck and a LOT of growing they manage to talk it out and the victim finds it in himself to forgive his bully but it's never going to be truly fine. But even though they both suffer tremendously, they are faced to deal with themselves in the process and find a kind of peace they wouldn't have gotten otherwise. Because maybe it's better to hurt for a long time only to realise that it really doesn't have to be torture to be the way you are and finally freeing yourself entirely than quietly live without the conflict but also without the realisation and resenting yourself for its entirety.

then there's the situation with the cat king. Older, emotionally unstable guy obsesses over younger inexperienced guy who actually understands him and causes some sort of gay awakening. But instead of some "I can fix him" bullshit with them, ending up happily ever after because "they're the only ones who understand each other"TM we get to see Edwin set boundaries and standing up for himself which benefits the both of them. For Edwin this ends in going "Hey thank you for opening that door to discovering that part of myself but I'm actually gonna have to leave you at the doorstep now" and for the cat king it ends up with him actually feeling seen because for once somebody didn't fall for his probably usual game of "I'm bored so I'm going to make a game of getting that guy to do what i want by seducing him". The fact that they don't end up together is the reason they were good for each other.

Also the situation with Monty which is basically the experience of a lot of queer peoples first relationship. They meet and they're both somehow new to all of this. Being queer, relationships, all that stuff. And they get along and share some interests, they like soending time with each other and technically it's like in a romance book because they meet and one of them is immediately interested and then they talk and they sit on a swingset and they kiss. And there's the excitement about "apparently I'm making my first experience with romance right now" and the worry of "I'm queer...I have it harder with relationships...what if this is the best option i have? what if it's the only one?" so they go through all the romance book tropes but the spark simply isn't there and it ends in one of them getting way more invested tha the other and they eventually end up breaking up in blood. But in a way both of them got an idea about what they actually want in life out of it so even if that sone didn't end well, it did give them something.

And last but not least the "in love with best friend who likes someone else/someone of the opposite gender specifically" but instead of having that best friend be secretly in love with the character all along or suddenly turn homophobic and the friendship being ruined they talk about it and they move on and the friendship isn't damaged and in a way it might even be better because sometimes our feelings are unrequited and sometimes that's okay.

I just really really love how the show took all of those options for cheesy and in a way sometimes even forced romance tropes and went "hey, life is not a romance novel but actually that kind of makes it better because look where it got you now"

[that-fic-girl]

I'VE GOT A SCENARIO, ok so I saw the Monty doing Roxanne with reader being jealous and got a thought. Reader is dating Monty but cheats on reader with Roxanne. They cry to Bonnie for comfort cuz he's sweet bunny but little does the reader know his idea so comfort is something else 👀. Monty catches them and is fumming cuz he knows Bonnie's been pinning for reader the whole time. Bunny boi looking at Monty while pounding reader like whatcha done do? 👀🐇👀

your prayers have been answered my sweet in this, reader calls bonnie thumper as a nickname. I will STAND WITH THAT HEAD CANON UNTIL I DIE.

GLAMROCK BONNIE x READER

tw: NSFW THEMES, cheating, mentions of panties for the feminine ppl, not read over it just finished it off this morning, mentions of vaginal parts

every day was getting more and more exhausting for you. Your pay check is slipping, your sink was leaking and your relationship was fading.

you would find yourself getting upset and just breaking down, the first person at your side would always be bonnie.

he would always hear to what you had to say, he gave great advice and if you need to cry in his embrace, hes happy to be there for you.

"its gonna be okay superstar, I promise" he held you and stroked your hair as you quietly sobbed into his bowling shirt.

"I-its not... hes going to leave me.. I-.. I just don't know what to do"

you knew deep down it was for the better. all monty ever did was insult you and ignore you. NOTHING about him screamed "caring" in any way.

"but... it'll be for the best." you stuttered, wiping your tears from your face.

you patted Bonnies leg and gave him a little smile, indicating it was time for you to finish on your check-ups with the other glamrocks. god how he loves that smile.

before you pulled the door he grabbed your waist from behind and hugged you.

"just one more before you leave, im gonna miss ya'" he said whilst resting his head into the dip of your neck.

"Awww, thumper. c'mere"

the large thump of the elevator hitting the floor woke you up from your thoughts. remembering you have to finish off the last of the glamrock checkups and then your free to roam around for a bit until opening.

your first stop was freddy;

freddy noticed your tear stained face and questioned you about it but after you said it was nothing, he didn't want to push you into telling him. so he stayed quiet until you finished.

"alright! all done. you seem to be operating fine."

you gave the brown bear a smile, closing his stomach hatch.

"I best be on my way now".

and with that, you made your way to Roxy's greenroom but to your surprise, she wasn't there.

"that's strange... maybe she's in her raceway. ill check it later"

you grabbed your tools and headed to your gators greenroom.

you where absolutely terrified, why wouldn't you be? he has a short temper and isn't really fond of you DESPITE you being his significant other.

as you where about to place your fist onto his door, you heard something.

"fuckkk..roxyy"

you heard grunts and several slurs mumbling all coming from monty's room.

you felt dread bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

without hesitation, you slammed the door open to reveal a heartbreaking scene.

"what. the. fuck" you dropped your bags to the floor and stood in shock.

"ah- shit babe! its not what it looks like!"

monty tried to cover Roxy whilst trying to put his pants back on, knocking over a few objects thrown across his room.

"oh so you weren't just balls fucking deep in Roxy then huh?! do you think im a fucking idiot?!" you frantically waved your arms around, your head raging at the thought of your best friend FUCKING your boyfriend.

"no I-"

"so this is why you where so distant from me. you where screwing around with her!" you cut him off.

monty was silent. he knew you where right and you could see it on his face

Roxanne stood up and moved towards you

"im sorry y/n-"

"I don't want to hear anything from you."

and with that you slammed the door shut, walking back to the elevator you came from. you where too distracted to go check on Chica or the others. you had one destination you where gonna go to and that was it.

you felt your anger slowly melt into sadness and the aching in your chest started to become more apparent. tears started to run down your face.

"shit.."

bonnie was sat on foxy's stage, head in his hands and dying of boredom.

"why didn't I just tell her, kiss her.. or DO ANYTHING! god she's gonna get played by that dick-"

"b-bonnie.."

his head instantly turned.

"o-oh my sweet thing, what happened?"

he quickly ran to your side, putting your head in his hands.

"monty he...he.. I think he grew fonder to Roxanne.."

bonnie gave you a sad look, cupping your cheek in his hand.

"aw darlin'... im sorry you had to see that"

his hands ran down to your waist, pulling you into his chest.

"its going to be alright, love"

you wiped you tears and sat down, putting you head into your hands. Bonnie lifted your face up to meet him, giving you a soft smirk.

"I can treat you better than he ever could, y'know?"

your eyes never left his, getting lost in the sight that was in front of you. you felt your insides bubbling in excitement.

you knew there was always something there between you two but you always thought it was a misunderstanding. but now you realise that hes always been the one there for you, always been the one to keep you company on lonely night shifts, always been the one to understand and listen to you, hes always been the one.

"do you want me to treat you better?" his hands slowly slid up your thighs, rubbing the inside of your legs.

"y-yes..please" you stuttered, you heart was beating so fast. you couldn't actually believe this was happening.

"atta' girl" he said with a soft melodic tone.

NSFW UNDER THE LINEEE

bonnie's hands started to wonder all over you whilst he kissed your neck, touching all of your sensitive parts.

he was a bit hesitant a first but the noises you made encouraged him to feel more.

His hands tugged at the waist line of your pants, eagerly wanting to see the beauty between your legs.

"you sure you want this sweetheart?" he gave you a look of concern, making sure that this was the right moment for you.

"I am positive my little thumper, you're too sweet"

his foot pounded lightly in the floor from the little nickname you gave him. he felt as if he was under your spell, no matter what, all he could think about was you.

he pulled your pants off, revealing the laced panties you wore.

his hand glided over the heat between your legs, feeling your wetness and admiring the state that you where in. the state he caused you to be in.

"my, my baby. you look so adorable" he purred, his head going closer to your lower regions

"and you're all mine"

he pulled you panties off, staring down your dripping mess between your legs. his hands caressed your inner thighs, making your heat throb in anticipation.

even in such a desperate situation, he still made you feel special. it still made your stomach bubble butterflies.

"please just fuck me bon... I need you"

That lit something in him. Within seconds he’s picking you up and placing you on top of his lap, kissing your shoulders whilst his hands roamed the bottom half of your body.

You’re body was warm, soft, his hands gave you such a euphoric feeling. You knew in that moment that he’s what you want, your face grew redder and your heart beat increased.

You felt him slowly lift up your body as you felt something poking at your puffy core. A few whimpers left your mouth as you felt him enter inside of you.

“Fuckk, hon���”

His voice sounded so melodic, filling your stomach with butterflies, making you feel as if you’re a teenager again with a high school crush.

Your head naturally fell onto Bonnies shoulder as he started to bounce you up and down on his cock. He was slow and passionate. Not rough or mean like Monty was.

Your hands wrapped around him as your mouth opened, letting out the sweetest of noises, sending him over the edge, he was loving every second of it and you could tell.

“..’feels so good Bon..”

He smiled, he loved hearing you, especially like this.

“I know sweets, let Bonnie take care of ya’”

And with that, you’re riding up and down on him, filling your senses with a euphoric pleasure as he fucked you right to the edge.

By this point your legs had started to shake, you was clearly close and he wanted to get you to finish, all he wanted was for you to feel good.

His hands move as he moves one of them to your lower back and the other one straight to your puffy clit. As soon as his fingers made contact, your head flung back as the overwhelming feeling whipped straight to your core.

“O-oh my goddd… Bon..’mgonna cum..”

You mumbled as your body grew limp.

“That’s it clover, feel good on me, please”

And with that, you both felt your gummy walls tighten around him. Your body heaved as your clenched your fists and screamed for him, gifting him a small smirk on his face.

He pulled you off of him, not caring that he hadn’t finished, more of that he needed to take care of you. Pulling you into his chest, he moved a strand of hair from your face. You smiled at him. God. He loved that smile.

“God.. be mine hon, please”.

Sorry for the fact that it was rushed, its 3:56 and I’m tryna get all my drafts finished and I know y’all are back on the FNAF band waggon again so why not throw a few out there for you guys, love ya <3

Also please give me more requests, I’ve got no inspiration 😭

[maysileeewrites]

a helping hand - John Murphy x reader

Summary: „Why are you helping me? I’m the bad guy, in case you forgot.“ Set during 1 x 10 (I am become Death), based on this teaser.

warnings: mentions of blood + injuries, angst, Murphy being Murphy (yes, he does have a soft side in this, but that doesn’t mean that he’s not still a dick); please lmk if I forgot something! 

AN: I’m not quite sure whether anyone will still care for Murphy x reader in 2023, but I love my trash son so much, I just had to write something about him. Please let me know if you liked it! 

You dip the bloodied cloth into the bucket filled with water, watching as the water slowly turns red. Your hands are bloody as well and there’s dried blood crested under your fingernails, but with all the sick teens around you needing medical attendance, you don’t have time to try to thoroughly wash your hands, so you just dip them into the water, grabbing a bar of soap, watching as the water turns an even deeper red. 

Blood. 

There’s just so much of it. 

You sigh, standing up again. There’s no time for dwelling on your thoughts, not when the whole first floor of the Dropship is full of sick, coughing teenagers that need your help. 

You go to Fox and Connor next, checking up on them. But apart from trying to clean them up - they’ve started coughing up blood as well - and getting them to drink some water, there isn’t much you can do to actually help them. You have no medicine, no painkillers - apart from Monty’s moonshine and considering that a painkiller really is a stretch in your opinion -, nothing. Only a few spare blankets you and Clarke gave out earlier, in order to help keep everyone warm. 

A sudden wave of anger and irritation at your helplessness when faced with this unknown, dangerous virus overcomes you and you clench your fists in frustration. You allow yourself a moment to try and bury that emotion deep inside - because being this emotionally overwhelmed, you won’t be any help to the others -, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. 

When you open your eyes again, they land on Murphy - who’s looking right back at you with his good eye, the other one is still swollen shut. 

You gulp, trying to swallow down the nervousness that is suddenly clawing its way up your throat. Murphy’s the one who brought the disease into the Camp. 

After being tortured by the grounders for days, you try to remind yourself. After being unceremoniously tossed out of Camp for a murder he didn’t commit. And while he’s definitely a rude asshole that can be a bit unpredictable at times - though you think more often than not he’s just lashing out when provoked, attacked, or in case of the whole Charlotte incident, wrongfully accused - you don’t think that he’s as bad as everyone makes him out to be. 

But maybe that’s just you being naive, always wanting to see the good in people. He did try to go after Charlotte, after all. Though, you think, that probably had more to do with him seeking justice - a twisted, self-righteous kind of justice, but still justice - than vengeance. 

You sigh, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Whatever the deal with Murphy is - and whatever the reason for you to suddenly spend so much of your thoughts on him is - right now, it doesn’t matter. 

Right now the only thing that matters is that he’s sick and hurt and he needs someone to help him clean up his wounds and that’s exactly what you’re here for. 

So, you take a deep breath and square your shoulders, before walking over to him and dropping down in front of him. His blue-green eyes - the good one at least- meet yours for just a split second, but then he’s looking away again. You dip the cloth into the bucket of water - after helping Fox and Connor you’d gone out to get some fresh water - and reach out for him, but just when you’re about to touch him, he twists away from you. 

„What’re you doing?“, he says, his voice low, distrust and irritation evident in his expression. 

„Helping you“, you answer, gesturing to the wet cloth in your hands. „Someone needs to clean up your wounds, Murphy.“ 

He scoffs. „Yeah, right.“ 

You frown. „Look Murphy, just let me help you, please.“ 

He doesn’t say anything to that, doesn’t acknowledge your words with anything other than a raise of his eyebrows, but you decide to just take his lack of a verbal response as a good sign - or at least as a sign that he hopefully won’t refuse your help any further. 

You wet the cloth cloth again, before carefully reaching your hand out to him again. This time, he doesn’t twist away from you, so you gingerly touch his bloodied and scarred cheek with your fingertips, before carefully applying pressure with the cloth. 

All the while, Murphy looks at you, an undecipherable emotion in his blue-green eyes. The intensity of his gaze is distracting, and you swallow, trying to concentrate on cleaning up his wounds, trying to ignore the burning heat of his gaze. Though it’s impossible to really ignore it, with you two being so close that you can feel his warm breath ghosting over your skin, causing you to shiver. 

Something shifts in Murphy’s expression then - if you weren’t paying so much attention, you might’ve missed it, but as it is, you can see the bitter smirk that crosses his lips for an instant, before he bites down hard on his lips. 

Your eyes meet then. You swallow - you feel caught in his stare, unable to look at anything but him. 

„Why are you helping me?“, he asks you, his voice low and raspy and laced with something that almost sounds like desperation. „I’m the bad guy, in case you forgot.“ 

„Because you need help“, you say, underlining your words by lightly trailing your fingertips over the deep cut on his left cheek. „And because I want to understand you.“ It’s true - you do want to understand him. You want to know how he came to be who he is today, why on earth he set fire to a room on the Ark. 

And fuck. This - this is dangerous. 

That bitter smirk crosses his face again. „Oh, so you want to know why I’m such a jerk, why I told the Camp’s location to the grounders, is that it?“ 

„You were tortured“, you say softly, but Murphy only scoffs. 

„Yeah, I’m afraid that doesn’t count as an excuse“, he says, voice full of bitterness. 

„Wha-“, you start to say, but then you remember that you saw Bellamy talking to Murphy earlier. And yes, that would certainly explain Murphy’s comments about his being tortured not being an excuse for giving up your location. 

You sigh frustratedly. Of course you know that Bellamy only wants to protect everyone at Camp, but you also know him well enough to imagine him making some kind of petty remark how he wouldn’t have caved under torture, wouldn’t have given up the Camp’s location. 

Which - fuck that. Anyone would eventually cave under torture, even someone as strong-willed and fierce as Bellamy. 

Murphy’s hiss of pain when you accidentally linger too long on one of his cuts with your fingertips draws you out of your thoughts. „Sorry“ you say, biting your lip. 

Murphy just shrugs and suddenly you’re hit with the desperate urge to help him, even though you’re not quite sure if there even is anything you can do that could make his situation better - apart from cleaning up his wounds, which you already are doing. 

„I’m sorry for what happened to you“, you say then, looking at him. „That’s not - I can only imagine what you went through and I really am sorry that that happened to you.“ 

Murphy looks at you, confusion and irritation evident in his expression. 

„And I know that won’t change anything-“

„No it won’t“, Murphy interrupts you, but this time, there’s no venom in his voice - just pain and resignation. „But it’s nothing I haven’t experienced before.“ 

Now it’s your turn to be confused. As you continue cleaning up his wounds, you mull over his words in your mind, trying to understand what he’s implying with his words. Does he mean that he was tortured on the Ark? But that can’t be right, can it? Yes, the Ark’s council is strict and unforgiving, but you haven’t heard about them torturing somebody. 

„Can you even see anything like that?“, Murphy says, interrupting your thought process, and suddenly he’s reaching out with one hand, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

You swallow, trying desperately not to show how much that one little touch affected you. But your heart is thundering so loudly in your chest that you’re convinced that he’s able to hear it. 

Especially once you can no longer pretend to re-inspect the cuts on his face yet again - you really need to take a look at the wounds on his chest. 

You clear your throat, trying to sound more confident than you feel. „I - uh - I need to take a look at the wounds on your chest, judging by all that blood I’ll probably need to do some stitches … uhm could you - uh - maybe take off your shirt?“ 

Kill me, you think, wanting to die from embarrassment. Of course, the first time you’ll see a boy without his shirt on - apart from some of the boys that walk around Camp shirtless in the morning and you don’t think that they actually count - has to be in this weird situation. 

As if reading your thoughts, Murphy just smirks, before taking off his shirt. But just when’s almost free of his shirt, he hisses, his face screwing up in pain. 

„Let me“, you say, helping him. 

For a moment, you just stare at each other breathlessly. 

Then, so quietly that you’re not quite sure whether you’ve imagined it, he says: „Thank you.“ 

You nod, clearing your throat. Not knowing what else to say, you start inspecting his chest, lightly trailing your fingertips over the various scratches and other wounds - trying not to be distracted by his muscles you can feel under your fingertips and his burning gaze. 

Murphy hisses again when your fingers brush over a particularly deep wound. „Sorry“, you murmur, leaning in even closer to get a better look at his wound. „This wound needs some stitches, I’m, uh, going to get a needle and some thread.“ 

You get up and walk over to where all the medical supplies are stored, thankful for this short moment away from Murphy, his intense stare and your confusing thoughts about him. 

„Here“, you say, after sitting down in front of Murphy again and hand him the bottle of moonshine you’ve grabbed as well, „you might want to drink this before I get started on those stitches.“

Murphy just nods, taking the bottle of moonshine from you and taking a long, big sip. „Do your worst“, he says, prompting you to roll your eyes. 

„Thanks for the vote of confidence“, you murmur, though you can understand why he’d be apprehensive about this. If it were you being in his situation, you’d rather be stitched up by a trained doctor as well, but since you teens are all on your own and Clarke, the only one of you with actual medical training is currently getting some well-deserved sleep, you’re his only option. Unlike Clarke, you haven’t received any actual medical training but you do know how to give stitches - in theory at least - so you hopefully won’t screw this up. 

Here goes nothing, you think, getting started on the stitches. 

Murphy bites down hard on his lips, though a slight hiss still escapes him. 

You cringe, shooting him an apologetic smile before concentrating on his wound again. „Sorry.“ 

Murphy doesn’t say anything in response, just nods. 

You’re both quiet as you continue with the stitches. Then, when you’re almost done, Murphy suddenly says: „I got real sick when I was thirteen … only made it because my dad stole some medicine for me ... course, he got floated for it …“ 

You swallow, meeting his gaze. You don’t know why he’s suddenly telling you this - you just know that the story he’s about to tell you most likely won’t have a happy ending. 

Murphy looks away from you then, laughing bitterly. „My mother … she was never the same after his death … She started drinking. Blamed me for his death. Told me everyday that I’m a worthless good-for-nothing that’s responsible for his father’s death. She died three years after him … and I just-“

He stops talking then, shaking his head. 

„Murphy, I-“, you start to say, though you stop as well, not quite knowing what it is that you actually want to say. Murphy suddenly opening up to you is so confusing and his story so heartbreaking, you’re not quite sure what the appropriate words for this situation are, let alone if there even are any. 

„Anyway“, Murphy now says, voice tinged with bitterness, „I just - I had all this pai- anger in me and I didn’t know how to handle it, how to let it out. So I set fire to those rooms, got arrested.“ 

„Murphy …“, you say, your voice hollow, your heart breaking for the broken, angry boy in front of. 

He laughs dryly, though the sound has a wheezing quality to it that instantly worries you. „You wanted to know, didn’t you? Wanted to understand why I became such a jerk. Well, there you have it.“

„I do“, you say, putting away the needle and thread and looking at Murphy, meeting his gaze. „I do understand you, Murphy. I still think you’re an opportunistic jerk, but I understand, I really do. I - I know that it’s not worth much, but I am sorry that this happened to you, it’s awful.“ 

Murphy just shrugs, not saying anything. 

But he’s still looking at you and now that you know what to look for, now that you finally understand him better, you see the pain in his expression.

Not just due to the torture. There’s so much more, pain that’s probably been building in him for years and that he turned into sharp, pointed hate and anger, because he didn’t know how to deal with all of his pain. 

You want to help him, though you don’t really know how and why. Yes, he is a rude jerk and at Camp he was also somewhat of a bully, but you think that that’s most likely due to him not knowing how to communicate in something that’s not just anger and aggression. But you also believe that there’s more to him - that he’s not just this lonely, broken, rude jerk that that’s probably just a facade he’s hiding behind. 

„I understand, Murphy“, you say again, still looking at the storm of emotions in his green-blue eyes. Something shifts in Murphy’s expression then - he’s listening to you and something in his gaze tells you that he believes your words, believes you. „I truly do. But there’s more to life than just pain, anger and aggression.“ 

With that, you reach out a hand, softly grasping one of his hands with yours. You’re not quite sure why you’re doing it, you just know that you want to be there for Murphy, that you want to help him - and that you want him to understand that you truly mean your words. 

Murphy’s arm jerks, as if he wants to rip his hand out of your grasp, but then he grasps your hand, squeezing it lightly. He reaches up with his other hand, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

Just like before, your breath hitches. But this - this is different than before. This time, there’s no venom in Murphy’s gaze, no quiet challenge, no pent-up anger. Just curiosity and something softer that you can’t quite describe. 

„I still don’t really get why you’re helping me“, Murphy says, leaning even closer to you. You’re so close that you could count the lashes on his good eye. You feel his breath ghosting over your skin and you shiver in anticipation. 

„But I’m glad that I let you.“ With that, he leans in even closer, searching your eyes and whatever he sees in them, must convince him. He presses his lips to yours and you’re so overwhelmed that you don’t know how to react. But just when you feel Murphy starting to pull away, you kiss him back, bringing your free hand up to his neck. 

You feel him smirk into the kiss and if you weren’t currently kissing him, you’d definitely roll your eyes at him. As it is, you continue kissing him, though you give his hand a squeeze that’s probably a bit too harsh. 

Murphy just smirks again, deepening the kiss and tangling his hand in your hair. You can feel your heart start to beat faster and there’s a curious sensation in your stomach that feels like those butterflies that you’ve read about in books. 

You lose yourself in the kiss, in the feeling of Murphy.

Kissing Murphy feels good, though his lips are chapped and dry and he hisses in pain when you overeagerly lean a little too much against him. But still - kissing Murphy feels good. 

And even though you’re still confused and you know that one conversation won’t suddenly make him sunshine personified - you like his dry sarcasm way too much for that - you also know that you want more. You want to get to know Murphy, really get to know him, you want to be there for him. And if there are more occasions to kiss him along the way of getting to know him and helping him, then you certainly won’t complain about that. 

Murphy gives you one last, bruising kiss, before breaking the kiss, breathlessly leaning his forehead against yours. 

„I - Murphy - what …“, you stammer, still too wound up from the kiss. 

Murphy smirks. „That was thank you.“ 

You can’t help but roll your eyes. „I see“, you say dryly. 

„For stitching me up … and for not giving up on me“, Murphy adds, his voice serious again. 

You smile softly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of his eye. „I’ll be sure to stick around then.“ 

Murphy grins, though there’s a vulnerability to it now that wasn’t there before. „Doesn’t sound too bad …“ 

„Yeah, it doesn’t“, you agree, before leaning up to kiss him again. 

You feel him smiling into the kiss, causing you to smile as well. 

Yes, the road ahead is not going to be easy - this is John Murphy, resident sarcastic, rude asshole, after all - but you’re not afraid to walk it with Murphy. 

[paraphwrites]

followup on my post about dbda & loneliness.

'dead boy detectives' is a show where fundamentally, every character is very very lonely. but, they make each other less lonely. jenny is a surrogate parent for crystal, edwin and niko are always there for each other, crystal and charles understand each other, charles and edwin complete each other. there's just something so beautiful that even though they are all in pain and lonely, they are not alone, they have friends who would literally die for them.

i realized i was queer pretty young and in a very non-accepting environment. i was the only queer person i knew for a really long time, and that was really hard for me. and there was something devastatingly beautiful about watching edwin go through the a similar journey and not be alone.

dbda is important for a million reasons. but i would like to focus on one reason in particular.

'dead boy detectives' illustrates that there are multiple different ways to realize one's queer identity. you have simon, who is so wrapped up in self-hatred that he tears other people down with him. you have edwin, who is utterly unwilling to express any desire in such a way but ultimately embraces it. you have monty, who seems to have always known he was queer and always been very okay with that. you have charles, (i include him because i believe he is, but that can be debated) who goes on a long journey to realize it due to his circumstances. and they are all valid, and they are all real, and some of them hurt other people. because when the world hurts you so fundamentally, sometimes you end up hurting other people too. and you have people who have never had an issue with being queer, and that's great. and you have people who have to come to terms with it and it is hard and it is beautiful but they don't have to do it alone.

and that MATTERS. so often in media, we have a narrow, limited perspective for what realizing one's queer identity means. but there are so, so many different ways to figure yourself out, and dbda shows that in a very tangible and real way

the stories you tell are the stories we hear. so if @netflix only wants to tell stories about straight white people (maybe featuring a token gay character, so they can put it under the lgbt section), then that is the stories that people will hear

chimamanda ngozi adichie gave an incredible ted talk, back in 2009, called 'the danger of a single story.' in it, she discusses how, when you only tell & hear a singular story about a certain group of people, that becomes how you perceive the entire populace.

when a coming out journey is limited to its popular depiction (*realizes* *is kinda sad* *gets a bf*) then that is what all queer people are reduced to

look, i get that netflix has a couple of great shows featuring multiple queer characters, and i've watched & loved most of them. but god if i am not tired of people telling me to watch heartstopper. (i did & it's great & that's not the point.) the point IS that there should not be Two Gay Shows on your platform. because then the entirety of queer people are reduced to that.

now, maybe if it was just dbda, i wouldn't be so up in arms.

BUT THE FUCKING PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY ADAPTATION?????????????????????????????????

you CANNOT reduce queer people to shows that aren't worth renewing. you CANNOT erase queer characters from classic lit just because you want it to be more mainstream. when you do that, you are reducing queer identities to the single story you are willing to tell.

(to be clear i'm not blaming all of homophobia on netflix. i am simply pointing out a way in which they are contributing)

[signed-loni]

‼️MINORS DNI⚠️

Heeheehee

Regarding my post earlier..HERES THE FNAF SMUT

Things to know: HUMAN AU!!!!this is NSFW!!! Reader is submissive and a afab. There will b oral (reader receiving, Freddys part) creampie, (monty and freddy) roughness, degrading, blowjob,riding (montys part)(monty and freddy have a size kink. IM PUTTING MY FOOT DOWN-) WOW THATS A LOT..

ALSO!! These are gonna be they’re own stories. So no head canons. Also, WERE GETTING STRAIGHT TO THE POINT SO-

Nicknames: superstar, my love, slut, rockstar, whore, honey, baby, bitch

Freddy fazbear

You whined and moaned as the one and only freddy fazbear lapped endlessly at your folds. Hitting the best spots inside of you with his tongue, just to circle back to your clit. All the meanwhile pumping himself with his fist. You grabbed his hair and pushed down as you felt a coil in your stomach ready to burst any second, when he stopped.

You whined feeling the cold air from his room hit your cunt. “Freddyyyy!” Your whines were cut short when freddy locked his lips with yours, letting you taste yourself. Whilst making out with you, he ran his long shaft across your folds, making you moan and wriggle under him. He always felt so powerful when he was above you, you were so small compared to him, and he knew he could easily rip you in half with his cock. He never intends to though, unless you want him to of course.

He propped himself right outside your entrance, than looked up at you, eyes searching for consent before he went in. “Is this okay, superstar?” He asked “please..please freddy i need you in me.” With that, he slowly pushed in, careful not to hurt you. He heard your whines and mewls, already so fucked out for him and you’ve barely even started. He pushed in more, almost half way when tears threatened to spill. He stopped and said “are you okay, my love? We can stop at anytime if you wish” you moaned again, “its okay, freddy, please keep going” he pushed himself further in, and in a few seconds, he bottomed out, leaving you completely full, and a bulge in your stomach.

He stayed like that for a few minutes, letting you adjust to him, which was MUCH appreciated. Once he got the green light to move, he started his slow, steady thrusts. Making sure to not cause much pain. He heard you moans and whines and quickly locked lips with you again, moaning into the kiss himself, goddamn you were tight! He picked up the pace a bit, making you cry out with pleasure.

He was now slamming into you, thrusts sloppy and messy, wet kisses being placed everywhere. “Youre doing so well for me, superstar” Now, Freddy’s greedily chasing his own orgasm. The lewd sounds of your pussy squeezing him and his dick ramming into you were music to his ears. You felt the familiar coil building up in your stomach. Shouts of “gonnacumgonnacumgonnacum!!” Filled the room, and just like that, you came undone under him. Your walls squeezed and loosened around him, making him cry out. “Oh my gosh oh my gosh !” Following with milky white streams painting your walls.

Freddy and you slumped on his bed, him on top of you. He rubbed your stomach where the bulge was and kissed your neck, softly. “Are you okay superstar?” He asked, voice low and raspy, but filled with empathy. He removed his dick from inside you and watched the cum leak out, pushing it back in with his fingers. He stood up and went to the bathroom, running a hot bath for the two of you. He picked you up and put you on his lap, soothed by the water on his aching muscles. You sunk into him, fucked out. “I love you, superstar.” You turned around to face him, kissing his forehead. “I love you to, freddy”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Montgomery Gator

Monty gripped your hair as tight as he could, hearing your muffled sounds of you trying to take him in. “Thats my good slut, such a fucking whore for this cock, huh?” He moaned and growled, which made your core ache for some friction, rubbing your thighs together. Monty took a mental note for that, when you licked a long stripe up from under his shaft, right where that one specific vein was. He tried hard not to grab your head and just lose whatever restraint he had.

You were trying to keep a pace, not fast enough to hurt, but not slow enough to make monty fall asleep. That would be embarrassing…Anyhoo!

Monty was trying not to lose all self control, if he still had some, but the way you bobbed your head, clearly knowing he was holding back, even if it was slightly, he couldn’t help but grab your head and start violently fucking your mouth. Making you gag and moan on his long shaft only make him even more riled up.

You hallowed your cheeks while monty brutally fucked your mouth dry. Pulling your hair, growling so your other bandmates in the other room could definitely hear you. His bass and your drumsticks somewhere on the ground, your black and lavender band jacket somewhere tossed onto the floor also.

Monty thrusted one, two, three times, and completely released all of his seed into your mouth. Painting it a pretty white, leaving your core dripping and aching for something, anything.

Monty has fucking STAMINA. And what i mean is, he could last all night just doing this and fucking you without getting tired if he wanted to. He knew you ached for something, and what kind of boyfriend and coworker would he be if he left it to yourself to get that oh so-needed-friction?

Monty picked you up and placed you right onto his already hard cock, he wasn’t going to leave it entirely up to you to get the pleasure you wanted, but you were going to still have to work.

He sat you on his dick, and looked at you expectantly. “Whatcha waitin for rockstar? Get to ridin. I bet you want this cock in you, moaning like a bitch in heat while i fucked your face. Come on, i know ya want to.” And just like that, you started riding him. Definitely not sensual, though. You were shaking, trembling even for his dick. You got straight to work, making sure to pleasure not only yourself, but him to.

Your tits bouncing in his face, all the while your mumbling and moaning on his shaft, chasing your orgasm as the coil in your stomach tightened. Reaching your hand down to circle your clit. “Ah -fuck- look at you, trying so desperately to -mngh- get that oh so wanted orgasm of yours.” Monty leaned into your ear, voice low and raspy, he said “go ahead rockstar*pant* you earned it.” And with that, you rode him until all you could see was stars. “Fuck! Monty oh my god!!” “Shitshitshit, I’m gonna come” monty roared “come with me, baby. Come on i know you can do it, you’ve done it so many other times, i know how much you love this cock, so come with me”

Only a few more thrusts up from him and a few bounces from you, and you both came at the same time. You collapsed onto monty, breathing heavy and trembling. Monty picked you up, dick still inside you, and walked to get some tissues. Carefully, he set you back down on his bed, cleaning you and himself up with the tissues he brought back. Walking away for a second to bring you and him comfy clothes to sleep in. Putting them on himself and you. Putting you on his chest while he listened for you breathing, you listening for his to.

You looked up to monty, and lovingly sighed at him. “Thank you, monty. I love you” you said “I love you to, rockstar. And anytime, ya know i love yer pussy.” You tiredly chuckled and fell asleep on his chest, feeling happy and full.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

I know realistically what actually happened is probably that Esther just wanted Monty to ingratiate himself into the group and Monty himself just decided to start flirting with Edwin of his own volition, which is funny enough on its own, but I really do think sometimes about Esther creating human Monty as specifically a honeypot for her revenge plan, because that leaves us with two more hilarious options - either Esther instructed him to flirt specifically with Edwin (which means she, much like everyone else in this damn town, clocked him in about two seconds but like. when he wasn’t even doing anything particularly telling lmao), or she crafted him to be attractive to any of the three he happened to bump into first (which implies that Esther is certain that all three of them are into guys from that same brief encounter) and I honestly don’t know which is funnier.

Again, realistically I know it’s the first but the last one makes me cackle because it’s literally just

Esther, waving her hand dismissively: “Okay now go bump into whoever and lay on the charm I’ve got an evil mushroom to grow”

Monty, already packing his astrology books: “on it boss” 🫡

[medicmuttt]

Totality

hear me out. for all the self shippers. Sun and Moon asking you out during the eclipse.

You're all settled on the roof or somewhere outside, the three or at least you and Sun in control of the body, resting on a soft blanket borrowed from the daycare. It's cute, littered with clouds and moons, and so incredibly soft. You're tempted to take it for yourself. You won't, but the thought crosses your mind.. They're cuddling with you of course. You've gotten used to it at this point. Always so clingy to their favorite little human. Their blank optics somehow filled with wonder as they look on at the sky. You look on as well. Your eyes protected by cute space themed glasses. They don't need any of course but they got some fake ones just to match you. Maybe they stole Monty's for the day..

You can feel as their hands fidget. The Moon hasn't fully covered the Sun yet.. But he looks down at you, sun rays twitching, a cute quirk you've noticed. "S..Sunshine?" His voice is laced in a nervous static as he speaks up. You turn to him, giving them your full attention. That only seems to make it worse.. The gentle whirring of his fans laced with the soft creeks and squeaks of their internal mechanics. Your head tilts ever so slightly as the bot gets the courage to speak once more. "I.. I.. We've known each other for a while now a-and today is so so special.." He trails off. You can tell by the look in his eye his communicating with Moon. Likely yelling at him for tripping over his words so much. His wrings his big, intricate hands. Your brows furrow. "Moon and I have been wanting to ask you for a while." One hand suddenly goes behind his back, searching for something you can't quite see. "W-would you go out with us.. Be our little star? Our universe?" With that he pulls out a bouquet of paper flowers. All hand crafted with colorful construction paper. Blues, reds, oranges and purples.. even some made of star patterned paper.. You feel your chest leap at the sudden proposal but before you can speak he pipes up again. "Y-You mean everything to us Sunshine. I.. We know it isn't really.. Professional or conventional. But we promise to take care of you, to make everyday you're with us the best day possible."

Your heart is racing in your chest. Pounding against your rib cage like a drum. Face hot and flushed with blush. You smile at them, the cute shy one they love so much. Their fans seem to grow louder. They'd fallen for you.. hard. But the two couldn't help the anxiety that bubbled within their chest as they waited for you to respond. Moon was eerily quiet while Sun nearly panicked. "Oh Sun.. Moon.. I don't know what to say" They hadn't said something wrong had they? They weren't reading your signals wrong? "Of course I will. Oh I'd love nothing more then to be yours" Your voice had picked up a cheerful tone. It felt like a weight had been lifted from their shoulders. Sun found himself releasing a breath his didn't even need. Dropping the flowers he near tackled you. Pulling you flush into his lap with a squeal. "Oh sunshine! You have no idea how much this means to us!" He squeezed you. Burring his big face into your neck Unable to do much else you simply smiled. Chuckling to yourself and wrapping your arms around their surprisingly warm and soft body. His eyes flicked back up to the sky. The totality was almost here. The tight grip grew slack as he turned you around. You could feel as his hand made its way into yours giving it a excited squeeze. the three of you watching in silence as the moon slowly encompassed the sun. "We love you andromeda.." You leaned up to kiss their cheek. The plastic growing hot under you. A smile tugging at your lips. "I love you too."

I fixated idk if this is good okay bye.

[lqveharrington]

Silver Roses & Fallen Snow

9: The Annual Lovett Gala (series masterlist)

summary: The Gala finally arrives and you set your plan into motion whilst Coriolanus makes his move on you.

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

includes: poisoning, murder, possessiveness, mentions of cheating, commitment issues

wc: 3.9k+

a/n: this chapter actually made me invested in my own series (it’s my birthday today too 🎉)

As the Lovett Gala approached, the RSVPs came rolling in, practically overflowing your living space as the Avoxes brought each invitation back. From the Cranes to the Montys to the Cardews, each Capitol family you grew up to know accepted like they did every year. Clemensia was especially pleased when the President sent in his RSVP for the event. As her first time putting the gala together, she immediately began to flesh her vision out, each passing second becoming more stressful. Fortunately for her, you and Festus decided to take over the job for those RSVPing as the week sped by — ensuring each person had their name card for a secure spot in the gala tables.

“The Berbrookes?” Festus scrunched his face in displeasure, tossing the RSVP on the table. “Your father really invited them?”

You push the piece of paper into a pile and sigh, “It’s not…” You clutch the paper tighter, finding a lack of words. “I have no control over that list of people. It’s kind of all the people in the Capitol. He never changes the list.”

Clemensia snaps her fingers in front of Festus, making him jump back. “I thought you were going to help, not complain over the list of people invited?” She handed him another pile of invitations as he groaned at the sight. “I’m busy. If I wasn’t worried about the stupid Avoxes messing up the decorations, I would do your job for you, Creed.”

You hold your laughter as Festus throws a glare at Clemensia when she turns around. You continue to check off names as you find their name tags and watch with amusement before your face falls as she returns with more papers.

“Here’s a new stack of RSVPs.” Clemensia handed them to you as she wandered back inside the living space to carefully watch the Avoxes. “These need to be done by tomorrow, so chop chop!”

Festus raises his eyebrows at you, “Looks like you have more to do than me now.”

“Oh, shut up.” You throw a rubber band before taking the first card off the top of the newest stack.

The name scrawled on the front made your breath hitch in your throat. You scanned the RSVP list on the card itself and it called for both of the younger Snows. You didn’t think that Tigris would still accept, nonetheless, Coriolanus joined her. Tapping a pen on the card, you find their name tags from long ago and frown when you catch the small heart you drew on Coriolanus’ tag when you were younger.

“What horrible family did your father invite now?” Festus watches your reluctance to move on from the certain card.

You shake your head, putting their name tags with the rest. “Just a family friend.”

Sitting through the rest of those RSVPs was a hassle, especially when Coriolanus infiltrated your mind once more with something as simple as his name. Luckily, the rest of the week flew by as the day of the Lovett Gala finally arrived, the entire Manor fixed to the nines; courtesy of Clemensia Dovecote.

You hummed a soft tune as you slipped on the silver gown Tigris made for you just for the occasion. You originally wanted to decline, but she felt as if she owed it to you after everything that happened with her cousin. You stared at yourself in the mirror and even you had to admit the gown was gorgeous. It was an off-shoulder dress that cinched your waist perfectly — its skirt flowing down your legs with a small slit trailing up your right leg. You had thought silver would make you look cheap, but the more you gazed at yourself, the silver made you stand out, not looking cheap at all; Especially when she used the fabric with real silver embedded in it.

Swiftly, you fluffed the bottom of your dress and headed over to your desk, applying your blood-red lipstick lightly. You touched up your previous makeup, dusting the blush before searching your jewelry for the perfect matches. Your heart constricts when you find a white diamond necklace that belonged to your mother; be careful to lay it on your neck. It sparkled in the little light left by the setting sun, making you smile softly. It was more precious than anything else you wore. Its design was remarkable — a snake encircling an apple – very fitting for your mother given her name: Eve.

While you thumb the intricate pattern, flashes of headlights catch your eye. They were drawing closer to the manor, causing you to quickly adorn your opera gloves and heels. You tuck a strand of loose hair back and look up at your mirror one last time, assessing yourself to make sure everything is absolutely perfect before you leave. As you see more headlights draw near, you quickly fix your dress to shield the garter belt on your thigh before rushing down to the foyer through the grand stairs.

The sound of your heels harshly clicking against the flooring caught Festus’ attention as he messed with his tie by the stairs. You give him a sheepish grin and hurriedly take his arm — letting him guide you around the ballroom to greet people arriving.

“Sorry, I got in my own head.” You say through your smile as the manor starts to fill up with Capitol families. The smile you gave was practiced with precision, your cheeks aching by the time Festus responded.

“Your father was quite literally going to knock your door down before Clemmie and I stopped him,” Festus murmured back and glanced at you through the corner of his eyes. “He was really pissed that you were taking too long.”

You shift your expression to a neutral mask and ignore his comments. The numbness always took over at the mention of your father despite any circumstance. You still gave short smiles to those arriving as you and Festus did your rounds, but you eventually got away from him, needing a drink of some sort to lighten your mind.

Just before you got to the drinks, a figure pulled you away. Stumbling in your heels, you keep up with the mysterious figure. You tug at your arm —trying to pull it away — before looking up and gasping. “Finn, are you stupid?”

“Maybe.” He says and slides the vial into your hands, running his fingers through his hair. Finn eyed you up and down teasingly, “Dressing up for lover boy?”

“Never.” You tuck the vial into your leather garter before fixing your dress again. “And I will stand by my statement, you have no idea how to dress nice for these events.”

“It’s my first time, get off my back.”

You hum and adjust his bow tie, “When I attended my first gala, I was told I looked gorgeous. You look like you were on a run five seconds ago.”

“Maybe I was.” He stuck his tongue out at you.

You roll your eyes. Thinking about it, he might’ve done so, but who were you to judge for that? You glanced around the room as it filled, fidgeting with your gloves. “When should I do this?”

Finn raised a brow and stopped your fidgeting. “Whenever you feel like it.” He squeezed your hand softly. “It’s your plan.”

You look down at your joined hands, mind spinning for ideas. “It would have to be during a dance of some sort…”

He squeezes your hand again. “Perfect, now go mingle!” Finn spins you around to face the crowd, catching you as you stumble. “I’ll be watching from the sidelines and flirting with some of your friends.”

“They’ll run from you.” You deadpan as he rubs your shoulders in reassurance. The friends you made during Academy were ruthless and you doubted they would spare him a glance.

“From my pretty face? Never.” Finn grins before letting you go.

You watch as he sauntered over to Clemensia — the girl too immersed in others admiring her work for the ballroom. Shaking your head, you complete your own round of the room, also admiring the decorations in silence.

As the night carried on, the orchestra played music for those who wished to dance. Some dance faster, some slower. You were roped into dancing with Festus at least once but left him the second you gave a small bow after you finished the small waltz. You denied the rest of them, politely saying that you were merely hosting.

You walked by the walls as you scanned for perfect moments when the servers were alone. You memorized the faces of the District Twelve men your father hired, making your job much easier as they blended in with the Avoxes.

Your eyes brightened when you found one server leaning against the doorway, giving unamused smiles to those who would look at him in confusion. He caught you staring and gave you a wink. It took everything inside you to walk over and smile prettily — not throwing up or punching him.

You slipped the vial into your hands once more as you grabbed two posca glasses, tipping the contents of the vial into his. Sending him a practiced smile, you handed him the glass — swirling your own for your own dramatics.

He started the conversation between the both of you, his eyes always racking over your body like you were on display. You nodded to all his words, sipping on your posca to help the discomfort you began feeling. You remembered this was all for Sejanus. Eventually, you couldn’t help yourself and interrupted the one-sided conversation, putting a hand up to effectively shush him.

“You don’t happen to know anything that happened in District Twelve with the rebels, do you?” You say slowly, still smiling up at him sweetly.

The man leans against the wall, practically downing his posca. You grimace at the loss of class as he responds with a sharp grin. “Why? You a rebel amongst the Capitolites, sweetheart?”

You bite your tongue at the nickname and push through. “Depends on how you define the word rebel.”

“I could tell you, but it’ll come with a price.” He attempts to grab your waist but you pull away as you pretend to move out of the way for a passing couple. The man purses his lips at the movement but lets his gaze drift to your chest.

“And what might that be?” You do your best to keep up the act just for a little longer.

He tilted his head at you, finally meeting your eyes. “Oh, sweetheart, wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Fine.” You place your glass on a passing server’s plate, dusting off your dress with a small smile that is more likely a wicked one. “Your loss.”

The man slightly drops his jaw as you leave him behind with nothing but small talk. You smile to yourself softly as you make your way back over to an amused Finn. He gave you a lopsided smile when the man shook his head and went back to his job.

“Quite a show you put on. I think he’ll be thinking about that for a while.” Finn spoke with enthusiasm. He ran his fingers through his hair as you fidgeted with your fingers in anticipation and excitement.

“Just a little.” You pinch your gloved fingers together. You look over to the man who rubbed his head as he felt a headache take over his well-being. “Well, until you know…”

Finn hummed and leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets, nodding his head toward the floor. “Have you danced yet?”

“Mm, I did with Festus. Just once.” You stood beside him as your eyes drifted amongst the different Capitol families attending the gala. You couldn’t deny that you were looking for the pair of blue eyes and blonde hair in the crowd.

“Have you been denying everyone else?” Finn raised a brow in surprise. He thought you would want to dance with more people to get your father off your back.

You shrug as you look back at him, “Kinda.”

He laughs lightly, nudging your arm. “You’re something else.”

“Thanks.” You roll your eyes and go back to looking for Coriolanus in a crowd of socialites and power-hungry men. You haven’t seen Tigris at all either, making you wonder if they really were coming to the gala.

“I’m just saying, you…” Finn trails off and clears his throat when someone approaches.

The sound of your name coming from behind you made you put on your practiced smile. You turn to face the person, but in your distracted state, you don’t realize how familiar that deep baritone is. You swallowed thickly as you met the deep azure eyes, your smile beginning to waver.

“Coriolanus.” You look away for a second and clear your own throat, dusting the invisible dirt off your dress. “How can I help you?”

Finn gives you a tired look, slightly shaking his head at how awkward your two were. Ever since you told him what happened, he couldn’t help but be curious about how this was going to play out �� especially since you kept talking about the blonde so often.

“I wanted to ask if you could grace me with your presence with a dance?” Coriolanus put his palm face up and presented it to you with a soft smile. His blue eyes bore into yours, waiting patiently for an answer. He would be damned if you said no and would try again the second another waltz was going to play.

“I…” You glance down at his hand, noticing the Snow signet adorned on his finger for the first time in forever. Finn clears his throat again when you stay silent for a little too long, making you snap out of your stupor. You meet his eyes again and smile, “Okay.”

Coriolanus clasps your hand in his and gently guides you to the dance floor. You gave him a curtsy whilst he bowed his head to you before he took your hand in his and began to sway to the orchestra. And for a while you both stayed awkwardly quiet, listening to the beats of the pit before Coriolanus decided to break the silence.

“Beautiful—“

“What are you up to?” You quickly cut him off as he spins you. He catches you in his arms as you give him a curious look — knowing something was up even if he tried denying it. “I know you like the back of my hand, Coriolanus.”

He shakes his head softly at your comment before speaking again. “Tell me.” You shoot him a confused gaze, urging him to continue. “Tell me how you’ve been doing. I want to know.”

You look up at him in surprise as he pulls you close and away. Schooling your surprise, you give him a curt shrug. “I’ve been here and there.” You glance over at his hand that is softly thumbing yours. You let out a soft breath and look back at him, watching his gears turn. “Father has been… significantly worse and I,” Biting your tongue, you refrain from speaking too freely with Coriolanus. “I have been doing better. I’ve been talking more to Clemensia and Festus…” You trail off when you spot Finn giving you a thumbs up from the sidelines. “I also learned how to box.”

“Since when did you have an interest in boxing?” Coriolanus dipped you in time with the rest of the pairs, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow at you.

Your breath hitched with how close he was, so you decided to play dirty. “Since you cheated on me.” He gave you a look of guilt as you walked around one another. “Anyway… Uhm…” You look toward the ballroom again, smiling when you see Finn get rejected by some of your classmates.

Coriolanus watches your reaction and quickly shifts the topic at hand. “Who was that you were talking to?”

You look back to Coriolanus with a confused grin, tilting your head. “Who— Oh! Phineas Miller? He was Sejanus’s friend. He’s teaching me how to box.” You take hold of his hand again as the song slows down once more.

“He’s the one teaching you to box?” The blonde gave you a skeptical look, spinning you around. “He was getting awfully close to someone who’s in an arranged marriage.”

“Well, he helped me mourn, Sejanus. I think that should be allowed.” You retort.

The silence continues for a couple of beats. You took glances from him and the guests, wondering if they would ever know what happened between the two of you. On the other hand, Coriolanus kept his gaze only on you. He watched your eyes sparkle from the decorations and how you would smile toward others when you met their gaze.

He cleared his throat before breaking the silence, but at the same time, you had many different thoughts to ask about. “Listen, beautiful—“

“Hey, you don’t know anything about Sejanus’ death, do you? I was thinking it wasn’t an accident and that someone had betrayed him…” You say quietly and quickly, looking at him with some kind of interest. It was the first time in a while that you actually willingly gave attention to him without him having to fight someone for it.

However, Coriolanus felt his mind stop at your question. He had to say some kind of truth. “Someone did betray him. He was too trusting and it got him in trouble.”

“I knew it.” You whisper somewhat excitedly, squeezing his hand. The blond gave you a soft look. He missed you. You were completely oblivious to his gaze as you continued. “I’ve been trying to figure it out…”

“What have you gotten so far?” He murmured back, listening to you intently.

“Uhm… Not much, just that it’s someone from District Twelve.” You say softly, realizing you didn’t get much information yet. But you knew you would get some more facts sometime during the gala. “That’s why I was asking you since you were there…”

Coriolanus held your waist gently as you both danced around the floor perfectly like the trees bending to the wind's will. “How about this,” He started, making you look at him with intrigue. “I’ll tell you anything that I can come up with, alright?”

You creased your brows together as the music began to slow down to stop. “Why?”

“Like I was trying to say,” Coriolanus brings up the main reason he asked you to dance with him. Yes, he wanted to talk to you without anyone else interjecting every second, but he also wanted something much more important than that. “I want to earn your trust again. And I’ll do what I must.”

He dipped you one last time as the song came to an end. Your faces were a breath away as you whispered, “You’ll do anything?”

“Anything,” Coriolanus says back in the exact same tone.

You looked between his eyes in skepticism before they trailed down when you saw a familiar pendant hanging from his neck. Your eyes widened in shock from both his words and the necklace.

“Coriolanus—“

“Y/N, your father’s looking for you…” Festus approached the both of you, giving the blonde a bored look as he pulled you back up. “Coriolanus.”

“Festus.” The young Snow spoke in the same drawl as his Academy classmate.

You couldn’t bear the tension any longer when it was a mere few seconds. “What did he want?” You spoke softly, hesitantly letting go of the hand that gave you comfort.

“He’s getting ready for the announcement.” Festus pursed his lips, holding his arm out for you.

“Fuck, okay.” You silently curse, forgetting about the announcement. You put your arm through Festus before giving Coriolanus a practiced smile. “Thank you for the dance, Coriolanus.”

He gave you a short nod as you walked away with Festus. When he was out of earshot, Festus gave you a worried look, squeezing your arm.

“And what did Coriolanus want?”

You looked back at the blonde who was still staring at you with the same look in his eyes the first time you two started dating.

“My trust.” You whispered out.

You watched as your father took the center of the ballroom, clinking his drink to gain the Capitolites' attention. The fear slowly seeped into your bloodstream as your father spoke — the sound of your blood flowing ringing in your ear. It felt like ice when your father gestured to you, but before he could add anything else to that matter, a crash came from across the room.

Shrieks filled the air from the corner of the room and everyone stood from their tables to witness what happened. People ran toward the fallen man as you slowly stood from your seat and rounded to Finn.

“He’s been poisoned!” One shouted as more people crowded around to see the collapsed man with bubbling foam spewing out of his mouth.

Immediately, several Capitolites ran to find water — terrified that they drank poison. You hide a small smirk at the sight of the panic, hands gliding over the empty tables full of white wine and champagne.

“Oh, they’re terrified. I hope you’re proud of yourself.” Finn says in disbelief and takes the vial back from you.

You grin as you eye several of the District Twelve members shiver at the sight of one of them getting poisoned and dying on the ground. You swipe a finger on a dessert and lick the remnants off, “I think I am.”

He shakes his head and presses a soft kiss to your temple, holding your head close. “Lover boy is coming over.”

Throwing a glare at Finn as he leaves you with a wink, you look over at the blonde making his way over to you. You bite your tongue as he makes quick work to get over to you, his appearance disheveled as if he continuously messed with his suit. Coriolanus raised a brow at you when you glanced at him with concern before he spoke — having to tilt his head down to meet your eyes with how close he stood.

“You didn’t drink any of that stuff, did you?” He murmured and pushed a stray piece of your hair behind your ear.

Your breath hitches as he touches your hair, but you shake your head to let the air in your lungs. He still managed to take your breath away. “I didn’t…”

“Good.” Coriolanus saw you reach up and mess with your necklace, dropping his hand to yours to stop your fidgeting. “I think I would have murdered someone if you got hurt.”

The tension thickens as he traces the intricate design of your mother’s necklace, his hands cold as they lightly touch your skin. You let his words sink in, feeling your heart ache. Your eyes never leave him — his eyes never leave yours. You were stuck in the same situation as earlier, neither of you wanting to part or leave the other.

You swallow thickly as his hand drops to cup your cheek, his touch suddenly fires to your skin. “Coriolanus…”

“Stop.” He interrupts you before you can say more. “I know and I’m sorry. But I’ll wait.” Coriolanus meets your wavering gaze and his thumb grazing your cheek every so lightly. “I’ll wait until you forgive me; I’ll wait until you trust me; I’ll wait until hot silver no longer melts snow for you.”

The room feels empty as you stare into his azure eyes. Everything became blurry but Coriolanus. Your ears began ringing again when he softly said the last few words he had to say before leaving you to clutch your necklace hard in thought.

“I’ll wait until you understand how much I love you and how I never stopped.”

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[bamsara]

"I just wanted to say. Thank you for protecting me"

Eclipse-Centric | Wordcount: 805 | AO3 Version

(Maybe some major spoilers for Solar Lunacy, TW for some robot gore, human injury)

The damage to their body was... extensive. Not life-threatening. But extensive.

You don't know how you're going to fix this right now, but Gramps has a toolbox in the shed, and there's duct tape underneath your kitchen sink, and Eclipse is very, very patient as he sits numbly on your coach, of few words and more looks, as you pluck out charred wires and plastic out of the hole in his arm to the robot that's probably held together less out of reasonable sense and more out of will and magic that you don't understand.

The arm that was torn off has sharp edges in the metal that cut at your fingertips when you try and brush it off, and you don't know if the animatronic feel pain if you were to try and sand it. So, in a comical fashion, you've put an oven mitt over the end of it, taping it to hold its place.

The other arms are laying limp, two on the couch, resting with its palm up in your lap. There's fried wiring around the elbow, dents in the forearm where Monty grabbed him, and openings that you can't tell look like they're from wolf claws or the steel of a knife.

The sight of them makes the wound under your own bandages ache for a moment, but you swallow back the wet soreness in your throat and continue working. The hospital gave you decent pain meds. You needed to stay on task while they were effective.

"Lift, please." You talk quietly, fearing that your voice may crack.

Eclipse doesn't respond, eyes locked onto the television. The news is playing, covering the fire. The sound is low so not to bother you. Still, the animatronic shifts his limbs for you, head turned towards the screen.

There's melted plastic stuck to his forearm, and you're peeling it off with chipped fingernails and whatever willpower you have left, flicking off the pieces onto the carpet to vacuum up later when you have the energy. Leaning back, you gather the duct tape from the coffee table, pulling out a strip to cover the hole in his shoulder.

It's...not what he needs. But it's all you have. All you can do is pick up the pieces and cover up the damage so it doesn't get any worse.

"I'm gonna put this over the opening, okay?" Two long strips are wide enough to cover this 'wound', and it seals the inside of the wiring away. "So nothing gets in your chassis. Or falls out."

Eclipse doesn't make a movement to acknowledge what you said, staring limply with the default smile toward the news broadcaster detailing the company's statement, and it's an estimate of the cost of damages.

Their ability to emote is not currently active, just like their voicebox. Not until they are both fixed. You wish they were active. You wish you could get something, a facial expression, a joke, a sentence, anything. You're taping your friend's fingers together like broken bones only theirs were stuck as claws.

A warmth travels down your face, past your mouth and you don't feel the wetness until it hits your neck. Lips pressed together into a thin line, you rub the tear away. You'll do that on your own time. Not now.

When you blink, you see a shift in the corner of your eye. Eclipse is staring at you now.

Your tongue feels swollen in your mouth. "I, uh-" You busy yourself with his hand, grey-tainted with burned-off paint and scorched sharp points. "I wanted to say thank you for protecting me. You know-" You keep your head low. "Back then."

He looks at you with black eyes and still pupils. The crack in his faceplate feels like guilt and sorrow in your ribcage.

You missed them saying things. You'd be happy for a stupid nickname, even.

The fingers you were treating suddenly tense in your grip, and by instinct, you let them go, until they turn and they fold around your own hand. Long, damaged fingers curl into your own, grasping your hand and holding it along with your wrist.

You freeze as Eclipse leans down, and his faceplate presses against your forehead. Not barely, but heavily, firmly, resting in your hair.

He lingers there as the news broadcast flashes familiar images on the screen, casting different colors on both of you.

You only raise a hand to press your fingertips to the bottom of his faceplate pushing him back as you mummer you needed to remove his ruffled collar so you can clean the soot you've spotted hidden underneath it.

He lets you, but the hand not using the rag stays in his hold, and his other comes up to palm away a warmth that falls from your face and onto your neck again.

[cowboyemeritus]

Cenerentola (Frater Imperator/Reader)

Summary: Copia hosts a gala to celebrate his ascension to head of the Clergy. When things go haywire, it's up to you to keep him safe. In the process, it becomes impossible to avoid your feelings for him any longer.

Content Warning: mild violence, a singular Monty Python reference

Notes: me? writing sfw? it's more likely than you think.

i've been doing a lot of social dancing so naturally that made me think about dancing with copia. i am also a sucker anything remotely cinderella-esque lol. reader is sort of based on an oc of mine.

i don't really know how i feel about this — i had ideas for two related scenes and then had to fill in the gaps from there. sorry it's so long lmao

feedback is always welcome :)

Even amidst the sea of people below, it is impossible for you to miss him. Copia shines like the Morningstar, the candlelight glinting off the ruby brooches and bedazzled collar of his new, freshly pressed suit. All eyes are on him as he spins the delighted young Sister of Sin in his arms, leading her with grace and elegance through the steps of the fast-paced waltz. He’s changed so much in the years since you left the Ministry. Now, with his ascension to head of the Clergy, there are moments where he seems like an entirely different person, exponentially more confident and self-assured than you remember. 

You know his new demeanor, however, betrays a deep-seated anxiety, the product of years of vague threats on his life from the organization he’s now expected to lead. And surely, the irony is not lost on him that the very hall in which he is now dancing sits directly above the crypts, where the bodies of his assassinated brothers lay in eternal repose.

From your position, leaning against a column up on the balcony, you have the entire ballroom in your sights. Every step, every gesture, every side conversation, is under your scrutiny. This was by design. Although Copia, by some miracle, lived to see the end of his reign as Papa, the transition of power has not been an easy one. Threats abound, the old guard of the Clergy still dissatisfied with him, many enraged by his recent promotion. His mother’s scheming was meant to protect him, but now it seems to have backfired, putting him in more danger than ever before. While this gala serves as a way for him to potentially smooth things over with the Upper Clergy, asserting himself as Frater Imperator, he is also making himself vulnerable, open to attacks of all kinds.

As a favor to his predecessor, the woman who taught you everything you know, you begrudgingly agreed to provide additional security around Ministry headquarters. At first, returning to the Abbey, its halls so hauntingly familiar, reminded you of why you left in the first place: decadence, hypocrisy, lies — a message lost in a quagmire of sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll. Somehow, though, Copia and his ghouls have wormed their way into your frozen heart over these last few months. It was done before you even knew it was happening. Copia has this sort of magnetism about him, some preternatural force that makes it impossible not to be charmed. It was like this even when he was a shy, awkward cardinal. Because of this, although the Clergy wants him gone, he has the distinct advantage of a congregation that completely adores him.

The song ends, and Copia sweeps the Sister into a dip. She giggles, pressing a playful kiss to his cheek. Something in your chest pangs.

At the end of the day, you just work together. It would be foolish of you expect anything more. Still, there’s been an undeniable tension between the two of you since your return to the Ministry. You see the way he looks at you, the way he hangs on to your every word when you speak. But maybe you’re imagining it — you spend so much time around him that perhaps you’ve mistaken proximity for fondness.

You sense a familiar, fiendish presence approaching from behind. “You’re having fun,” Cirrus remarks, entering your field of vision. She has a flute of champagne in each hand and offers one to you. To maintain the illusion of normalcy you accept, taking a small sip of the bubbly, golden liquid.

“We’re on the clock,” you say, eyeing a small group of cardinals that have congregated near the refreshments table. They seem to be merely gossiping. Rain is stationed nearby, carefully observing. “No fun allowed.” The ghoul chuckles, leaning against the balcony railing on her forearms.

“I take it everything’s alright so far?” You nod, thinking back on the hours you spent painstakingly drawing sigils at various locations around the Abbey, setting up one massive alarm spell. If anything supernatural tries to get in, you’ll know. All that’s left is to be on the lookout for any natural, more human threats. You swallow down a lump in your throat, hoping your preparations will be enough.

“Try to relax, then,” Cirrus coaxes, sipping her own drink. There’s a pause. “You should go dance with him.” You feel your cheeks heat up, but keep your composure.

“I don’t have time to mess around,” you state bluntly. Your posture sags a bit. “He’s busy, anyway.” Copia is leading another Sister onto the dance floor, taking the starting position as the ghoul band strikes up another tune. You zero in on the hand resting on her hip, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. It looks like her dress doesn’t have any pockets; the probability of her concealing anything is low.

Cirrus places a clawed hand on your shoulder and gives you a playful jostle. “For you? He’ll make time.” You give her a quizzical look and she winks, straightening back up before taking her leave. “Do it!” She calls. “I’ve got good money on you two getting together!” Your mouth hangs slightly agape, watching as she descends the stairs to rejoin the party.

You take another, longer sip of your champagne, relishing in the sensation of bubbles tickling your tongue. It helps take the edge off, if only a little. You remain up on your perch for another long while. Copia eventually abandons dancing in favor of strolling through the crowd, greeting and shaking hands with various high-profile guests. It’s harder to keep track of him this way, even from your vantage point, so once your glass is empty you descend the stairs, entering the fray for yourself. To your relief, no one pays you any mind as you weave through the mass of bodies. You spot a truly nameless ghoul carrying a tray of empty glassware and flag them down, depositing your glass. You’re about to find a better place to camp out when someone taps you on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, signorina strega.” You turn and sure enough, it’s Copia. He’s holding out a hand. “May I have this dance?” Multiple pairs of eyes are now focused on you. Swallowing hard, you flush, smiling nervously. It’s a little more attention than you’d like, but you reason that within arms reach of him is the best place to be right now.

It’s completely logical, not motivated by anything else.

“Of course, Frater Imperator,” you reply, bowing your head slightly. You make it a point to use his full title in front of the guests. “I would be honored.” Gingerly, you take his hand, and he leads you to the dance floor. You pick up your pace a bit so that you’re able to whisper in his ear. “I’m not very good.” Copia gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Do not worry. Just follow my lead.” As the last few bars of the current song play, Copia guides you into the starting position, placing his right hand delicately on your hip and holding the left out for you to take. You try not to think about how, even through the leather of his gloves, his hand is so warm. Having difficulty looking him in the eye, you glance over his shoulder in the brief moment of silence between songs. You see Cirrus, Rain, and Swiss gathered by the refreshments table, watching you with shit-eating grins plastered across their faces. The air ghoul flashes you a thumbs-up and you have to resist the urge to destroy her with your mind.

“Ready?” As if on cue, the band resumes playing. You recognize the song instantly: Waltz No. 2, Shostakovich. How woefully on brand. The dance begins, Copia stepping forward with his left foot while you, mirroring him, step back with the right. It’s easy enough to follow him after that, stepping to your left as he steps right, then forwards to start all over again.

“One, two, three. One, two, three. You’re a natural.” Once you find a steady rhythm, you’re able to look up from your feet and actually start to enjoy the feeling of whirling around the room.

“How are things?” He asks, clearly trying to remain nonchalant. There are so many eyes on you, and from the crowd you sense intrigue, amusement, and a significant amount of jealously.

“Fine, so far,” you reply through a smile, trying to make it as difficult as possible for people to read your lips. Copia nods.

“Bene.” A few beats pass. “Thank you for all your hard work. I appreciate you coming back after...” He looks away for a moment. “I appreciate it.” You didn’t do it for him and he knows that, but his expression of gratitude makes heat bloom in your chest nonetheless.

“I’m glad I did,” you say without thinking. “This place is different now. Good different, because of you.” Copia smiles, the skin around the corners of his eyes crinkling. He raises his left arm and you pass under it in a spin, feeling lighter than air.

“I had hoped you would be able to enjoy yourself tonight,” he admits, a hint of guilt in his eyes. “Instead it seems you are just fretting over me.” You quirk an eyebrow at him.

“It’s that ego of yours I’m worried about,” you tease. “Pretty soon there won’t be room for anyone else in this Ministry.” Both of you laugh at this.

“I had better check myself, then,” Copia says, running a hand through his mousy brown hair. “I would hate to see you leave again.” That catches you off guard and you nearly trip, but his hand finds your hip again, keeping you stable. By now, you’re certain he’s noticed the blush on your cheeks.

“Don’t worry. I’m not-“

Somewhere, an invisible thread snaps. It makes your stomach lurch, the color draining from your face. You pause, your playful expression melting away as you try to pinpoint the source of the disruption. The South Wing. It’s approaching fast. When you return to this plane Copia is looking at you with concern.

“I have to go,” you say quietly. He doesn’t have time to respond before you exit the dance floor, heading for the large double doors at the other end of the ballroom. It’s hard not to shove people out of the way as you duck and weave through the crowd. Dewdrop is at the entrance, minding his post, but as you approach it’s clear from the rigidity of his small body that he’s been waiting for you. He follows you wordlessly out into the hall. Kicking off your heels, the two of you take off in the direction of the intrusion. You internally curse your foolishness for talking yourself out of wearing sneakers, or even flats.

“It’s something nasty,” he says once you’re out of earshot of any guests. You can only nod in agreement, hoping the two of you are enough to deal with whatever this foul thing is.

You round the corner to the South Wing and stop dead in your tracks. The sight before you makes your blood run could. Charging towards you is a hulking creature, easily Mountain’s height but with Aether’s bulk. It’s clearly a humanoid figure, but its edges are poorly defined, a mist-like quality to them. Still, you observe shapes that resemble horns and a tail, and that tells you all you need to know: a rogue ghoul, not bound to this plane by a contract. As such, it’s less of a consolidated form and more of rampaging ball of fiendish energy. This information helps you narrow down the list of potential culprits exponentially.

There’s no time to dwell on that, though. The creature is headed straight for you, no doubt attracted to the smell of your human flesh. Before you can react, Dew puts himself between you and the ghoul, ready to engage. He’s strong in spite of his small size, but the odds of him defeating this massive a beast on his own, especially one this energized, are slim. You realize he’s buying you time to cast a spell, and immediately you formulate a plan in your head. It will take some time to accomplish, but if he can hold off this monstrosity for long enough, you should be able to successfully banish it back to the Pit without endangering him as well. Planting your feet, you take a deep breath, letting your eyes shut. There’s a whoosh of warm air as Dew charges the rogue ghoul. Energy begins to flow through you as you chant under your breath, crafting the spell. A metallic taste fills your mouth, the air crackling with static.

You’re about halfway through the incantation when the sound of a body hitting the floor breaks through your wall of concentration. The creature roars, forcing you to crack an eye open just in time to see it lunge at you. It’s covered in scratches and burns, but Dew is ultimately the one on the ground, desperately trying to pick himself back up. You’re only just able to side-step, the spell breaking as you focus all of your energy on surviving the next few seconds. You’re frantically backpedaling when it swipes at you, claws catching you in the side. You cry out as it tears through the flimsy red fabric of your dress, leaving three long gashes in its wake that begin bleeding immediately. Though profoundly painful it’s a superficial wound; if you had been stationary, there’s no doubt it would have disemboweled you. 

Your back hits the wall. Dew shouts your name but you just stand there, frozen. The creature is about to pin you when a large body slams into it from the side, knocking it to the ground. You immediately recognize the form as Aether, and looking in the direction from whence he came you see Cirrus, Swiss, Rain, Mountain, Sunshine, and Phantom, all approaching with teeth and claws bared. Cirrus gets to you first, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the scuffling ghouls.

“Are you-“ She finally notices you clutching your side, blood seeping into your dress. “Oh shit, are you okay?” You nod, lifting your hand to show her it’s minor. Phantom is helping Dew to his feet. He seems alright other than a few scratches, the fall appearing to have knocked the wind out of him more than anything.

“I’m fi-” Your heart nearly stops. “Is someone watching Imperator?”

“Cumulus and Aurora are with him,” she says. “They’ve got it under control.” You let out a relieved sigh, shoulders dropping. It’s only now you that you notice how much tension you’ve been holding in your body all night. Your body trembles with excess adrenaline.

Aether lets out a frustrated growl. You barely have time to look in his direction before the rogue ghoul, having slipped out of his grasp, hurls itself out of one of the long, gothic windows lining the hallway. Bits of stained glass go flying, scattering across the marble floor tiles. The creature is smart enough to recognize it’s been outnumbered. One-by-one the members of the pack leap through the broken portal, none of them too keen on letting the intruder escape. Dew tries to follow, clearly excited about the prospect of a hunt, but Cirrus shoos him away from the window.

“Go clean yourselves up,” she orders, perched on the ledge. It’s directed mostly at you. “We’ll take it from here.” With that, she jumps down, disappearing from view as the sound of the pack whooping and howling fades into the distance.

Twenty some-odd minutes and a round of healing magick later, you and Dew are sitting out on the steps of the back patio, passing a cigarette back-and-forth. By now, the rogue ghoul has most certainly been torn to ribbons. There could still be threats lurking, but for as much as you’d like to go find Copia, you’re nowhere near presentable and would prefer not to incite panic, or suspicion, among the guests. Besides, you’re hardly capable of doing anything now, your energy completely drained by the evening’s events. You only had enough juice left to stop your cuts from bleeding; anything physically strenuous would certainly reopen the wounds. For now, you’re content to enjoy the cool autumn air, knowing he’s in capable hands.

“There you are.” Speak of the Devil. You look over your shoulder and Copia is stepping out into night, flanked by Cumulus and Aurora. Clutched in one hand are your strappy red heels, and it’s only now that you realize you’re still barefoot. Dew, with a quiet groan, rises to his feet and climbs the stairs, passing Copia as he descends.

“We’re going to go take care of this one,” Cumulus says, draping an arm over the fire ghoul’s shoulder. It’s hard to tell in the dark, but for a moment you swear she winks at you. Dew tries to shrug her off with a huff, and the girls giggle. Copia nods approvingly.

“Thank you, miei cari. We will debrief in the morning.” The three ghouls turn and step back inside, leaving you and Copia on the stairs. Your heart beats a little faster with the realization that you two are alone, although you tell yourself it’s because you won’t be able to defend him in this state. There’s definitely no other reason.

“Your glass slippers, my lady.” You roll your eyes and reach out to take your shoes from Copia, but he refuses to hand them over, kneeling on the stair below you. “Allow me, per favore.”

This might as well be happening. Lifting your foot up, you grant him permission to assist you. Copia slides the first shoe back on, holding your calf with one hand. Again, you can’t help but notice how warm and gentle his touch is. 

“I’m sorry for running off,” you say, needing to break the silence. “I hope you didn’t think that-“

“Not at all. I figured that something was, eh, ‘going down.’” When he looks up he finally notices the gashes in your side. He hisses, wincing. “Ahia! That looks like it hurts.”

You wave him off. “’Tis but a scratch.” He looks like he’s going to protest, clearly upset, but instead opts to tighten the strap of your shoe before moving on to the next foot.

“What happened?” He asks, starting the process over again.

“Rogue ghoul,” you explain, looking out into the forest at the edge of the lawn. “Likely the work of Cardinal Ambrosius. He’s gotten in trouble for trying to make contracts before. Doesn’t look like he’s quite figured it out, though. I can have his head on your desk by Monday morning, if you’d like.” 

Copia laughs through his nose. “You are absolutely vicious, mia strega.”

You shrug. “Just doing my job.” Once Copia finishes with your other shoe he stands, offering you his hand.

“Walk with me?” 

You give him a hesitant look. “I don’t want to keep you from your guests.” He scoffs.

“I have had enough of those two-faced pricks for one night. A lifetime, even.” His expression softens. “But if you are not up for it, I-“

“No!” You shoot up, taking his hand. It startles him a little bit. “I’m good. Let’s go.” Copia smiles, the moonlight sparkling in his eyes. Like an obedient  lamb, you let him lead you down the rest of the stairs and across the patio to where a walkway wraps around the side of the building. He’s taking you to the gardens, it seems. Though your legs feel like jelly, the walk isn’t very long, which you’re thankful for.

The gardens aren’t really a sight to behold this time of year, but the full moon bathes everything in a mesmerizing blue glow, giving the space a dreamlike quality. The ballroom is just up another set of stairs, the music still audible where you emerge. You stop by the fountain, a marble visage of Lilith pouring water from a bottomless goblet. The water is still running, providing a little extra ambiance.

“Care to dance?” Copia asks. “We were so tragically interrupted before.”

“I…” Damn you and your nerves. You’re blushing again. “I don’t want to get blood all over you.”

Still, he persists, shrugging. “It’s a black suit.” It’s hard to say no to that face, but the McQueen jacket? Really? He gives you a pleading look and your resolve instantly crumbles.

“Alright.” It’s all but a whisper. “But go easy on me.”

You don’t wait for the next song to start, you simply get in position and go from there. It’s slower than what you danced to before, and you two end up just swaying to the rhythm rather than following any steps. That’s fine with you, your legs are still shaking, though you can’t tell if it’s from exertion or something else entirely.

“You look beautiful,” Copia says after a few measures. In that time you two have drifted closer together, only a few inches between you now. It’s hard to look him in the eyes when your face is so embarrassingly red, so you choose to stare at the ground.

“I’m a mess.” You laugh, but there’s something bitter in it as your eyes wander to your soiled dress, torn and bloody. There was a silly, naive part of you that had been thinking of Copia when you selected it for this evening. He stops swaying, a hand finding your chin and gently lifting your head. In your opinion, he’s the beautiful one, practically glowing in the moonlight. 

“Nonsense. You are the fairest of them all, cara.” You roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth draw up into a slight smile.

“You’re getting your fairytales mixed up.” The two of you share a laugh before dissolving into a few moments of comfortable silence. You can tell he’s thinking about something, and he looks away, clearly nervous.

“Did you mean what you said about coming back?” The question catches you off guard for a second.

“I did,” you finally respond. “I really did. This place feels like home again.” Swallowing, you decide to take a bit of a leap. “Did you mean what you said, about me leaving?” You haven’t discussed it in a long time, but when you first took the job, the understanding was that this was only a temporary arrangement, lasting at least until Copia was able to settle into his new position. The notion pains you now. He nods.

“Yes. I-“ He chuckles. “I cannot stand the thought. Signorina strega, say that you will stay with us, with me.”

You don’t even need to think about it. “I will. Of course I will.” Copia beams, and the sight is breathtaking. There’s another pause, the air between you charged with an energy more powerful than magick. In the ballroom, the final notes of the song ring out, though you hardly notice. A bomb could go off next to you, but even that wouldn’t be enough to pull you out of this moment.

“Beautiful…” You don’t protest when he cups your flushed cheek, running his thumb across the bone. “May I kiss you?” It takes everything you have to not melt into a puddle.

“Please.”

And then his lips — Sathanas, they’re soft —  are on yours. Stars explode behind your eyes as he presses into you, the hand on your hip to pulling you in closer. His body is so warm against you; it feels so right. Your heart is racing, head spinning, as the euphoria overtakes you. 

He kisses you until you’re both out of breath. When he finally pulls away, you want to chase after him, to kiss him until your lips fall off, but then your knees buckle. Copia is just barely able to catch you, letting out a surprised little noise you can’t help but find adorable. He seems less concerned when he sees you’re grinning like an idiot.

“Alas, I have killed her!” You both laugh as he helps you regain your balance. “Why don’t we sit down?” Humming in agreement, he leads you over to the fountain, sitting you down on the edge. He brushes a strand of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. “Are you sure you are alright?”

“Just peachy,” you say, gazing at your intertwined hands. “It’s been a long night.” Feeling bold and still a bit woozy, you bring Copia’s hand to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. 

“Ah, young love.” You both jolt, heads snapping in the direction of the voice. Before you stand the glowing specters of Papa Nihil and Sister Imperator. The old man has a wistful, nostalgic look on his face, while your former teacher observes with her arms crossed. How long have they been watching you? “Just like we once were, don’t you think?” Imperator huffs.

“I sure hope not.” Her focus falls on you. The wrath in her translucent blue yes makes your blood freeze. “You think you’re good enough for my son, girl?” For a moment, you’re completely speechless.

“I-“

“Are you two serious right now,” Copia shouts. “Get out of here! Go on! Get!” He gets up from the fountain to shoo them away. Imperator gives you a pointed look before dissolving into a blue mist. Her message is clear: this isn’t over. You gulp.

Copia groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I cannot believe those two. I finally get to have my moment with you, and then they go and spoil it!” He flops back down next to you, sighing. “I am sorry, bella. I understand if-“

“Forget about it,” you say, holding up your hand to silence him. “Just kiss me, like, forever.”

Copia happily obliges.