(no subject)
Meme answer. Jesus christ.
Oh my fuck I can't believe I am doing this.
Everything was his.
That was a given. A simple phrase, a simple need. Everything was his to be owned, to be possessed, to be coveted and held for as long as he lasted. Money, power, sex, status - he had done the speech a thousand times, said it to all that would listen. Some gave way to his fancies, bent over and gave, gave, gave. Others though? They were spoken for, tied in knots.
Two in particular had captured him, though. The old man and his wife - they were a thing of absolute beauty, a treasure. Javert had won him in a fair game, played his cards, and tricked the devil into giving away his violin. On the side lines, the woman cheered and pressed her husband. A dangerous duo that promised a fun time, if not a dangerous one.
Greed loved no one, that was true. But he loved his possessions.
And while maybe, just maybe, they could never be his, he could think on it. Catch all their notes on his feed, save them for another time. Beckon them when he thought something of interest would actually get their attention. And he could drink them in when the pair showed up at his door. Never touching, always watching.
Javert would give him the cold shoulder. Always crisp and thin, like a knife. Naomi would give him a warm smile, cool promises. And he would take them all, with a smile and a laugh. Because who really needed to know?
He'd stay up, thinking about it. Thinking about them. When sleep wasn't an option and the bar could no longer hold his attention. When he was alone in his Den of Thieves, the fan lulling him into a false sense of feeling. A placid feeling. It would always come down to them.
"I'll just have to keep an eye out for other ways that I can tempt you into spending time with just me..."
"You know where to send for me should you have want or need of me..."
Greed laughed and shot back scotch. Drowned down his thoughts in it before picking himself up from a stool. Want. Needs. Desire. What was avarice but those? And what was a gold band between friends, between his things.
Oh my fuck I can't believe I am doing this.
Everything was his.
That was a given. A simple phrase, a simple need. Everything was his to be owned, to be possessed, to be coveted and held for as long as he lasted. Money, power, sex, status - he had done the speech a thousand times, said it to all that would listen. Some gave way to his fancies, bent over and gave, gave, gave. Others though? They were spoken for, tied in knots.
Two in particular had captured him, though. The old man and his wife - they were a thing of absolute beauty, a treasure. Javert had won him in a fair game, played his cards, and tricked the devil into giving away his violin. On the side lines, the woman cheered and pressed her husband. A dangerous duo that promised a fun time, if not a dangerous one.
Greed loved no one, that was true. But he loved his possessions.
And while maybe, just maybe, they could never be his, he could think on it. Catch all their notes on his feed, save them for another time. Beckon them when he thought something of interest would actually get their attention. And he could drink them in when the pair showed up at his door. Never touching, always watching.
Javert would give him the cold shoulder. Always crisp and thin, like a knife. Naomi would give him a warm smile, cool promises. And he would take them all, with a smile and a laugh. Because who really needed to know?
He'd stay up, thinking about it. Thinking about them. When sleep wasn't an option and the bar could no longer hold his attention. When he was alone in his Den of Thieves, the fan lulling him into a false sense of feeling. A placid feeling. It would always come down to them.
"I'll just have to keep an eye out for other ways that I can tempt you into spending time with just me..."
"You know where to send for me should you have want or need of me..."
Greed laughed and shot back scotch. Drowned down his thoughts in it before picking himself up from a stool. Want. Needs. Desire. What was avarice but those? And what was a gold band between friends, between his things.