#✦ verse i — ⊰ the arrangement ⊱

[mapleandgingeroatmeal]

William A. Wellman’s as Chuck Harm is such an incredibly funny and very inside baseball joke for people way too into horror podcasts. Of course they’d be the guy bearing witness to the horrors and narrating them to a watching audience. Who else could you possibly cast in that role.

[xflashbastardx]

@puck-the-devil - continued from [X]

Annoyed already (and really, "annoyed" was putting it mildly), Crowley closed his eyes, focused, and didn't open them again until he was sure the iris had receded and the white sclera was visible again.

"Let's get one thing straight---I'm not here to be anyone's source of entertainment."

While yes, of course, Crowley was wondering who this intruder was, the more pressing question was what. Not an angel, surely not. His flat was warded against them (well, save for one). And no demon would come to him if they'd heard rumours of him doing good, they'd run straight to Beelzebub and rat him out. Speaking of which, best to put that accusation---however true it may be---to rest as soon as possible. Guard up, Crowley leveled a suspicious glare at the being floating before him.

"Do you believe every rumour you hear?"

[braskide]

slams my fist on the table. political dinners and galas. post sin yevon/bevelle still having remains of a monarchy/highly poiitical city. yuna being an influencial figure still subject to desire of being manipulated by the last religious figures by arranging meetings with their sons and daughters. yuna being more straightforward but also just tired of having to adapt to the new political scheme and game. still coming on top regardless. political relations. trusting only a few members. not really trusting anyone anymore because spira will always be hiding evil underneath. the insability of the farplane playing a big role into the new power figures. RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH —

[ultimateinferno]

As we approach KoWT (not calling it WaT. Its full name may be Wind and Truth but KoWT is its acronym) I was hoping to attempt an animatic to this song as a send off for part 1 of Stormlight because the lyrics super fucking vibe with it but surprise surprise, no dice. Maybe I'll do it in time for December.

[malkaleh]

JOAN.

Dauphine of France. Princess of Scotland. Princess of Albion. Queen Regnant of Scotland. Queen of England. The Half Breed Heathens Whore Of A Wife. My Darling Wise Thistle. Little Wise Eyed. Jeanne.

Though Joan’s father died not six months after her birth his love for her was remarked upon - indeed it was said that he could hardly bear to be apart from her. His death was something her mother Mary never recovered from despite two subsequent marriages and the reminder of him in her black haired and grey eyed daughter seems to have been a mixture of grief and solace to her. Joan proved to be a serious child - interested in books, archery and riding but with a keen talent for music she was included in and educated in rulership from a young age, particularly by her paternal grandmother who remarked that she saw ‘very much of Marguerite of Navarre in her’ she was excellent at politics, at rulership and in her concern and interest in the lives of all her people but she was not warm and nor did she have the charisma and ability to draw the eye of her mother, something that drew unfavourable comparisons. Her marriage was made out of pragmatism on her part and no one was more surprised than Joan when it turned into love.

(inspired in part by this edit by @emilykaldwen (ABBY MY BELOVED))

[mackmp3]

you got me into the song hares on the mountain a while ago and I gotta see I listen to it often and it rules. i recently found the version by Fern Maddie and I think it's especially gorgeous and haunting.

oh my god i've never even heard of that version but you are so right aughhhhhhhh my new favourite arrangement of that song.............. augh thank youuuuu

[deathschallenger]

someone said vampire werewolf bride situation. i said yes. // @deathsconsort

this has to be some sort of cosmic joke, he's dressed in a tuxedo standing in front of a preacher with his best friends beside him. except he's never imagined himself married. dead? well, more dead? yeah. on a battlefield? definitely. but fuckin' standing in front of a preacher with a satin ribbon around his neck as he fights the urge to flee.

ironically, he doesn't want to flee out of concern for himself. but out of concern for the woman he's to wed. he's seen her a few times. the sort of woman that prince's got to marry, people like rhysand, even bastards like azriel. the kind of woman who marries vampires who carry themselves like royalty. not the kind of woman who marries the turned bastard of a whore and her customer.

this line of thinking has his fangs extending, pricking at the soft flesh inside his lower lip. a deep breath. a breath that brings to his nostril the overwhelming scents of humanity. this was a fair trade they'd said. one of their women, for one of the advisors of the vampire court.

azriel's affection lay elsewhere, and honestly no one could make him do anything he didn't want to do. and rhysand? well after his last fifty years, he'd deserved a break. so. cassian had volunteered. sure maybe he wasn't a catch. but he had position. he'd take care of her. and he knew he'd never force this bride into anything she didn't consent to.

his single rule and insistence had been, she consents to this wedding, this marriage.

and, he'd been surprised when she had.

now she's walking down the aisle, a vision in white and lace. her silver ice eyes shining through the veil. he can feel that gaze. he can feel the hidden claws beneath her skin as she takes his arm. they haven't given him just a human bride. they've given him a she wolf.

rhysand scents it at the same time cassian has made his realisation, but his eyes shift to his friends. an infinitesimal shake of his head. there's a reason. there's a reason she's here. there's a reason she agreed to this. and rhysand steps back.

the vows go as vows do. and all cassian remembers is the words he finaly murmurs.

' i do. '

and hers in return.

[winterreigned]

@prodigum wanted pain , now get hurt // au where no one leaves winterfell. sansa spots theon returning from winter town one night. </3

𝗿𝘂𝗺𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗹𝗲. the servants are vibrant as day when they whisper about the lives of the lords and ladies of house stark. sansa is not ignorant to it , she hears every bit of gossip , jeyne and beth coming to sansa with what they hear amongst castle walls. this isn't anything unusual , though the subject matter on hand is : beth overhears her father discussing sansa's apparent betrothal. news of this delights her , for at the age of sixteen , many wondered when eddard stark would finally wed off his eldest daughter. he had been reluctant to make any marriage pacts , for even her eldest brother robb remained unpromised. though , hearing news of who she is betrothed to leaves her .. well , she's not entirely sure.

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘺𝘫𝘰𝘺 ──── a tricky subject. sansa cannot quite remember a time when theon wasn't at winterfell , where his stupid smile and arrogance hadn't been robb's shadow. they were at each other's throats , dynamically opposed on all such matters. even when they agreed , they somehow found a way to disagree. yet all the same , sansa cannot find it in herself to say she dislikes theon. he's a challenge , a worthy sparring partner with matters of words. she cannot deny he's entertaining , even if she'd never let this confession see the light of day. perhaps there had always been a level of intrigue , hidden attraction. as a girl she couldn't help but picture him as the knight in those poems she so loved , but she always blamed it on the fact that he was the only boy around her that wasn't related to her.

he had his faults , she cannot deny that either. his habits of loitering in whorehouses and being wildly inappropriate. lords of the iron islands were another breed of their own , and she cannot hide the disgust when he'd brag about salt wives and the ravaging the iron born did. marrying theon had complications , and the thought of being a lady at pyke leaves her mildly nauseous. in truth , she couldn't see her father shipping her off to the iron islands , no place for a true lady such as sansa. is this arrangement even true? ( for her father has muttered nothing to her of the subject , though the way his eyes avoid her lately and her mother has gone cold tell her there must be truth to this gossip ).. perhaps the plan is for them to remain north , to keep sansa close while managing to put a boot on balon greyjoy's neck. yes , that makes sense. or so she'd like to convince herself. for that is the only way she could even get herself to consider such a marriage.

sansa hadn't told anyone of this , her sister would freak out , or laugh for days upon days. robb would surely dislike this , jon even more. was theon even aware his fate was being sewn together by the very men who took him from his home all those years ago? jeyne mentioned that king robert himself had been apart of drawing up these betrothal terms. sansa decides tomorrow morning she'll tell theon , risking humiliation , perhaps an argument or two. but he's entitled to know this , she owes him that much.

yet , despite this , her feet carry her towards his quarters. she's aware it's an ungodly hour , she's aware of what would be muttered in the newest bouts of gossip if she's found. but sansa simply doesn't care , the anxiety of this situation being bottled up was too much. if she were going to spill over , it may as well be to the one this impacted just as much. her fist is raised to knock on his door , but before flesh can meet wooden frame , she smells heavy perfume. it tickles her nose , twisting it up in distaste. it smelled like a whorehouse , or what she imagined one to smell like from tales she's heard amongst the young men at winterfell. she turns away to sneeze , though eyes find theon before her. he's palpably confused as to what she could possibly be doing outside his door at this hour , though sansa's far too ──── hurt? heart broken? betrayed? to even offer an explanation.

how foolish. she knew theon , she knew how there had yet to be a whore in wintertown he hadn't fancied. this was the man her father wanted to entangle her with , the one she even DARED consider for a minute. allowed herself to perhaps even picture the children they'd have , heads of raven and red , the lives they'd live. naive sansa , always diving in heart first and pretending to live life like some sort of fairy tale. he stood before her , disheveled and pleased with himself. no clue the anguish within her , the way her heart beat ferociously , each thud in her chest new shards broke off , scraping along her chest in a tale of heartache. her face shades red , eyes blinking back tears.

pathetic , she mourns for the life she managed to convince her they could have had. the one he cannot provide her , because he is theon , and she is sansa , and this simply could never be. she mourns for the life they will have to live , man and wife , though there will always be others in his bed. sansa mourns for their children , who will never see their parents in love and happy as she had. most importantly , she mourns for herself , for the little girl who dreamed of knights and princes , of a strapping lord who would whisk her off her feet. it is a culmination of this grief , and the hurt she feels that he could even sleep with someone else when he was hers ( not that he was even aware of this ) that causes her to lash out , tongue an unusually cruel weapon against a unsuspecting innocent.

❝ you truly are the most vile man i know , ❞ she spits , turning on her heels , storming off. when she turns the corner of the hall separating their rooms , she runs. it doesn't help either , when the next evening at dinner her father announces their betrothal for all the north to hear. when a feast is to be held in its honor , when the king himself will venture north for this. ( history is to be made , the north and iron islands ── foes within the realm , to be united in such a way. think of it sweetling , her father says , you are helping to bring peace to the realm. king robert has given you and theon such an honor to do this for all of us. ) she didn't see this. she just saw heart break.

[flamesignite]

Blitzo

On anon or not, tell me who you ship my character with.

"How interesting to hear that someone thinks Blitz and I are a good match for each other. It's interesting learning about him as I get to know him better and I do enjoy his company and having conversations with him. He's got a fiery personality and it's refreshing to say the least." Little does everyone know about the arrangement they have together.

mentioned @blitzbuckz

[quccninchains]

| @kingmaketh sent: [ GAZE ]  sender taking receiver’s jaw and saying “look at me” during sex or foreplay. / but in the most sensual/playful way

{☾} Their legs were tangled in the soft sheets of their bed, their bodies joined together in the dim candlelight. It had been only a fortnight since their arranged wedding, and although she was slowly coming out of her shell as they conversed and grew to know one another--Alicent still found reason to be shy in their bedroom.

She'd never deny it felt good now. His lips on hers, his fingers carefully threading through her hair, the way their bodies rolled against each other. She starting to even find some enjoyment when her husband pulled her astride him, her soft thighs wrapping around his as she straddled him. The noises he managed to coax from her felt so INTIMATE and sacred--whines and moans and gasps as his expert hands and lips explored her body.

Her eyes had been closed, afraid to see TEASING or shame in Criston's eyes--afraid to see JUDGEMENT or displeasure in his wife--all things she couldn't bear to see in his face as she slowly fell in LOVE with him.

Her fingers explored the sides of his chest as one of her legs curled at his waist--pulling him closer to her through his gentle thrusts. Sweat glistened along their chests and arms, her neck comfortably warm from the line of KISSES he's placed along tender skin. She felt insatiable, craving the taste of his lips and the sturdy warmth of his body against hers and the welcome feel of him inside of her, brushing against her most secret of places.

She's come to recognize certain gestures of his elicits reactions that warm her cheeks--even something a small as his smile caressed her heart--or the playful way he WINKED at her while they sat side by side at dinner.

She's falling in LOVE with her husband.

Alicent leaned her head back against the pillows, her hair spilling over the side of the bed as her eyes squeeze shut as his hips move into hers. A quiet moan slips from her lips as her fingers lightly dig into his shoulders, both calves resting along the dip in his back. She feels warm fingers on her chin, lightly tilting her head down.

'Look at me.'

Brown eyes flutter open to meet his and his smile, slow and SENSUAL, tugs her own lips into mirroring his. Their eyes meet, even as they move together, her eyes searching for disapproval and finding NONE. Only matching adoration and affection. "I see you," Alicent breathed out, a hand reaching up to cup his face. "I see you--only you," she repeats, twinkling under his gaze. She lifts her chin, lightly pressing a kiss to his thumb, before stealing his lips.

[theinfinitedivides]

Springsteen hours on main rn not apologizing for that but the Broadway version of Born in the USA......................... my God

[xflashbastardx]

@thatsineffable - continued from [X]

Just to really emphasize his bad mood, Crowley slouched down ever lower on the bench and glowered across the duck pond.

"Oh, sure there is," he drawled, with absolutely no intention of answering with even a hint of honesty. Because while yes, there were actually countless things about earth and humanity (and, most of all, the angel sitting beside him) that he enjoyed, Crowley was feeling...difficult today.

"Doing evil deeds. Causing mischief. Sowing discord. You know, that sort of thing. Love it. Can't get enough of it," his voice was heavy with sarcasm and he didn't expect Aziraphale to buy one word of it.

[mimihagis]

one muse seeks comfort from a loveless marriage with the other, their lover (OH LOOK, CAS!)

He hated this; sneaking out in the late hours in hopes of finding sanctuary and being made to feel so criminal for doing so. The arrangement with the Tsunayashiro clan was written in stone, it was to be made in an effort to secure the unruly and troublesome sibling of his away from the threat of execution in the events following his latest escapades. Ukitake loved his family, he always made efforts to support them through all hardships -- and using the funds he made whilst Shinigami, he had relative ease in doing so. Up until the latest spree that had even his influence as a captain overshadowed, overpowered, by the corrupt judges in Central 46. Tokinada had them wrapped around his finger, and now Ukitake was much alike in that regard.

He hated it. He hated what was taken from him in the process -- the ability to ever marry his true love, his soulmate, his most beloved. The strain their relationship underwent within the past week alone was more than what Ukitake could handle on top of the terrifying realization that he was wed to a monster...

So he couldn't really help himself -- he wept the moment Shunsui came into view. He'd been holding back tears for several days straight, now, not wanting to further feed Tokinada's sadism by showcasing such vulnerability within the thin walls of his estate. Here, however, in Shunsui's arms -- he was safe.

There were no words needed, nothing could've possibly sufficed in describing how he felt, but there were visible signs of fatigue, sleepless nights spent on edge. He wasn't even allowed to remain within the Gotei 13 -- retired, formally, by the Tsunayashiro's strong influence. They hoarded him, kept him practically locked away... and for what? Such a senseless cruelty dumbfounded him, he couldn't quite comprehend the why of it all. His typically understanding and compassionate heart was too hurt to offer itself to the lurking predator that slept in bed with him. He'd gone into this braced, prepared for an ache but the deed had been absolutely necessary.

Now? He mourned, he hated himself for regretting it -- for regretting saving his sibling from the gallows. He hated himself for thinking that his love life was more important, selfishly, and he hated that he couldn't stop himself from daydreaming about another way, another possibility, just to save himself the dread of knowing that this would be his life for the next centuries to come. If he lived that long. Illnesses spiked when emotions ran high and terrible, he'd gotten ill the first few days spent at the estate -- more to come, he was certain, given how tired he felt, how stretched-thin he was.

No, Ukitake couldn't say a word to his partner, he merely buried his face to that broad chest and wept, wept, wept.

[zippers]

ultimately happy with how this is turning out lyric wise... though i'm sure when my cousin gets his hands on it he will transform the flow XD

[littlenim]

the lyrics on the Beyonce JOLENE 🤨😬😬

[theothervonkarmagirl]

"I don't even need to ask, I know my mother would promise both of us to someone if it worked out politically."

"She tried to do it to my brother before. Daddy flipped out."