#Armitage Fan Blog

[acheronist]

Hello! (@saints-who-never-existed here, otherwise unable to reply/message properly due to this being a side-blog)

First of all, just wanted to say that I'm a big fan of the work you've been doing on examining and decoding the Peglar Papers. Absolutely outstanding stuff! <3 Secondly, I hope you don't mind me offering my (entirely unsolicited but professional!) two cents on your post regarding pencil lines on the page with the Open C poem?

In short, I'd like to raise the opinion that the lines we're seeing on the paper may not be pencil lines but 'chain' lines from the paper production process. Wider-spaced 'chain' lines and narrower 'laid' lines come from the wire mesh on which the paper was made (typically a feature of handmade paper but by this point in history it would've been possible to produce them mechanically). Either way, it certainly does appear that Peglar/Armitage/the author did utilise the lines to keep their writing neat. :D

Anyway, do with that information what you will and feel free to ignore. Just thought it might be of interest to you and this seemed the best way to communicate it. <3

OHHHHH this is fascinating and so appreciated actually!! 🖤🖤🖤 I’m always ready to hear other ideas about this wallet I think about it constantly and love to see other interpretations

the only reason I assumed they were pencil marks at first is because the rondel / “terror camp clear” circle does seem to meeee to be traced out in pencil? which may have very likely been a circle compass (which would make sense to be on a navy ship), or maybe he traced around the diameter of a cup or something similarly round, so I had assumed the use of pencil marks as a sketch/guide would have been applicable on other sheets too… i hadn’t even considered they were part of the actual page’s manufacturing process but that’s such a smart insight omg!!!! ok my overly romantic idea cancelled, this feels so much more likely

[darthstitch]

the professor wet cat fandom

Imagine that you're a Rose Walker fan.

You remember the first time you saw her book Into the Night on the shelves of your favorite bookstore. Let's face it - the intriguing cover art and the title caught your attention. The synopsis on the book jacket and a quick skim of the first chapter made you bring that book to the counter. Something about the story just resonates with you, the aching sense of loss and grief that Briar, the main character, had felt, the headlong rush into adventure that was a means to escape that sorrow, beckoned by the enigmatic King of All Night's Dreaming.

You read that book in two days. And then you read it all over again. Rose has just opened up a universe that you don't want to leave.

Then the audiobook is released. The voice who did the reading is incredible, a voice that's deep and resonant, like the voice inside your head, seducing you into the very heart of Night.

Everyone thinks it's an actor like Richard Armitage or that other guy with the cheekbones whose name everyone just loves to mangle, Betadyne Carrotene or whatever but he's not credited at all. Either way, you're all in agreement about this.

It's the voice of the King of All Night's Dreaming, the voice of the Prince of Stories.

Fine, you and everyone else just fell in love with the antagonist of Rose's novel. He's not really evil, more a neutral entity than anything else. But he was a bit of a bastard to poor Briar, even though you can understand the reasoning behind his manipulations. He's described as beautiful and mysterious and very charismatic.

Of fucking course he'll be internet catnip. Edward Cullen whomst? Tumblr and Twitter are fighting over their new precious blorbo. There's meta and fan art based off Rose's description of him in the novel and yes, you're among those who check AO3 every day for brand new fan fiction.

You end up trying to find all the articles about Rose Walker. She's a lovely young woman who looks around your age and she talks about going back to university and continuing her studies. She's all mysterious about her voice actor, only saying that "he wants to stay anonymous and really, I got him to promise that he'll read the next book for me!"

And everyone in the fandom rejoices because Rose just officially confirms that there's a sequel.

You're among the first to hit the bookstores when the sequel The Prince of Stories comes out. The cover art is gorgeous, somewhat reminiscent of Yoshitaka Amano or Ayami Kojima, a rendering of the Prince in glorious detail - the fantastic costume in black and gold, the wild black hair, the pale skin, the fine features and the brilliant blue eyes.

On second look, the Prince looks strangely familiar.

Rose Walker doesn't disappoint. The sequel is just as good as the original, expanding a little more on the character of the Prince of Stories. There's also a new character joining Briar and her brother in their adventures all over the Land of Night's Dreaming. He's something of a rogue and adventurer straight out of medieval England, charming, mischievous but ultimately quite noble and kind.

You start chortling at his scenes with the Prince, which are so obviously charged with UST. Everybody to kingdom come is going to start shipping those two. You hit Tumblr and already, there's a goddamn ship name. Oh, this is going to be fun.

You scroll through the blog posts, enjoying the fan art, the fan fiction and the meta and then you see this post:

Is the Prince of Stories based on a real person?

And there's a screenshot of a dedication on Rose Walker's book:

For Uncle Dream, our Prince of Stories.

Oh, come on.

So out of curiosity, you do a little more digging. Rose Walker also has a blog, in which she entertainingly talks about the writing process, answers asks with humor and wit and occasionally, she talks about her family. The antics of her little brother are hilarious. There are also stories about her great-grandmother Unity, who she had tragically only known for a short time, and then stories about her recently found "Uncle Dream."

You can see why the other blog poster had started to blur fiction with reality. Rose's descriptions of her Uncle Dream oddly matches up to the King of All Night's Dreaming, with some added extras, because obviously, magical anthropomorphic personifications of dreams and nightmares do not wander around in Real Life.

Apparently, he's also an adorkable wet cat of a man who unfailingly helped her with the writing process, giggled with her brother over his superhero comics and was completely gone on his husband the history professor.

Hang on a minute. Some of the details sound really familiar.

"Uncle Dream" also teaches on occasion at university, keeps a raven as a companion and is known to talk to him like they really understand each other, outrageously flirts with his husband the history professor in Middle English, in iambic pentameter and in Shakespearean quotations, even if said history professor loathes Shakespeare...

You suddenly raise your head up from your phone because your literature professor just walks in, holding on to a copy of Rose Walker's newest book.

Holy shit. No way.

"Professor Murphy, we didn't know you were a fan of Rose Walker," one of your classmates say.

Professor Murphy has a proud smile on his face. "My niece has quite the story to tell. I've been looking forward to reading her next book."

You can't help it and now, hearing his Voice, you're also suddenly dead sure who Rose Walker's audiobook reader is too. "You're Rose Walker's Uncle Dream?!"

Eventually, you all get to explain to Professor Murphy why you want his autograph as well as his niece's on your books. He's still a little confused about that but he's fairly gracious about it.

He's amused and is barely able to contain his laughter when everyone starts asking if the dashing rogue "Captain Gadlen" is based on Professor Robert Gadling. For once, Professor Murphy neither confirms or denies anything.

-end-

[dirtbag-linecook-kyloren]

10 characters/10 fandoms

YESSS THANK YOU @jaynesilver FINALLY MY WIDE READING OF FIC COMES IN HANDYYY

We're gonna go chronologically through my life because I think that's REALLY FUN (I legit couldn't choose a west wing character just know that if there's a secret 11th character is the ensemble cast of the west wing)

Artemis Fowl, Artemis Fowl

My first antihero, and we started YOUNG on that, I was reading these books premiddle school. I was obsessed with these books as a kid, and I'm still obsessed with them today. There's rumors of a third, more adult series when Artemis and Holly may get together and I will EAT THAT SHIT UP I LOVE THEM

2. Vexen, Kingdom Hearts

I Legit think this man primed me to enjoy Hux as a character. Like, I'm not kidding, I was obsessed with him as a kid. I'm 90% certain I wrote deviant art fan fic, but I have since abandoned that account so it's hard to know for sure if it ever got published. I was definitely roll playing at age, like, 13? way too young but god I loved him he was BATSHIT

3. Ianto Jones, Torchwood

Man, I can't really explain how much Ianto Jones as a character, he and Jack's kiss on screen, their relationship, and the events of the 456 changed me? It was DEEP though, I woke up the next day a different person, with much less trust in television writer's and their good intentions.

4. Desmond Miles, Assassin's Creed

We have to jump a few years to mid high school, because no joke I was on that Kingdom Hearts train for a WHILE. I love him, he was probably my first blorbo, before the term was invented. I tried to play the games after (MAJOR SPOILER) but I just couldn't do it. They didn't have the draw without him.

5. Stiles Stilinski, Teen Wolf

Now we've hit late high school, arguably my second blorbo. As a kid with ADHD, he was no joke valuable representation to me, even if it was sometimes played for laughs. I was also the least athletic kid on multiple sports teams who still tried really hard, so I got him, yknow?

6. Will Graham, Hannibal

It's legit tough for me to chose if I like the Will Graham of the books or the TV show better. (Don't ask me about the movies, I haven't seen them, and I probably won't. Movies and I have trouble. See: ADHD.) I'm not sure if he's a blorbo or just like, a regular character I like? My hannibal phase was my last 8 year ship, so the line is pretty blurred.

Now we've reached the part where I dived into a lot of fandoms at once, because I dropped out of college and kind of did a weird spiral? Idk, we've lost chronology is what I'm saying

7. Artemis Crock, Young Justice

god I cannot say enough good things about her and I also cannot express how much (MAJOR SPOILER) made me mad FOR HER. Like it was cruel specifically to her and we should talk more about that, honestly. She was definitely a blorbo, but we're still PRE blorbo as a word in my vocabulary.

8. Darcy Lewis, MCU

My first real fandom bicycle, I ship her with everyone from Loki to Agent Coulson to Natasha. As someone who often feels like the comic relief character in their own life, I appreciate her.

9. Kent Parson, OMG Check Please

My sweet, sweet disaster son. My emotionally constipated hockey boy. The reason captain america is my SECOND favorite character with a birthday on the Fourth of July. I love him, he was amazing, and also my first experience with like, really toxic fandom was being so mad when people tried to equate his canon mental health issues with a noncanon, imagined abuse?? It was wild, I ended up so distressed about it i did have to leave the fandom.

10. Armitage Hux, Star Wars

I mean you've been on my blog for like ten seconds i think it's obvious?? The others needed explanations but like YOURE HERE YOU KNOW

WAIT I FORGOT TO TAG PEOPLE SHIT @sariastrategos @gingersnappish @fallingdeeperintothispit

[transman-badass]

I wanted to have a big fancy announcement for this but life happened and it sucked so

For fans of my various Cthulhu Mythos stuff, set in the Pharaoh Syndicate Investigations verse: my goal for the first two weeks of July is to create an outline for Through the Yellow Window 2.0. I just didn't like it as a short story so I'm remaking it as a novella. Like this post to be added to this experiment of mine.

I'm gonna eventually have a nice fancy WIP intro for this but for now, have the summary under the cut

Lazarus Core is dead. The Harbinger of the Pharaoh Syndicate is all that's left. Like a dog, he obeys the commands of his master, no matter how demeaning, cruel or gruesome they may be. And Nathan O'Tipp is not known for his mercy.

Sent to investigate a suspicious incident at Miskatonic University's Orne Library, the Harbinger finds the worst of all signs waiting for him: the Sign of the King in Yellow painted on a wall. He destroys it but it's too late. Carcosa takes him. There Harbinger finds friendship with a familiar woman. She knows his name. It doesn't keep either of them safe. Captured by the Duke of Carcosa, the Harbinger alone is sent back to Earth with a message for his master. Only as he recovers from that nightmare does he recognize the woman - the woman who vanished off Miskatonic's campus, as Amie DuPont, his childhood friend. And the Harbinger will do anything for his friends.

Weaving in and out of Carcosa both sleeping and awake, the Harbinger dodges the Duke and his friends in a desperate attempt to rescue Amie. But it's not just them he's working against. Several Professors of Miskatonic University, led by head librarian Henry Armitage and his son William, are also looking for the disappeared woman. They don't realize the depth of the situation they're walking into, and the Harbinger may not be able to help them.

He may not be able to help himself, either. With every defiant action he takes, the Court grows more and more interested in his existence. The Duke becomes curious. The King recognizes him. The Harbinger will do anything for his friends, but when the past he's tried to outrun comes calling, what will he be able to do for himself?

@slenders1ckn3ss @jacquesfindswritingandadvice @redacted-metallum @actualblanketgremlin @higgs-space @phantomnations @mushabumi @assistantdirector--janson @aldhidbah @sabtael @yourheartonfireblog @jade-island-lives @arsenwormwood @cecuesta @darkhorse-javert @comicgoblinart @lizadomuch @minutiaewriter @angelsofprey @izzyspussy @passthebeat-blog-blog @dragonedged-if @andromedaexists @cyanide-latte @lillis-writes @suckerpunchfemale @late-to-the-fandom

[p-redux]

Hi P, I recently followed you and just really appreciate your blog, knowledge and respect to actors. I especially appreciate your mission of just finding the truth. I have a strong opinion about your latest post.

I'm a complete nobody, but had my 15 minutes of fame in 2012 when The Hobbit was coming out; somehow tweeting funny LOTR/Hobbit memes led to retweets, replies and eventually ongoing, super amiable, memorable, respectful and endearing conversations with Graham McTavish, Jed Brophy, Richard Armitage AND Royd Tolkien. Royd actually slid into DMs; I remember googling "pwoar" since it was his opening message and I didn't know Brit English slang. Tldr; I mention this ALL to say: If I EVER was blessed with such an opportunity to even have a split second to converse with a dream actor, acting and talking and behaving like this woman is the utter OPPOSITE of what you want to do. You need to be respectful as fuck, in my opinion if you've somehow gained precious access to open convo, you need to RESPECT IT. Don't abuse it! Don't bombard with messages, don't keep sending things constantly, just don't be that bothersome "fanatic." I feel the second if these actors see how insane and cringe you act (if you act in aforementioned manner), your privileges are just revoked, you're just another "crazy fan" so to speak.

I don't know. I was so thrilled to be talking to these profoundly amazing actors, I walked on eggshells, avoided appearing annoying or obsessed, avoided anything that thwart or hinder the "relationships." I would have never thought to bother them like that online, regardless of any obsession. It truly doesn't make sense to me to act this crazy if/when you're the nUmBeR oNe fan. I am still connected with Royd and I don't fucking message him or bother him ever, ever! Just quietly and consistently support on social media. I just feel if this woman is THAT in love, enraptured, obsessed with Sam and all she wants is to be noticed, his attention, or to show how dedicated a fan she is, etc., she would not ever, ever behave in this manner on her socials. Fuck no. Doing the opposite. Thanks P!

Thanks for sending this and for your kind words!

I know people get excited to interact with their favorite celeb, and sometimes that excitement can go overboard, but it's important to find that fine line. And it looks like you found it.

Sadly, the couple of fans I mentioned recently didn't find that balance and have gone way overboard.

I even found out Emily White, the fan who claimed to have met up with Sam for drinks in Key West, is married has two kids, and has at least 4 fake accounts. At least. I'm sure there are more, but I stopped looking. Some of her fake accounts are even her pretending to be men, all fawning over her, how great she is, and how she should be with Sam. I was able to look at old Tweets and do reverse pic searches, SO many fake pics. I can prove they are fake or bought accounts. Emily has a nice, normal life in Michigan, with family and friends who love her, not sure what's missing that causes her to pretend to be something she's not. And try to get the attention of Sam Heughan, an actor who probably didn't even interact with her when she was an extra on Bloodshot. I hope she finds peace and happiness.

Anyhoo, I appreciate you sharing your experience and kudos to you for not crossing the line into crazy fangirl land.

[joplittle]

haven't posted in over a year so i'm gonna come up with a bunch of sentences on the spot and throw them in my backyard (this blog) to see if anything moves. fitzier dressed as barbie and ken. jopzier but in ancient sumer. tozer hickey gibson and armitage stuck in the evil dead cabin together. goodhickey but they meet at a gay club in 1990 and one of them is a fan of the cure and the other is a fan of the smiths. the terror AU where they're all theatre kids in 1617. armitozer but it's 1967 and armitage is an aging gay fashion photographer finally having his lucky break and tozer is an experienced folk singer getting famous for the first time at the age of 54 and they meet one fateful day for tozer's first magazine cover shoot. the terror mission impossible AU. it's 1974 and silna is a writer for a popular magazine and she is assigned an interview with goodsir who is a famous war photographer facing early retirement and unable to reconcile his knowledge that he will profit from war for as long as he lives with the values he thought he had. hickeygibson wuthering heights inspired black comedy. modern AU irving marries a catholic (hodgson) hilarity ensues. goodhickey but they meet on a spring break trip in 1996 and one of them is a fan of blur and the other is a fan of oasis. joplittle dressed as barbie and ken. AU where hickey runs a game show in the mid 1980s. AU where hodgson invents H2 blockers.

[enchantzz]

I was contemplating if I should post this, but I think I should. It doesn't only concern myself, but also other creators, so I want to say something about using creations, posting them elsewhere etc.

I don't mind my gifs, creations, edits etc. being reblogged and/or used in for example mood boards, but please show a little appreciation and credit. Even if you are using my "art" outside of Tumblr. Please know that I'm not a fan of my stuff leaving Tumblr, except when I choose to use it myself outside of this blog.

Here on Tumblr, it is very easy to find out who posted something first or created something if it's not too dated. I do understand, however, that it's not always clear who created something, especially when it's a little older and it's all over the internet. but for new stuff, it's very easy to find the original post, like my Richard Armitage / FQ gif sets, which can be found here and here.

I don't like to watermark what I create, but if this "stealing" for the lack of a better word for it, keeps happening, then I might need to start doing that and I will send Aidan/Mitchell and Richard/Rick (OC) after you

That said, I also do realize that I might have posted things for which I didn't know who created it, but 1. I have a general text for that in my blog, so that you can always alert me if something is yours and 2. I usually mention that in the post.

Thank you to all the creators out there who create amazing art, gifs, edits and so on. Please be a little considerate and REBLOG (not re-post as your own) and CREDIT.

Thank you.

[astrovian]

I miss RA so much when we don't hear much about him for a while. Not in an invasive way, in a "I really like hearing from/about him and when things are quiet or he is solely promoting work, I miss his personality". I wish interviewers were less annoying so I could watch old interviews but so much of the time, they just ask the same questions over and over and it's usually stupid shit like "wow ur tall how did u act in the Hobbit" or stuff that seems to make him (and me) uncomfortable like commenting on the "Armitage army" or making comments about his appearance. I think he's an interesting guy! Let me hear what he has to say about actually interesting topics! This is prompted by nothing particular but you're the only active RA blog I follow and I felt like I needed to commiserate.

I think we all feel that way anon 😭

I've said before that (in general) the questions asked by interviewers tend to be very relative & a bit boring - which, in all fairness, I can understand *a bit*. as much as we love him (and he should), he doesn't really have the brand recognition to the point where I would expect most people in a random survey of the population to know who he is just by name. so interviewers are naturally going to ask a lot more of the 'basic' questions - tbh I think most of them still go "oh, it's that guy from The Hobbit" in terms of how much they expect the reader to know. so yeah, it's shitty, but I guess I can understand where they're coming from in terms of doing their job. I don't agree with it but I can understand it

in all fairness as well, he has said in the past that the reason he doesn't so many interviews is because it's not his thing & he doesn't really enjoy them - he's said being on talk shows just really isn't in his nature, which I think most of us introverts can 1000% understand & sympathize with

but this is also why I've said in the past I wish someone would interview him using internet-submitted questions (like Audible did once). or just like - even an interview done by a fan. because while I'm sure that kind of thing would make him uncomfortable (re: because I think there's an assumption that all the questions would then be about his personal life) but at the same time I can think of so many fucking actual interesting questions just about his fucking acting process and job and characters that I deperately want to know the answers to that aren't the usual "so you're a method actor because you once voluntarily got waterboarded in the early 2000s, right??" 🙄

I wish he had a social media site *like* tumblr (note: not actually tumblr because then I would have to delete this blog 🫠) where like - there was an ask box. like with the sole purpose of us being able to fucking submit actual decent questions & every once in a while he could answer one or two if he wanted to

I feel like asking him questions on twitter is just like... bothering him & his mentions lmao. whereas a dedicated thing like an askbox is different from a mention or DM. it makes it more like a formal submission lol

so yes, I miss hearing from him when he's not doing interviews, posting on social media etc. too because he is a very interesting person & I have lots of questions I'd like answered but I also like to imagine that when he's not active on social media he's enjoying a chill life, sipping mojitos on a beach or doing a puzzle in a cozy cabin - or whatever you like - and enjoying not being at the beck and call of the public (even though I know that's a filthy rotten lie because the man seemingly never stops working in the background and I wish he would like. chill. just for a bit. for his sake.)

which is all to say in an extremely long-winded manner:

yes, when absent, I miss his public presence but also I don't begrudge it because I like to think he's just chilling & enjoying life in the meantime

[viciouscreatures]

hi, I'm VC & T! We're a queer non-binary person in their late 30s

VC has been Armitage Hux fan and Kylux shipper since 2015

T thinks Kylo Ren is "cool"

I don't usually engage with social media (we're pretty shy), so I'll probably use this blog more to save things we love and less to engage with other people. Having said that:

I want to say in advance, thank you all so so so much for sharing the amazing fan works you create. They've brought me so much joy over the years and help me deal with life when times are hard and I need something reliable that I can focus on.

If I happen to reblog something you created a million years ago and you ever feel awkward or embarrassed because it's not something you enjoy anymore or feel proud of having made, the above goes double for you. Thank you so much for leaving it there for people like myself to continue to enjoy, it really means a lot.

Content warning for the fictional exploration of villainous characters who have canonically done unforgivably bad things.

[middleearthpixie]

I posted 2,825 times in 2022

That's 1,493 more posts than 2021!

449 posts created (16%)

2,376 posts reblogged (84%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@i-did-not-mean-to

@fizzyxcustard

@lathalea

@blueberryrock

@legolasbadass

I tagged 1,697 of my posts in 2022

Only 40% of my posts had no tags

#richard armitage - 825 posts

#the hobbit - 536 posts

#thorin oakenshield - 474 posts

#romance - 422 posts

#fan fiction - 329 posts

#hobbit fanfic - 325 posts

#hobbit fic - 307 posts

#the hobbit fan fiction - 305 posts

#au - 289 posts

#thorin x oc - 285 posts

Longest Tag: 96 characters

#bottles but not just any ol' bottle. it has to be pretty or unusual or have a witty label on it.

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Quiet

Armitage Summer Splash #17 ~ thank you to @fizzyxcustard and @lathalea, as always!

Trope: Illness

Quote: “I need space away from you”

RA Character: Thorin Oakenshield

Relationship: Thorin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood and vomit, death, mourning 

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,113

Khuzdul Translations: 

Raklûna - Precious, darling one 

‘Adad ~ Father

Sigin’adad ~ Grandfather

Uzbadnâtha ~ Princess

Mimûna ~ Little one (f)

Amrâlimê ~ My love

***

He was coughing again. Loud, harsh, hacking coughs echoed throughout your small house, just as they had for the last several weeks. Only in the last day or so, they came with a greater frequency and at all hours. He coughed and gasped for air and then came the plaintive, “Raklûna! Help me…”

You rose from bed, not even taking the time to jam your feet into your slippers, just as you did every time ’Adad called for you. You hardly even noticed the biting cold gnawing at the soles of your feet as you hurried to his room. As the days went on, ’Adad called for you more and more often, breaking your sleep into increments of no more than twenty minutes or so each night. You couldn’t recall a time when you were so tired, so worn down, so absolutely and utterly drained. It was barely dawn, and in your sleep-deprived state, you only just narrowly missed catching your toes on the doorway as you hurried to help him.

“Raklûna!” 

His voice was thready, but impatient and without thinking, you snapped, “I’m coming, ’Adad!”

You pushed open the door and your stomach twisted sharply at the foul stench of sick that filled the small room. He’d coughed hard enough to make himself vomit, so now you had that to clean up as well.

He sank back against the pillows, his face gray, his eyes sunken and glassy. Thankfully, he hadn’t been sick all over his nightshirt, and you immediately burned with guilt over that thought. He couldn’t help being sick, couldn’t help that he could only just barely breathe. Each breath was little more than a shallow rasp and he’d gotten to the point where the little bottles of medicine Narnerra had given you to control his pain no longer could even touch it. 

His arm trembled as he held out a hand to you, a handkerchief clutched in his opposite hand. “Sit me up,” he rasped, fighting to fill lungs that were riddled with disease to the point where they almost no longer worked. 

You nodded. “Let me clean you up and move you, so I might change the linens.”

“Plea—” Another coughing fit seized him, wracked his emaciated body until he fell back against the pillows fighting for air, and lowered the handkerchief now splattered with blood.

You swallowed hard and fought to put up some sort of invisible barrier between you and the scene of your father’s sickroom as you carefully helped him to his spindly legs and then to the chair in the corner, where he crumpled into it like an old shirt and wheezed softly. It was the only way you could whisk the sheets from the bed and wipe down what needed cleaning without being sick yourself. You balled up the soiled linens, proud of yourself for only gagging once, and hurried to drop them in the basket just inside the door. 

You remade ’Adad’s bed, but when you turned back to him, you couldn't bring yourself to try to heft him from the chair just yet. He’d grown so frail and weak, you were afraid that, despite your tiny size, you would break at least one, possibly more, of his fragile bones.

The illness came from out of the blue a few weeks back, just after the ball celebrating your upcoming marriage to Thorin Durin. ’Adad’s decline had been swift and steady and you knew it was but a matter of time before you were the only soul living in the cozy house he’d made into a home after your mother walked out. For so long, it had been just the two of you, and you were fiercely protective of him, even if resentment bit away at you as you changed his bed linens for the third time in a night or he slapped away a spoonful of nourishing broth because he was feeling belligerent and didn’t wish to eat. 

Overnight, he’d gone from the great burly man who loved to bake and cook and laugh, to the skeletal wraith now crumbled in the chair. His eyes, once dancing with mischief, were sunken and dull. He wasted away before your own eyes, and you were powerless to halt it. 

See the full post

109 notes - Posted June 17, 2022

#4

Stolen Moments

Armitage Summer Splash # 12 ~ Thanks again to @lathalea and @fizzyxcustard for creating this challenge!

Trope: Oblivious to feelings 

Quote: “How dare you?”

RA Character: Thorin Oakenshield

Relationship: Thorin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Some angst

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,936

Khuzdul Translations: 

Mimûna - Little one (f)

Kunbûnaul - Son of a bitch

’Adad - Father

Raklûna - precious, darling one (f)

Kurduwê - my heart

***

There were times when you would cheerfully throttle Thorin blue and this was absolutely one of them. You rose onto one elbow to just stare down at him. “Are you mad?”

“What?” His eyes went wide as he tucked one arm up beneath his head. “Why would you ask me such a thing?”

“Perhaps because I think you might have gone mad?” You pushed up from your elbow, sitting upright. What had been one of the most wonderful afternoons of your life was all of the sudden coming apart. Instead of lying there on the soft skin, your head tucked against Thorin’s chest, your fingers trailing lightly through the dark hair that covered it, and your leg resting over his, while you fought off the delicious drowsiness that always followed a romp with him, you were now dealing with a bellyful of uncomfortable knots. Even the air around you felt different now. Minutes earlier, lust and desire, swirled through it, took away some of the early autumn chill to replace it with the heat of unbridled passion. You treasured these times with him, when the rest of the world faded away and you lost yourselves in one another. 

But now, that air of romance faded into the trees around around you. You pulled your fingers thorough your hair to shove it out of your eyes, away from your face. “Why would you do that? Why can’t things just be as they are now? This is perfect.”

“Perfect?” He also sat up, then reached for his trousers, which lay in the soft grass where they’d fallen when you shoved them down his legs not quite half an hour earlier. “We sneak about, jumping at every sound, convinced at any moment, someone will catch us. That is hardly perfect, mimûna. I’d rather not have to worry about it. I’d rather not have to sneak about any longer, to pretend when I see you in the square that we don’t know each other like this. I’d far prefer being able to do something as simple as hold your blasted hand or steal a kiss and not care who might be lurking about.”

You would have loved the same, to be honest. Sneaking about was fun at first. You loved having the delicious little secret tucked away inside your heart, loved see him in town and being able to share a smile with him, while others wondered what it was you smiled about. 

But as the summer went on and gave away to autumn, and the air grew chilled with the change of season, that secret lost some of its lustre. Snuggling under a skin with him was cozy. Having to emerge from it into the nippy air was not. You’d become quite adept as dressing without moving said skin, but the fact was, you were growing tired of sneaking and hiding as well. You would far rather fall into a soft bed with him than roll around on the ground, where an ill placed stone or stick could interrupt an otherwise lovely moment. 

However, what Thorin suggested was nothing short of madness and could never come to pass. You understood that. Why didn't he?

Still, you felt a pang of disappointment as he stepped into his trousers and drew them up over his thick thighs. “We do not jump at every sound,” you told him, trying—and failing—to keep the sulkiness from your voice. 

“We do, and if you’re honest with yourself, you will admit it. And can you honestly tell me you like skulking about and hiding us from everyone?” 

“Well… no…” you hedged. “I don’t like it. But—”

“But nothing.” He shook his head without looking up while he fastened his trousers. Then he stretched one hand to snag your chemisette to hold out to you. “So, this is a solution. It’s the perfect solution and I fail to see why you don’t agree.”

“It would be the perfect solution,” you shot back, dragging the linen over your head, where from inside the bodice, you added, “if it wasn’t for the fact that I am not fit to wipe your boots, never mind marry you!”

He didn't reply, and when you emerged from the chemisette, it was to find him glowering at you. “What?” You tugged the wrinkled linen down and stood, then tried to smooth out at least some of the wrinkles. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

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112 notes - Posted June 12, 2022

#3

For the February Writer Event: kissing in the rain :)

Ok - here it is and I hope you like it... :)

Words: 3,501

Characters: Thorin x reader

This takes place just before AUJ -

A Kiss in the Rain

It felt like the rain would simply just never end. You despaired of ever being warm, or even dry, again because it just seemed as if it been raining since the beginning of time. And it showed no signs of letting up. Quite possibly ever.

You kept quiet, though, for you saw Thorin’s expression darken each time one of the others complained about the weather and since they all still weren’t quite sure of you, you kept your own complaints to yourself. All you wanted was to be accepted by them, to have them see you as one of the Company. And if that meant dealing with some rain, so be it. You’d certainly dealt with far worse conditions.

But that didn't mean you weren’t at all thankful when Thorin put up a hand and called, “We pass the night here.”

Here was what looked to be an old, abandoned farmhouse and you frowned as you stared at it. “Are you sure it’s safe?” you asked no one in particular.

Bofur came up behind you. “I suppose we’ll find out now, won’t we?”

You looked over your shoulder at him. He was every bit as bedraggled as you felt, water dripping from his hat, from his thick, dark mustache, his equally thick, equally dark pigtails, from pretty much every bit of him. “That isn’t very reassuring.”

“I know,” he nodded, then stepped around you to make his way into the house. The front door swung open on loose hinges and you remained where you were, practically holding your breath as if waiting for him to let out a horrified shriek.

Thorin swung down from his pony, pressing the reins into his nephew, Kíli’s hand. “Secure the ponies the barn and keep watch over them with your brother.” He surveyed the house from eaves to porch and sighed softly. “I don’t think it’s been empty long and I’m hoping whoever lived here left under their own will.”

“That is no more reassuring than Bofur’s words,” you told him as Kíli took the reins to your pony as well.

Thorin turned to you, and as his blue eyes alit on you, your heart skipped a beat, as it did whenever he looked at you lately. Hopefully, he couldn’t see his effect on you, as you tried with everything you had to hide it. And so far, you thought you’d been fairly successful at it. As far as you knew, Thorin Oakenshield had no idea how just a simple look had the power to make you forget how to breathe. And when his hand came to rest on your shoulder, as it did just then, you temporarily forgot your own name.

You had to keep those thoughts, those reactions, to yourself. Otherwise, he’d no doubt send you away. You were a daughter of Man and the only reason he allowed you to remain with the Company was because you’d saved his life outside a seedy tavern in an equally seedy village between Dunning and Bree. He saw for himself your skill with a bow and arrow, and that you were not afraid to use steel, either, and when you’d asked to accompany him on his journey to the Shire, he’d agreed in order to repay his debt to you.

The Shire was still several days out and you had no idea what awaited you there. For now, however, you would at least pass one night out of the rain. It was only one night, but you’d take it.

A bit of warmth seeped into your shoulder from Thorin’s huge hand resting upon it. Like most dwarves, he was broad-shouldered and barrel-chested, with thick, powerful legs and arms. “Go inside with Bofur and see about getting a fire started while we take a look around out here.”

You nodded, reaching for the oilskin pouch tied to your belt, where you kept your flint and steel. “Of course.”

You stepped away from him, clomping up the steps to the front door. Inside, you stopped dead in your tracks. It was as if the people who’d lived there expected to return imminently. The table was set for four with plates and flatware, and the great room and kitchen were both practically dust-free, they are so clean.

You looked over at Bofur. “What do you suppose happened to the people who lived here? They haven’t been gone long from the looks of things. Are we certain they aren’t just above?”

Bofur looked up, as if able to see through the ceiling. “No. We’ve not looked. Perhaps we should.” He looked back at you. “You wait here and I’ll have Bifur go with—”

“No. I’ll go with you.” You drew your short sword from the sheath at your hip and held it in one hand, gesturing for him to follow you with the other. “Don’t look so worried. Remember how I came to be in your company?”

“I do, but… you’re a… girl.”

“You needn’t say it as if I’ve got some dread disease, you know.” You rolled your eyes and moved to the narrow staircase to the left of the dark hearth, then held out the oilskin to him. “Perhaps you should instead get a fire started and I’ll look.”

You didn't wait for his answer, but tossed the skin to him, and then mounted the staircase to creep noiselessly to the second floor. That was one of your gifts—your innate ability to move without a sound, walking mostly on the balls of your feet as you moved up the stair treads and down the narrow corridor leading to three bedrooms of varying size.

“There is no one here,” you called down, leaning over the bannister to see Bofur with one foot only on the bottom step. “We are alone.”

“Good. Now I can get the fire going.”

You descended to the first floor, tucking your sword back into its sheath. “Fourteen of us, three bedrooms. It will be noisy.”

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126 notes - Posted February 10, 2022

#2

hi ::::::::)

if your requests are open can i drop this in?

for thorin x reader: bandaging each other up and sharing a tender moment, grabbing your lover's face and not being able to let go

Hi there, Nonny!!

I'm sorry this took me so long, but here it is. I hope you like it. :)

In This Moment 

Summary: In Beorn’s barn after the battle with first the goblins, and then the Orcs, you and Thorin are bandaging each other’s wounds and it leads to something a little more.

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x Reader 

Rating: T

Warnings: Just fluff

Word Count: 2,854

Everything inside the barn was huge. The stalls were huge. The sheep? Huge. The piles of hay? Also huge. The structure itself was the biggest you’d ever seen, with a soaring ceiling that made sixteen voices bounce about until it sounded as if six hundred dwarves, wizards, hobbits, and women had taken up residence inside. Couple that with the low of the sheep, and it was a wonder you weren’t rendered deaf within the first five minutes of slamming the barn door on the huge (of course) black bear that had chased you all relentlessly across stream and pasture, straight to this huge barn. But once the bar dropped into place, and everything calmed, you knew you were safe. 

Well, at least for now.

You sank into the corner of an empty stall, grateful for the chance to just stop moving. The last few weeks had been rough, and the last twelve hours were a culmination of that. You let your head come to rest against the rough slats of the wall separating your stall from the next while the sheep glared at you and moved further down before laying down for the night. Darkness crept in, and Gandalf lit two of the numerous lanterns hung on hooks both between the stalls and along the far wall. They provided just enough light to keep any one of you from falling over something and breaking your neck, but not so much that those who wished to sleep would be disturbed by it.

Sleep. Your eyes stung with a fatigue you’d never felt before. You were the newest member of the Company, having come to their aid when you happened upon them battling mountain trolls. You never asked to join, nor did they invite you, but nevertheless, you remained with them and slowly seemed to gain their trust, while they also gained yours. 

Of course, had you known what awaited you beyond those loutish trolls. Goblins. Orcs. One fight after another, or so it seemed.

But hopefully the worst was now behind you. You weren’t so sure you believed it, but you certainly hoped it was.

 You let out a low sigh and let your eyes close. You’d never run so much, or so fast, in your life, and everything still hurt from the battle with the orcs just the two nights ago. Trolls led to a brief respite in Rivendell, but then came the goblins and orcs and on top of that, being chased by the biggest bear you’d ever seen. Eventful, to say the least. 

Little by little, the quiet that had crept in like a cat thickened, only to be interrupted by snores as one by one, the others drifted off, just as exhausted as you, no doubt. 

If only you could sleep, as you hadn’t since the eagle dropped you on the Carrock, but despite the burn in your eyes and just the utter jelly-like state of what felt like all of your muscles, sleep mocked you. Any noise beyond the barn made you jump and reach for your sword before you realized it came from outside. Still, your mind wouldn’t shut off and the gash in your right arm refused to stop bleeding. Normally, the sight of blood didn't bother you, but this? This made you lightheaded, much to your aggravation.

The soft crunch of heavy boots on hay grew slightly louder and you stared into the quasi-darkness at the large, furry shape that was, in fact, the leader of your company, Thorin Oakenshield.

He’d fared the worst for the company’s encounters—his face still cut and scraped and bruised. Two nights had passed since you’d come face to face with the orc pack outside Goblintown. Thorin had been their target, and while he’d confronted the leader—a giant pale orc called Azog the Defiler—he paid dearly for it and was far worse for the wear.

Still, those scrapes and bruises didn't seem to trouble him much now. And they certainly didn’t detract from the handsomeness you fought so hard to ignore. You were fairly certain nothing could detract from that, although you’d rather choke on your tongue than ever admit such a thing to him. It simply wouldn’t do. Besides, it was a harmless crush and would pass in time.

Or so you hoped.

His sword, the Orcrist clattered softly against the floor planks, and with a low groan, Thorin sank into the hay next to you. His voice was deep and low as he whispered, “How do you fare?”

“I’ll be fine.” You tried to hold back your wince as you shifted, as you tried to make yourself at least a little comfortable. Impossible. The slightest movement and your arm burned merciless. 

Thorin’s sharp eyes missed little, and they narrowed as he reached for your hand. “Let me see.”

You drew back before he could move your sleeve, a low hiss leaking through your teeth despite your best effort to hold it back. “Leave off. I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t be so stubborn.” He grabbed hold of your dirt-spattered sleeve by the cuff and tugged. 

You gritted your teeth at the fiery burn that crept from your elbow up as you moved your arm. You cared more about that and less about the fact that Thorin’s removing your tunic left you in only a sleeveless, half-chemise. That was no problem for you. The Company knew you were a woman and they didn't bat an eye over it, but accepted you as one of them just the same, and you’d proven your worth. You weren’t a dwarf, but again, it seemed to matter very little in the end.

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269 notes - Posted May 15, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Make Me

Armitage Summer Splash #1

Trope: Enemies to Lovers

Quote: “Did we make a mistake?”

RA Character: Thorin Oakenshield (pre-sack of Erebor)

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x reader

Warnings: Battle violence, a bit of hand to hand combat, and finally, unprotected intercourse

Rating: T

Word Count: 4,892

Khuzdul Translations:

Mimûna- Little one

’Adad - father 

Kurduwê - My heart 

A/N: This is my first contribution to the Armitage Summer Splash — so many thanks to @lathalea and @fizzyxcustard for creating this event! 😈💜

~~*~~

“Get up!”

You stared up at the clear blue sky, trying not to panic even though it seemed your lungs forgot how to work. The air rushed from them when you slammed into the ground, and for several horrifying moments, you didn't think they’d re-inflate.

A large hand loomed before you, one you knocked away as hard as you could. A faint rumble of laughter rippled tough the others gathered around and you heard your name muttered more than once. As always, you ignored it. They weren’t going to get to you. Let them laugh and jeer. You didn’t care.

At least, that’s what you told yourself. 

“On your feet, lass.”

You sat up with a groan and slowly managed to get your feet as your lungs filled once more and you could breathe. You glared at the dwarf responsible for taking your feet out from under you. He was bigger than the other dwarves. Bigger. Broader. The kings grandson. No one would knock Thorin’s butt in the dirt. They wouldn’t dare. 

But you would in a heartbeat. Some day.

“Do you need a minute?” Thorin’s blue eyes danced with amusement as he faced you. “Or do you wish to save us both the trouble and simply go on home now?”

“I need no time and I am not leaving until we are dismissed,” you growled back. All you wanted to do was wipe that arrogant smirk from his face and you would do it. Not today or perhaps not even tomorrow, but you would. You were determined to, no matter how hard you had to work at it or how long it took you. He didn't scare you. 

“Are you certain? You look very… winded.”

“Why are you so concerned?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you afraid of being bested by a girl?”

The others grew quiet, while Thorin smirked. “You’ll forgive me for laughing, of course.”

You glared at him, but when you found yourself paired off with him once more, you spent even more time on your back, staring up at the high blue sky, promising Mahal that if he let you breathe again, Thorin would be on his back next time.

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271 notes - Posted June 1, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[thisiswerethefunbegins]

Hello there

this is a role-play blog where you can interact with my Star Wars OCs. You can role-play as yourself, OCs, or canon characters. And if you do not want to role-play a story, you can just send questions even nonserious ones. Please check out my rules and list of OCs linked below. I will role-play Star Wars AUs if you clarify what you want.

(my monster and monster hunter versions of Hux and Kylo are listed even though they’re technically not OCs. You are also welcome to speak with other AU versions of them I have written, even though I’m not listing them. Other Star Wars, AUs I’ve made not involving Kylux might be added in the future.)

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how to RP

rules

characters

OC Requests

OC Template

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other blogs

Main Acc: @casp1an-sea (idk why it won’t link. He/him Ey/Em Pronouns)

Other Star Wars Accounts:

@angry-space-ginger (Armitage Hux rp blog)

@rouge-space-dad (Han Solo rp blog)

@hux-and-gay (mostly Kylux fan blog)

Other Blogs:

@hollowsdill-manor (vampire and werewolf dating sim)

@spring-chicken (oc rp blog)

@robinbanks-accidentally (twst rp blog)

@brooklynscamp (newsies rp blog)

@ramblingsofamadblob (blog for world building)

[hux-and-gay]

GAY VAMPIRE MAN

Kylux Event 100 Follower Event

Hello! You can call me Armie! (Yes I’m aware that’s a dumb nickname for Armitage but I think it’s funny so it’s my name now)

HE/HIM, GAY, TRANS MASC/ TRANS MALE

this is my side bog where I sometimes post mature stuff and NSFW. I have a feeling this is going to be exclusively, Kylux and vampires for a while, and basically be a Kylux fan blog.

if you know my main account, good job, I’m not linking it. If you are under 18 dni

Trying to live out my Gothic vampire romance era I guess.

KYLUX AND ADJACENT ART AND WRITING

MASTER LIST

[brandonbsposts]

For my last blog post I wrote about Get Out, for this blog post I would like to analyze the movie and give some of my own insights on specific scenes.  Throughout the movie Chris, the protagonist, is constantly feeling more and more discomfort towards the Armitage Family.  They are peculiar people with a twisted interest for Black men due to their physical characteristics.  The Armitage Family was very accommodating with Chris which made him uncomfortable, but the weirdest part for Chris was when Rose’s father kept saying “my man” to Chris.  This seemed to have made Chris feel a lot of discomfort especially after telling him he would have voted for Obama a third time.  This eagerness of black culture causes Chris to feel as if the family is trying to over perform and be apart of this culture, making assumptions about him due to him being black.  This made Chris feel very weary about the family at this point and made him uncomfortable at the party. Furthermore, the family assumes he is a fan of Tiger Woods then ask him if he is a golf fan.  These comments can be seen as racist remarks because they are stereotyping Chris as a black man and using common stereotypes to try to relate to him, even though this is not the case and just makes Chris feel more and more discomfort. Lastly, Rose’s brother made an extremely racist comment stating to Chris that his frame and genetic make up can allow him to tun into a beast, in a way he was calling Chris a savage/barbarian due to the color of his skin. The way this family portrays black people because of the color of their skin and their body framework is sickening.  The aforementioned comments made by members of the Armitage family signify that Chris’s blackness is a wanted commodity.  They tell Chris that his characteristics are “in fashion” and highly wanted.  This leads up to the movies ending where Chris begins to see many different members of Rose’s family are black people then he realizes that one of the black men is someone that has been reported as a missing person.  This lead Chris to realize that he is here because the family wants him for his body and he is not their because Rose actually wants to date him. In next week’s blog post I will be speaking about the last scene in “Get Out” where Chris is close to being taken by the family. 

[peacegirlok]

Blog Post #1

Blog Post #1

When I was only 2 years old, my father accidentally let me watch a zombie movie with him. He fell asleep trying to put me to sleep but instead of this creating a trauma surrounding horror, it did the exact opposite. I became a horror fanatic, an enthusiast if you will. But I am picky about the work that I enjoy. The works that I subscribe to include zombie, supernatural/paranormal, psychological, monster, witchcraft, thrillers and demonic. I don’t like vampires, werewolves, extraterrestrials, slashers, or gore. While I can sit through a good Saw movie, It wouldn’t be my go to when I think of horror. But, this class is centered around horror within the context of Blackness and because of the role that Black folx have historically played in horror movies, I was interested to find out. I’m sure everyone who takes this class claims themselves to be a Jordan Peele superfan fan who LOVES his works, but I’m not sure if I would call myself a superfan. Instead I would call myself an appreciator, while I do enjoy his works and the expression of topics that go much further than the screen, I didn’t love Get Out. I thought it was groundbreaking indeed but I wouldn’t call it my favorite movie, not for any reason more than the fact that I liked Us a lot more and Nope a lot less. However I would say that I truly enjoyed the fact that Get Out had me continuously on the edge of my seat. Some things that I would like to specifically point out is the obvious and important context that the story sits on the basis of an interracial couple where the man is Black and the woman is White. To open with the notion of his Blackness being an important detail to highlight to her parents shows that this isn’t your regular ‘color blind couple tale’ as stated in class it's something that even as early as ‘Birth of a Nation’ couldn’t seem to forget.  But Get Out recognizes his Blackness in a way that other modern horror films don’t. Each moment that he felt alone, searching for someone to not only see his Blackness but to relate to it, despite there being other Black bodies, no one came to his rescue until the very end and this is what makes this tale so bone chilling. But there are some key points that I want to highlight that I feel were discussed during this lecture that forced me to see things I hadn’t during my first few viewings. Missy: the mother, the mystic. I never considered her character as more than the hypnotist that put him in the sunken place. But professor Due mentioned that unlike everyone else apart of the Armitage family, Missy married into this practice. Which would imply that she held a life that may have been more normal than the life she lives now. This made me consider if she may have any remorse about the role she plays within this convoluted family dynamic. There is a short moment just before Chris is about to be captured when he and Rose enter the home while it is dark outside. Jeremy is holding a fiddle, on one side of the door and Dean and Missy are on the other side. Missy’s arm is wrapped around Deans and for a brief second she seems as though she feels sorry for Chris. But this moment is short lived, maybe a millisecond of a frame, I acknowledge that I may be looking too deep into this. However it is the only clue that I have been running with that gives us a glance into who she was before becoming an Armitage.

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

Writer Wednesday (little late I know! But I’m surprised I wrote anything!) @autumnleaves1991-blog @clydesducktape

Echoes of the Heart

General Hux x Female Reader

Prompt: Writer Wednesday picture and Heartbeat.

Warnings: arranged marriage hint, mention of abuse, childhood, injuries.

Word Count: 1433

He hated it here, the memories that flash behind the lids of his closed eyes were never happy, accompanied with pain. The swift punch of a gloved fist, the imprint of a boot, the bruising….so much hurt and suffering was tied to this place. Armitage gave himself a mental shake, his father was gone, yes others who had inflicted the abuse on him still lived but he was an adult now. General of the First Order. And yet….his leather gloved fist clenched around the handle of the umbrella he held, the deluge that plagued Arkanis ran off the sides creating a clear wall of water around him. But he didn’t need to see where he was going. His feet had trodden this path a hundred times over, the maze had never changed and his steps never faltered. The immaculate hedges parted to reveal a pond, the water rippling with each raindrop creating a pattern he could get lost in.

He paused under the brick arch that marked the entrance to his place of solace, peering through the rain only to find someone was already here. At first he felt a flare of anger, his mouth twisting with a rebuke ready to chase away whoever it was. The wall of rain sliding off his umbrella stopped when he passed under the arch and he finally caught a glimpse of a dress. He never did understand how the women of Arkanis could parade around in these dresses, all tight in the waist and flowing around the legs, especially outside soaking up the constant puddles that littered the floor as the fine material dragged along the ground. He cast his eyes over your solemn figure, your head bowed under your dark umbrella as you watched the pond ripple at your feet. The deep red of your outfit barely visible in the murky light but still you offered a splash of richness amongst the green and stone. You were a daughter of high society, regarded as an acceptable match for him and had been brought here to his old estate. At first he had dismissed you, not seeing how marriage could benefit him at all but the more he caught glimpses of you the more he was intrigued.

“Are you just going to stand there General?” Your voice slicing through the weather surprised him and his entire body tensed, hoping he had gone unnoticed.

“I do not mean to intrude,” he said stiffly when all he could think was you were intruding on his secret space.

“You’re not.” His eyes swept over the area, noting the stone bench where he used to sit as a child, hiding from his father and stepmother. He could feel his chest tightening as he remembered the echoes of their yells trying to find him but they never bothered learning the way through the maze and he used that to his advantage quite often. “But something tells me I am intruding on your time of reflection.” Your voice pulled him back, the sound of the weather creating a constant patter on both umbrellas. His eyes rose to meet yours for the first time and he felt his breath catch slightly. You really were stunning, your gaze pierced through the gloom and he felt like you were really seeing him. He schooled his expression, emotion was a sign of weakness after all and everyone around him used him or abused him, why would you be any different?

“I used to come here often, it was my thinking space,” he found himself saying, surprising himself. He never divulged any personal information about himself if he could help it, knowledge was power and it could be used to someone else’s advantage. But here he was, his heart thudding in his chest as your gaze alone seemed to drag his darkest secrets to his very lips. He wanted to share the footprints that stained his soul with you and that shook him to his very core. Nonetheless he found himself drawing level with you, lifting his umbrella slightly to cover the edge of yours, creating a little pocket of relief so you could talk without the interruption of rain.

You looked back at the surface of the pond, nodding slightly in acceptance. Armitage shifted, now he didn’t know what to say. Put him on the bridge of a ship, or in front of a battalion of troopers and his mind would be in overdrive, thinking 5 steps ahead, his orders sure and precise never wavering in his decisions. And yet here, standing next to you he suddenly found himself empty of all words and it infuriated him. He rolled his lips angrily against his teeth wishing he could be suave and not so socially awkward. At times like this he blamed his father, for only teaching him how to control and to create fear, for taking him away from his mother. There. The echoes of his heart that always shone through when he was here, his gaze slid to the stone bench as he remembered. It had been a nice day, very rare here on Arkanis the sun had broken through a small gap in the clouds highlighting the world around him. As a child it was wondrous and made more beautiful by the fact his mother had been there with him, comforting him in his moment of need. It had been the last time he saw her, the last time he heard her sweet voice, the last time he felt the feather light touch of her hands as she studied the bruises that blossomed under his skin. The age old fury rose inside him and once again he revelled in the fact that his father was dead, and Admiral Brooks had been a bonus. The shackles they created, forever cracked but not entirely broken.

“Forgive me, General, but I can never quite work out what’s going on behind that very blank mask of yours. What does a man like you hide away?” He felt a smirk lift the corner of his mouth, he was fairly sure you didn’t want to know the inner workings of this particular General, it was enough to make anyone run in the opposite direction.

“I apologise if I seem pensive. Returning to the estate is always such an….adjustment.”

“Yes I can imagine. The fresh air, the rain, the gravity…”

“Actually on our ships the gravity generators are some of the best the First Order has engineered, they adjust accordingly even when we near a planet's gravitational pull so it’s just like having your feet on solid ground but out in space.” He trailed off realising too late that you had been teasing him, the smile tugging at your lips was something he wished he could see in full. “Ah,” he murmured quietly. “You didn’t need to know all that.”

“Maybe I should.” He shot you a quizzical look, his brow pulling down slightly. “Well if we are to….I’m assuming I would reside with you on the Finalizer.” Your words made him inhale sharply. He hadn’t even thought that far ahead but the fact you had dared to create a warm glow in his chest and he had no idea what to do with it.

“Oh,” was all he could manage. Oh.

“I understand if you’d rather I didn’t encroach on your privacy and your leadership. I can stay here and run the estate.” You said, mistaking his lack of acknowledgment for reluctance.

“I—I hadn’t really thought about it, I had no idea you were considering…” he was a mess. The words wouldn’t flow as his heartbeat roared in his ears, each beat slammed into his ribs almost shaking his body with each pound.

“We may have been put into this situation, General but that doesn’t mean I was unwilling.” Oh.

“Maybe…maybe we should go over the terms of the agreement.” He winced as soon as the words left his mouth. How formal, how unfeeling he sounded when all he was doing was feeling. It rushed through him, making the very tips of his fingers tingle in anticipation, a strange fluttering feeling made him feel slightly nauseated and he placed a hand on his stomach. “Armitage.” He managed to utter. “You may call me Armitage.” Now you graced him with a smile, and all he could picture was the sun breaking through the dull clouds. You were a breath of fresh air, a moment of peace within the storm that was his life and he knew from this moment he was never going to let you go.

[meandrichard]

I'll remember that naughty wink in particular

I’ll remember that naughty wink in particular

Zan’s tribute to Fedoralady.