#literally what i imagine pearl's songs to sound like | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

androgynousblackbox · 2 months ago

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The Flavor of You [Appleradio, Radioapple] 1/2

"I am your wife. And your husband. And the love of your life. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise" were the first words that Lucifer heard from a man called Alastor when he woke up after a car crash, with no memory of who any of them were. He could find it more difficult to believe that literal stranger if his smell wasn't already watering his mouth like nothing ever could.

When Lucifer woke up for the second time, the first thing he took notice of was someone was humming next to him. He didn't recognize the song or the tune. As he turned his head to the sound, he saw a person sitting next to his bed, carefully cutting an apple into slices they then put on a plate on their lap.

He first saw the arrey of different scars across both arms, uncovered by the sleveless black dress and tiny red polka dots that they were wearing. Tiny scars, long ones, thin and thick, standing out in a ligter tone over the dark brown skin. Somehow those marks did not look out of place, despite the perfectly curly hair on a short ponytail on the back of their head, the red lipstick, red bandana and the pearls around their neck and hanging from their ears. Maybe it was his imagination, or he was just tired, but he could swear that the pointy ends of the bandana that stand out over their head turned towards him before the rest of the head followed. Bright green eyes looked at him from behind glasses with a red framme.

"You are awake, darling" commented that person and a smile spread across their face. They were beautiful and their expression was warmth. He had to known them, right? He wanted to at least. They looked like someone he wanted to know. Letting out a sigh, that person finished cutting the slice in their hands. "You don't seem that bad to me, but maybe that is why I am not the doctor. Did he tell you already what happened?"

"I was in a car crash" said Lucifer, looking up through the window. The doctor had talked to him when the sky was barely starting to light up to start the day. Now it was full of blinking stars outside. "I got hit in the head, so he then asked me a bunch of questions I didn't know how to answer. I don't know anything else."

"For now" said that person and extended one slice to his mouth. Lucifer opened up, because he was hungry and that was food, when suddenly his nose perceived a smell that had nothing to do with the apple. He saw that person had cut their thumb while cutting and their blood was mixing in with the fruit. His mouth watered and he licked his lips. It was a small portion, but he knew already that apple was going to taste so much sweeter because of that one ingredient. Something on his gut, at the very center of his being told him so. The person offering smiled. "Something the problem, dear?"

Lucifer grabbed the wrist of that person and kept it there, using whatever portion of strenght he had on him. The hand didn't seem to have any intention of moving anyway as he devouring the slice and then licked up the wound, signing in pure bliss.

The sweet juice of the fruit was nothing compared with those few drops he managed to taste, not even water, completley irrelevant. Their nails were done and shinny with a red coat as intense as the one on their lips, but they didn't seem to mind at all when Lucifer sucked that thumb and bite around the wound, squeezing the skin for more. Calmly, without moving the hand Lucifer had trapped for himself, they removed the plate with the other slices and put it on a table nearby.

Lucifer didn't know how long he was sucking, but he was totally sure that it was too short when the blood wasn't coming out anymore. The wound was too small to let him taste the flesh underneat. He wished he could grab the knife they were using and opened it up. They still had more. They had to.

"Now, now, dear" chuckled that person, finally getting their hand back when Lucifer let them go, "I know you are hungry, but just let me check that we are actually alone."

That person stand up from their chair and looked up the window at the door, observing for every side of the hallway. Lucifer couldn't see their legs from he was, but knew that person was tall and still using heels. He licked his lips when they turned towards him and licked their own thumb. Tasting the saliva of Lucifer.

"As delicious as always, love" commented, coming to stand at their side.

When they pulled the bedsheet down from him, Lucifer did not protest or moved away. When their non injured hand started working him under his pants, he took a hold of their wrist again, not to stop them. He was already feeling some tingling from their blood, so the actual estimulation was all he needed to start to rise up to the ocassion. They were clearly skillfull and knew what they were doing, keeping up the same smile they had since he first saw them.

"Who… who are you?" managed to say finally, his toes curling under the fabric.

Please, tell me that you are mine, wanted to add. He had to have something like this. He wouldn't accept anything else. The more his own blood was pumping, the more he could feel the smell of this person and was about to make him drool like an idiot. It was just about the most enticing thing he had ever percieved in his life, and that was true, regardless if he couldn't remember percieving anything else or not.

"Little old me?"

That person chuckled again, as if that was a funny question.

Their wonderful hands stopped working him briefly to move the chair closer. Lucifer didn't had much time to lament his loss when that person got on top of him, their long legs staddling as they lifted their skirt to let him see. No underwear.

From that point is that the smell was coming off so strong. That person kept the skirt up with their teeth as they let themselves slowly fall over Lucifer, taking them all in between soft wet folds. Only once they were totally sit in on his lap, they sighed with a long sought after relief. A small shiver that Lucifer felt too, before they went over to grab his face. Lucifer looked up as that person moved their jaw a few second and then opened up. Lucifer recieved their spit with a deep moan, his eyes turning up in his head.

It was a different taste than their blood, but still undeniably exquisite. This reaction pleased immensively his companion. He grabbed at their waist with both hands, refusing to let them go anywhere, digging his nails at his side. When that person came down to join their forehead with his, their breath alone was something Lucifer did not want to spend a single second not inhaling into his lungs.

"I am your wife" said that person, placing a hand on top of Lucifer's chest as their hips moved, back and forth. "And your husband" They kissed his lips, that elevated for them. That glorious saliva was still there, for his tongue to go find. "And the love of your life. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise. Got that?" They moaned as Lucifer started moving them, gripping them harder than iron, or intending to at least, lifting his head to try to bite their lips back where they belonged, against his, between his teeth, where he was going.

But they stilled pulled back. They were no longer smiling, waiting for his response with a strange sense of seriousness that had Lucifer blinking at them. He could not believe that was even a question at all. What else could a creature like that ever be for him? What were even the point of those titles if they weren't for this person, if they didn't created that need on his body? They would be just ornamental then, meaningless.

"I won the fucking lottery then" said, lifting a hand to bring them down by the nape, to his nose.

He took a deep breath from the space between their pearls and their skin. Even their sweat was delicious. Of course that was the love of his life. Nothing ever made more sense than that simple truth.

He went up that beautiful long neck, kissing every scar he found there, until he could claim their mouth. He took everything he could from it, every last bit, licking and biting. They were tasting him too, just as hungry and desperate as little moans escaped them as they moved their lower half.

It suddenly hit Lucifer that this was probably a bad idea. On the hospital bed where he laid after suffering a car crash, that is. But could not be asked to give a damn as he could get intoxicated on everything that person was and how intense their smell had become. If he died like this, for doing this, then it was a death worth having.

"Love you, love you" came out in breathy confession against his mouth. The love of his love hugged his neck, eyes closed behind their glasses. Their insides were trembling and gripping him just as hard as he was, needing more of him, demanding it. "Was so scared. When I got the call. You weren't waking up. That is not how you are supposed to go. You have no right to leave me. You promised me."

"I am not going anywhere, babe" Lucifer barely had any idea of what they were talking about.

But it felt important to reassure them all the same, because he was sure about that too. He would never leave that flavor behind if he had any choice on it. They would have to forced him for that to happen.

"You are not?" A small defenseless sound came out of them as they moved faster.

"Never" Lucifer got his hands under the skirt to grab at the real skin of their behind, digging his nails in.

His were short, but he scratched on his way to their entrance where. He felt himself and then the limits of their entrance, rubbing his fingers around it. When he was sure that his skin had gathered some slick, he brought it up to his mouth and licked himself clean. His husband and wife joined him, their tongue finding each other again around his fingers. They licked his index from the base to his nail and sucked it whole, their brow crinkling.

"Love you" they let out between groan, sucking their teeth in. "Lucifer, Lucifer. My love, my darling."

Squeezing, trembling, so impossibly hot that Lucifer would not be surprised if he found out he had melted and now he was mixing in together inside this person, creating the most delicious treat anyone could have.

"Love you too" grunted, pulling them closer, not wanting to waste any air that wasn't impregnanted with them for any amount of time.

He didn't even know this person's name. He didn't know what were their habits or quirks. How they were in the morning or before going to bed. They were a blank slate for everything, except this, and Lucifer knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that was more than enough for him. Whatever love was supposed to be or feel like, he didn't want it if it wasn't like this.

They hugged him again. All the sounds that were coming out of their bruised up lips he could not feel them on his tongue, but they were the perfect spice anyway. They chocked up as their walls collapsed around Lucifer and hold tighter together, an earthquake running their arching back as they mewled into the air. Their eyes were watery and their breathing was just pants, but they did not stop moving.

"Luci" they whimpered and he responded. With a kiss and a grip of their waist, Lucifer let himself come undone inside of that perfect body.

Only then did they seemed to relax, letting themselves fall on top of him to catch their breath. Lucifer lifted their skirt further and he let that smell fill his lungs. His own aroma was nothing especial, but there was exquisite. He wanted so badly to ask if he could clean them up with his tongue, but as clarity was coming back to him he already knew the answer was no. Hospital bed were not made for that much maneuvering.

So they stayed like that, still connected, and Lucifer find he did not mind the craziness of what they did. He felt good about himself even. If he got someone like that person with him, he was sure already that his was not a dull life. Eventually, they lifted by their hands and kissed. No tongue or saliva, just a gentle pressure of their lips. Their red lipstick was now a mess, but in Lucifer's humble opinion it wasn't a bad look at all.

"This is going to sound so bad" prefaced Lucifer when he couldn't resist it any longer. "I am so sorry, but what is your name again?"

The love of his life smiled and let out a snort before they started giggling on top of him. It was a vigorious, contagious sound, and he also loved that.

"Oh, I guess I never said it, did I?" They cleaned up the corners of their eyes behind their glasses, their shoulders still shaking by the hilarity. "My bad for that one, dear. You call me Al when we are with people. Sometimes Alastor if we are alone or with people we really trust. That is my real name. And before you ask, yes, I am a man" added with a chuckle, making circles on his chest over the hospital gown. "Just with a few added features, thanks to you."

"Did I make you like that?" Lucifer opened his eyes, amazed. What a fucking genius he was if he had anything to do with how the body of this person was. He should be getting some kind of award or something for it.

"Well, you paid for it at least. You have lots of talents, my love, but medicine is not one of them" Alastor kissed his nose as he straighten up. "I can show you more of what I have once you are out of here."

"At home?" asked Lucifer as Alastor pulled a trembling legs up. He felt himself cold as he slipped out.

"Our home, dear" Making some visible effort, Alastor managed to get himself back on the chair and then the floor, puffing out the skirt around him. Lucifer reached over to pull his pants back up, but now the hand of Alastor retained his wrist. "Don't you dare" said with a new edge on his tone. "I haven't finished my meal."

"Oh" Lucifer understood what he meant when he saw Alastor brushing a portion of hair behind his ear before bending over.

The tongue cleaning him up made him twitch a couple of times, almost conjuring him back to life, but he didn't quite get there before it was just over. Alastor made sure to accomodate his gown back in place and rise the bed sheet to his chest, kissing his cheek. His breath contained both of their essence mixed up. Lucifer reacted quickly, taking him by the neck to get them into a new kiss. He sucked on their tongue, knowing that a portion of his was there, but there was also still traces of just Alastor, of his added feature for his pleasure. When he let Alastor go, his eyelid were half way down and a gentle blush was spread across their face.

"Satisfied, my love?" His voice was somewhat raspy.

"No. But it will have to do for now" Lucifer said sincerely and caressed his cheek. He wanted to bite into it, sink his teeth as deep as he could go, see how much flesh he could take with him. The image of what that would be like for a second was so clear and vivid, so desirable, that it almost scared him. He wanted to do it and at the same time, didn't Alastor looked just beautiful as he was? He swallowed up. "Okay, I gotta ask now before I lose my head. Do you… want to eat me too or this is a weird thing that is just mine? Be honest with me."

Alastor laughed again, not with malice, so at least Lucifer wanted to think that was a good sign. Once he calmed down, Alastor sat down on the chair again and took his hand to squeeze with his.

"I do, darling" said, tilting his head. "Everyday I want to devour you. Every portion of you, until there is not even bones left. It's not as abnormal as you may think it is, but it's not as common either. Some people are just more… appetizing for other kinds of people and only them. They have many names. The ones I was taught to as a kid were Treat and Bite. You were taught those were Cakes and Forks. Most people are neither, just living their lives eating their normal foods and never looking at other human as nothing but fellow men, but a portion of the population enters into either of those two categories. We both just so happen to have been born being a combination of the two, as someone that can both attract others who wants to eat us and also with the desire to eat others. I imagine that is part of the reason why our flavors are so particular for each other. What you feel for me, that hunger, is perfectly natural. There is nothing wrong with you for it, my love."

Lucifer nodded with a sigh. That was a relief at least. He turned his hand to lock fingers with Alastor, something he did as well. He caressed the golden ring that Alastor had, which for the first time he realized was a copy of the one he had on his other hand.

"So… we are actually married" said.

"That is your most pressing concern after what I told you?" Alastor smile turned to a side, amused.

"I mean, I think I got the message clearly enough already. If you wanted to kill me to eat me, you would have probably do so already. Same for me. So I can only assume that by doing stuff like the one we did now, we keep it under control."

"Most of the time" Alastor nodded slowly.

Lucifer wanted to ask what did that meant, when someone knocked on the door. This time he was sure, the extreme of Alastor's bandana twitched slightly towards the sound. Before any of them could react, his doctor and someone just behind him came into the room. A tall blonde woman that was undeniable beautiful came in and Lucifer felt absolutely nothing in her presence.

She was dressed like a business woman, her purple suit jacket sticking out around her waist to accentuate her figure, helped by a belt, while her skirt fell under her knees. The perfume that she was wearing surely was beautiful, no doubt turned heads in the streets, but that was it. Nothing about her essence was anywhere close to create on him the same reaction as Alastor's did. For some reason, that relaxed him. They were truly unique for each other.

His doctor came up to him to inspect his eyes and do a few questions, ones that he could finally answer. He felt fine. With a slight headache at the worst. The lights did not bother him. His reflexes were normal. During all of this, she remained with her back against the wall, waiting.

"When he can be discharged?" asked the woman after a while.

"We want to keep him here for observation for the night" The doctor pocketed both his hands at his sides. "All his tests came out favorably, so it's mostly for precaution. If nothing happens, he should be able to walk out tomorrow afternoon."

The doctor gave him a few more words of reassurance and excused himself outside. The woman did not followed him.

"Is it true?" she asked, crossing her arms as she came closer to the bed. Lucifer felt Alastor tensed up at his side, although he had no idea why. She looked actually concerned for him. Maybe she was his sister or something? "He said that you lost your memory. Do you know who I am, Lucifer?"

"Sorry" Lucifer shook his head.

The woman sighed.

"Well, that is certainly a problem" She looked down as she pulled out one of her gloves, lifting her hand for him to see the golden ring she had. "I am Lilith, your wife."

It took some time for the explanation to fully sink in, but Lucifer thought finally got it. Legally speaking, and as far the rest of their extended family was concerned about, Lilith was his wife. They both shared a big mansion at the edge of town where they usually had family meeting and Lilith lived on most of the time, when she didn't had business trips as the heir to one of the biggest companies in the country.

Their marriage was done out of pure convenience to keep both of their families satisfied, since it did well for both of their business. His name, Morningstar, was at the front of many industries, so the union with Lilith's branch only made sense to solidify both their businesses. She had her own things going that had nothing to do with him and he did too. That is where Alastor came in.

Alastor was the housewife he actually lived with in a small and quieter neighborhood. The short and quick story was that they met each other, fell in love and got living on a house that Lucifer had to get out of because of work or the family calling him over. All of their neighbors knew them as the Magne, just another normal young family that did not stand out at all, and that is how they apparently liked it. For them, they were Lucifer and Alice Magne. Alastor, under his real name, worked in a little radio station, owned by the Morningstars, during the morning, offering news and commentary for his listeners, and then was back home to wait for Lucifer. It was on his arrival to the station that someone in production told him about Lucifer's crash. His replacement had to fill in as Alastor immediately drove to the hospital.

Lucifer himself was on his way to the mansion, about to have another business meeting with their associates, when the crash happened. It was just so lucky that Charlie was in daycare already and not with him.

"Charlie?" questioned Lucifer.

Charlie was the three year old daughter that he and Lilith made, back when they were still trying to make their personal relationship work. Charlie usually lived with him and Alastor at their smaller house, but sometimes she also had to come in to the mansion with him, where she had her own bedroom waiting for her. Lilith also just liked to spend time with her, after all, and sometimes the rest of the family wanted to see them all together.

As far Charlie was concerned, Lilith and Alastor were both her mom and refer to them as such, with Alastor gaining the title mommy Al if she needed to clarify about which one she was talking about. Being as she was only three years old, she did not question the arrengement. All she knew about was that all of her parents loved her and would do anything to keep her safe, wich was more than any other kids would get. Lilith and Alastor both carried pictures of her in their purses for Lucifer to look at. The one from Lilith was Charlie as a two year old toddler, waving at the camera from a floaty that Lucifer was holding at the kiddie pool. They were both smiling at the camera, the sun shinning down in their their hair that looked to be the same tone in the grayscale the images allowed.

Alastor's picture, in the other hand, seemed to be a more recent one. Charlie was waving again from carpet of a living room that had to be their house, surrounded by two huge and ferocious looking dogs, that nonetheless were wagging their tails. Both of them were bigger than the kid between them.

"Those are Razzle and Dazzle" explained Alastor, reading correctly the instinctive apprehension in Lucifer's face. "They are guard dogs especially trained to keep Charlie safe from any threat. You insisted that Charlie should have something like that when we first moved in. Don't get fooled by their looks, dear. They are perfectly safe to keep around and Charlie adores them. She plays with them all the time."

Lucifer didn't know if that totally squandered his fears, but did alliviate them somewhat. He still wondered if he really needed to go that far to keep his daughter safe, but assumed that it had to be it. From everything both his wives were telling him, Charlie was a happy normal child that was always laughing and running around, being the joy of whatever house she was in. He could see himself wanting to protect that whatever means necessary. That just made sense to him.

It was curious, really. He haven't even seen the kid by himself and he was already sure that he loved her, even if now she was a stranger for him. Who could ever resist that bright smile and those sparkling eyes?

"Where is she now?" asked.

"Back at home" said Alastor, saving the picture again. "Husk, one of the associates we keep around for such cases, has been taking care of her. Last time I called, she had dinner already and Husk had just give her bedtime story."

"I took care of the meeting you were going to, so you don't have to worry about that" added Lilith, letting out a sigh as she opened up her purse again, taking out a cigarrete. She light it up holding it between her dark purple lips, matching the rest of her outfit. After taking a long inhale, it seemed she finally relaxed a little as the smoke came out her nose. Lucifer pursed his lips to a side. He hoped that Alastor didn't smoke. That would ruin his perfect smell. "You don't have to worry about the driver either. He is dead."

"They died in the crash?" Lucifer was a little surprised to hear that. Besides the bandage around his head, he had nothing else that made it look like it could have a too brutal incident to actually take someone's life.

Lilith chuckled lightly, as if she was finding the question cute.

"Sure, let's go with that" She took another inhale, the extreme of her cigarrete lighting up as it was consumed. Her hand hold the barrel with her fingers extended, cold and elegant. "In any case, it's all arranged for you to take a break for a few weeks. Everyone understands, of course. According to the doctor, your memory might come back on its own eventually. We both agreed" said, making a gesture to Alastor, who lifted his chin up, "that the house might help you out more than the mansion. I can teach you the ropes of the business all over again if necessary, but cross fingers that we won't have to go through that" She took a final inhale and flicked the butt through the open window. "Anything else you need to know, Lucifer?"

"Mmm" Lucifer thought about it, but there was really only one thing that was nagging him and neither of them had addressed it. "Are you… like, us? A… what did you say, Al? Pork or Ripe?"

Lilith stared, confused.

"It's Cake or Fork, dear" said Alastor, patting his hand.

"I literally just learned those terms today" Lucifer pouted, blushing a little. It wasn't his fault he haven't caught on with everything yet.

"Oh!" Lilith laughed softly and it wasn't difficult to see other men falling for her, at all. Lucifer could only admire it like a painting or a pretty flower, without any other emotional investment. "A Fork, dear. But you don't have to worry about that. You are both the opposite of appetizing for me. I get my meals elsewhere" She flashed him a big white smile. One that it wasn't also difficult to imagine covered in someone's else blood. "For everyone else too, you are a Fork just like me and nothing else. There is nothing wrong with not being one, of course, but it's better for the Morningstar brand to keep it that way. I am sure you can guess as to why."

Lucifer didn't had to think too hard about it. The answer was just logical to him, like answering what was two plus two.

"So everyone thinks we are the predators rather than the prey."

Lilith smiled again. Alastor hummed with approval at his side.

They talked some more, but seeing as Lucifer was aware of the biggest aspects that were more urgent for him to know about his life, Lilith eventually had to take her leave. She was going to keep tabs on him and send a new driver to take them back home tomorrow. If he regained his memory back or needed her for something else entirely, she was just one phone call away.

She didn't try to kiss him or touch him in anyway. Not that Lucifer wanted her to do either, but did left him questioning if his smell was so repulsive to her or it was just a courtesy towards Alastor. In the end, Lilith wished them both a good night and came out the hospital room. Moments later, a nurse came in with a tray with food for him. Alastor rushed in to stand up to recieve it from her.

"Thank you, dear, I can take it from here" said with a gentle smile. His voice had turn soft and slightly higher in its pitch. The change was so flawless that Lucifer couldn't help but to stare at him. "Oh, stop it. It just a little trick to avoid questions" despite his words, it was clear to him that Alastor was pleased with his reaction.

Lucifer stared to sat up. Alastor placed the tray on a side, helping him to accomodate the pillows at his back. Only then he brought the food and sat down again. Everytime he stand up, Lucifer could get a wift of what they had done. The knowledge that Alastor was bare under one layer of fabric, traces of his own seed no doubt making a mess off him, had his mouth watering again. What would he give to being able to lick it all up until Alastor was spotless again.

Until he realized something.

"Al" called, stopping his hand from going to pick the knife.

"Yes, darling?"

"If Lilith is a fork like me…" started out, dread starting to come in as Alastor's smile just seemed to get bigger in his face, "does that mean she can smell the same things we do?"

Alastor's little twinkle on his eyes was enough for an answer.

"So she knows…"

"From the moment the door opened up, yes. She literally could not know" Alastor reached over to kiss his cheek and patted his thigh. Lucifer did not know how to react to that. "You heard her, dear. She doesn't care what you do. Our family has very little to do with her. But it's never a bad thing to remind her of that from time to time" added with a chuckle, brushing a strand of blonde hair out of his way to put it behind his ear.

"You were marking territory" summarized Lucifer.

That made Alastor's hand stop from caressing his cheek, a second look of careful consideration from those green eyes.

"Does the notion bother you?"

Lucifer thought about it. He felt like he normally would be bothered by it. The idea of being seen as property to be used without his knowledge was not he was jumping of joy from. But when it came from Alastor, it didn't feel weird at all and that was the part he needed to reflect about until the answer came back to him.

"No" said finally, meeting his gaze. "I would do the same thing for you."

Alastor sighed, obviously relieved. His smile returned as it had never gone away. It made Lucifer to want to have another kiss and so he went for it, his tongue licking under the bigger lips until he could get that glorious taste again. But this time Alastor did cut it short, pulling back.

"My dear, you should actually rest" said, cupping his cheek.

Lucifer nuzzled against that palm. It wasn't soft, rather hard and ruggish in a way he just knew most housewives wouldn't have it. But it felt safe and comfortable to rely on it. A strong hand he could trust on and lamented when slipped away from him.

"Eat" ordered Alastor softly, offering him the first bite of the food in his plate. Lucifer pouted a little at the cut of stake. He already knew that it was never going to be nearly as delicious as other options he had on that room. Alastor sighed, rolling his eyes. "Only this time. Don't get used" warned and took the cut to his own mouth, chewing on it.

When he came later to find his mouth to feed him, Lucifer's stomach growled.

That night, Alastor slept on the bed next to his. Later he was going to explain that the Morningstar donated a lot of money to that hospital, so nobody could tell him he couldn't have on his room whatever guest he wanted for as long he wanted to. But for the moment, as he saw the face of his husband-wife relaxing, Lucifer didn't care to find out. It was enough that it was happening at all.

The next day the doctor declared him healthy enough to be discharged. Lilith was there to listen up to all major precautions while Alastor was helping Lucifer to move to a wheelchair, after sending the nurse that was supposed to do it to pick up his discarded clothes instead. Essentially, he was recommended a lot of rest, relax and try to get back into the normal routine of his life. He could take these as unexpected vacations too.

Lilith recieved some painkillers for any other incoming headache. Once they were in the parking lot, Lilith gave them all to Alastor, who put the bottles on his own purse. A driver came down the vehicle in front of which they stopped and hold the door open for Lucifer to climb in. The car looked absolutely perfect. Obviously this one had nothing to do with the one he had his accident in. Just how many did he had at this disposition? How succesful was their brand to allow that?

"You aren't coming?" asked to Lilith when saw her moving to another vehicle, this one without a driver.

"I have things to take care of back at the office" Lilith put on some sunglasses and adjusted the hat over head. "Send Charlie a kiss from me. Give me a call for any news."

"Will do" said Lucifer from the seat of the car, since Alastor didn't seemed willing to say anything as he returned the wheelchair to the hospital. "Take care, Lilith" He waved at her as she climbed into her car. A smile and corresponding gesture answered before she drove away.

When Alastor came back to him from the other side, Lucifer looked around the vehicle. Nothing of it was remotely familiar for him.

"Is this a new car or we had it before?"

"New one, dear" Alastor sighed when the door was finally closed and knocked the ceiling. "Home now, please."

"Yes, Mrs" The driver didn't need anything else to start moving.

"The other one was unsalvagable, unfortunately" Alastor took his hand over the seat and gave it a squeeze. "A pity, really. You liked it."

"This one is not bad" said Lucifer with a little shrug, trying to be optimistic. It's not like he could really lament losing something he didn't remember having. There was no point in crying over spilled milk anyway. "So, Mrs Magne" said, scooping a bit closer.

Alastor chuckled, keeping Lucifer's knuckles against his lips. He had reapplied his make up back at the hospital's bathroom and looked perfect again, a bright vibrant red that made his lips look juicy. As if Lucifer just had to bite into them a little and they would explode with flavor inside his mouth.

"Yes, Mr Magne?"

"Don't tell my other wife" whispered Lucifer, getting even more closer to smell his neck and give it a soft kiss, resisting the impulse to nibble at it harder. If for nothing else, because he knew once he started he would need to go further and they could do that back at home, at their own room "but I think I love you already."

"Do you now?" Alastor's smile was a full satisfied grin. "With just one day of meeting each other? How rushed and impulsive of you, darling."

"But is true, though" Lucifer kissed the line of his jaw. Alastor had put some perfume behind his ears and behind his neck, but the true delight was under that and he breathed that deeply. "Is it really that crazy?"

"Mmm" Alastor moved his head a little, letting him more space. "Perhaps, but it's not that different from the first time we met each other, I suppose."

Lucifer could believe that. He could not imagine tasting something like Alastor and don't want to posses it, grabbed it, make it his just as much as his own hand was.

"What about you?" asked, nuzzling the side of his head. "Did you felt like that when you met me?"

Alastor did not respond immediately. He did however turned to find his lips and kiss him. Gentle licks exchanged between each other. Lucifer had no idea if Alastor was melting on top of him or he was, but it was nice and it was his.

"No" said Alastor finally, gently nuzzling his nose against his. "I wanted to kill you and just devour you right there."

Lucifer straighten up. He knew already he wasn't joking.

"Why didn't you?"

"Because you told me I could have more" Alastor ran a finger down his cheek and caressed his chin with a thumb. "You promised me a whole feast if I became yours instead."

"Did… did I do it?"

Alastor snorted softly and nodded. His smile was soft, beatiful and warm like a blanket on top of his shoulders while a storm broke outside his window. Lucifer relaxed again.

When the car finally stopped, Lucifer looked over the house. It took exactly what he would have expected from any other average house. The white picket fence and garden gnomes over the grass didn't made it any different than any of the other houses at each side. The bushes of flowers at the front probably were the biggest difference, colorful and lively. Someone took care of them regularly.

At the entrance of the house, a buff man finished the cigarrete that he was smoking and throw it towards the street as he came closer to open the car door. Taller than Lucifer, shorter than Alastor, with two streaks of white hair at each side of his head, the man scratched casually the long sideburn connected to his black beard.

"Sir" greeted at Lucifer. Lucifer came out as Alastor opened up the other door, going to speak with the driver. The man offered his hand to shake so Lucifer naturally took it. He patted Lucifer's arm as he gripped firmly. His palm was rough, like Alastor's, but bigger. "How are you doing? Al told me the whole head thing."

"No change on that front" Lucifer stood up. "I don't know who you are."

"Thought so" The man closed the car's door. "Name is Oscar Husker, but everyone calls me Husk anyway. I just put Charlie to sleep. She did not want to go down."

If that was Husk, then that was the man that took care of Charlie when he or Alastor were not available. His daughter was safe with him. Alastor trusted him. Lucifer decided he liked him, based on that. He didn't need anything else.

"How was she?" asked as they walked the entrance of stones back to the house. Behind them, the car moved again as Alastor came to join them.

"Oh, you know, she was fine for the most part. She got scared initially when she find out her dad was at the hospital, but she is a strong kid. We would have visited, but the doctor said that meeting too many "new people" at once could be overwhelming."

Husk opened up the door of the house and step aside to let him in. Lucifer barely managed to give a few steps in when two dogs came running to him, sniffing him intensively. They did not jumped him or made any noise, even though their tails were wagging. It only took Lucifer patting their heads for the both to sit, as if waiting an order. They were actually well trained. As he entered into the lobby, he looked around. The antlers decorating the wall and disecated animals on the shelves, somehow, surprised him and at the same time not.

"So it's true?" asked Husk. "Nothing rings a bell for you?"

Lucifer shook his head, sighning. It wasn't an ugly house, it looked cozy. He would love to have memories attached to it.

"Doctor said that it's only temporary" said Alastor, coming in and leaving his purse on the side. He wasn't bothering to change his voice in front of Husk. Razzles and Dazzle sniffed him as well, sitting down back after receiving each a pet. "We don't know how long is going to take so…"

Before he could finish his sentence, they all heard the tiny steps running down the hallway. Lucifer moved in front of it, hopeful, and was not dissapointed when he saw the same girl on the picture of Alastor running to him. The pictures no way did her any justice, failed completely to capture her porcelain face, her shiny long blonde hair and her vibrant soft brown eyes. The same ones that he had, according to what everyone said.

"Daddy!"

"Charlie!" He kneeled to receive her in his arms, hugging her tight and kissing her head. He could have lost his memory, but that was his baby girl, his daughter and the love that poured out of him felt as natural as blood spilling out from an open wound in the neck. "I missed you so much, my little princess" said, because he did, on the night after finding out that she existed in his life at all.

Back at the hospital, he had asked Alastor for as much about their daughter as he could think. Hopefully so Charlie wouldn't notice that big of a difference with him and get concerned. He knew already what nickname he had for her, her favorite color, her favorite brand of cereal, what games she liked to play, her fears and favorite stories. He memorized it all as well as he could, even though Alastor tried to tell him that most of her preferences changed every other weeks anyway. It didn't mattered at all as long he got to know about her.

"Little miss, you should be sleeping already" Alastor came behind him and kissed Charlie's crown.

"I wanted to see papa!" pouted Charlie. "What if papa got lost because he didn't know where home was?!"

Lucifer squealed internally, moved beyond words that his daughter thought about him like that. He kissed her cheeks over and over, already sure that his kid was nothing but an angel the world did not deserve. Now the dogs made total sense for him. Anything to keep her safe and happy.

"If he did, I would bring him back, dear" Alastor brushed her hair gently. "Little princesses such as yourself should only concern themselves to sleeping when it's their time, so their parents don't worry about them."

"But I wanted to see papa" Charlie hide her face on his neck and Lucifer laughed good naturedly, rubbing her back.

"Just for this one time is fine" said, turning to kiss Alastor's cheek too. "Want papa to tuck you in, little princess?"

Charlie's head nodded, gripping to his shirt. Lucifer nuzzled the top of her head and squeezed her some more.

"Thank you so much for looking after her, Husk" Lucifer walked to the man to shake his hand again. "We appreciate it."

"No problem, sir" Husk nodded. "Al can contact me if you need anything."

"That won't be necessary, old pal" Alastor gripped the shoulders of the man and not subtly moved him towards the door. "I am here now and I can take care of my own husband. You can retire easy now."

Husk groaned deeply, as if none of that took him by surprise.

"Bye, uncle Husk!" said Charlie over Lucifer's shoulder.

"See you later, kid" Husk send her a little wave before Alastor closed the door in his face.

Lucifer was taken aback a little by the amount of chains and safe that were left for Alastor to close now. They really took their security seriously there. He waited until Alastor was done with that so then he could beg him with his eyes where the fuck was Charlie's room. Alastor pointed to the left side of the hallway and then walked with him, hand on his shoulder.

He really didn't need the guide in the end. The room of Charlie was marked by a pink sign surrounded by rainbows and puppies with her name written in golden, sparkly glitter. Inside, the only bed available looked like that of an actual princess, down to the curtains at each side hold by ropes. Razzle and Dazzle came right behind them, each standing on the side.

"Does it hurt, papa?" asked Charlie as Lucifer lowered her to her bed, lifting the white bedsheet to cover her up again. As he did, the two dogs laid on the carpet. They understood that as soon Charlie was down, they were down too.

She was already slow blinking, relaxing under the hand of Lucifer brushing the hair off her forehad. Lucifer let his palm rest against her hair line, thumb gently rubbing over her eyebrow.

"No, sweetie" said, even though he did have a persistent headache. "Papa is strong and came out like nothing happened. But they forced me to be there just for precaution, you see?" He bended over to kiss her cheek. "I am going to be just fine, princess. Now you go to sleep or mommy Al is going to make you have veggies for breakfast."

Charlie whinned, clumsily rubbing her eyes. Alastor huffed on the side, but otherwise did not stop him as he finished accomodating the blanket on top of Charlie and wish her a good night with one last kiss on her temple. Alastor closed the curtain of Charlie's window and turned on the little lamp in the shape of a duckie in the nighstand. When he bended over to kiss Charlie too, her response was no longer intelligible.

As they went to the door and Alastor switched the light off, Lucifer looked back at the peaceful picture and knew he would do anything, anything at all, from keeping it that way.

The room that Alastor said was theirs, in the other hand, had a lot less pink. Lucifer shuffled his feet over the red carpet towards the bed covered in red duvets and sat down in the edge. On the nightstand at his side, he grabbed the frammed picture to look at it more closely. It was him and Alastor taking hands in front of a judge, in what obviously was a courthouse. He dressed with a suit while used a white one, a hat with a small veil falling in front of his face.

"I thought Lilith was my legal wife?"

"For Lucifer Morningstar, yes" said Alastor. The moment he heard the sound of a zipper going on, Lucifer left the picture on a side and laid on the bed, admiring the espectacle of Alastor taking out with dress with a sigh. That one was different from the one he used yesterday, so it didm't have his seed spread across it. But the smell it liberated in the air the more skin got exposed was just as attractive as it was before. "For Lucifer Magne, I am. If anyone tried to research into the life of that man, they would see a common office worker and very little else. Just like if they tried to search for Alice Magne."

Lucifer wanted to know why the secretism, but as soon Alastor was out of the dress and stood in front of their closet, taking out his earring and the pearl necklace, he knew he wasn't going to absorb one lick of new information even if Alastor tried to explain it to him. Especially not when he saw the curvature standing out from Alastor's chest that was freed from its bra. Those soft shapes were the perfect size for his hands, his mouth. The moment of learning about himself was way past him now.

He had been right, of course. The scars were not limited to his arms. They extended over his back, across those longs legs that he wanted to bite into. He wanted to lick them, make them bleed again. For a moment Alastor just shuffled to get his night gown, but stopped at the silence behind him. He looked back and Lucifer grinned, waving at him from the bed as he kicked his legs in the air.

"Honestly, dear" Alastor sighed, putting a hand on his waist. "Only you would let your curiosity be squandered so easily. I am telling you about a life you know nothing about and it's like you don't care."

"You know, this is technically our first night official night as husband and wife in our own home" said Lucifer, casually pulling the covers off. "It would be a pity to waste it."

Alastor rolled his eyes. But then he came to the bed voluntarely.

"Just once" warned. "Later you will listen to me."

It wasn't just once.

#radioapple #appleradio #duckiedeer #hazbin hotel au #lucifer x alastor #1950s au

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death-himself · 1 year ago

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ok episode 6 thoughts

decent episode, doesn't top episodes 4 or 5 for me but it was good

kronos being portrayed by his headmaster is an interesting choice

the iris message is so much blurrier than I always imagined i'm crying

144p iris message you would think it would be clearer but nope that's so funny to me

with how involved rick is with the show that means that's always what he imagined iris messaging looking like I can't iris messaging is ruined for me

we didn’t get percy talking to the zebra T-T it’s fine tho i forgot that even happened in the book until i checked after watching

their whole conversation while watching the animals escape i love them

their chemistry is perfect in this episode

THE LOTUS CASINO HAS A ROLLER COASTER WHAT

i get people wanted poker face, but the dua lipa song is perfect, it’s like a slightly more modern version

i don’t know fashion throughout the centuries so i can’t really say anything about the costume designs, but i kinda wish there were more obviously out of place outfits in the lotus

is augustus mentioned at all in the books? i don’t remember a satyr named augustus so i guess he was made just for the tv series?

luring grover in with pan is a cool change

grover slowly losing his memory was played pretty well

i keep getting impressed by how good these kids are as actors

i honestly don’t know why people hate on lin manuel miranda so much, i think he made for a pretty good hermes this episode

but also the way they’re portraying hermes feels a little bit off?? i don’t really know how but something didn’t feel right about his character

i do feel like he’s the most “human” out of the gods introduced so far, and i think that came through pretty well

“to be so close to someone you love, knowing neither of you has any choice but to keep hurting each other?” that line is just-

as someone with a really complicated relationship with my dad that line just hurt goddamn

the flashback percy had??? i feel like that line doesn’t 100% relate to percy and sally’s relationship, but i see how that’d be how percy would feel

unless i’m dumb and that was referencing his relationship with poseidon lol

ok the end of their talk with hermes i wanna talk about that a bit

parenting sometimes being watching your kid struggle and being powerless to stop it: completely true

“we’re all just doing the best we can” now that’s some godly bullshit

the difference between that first quote and gods being parents is that they’re literally capable of doing anything

they could be more present in their kids lives, they just CHOOSE not to, that’s how it works in the books

sure it’s coming from a place where he thinks interacting will only make things worse but???

i can’t articulate my thoughts, i liked this scene tho, my thoughts on hermes are mixed as they should be

ANNABETH STEALING HERMES’S KEYS

“i’m multi-talented” I LOVE HER

percy forgetting grover felt so unsettling to me

hermes driving a taxi so real

percy trying to drive, i’m not gonna lie, that scene went on a little too long for me, but i was laughing the whole time so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

ok percy getting 4 pearls instead of 3??? idk why but that change pissed me off

i paused to get out the book, and i guess it makes more sense then hades just deciding to return her

but at the same time there’s the line in the prophecy, he’s supposed to leave her in the underworld for that part of the prophecy

are they just going to end up accidentally breaking one of the pearls or trading it or something? that’s the only way i can see that still working out

i feel like these episode reviews always turn out sounding more negative than positive, but i swear i’m enjoying the hell out of this series, i just have trouble articulating joy lol

#pjo #pjo disney+#percy jackson #pjo spoilers #pjo disney+ spoilers #pjo tv show #pjo tv show spoilers

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sailorsplatoon · 5 months ago

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ok, imagine this: driving on a beautiful summer's night, windows down, arm hanging out the window as the warm summer air breeze's across their face, the road seeming to stretch on for miles... what music does everyone put on?

Okay I know I could just answer this with everyone’s preferred genres but... I also want to talk about music so this is going to be kinda specific.

Four has a chill mix that they listen to. Much of it is made of Dedf1sh songs, but there’s also quite a few video game OSTs like the Animal Crossing New Horizons Main Theme and the Super Smash Bros Ultimate Stage Builder song.

Acht is listening to synthwave stuff like Synth+Plus by Merodi, though they’ll also put on the occasional lo-fi song.

Harmony is listening to Caramelldansen on loop.

Marie is listening to instumental versions of her favorite songs, like Mess with Mine (Instrumental) by Oh Geeez.

Shina is literally just listening to HOT TO GO! by Chappell Roan and has nearly crashed the car because she’s dancing.

Callie is belting out the lyrics to every single Steven Universe song.

Elita is listening to show tunes, more specifically the songs from Annie.

Shiver is listening to a playlist she’s made of iconic villain songs. She’s listened to Poor Unfortunate Souls form The Little Mermaid at least five times.

Birch is listening to indie folk music like Tho I’m a Tortise by Madilyn Mei. They’re trying to sing along, but they keep messing up the lyrics.

Frye is listening to anime openings. She doesn’t even know the shows that most of the songs are from, she just likes the way they sound.

Elle is crying while listening to Jake Wesley Rogers songs. Sometimes they’re happy tears and somtimes they’re not.

Captain is listening to Hatsune Miku.

Eight is listening to electro swing songs. He’s taken the time to memorize all the lyrics to Lost in the Rhythm by Jamie Berry feat. Octavia Rose.

Neo is also listening to Hatsune Miku.

Big Man is listening to animation meme songs, partially because he likes them and partially because he's trying to figure out how to get a Deep Cut song to go viral.

Pearl is listening to punk rock, she’s recently discovred Swing At Me by TX2 and she loves it.

Marina is listening to 2010’s pop like Cake By the Ocean by DNCE and Same Old Love by Selena Gomez

Thank you for the ask!!! Almost all of these came right out of my music library… my music taste makes absolutely zero sense.

#agent 4 #acht splatoon #marie splatoon #callie splatoon #frye onaga #shiver hohojiro #big man splatoon #agent 8 #captain 3 #neo agent 3 #pearl houzuki #marina ida #splatoon oc #asks #ask box

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reneesbooks · 9 months ago

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a little jarthur for sunday morning

*claws out of my own grave* the students haven't killed me yet. here's the first coherent thing i've written in literal weeks

A rap at Arthur’s window makes him look up from his notes. He see’s Jack’s beaming smile through the crack of the shutters and throws them open, leaning on his elbows on the sill. “You know you’re not supposed to be here.”

“That’s what makes it fun.” Jack’s smile grows impossibly brighter. “It’s the coronation today.”

“I know.”

“Everyone’s invited.”

Arthur raises an eyebrow. “Even street rats and orphans like us?”

“As long as you don’t announce yourself as such.” Jack offers him a hand. “Come with me?”

Arthur glances over his shoulder at his bedroom door. The nuns won’t expect him until dinner; he has plenty of time to get back before they’ll notice he’s gone. He turns back to Jack and takes his hand, smiling back at him. “You’re going to get me in so much trouble.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

They blend into the crowds streaming towards the castle gates and Arthur cranes his neck to see as much of the gardens as possible as they are herded down the main path by the royal guard. The great hall is even bigger than he’d imagined, the chandeliers sparkling with light that dances across the walls. He and Jack climb the stairs up to the balcony around the perimeter of the room and jostle their way to the front, leaning against the railing. From this point, they can see the nobility snacking on pastries and the priest pacing back and forth on the dais, ordering around altar girls and snapping at servants. Next to the ornately carved wooden throne stands a scowling soldier in a deep purple cloak, his piercing green eyes scanning the crowds continuously.

“That’s Keelan O’Leyne,” Jack whispers to him, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Have you heard the songs?”

Arthur shrugs. “The nuns have mentioned him once or twice. They don’t seem to be a fan.”

“They wouldn’t be.” Jack strings his fingers through his hair, his eyes taking on an admiring quality that makes Arthur’s chest ache. “He’s dangerous and violent.” He sighs a little dreamily. “He’d probably cut my tongue out within ten minutes of meeting me.”

“It’s weird that you sound like you want him to.”

“Can you blame me?” Jack gestures at him, Arthur rakes his gaze over the knight again, admitting to himself that he is quite handsome. He would be more so without the deep scowl on his face. “Anyway, he’s famous for how he escaped the massacre of his village by slaughtering the twelve thieves that burned it down. He’s been the princess’s sworn shield since. I heard a rumor that he threatened to cut out the tongue of anyone who used her name in his presence.”

Arthur shivers. “No wonder the nuns don’t like him.”

The crowd hushes and the priest begins to chant. The doors at the end of the great hall swing open and Arthur cranes his neck as the princess steps into the room, floating down the aisle in a gown of blue silk. There is a black mourning stripe down the back. Jack whistles loudly and Arthur sees Keelan O’Leyne’s head whip in their direction, green eyes narrow with cold, calculated anger. Arthur hopes he isn’t able to tell which of them whistled and elbows Jack in the side. “You’re going to get your wish about meeting Keelan O’Leyne if you keep that up. It’s inappropriate.”

“I don’t care about the princess’s beauty, though it is great,” Jack says, his eyes still locked on where she’s advancing slowly down the aisle while the priest chants. “O’Leyne can have her. I’m looking at those jewels on her head and around her pretty neck.”

Arthur looks again, focusing on the crown and necklaces that she’s wearing. The necklace is three strands of jewels twisted together—rubies, pearls, and sapphires shaped into perfect spheres resting on her collarbone. The golden crown has been worked into the shape of flowers, the metal nearly blending into the princess’s braided hair. As she reaches the dais and turns to face the crowd, he gets a better view of it. The jeweled flowers glint in the light, more rubies and sapphires and pearls than Arthur has ever seen in his life set into the intricately wrought metal. He remembers from his reading that the crown jewels were made by the first queen of Raedora and placed on her head by her magical students. There were old stories, buried in the backs of his books, that they once served as powerful magical conduits for the moons.

“Long live Queen Maura of Raedora, blessed by rivers and moons!”

The room erupts in cheers and Arthur gets caught up in it, the shouting crowd around him and the carefree grin on Jack’s face. He could stay in this moment forever, the two of them anonymous in the crowd, not a gutter rat and an orphan but just two kids attending the coronation like everyone else.

Jack turns to him with that wide grin and says over the cheers, “I’m going to steal the crown jewels.”

Arthur laughs, perfect and unburdened. “Sure you are, Jack.”

“Oh, I am.” His eyes are full of plans and mirth and more plans. “And you’re going to help me.”

thieves of morbhard taglist (ask to be added <3): @k–havok @theharpywrites @allianaavelinjackson @oh-no-another-idea

#throwing this out there and running away #i have not had time for tubml.hell bc these students be killin me :(#also the antisemitism keeps rearing its ugly head in my inbox and tbh i just don't have the energy for it rn #but!! have some gay idiot thieves in the meantime!!#write #writers on tumblr #writeblr community #original fiction #fantasy novel #thieves #the raedoran cycle #jack #arthur #keelan #maura #rb original #hhhhhhhh they're so stupid i love them so much #keelan and jack's relationship my beloved. they are obsessed with each other in very different ways.#jack is obsessed with keelan in a way that is very homoerotic. keelan is obsessed with jack in a way that is unfortunately very. not.#they do meet face to face a few times. there is usually attempted murder involved.#for jack that's very sexy. keelan just wants him to die already #also fun fact!! jack has many different skills (street rat survival technique) including playing a couple of instruments!!#guess his favorite song ;)

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vanweezer · 1 year ago

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tagged by @longtimelie - 13 songs that have been on my mind recently and some blurbs because i love 2 run my dang mouth

black - pearl jam ; one of those songs where i know if i listen to it i gotta have a good cry. just a nice long cry. because holy fuck

all out life - slipknot ; i have mostly been thinking about this one because im learning it on bass by ear and it is so DIFFICULT to hear the bass on that track ....vman if you are out there tell these nerds to turn you up i am suffering out here. plz youre my only hope

r/pe me - nirvana ; naughty title i know but it is one of my favorite nirvana songs and i can't Not put it on repeat every now and then and i can't Not stare at a wall for 8 hours afterwards its about the routine of things

lies - korn ; ngl the main reason i think about this song as much as i do is because i wanna learn how to do the vocal work in this sooo bad SOOO bad i have a pretty good foundation for this typa screamin (i just be making noises that is me i am the noise maker) but i wanna get BETTER at it so i can DO THIS because WHAT THE FUCK!!!!

tornado of souls - megadeth ; other than the fact that i think dave mustaine is probably the cuntiest old man alive? no words. literal party song. good times all around

nothing else matters - metallica ; this was one of my first metallica songs i listened to back in middle school and for some reason for Some Reason it has found its way back to me in small bursts...could be me finding familiarity with it as i learn more about the band but oughh mygod!!!!!!nothing else matters!!!!

new slang - the shins ; early signs of my scrubs rewatching relapse is when i got this thing blasting ... there's no hope for me after that you just gotta understand

given up - linkin park ; watchin video clips of this song being done live has severed my jaw from my skull and permanently stapled it to the floor theres no fucking way no fucking WAY it can sound that good. houly shide

what love? - idkhow ; always gotta show love for what love like honestly? if we're talking instant pick me up songs? songs that fuck silly nasty crazy for no reason? instant bump instant replay all day every freakin day. the music video was so beautiful and the wait was so WORTH IT in this house we love what love

for all the cows - foo fighters ; for SOME reason i always find myself stimming along to this song or humming it or tapping it during work it's just s'darn catchy...whole album is s'darn catchy! what gives!!!!!!!!

good god - korn ; this is quite literally me every single day at work i am not even kidding not even in the slightest. probably not the best for my hearing that i have been rotating this album in my mind for a good two and a halfish months but yeah. crazy how they wrote a whole song about me at work

liberate - slipknot ; this song makes me feel a certain way 🚶 a quite silly and rambunctious typa way

darkness - rage against the machine ; it's the curse of the crow soundtrack i fear. aka one of the greatest movie soundtracks of all time. to me. can't imagine a world where i would ever skip this beauty and i will not ever BE part of a world where i ever skip this song as it comes on. no way no how

tagging @half-doomed & @sinclarsupremacy

#listening to pre kirk metallica and then megadeth right after like sigh i hate when mom and dad fight 😔‼️#but yeah this be the inner workings of my mind

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milkybonya · 3 years ago

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treasure reaction: s/o has a good voice

maknae line | hyung line here

order 030, anon: small classic milk tea with banana tapioca pearls and fresh passionfruit for treasure warnings: none! barista 🥛's note: tumblr only allows 10 images or gifs or whatever so i had to divide this into hyung and maknae line T.T

Doyoung

idk what this man is holding in this gif but lets say it's Doyoung sneakily recording your voice as you sing in the shower :") when you shower in the boys' dorm one day and Doyoung hears you singing for the first time, his first thought is to record it. he'll open the bathroom door slightly so he can just fit his arm through, and he'll hold his phone in his hand to voice record. of course, he'll tell you about it once you're done showering, and will delete it if it makes you uncomfortable, but he'll explain that your voice sounds so sweet that he wants it saved to his phone c:

"i know you won't always be near me to sing me to sleep, so i'll listen to this recording, instead, when i miss you the most."

Haruto

intently stares at you as you belt out a ballad on your karaoke date. poor Haruto was expecting lots of voice cracks and high-pitches chaos from you, but you slay the song and win Haruto's heart (even though his heart has already been yours for a while??). his eyes are full of love and adoration as he clutches the mic he's holding. when you're done singing, he gets all giggly and claps excitedly, telling you how you're a match made in heaven because he's the one with the deep voice and you're the one who can hit all the high notes. like Hyunsuk, starts imagining the two of you as a rapper-singer duo. also uses your singing abilities to his own advantage, so watch out T.T

"no, y/n. i'm not going on a date with you unless you sing to me."

Jeongwoo

*flips his nonexistent long hair into your face*. Jeongwoo would be a lil pouty and sassy now that you're lowkey his competition? 'cause he thought he could use his vocals to his advantage to win you over (which he kinda already did but :P) but you can sing, too, so what's the point?? you can tell it bothers him when you sing to him one day, and you have to remind him that he's the Park Jeongwoo and just because you sing well, that doesn't mean he doesn't! he'll cheer up when you ask him to do a duet with you for his favourite song, and gets all excited trying to figure out the harmonies and which parts all of you will sing. he'll love you and your voice, don't you worry ;) he'll use it to brag to everyone that you're a power couple!

"okay, y/n. we're both sexy and we both sing. aren't we the coolest?"

Junghwan

PLS THIS GIF HHH like Jeongwoo, lowkey worried that you're coming for his whole career T.T then, he decides it's fine cause he's a whole visual. BUT THEN REALIZES ur literally a visual too ? and has a whole mental breakdown T.T you have to comfort him and help him calm down... and when he gets over himself, he's just so excited and inlove with you? every time you sing around him from that day on, he'll smile pleasantly and give you a tight hug. he'll really love singing together with you, and will ask you for advice about singing, too. Junghwan is just amazed by how you're so perfect... please stop stealing his heart <//3 he is so WHIPPED FOR YOU

"nice vocals, y/n. it's even better than mine, haha! at least i look good! wait... so do you. uhhhhh......"

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bluwails · 4 years ago

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Ive been real inspired by @chipper-smol 's au. I find myself snickering at Ghost/feral's antic mainly because I have young siblings and in my home there is never a dull moment. Child antics are literally my life rn and I cant help but relate.

So while on a nostalgic trip i was struck with this poorly written fic. And I hope you enjoy.

No edits because we die like men!

The time for rest had asserted its hold over Hallownest again as bugs wound down from the days toils. The servants and knights had quietly excused themselves to their personal quarters and the kingsmoulds that marched dutifully down each hall had slowed to a silent pace.

The white Lady had taken in the idea to walk the palace before retiring to her personal quarters for the evening. Dryya, her most respected and loyal guard, walked quietly behind her as she stiffled a yawn much to the white lady's amusement. She had dismissed her hours ago to rest but she stubbornly stuck to her and insisted on being around to protect her on her leisurely stroll.

" Your majesty, you need not worry for me. I will-" Dryya gaped stiffling another sign of encroaching sleepiness," -be with you until you retire to your bedroom."

She still felt fascination bubble under the surface as she observed her; a warm aura seeping off of her.

As a higher being they will never need these things like rest or daily meals. But they merely adopted the actions to blend more with the society around them. Just like her dear wyrm, Things like sleep were never on the forefront of their mind. They could spend decades awake and unbothered by the need. But they made resting a habit to demonstrate that one should rest after work.

Shuffling down the halls toward her favorite veranda befor she heard an unfamiliar scuffling. It was hurried but small. Most likely a small bug.

"Behind me your majesty." Dryya hissed pulling her nail from her side her alert instantly raised. As late as it was not many would be awake, much less in the halls working so fervently.

As they turned the corner they spotted two familiar horns working quickly with a brush and bottles of ink.

It was the feral vessel.

" You cheeky Sqwib! " she screamed shocking the little vessel. Their small hand dropping the brush they'd use to vandalize the walls. "You are at it again!" Dryya huffed indignant at the vessel as she marched over, sheathing her nail, and quickly bonking them between the horns.

" Do you know how you terrified the Queen?" She growled seizing their ink colored hands. " and to top that, you dare vandalize the white palace yet again!"

"Dear knight, there is no reason to be so harsh. " the white Lady softly appealed. "The walls can be cleaned and the ink replaced but the trust from a child cannot." She calmly lectured using a branch to pet the vessel.

"You are to lenient with them my lady." She huffed releasing them. Dryya was no fan of the feral vessel. Time and time again they'd watch and suffer their pranks. Many a time her nail was stolen only for it to be returned muddy or, miraculously, bent at the tip.

She was not the only one of the five knights to have their belongings weaseled from them and returned in less then favorable conditions.

"They are just being a child Dryya." WL cooed as she slowly squatted in front of them. "Soften your heart towards them. If only for me."

The knight reluctantly huffed again as she faced away. "Praise the Queen's endless patience, you little tyrant, you are saved for now. "

The white Lady smiled warmly as she looked the small vessel over. At this time they were meant to be tucked away in bed. The schedule their father made, though strict was optimize for their healthy growth. She suspected in full that the pure vessel had curled themselves into bed without a second thought, while their sibling ran through the halls causing their daily commotion.

In all honesty, she found their outbursts charming. Each trick, prank and shenanigan they pulled continuously showed her how lively they truly were. When they'd arrived from the abyss with their sibling, she lamented at their sight. Seeing them as nothing more than walking corpses until she heard of what would honestly sound like a farce. They'd barely stepped foot into the white palace before they entered a meeting between the dreamers, with no command or reason, and unleashed the most ungodly revolting smell. Shocking and disgusting the entire gathering forcing them to vacate the room entirely.

When her wyrm ranted about them that evening on how they indignantly, stomping their tiny grub feet and blantly ignoring him, forced them to clean the entire room alongside the retainers as punishment she could not help but laugh in an odd mix of relief and joy releasing a knot in her chest she did not know she held.

Looking again to the picture on the wall it was of clearly her dear wyrm. Her giggle chimming like bells as she observed it further. It was simple and childish as but it was an accurate representation of her wyrm. His elegant crown like horns now simple zigzags, their fangs drawn large and silly, with their tongue poked out in a not very gentlemen manner. (She suspects this is how they saw their father when they ranted at them.) It was crude, hurriedly painted, and was encompassed by tiny hand marks and had all the makings of a goofy Caricature and she wished she could save it.

"I see the throws of art beckoned you from your deep sleep small one." knowing full well they did it to mess with the king again. "maybe we should have Lurien tutor you to bring out your talents?" She questioned aloud watching the vessel furiously shake their head from the corner of their eye.

"Then what brings you from bed?"

The child twisted at their fingers looking down as they snuck peeks at her face.

They signed quickly keeping their ink covered hands slightly in sight. But It obvious it was something else. It was no news to her that they held many things back from them. And the curiosity of what it could be danced in the back of her mind, but she refused to force them anymore than they'd allow.

"You know you require rest in order to grow." She purred gently as she angled her small one's mask toward her.

Their mask tilted in a way that mimicked a pouty huff. Her heart swelling at how cute they were. She could not help but poke a small amount of fun.

"So you do not wish to grow anymore?" She questioned exaggeratedly tilting her head and placing a branch to her cheek.

They seemed to freeze at the and mull the thought around in their head. To her, this was the sweetest gesture. She'd remembered when the two vessels first molted and got their bearings. Though they thought no one was watching, she caught them do a small jig in celebration of their new body. Wiggling their newly formed fingers, touching their more angled faces and observing their budding wings.

" I'd say you'd want to." She whispered calmly retrieving her handkerchief to clean them.

"How can one so small hold such large secrets?" She hummed wiping the pink ink from them.

The vessel signed, a cheeky air to them as they flexed their arms nearly rupturing her heart from cuteness alone.

"Dryya please get someone to assist in cleaning up. " with a bow Dryya reluctantly left grumbling to herself.

"Now as much as I would love for you and to stay up and get into all kinds of mischief. I would say its time for bed. " She cooed admiring their clean face.

The vessel gestured again with more emphasis.

"I see." She hmmed making a show of thinking of what to do. In reality she had an idea of what to do. Somewhere deep in her memory was a song that. She could not remember the face that sang it to her but she remembers it working nearly every time. Ushering her to sleep. "Then would you care to accompany me on the veranda?" She asked pointing to the large glass door not far behind them.

Nodding they streched their arms up towards her. Obligating the gesture she swept them up in her branches as she walked slowly to the door.

she allowed small blooms to bloom on her creating a pleasant perfume before sitting on her stool already set up outside.

The vessel signed again gesturing at themselves.

Chuckling she squeezed them close to her. "Not essentially. You are of two pale beings and void." She murred quietly; her light warming them as they sunk into her lap. "You don't really need sleep. But its good because it helps you grow." She hummed wrapping her branches around them.

They gestured wildly again wiggling their fingers above their head causing her to erupted in laughter.

"Yes." She snickered "maybe if my wyrm slept and rested more they would grow as well I will be sure to suggest it to them later." Feeling the small ones shoulders shake in signs of laughter she hugged them.

" you remind me much of him in his younger years." She thought aloud as the vessel shook their head furiously. " well the both of you refuse to sleep on time so I imagine you two are similar in that sense." She mused as the small threw a small tantrum.

"Very well, shall I sing you something to assist you to sleep?" They nodded sinking back into her lap, placing their head on her chest.

As they sat, staring out into the lush garden and flickering lumaflies below she hummed a quiet tone shutting her eyes calling upon the memory.

Her branch rubbing small circles into their child's back as her voice trilled lyrics long thought lost to her:

Lay down your head and I'll sing you a lullaby

Back to the years of loo-li lai-lay

And I'll sing you to sleep and I'll sing you tomorrow

Bless you with love for the road that you go

May you sail far to the far fields of fortune

With diamonds and pearls at your head and your feet

And may you need never to banish misfortune

May you find kindness in all that you meet

May there always be angels to watch over you

To guide you each step of the way

To guard you and keep you safe from all harm

Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay

May you bring love and may you bring happiness

Be loved in return to the end of your days

Now fall off to sleep, I'm not meaning to keep you

I'll just sit for a while and sing loo-li, lai-lay

May there always be angels to watch over you

To guide you each step of the way

To guard you and keep you safe from all harm

Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay, loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay

Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay

Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li lai-lay

Loo-li, lai-lay

Only the soft breathing and the feeling their body relax and their shoulders ease indicated they drifted off.

"Sweet dreams my small one."

Thanks so much for reading. In all honesty i have only played hollowknight for about a month and half and im already so invested in the fandom. (I'm still getting my butt handed to me by ogrim. Please dungy boi stop throwing sh!t at me long enough so i can hit you. You broke all my fragile charms alreday!-🥺😢) You guys are so creative and fluffy and have no problem hurting my tender sensibilities.

For those curious the song is called sleepsong by secret garden. I used to listen to it ages ago before bed.

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bruhstories · 4 years ago

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Baby, I’ve Already got Your Heart

Summary: An accidental meeting between Armin and Y/N leads to an unhealthy obsession. Pairing: Armin Arlert x Fem!Reader (modern AU) Warnings: stalking, language, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), oral sex (female receiving), switch!Reader, switch!Armin, rope is involved. Word Count: 2.5 k

A/N: This fic is heavily inspired by this song. It is surprisingly wholesome, considering the tags xD

Armin Arlert. The purest man in the world. You accidentally met him one cold, rainy day when he entered your coffee shop for shelter and warmth. He naively talked to you, grateful for how nice you were with him, grateful for the cappuccino on the house, grateful for the towel you offered him to dry himself off. Little did Armin know, a fixation sprouted in your mind and heart, developing into the unhealthiest obsession. He was just so cute — and you just had to have him. It helped to know that you were both going to the same university, and after that, you knew everything about him: his Facebook, Instagram, email address, hell, you even knew his real address. To be fair, it was a piece of cake, the boy was absolutely clueless and whenever he 'accidentally' met you, he thought it was by pure chance. The next and most obvious step was to befriend people in his social circle, one Jean Kirstein, one Sasha Braus and one Connie Springer. Naturally, you did your homework, and you knew his best friends were Eren Jaeger and Mikasa Ackerman, but they weren't easy targets. Besides, it would jeopardise your entire plan, as you found Armin was considered a genius. An oblivious genius. He didn't know it yet, but you loved him and he loved you too, right?

A text from Sasha, months after you first met the angelic man, set your plan in motion. A casual gaming night at Armin's place, and you were invited. How perfect. Poor glutton Sasha had no fucking clue how much you were using her, how you told her you want to meet a cute guy, someone nice and caring, someone smart and attentive. The girl put two and two together and decided she just had to introduce you to one of her friends, especially that he was also interested in meeting a girl like you. Unbelievable — you acted surprised, met up with Sasha and left for Armin's little gaming night. You wouldn't let this opportunity go to waste. Starting from tonight, he'd be yours. Forever.

"Armiiiiiiiiin, I brought a plus one!" Sasha barged into his house. "This is my friend, Y/N. Y/N, Armin! Oh shit, pretzels!" The brown-haired woman left the two of you in the hallway and the blond flashed you a smile.

"I feel like I've seen you before." He mused as he closed the door behind you.

"If you ever drink coffee at Rose's you might've seen me there." You smiled and removed your leather jacket, revealing a Pearl Jam t-shirt.

"No way you listen to them!" Armin blurted.

"Are you kidding me? They're my favourite!" You lied through your teeth with a sickly-sweet smile.

"Mine too! Oh, I know, you're the girl who gave me a free cappuccino months ago!"

"I remember! You were drenched in rainwater." You laughed as the two of you entered the living room. "I had to mop up the puddles you left behind."

"I'm so sorry about that..." He blushed. Your heart fluttered and you couldn't wait to get your hands on him, but for the time being, you needed to behave.

"No worries, I just hope you didn't catch a cold." You assured Armin and sympathetically placed a hand on his shoulder. There he goes, blushing again. It couldn't be... was he a virgin? Fuck. This was better than you could've imagined.

"Who's this?"

"Oh, Mikasa, Eren, this is Y/N. She's friends with Sasha."

"Nice to meet you!" Eren shook your hand. "Oh, God, you listen to Pearl Jam, too? You nerds are going to get along just fine." He joked.

The night went great, and you actually had fun with Armin and his friends, despite not intending to mingle with them too much. People started leaving around 2 am, but Eren and Mikasa stayed longer. Too fucking long — and things were boring now anyway. You and Armin kept talking about video games and books, Mikasa fell asleep on Eren who was playing fucking Farmville on his phone. They had to leave as soon as possible.

"Hey, Y/N, we can take you home." Eren suggested and you froze. Shit.

"Didn't you say you're almost out of gas?" Armin questioned his friend.

"Ah, fuck, you're right. I still don't know how that happened — I fuelled the tank yesterday!" The brunette scoffed. "Guess you're on your own, Y/N."

"It's alright, I'll take an uber." You politely smiled.

"Alright, we'll wait for you."

Oh, for fuck's sake. Truth be told, you appreciated how nice and caring Armin's friends were, but you had a different goal to accomplish.

"You really don't have to, plus I have to use the bathroom." You excused yourself. "Um, where is the bathroom exactly?"

"Upstairs, first door on the right." Armin told you while gathering plates and cups from the table. You nodded and climbed up the stairs. Your hand hovered over the bathroom doorknob for a good minute, eyes drifting to the door next to it. Armin's bedroom, by the looks of it. Surely, you could take a look, right? Fuck it. You opened the second door and at first glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. LED and fairy lights encircled a corner of his room and, curiously, you walked closer to see what that was, because it didn't look like a desk. Your Y/E/C widened when you saw tens of framed photographs of yourself on the square table, objects you thought you lost and — Jesus, was that your bra? A rush of anxiety hit you, but before you could do anything, a blow to your head blurred your vision.

•°☆°•☆•°☆°•

Dark lashes fluttered as you opened your eyes. The sudden realisation that you were naked and restrained to a bed made you jolt. What just happened?

"Fucking finally, I thought you'd never wake up." Armin greeted you, but his voice was different, deeper and darker.

"Ar-ugh, Armin?" You groaned at the stinging sensation at the back of your head.

"You know, I was relieved you didn't leave with Sasha, otherwise you would've slipped between my fingers again."

Again?

"Ugh, and Eren and his stupid idea. 'We'll take you home.'" He mocked his best friend with a high pitch. "I've been dreaming for this moment since I walked into that shitty coffee shop."

You were at a loss for words. This was not the Armin you fantasised about, not the Armin you wanted. He was much more and much worse. And. So. Much. Better.

Alright then, you'd put up a show for him.

"P-please, Armin, please untie m-me! I'll be good, I p-promise!" You stuttered and whimpered, trying your best to sound genuine.

"Why, so you can run away?" The blond scoffed. So, he didn't know you stalked him. What a twist.

"I won't r-run, I swear!"

"Bullshit." Armin bent over your body, hands around your neck. You gasped and pretended to be startled by his touch, but in reality, your core was already burning with lust. You knew you couldn't keep up with this charade. "No, Y/N, I won't untie you. But we'll have so much fun." He sneered.

"You promise?"

"Yes. Wait—"

Your laughter filled the bedroom, genuine laughter that baffled Armin. Was this some sort of reverse psychology trick?

"Oh, Armin, even when you reveal your true colours, you're still oblivious to the reality of what's in front of you."

"Then enlighten me, what am I so oblivious to?" He folded his arms across his chest and waited.

"The fact that this was my fucking plan, too." You stretched as much as your restraints allowed you to and licked your lips. "I guess we both stalked each other without even knowing. How ridiculous."

"I think I would've known if you stalked me, Y/N."

"Really? Let me prove it, then. Your favourite food's Carbonara pasta, your favourite drink is peach and lychee iced tea, favourite movie is Interstellar, you lived on Sheena street until you were 12–"

"That's common knowledge, Sasha could've told you any of that." Armin blurted, growing impatient.

"You watch BDSM and asphyxiation porn between 10 pm and 11 pm every Tuesday, you're a virgin, you own a fleshlight–"

"Fuck, alright!" He threw his hands in the air, defeated. "So, what next?"

"You untie me and you tear me apart, Armin, that's what's next."

The blond hesitated before removing the cuffs on your ankles, still unsure about the ropes around your wrists. Clearly, you weren't making things up, but what were the chances of both of you stalking each other? For a brief moment, Armin felt guilty for hitting you and practically holding you captive, and you could see that on his face, but obsession and desire soon took over, and he reverted back to his darker self. His soft hands moved from your ankles to your knees, up your thighs and stomach, stopping above your chest, deciding it's best if you're not fully free. Armin licked his lips and climbed on top of you, unbuttoning his flannel shirt. You thought was surprisingly strong for such a thin man, but when the unbuttoned shirt revealed his chiselled abdomen, it made sense why he was strong.

"The wrists, Armin." You insisted but the blond clicked his tongue.

"I like you better when you're helpless." He pressed his lips onto yours in a hot kiss. A great kiss, you thought, your tongues wrestling for supremacy.

"Please, I want to touch you! I need to..." You trailed off, intoxicated by his smell, notes of saffron and cardamom. His hands roamed your shoulders, tickling your axilla and groping your breasts. "Please let me touch you, Armin!" You begged again, but he didn't say a word, his hot breath fanning over your oversensitive nipples, goosebumps all over your skin. His pink tongue poked out of his mouth and you watched him painstakingly slowly lick one of your nipples. It literally pained you to be unable to touch him, pull him closer to you. Alas, you had no choice, and despite yearning to be in control, it aroused you to have him control you.

"You smell so sweet." He abruptly stopped. "I bet you taste sweet, too."

"Armin..." His words made you brace yourself. While you weren't a virgin, you've never had anyone eat you out. The blond was already in between your legs, one hand resting under your thigh, the other gently touching your slick folds. Armin was so careful, like you were made of glass, and the ticklish sensation didn't help you at all. You wanted him to ram his cock inside of you and rearrange your guts, but he wanted to take his sweet time. The teasing only made you dizzy with pleasure, and you bucked your hips, trying to get him to move faster.

"You really need to learn to be patient, Y/N." Armin purred, pressing gentle kisses on your thighs. He lazily dragged his tongue across your slit, electricity shooting through your body. God, how you wanted to rip those ropes apart. Two fingers entered you and the blond gingerly licked your clit.

"Fuck– so... so good ah–" You couldn't form a sentence even if your life counted on it. Gradually, you could feel your orgasm building up and Armin sensed it, picking up the pace. His fingers thrusted harder and you arched your back, the intensity too much for you. "Armin, please! I wanna come with your cock in me!" The begging didn't stop him, he was determined to make you finish then and there. And he did — within seconds you melted under his touch, legs trembling with pleasure. Armin pulled back, his mouth messy with saliva mixed with your juices.

"You come when I want you to come." His voice was low, almost like a growl. He unbuttoned his jeans, and you watched him like a hawk, waiting to see just how big his was, and you were not disappointed.

"Please please please let me suck it, please!" You begged him, eager to taste him. He smirked and kissed you, all the while rubbing his cock.

"You want this?" Armin quirked a brow at you. The little shit, jacking off in front of you and you couldn't even do anything about it.

"Armin..."

"Say it. Say you want it."

"Armin!"

"Say it, Y/N." He groaned, precum leaking from his member. Fuck.

"I... I want it..." You eventually gave up.

"Good girl." The blond climbed back on top of you. He raised your hips and you placed your legs on his shoulder, his first thrust slow and deep. Armin couldn't help the moan escaping his lips — this was so much better than that shitty fleshlight and countless porn videos. You couldn't deny the fact that it hurt, despite your soaking cunt, but you quickly adjusted to his size. As Armin pounded you, the bed underneath the two of you started moving and screeching, and the ropes tied to the metal bedframe loosened and you felt your arms fall onto the pillows. In his frenzy, the blond didn't notice, so you took this opportunity to lower your legs and wrap them around his waist, one hand grabbing his soft locks, the other wrapping around his neck. You used his weight against him and turned him over. You were in control.

Armin was taken aback by this, but the feeling of your fingers squeezing his throat only turned him on more. You bounced up and down, throwing your head back and groaning. He gripped your hips tightly, thrusting his own hips against yours.

"F-fuck me harder, Y/N!" He begged and you sped up. You felt like a queen — no, a goddess — when he asked you to fuck him, the feeling of him inside of you so addictive. He was your drug, and your rehab, your poison, and your antidote. And you were his and his only. His cock was twitching in your cunt and knew he was close but you didn't want to risk it. Swiftly, you got off of him and wrapped your lips around his dick, bobbing your head up and down. It didn't take long for him to finish, hot liquid shooting down your throat with one final grunt. You swallowed it all and threw yourself next to him. It was breaking dawn already, but you weren't tired. Physically, yes, both of you were exhausted, but mentally it felt like you discovered a hidden gem.

"What the fuck did we just do?" Armin calmly caressed your hair as you nuzzled his neck.

"Are we talking about the obsessively stalking each other part or the part where you hit me in the head? Or the fucking?"

"The everything." He explained. "This is wrong."

"Did it feel wrong?" You asked him, your fingers idly tracing circles over his chest.

"Well, no..."

"Then it's not wrong." You shrugged. "Am... am I yours?"

"Yes." The blond instantly replied without a trace of hesitation in his voice. "Am I?"

"You've been mine the moment you set foot in that shitty coffee shop." You laughed.

"And what are we going to tell the others?"

"That we ended up talking all night and I stayed over?"

"Sounds like a plan." Armin kissed your forehead.

"By the way, I really don't like Pearl Jam." You admitted.

He laughed and it filled your heart with warmth. You have no idea why you and Armin were like that, or how things would be from now on, but you had a good feeling about it. Things were okay. You two were okay.

#armin arlert x reader #armin x reader #snk smut #snk x reader #shingeki no kyoujin #armin arlert smut #aot smut #aot x reader #attack on titan #armin arlert

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une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir · 4 years ago

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random thoughts about aegon vi and septa lemore

Apparently, it’s Aegon’s week. i don’t think i ever paticipated in these events for any character or pairing, but @agentrouka-blog’s theory that septa Lemore is Ashara Dayne and that the baby switch was between Aegon and her rumoured child (instead of random kid) showed up on my dash today.

Lemore being Ashara Dayne and there having been baby switch like theorised would be fantastic, because she’d know a lot of stuff that is otherwise impossible to know. She knows who dishonoured her at Harrenhal (we all know Brandon, not Ned). She knows about Wylla, a wetnurse from the Dayne Household, who Eddard Stark and Edric Dayne both say is Jon’s mother (we all know Jon is Lyanna’s, so this apparent lie version being told by two different people who have nothing to do with one another seems to suggest a combined lie between Ned and the Daynes). She knows about Jon because Ned went to Starfall with him and (if baby switch theory is true), she can confirm Aegon VI is real.

There’s also the suspicious narrative choice of a “Targ” (not even, she has dark hair, not silver hair, even if she has purple eyes) getting with an impetuous Stark at Harrenhal and a secret child never really going anywhere. What’s the point of that besides shading Rhaegar plus Lyanna equals Jon? This I always thought was suspicious, but this theory would *poof* make it make sense.

TYRION III ~ ADWD

This is the chapter where Aegon VI Targaryen is first introduced. The whole chapter is like a “perigrination” to find him. I am of the opinion that Aegon VI is the real thing for a long time now and there’s evidence that might be the case in this very chapter where he’s introduced.

"How fares our lad?" asked Illyrio as the chests were being secured. Tyrion counted six, oaken chests with iron hasps. Duck shifted them easily enough, hoisting them on one shoulder.

This is shortly after the chapter starts. Not only Illyrio asks about Aegon, there’s also the imagery of six chests about. If Aegon is crowned king of Westeros, he’ll be Aegon VI Targaryen.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++

"There is a gift for the boy in one of the chests. Some candied ginger. He was always fond of it." Illyrio sounded oddly sad.

This is often used as a clue that Aegon VI is fake. Illyrio is expressing some sentimental attachment, so there are theories that he could be the father and the mother would be some Valyrian looking wife he has. it has its merits.

On the other hand, Aegon VI is on the run from the crown, hiding under a false identity and dyes his hair another colour, but most importantly in this passage, is Aegon’s fond of a specific sweet that what we would at first mistake for a father for the reasons pointed above gifts him with.

This is 1:1 what’s going on with Sansa, she’s on the run from the crown, hiding under a false identity and dyes her hair another colour, she’s fond of a specific sweet (lemoncakes) and Littlefinger, who’s pretending to be her father and is very... emotionally invested... in her, gifts her with some (well, in parternship with her cousin, but the cousin is another matter).

By parallel, Aegon is real.++

Tyrion craned his head to one side, and saw a boy standing on the roof of a low wooden building, waving a wide-brimmed straw hat. He was a lithe and well-made youth, with a lanky build and a shock of dark blue hair.

Aegon is inrroduced standing above the rest, literally high-standing.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++

An older couple with a Rhoynish cast to their features stood close beside the tiller, whilst a handsome septa in a soft white robe stepped through the cabin door and pushed a lock of dark brown hair from her eyes.

This is actually what I came for, Lemore.

Why a septa would be described as “handsome” when that should have no relevance since she’s supposed to be chaste (I know, it’s Tyrion, but still)? Ashara Dayne is described by many as being beautiful, arrestingly so. If Lemore is Ashara, “handsome” is a good way to describe her beauty still.

Lemore has dark brown hair. Ashara is described as having long dark hair tumbling about her shoulders. More importantly, Lemore's first actions is push her hair from her eyes. Like, pay attention to this woman’s eyes, even though they’re not described ever (not even their colour).

TYRION IV ~ ADWD

Tyrion had drunk himself blind his first night on the Shy Maid. The next day he awoke with dragons fighting in his skull.

So yes, the night after Tyrion meets Aegon and his party for the first time, he dreams of dragons fighting. Take note these are dragons, not a fake dragon in whatever way and a dragon.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++.

The clouds in the sky were aglow: pink and purple, maroon and gold, pearl and saffron. One looked like a dragon. Once a man has seen a dragon in flight, let him stay at home and tend his garden in content, someone had written once, for this wide world has no greater wonder. Tyrion scratched at his scar and tried to recall the author's name. Dragons had been much in his thoughts of late.

One of those clouds looks like a dragon. There’s no dragons with these colours BUT Targs have purple eyes and Viseryion, a dragon I believe is a narrative stand-in for Aegon VI, is described as cream and gold, so one colour here. Honestly, the important here is that Tyrion is associating dragons around Aegon.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++.

"Good morrow, Hugor." Septa Lemore had emerged in her white robes, cinched at the waist with a woven belt of seven colors. Her hair flowed loose about her shoulders. "How did you sleep?"

Holy shit.

“Even after all these years, Ser Barristan could still recall Ashara's smile, the sound of her laughter. He had only to close his eyes to see her, with her long dark hair tumbling about her shoulders and those haunting purple eyes.

"Fitfully, good lady. I dreamed of you again." A waking dream. He could not sleep, so he had eased a hand between his legs and imagined the septa atop him, breasts bouncing.

"A wicked dream, no doubt. You are a wicked man. Will you pray with me and ask forgiveness for your sins?"

Only if we pray in the fashion of the Summer Isles. "No, but do give the Maiden a long, sweet kiss for me."

Laughing, the septa walked to the prow of the boat. It was her custom to bathe in the river every morning.

"Plainly, this boat was not named for you," Tyrion called as she disrobed.

"The Mother and the Father made us in their image, Hugor. We should glory in our bodies, for they are the work of gods."

Yeah, it’s Tyrion, who’d sexualise a rock, but this is a septa who deserves respect. Yet, this is how the writer “paints” the reader’s first interaction with this new character. These are always the most striking moments when establishing a character and sex imagery is what the writer decided to do.

Also Lemore not only knows that Tyrion’s fantasising about having sex with her and doesn’t give a shit, she laughs instead, gets naked to bathe, and doesn’t give a shit if others look at her naked body. This doesn’t feel like a septa. I mean, I remember Mordane and the zealots at King’s Landing who screwed with Cersei. They have nothing on this.

The way she puts why she has no problems with naked bodies and the like also suggest some kind of “free spirit” which goes well with the (disgusting, but there) dornish wanton woman trope and being dishonoured by Brandon at Harrenhal.

Another thing to note, is that Tyrion also clearly says the “Shy Maid” wasn’t named after Lemore, which suggests she’s neither shy nor a maid. This is confirmed by her actions and by...

The dwarf watched Lemore slip into the water. The sight always made him hard. There was something wonderfully wicked about the thought of peeling the septa out of those chaste white robes and spreading her legs. Innocence despoiled, he thought … though Lemore was not near as innocent as she appeared. She had stretch marks on her belly that could only have come from childbirth.

Lemore was pregnant at one point!

When Lemore climbed back onto the deck, Tyrion savored the sight of water trickling between her breasts, her smooth skin glowing golden in the morning light. She was past forty, more handsome than pretty, but still easy on the eye. Being randy is the next best thing to being drunk, he decided. It made him feel as if he was still alive. "Did you see the turtle, Hugor?" the septa asked him, wringing water from her hair. "The big ridgeback?"

This disparity of behaviour between septa Lemore and any other septa in ASOIAF is VERY suspicious. Note how Lemore has two mysteries about her already, she’s characterised nothing like any septa in ASOIAF (more like the tasteless “dornish wanton woman” sterotype instead) and a mystery child. What’s the point of that, if she’s irrelevant.

Compare how he Yandry and Ysilla couple is treated, where there are no bizarre things taking place that I noticed. Also Yandry and Ysilla are specifically said to be a pair of Dornish orphans. Why is the image of Dornish people here, along with Lemore? Suspicious, suspicious.

Lemore is “past fourty”. The asoiaf wiki lists Ashara Dayne as being born between 260AC and 269AC, which means that she’d be around this age if she had lived.

The imagery of a (false, but still) maidtaking a bath while men watch is the same as Florian and Jonquil song, an event that legend says happened at Maidenpool (close to... yes, that’s right, Harrenhal, where Ashara met Brandon).

"The turtles have their charms, I will allow. Nothing delights me so much as the sight of a nice pair of shapely … shells.

"Septa Lemore laughed. Like everyone else aboard the Shy Maid, she had her secrets. She was welcome to them. I do not want to know her, I only want to fuck her. She knew it too. As she hung her septa's crystal about her neck, to nestle in the cleft between her breasts, she teased him with a smile.

That’s not the behaviour of a septa and note the narrative acknowledgement that Lemore has secrets. She’s also called Lady instead of septa at some point in the narrative.

If this is Ashara, then Brandon met his match at Harrenhal. The waste, I can’t. What a sexy couple.

This chapter also contains Targ history as well as some Dorne (mother Rhoyne and whatnot). It goes well with Aegon is the real deal. But what really cinches it is the ending...

"It was him," cried Yandry. "The Old Man of the River."And why not?

Tyrion grinned. Gods and wonders always appear, to attend the birth of kings.

The Old Man of the River is a lesser god, the son of Mother Rhoyne. These gods are all associated with Dorne.

Aegon is real.++.

Tyrion VI ~ ADWD

"Even the bravest of your forebears kept his Kingsguard close about him in times of peril." Lemore had changed out of her septa's robes into garb more befitting the wife or daughter of a prosperous merchant. Tyrion watched her closely. He had sniffed out the truth beneath the dyed blue hair of Griff and Young Griff easily enough, and Yandry and Ysilla seemed to be no more than they claimed to be, whilst Duck was somewhat less. Lemore, though … Who is she, really? Why is she here? Not for gold, I'd judge. What is this prince to her? Was she ever a true septa?

Who is she, really... indeed... Lemore’s identity clearly is important.

She turned back to Prince Aegon. "You are not the only one who must needs hide."

Why does Lemore need to hide? :)

#asoiaf speculaion #i'm not going to tag these characters because the original theory isn't mine #i'm also not going to tag these characters because this isn't enough to warrant an entry on aegon vi targaryen week

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officialsporkintheroad · 3 years ago

Note

here’s a prompt :) — tom and hermione dance at the yule ball. tom comes to terms w/ his feelings for hermione but does not confess right away. the next morning, she is gone (she went back to her own timeline). he wants to find answers.

(A/N: I know it's been literally months, but I finally got around to this prompt and I had so much fun writing a little snippet for it. Hope you like it, love, and thank you so much for sending in the prompt <3 )

warnings: brief violent/murderous thoughts, toxic relationships, possessive behavior, Tom being a little bit of a creep in general

The whole ordeal is tedious.

All parties, in Tom’s opinion, possess a certain dullness that seems utterly inescapable once you reach a certain point in society, and while the Yule Ball is a school function—and therefore not quite on the same level as, say, the Malfoy’s annual Yule party or even Slughorn’s more exclusive events—it’s still burdened by the same rules of propriety and small talk that Tom loathes.

Therefore, tedious.

Made worse, still, by the fact that Hermione Granger is floating around the dancefloor in a pale blue, satin gown that flatters her lithe body and delicate curves, her riotous hair half-pinned up, pearls peeking out between the wild curls. In the silvery atmospheric lighting, she looks ethereal, an otherworldliness that suits her bizarre personality. She is not the most graceful dancer nor the most practiced, but there’s always a confidence to Hermione that seems almost daring, as if to say, “My faults are irrelevant in the face of my accomplishments.”

And she is accomplished, Tom will admit that now. Four months of watching her breeze through classes, mastering spells on the first try and giving him a run for his money with her theory work. He has seen her do things that he had previously only thought himself capable of, has watched her match him wit for wit, barb for barb.

She is the only woman—the only person—that comes even close to being his equal, and yes, he had resisted that at first, but now…

But now, he can’t stand the thought of her dancing with anyone but him.

His feet are moving before he’s even really finished the thought, slipping through the crowd of dancing couples with ease as he makes his way to her. She sees him, of course, because no matter how hard Tom has tried, it seems like Hermione always sees him—or more specifically, sees through him. Her eyes—caramel brown, thick lashes, wary and angry and curious all at once—narrow, but she doesn’t stop him when he taps on the shoulder of her current partner and asks to cut in.

The boy pales a bit, throws Hermione an apologetic smile, and bows out. It’s nice, Tom thinks, how even now, with few knowing even half of what he’s truly capable of, there’s still an understanding that when Tom Riddle asks for something, he’s not really asking.

“You’ve given poor Adrian a heart attack,” Hermione comments idly, casually, like it’s just an observation and she couldn’t care less. He isn’t fooled into a false sense of security—they have been playing this back-and-forth for months now, and he knows her anger is always ready, always burning just beneath the surface—but admittedly, he enjoys it too much to ever back down.

“Perhaps you should have acquired a date that doesn’t startle so easily,” he muses, enjoying the subtle twitch of her jaw.

“Perhaps you should learn to wait until the next song to ask for a dance. I hear patience is a virtue.”

It burns, a little, that she’s right. He could have waited for the song to end, waited to approach her during the lull in music. It would have caused less of a scene, certainly. Would have seemed more gentlemanly, less…desperate.

But then, it hadn’t really been a conscious choice in the first place.

“And you could have refused,” he tosses back, because he’s petty and it’s true anyway.

The pause that follows is one that Tom doesn’t expect. What he expects is for her to push back, snarl some insult about Tom being childish and greedy, or snark that she could never dare to refuse the great Tom Riddle—all said with the heaviest, driest sarcasm he’s ever heard in his life. Instead, she sighs.

“I’m tired of fighting useless battles,” she says, and there’s something so bitter and sad and…and tired in her voice that it makes him stare. Because she’s definitely not just talking about the dance he stole from her.

Because maybe… Maybe, despite all the anger and derision and sheer viciousness that has tainted their every interaction since she arrived the beginning of September, maybe she, too, feels that he has worn her down in the way that she has done with him.

It is not love—Tom is absolutely certain of that—but it is something startlingly closer to it than Tom ever imagined he’d feel: a sort of raw possessiveness over her that pisses him off nearly as much as it gratifies him, an understanding that she is likely the only person alive that could ever satisfy him on an intellectual level, and the only person he has ever wanted like this, even if he’s half tempted some days to strangle her and throw her carcass down in the Chamber so no one finds the body.

It is strangely compelling that he can see hints of that same violent and conflicting desire in her.

When the song ends, she disappears into the crowd and Tom lets her go. After all, he doesn’t need to chase after something that is already halfway his.

*****************************************

Hermione is not at breakfast. She is not part of the group of students that Tom escorts to the train platform, and she is not at lunch when he returns. He asks the Ravenclaw 5th year prefect if he’s seen her, checks in at the Hospital Wing, and finally ends up at the library—where, truthfully, he really expects her to be.

The library is empty.

Almost.

“She’s not here,” a voice says, and Tom stiffens at the sound, an automatic response he can’t control no matter how he tries.

Dumbledore, always poking his nose in where it’s not wanted.

“Sir?”

“Miss Granger left this morning.”

Tom frowns, because he knows she didn’t get on the train, and the deputy headmaster must realize this because he sighs.

“She returned home, Tom.”

“Home,” he repeats flatly, because Dumbledore is lying. He’s sure of it.

Because Hermione doesn’t have a home to go back to. She told him as much—parents dead, all her distant family either deceased or estranged, and even if she could get in touch with them, none of them wanted to take in a war orphan. She was alone and lost when she came to Hogwarts. She can’t have gone home, because Hogwarts is home. For her, and for him.

“Miss Granger was only here on a temporary basis, Tom. You know that,” Dumbledore is saying. “Arrangements have been made with her mother’s cousins in America…”

That’s around the time Tom stops listening. It’s all bullshit, every word. It’s funny. As much as Dumbledore has always managed to know when Tom’s up to something, it goes both ways. It always has.

“I see,” Tom says eventually. “I…am sorry I wasn’t there to wish her off. We had been getting on better these past few weeks. You don’t happen to have an address for her, do you? I’d like to write her, if I can.”

“Ah, unfortunately not, my boy. Her relatives are travelling people, I believe.”

They both know they’re both lying. Neither of them blinks.

“I see,” he says again. “Well, thank you for informing me, professor. I’ll be off to dinner now, though.”

Dumbledore watches him with undisguised suspicion for a good minute before smiling. “Of course, Tom. It’s shepherd’s pie tonight. You certainly wouldn’t want to miss it.”

Tom holds his calm, impersonally polite smile through dinner, relieved that at least most of his peers in Slytherin have gone home for the holidays so he’s not subjected to their inane chatter. He keeps it in place through evening rounds, through his nightly routine. It’s only later, having sneaked down to the Chamber a little after midnight, that he lets the façade crack, firing off spells at the wall with a vicious, raging anger while he shouts his frustration.

Impulsive and erratic as it is, it does make him feel better. Steadier. Clearer.

He’s Tom Riddle, he reminds himself: prodigiously talented, sharp and clever and determined, the brightest mind of the century. And then he smiles.

There’s nowhere Dumbledore can hide her that Tom can’t find.

send me prompts if you want <3

#tomione #tom riddle #hermione granger #time travel ficlet

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piratewithvigor · 4 years ago

Text

My first thought in regard to every band that gets played on my radio station

ACDC: Every dad’s favourite band

Adams, Bryan: Every mom’s favourite singer until Michael Buble came along

Aerosmith: haha they thought Vince Neil was a lady

Alice Cooper: he’s a Game Of Thrones fanboy and I have proof

Alice In Chains: my sister doesn’t like them because she decided AC were Alice Cooper’s initials ONLY

Allman Brothers Band: good music for dropping acid to

Allman, Gregg: That’s too many Gs for one name

Animals: House Of The Rising Sun, or who even cares

Argent: Sometimes Hold Your Head Up is really catchy

Asia: Tuesdays

Autograph: one of the members went on to be a pharmacist

Bachman-Turner Overdrive: There are just so many pop culture jokes about Taking Care Of Business that whatever I say won’t be as funny

Bad Company: with their song; Bad Company, off their album; Bad Company

Benatar, Pat: Always getting her confused with Patti Smith

Black Crowes: I like them for Lickin, but it doesn’t seem to exist outside of one shoddy video on youtube and my old CD

Blackfoot: this band name feels kind of racy

Black Sabbath: Dio was not better or worse than Ozzy; just different

Blondie: I like Call Me, but Blondie confuses me stylistically

Blue Oyster Cult: MORE COWBELL

Bon Jovi: Hello, childhood trauma, I missed you

Boston: ONE GUY. ONE GUY DID IT ALL AND NO ONE KNOWS

Bowie, David: Don’t let your children watch The Man Who Fell To Earth, or David Bowie’s will end up being the third penis they see in life

Browne, Jackson: Another musician ruined by Supernatural

Buffalo Springfield: Jack Nicholson was at the riot they sing about

Burdon, Eric: no ideas, brain empty

Bush: ditto

Candlebox: ditto once more. Who are these people?

Cars: This band feels so gay and so straight at the same time, I can only assume they’re the poster children of bisexual panic

Cheap Trick: I played Dream Police on Guitar Hero so fucking much because it was the only song anyone who played with me could keep up with

Chicago: Chicago 30 exists, but they do not have 30 albums. Fucking riddle me that

Clapton, Eric: 6 discs in one Greatest Hits is too many. That’s called “re releasing your discography”

Cochrane, Tom: For some reason, everyone thinks Rascal Flats did it better

Cocker, Joe: Belushi did it right

Collective Soul: who?

Collins, Phil: If his biggest hits were done by MCR, they would be emo anthems, but because he’s 5′6″ and from the 80s, they’re not

Cream: *Vietnam flashbacks on the hippie side*

CCR: *Vietnam flashbacks on the war side*

CSNY: David Crosby; meh

Deep Purple: THEY’RE SO MUCH MORE THAN SMOKE ON THE WATER

Def Leppard: the only music for when you’re a heartbroken bitch but also a sexy one

Derek And The Dominos: Clapton and ‘Layla’ broke up

Derringer, Rick: Tom Petty if he was from the midwest

Dio: You thought it was an anime reference, but it was me, Dio

Dire Straits: You can tell how bigoted a radio station is based on how much of Money For Nothing they censor

Doobie Brothers: I have yet to smoke weed, but I listen to the Doobies, and I think that’s pretty close

Dylan, Bob: I take back everything I said about him in my youth

Eagles: Hotel California isn’t their best song, but the memes that come from it are second to none

Edgar Winter Group: @the--blackdahlia

Electric Light Orchestra: Actually an orchestra and sound a fuckton like George Harrison

ELO: I really hesitate to ask what happens with the 7 virgins and a mule

Essex, David: no prominent memories of him

Fabulous Thunderbirds: cannot spell

Faces: Who on earth thought that was a good album name?

Faith No More: I got nothing

Fixx: One Thing Leads To Another is a damn bop

Fleetwood Mac: I ain’t straight, but I’m simply not enough of a witch to enjoy them to full potential

Fogerty, John: He got sued cause he sounded like himself

Foghat: Slow Ride slowly becoming less coherent feels like a drug trip

Foo Fighters: He was just excited to buy a grill

Ford, Lita: deserved better

Foreigner: dramatically overplayed

Frampton, Peter: a masterful user of the talk box

Free: dramatically underplayed

Gabriel, Peter: leaving Genesis changed him a lot

Genesis: if someone likes Genesis, clarify the era, because yes, it does matter

Georgia Satellites: sing like you have a cactus in your ass

Golden Earring: Twilight Zone slaps, but it doesn’t slap as hard as this station thinks it does

Grand Funk Railroad: Funk

Grateful Dead: I like their aesthetic more than their music

Great White: there are so many fucking shark jokes

Greenbaum, Norman: makes me think of Subway for some reason

Green Day: the first of the emo revolution

Greg Kihn Band: RocKihnRoll is literally the most clever album name I’ve ever seen

Guns N Roses: They have more than three good songs, but radio stations never recognize that

Hagar, Sammy: I’m still trying to figure out where he lived to take 16 hours to get to LA driving 55 and how fucking fast was he driving beforehand?

Harrison, George: He went from religious to rock, and if he had continued rocking, he would have gotten too cool

Head East: I respect people who use breakfast foods as album names

Heart: Magic Man and Barracuda are played at least once every goddamn day. They’re not even the best songs!

Hendrix, Jimi: I have both a cousin and a sibling named after Hendrix references

Henley, Don: Dirty Laundry gives me too much inspiration

Hollies: Somehow sound like they’re both from the 60s and the 80s at the same time

Idol, Billy: he’s doing well for himself

INXS: Terminator vibes

Iris, Donnie: knockoff Roy Orbison

James Gang: too many funks

Jane’s Addiction: if TMNT had a grunge band representative

Jefferson Airplane: *assorted cheers*

Jefferson Starship: *assorted boos*

Jethro Tull: The only band to make you feel not cool enough to play the flute

Jett, Joan: icon

J. Geils Band: I requested them on the radio once and it got played

Joel, Billy: he really did just air everybody’s business like that

John Cafferty And The Beaver Brown Band: literally wtf is that name

John, Elton: yarn Elton sits in my basement, unstaring. Please someone take him from me

Joplin, Janis: Queen

Journey: Stop overplaying Don’t Stop Believing. It takes away from the rest of the repetoire

Judas Priest: literally started the gay leather aesthetic

Kansas: another fucking band Supernatural stole

Kenny Wayne Shepherd: the man confuses me to the point where he isn’t in the right place alphabetically

Kiss: Mick Mars and I will simply have to disagree on the subject

Kravitz, Lenny: runaway vibes

Led Zeppelin: Fucking fight me if you don’t think they’re the most talented band (maybe not the most talented individually, but collectively, no one comes close)

Lennon, John: My least favourite Beatle for reasons

Live: I got nothin

Living Colour: slap a decent amount

Loverboy: do you not get TURNT the fuck up to the big Loverboy hits? Who hurt you??

Lynyrd Skynyrd: Sweet Home Alabama is a Neil Young diss track

Marshall Tucker Band: no opinion

Manfred Mann’s Earth Band: VERY STRONG OPINIONS THAT THEY AREN’T GOOD

McCartney, Paul/Wings: Power couple

Meatloaf: I have nothing but respect for a man who willingly named himself Meatloaf

Mellencamp, John: voted cutest lesbian of 1987

Metallica: I liked their appearance on Jimmy Fallon

Midnight Oil: I get them confused for Talking Heads a lot

Modern English: who?

Molly Hatchet: Hollies vibes, but also Georgia Satellites vibes

Money, Eddie: DAN AVIDAN, IF YOU SEE THIS, COVER TAKE ME HOME TONIGHT

Motley Crue: Stan Mick Mars and John Corabi. They’re the only ones who deserve it

Mott The Hoople: no one loves them except for David Bowie

Mountain: props for naming an album ‘Climbing’

Nazareth: I want to make a John Mulaney joke here, but I can never come up with one

Nicks, Stevie: witch queen

Night Ranger: I get them confused with Urge Overkill

Nirvana: Kurt Cobain was the ally grunge needed

Nova, Aldo: he’s Canadian, at least

Nugent, Ted: *serves a ghost as jerky*

Offspring: nothing here

Osbourne, Ozzy: this bitch crazy

Outfield: Your Love is kind of a sketchy song, but it slaps hard

Palmer, Robert: low quality Eddie Money

Pearl Jam: *grunts in Eddie Vedder*

Petty, Tom: I have so many feelings about Tom Petty and they are all good

Pink Floyd: which one is Pink?

Plant, Robert: solo career is a crapshoot, but his voice is unparalleled

Poison: I want them to write a song called ‘Alice Cooper’

Pretenders: I want to say good things, but I have nothing to say

Queen: A doctor of astrophysics, a screaming girl, a disco queen and a diva walk into a bar. It’s Queen; they’re there to play a gig

Queensryche: neutral opinion

Quiet Riot: they got big because of a song they hated. I love that

Rafferty, Gerry: the second-sexiest sax opening in all of music

Rainbow: Ritchie Blackmore created something very magnificent

Ram Jam: one good song and they didn’t even write it

Ratt: I’m sure they have more than Round And Round, but I don’t know it

RHCP: funky, but if you have paid money to hear them, you’re going to The Bad Place (I don’t make the rules)

Red Rider: basically Golden Earring

Reed, Lou: Walk On The Wild Side would be such a cool song if it wasn’t so dull

REM: American Tragically Hip

REO Speedwagon: Props for having a dad joke as an album title

Rolling Stones: Never in my life could I imagine the drummer being named anything but Charlie

Rush: How to make being uncool the coolest fucking shit

Santana: The world needs more Santana

Scandal: There’s something really funny about The Warrior being my brother’s “song” with his girlfriend

Scorpions: Was Wind Of Change written by the CIA? Only the spotify podcast I got an ad for once could say

Seger, Bob: A different variety of Eric Clapton (frankly a better variety, but that’s just me)

Simple Minds: we ALL forgot about you

Skid Row: Sebastian Bach is prettier than all of us

Soundgarden: music that makes you feel like you dunked your head underwater

Springsteen, Bruce: my arch-nemesis. Maybe someday, he’ll find out about it

Squeeze: according to my friends, the stupidest band name ever, but they’re theatre kids, so you know

Squier, Billy: If he can make it through 1984 alive, you can make it through whatever bad day you’re having

Stealers Wheel: Yet another band who I always mistake for George Harrison

Steely Dan: my house’s nickname for the Robber in Settlers Of Catan

Steppenwolf: Either makes me think of Jay & Silent Bob, Jack Nicholson, or that time I had to cut 6lbs of onions

Steve Miller Band: when you’re in the right mood, they slap hard

Stewart, Rod: my soundtrack to summer 2015

Stills, Stephen: Love The One You’re With Is Catchy, but the lyrics are questionable

Stone Temple Pilots: the only band to write a song about goo you smear on yourself

Stray Cats: an obscene amount of merch is available for them

Styx: Supernatural would have ruined them for me too if I hadn’t been into them previously.

Supertramp: I hunted for Breakfast In America for two years and it was worth every hunt

Sweet: I will never understand my two-month obsession with Ballroom Blitz when I was 15, but it was legit all I listened to

Talking Heads: you may find yourself in a pizza hut. And you may find yourself in a taco bell. And you may find yourself at the combination pizza hut and taco bell. And you may ask yourself; ‘how did I get here?’

Temple Of The Dog: I keep confusing them for Nazareth

Ten Years After: somehow still relevant

Tesla: not the car or the dude

The Beatles: Evokes a lot of opinions from people. Mine is that I love them

The Clash: I showed my sister the ‘Lock The Taskbar’ vine ONCE and it still kills her

The Doors: evokes teenage terror from deep within my soul

The Guess Who: Canada’s answer to confusing question-themed band names

The Kinks: kinky

The Police: wrote the theme of 2020 and everyone somehow forgot it was about a teacher resisting becoming a pedophile

The Ramones: playing all of their songs in a row wouldn’t take more than 2 hours

The Romantics: you don’t think you know them, but if you’ve seen Shrek 2, you have

The Who: If someone can explain Tommy to me, I’d be glad to hear it

The Zombies: I think they happened because of the 60s

Thin Lizzy: Could the boys maybe leave town?

Thorogood, George: blues, but make it modern

Toto: the most memed song behind All Star

Townshend, Pete: just makes me think of the end of Mr. Deeds

T-Rex: Mark Bolan is an icon

Triumph: The no-name brand of Rush

Tubes: like the yogurt

Twisted Sister: they did a christmas album and my mom does NOT hate it

U2: U2 Movers; we move in mysterious ways

Van Halen: RIP Eddie

Van Morrison: honestly, who’s named Van?

Vaughn, Stevie Ray: Steamy Ray Vaughn

Walsh, Joe: The Smoker You Drink The Player You Get

War: Foghat, but even groovier

Whitesnake: the most successful band to be named after a penis

Wright, Gary: the 90s thanks him for writing the song every movie used for the “guy sees cute girl and it’s love at first sight” scene

Yes: To Be Continued

Young, Neil: The best part of CSNY

Zevon, Warren: the album cover of Excitable Boy makes me deeply uncomfortable for reasons I don’t understand

ZZ Top: has been the same three guys since 1969. Lineup unchanged.

3 Doors Down: They feel a little modern to be on a classic rock station, but whatever

38 Special: Why 38?

#I made this instead of doing homework #Classic Rock #Meme

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i-did-not-mean-to · 3 years ago

Text

Diary found in K---D--- : Part 2

So, here's the next little part of this :D

Imagine by @lathalea is indented!

Enjoy <3

Taglist: @shrimpsthings, @mulasawala (so you see where I'm going with this lol)

(Yes, there will be MORE artwork coming, stay posted...)

Fandom: Hobbit

Characters: Ori x OC

Rating & Warning: Fluff and silliness

His name was Ori and he was a scribe in Erebor. It turned out he visited the forest often to sketch the animals and plants. You spent the rest of the day together. In the evening, you exchanged campfire stories, sharing a meal. At one point, he shyly asked about where you came from. Blushing, he admitted, almost whispering, he never saw a person with such beautiful hair before.

You told him that you came from another world, from a region called East Asia, where many people looked similarly to you. He was very curious about your homeland, your culture and your world. You spent hours telling him everything about it and he listened to you in awe.

“Ori.” He replied, his lips quirking a tiny bit as if he was not used to speaking his own name. “I’m a scribe. In Erebor. The Mountain.” He pointed to a tree beyond the clearing.

Thankfully, I was familiar with the Lonely Mountain and did not think that he didn’t know the difference between a living organism and a pile of minerals.

“I have never seen you, neither here nor in that Mountain.” I replied, for I went into the halls sometimes to translate for travellers, but for the most part, I let the king be his grumpy, glorious self.

“I come here often, to sketch, but I seem to have lost my way.” He admitted with a tiny frown. Ah, a real dwarf. They only knew up and down seemingly and if there was no way into a hill, they’d stubbornly trek up until they tumbled off the other side again.

As if to prove to me that he was not lying – dear reader, he had a face that was utterly devoid of malice or dissimulation – he showed me rather good sketches of the fauna and flora of the dense forest surrounding us. “That is really good, Ori, the scribe, from under the Mountain.” I commented which made him blush with a fierce and, apparently, unexpected pleasure.

In an expression of indescribable cuteness, he literally wiped his face with his sleeve as if he could clean away the rosy hue like a stubborn ink stain from under his skin.

“What are you here for?” He then asked, pushing out his chest heroically. As a reminder, he was the one who had lost his way, but apparently, he wanted to defend either the forest from me or the other way around.

“I am here to think…in silence.” I replied; he retreated a few steps. “Oh? I’ll leave you to it then, I guess. It was great to make your acquaintance…”

I gave him my name, after all, he had given me his, and he chewed on it for a few moments before his face split into a smile that was like the sunlight breaking through the cloudy afternoon sky: tentative, warm, and strikingly beautiful.

“Stay. I like your face.” I heard myself saying. Maybe, it was my teasing, mischievous streak acting up, but I had liked his embarrassment so much that I couldn’t help wanting to coax more of these blushes out of him.

“My…face?” In that weird dance he had been engaged in for the last few minutes, Ori stepped closer again, shuffling his feet in the heavy boots dwarrows insisted on wearing.

No, your ass, I thought, but bit my tongue; Ori the dwarf looked like someone who would die on the spot if I said anything even remotely inappropriate…as I was wont to do when nervous.

My sarcastic thought spurred my own interest though and I examined him a little closer: he was indeed swaddled like a babe, beads of sweat pearling down his temples on account of the steep climb and the stubborn blush powdering his nose and cheeks with pink blotches.

“Sit down, you’ll get a heat stroke.” I invited him and pointed to a patch of moss beside me while rummaging in my pack for the flask of ale I had brought.

“Thank you ever so much.” He plopped down in a cascade of earthen-coloured wool and awkward limbs. He did smell warm, I noticed, a blend of cinnamon and comfort.

Also, he had one of those faces that only became better when seen up-close, I admit freely; there were golden stars dancing in the depth of his dark eyes and he had the most adorable freckles as if some outlandish fairy had sprinkled gold dust over that heart-wrenchingly handsome face.

“Are you thirsty, Mistress?” He asked, nodding at the flask in my hand.

Handing it to him rather abruptly, I realised that I had spent the last moments intently staring at his face as if I had never seen a male dwarf before in my life.

“I have work to do.” I snapped, feeling immediately guilty for taking my own embarrassment out on him, but he merely nodded and pulled his sketching supplies into his lap.

Strangely enough, Ori did not disturb me. If anything, the silence felt fuller, richer, deeper with him by my side. As I translated a letter, as a spinster I had to support my family and my insufferable sisters as best as I could, I felt like the chirping of the birds and the vibrancy of the colours around me were even more enjoyable now that I shared them with someone else.

…

The sun crept along its never-changing arc slowly and yet, much too fast.

As I looked up, I wished I was a better painter myself, for this dwarrow was made for sunsets.

The way the last golden hurrah of a perfect day exploded in a halo of warmth around his figure, the way all the greys and the blues seemed to bleed out of the world to leave nothing but warm tones behind, and the way his smile was the perfect expression of this mellow, unhurried mood…it struck me deeper and more violently than a thunderstorm in all its booming rage would have.

“Will you join me for dinner, Ori?” I asked gently, “I shall escort you back down.”

“It would be my honour.” He nodded, tearing out a page of his notebook and handing it over.

“It was an invitation; I do not demand payment.” I said seriously, for the sketch of the doe was so good, it might have been worth actual money. “Oh…” His nose crinkled at little at that.

“I wanted you to…have something beautiful. I have seen you work very hard.”

Of course, he was a scribe as well, he would consider the scribbling work, I thought and gave him a thankful smile. “You’re beauty enough for one day.” I shrugged.

He gasped, bringing his notebook up to his face as if to shield himself from my words.

“You’re having me on, aren’t you? Dori has warned me that girls do that sometimes.” He sounded utterly dejected. “I am not having you on. Has nobody ever told you that you’re handsome?” It was my turn to be wide-eyed with shock.

“And who is Dori?” I followed-up when he didn’t really reply to my question even though I thought I had seen his braids move like strings of pearls in a draft. The minutest of shakes of the head, a quiet admission of inadequacy that sunk ugly, ragged claws into my soft heart.

“He’s my brother. I have two of them. Dori…and Nori. They’re…” – “Older than you.” I completed. “Protective.” He supplied.

He was still holding his drawing out to me, and, after a moment, I took it gingerly and put it between the pages of my own writing supplies. I would hang it in my room and look at it daily.

Nowadays, there were but very few gifts for me; all the money went to my two younger sisters who were still nubile and would, if Mahal willed it so, be able to make a good match.

Busying my hands with making a fire, I asked him to tell me about his brothers.

“Oh, Nori is…agile. He’s…funny and brave and resourceful.” Ori started, his voice warm with affection and admiration. He sounded like a proper rogue to me, and as it turned out, he was, but he also deserved every single ounce of the deep-felt care Ori held for him.

“Dori is…fussy. He’s polite, he’s very caring, and he’s exceedingly proper.” Ori went on as I waved a hand for him not to stop. I enjoyed hearing about the life of other families than my own.

“So, is he the one who raised you to be this…warmly clad and gentle?” I asked, turning to place the foodstuffs I had brought up and stored in the cool lake water on spits to roast over the fire.

“Warm? Oh yes…I was a sickly pebble and he’s been worried ever since. I hope I have behaved in a way that would not make him disappointed in me.” Again, he worried his lip.

“Let’s see, you’ve startled a bird and an unsuspecting dwarrowdam.” I listed with a wicked gleam in my eyes; his face fell, and he looked properly guilty.

“Then, you’ve kept me company, and the best company I’ve ever had, it has been, on my grandmother’s grave, I swear.” I went on and that treacherous blush was back with a vengeance.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” He then said in a low voice. “Great beauty is always startling.”

“I am hardly Thorin Oakenshield.” He laughed. Readers, you cannot imagine that sound just by reading my words. If flowers blossoming had melody, if the sun setting on the eternal sea had a song, if autumn leaves dancing on a gale had a tune, they would have sounded like nails on scree, like cats having their tails trampled, and like kettles going unheeded compared to Ori’s laughter.

“There’s beauty in the doe as much as in the wolf.” I replied gently.

“May I…can I ask where you’re from? I don’t seek to be rude, but I’ve never seen anyone quite like you; your hair looks like those fabrics the Elves weave. It…seems so soft, so liquid, so smooth.” He blushed a darker shade yet.

This might well have been the first time that someone had asked me about my origins without making it sound like an accusation; there was honest fascination in his demeanour.

“My family and I have come from the Far East. I have travelled a lot, Ori, I have seen landscapes entirely made up of rock and sand, I have walked forests so stiflingly hot and moist it felt like being underwater, and now, I am here in the land of tall trees and taller mountains.”

I said, surprised by my own frankness.

“That sounds amazing.” He took the food I offered readily enough, and I told him about the people I’ve left behind to be stranded at the other end of the world.

“This is good, is that a recipe of your homeland?” He asked, looking down on the piece of meat I had seasoned with herbs I had grown myself in our small backyard.

“It actually is. I’m glad you like it. I had not planned to have company, otherwise I’d have brought something more palatable to the local tongue.” I apologised quickly.

“No, I like it. You should definitely trade some recipes with Dori…and Bombur…oh, and if any of your delicious herbs are medicinal, Óin.” He laughed again when he saw my dumbfounded expression.

“I make a good honeycake, if I can interest you in that? Maybe…” He fell back into silence.

…

A look at the sky told me that it was too late to go down in the inky darkness.

“We’ll have to stay here for the night.” I mumbled, slightly uncomfortable at the idea of spending the night with a dwarrow who had not lost a single word about a wife.

“Are you married, Mistress? Will that endanger your wedlock?” He asked shyly.

“No, I am not and I have no name to lose…It’s a long story.” I didn’t feel like blurting out my disgrace, lest it give him strange ideas after all, especially as he would easily have been able to overpower me if he so chose.

“Neither am I. I don’t know about my name…Doesn’t look like I’m going to be married either. There’s not enough dwarrowdams as it is, and I think the royal line has a prerogative there.” There was no resentment in his tone; he seemed to accept this as a fact.

How could someone that sweet not be married, I wondered. He was courteous, he was cute, and he would have made the fortune and happiness of someone.

“Well, in that case, I think we can risk our reputation rather than our necks.” I grinned, rolling out a blanket I kept tied to my pack for emergencies and stretched out next to the fire on the moss.

“Erm, yes…Good night…” He mumbled, fidgeting around with his different layers of clothing. Apparently, he was deciding which one he needed least on his body to use it as a bedroll or blanket.

I eyed the proceedings with interest and a good deal of amusement.

“I can offer you my cloak to lie upon…the ground will grow very cold and wet soon.” He said in a low voice, not sure if I had already fallen asleep or not.

“Alright, I can offer you a spot under the blanket then?” I extended my own graciousness.

“With you?” No, with the red bird, I thought, rolling my eyes internally.

“Yes, Ori the scribe, with me. I will not eat you, as you have witnessed, I have had dinner.” Not that he did not look good enough to devour, standing there with his cloak in his hands and his face all crunched up in embarrassment.

“Hmmm…I guess.” He muttered doubtfully, spreading out the cloak and sitting down on it carefully. Impatiently, I scooted over and spread my lousy blanket over the both of us with a flourish.

“Sleep!” I commanded as I turned around only to find him staring wide-eyed at the spot where the back of my head had been only a second ago. Now that he was presented with my face, only inches away from his, his eyes grew even rounder and bigger in wordless distress.

“Friend…Have you never lain with a woman? And I literally mean, lying next to one?” I laughed for there had been friends and cousins aplenty in my own life and the feeling of having another body so close to mine was not a new experience for me.

“Well, I fell down on the battlefield once, next to a foe…I’m pretty sure that was a Lady-Orc. She was dead. There was a…” He gestured, indicating a spear or a lance sticking out of his chest and brushing against my own with the back of his hand. Dear reader, he flinched back as if I was a tiny Durin’s bane wreathed in flames.

“A Lady-Orc, indeed…” I mused; no doubt, he could hear the smile I hid in my voice for his face crunched up in embarrassment.

“I am sorry.” He sighed, rolling his eyes, and thinking – there was not a shadow of a doubt about that much – of his brothers who would have mocked him mercilessly for his stammering.

“There’s no need to be sorry” I tried to reassure him, but I admit now that there were things that I did not tell him right away then. We had only just met, and he was blessedly unaware of my shameful past.

How could I have made him understand – without hurting his feelings – how much I enjoyed that air of purity about him that I had squandered myself on an undeserving fiend? As a daughter amongst others, I had been used to dwarrows coming to court or to seduce, their eyes ablaze with greed and their hands wandering.

He would not have comprehended how much the absence of that voracious hunger that had plagued my youth and had ended up destroying my promising future meant to me.

“Sleep.” I repeated, unable to put into words how miraculous and precious the things he seemed to be most ashamed of were to me.

“Good night, Mistress.” He breathed with a soft smile that was nowhere near the wolfish baring of fangs I was used to and so, it was easy to return it.

You who may or may not have stumbled upon this ludicrous account of the most important story in an otherwise unimportant life, you shall hear another confession I did not make at the time.

I was fiercely aware that – had I but leant forward a little – I might have pressed my lips upon his; I was young still at that time and, despite what had happened, parts of me, that should have withered and died in the aftermath of my botched engagement, were much alive.

He smelled like our dinner and warmth, and the gentle reticence of the curve of his smile was more inviting than any flashing grin I had ever seen before.

Yes, in that very moment, on this very first evening, I had already been conscious of the shrewd attraction this self-effacing dwarrow held for me…and it scared me half to death.

…

Part 3

#Fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ori the dwarf #Ori #OC #Fluff #Diary #1st person

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