#me having 1400+ songs in my liked

[hauntedhowling]

Shuffle your favorite playlist and post the first five songs that come up. Then copy/paste this ask to your favorite mutuals. 💌💜

im just gonna use my liked songs bc thats what i listen to so here we go Green Bird - Gabriela Robin Elizabeth- Ghost For The Swarm- Avatar Sacred and Wild- Powerwolf Hero- Miguel

[nosferatufaggot]

Here Mutuals. No asks games, just me exposing myself. I don't have Spotify, and there is no algorithm to my CD listenings, but here is what YouTube has to say about how much music I listen to.

click for better quality? I don't know. Bully me if you want. Just don't leave me with 0 notes. T_T

[festivalsofmargot]

how do you think Ominis, Garreth, and Sebastian would react to a jealous reader being jealous because someone else was being flirty and asking them to the Yule Ball?

The 3 Boys & Your Jealousy

{Garreth Weasley/Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader}

Word Count: 

Garreth: ~ 1500 words

Ominis: ~ 1700 words

Sebastian: ~ 1400 words

Warnings: Kissing, Fluff, Angst

Author’s Note: Lord, I’m having so much fun with these requests. Thank you, anon!!! I tried to make them all have different reactions to reader getting jealous, but I know they’d all secretly love it lmfao. So it’s a little similar, but it’s definitely the 3 boys enjoying it in their own way. Have a fun time, everyone 🥰 Hope you’re all having a good day ❤ 

Songs (if interested):

Garreth’s song: You Stupid Bitch - girl in red

Ominis’ song: Silence / akiaura - hentai boys, akiaura

Sebastian’s song: My Kind of Woman - Mac DeMarco

-

Garreth:

“I feel like you’ve been avoiding me. Did I do something wrong?” Garreth Weasley had come up to you and asked. For someone who was asking if something was wrong, he could look a bit more concerned. Rather than just munching on his apple, looking at it like it was the only thing that had his full attention.

You took a deep breath and rubbed at your temple roughly. You were overreacting and you knew it, but dammit you couldn’t help but hate him at the moment. “No Garreth, I’m just not in the best mood today.”

“Well, talk to me.” He plopped himself down on the Central Hall fountain bench next to you. “Some have called me a good listener.” He took another bite of his apple, obnoxiously loud.

“Not right now. Why don’t you go bother someone else?”

“Who else could I bother like this? You and I got a good thing going.” He haphazardly joked.

“How about your date to the ball? That’s a good place to start if you ask me.”

He furrowed his brows, trying to decipher what you were talking about. Then he remembered Samantha Dale had asked him to be his date the night before. “Oh! You know about that? How does word travel so fast in such a huge castle?” He wondered aloud with his mouth full, looking at his apple as he turned it in his hand.

Merlin, you didn’t know why you were so head over heels for Garreth Weasley. Something about his carefree, aloof attitude made you fluttery all over. You wanted to smack him just as much as you wanted to kiss him. 

Truth be told, you were convinced he was going to ask you to The Yule Ball. But once you saw Samantha Dale talking with him about it and seeing how big his smile was, you became so frustrated with yourself for ever thinking such a thing. How could you have been so wrong about his signs? You shouldn’t have assumed your flirty banter together was something special between the two of you. You had no one to blame but yourself.

“Look Garreth, I’m pretty busy. Samantha will be better company than me today.” You took out the essay you were halfway finished with and began writing, hoping he would take the hint.

He was about to take another bite of his apple when the pieces came together in his brain. You think I said yes to Samantha... and you're jealous. 

It was hard to keep calm when he felt so elated. He had been pining for you since 5th year and never had the courage to confess his feelings. Being with you as a friend was better than risking not being with you at all. But here you were, acting as green as his eyes. Becoming jumpy, he scratched the back of his head and looked away from you, trying to bite back his delighted smile.

“So...” He began as casually as he could, “You don’t like the idea of me going to the ball with Samantha?”

You stiffened. Am I caught? You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I don’t care who you go with, Weasley.”

You used his last name instead of his first, that was how he always knew if you were upset with him. In this particular moment, he took a dark pleasure in it. “Well, it sounds like you care a little.” 

You looked up from your essay to the marble floor in front of you and clenched your jaw, trying to calm your irritated nerves and stop yourself from saying something you’d regret. “It doesn’t matter if I care. Go with who you want.” You went back to your essay.

“But you care.” He slid closer to you so that his thigh was touching yours. Your whole body tensed and you shifted your leg away, disgusted at his brazenness to continue flirting with you when he was going to the ball with someone else.

“I’m going to work in my room.” You pulled your belongings together and left your place next to him.

Garreth got up and followed you easily, finishing the last of his apple and tossing it in a nearby bin. He rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth to wipe off any apple juice. Maybe he could wipe off his idiotic smile while he was at it too. 

You could feel his chest practically against your back as he followed close in pursuit. “Leave me alone, Garreth. I’m really not in the mood today.” You growled at him, but he didn’t let up. 

He took glances around as he kept up with you. Once he was confident no one was looking, he grabbed your arm and pulled you into a nearby, empty corridor.

“What are you -”

“Tell me you’re jealous. I want to hear you say it.” 

His words sent your mind through a whirlwind and you shoved him away. “You got some nerve, going to the ball with Samantha and going after me like this -”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake! I turned her down. School gossip failed to mention that part, I see.” He interjected. “Now let me have this a little longer.” He stepped closer to you, daring you to push him away again. “This thing where you want me all to yourself, I think I really like it.” His words came off as a jest, but he was genuinely aroused.

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to determine if he was being truthful or just trying to keep up his flirty banter with you. But your icy glare at him through your lashes only made him more feral rather than intimidated. 

“I -” He cleared his throat, regaining composure. “I’ve been looking for you all day so I could ask you to the ball, but you kept dodging me.”

“Garreth, if this is some sort of messed up joke where you try to get two dates to the ball -”

“It’s not. But, that is a fun idea.” He quipped, hoping it would lighten the mood. 

Sighing, you turned on your heel to walk away.

“Sorry sorry sorry, bad joke, bad time.” He grabbed your wrist, panicked. “But I’m serious about taking you. I really want to take you.” He swallowed thickly and held your wrist in his hand. “Would you... want that too?” As he waited for you to respond, he had started stroking your skin with his thumb, unaware he was doing so.

His hopeful look along with his tone had managed to convince you he was being truthful. This was the first step either of you had taken beyond flirty banter, and it had you finally soften to him that day. You looked at his hand on your wrist and adjusted so you could entwine your fingers through his. His heart nearly burst out of his chest. Was this finally happening?

You looked up at him then, but locked on his lips rather than his eyes. Heat formed in his abdomen at your gaze. He used his free hand to cup your jaw. The dark look in your eyes told him you had the same severe craving for him as he did you. He eased towards you and brushed his lips over yours.

He pulled back to gauge your reaction. You looked at him with wide eyes and for a brief moment, he thought he had messed up and taken it too far. But all that panic went away when you dropped your books and threw your arms around him, seizing his lips, taking all coyness between you two and throwing it out the window.

Your sudden burst had rocked him both physically and mentally. Gripping you back, hard and fast, he steadied himself, stepping on your essay as he did so. He matched your eager mouth movements with just as much intensity. 

Needing to come back up for air, you pulled back. You looked at each other, breathless. All that tension between you two through the years had finally been able to get released at least somewhat.

“You looked so happy when Samantha asked you. I assumed you said yes.” You told him, still catching your breath.

He hadn’t realized you had been there to see Samantha asking him to the ball. He was both sorry you didn’t catch him rejecting her and sorry you had to catch it at all. Merlin only knows how he would have handled watching someone else asking you. “She’s a good friend, I mean I wasn’t going to scowl or laugh her off. I was letting her down as easy as I could.”

“I’m sorry I was jealous.”

He kept his face close to yours and glanced back at your lips, ready for more. “I’m sorry I enjoyed it.”

“No, you’re not.” 

“I’m not.” He captured your lips once more.

- 

Ominis:

Ominis was in a full on panic. He hadn’t the faintest idea what he had done wrong. He may be blind, but he could sense, clear as day, that you were upset with him. 

He was pacing back and forth in his dorm room when he was supposed to be at dinner. The sickness he felt had made it hard for him to want to digest anything.

He had been up at all hours of the night thinking about how he was going to ask you to The Yule Ball. But every time he tried to approach you that day, you’d take your leave. He thought he would have gotten his chance in History of Magic class, but everything seemed off. You usually tried to sit close to him and brush your fingers along his, it excited him each and every time. But today, he felt as if you were sitting as far as you possibly could from him.

He was trying to think back on everything that happened before you became so drastically distant. The last time he remembers you two being fine was when he had finally built up the courage to ask you that morning. 

Sebastian had pushed him to do it and fueled his ego to prep him, affirming that he saw the way you looked at him and how you weren’t so subtle about it. He was filled with so much joy, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling like a buffoon when he went to talk to you. 

“Ominis!” You had greeted him so cheerfully, it had removed any doubt in what Sebastian told him. As he was about to greet you back, Adelaide Oakes had touched his shoulder from behind to grab his attention. She then went on and on about how she fancied him, and took the ball as her chance to finally tell him how she felt. He had never been so overwhelmed with romantic attention in his life, it only fueled his confidence more. His words came out in a stutter to Adelaide to thank her but decline. It was difficult to turn someone down while grinning like a fool.

“I um - I'll leave you two to it.” He heard you say before he finished speaking with Adelaide. Your footsteps behind him had walked away so fast, he would have believed it if you were running. And ever since, for some reason you’ve been... oh. It hit him then. You must have assumed he was going to say yes to Adelaide. You couldn’t possibly be jealous, could you? If you were, he needed to find you and fix this immediately. But damn him if he wasn’t a bit thrilled at the idea.

He had his wand guide him to the first place he thought you could be in, the astronomy tower. It was late in the day, he was sure you’d be there. As he made his way up, he found his excitement at your jealousy swelling. You weren’t jealous because he was a Gaunt, a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, going with someone else. No, you were jealous because he was Ominis, a boy you liked for who he was, going with someone else. Or so you thought.

When his wand brought him to the astronomy tower and sensed you were close, he felt a bit of pride that he knew you as well as he thought he did. But he steadied himself, remembering you were upset with him. Coming at you beaming probably wasn’t the best approach.

“Ominis? What brings you here?” Your voice was monotone, nowhere near as pleased to see him as you were earlier.

He was relieved you were willing to speak to him rather than run off. “I needed to talk to you. Figured you’d be up here.” He approached cautiously.

You furrowed your brows, wondering what he could possibly need you for. Oh you’d just die if he wanted to ask for advice on how to treat Adelaide well at the ball. You turned away from him and lazily looked through your telescope. “Probably best we talk tomorrow.”

“You’re upset with me.”

You peeked up at him briefly, knowing it wasn’t fair to be, then went back to your telescope. You exhaled, inwardly chiding yourself. Ominis doesn’t owe you anything. “I’m sorry, I’ve just... had a lot on my mind.”

His wand guided him to the railing you were near and he leaned himself against it. “I’m all ears.” Part of him wanted to clear everything up as soon as possible, but another, increasingly louder part of him wanted to hear you confess that you were jealous, confess that you didn’t want anyone else to have him but you. So, he dared to play coy a little longer.

“You don’t want to hear what I have to say.”

“Try me.” The way he said it had taken you aback, as if he was telling you, not asking you, to talk to him.

“And what if I don’t want to tell you?” You looked back up at him, a bit of venom coming through.

He took a few steps towards your voice. I think I like this game. He knew he shouldn’t find your jealousy this exhilarating, but he did. He wanted it to absorb you until you couldn’t stand it anymore.

The look on his face stirred something fierce in you and you tried to take a quiet, calming breath. You hoped he wouldn’t hear you doing so, but he did, and it only added fuel to his fire.

“I don’t hear you walking away, so I think you do want to tell me.” He reached out for your robes and pulled at you to come closer to him. 

You had been weak for Ominis Gaunt since 5th year, so you obliged. But you didn’t do so without internally screaming at yourself for being such a fool. 

Despite being so close, you kept your hands to yourself, he noted. But he could sense your body tensing and he knew you were close to talking. He just needed to hold out a bit longer, push you just so in the right direction. “You’re angry with me, tell me why.” He knew why.

“I shouldn’t be angry with you.”

“Yet you are.”

“I am.”

“Tell me what I’ve done.”

“You... haven’t done anything.”

His grip moved from your robe to your waist, he could feel you shift at his touch, but you didn’t pull away. “I have, tell me.”

“You know, you shouldn’t be up here with me alone, touching me like you are. Wouldn’t want Adelaide or me getting the wrong idea, would you?” He could hear the bitterness in your voice, and it was sending him over the edge. You shoved his hand away and went to the railing, leaning forward and looking out. “I don’t think you mean to, Ominis. But you’re really messing with my head. Looking as happy as you were when Adelaide asked you to the ball, and now you’re here acting like you care for me.”

He followed your voice again and came up behind you. His hands found your shoulders and he comfortingly slid them down to your biceps. His touch still had the same, nerve-racking affect on you. You shrugged him off and turned to face him. He put both hands on the railing on either side of you, trapping you in. “I do care for you.”

As a friend. You wanted to finish for him. Him saying this to you knowing he was going to The Yule Ball with Adelaide hurt. Ominis was the last person who should be comforting you. “I need to go.” You nearly choked, heartbreak constricting your throat. But Ominis kept you blocked in, he wasn’t going to let you leave. 

“Tell me why I’ve upset you.”

Being in this position with him had an inferno swirling in you. Being able to see his pale, blue eyes this close had any fight in you vanish. “I wanted... you to ask me to The Yule Ball today. I wanted you to go with me, not Adelaide.” 

He leaned forward towards your neck and brushed his nose along your skin. 

Your melancholy turned into something else at his touch, something more throbbing. You reached your hands up along his chest, felt his heartrate pick up along with yours. “I want you to be with me.” You confessed in a whisper.

He began to kiss at your neck and you fisted the fabric of his uniform to keep yourself upright. He kissed up your neck, along your jaw, feeling his way to find your lips. He got to the corner of your mouth and pulled back just slightly, leaning his forehead against yours.

“I want you all to myself.”

He crashed his lips into yours. Your hands held tight to his shirt to keep him close. He took his hands off the railing to wrap his arms around your waist, his place against your mouth feeling all the more secure. You nipped at his bottom lip and he couldn’t help but let out a throaty “mmh.” 

He often tried to imagine what it would feel like to kiss you, the taste of your lips, the sensation of your hands roaming him as pretty as you pleased. This moment had been better than anything he conjured up in his head. He had never envisioned how much hot need would be in it until he had you there in his arms.

You tried to push him away suddenly, but he kept at you, not yet having had his fill. “Wait -” You caved for a brief moment and kissed him back, then pulled away again. “What about -”

“I said no to Adelaide.” He went back to your lips, then to your neck to explain himself so you’d stop pulling away. “I was going to ask you. But you ran off.” He hoped that was enough to stop any further questions, because his mind was already onto more pressing matters. He had heard that sucking on someone’s neck would leave marks, he decided to try it on you then.

You bit your lip, trying to keep your eyes from rolling into the back of your head. “You um -” You cleared your throat, “You still want to ask me?”

“I will, but let’s not talk right now.” 

-

Sebastian:

“What has gotten into you today?” Sebastian caught you off guard, shutting the greenhouse door behind him. You were tending to the carnivorous plants for Professor Garlick, you being the only student she really entrusted with such duties. 

You glanced at him over your shoulder, then brought your focus back to the plants. “I’m a little busy right now, Sebastian.”

He had never heard you speak to him with such acidity, you might as well have slapped him in the face. You had been in a sour mood with him all day. Of all the times for you to be upset with him, why did it have to be the day he had finally decided to confess his feelings and ask you to The Yule Ball? He strode to your side and bore his gaze into you, willing you to face him and explain yourself.

You didn’t give in and continued tending to the chomping cabbages. Sebastian was the last person you wanted to see. After everything the two of you had gone through, all the glimpses you gave each other, all the near kisses, how could it not mean the same for him as it did you? Was his overprotectiveness for you something brotherly rather than romantic? You felt so stupid having mixed the two. You had fallen so deeply in love with him through the years, and now you’ve come to find he doesn’t see you in that way. He made it very obvious how smitten he was when Grace Pinch-Smedley fawned over him, professing her love and asking him to the ball. 

“At least tell me what's upset you so.” He said sternly, interrupting your tragic thoughts.

You knew you should wait until your anger dissipated before speaking with him, but in that moment you didn’t care. You set down your gardening tools and turned to face him.

“How about we talk about you first, Sebastian?”

He let out a frustrated exhale through his nose and crossed his arms over his chest. “What about me?”

“I saw you and Grace speaking this morning, seems you were quite pleased with yourself. Care to share?”

He quirked his brow, not sure where you were heading with this. He remembered Grace speaking with him, but he didn’t remember feeling ‘pleased with himself’. “You saw Grace and I, did you?”

“I did.” You turned back to the chomping cabbages then. “Seems she was doing more than just asking you to the ball.”

He inwardly cringed at the memory. He was flattered at her confession, sure. But the part where he had to reject her had really taken away anything pleasant about the moment. “She told me she had been... harboring feelings for me.” He got shifty thinking back on it, getting rejected after spilling your guts like that must be dreadful.

You took note of his body language, and rosy cheeks. It was salt in the wound and the scowl on your face deepened. “No need to be so bloody bashful about it, Sebastian.” You mumbled.

He stilled then. You thought he was ‘bashful’ thinking back on his interaction with Grace? The gears in his brain started turning.

In that moment, you figured this was your last chance to lay it all out there for him. Since Grace very blatantly told him she wanted more than just a date to the ball, best to tell him how you felt now before they were officially together.

You turned to him fully. “Sebastian, do you care for me?”

His heart began racing and he straightened. “Of course.”

“Like you care for Anne and Ominis?"

“I do.” He said with conviction.

“So, like a sibling?”

“I - Well, I -”

“Because I don’t care for you like a brother, Sebastian.” You took a step towards him.

He was entranced, listening close to everything you had to say. The air between you two grew thick and it clicked for him then. The possessiveness he usually felt over you was now what you were feeling over him. You were under the impression he accepted Grace’s feelings... and you can’t stand it. A rousing sensation shot through him. He wanted to see what more you would do with this newfound greediness for him. 

“Perhaps you should have gotten to me before Grace did.” It was bold. He knew he was treading on thin ice, but seeing you act in the way he usually did was a turn of the tables he never knew he wanted to see. He was going to egg you on, get as much of this avaricious side out of you as he could before you devoured him like the plants in this room wanted to.

You reached out to him and began trifling with his tie. He stood perfectly still, afraid that if he moved you’d get discouraged and release him. “Are you telling me you would have been mine if I got to you first?”

Oh yes. “Suppose we’ll never know, considering you didn’t.” This wasn’t at all how he thought confessing his feelings to you would go. But this was a much more electrifying way to do so.

The two of you had unknowingly stepped closer to one another, pulled together like magnetic stones. Your hands were no longer fiddling with his tie, but rather holding it, ever so gently pulling him towards you. “So I’ve lost you, have I?”

Fight for me. Don’t let anyone else have me. “And if you have?” He wanted to find out what your lips tasted like more than he ever had before. He was so close, and eyed them oh so hungrily. But he tried to hold strong a bit longer, so he could know if you were feeling just as carnivorous for him as he always had for you.

The fire in your eyes almost had him on his knees. 

Claim me. Claim me as I’ve claimed you.

Giving his tie a hard yank, you pulled him to you and caught his lips with yours. You didn’t waste any time, straightaway tasting his bottom lip with your tongue. Keeping an unyielding grip on his tie, you shot a hand up to his hair and held tight. He put his hands on your hips, and couldn’t stop himself from pulling at your shirt so it came untucked. His hands roamed around your lower back, under your shirt to feel your skin.

Your movements in this kiss were the result of years of pining. There was both an ache to take it slow, feeling everything you both possibly could, and an urgency to make up for lost time right then and there. Now that you finally had him... Wait wait wait, I don’t have him.

You tore yourself from him and walked away, tucking your shirt back in.

“Wha - What? Where are you going?” He was breathless and dizzy and disheveled from your kiss. Get back here.

“Go to Grace.”

He groaned. He should have known keeping up the Grace ruse would have some sort of consequence. But in the moment, he was so obsessive over the fact that you wanted to stake your claim on him, he couldn’t help himself. “I lied about Grace. I turned her down.”

You turned to face him, still keeping your distance across the greenhouse. “Why would you -”

“Because being near you makes me crazy, that’s why!” He shot a hand through his hair, more out of anguish than to fix the mess you made. “I’m mad for you. How have you not noticed? This... possessiveness you have over me today? I feel it for you all the time. So, I’m sorry if I crossed a line, I -” He let out a shaky breath, trying to put the words together. “Seeing you act how I have... I wanted to relish it a bit longer. Forgive me.”

You remained where you were, but he could see your features shift. “Enjoyed my suffering, did you?”

Trying to keep his composure, he nodded his head. Your sultry look had his blood heading somewhere it shouldn’t in the middle of the greenhouse.

He may have been slow catching onto your jealousy, but he was quick to catch that you wanted his lips back on yours. Ravenous himself, he strode up to you and pulled you back against him.

[arijackz]

PICK A CARD: What Era Is Your Beauty From?

☯︎ “A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” ― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. I am not suggesting any of these descriptions are cannon to your ancestral history, these are just how my intuition perceived, and then presented your beauty’s energy.

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

🂽 Pile One 🂽 (the devil, 2oC rev., ace of cups rev., 4oW, 3oC, king of swords, the tower, the world)

❖ Pile one, I feel like I’m watching the Game of Thrones out of context. Just flashes of people from around the Medieval 1400s living their day-to-day; singing, dancing, eating together, and then… not.

❖ The imagery I got when I asked what era your beauty came from, was very longing in nature. There was a lot of joy and celebration but it felt like I was watching the film through teary eyes and a heavy heart.

❖ The “movie” flashed between a thriving culture sharing tales of triumph and having happy, drunk sing-song moments together; and then those same people under a war-torn regime of a very cruel but powerful man. I sense themes of religious persecution, nationwide government-forced famine, and general desecration of the once-peaceful way of life. The population was going through collective mourning.

❖ People lamented over their unfulfillable desire to reconnect with their homeland and all of their loved ones. With the World card at the end of the spread and the Empress at the bottom of the deck, I get the clear image that your beauty is the physical embodiment of a large collective’s longing for the sanctity of their community. You invoke that feeling people get when they remember a bitter-sweet memory that hums fervor in their chest and gives them the fire they need to push forward.

❖ Your beauty comes from an era where the genuine smile and cheer of a pretty girl sparked a nation’s hope for reformation. You are the last remaining connection to long-lost celebration and the heart of a forgotten city.

How Do You Paint The Divine Image of Hope?

🂽 Pile Two 🂽 (7oC rev., 4oP rev., full moon, leo, sacral chakra)

❖ WHOOOAAaaaaa Ammberrr is the collluuhhhhh of ya enneergyyy!! WHOoaaA, shades of gaawwllddd displayyy naturraalllyyyyyy…..

❖ Just know I was HOLLERING that. This is my hippie pile. My people. Yea that’s right, I’m talking the late 1960s - early 1970s.

❖ Your beauty arose at a time when society desperately needed color (specifically seeing some of you wearing a lot of bright colors or eye-catching jewelry or hairstyles). The world was bleak and the war’s aftermath on the overall mental and emotional welfare of the general public pushed people to radical ideals and birthed a revolution centered around liberation, pleasure, and community.

❖ Your beauty is all sunshine and rainbows. Psychedelics and organic food. The best music in human history (feel free to argue with me, but know that it is going straight out the other ear, mama) and week-long outdoor festivals full of peace, love, and vulnerability with total strangers.

❖ Your beauty brushes people with the chilling winds of shameless pleasure. The taste of unadulterated personal freedom that is almost a societal taboo. Your beauty is so purely liberating.

❖ Lmao, I imagine a guitar riff going off everytime you walk into a room.

❖ You are the physical embodiment of eccentric love and vivacious rebellion.

Play That Funky Music

🂽 Pile Three 🂽 (The lovers rev., the High Priestess rev., Ace of Swords., 4oC. 7)

❖ Revolution is a running theme for all of the piles. This collective’s beauty awakens people.

❖ I’m seeing a brilliant man going mad at the lack of creative intelligence around him and pushing for societal rebirth. A complete cultural shift from the Dark Ages (pile one), to modernity. This is my Renaissance pile.

❖ You embody the mystical fusion of art, religion, architecture, and science. You are all the world’s intrinsic beauty rolled up into one figure. You are the art that attracts painters, inventors, and philosophers alike.

❖ You have the beauty of an all-around muse. You invoke the spirit of creative passion. It is like people see you and get a stroke of inspiration. Something that kicks them in the ass and tells them to go outside and create.

❖ This pile is very romantic. A classical beauty, like red roses and bottle poems. The universal innate desire to dream big.

❖ Shoutout to my Aquarians, 11th housers, and Shatabhisha natives.

The Medieval-Modern Muse

🂽 Pile Four 🂽 (king of pentacles, 2oP, 5oP rev., 9oP)

❖ OKAY PLOTWIST?? I don’t know what era this pile’s beauty is from because it’s set in the future.

❖ It’s funny how the last piles were all set in periods of revolution (putting in the WORK) and your pile, the final pile, is set in a better world full of financial stability, the end of inequality, economic fairness, and universal abundance (the fruits of the labor).

❖ Dude, I was trying to read the message at first and was just scratching my head. I was like, “When has anywhere, literally ever been this good???” Then I saw the ace of wands reversed at the bottom of the deck and saw impending change and it clicked.

❖ I also saw some star semblance, and see that your beauty is a reminder to mankind that the “impossible” is already set in motion. The hell we have created will crumble.

❖ You are a physical embodiment of society’s future triumph. You radiate wealth and fairness. My Venusians, especially Libra. You also look regal, something about you makes people want to stand taller.

❖ You got the pride card, I see that you give people the feeling of victory. You are living proof of future triumph in a better world where greed and sorrow are eradicated.

❖ You are the harbinger of the next era.

Introducing The First Titanium Man On The Moon!

[iuchamjohta]

Leave these woman alone ft Yuna

1400 words

Notes: Hi anon thanks for your request, since it’s sent through the request box 😊 here’s a story dedicated for you. Also I will do Yuna justice with a better fic eventually don’t worry! (Yes this is a mix of shade and partial smut i guess) Did'nt proof read this thing cause it aint worth my time. For those who wants to read for the smut you can ignore the first two and last two paragraphs they arent for u but specially for my dear requester XD

First person POV of anon:

My name is Anon. I work a standard 9-5 job and have been doing so for 30 years. I’m a single and have never dated. Everyday I get scolded by my boss but I turn a deaf ear to it , just going through the motion of my routine life. Things however get exciting once I get home. I can induldge in my deepst darkest fantasies.

You see while on the surface, I'm a white knight in shiny armor, beneath that, I'm a self-righteous hypocritical man, living a double life. I've got an entire collection dedicated to Yuna, my ultimate bias, stashed away in a folder on my laptop, hidden deep within a secret folder, safely encrypted with a password only I know. It's my little haven, my sanctuary—a place where I can indulge in my wildest fantasies, free from judgment. I mean, who doesn't have their celebrity crushes, right? But for me, it's more than just a crush. Yuna is my fantasy. She's the one who makes me question my self-control.

The room is dimly lit, perfect for what I have in mind. I pull up a recent fancam from her solo performance.. There she is, in a low-rise jeans that showcased her hourglass figure, strutting across the stage with sheer confidence. The camera zeroes in on her for a solo performance, the lucky bastards in the audience probably have no idea how fucking lucky they are. Her eyes glint with confidence, as if seducing me and sending a wave of anticipation through my body. I bite my lip, feeling my dick twitch in anticipation. It's one of those days when I crave a release, a day dedicated to worshipping her perfect body.

Yuna is everything I want and more. Her magnetic aura draws me closer to the screen as she seductively sways to the music. Every curve of her body is sculpted by the gods themselves. I zoom in, wanting to explore every inch of her, starting from her face. Her huge eyes, her full lips that always look succulent, begging for me to take them. Her skin, pale in complextion that glows under the stage lights. I'd kill to know what she smells like, if she tastes as sweet as she looks. Her long legs they begged to be worshipped.

Her hair, cascading in soft waves, frames her face, occasionally whipping her forehead as she moves, making my fingers itch to run through it, to feel its silkiness between my fingertips. Her crop top reveals just the right amount of skin and her incredibly sexy midriff. They hug her chest tightly. I imagine pinching those rosy nipples, already knowing from countless fantasies that they'd harden instantly. The thought sends a jolt of lust straight to my cock.

The camera follows her every move, and she's teasing the fans mercilessly. She bends down, the low-rise jean - hugging every inch of her toned thighs and plump ass, highlighting the perfect hour glass figure. God, her ass! It's a work of art, rounded and firm, a sight that has me gripping my cock, stroking slowly as I imagine sinking my face into that soft flesh. The way she reveals her cleavage, The way her muscles flex under those jeans makes my mouth go dry. She knows what she's doing, the little tease. Each flick of her hips is a silent invitation to something forbidden.

As the song progresses, so does my hand on my shaft. I can't stop picturing her riding me, those long, toned legs wrapped around my waist. Her abs clench and relax with each provocative move, the sight alone nearly pushing me over the edge. The sweat glistening on her skin, the way it would feel slick under my palms as I hold her hips, grinding into me, fuck, it consumes me. I want to be the reason for her sweat, for her moans.

The performance builds up, and so does my pace. My breathing quickens, mirroring her heavy pants as if we're in sync. I can imagine the lust matching my own as she moves her hair behind her back, giving me a perfect view of her slender neck and the pulse point that makes my mouth water. A collarbone looks so defined and my hands would look so fucking perfect there, pushing her down unto my cock. My cock twitches, the thought of owning this goddess in the bedroom flooding my mind. I want to see her—no, I need to see her submissive side, her begging for more, on her knees, her pretty eyes pleading for me to take control.

I can't resist the urge anymore. I pause the video at the part where she's bending forward offering an eyeful of her cleavage and a hint of her flat stomach. The image fills the screen,  letting me examine every detail. From her perfect breast that I imagine running my tongue all over, to her navel, a shallow indent, a tempting destination for my tongue. I'd work my way downward, hearing her whimpers as I trace patterns on her sensitive skin, marking her with love bites along the way until I reach her wet core. With my other hand, I reach for the lube, needing more sensation. I coat my fingers and continue imagining my tongue's path, heading south past her navel to the place she craves attention. I'd tease her, running my fingers through her wetness, finding her clit, driving her wild. And when she's close, I'd sink two fingers into her, feeling her heat, her tightness, while I suck on that perfect neck, leaving my mark. Her moans would fill the room, echoing off the walls, telling me she's mine.

But, Yuna she's a master at denying satisfaction. The clip cuts just as I can see her biting her lip, probably holding back a moan. That's when my stroking gets wilder. I jerk off fiercely, imagining her on all fours, that ass in the air, begging for my cock. In my mind, I'd stand behind her, taking in the view before delivering hard thrusts, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. She loves rough, I know that much. I want to spank that ass, watch it jiggle with each impact, watch her pussy squeeze my dick, milking me.

"Fuck, Yuna," I groan, my vision blurring as pleasure spikes. I see her looking over her shoulder, those eyes half-lidded, knowing she's craving it harder. In my fantasy, I'd tug her hair, making her submit, taking her like an animal. I increase the pace, my balls tightening, then I would reach my peak, exploding with sensation. I come violently, coating my hand and the screen, wishing it was her that I coated instead.

Panting, I lean back, my heart hammering in my chest as I relish the aftermath. The image of her winking at the camera as she says her farewells plays in my head, and I know I'll be back for more—she's my addiction. Cleaning up, a satisfied smile on my face, I wonder if she has any idea the effect she has on me, if she knows she just gave me the best fucking handjob ever. Little does she know, this 'nobody' behind the screen is more than willing to show her how good it could be in reality.

Maybe one day, she won't just be a fantasy, but until then, I'll keep worshipping her on my screen.

Then with this guilty pleasure, I find the need to claim her as mine and "protect" her. Going unto forums, I tell myself I have to put back on my knight in shiny armour image! Telling everyone else to leave all these woman alone especially Yuna.

To me pornography is okay, I have fapped to many of it, nor do I see the need to email all these pornographic companies on what they are doing though more damaging is wrong. Other sexual fantasies are okay, but when it comes to others fantasising about my idols, I have to be defensive since they are my life even though I would never reach them. This is me, a double standard hypocritical white knight, a nameless nobody in my life. Nonetheless, this secret is safe with me, and as long as I live, I shall continue to remain self-righteous on the outside while indulging in my secret fantasies.

Thanks for your request once again! Yes me being an internet troll, anyways not the best smut I have written I apologise. Okay fuck now I actually need to do justice by releasing a proper Yuna fic . Please send ideas for req on Yuna guys a one time offer that the best idea gets it’s fic written on her.

[spicy30]

Modernness of 1400s 001

Pairing: HOTD x Fem!Modern!Reader

Extra: The reader is noted to be bilingual (Spanish speaking) and is familiar with the majority of Latin-based languages, No use of Y/N

cw: Misinformation, cannon-typical violence

Rating: 13+

Not proofread

WC: 4k

“Yes! I will call you both when I arrive at the airport.” You spoke in a hurried voice excited to leave. It was your first time leaving the country without your parents. Your first trip alone, well not exactly alone. Your best friend was in the car. Saying your final goodbyes you grabbed your three large suitcases and stuffed them in the back while taking one in the front.

“Why did you bring three!? What even is in there?” Your best friend spoke as she was squished to the side.

“Basically all of my clothes and shampoos, soaps, scrubs, sanitary pads, sanitary wipes, toothpaste, y’know all the stuff you need to be clean.” You listed the things on your fingers as you spoke to her.

“You can’t bring liquids on a plane.” She stared at you with a blank stare. “You’re so gonna get stopped by security.”

“If they’re over 100 milliliters. I did my research. You can never be too clean, and you never know when you might need them!” You urged with an exaggerated tone of voice.

“Girl, we’re gone for two weeks, we can buy anything we need once we get there.” She rationalized with you.

“We’re on a budget. Why waste money on useless things when we can simply just take from what we already have, duh!” You rolled your eyes and chewed some gum while smiling then offered her some. Your best friend hummed and shrugged while taking one and popping it in her mouth.

“Anyways, these jeans are gonna be the death of me, I know it. This plane ride is like 10 hours!” Your best friend complained as she unbuttoned her jeans.

“Airport crushes. Gotta look your best.” You spoke as you touched up your makeup and adjusted your sweater. “Anyways, I hope it’s cold on the plane. I hate it when it’s too hot, but just in case I wore this.” You unzipped your sweater showing a cream-colored, halter-style top with a square neckline. “The cold is better because you can always put on more layers, with the heat, only so many layers you can take off.” You hear your best friend hum in agreement.

You watched the world pass you by and the sunset as the music sounded in your ears from your headphones. The car came to a slow stop to pay the highway toll before speeding up again. You looked into the darkness of the night. This bridge that you were crossing was quite long. Deciding to prep ahead of time, you downloaded movies and songs on your phone.

Red lights flashed on your left and you heard a honk. You looked over and saw a semi-truck switching lanes. It was far too close to you. You simply sat still watching as the semi-truck hit the front of the car. There was nothing you could do. Another collision hit you from behind, jerking you forward. Your best friend screamed. You only screamed when the car began swerving closer to the edge of the bridge. The only thing below this bridge is the black ocean.

The car gave a screeching stop as it crashed into the concrete wall. The back of the car hung over the edge. Both you and your best friend were screaming and crying for help, though the driver only quickly unbuckled themselves and got out of the car. Your screaming drowned out anything else as the car hung in the balance. The car door opened on your right and your best friend was helped out by a bystander.

She called your name as the car slipped backward. Acting fast you stuffed your phone in your purse, crawled over your suitcase and finally stepped onto solid ground again. As you tried to walk forward you got stuck. Looking back, your sweater had gotten stuck in the suitcase. In desperation, you pulled, and it pulled the whole suitcase out. However, the suitcase fell over the edge. You heard your name being yelled at as you were yanked backward. You screamed and swiped for anything, your hand only hit the car. As you fell you screamed even louder as you saw the car fall after you, the bright red tail gates chasing after you. It was a long drop, every second you felt as if you would hit the cold black waters. You moved mid-air and curled yourself into a ball before you felt the sharp hit of the cold water.

As you sank down you extended your body swimming upwards, but you felt heavy. Nevertheless, you persevered. Swimming with desperation you felt a cramp in your calf. You groaned as you stopped moving your leg. Looking down, you saw nothing but black, but as you looked back up red lights crashed into you. The blow was hard and the wind was knocked out of you. Reflexively you breathed in, only to swallow water, coughing, and you swallowed more water. You failed your arms trying to get to the surface. Everything burned and you tried to breathe once more, only to take in more water before you finally gave up.

…

Your body jerked to the side and you threw up seawater while crying. More and more water came out and you couldn’t breathe. Every time you tried a water shot from your mouth. Finally, you took a big deep breath in and grabbed on firmly to what seemed to be an armored shoe.

Looking up the sun blinded you, as well as the shine from the armor.

“That’s her…we just found her…when…what…wearing?” Voices came in and out and you flipped back over onto your back letting the sun hit you. You simply breathed, looking up towards the blue sky. You simply laid back trying to refocus, though it didn’t seem to be working. Large dark figures flew in the sky, you didn’t know what they were but you blinked trying to figure it out. As your eyes focused on them, a man stepped in front of you, he was bald with thick white eyebrows and a matching beard.

“Are you…” The words he spoke sounded blurred.

“Huh?” From behind him, a large creature, what seemed like a… well a… a “Dragon?” It was the last thing you spoke before you felt your body give into the exhaustion once more.

…

“Though it is the great hope of the court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survives his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark. As a hand, I speak with the King’s voice on this and all other matters.” All watched as Otto finished his speech and then sat on the Iron Throne much more comfortably than Rheanerya would like. “The crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon.” Otto called upon him and he stepped into the middle of the hall.

“My Queen, my Lord Hand, the noble history of our noble houses extends to the times of Old Valyria.” Vaemond began. “For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Valeryon has ruled the seas. When the doom fell on Valyria, our houses became the last of their kind. Our forebears came to this new land, knowing that were they to fail, it would mean an end to their bloodlines, and their name. I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother's seat. I am Lord Corlys's closest kin, his own blood. The true and impeccable blood runs through my veins.”

“As it does in my sons, the offspring Laenor Valeryon,” Rhaenerya spoke. It would be a cold day in the seven hells before she lets the heritage of her sons be questioned. “If you cared so much about your house's blood Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition.”

“You will have a chance to make your own petition Princess Rhaenerya,” Alicent spoke, a cold look in her eye as she looked at her. “Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing him to be heard.”

Vaemond turned with a mocking smirk. “What do you know of the Velaryon blood princess? I could cut my veins and show it to you and you still wouldn’t recognize it. This is about the future and survival of my house, not yours.” He turned away from the mother of bastards to address Otto once more. “My Queen, my hand, this is a matter of blood, not ambition. I place the continuation of survival and my line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brother’s successor. The Lord of Driftmark, Lord of the tides.”

“Thank you Ser Vaemond,” Otto said, nodding as he acknowledged the claim. “Princess Rheanerya, you may now speak for your son Lucerys Velaryon.”

Rhaenrya stepped forward, annoyed and aggravated with the whole situation. “If I am to grace this farce with some answer, I will start by reminding the court that nearly twenty years ago in this very-” A door opened interrupting her. She turned and saw her father, standing with all the glory, once more coming to protect his heir.

“King Viserys of House Targaryen, the first of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.” Everyone in that room watched as he hobbled down the steps, then to the Throne. Dropping his crown, they watched as his ever loyal brother, Daemon, placed it back on his head.

“I must…admit…my confusion.” Viserys breathed heavily. “I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. The only one present who might offer a kenner insight into Lord Corlys’s wishes is the Princess Rhaenys.” Everyone looked towards her as Viserys spoke.

“Indeed your grace.” Rheanys spoke and she stepped forward. “It was ever my husband's will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor, his trueborn son,” She looked towards the dark haired boy. “Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed, nor did my support of him. As a matter of fact, the Princess Rheanerya has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons Jace and Luke to Lord Corlys’s granddaughter; Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I…heartily agree.”

“Well the matter is settled…again. I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the driftwood throne and the next Lord of the Tides.” As Viserys spoke a scoff broke through Vaemonds lips.

“You break the law.” He spoke to Viserys. “And centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir. Yet you dare tell me who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon.” Vaemond spoke, anger clear in his voice and face.

“No!” A faint yell was heard, but no one paid mind to it.

“No. I will not allow it.” They were words of defiance. He would not let his house fall into ruin because the King was short sighted.

“Allow it?” Viserys spoke, offended that he thought he had a say in the matter. “Do not forget yourself, Vaemond.” The warning was clear.

“That!” Vaemond yelled pointing towards Luke. “Is no true Velaryon and certainly no nephew of mine.”

“Go to your chambers.” Rheanerya spoke, ushering her sons away but they did not move. “You have said enough.” She redirects herself to Vaemond stepping in front of her children.

“Lucerys is my true-born grandson and you are no more than the second son of Driftmark.” Viserys spoke once more. This was treading too close to the line.

“Let go of me!” Another voice yelled, though it was muffled and once again, no one paid it any mind.

“You may run your house as you see fit.” The initiation was clear. “But you will not decide the future of mine! My house survived the doom and a thousand tribulations besides.” He turned back to Rhaenyra. “And gods be damned…” His eyes shifted to Luke. “I will not see it end on the account of this-” Vaemond held his tongue, but just barely.

“Say it.” Daemon whispered, tempting him.

A grim smile bloomed on Vaemonds face as he looked towards Rhaenyra. If no one else had the gaul to say it, he would. “Her children…are BASTARDS!” He yelled for everyone in the Seven Kingdoms to hear.

King Viserys leaned forward. “And she…” Vaemond turned to look towards Viserys with conviction in his eyes. “Is a whore.”

Viserys stood up taking out his knife ready to cut out Vaemond’s tongue himself. “I…will have your tongue for that!”

A sharp slice followed and the top of Vaemond’s head came flying off. “He can keep his tongue.” Daemon said.

“I said unhand me you twats!” Once more the voice sounded, this time, closer, as if behind the doors.

“Disarm him!” Otto yelled, ignoring the yells from behind the door.

“You smell horrid! All of you!” The voice yelled once again and this time everyone turned as the door opened and they watched a woman nearly fall back while she gave a small yelp of surprise.

The sounds of swords unsheathing sound. “Woah!” The woman yelled once more and lifted her hands high in the air. Her accent sounded clear. She was not from here. The court watched the event unfold. Guards surrounded her. “Those look a little too real to be fake so imma need y’all to stay a healthy distance away from me!” They heard her yell, such an informal way of speaking. A common born they all deduced, but why was a common born here in the throne room, why was she even in the Keep at all? However, what most caught the attention of everyone was her clothes. What was she wearing? It looked very inappropriate.

“Listen I don’t know what kinda freaky stuff y’all got goin’ on, but as you can see.” You gestured to yourself and your clothing. “Look at my clothes, and look at yours” Your hands moved sporadically around trying to explain yourself. “Ergo, I am not a part of this … .role playing? Whatever you guys got goin’ here.”

They watched as the woman tried to reason and the guard stepped closer, and she left a high pitched scream. All winced at the volume. “Stop! Please! I’m unarmed!” She yelled. “Look! My hands are up as you can see!” She gave them all a spin and for the first time, the people of the court saw the woman’s face but only for a second. “No weapons. Please put the swords away, I don’t care if they’re fake, they’re a little too real for me and it’s freaking me out!”

“Lay down your swords!” Commanded Viserys and all the men sheaved their swords

“Oh so you listen to the man and not the girl whos been pleading for you to stop? Okay.” You spoke with annoyance. You turned finally taking a look at the court. “Ooh….” You sucked in a breath as you saw the old man in a chair or what looked like to be swords. “Uhh, good make up artist.” You murmmed.

“Step forward girl.” Viserys commanded. You looked around, the men in armor had their sharp eyes trained on your, as if they were hounds waiting to be told to strick.

“Uhhh, I’m a little hesitant to uh move…” You gave an awkward smile.

“They will not harm you, I have told them to stand down.” Viserys spoke once more, a headache become more potent by every moment that passed.

“Okay….” You moved slow making sure to show your every movement and keeping your hands visible. “I’m moving, I’m just moving, no weapons.” You spoke as you slowly walked forward. You didn’t know where you were, but you didn’t want to find out if the props were real or not. It all looked so real, a nice place they had. Their dresses and attires, it was all very surreal. Very nice wigs as well, they almost looked real. A man who had half of his white hair pulled back and the rest down looked at you. You looked down to his sword noticing a red liquid, you stopped right in your tracks.

You pointed at him while your hands remained in the air. “Uhh what about him? I’m seein’ a little…a little red there.” You looked him up and down then back at the rough looking old man who sat the sword?? Throne thingy.

“Daemon.” You watch the white haired man step aside and you gasped and turned around.

“Oh my god!? What? Is! That!?” You yelled your back turned not wanting to look any closer at the…person?? Who was on the floor. “That uh! Thats ummm…. very good props? The anatomy is uh…very good. Wow! Uh yeah… sorry I don’t… I don’t wanna look at that, I have a weak stomach, I can’t even watch animals get killed, I start crying.” You began babling.

“Take him away.” Visery spoke and the silent sisters whisked him away. As you turned you looked around taking in the sights of people. So many white haired ones. Peculiar. You eyes caught one with dark hair and a semi bad haircut, but he was good looking nonetheless. Damn, you hope you didn’t look too rough. Looking to your right, you caught sight of two with white hair.

“Damn.” You whisper wiping the underneath your eyes hoping to take away any mascara that may be running. “Please let me look good right now.” You whispered.

“Is it safe?” You called out no longer hearing the sounds.

“It is.” The old man spoke and you faced him. “Who are you girl and what are you doing here. Commons are not allowed here.”

You made a face at the word commons but rolled your eyes and introduced yourself and gave where you were from. You were met with faces of confusion. You scoffed. “Listen uh, your highness? I don’t know. Can we uh, quit role playing or whatever this is. I- I don’t do that, its not for me. So listen can we be real here for a second? I gave you my country, and my continent. There is no way, you would not know that. Unless…” You looked around and breathed but quickly covered your nose giving a noise of displeasure. “Listen you’re a..what? King? So uh forgive my insolence your highness, but uh…there no way you wouldn’t know unless you all are…uneducated?” All in the court made a face towards you.

You sucked in a breath. Wrong move. Oh well, it is what it is. “Yeah sorry, uh disconnected because uh clearly…y’know your attire, your buildings….the smell, god it’s potent, uh everything it’s just y’know.”

Everyone stared at you in confusion. They had never heard of the place where you claimed to come from. Perhaps it was a place in Essos, of in the Shadowlands beyond Asshai.

“Are you from Essos then?” An old man to your, now left, asked. “What? What is Essos?”

“Are you sure you are not the one who is uneducated.” A voice sounded behind you. You turned swifted to glare at the man who spoke. It was the one with the sword.

“Uh excuse you, I’m not the one who doesn’t the seven continents. Comeone everyone learns those. You don’t know Asia or Africa, what about Europe?” You asked him as he looked at you with an unamused face. “North America? South America? Antarctica? Oceania? No! Exactly, you wanna know how I know? Because of that stu- I’m yelling. I probably shoudln’t be yelling in my position.” You caught yourself and turned around to face their king.

“But come on Essos?” You scoffed. “Listen I may not be the best at geography, but,” The words got stuck in your throat and you sighed out a breath of defeat. “You wanna give me a hint where it’s at?” You heard a scoff behind you and your eye twitched and you smile became forced.

“It’s in the name.” The man behind you —Daemon they called him— spoke once again and you scoff. “What East?” You smiled as the white haired woman to your right gave no signs of a smile. You smile fell from your face. “What? Seriously? What do you call the West?” You laughed. “Western Land? What about the South? Southlandia?” You give another laugh.

“You’re is Westeros.” The old man on your left said.

“What kind of- Okay,” You murmured. “And South?”

“Sothoryos.” He said once again. You face morphed into an approving expresson. “That one is actually not bad. Sounds really actually cool. Okay North?”

“We don’t have a North, it’s part of Westeros.” Once more he answer your question and you nodded turned to him and pointing. “So Westeros leads to the polar icecaps?”

He furrowed his brows. You made a sound of understanding. “Ah I see, you haven’t discovered them yet. So no South pole or North pole. Okay. These are your continents? Okay…so I’m gonna assume Essos is just Asia, this seems a lot like the UK, England? The accents match, or maybe Ireland? No…I think imma stick with England. Okay so I’m in England.”

“As my uncle said…you seem to be the one who is uneducated.” A male voice rings out, and the one with the eyepatch has an aggravating smirk.

“Excuse me? You try getting into a car crash, falling off a bridge because a damned suitcase, wake up in who knows where and figure out where you are. Might I add after not being told common continents.” You looked him up and down. A shame he was good looking, well as one can be with an eye patch. Him opening his mouth really just ruined him. “Tell me, if you, I don’t know, what do you guys have here? Carriages? Do you guys have bridges? Probably not as big as the one I fell from. Have you ever fallen say 200 hundred feet or… sorry uh…. 60 meters? Thats what you guys use right? Well say you fall from 60 meters, into water, drown, then wake up on a beach not knowing where you are or who anyone is. If you fell from that hight and landed on say…oh I don’t any island on Micronesia. Do you know what or even where Micronesia is?” You tilted your head. “No? Well…I think I’ve made my point.”

“You speak to a Prince girl” The King spoke and you turned to him then back towards the one eye man who seemed a bit shocked that his father would come to his rescue.

“Thats your son? My apologies. Is every white haired person here your child?” You asked but the King suddenly let our a groan. The woman in the green dress ran to him.

‘His wife? No? She’s too young. Are those her kids? No…she’s too young…right?’ The thoughts raced in your mind.

“Get the Maesters!” The woman yelled.

‘Maesters? Masters? Weird accents, definitely in the UK.’ You looked around standing there unsure of what to do.

“Get him milk of the poppy, and the get the leaches!” The Maester called.

“Milk of the poppy? Opioids!? Well I mean, I suppose it's common, but um, as long as he doesn’t get addicted to it.” As you spoke the white-haired woman looked back at you with an expression you couldn’t quite describe. “Did you know, there are only two drugs that can kill you if you just quit them? Opioids, which is what your ‘milk’ is, and alcohol funny enough. Once your body becomes dependent on it, or in other words, you get addicted, if it is ripped away from the addict. Your body will go into shock, thus killing the addict. Just a little fun fact to think about if you feed him that stuff every day.” As you spoke the room became silent as men in white clothing came and grabbed the King. From your left, you heard a scoff.

“You think you know more than the Maesters?” The old man asked once again.

“Well…if my ears do not mislead me and I heard you still do leaching, or bloodletting. Then I think I just might.” You smiled and shrugged at him. “If anything, you’re doing more harm than good. While leeches can be used in other ways that would be beneficial, this is not one of the ways. You’re idea of leaching and blood letting comes from the notion of bad blood or good blood right? Something along those lines.” As you spoke the Maester stopped and let go of the King and another took his place walking him down the Throne. Everyone was looking at you and the sounds of the King.

“Well, there's no such thing as bad blood or good blood. What there is in the body is something called bacteria. It's on a microscopic level, don’t think you’ve discovered it yet, that's okay. Misinformation is common these days. Well in any case, when you bleed the patient, I’m pretty sure you deprive them of white blood cells and then force the body to focus on the cut instead of the actual issue that the body is facing. White blood cells are kind of like the fighters, they fight off the bad bacteria.” You continued. “Well it might not be exactly because of that reason, but it's one of the many reasons why it doesn’t work.”

“Well if there are these ‘white blood cells’ as you call them why isn’t our blood white?” The Maester asked. He had a smug expression on his face.

“Well, there is white blood and red blood cells. Also as I said, it is on a microscopic level. It’s not visible to the naked eye. They’re very very very very small. Also, there is a chemical reaction that makes blood red.” You answered with a smug smile of your own.

“How much do you know of medicine?” The white-haired woman asked.

“More than him it would seem.” You gave a blank smile.

“Would you be able to cure him? My father, the King.” The woman, who was a princess asked once more with a pointed look.

“Uh I’d have to take a look at him. Can’t make any promises.” You spoke and she nodded walking away and you stood still unsure of what to do. You looked over to the boy with the bad hair cut and gave a smile. He gave you a small curt one in return before following the Princess. The the seconds dark haired boy left. You turned to look at the man with the eye-patch and what you assume are his siblings or cousins.

The shuffling of feet stop and you look towards the Princess who looks at you with an expectant look. “Oh! Oh! Right, sorry!” You turned back, they were royalty, it felt wrong to just leave, but you didn’t know what to do. “Um, bye.” You said in a small voice giving a small bow before turn and giving a small run to catch up to the Princess.

Next I Masterlist

Note: This is self-indulgence and I'm not gonna research anything trying to make it as real as I can. If an average person was just randomly there.

To be added on Tag list: !(•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

[un1ver53]

Stream with me? - DUKE DENNIS ONESHOT

Fluff 💗

1400+ words

I don’t think the title really goes with the story but whatevs 😭😭

This is my first ever one shot so pls be nice 😞💗, I would love feedback tho!!

•••••••

Scrolling through the never-ending posts on TikTok, your attention span decreases every second, and your mind starts to wander off, wondering what your boyfriend of three years was doing. As if the universe was listening, a notification pops up at the top of your phone, notifying you that Duke on Twitch started to stream. A smile displays on your face and you start to watch his stream.

"Wassup my n***as, how are yall?" (I've never watched any of his streams before, so sorry if it's completely wrong 🥲) Duke says smiling at all the viewers flooding in commenting greetings back to him.

• • •

You continue to watch him for a while watching him laugh along with the viewers and his friends, reacting to random songs and videos. He then reads a comment that one of his fans wrote;

“ ‘Is Y/N joining the stream?’ Y/N ain’t at the crib right now n***gas, she was doing some photoshoots, and bruh they take long as hell, so she probably crashed at her place and is taking a long fat ass nap,” Duke replies smiling mentioning you, showing his 15k grills off.

His fans knew about you ever since Kai accidentally revealed to his stream that you and Duke were dating a few months in the relationship.

Flashback

Duke was in Kai’s room streaming with Kai on his friend's Twitch. They were playing games that their fans had suggested but Duke began to get distracted by his phone pinging with messages from you, asking when he was going to be done so he could go upstairs and cuddle. The fans noticed the taller one was distracted and heard his phone, so they did what fans do best and began to troll and joke around asking him to tell his girl they said hi etc.

Kai was oblivious that the chat was joking and that they didn’t know whether his best friend had a girl or not and asked “Wait they know? When did you tell them you were dating Y/N?”

Duke was shocked that his 5’7 friend just outed him like that and he pushed him lightly shouting “N***A THEY DIDN’T KNOW!”

You, Y/N Y/L/N the highest-paid model, who is known for her struts on the Victoria's Secret Runways. You work with lots of big and bougie brands, such as Gucci, Hermes etc.

You’ve been friends with Kai for a long time now, and he even introduced you to Duke which kindled the relationship you now have with the 6’6 giant, and you could never stop being grateful.

They both began to laugh uncontrollably knowing that Kai was going to get a scolding from you after the stream ended. After a few minutes, they calmed down and remained composure, Duke began to answer a few of the million questions he was being asked.

“ ‘How long have you guys been fuckin?’ Nahhh you n***gas are weird bruh,” he replied laughing.

“ ‘Is it THE Y/N??’ Uhmmm bro I don’t know,” he says laughing but then Kai confirms it, “YES IT THEEE Y/N, he’s the rizzler god but bruh how did n***ga pull THE Y/N!”

Duke laughs loudly and pushes Kai off his chair but also somewhat agrees. He didn’t know how he pulled you, but he is making sure that he keeps you forever as his.

After the stream, Duke makes his way up to his bedroom to find you and Kai is following him. Duke finds you and lets Kai in the room so he can apologise.

“Y/N I’m sorry I accidentally outed you and Duke on the stream today,” Kai says looking down and apologising.

“Don’t worry Kai I was watching the stream when you did it, but you made up for yourself because of the comment you made about how you didn’t know how Duke pulled me,” You say giggling and getting up to hug him before walking up to Duke.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and you both leaned in, connecting your lips. Duke tried to deepen the kiss, but you remembered that Kai was in the room so you separated from him and gave him a peck on the cheek.

“So what should we do baby?” You asked Duke looking up at him.

He smiled at the cute face he was in love with, “We don’t need to do anything but since it’s out then we should probably formally announce that we are dating on our Instagrams, and maybe you can hop on a stream with me?”

I agree and we both do it with Kai’s input, as he outed us so he might as well help us with the rest. After the announcement, fans began to flood the comment sections with both love and hate but you didn’t care, you only needed Duke and he only needed you. After the Instagram posts, you went on a stream with Duke answering fans' questions and they began to love you even more, where sometimes they would just ask for you to come on the stream as he opened the live-up.

Flashback ended

Duke messages you asking if you are up and want to go and stay the night at his. You quickly replied and accepted the offer. You look over at his stream and you can see him smiling to himself from your message which makes you giggle to yourself knowing that he still smiles and gets happy that you stay over at his.

Once you get to the infamous AMP mansion, you unlock the door with the key that Duke gave you, since he and even the rest of the AMP trusts you to have and keep. You go upstairs to his bedroom and knock then open the door to him streaming to millions of his fans. He quickly notices that it’s you and gets up not caring about the stream and hugs you, grabbing your ass as his lips connect to yours making you groan. He begins to deepen the kiss forgetting that his fans all over the world could see his back towards them but know that you both are possibly exchanging saliva. A loud AI voice speaks out from a fan donating 5 dollars and comments speaking out “Damn Duke I didn’t know you did it like dat”

That comment makes you disconnect your lips quickly and laugh. Duke takes your bag and puts it on the bed before he sits on his gaming chair and then lets you sit on his lap. He wraps his hands around your waist holding you tight making sure you are comfortable.

“You wanna stream with me?” He whispers in your ear but you’re sure his fans could still hear his deep voice.

Blushing, your mind wandered off to how he whispered different things in your ear last weekend.

You begin to read off comments and then see his viewer count drastically increase from 1.3 million to 5 million. You gasp showing Duke and he chuckles lowly “Damn mamas I should have you on my stream more since n***gas only come to see you.”

You blush and read off a comment that says ‘When is Y/N going to make her own Twitch?’

“I don’t think I’ll ever start streaming on my own, but I will continue to bombard Duke’s streams now and then,” I reply smiling up at the camera and Duke.

“Mamas I mean if you start a Twitch, it’ll probably go viral overnight I mean look at all the n***gas that came just because you popped in,” Duke says slowly rubbing your thigh as he gives you eye contact. You smile and wrap your arm around the back of his neck so you’re side-hugging him.

You read another comment which says ‘So when is the proposal happening?’

You chuckle and then look at your man, “Yeah baby! When are you putting a rock on my hand?”

He smiled brightly, his grills shining in the light, “Oh mamas just you wait and see,”

You immediately start giggling and blushing, hiding your face in the crook of his tatted neck. He chuckles finding you the cutest and he smiles to himself knowing that his future wife is sitting on his lap right now.

After an hour of streaming together, Duke ends the stream and lifts you taking you to his bed. He lays down next to you, admiring your face which millions all over the world wish they had. He smiles and brings you closer to him, putting his hand on the back of your neck, and passionately kissing your lips deeply. You then disconnect to gather some air and lay on top of him. He starts to play with your soft hair, “Mamas I’m definitely marrying you and giving you all my kids,”

“I would love that,” You smile blushing.

•••

[gargyshmub]

DELTARUNE; Gargy's Fairytale Theory

So, lately I've kind of had an itch in the back of my mind about DELTARUNE, more specifically the secret or hidden bosses in the game and a little correlation they all share. I'll try to keep this under 100 pages but i promise nothing (tee hee hee)

If you've played the game to the extent you're looking at a tumblr blog dedicated to it, you're probably familiar with the character's jevil and spamton. These are the two characters coined by the community as "secret bosses", since you have to stray away from the games intended path to find them (in most cases.)

When you defeat spamton in his 'NEO form', a neat little song will play with his dialogue "a real boy!", this is a nod to the fable/fairytale "pinochio" I'm sure everyone's familiar with. It's a story about a doll that comes to life in search of becoming 'a real boy'. This corrilation made me realize there are A LOT of similarity's between pinochio and spamton. The strings, his regular form being a mockup of a doll, even his goal to become "big", its almost like becoming a 'real boy'. He knows he's not 'real', and just like at the end of pinochio, he too becomes renewed (reneo'd).

This made me wonder if the other secret boss, Jevil, represented something other than the Joker card. Then I realized whenever he was hit in his fat empty head it actually sprung out like a jack-in-the-box. I initially discarded this since it wasn't really a fable or fairy-tale, but if you do some digging you'll find it actually is!!!@! back in the 1400's somewhat, the jack in the box was originally named 'The Devil in the Box', essentially it's a story about a man who trapped a devil in a boot in order to save a village in france at the time, kinda like that one story about the court jester who got locked away by his magician friend in order to save their kingdom (haha. hahahahha. thats from deltarune. hahaha.) just to run home my point, jack-in-the-box; Devil in the box. Jack; Devil. What way could you fuse them together? Dack? Jackil? maybe some other 3rd way that has some importance to Yea thats right you know you've always known its Jevil.

Obviously, in deltarune fashion, its easy to overthink most elements in the story. Granted, toby will make an entire 2nd game about a hypothetical character you've never met but no you've only ever POSSIBLY met through a 1/100 chance door where he'll show you his asshole and then disappear into a million pieces, but yea, it's easy to make certain correlations that aren't even really there. In this case however I'd say that there's one more correlation that seals the deal that makes this theory WORTH theorizing.

Yea gaster. even though he's not even technically a character yet, every piece of information regarding him seems to lead people to believe he's not only the narrator at the beginning of the game, but he's also the 'man' behind the tree (since the way you find 'his sprite' in undertale is almost exactly similar ['theres a room in-between, theres a room, in-between']). I'm assuming you know what there is to know about gaster so im not gonna go into it, so onto the correlation.

I've read before someone talking about how gaster represents easter eggs in video games, not only physically (egghead) but metaphorically (the way you find him, his implied involvment with the secret bosses, the fact he gives you an '''''EGG''''' when you DO find him). Well if he is technically involved with the secret bosses, wouldn't that make him a fable too? I'm here to tell you he is. he is HUMPTY DUMPTY from SECOND GRADE FAIRY TALE PLAY.

I've already gone over his physical and metaphorical symbolism relating to eggs, but the story of humpty dumpty is also very, haha, hahahaha, hahahhahahaha

Humpty dumpty sat on a wall (The Core)

Humpty dumpty took a big fall ("Fell into his own creation")

All the kings horses and all the kings men (Who did gaster work for again?)

Couldn't put Humpty together again ("He was shattered across time and space")

What could this mean? for the future it means that if this theory is right, EVERY secret boss we meet is gonna represent not only a lightworld object, but an actual FAIRTY TALE, a FABLE. I mean, how many fables are out there. I know theres one in particular, one that the game is named after, one that has to do with an ANGEL. an ''''ANGEL'''' with ''''TATTERED WINGS''''''.

but then again idk

EDIT: ALSO LITTLE MISS MUFFET THINK ABOUT THAT UNDER-HEADS LITTLE MISS MUFFET SAT ON HER TUFFET

Last edit: also this has no grounds as an actual theory but uhhh that mf that made the Undertale RED boss fight got hired on the team. Huh. I wonder what Red was a reference to. Huh.

[aziraphales-library]

hi!! first off, thank you for all you do! the organization of this account is quite literally my saving grace!! i was curious if there were any fics relating to Queen? like a favorite headcanon is that crowley sat with freddie mercury and talking endlessly about aziraphale and that’s how “good old fashioned lover boy” came about! have you heard of anything like this??

We have a #queen tag with several posts full of fics like this. Please check that out.

Here are some more fics that explore Crowley and Freddie Mercury's friendship.

Crowley and Freddie by rubylaurus [rated T, 3900 words]

A glimpse into Crowley’s friendship with one of his favorite humans, a dissection of Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy, and slight dip into the existentialism faced by immortal beings on a mortal earth.

Till the end of time, my Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy by nagitoscockfullofhope [rated G, 1300 words]

Freddie and Crowley are friends. One rant leads to the making of the song Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy.

“Maybe. I mean he asked me to dine at the Ritz with him tonight, we’ve done it a couple times in the past but not a lot recently. He also asked me to go on a picnic with him some time!” Crowley smiled fondly, thinking about Aziraphale now.

“Dinning at the Ritz? That sounds pretty romantic."

December 30th, 1976 by FandomFighter [rated M, 1400 words]

The story behind the song 'Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy.'

On The Road by MagnetoTheMagnificent [NR, 791 words]

Why the Bentley only plays Queen, and why it makes Crowley cry

I do hope you enjoy these.

[moralesmilesanhour]

lil' baby crush

summary: gwen pays miles a visit and gets him to go to one(1) college party. wc: ~1400 a/n: this isn't canon-compliant in that gwen is gay and miles is bisexual here. he's like the 'damn nobody want u fr' 'im sayin like!' image. enjoy!

Miles sighed and sunk down into his chair, the blue light from his laptop illuminating his face. He was currently the only one occupying the shared dorm room, working on an essay that wasn’t due until next month while his roommate was out doing…whatever he was doing. 

Partying, probably.

Despite what he’d often told his parents to explain his sudden disappearances, Miles didn’t really do parties. 

He’d had a taste of them in the form of school dances at Brooklyn Middle: you get there, maybe talk to your friends a little, then stand around trying to figure out how, when, and for how long to dance while the same ten songs rattle your eardrums. 

If he wanted to blast his ears with music for several hours straight, he figured that’s what his trusty bass-boosted headphones at home were for. No complex social ballet required. Even better, he could choose the playlist. 

But it sure made for some boring-ass Friday nights.

Miles got up and rolled his shoulders, fully prepared to go lie in bed for another hour, when he caught a familiar golden light flash across his window. He grinned to himself, wondering which member of what Hobie had affectionately called ‘the Spider-band’ had swung by for a visit.

Tap, tap, tap.

Gwen’s white mask appeared in the frame. She waved as Miles padded over to the window and pushed it open wide enough for her to climb through. Just as her muddy converses were about to touch the floor, he raised an eyebrow.

“Gwanda, you know better.”

“Right, forgot about that,” Gwen laughed, kicking them off. “Old habits, y’know?”

Miles shook his head and grinned.

“So, how’s the thing with MJ going?”

Gwen removed her mask, revealing shoulder-length blonde hair. It fell in choppy layers, and she had replaced the soft pink dye at the tips with a fiery orange.

"Well, it's…going."

Miles crossed his arms.

"Gwen…You did talk to her, right?"

"Y-yeah! I spoke to her," Gwen gnawed at her bottom lip before mumbling, "Once. On the subway."

"Absolutely tragic," he exclaimed dramatically as he fell back on his bed. "My best friend has absolutely no game!"

"Oh, you're one to talk! You think I forgot about 'the shoulder touch'?"

Miles sat straight up.

"I thought we agreed to never speak of that again."

"Just saying," Gwen hopped off of the window sill and sat at Miles' desk. "Enough about me, though. How's campus life? You get wasted at any parties yet?"

Miles shrugged.

"I got invited to one nearby that's supposed to be tonight, but I stayed back. No club meetings this week, either, so…"

Her eyes widened.

"So you're just sitting here?"

"I'm being productive," he corrected, pointing to his laptop. "See? I'm half-way done with that essay, I could probably turn it in a week early."

"Miles."

"What? I'm chilling, Gwen, seriously! Just me and my, uh…" Miles glanced at his bookshelf. "...crossword puzzles."

Gwen stood resolutely, already having made a decision in her head.

"Pick an outfit, we're going to that party."

"Whoah, whoah, wait, hold on–"

Miles hopped to his feet as she threw open his closet and began rummaging through it. 

"Since when do you wear sweater vests?"

She held up several hangers with sweater vests of various colors.

"I wanted to look distinguished…?"

"Nerd," she snorted. "Oh, this bomber jacket looks sick! Feel like going out with it?"

Miles laughed, "Something tells me I don't have much of a choice."

"Correct," Gwen smirked, tossing the jacket at him. "I’m gonna have to borrow one of these hoodies."

-

After a twenty-minute walk (Miles didn’t want to risk swinging), the two stopped in front of a run-down apartment building. Loud music and spinning lights from mini disco balls spilled out of the windows.

"This is it," Miles breathed. "If my first party sucks or gets raided by the cops, I'm never speaking to you again."

"Never know until you try," Gwen replied. "Shall we?"

The place was already packed. There was a lively beer pong game happening in the kitchen, while a pack of students were strung along the walls in the living room puffing clouds of marijuana smoke into the air. The group in the middle of the room, of course, was dancing. Or something that closely resembled dancing.

Miles glanced across the room, scanning the sea of swaying bodies when he noticed one lounging on the couch.

The figure was staring down into a red solo cup, a full head of blonde, ear-length dreads obscuring half of his face until he looked up. 

In a devastating miscalculation, Miles let himself stare a little longer until he realized that their eyes had met. He froze, as if the stranger’s dark eyes kept him in place.

Gwen followed his line of vision. She’d seen that look on Miles’ face before: once when they first met at Visions, and again when Hobie had invited them to a concert and she’d caught Miles ogling the bassist. 

She grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. 

"I'll be by the speakers. Go get 'em, tiger."

Despite his sneakers feeling like they were made of concrete, he took a step forward, then another, keeping his eyes on his target all the while. 

The other boy tilted his head in amusement. 

"Um," Miles began, "I-Is this spot taken?"

"Well, I'm sitting in it, so…"

Real smooth, Miles.

"No! I mean, like, next to you–"

The boy’s eyes became crescent moons as he burst into laughter.

"Relax, I know what you meant. Spot's free," he gestured towards the empty area on the couch to his right.

"O-oh, cool. Thanks," Miles laughed awkwardly. The couch sank beneath him when he sat down.

How the fuck do you flirt with dudes?

He could barely fumble his way through flirting with women, riding almost entirely on them finding his utter lack of game endearing. Now here he was, glancing back and forth between the stranger and a wall.

"Yo, you want a drink?" The boy asked, snapping Miles out of his thoughts. "You look like you need one."

He was probably right.

"Sure, I don't mind."

He rose to his feet, revealing more of his outfit: an oversized black tee layered over a white shirt, with a red kilt draped over a pair of dark wash jeans. A real Jaden Smith type, it seemed. But maybe Miles was into that. 

It wasn't long before he returned with a second solo cup, which he pushed into Miles' hand. 

"So," he asked with a grunt as he sat, "Why you not dancin'?"

Miles snorted, and shook his head.

"I don't dance. Was never too good at it."

"Ah, but is the point of dancing to be good at it?"

"Don't get philosophical with me now, I'm a STEM major," Miles grinned, then took a sip of whatever was in his cup. 

He tried his best to hide his disdain for the brown liquid, but the grimace on his face made it evident. "I didn't catch your name, by the way."

"Call me TJ."

"That's a cute name–I mean, a nice name," Miles winced at himself. "A very…normal name."

TJ laughed, revealing a gap-toothed smile that made Miles' chest swell. "Thanks. Yours?"

"Miles. Miles Morales."

"I think your name's cuter. Bonus points for alliteration."

Miles felt heat rushing up to his ears and cheeks. He hadn't had enough to drink for him to blame it on that. 

"So, why aren't you dancing?" He asked, changing the subject.

TJ shrugged. 

"I prefer to people-watch."

"Oh, so when you do it, it's 'people-watching'," Miles made air quotes with his fingers. "I see how you move."

"And yet here you are, talking to me anyway. No idea why you chose me to sit next to, by the way. It's hella empty seats."

Miles bit his lip. 

"I…didn't come over here just to find a seat, actually." 

TJ raised a bleached eyebrow. 

"So what did you come here for? Clearly not to get high, your pupils look normal."

Miles took a deep breath, his heartbeat louder in his ears than the music.

"You, um…You're…"

Holy shit, just say something!

"Do you like boys? I'm not asking for a friend."

Oh my god. Not like that.

TJ blinked, then a smirk began to spread across his face as he came to a realization. 

"Why, yes. Yes I do. You wanna get outta here? I know a place with actual food."

Miles let out a breathy laugh.

"You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that."

"I think I have some idea. You're sweating."

Before he could respond, Miles felt his phone vibrate in his jacket. It was Gwen.

-gwanda: finally!!

-gwanda: if u don’t get his number im gonna be so mad at u. be back by midnight!!

He rolled his eyes.

-miles: ok mom

Miles shut off his phone and rose to his feet, as TJ had already done. He took a deep breath.

“Shall we?”

[iwannascreameurekaa]

I did say I would post something about junior years 13th chapter but I totally forgot but (for me) I have roughly 20 minutes until Wednesday begins so eh good enough

we are now in the healing age (arc? Ooohh I like arcs ima call it an arc) we are in the healing arc of wills story. Nico is somewhat right along with him I will probably write a little more for him before I let him move forward or whatever and I will try to finish pipers spin off (Girl Alone, yes I changed the title. Yes it's another mother mother song fight me) before i write her healing arc! Hazel and Jason haven't had much chapters for themselves yet so I will need to flesh them out before writing theirs. Leo is a weird in between I think ill write maybe one or two more chapters of him before I'm satisfied with bombing their lives

also the 13th chapter is short asf it's only about 1400 words sorry

it will be posted around 6/7 am CST (for the US) on Wednesday !

Edit: guys why am I the only one to post on the pipahazel since 2017 🙁 I'm sorry TWO THOUSAND SEVENTEEN????? I'm the only one to post in SEVEN YEARS??? My jaw has been effectively dropped 😭

another edit: holy moly I tried to scroll and well I couldn't! There are only two posts in piphazel apparently AND I AN ONE OF THEM y'all have been sleeping on this ship and I'm going to convert all of you

[hpcestfest]

HP Cest Fest 2024: Week 1 ☕️

Please enjoy Week 1 of our Fest's fantastic collection of creative works!

☕️ Week 1 Cest Stats

🖤 Blackcest (5)

💚 Malfoycest (4)

💙 Othercest (3)

🧡 Weasleycest (2)

❤️ Pottercest (1)

💛 Pseudocest (1)

☕️ Week 1 Fanworks ⤵️

📖 A Beach Day for Draco | E | 1400 💚 Draco Malfoy/Lucius Malfoy

Lucius takes Draco to the beach, and in urgency finds something more pleasurable than his feet buried in the cool sand.

📖 before it gets better, the darkness gets bigger | E | 2400 🖤 Regulus Black/Sirius Black/Orion Black/Walburga Black

They'd fucked in the study plenty of times- but this time they made a mistake. A critical mistake. And they were paying the price of getting caught now. Or Fun (not really) with a speculum and rape as punishment for getting caught fucking in Orion's study.

📖 D.B.C.C.H. | E | 6400 🧡 Ginny Weasley/Charlie Weasley, Ginny Weasley/Other Weasley(s)

Charlie gifts Ginny a diary for her birthday. She’ll probably use it for something wicked, because that’s what diaries are for… right?

📖 eye for eye, hand for hand | M | 3700 💙 Astoria Greengrass/Daphne Greengrass

Daphne would do anything to cure her sister’s Blood Curse.

📖 His Father Will Hear About This | E | 3000 💚 Draco Malfoy/Lucius Malfoy

All Draco has ever wanted is to hear his father say he’s proud of him. He just never thought he would have to take things this far to manage it.

🎨 it was nightmare times | E | Digital Art 💚 Draco Malfoy/Lucius Malfoy

Prompt: Harry Potter had been captured. Bound and gagged, he is thrown at Lucius' feet. Yes, the Dark Lord was giving Lucius the assignment of breaking in the boy who lived to redeem himself. Lucius would not fail. Or Lucius unknowingly rapes his polyjuiced son in front of everyone.

📖 look, listen, learn | E | 2000 🖤 Sirius Black/Draco Malfoy

Draco was perfect. Blond and tiny, blushed pink at the cheeks like a china doll, and with delicate, posable limbs to match. When he looked up at Sirius with those big, grey eyes, Regulus's eyes, Sirius knew he could never leave. Draco was too lovely—especially with his mouth occupied.

📖 Morning Glory | E | 8600 🖤 Regulus Black/Sirius Black/Remus Lupin/James Potter

Sirius gazed at him through an inebriated fog, Regulus was sure. But still, he looked. Oh, fuck, the way he looked— Sleep silken and sweetly wanting. Almost pleading with his eyes, while the hand on Regulus’s side strayed. Slid. And what did Regulus care if he didn’t see him when he looked? He was used to that. At least Sirius was looking like he liked - wanted - craved - what he saw.

📖 new dog, old tricks | E | 2300 🖤 Sirius Black/Draco Malfoy

Draco catches Sirius skulking around Hogwarts—he promises to keep quiet on one condition. He wants his cousin to fuck him as Snuffles.

📖🎨 Right Place, Wrong Time | X | 3400 | Digital Art 🧡 Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley/George Weasley

It doesn’t seem to matter what they do, they’re always one step behind their younger brother. But what if Hermione were to take the first step for once?

📖 Tense and Release | E | 6300 ❤️ Harry Potter/James Sirius Potter

“I passed, I fucking passed!” I yell the instant I step out of the Floo, my exam results clutched in my hand. I very nearly step on Dad, who, bizarrely, is sprawled on his back on the floor in front of the fireplace. “Of course you did…never doubted for a second that you wouldn’t,” Dad says. He sounds…different. Floaty—kind of similar to the sing-song way Aunt Luna talks. I take in the scene: Dad’s gazing up at me with a lazy smile and heavy-lidded eyes, wearing nothing but his boxers. Then I see what’s on the coffee table and put two and two together. He’s high.

📖 territoriality | M | 1600 🖤 Marius Black/Dorea Black Potter

Issues that happen outside the house were with their father. Issues that happen inside the house were with their mother - and, holding Dorea’s hand tightly, Marius knocked on the door to their mother’s study.

📖 The Grotto | E | 2700 💙 Colin Creevey/Dennis Creevey

Colin takes his brother and his camera on a hike one Hogsmeade weekend.

📖 The King of Underworld and his Queen | T | 1100 💙 Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort

Greek Mythology AU. Tom traced the carvings of his throne with his finger. Aberforth had his queen and Albus had married the other of their sisters, Minerva, and made her queen of the Gods. Maybe Tom could have had his own queen as well.

📖 The Perks of Being a Malfoy | E | 3500 💚 Scorpius Malfoy/Draco Malfoy/Lucius Malfoy/Abraxas Malfoy

“For you, Daddy,” Scorpius breathed out robotically. Draco licked his canines, smile broadening; of course the feast stood before him was for him, it was his turn.

📖 Written in the stars | E | 11,100 💛 Sirius Black/James Potter

They weren’t related by blood, but oh they were definitely brothers. They tasted like it. ----------- At age five, Sirius Black is adopted by the Potters and little James Potter gains a brother. They grow up inseparable, always at each others' side, but their obsession with each other takes a not-so-innocent turn once they reach puberty.

[ro-is-struggling]

I'm Not in Love || Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary: You are not in love with Stephen Strange, he is insufferable and does nothing but get on your nerves every time he opens his mouth. So why do you feel some type of way every time he mentions Christine’s name?

Warnings: enemies to lovers, love confessions, teasing, fluff 

English is not my first language

Word count: 1400

Based on the song lyric prompt 9: “I'm not in love // So don't forget it // It's just a silly phase I'm going through” (I’m Not in Love by 10cc) from my 600 FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION prompt list

'Just admit it, you're in love with Stephen Strange.'

The words of your friend Wanda echoed in your head since she had spoken them hours ago. It was ridiculous, you hated Stephen. He was arrogant, pretentious and a control freak who drove you crazy from the moment you had arrived at the Sanctum Sanctorum to learn how to handle your powers. He had a horrible personality and you hated everything about him. He brought out the worst in you and you brought out the worst in him, something that led you to spend most of your time fighting. 

You couldn't be in the same room together for more than ten minutes without ending up arguing about the stupidest things. Something about him awakened in you a need to contradict him on everything, even when you knew he was right. You couldn't help it, you hated to see the arrogant smile he seemed to have permanently drawn on his face when he talked to you. You hated him. He hated you. You both hated each other and if it wasn't for Wong you would have left that place a long time ago. 

Wanda's words made no sense, you were sure of it. You could never fall in love with someone like Strange, how could you when you were barely able to spend a few minutes with him without wanting to murder him? It was a stupid idea and Wanda was just saying it to annoy you. 

But then you saw him with her. 

Christine Palmer was everything you were not. She was smart, successful, charismatic, beautiful, and most of all, she was able to hold a conversation with Stephen for more than five minutes. She was the love of his life, you could tell by the way he looked at her. He missed her and regretted every day for letting her go. He still loved her and for some reason that made you feel weird. A lump formed in your throat every time you saw them together and you couldn't bear to listen to Stephen talk about her for too long, the admiration in his voice making your blood boil. 

And then it hit you. 

"No!" you exclaimed aloud in the solitude of your room. "Nonono! This can't be happening." You were panicking, pacing back and forth in your room as you desperately tried to find another explanation for what you were feeling. It wasn't jealousy. You weren't in love with him. He was an arrogant jerk and you couldn't stand him.

"I'm just... sad because no one will ever love me the way he loves her. Yes! That's it!" You tried to reason. Sure, you had been single for a long time and craved love, and in a way seeing the way Stephen looked at Christine made you think that you had never known a love like that, but that wasn't the reason behind your feelings. You weren't sad when you saw them together, you were jealous. Jealous that he didn't look at you that way. Jealous that you couldn't go more than five minutes without wanting to tear each other's heads off. Jealous that Stephen never saw you as anything more than an annoying apprentice who thought she was bigger than she was.

"No! I'm not in love," you asserted looking at yourself in the mirror, your eyes daring your reflection to contradict you. "It's just a stupid phase I'm going through. I'll be back to normal in no time. I'm not in love with Stephen Strange!"

Just as you finished saying those words a knock on your door caught your attention. When you turned around you found Stephen's figure leaning against the door frame, looking at you curiously. Your heart dropped and embarrassment came over you as you pleaded with the universe that he hadn't heard anything.

"You're late for practice," he said in his usual monotone voice and you breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't heard anything, if he had he would have mentioned it by now. You knew he would never waste an opportunity to annoy you like that.

But then you saw a mischievous smile creeping across his lips and your heart began to beat rapidly against your chest.

"What were you doing here?" Stephen asked, though you both knew he already knew the answer.

"Nothing! I'll be right down," you replied quickly, trying to kick him out of your room before he had a chance to humiliate you.

"Really?" he said, walking into your room. It was obvious he didn't believe a word that came out of your mouth. He knew the truth, but you would never admit it to him. You refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much power he had over you. "I could have sworn you were saying my name."

"No! No I was not." You sounded pathetic, your voice was trembling and you were using a higher pitch than normal. Anyone who knew you a little would know you were lying, but you refused to tell the truth. That was exactly what Strange wanted and you weren't going to indulge him.

Stephen took a step toward you and you instinctively backed away. He paused for a moment, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. You looked like a deer caught in the headlights, your big eyes watching him cautiously as your brain scrambled to come up with an escape plan. But he wasn't planning to let you escape. He was tired of the tension between you and it was time to do something about it.

"Why won't you admit it?" he spoke in a deep, seductive voice that awakened a tingle inside you. He continued walking towards you and for every step he took forward you took a step back. You needed to keep some distance between you if you intended to maintain your composure. But then your back hit the hard wall and you knew you were screwed. 

"There's nothing to admit," you said, clearing your throat to make sure your voice came out steady and clear. You were lying through your teeth and they both knew it, but you weren't about to give in. 

Stephen looked at you, his deep blue eyes inspecting your face closely. He was too close to you and it was starting to get to you. You could feel his warm breath crashing against your face, your noses almost brushing together. You felt self-conscious under his gaze, but at the same time you couldn't take your eyes off him. You were completely frozen in place, admiring the perfect angles of his face as you waited for his next move. 

"Is that so?" he said in disbelief. His eyes drifted down to your lips, pausing on them for a few seconds. He looked at you as if he wanted to devour you and you had to bite your tongue to keep from letting out a moan. "And what if I told you that I really wanted to kiss you? What would you do then?" 

"I don't know" you feigned innocence, feeling a wave of confidence momentarily wash over you. "I guess you'll just have to wait and see."

Stephen didn't waste a second, crashing his lips against yours the moment those words left your mouth. There was nothing sweet or tender in the way he kissed you, only desperation as you clung to each other's bodies. His hands cradled your cheeks, tilting your face so he could deepen the kiss, stealing what little breath you had left. Your head was spinning, your lips struggling to keep up with his kiss as your hands clutched at his chest desperate to find something to keep you grounded.

You surrendered to him completely, letting him do whatever he wanted with you. You were flying high in pure bliss, lost in the desperate caresses of Stephen's soft lips on yours. You didn't have the mental capacity to fight against his clear dominance over your body, you couldn't even feel ashamed of how quickly you had surrendered to his charms. 

You didn't want the moment to end. You wanted to live in Stephen's arms for the rest of your life, to feel his lips on yours until you ran out of air. However, the moment was interrupted when you felt the sound of someone clearing their throat behind you, forcing you to suddenly pull apart.

"It was about time," Wong said from the doorway looking at you with a firm expression that showed you how tired he was of you dancing around your feelings for each other. "We're waiting for you downstairs." And with that he left, leaving you alone once again to address what had happened.

"He's going to get back at us for everything we put him through, isn't he?" you muttered as you watched Wong disappear behind the door.

“Oh yes, definitely.”

[lil-gae-disaster]

@marsfingershurt then I shall satisfy the voices

(Disclaimer: Isa and Freddie actually talk in german but bcs I don't know if you know (enough) german I'll keep the dialog english)

_____

It has been a few years since Henrietta has gone from the earth

Their father always told him his mother had returned from whence she came.

He spoke of her as if she was an angel visiting earth. He always told his children he felt unworthy of her hand in marriage.

But that was not the case in this instant.

Their father was on the field, their maid had been tasked with baking this months bread they would sell on the city market. Both the children always enjoyed seeing the different kinds of people living next to each other and buying things from each other.

But right now, they were also doing something they enjoyed.

Frederick was trying to sound stern as he imitated the maid lecturing him on why it was not enjoyable when he refused to learn what she has tasked him to learn.

"It will stunt your intelligence, young man. I am aware that you have quite the intelligence, but this does not excuse you from seeking more" he imitated with a stern tone and voice, which were promptly lost to his childish giggles.

He was fourteen years old, and yet he behaved as if he were 12, which the small Isa found very amusing.

They had found a place under one of the older trees, it had apparently been planted by their ancestor in the 1400s. Frederick had found spring flowers that fit into the light red color of his sister's hair quite well and had promptly braided them into a flower crown and set it onto the head of the little child, crowning her the queen of that tree.

Now Frederick was entertaining Isabell with stories he had to tell.

"I have forgot to tell you one story. I had been to the market with father last month and he had given me money to wander through the market. I have been looking for a gift to you at the jewelers shop, when I saw a father with his son steering into my direction, they seemed like noblemen. I have let them in front of me, as the good boy I am."

This lured a child's golden giggle out of the throat of the four year old girl. Frederick grinned proud.

"As I was telling you, I have let them in front of me and the father browses through the jewelry. He ended up buying a quite pretty necklace for a price that would cost us our cow Bettie. The boy seemed my age. He actually talked to me, but I forgot to ask his name. His father had not been as gentle.

As they walked away, I picked a really pretty necklace for you and payed, without money to spend or patience to endure the market, I returned to father who had been talking with the same man from earlier. What a weird coincidence, am i correct?" The small schottish boy asked as he sat down next to his sister.

He also had a flower crown on his golden locks, since Isabell had pressured him to make himself also one of the daisies that littered the large farm property and who was he to deny his wonderful baby sister this one wish?

"Hilda was teaching me how to make butter. But I already knew! I have tried to tell her, but she didn't want to listen!" The small girl complained about the maid they had since they were living on the farm.

There had been one instance where Isabell had accidentally called her "mama".

"That was certainly inconsiderate of her, truly" the older one of them agreed.

Suddenly, Isabell climbed onto the lap of her older brother while she giggled.

Frederick began to giggle too as he pulled his sister closer and leaned against the strong centuries-old tree.

They settled down and soon, the only thing they heard were birds songs, the sounds of their father working on the field and the scraping accompanied with the procedure of making bread.

When their father went to fetch them for dinner, the only thing he saw were his two children, Isabell perched atop Frederick, under the tree, white flowers woven into a crown adorning their hair, sleeping soundly.

[the-letterbox-archives]

the filing system!

hello, all! i've been tagged in a lot of stuff recently, and i have started storing all these posts in the archives, mostly for my reference only. the system doesn't make much sense to anyone but me, but here's a weird pseudo-explanation of what's going on in my ocd, nonsense-organisation obsessed, addled mind.

find every extra file you need here!

(note: the filing system is currently being reworked! the above key is accurate to the new system, but the actual files are still being updated!)

file (1)2-1-011: behind character names

file (1)123-2-002: open qna

file (1)2-3-003: ask response

file (1)3-4-004: ask response

file (1)2-5-015: ask response

file (1)23-6-100: find the word

file (1)3-7-200: writing snippet

file (1)4-8-000: line of dialogue

file (1)2-9-300: writing snippet

file (1)1-10-006: 1 to 5 game

file (1)12-11-400: anagram game

file (1)1234-12-020: questionnaire

file (1)1-13-007: random ramble

file (1)4-14-030: 15 lines

file (1)234-15-040: questionnaire

file (1)2-16-500: writing snippet

file (1)1-17-000: line of dialogue

file (1)34-18-050: questionnaire

file (1)4-19-600: writing snippet

file (1)1234-20-009: wip name qna

file (0)0-0-000: ask response

file (1)1-21-0610: ask response

file (1)1235-22-700: anagram game

file (1)3-23-800: out of context line

file (1)4-24-070: 15 lines

file (1)1-25-900: writing snippet

file (1)2-26-0010: what have your characters done?

file (1)1-28-0011: ask response

file (1)5-29-0812: character inspiration

file (1)X-30-090: association game

file (1)12345X-31-000: wip qna

file (1)3-32-000: ask response

file (1)45X-33-0100: stranded on an island

file (1)2-34-0013: ask response

file (1)1-35-0110: ask response

file (1)X-36-0120: personality through quote

file (1)5-37-1000: out of context line

file (1)X-38-1100: writing snippet

file (1)2-39-01314: unorthodox ship

file (0)0-40-000: writer questionnaire

file (1)5-41-0140: character song

file (1)3-42-0150: character headcanons

file (1)2-43-1200: writing snippet

file (1)4-44-0160: 15 lines

file (1)2-45-0170: personality through quote

file (1)1-46-1300: anagram game

file (1)X-47-1400: anagram game

file (1)3-48-1500: 9 lines writing snippet

file (1)4-49-000: Iine of dialogue (x2)

file (1)6-50-0180: questionnaire

file (1)ALL-51-0015: open qna

file (0)0-52-000: 1-10 dialogue lines

file (0)0-53-000: writer questionnaire

file (0)0-54-000: writer questionnaire

file (1)ALL-55-000: clickbait title

file (1)ALL-56-0190: most likely to

i'm only now realising how much these look like weird phone numbers ;-; whoops!

[polutrope]

Hi! If you're still taking the Silm phrase prompts, Finrod + shadows of things that were yet to be? — @emyn-arnens

Thank you for the prompt! This is quite a bit different from my usual. I experimented with writing a draft by hand, and this is what came out.

~1400 words of child Finrod, recounting the experience of one of his first forebodings. On AO3.

I was born in Tirion, in my father’s wing of the Palace, but I was still a babe when Mother first brought me to Alqualondë.

When I told Father this story, he asked, “How do you remember that?” But I remember everything, like Grandfather Olwë who they say has the longest and clearest memory of all the Eldar, at least of those who made the Journey to Aman (he says his brother Elwë remembered more). As the Noldor, my father’s people, have the greatest skill in craft and lore, the Teleri, my mother’s people, have the greatest skill with memory. For the Teleri call themselves Lindar, Singers, not only because they have the most beautiful voices, but because they perceive the world and their lives within it as a Song. Each emotion a note, each experience a chord, each event a whole movement. Songs, at their root, are stories. And when you make stories of your life, you never forget. 

Sometimes, we even remember things that have not yet come to pass. This is called foreknowledge or foretelling. It is not unusual for the Eldar, Father says, but I am very young to have such powers (as he calls them). He didn’t say as much, but because I can hear minds even when they do not speak with voices, I know that he thinks this particular foretelling should not be possible in the Blessed Realm. Perhaps he is right that this memory is not a foretelling at all but thoughts and images my mind put together in a story to help me make sense of them. But Queen Míriel died in Aman, so perhaps what I saw on that first visit to Alqualondë could happen also.

Mother had me swaddled to her chest in a sling, and her voice purred in my ears as she held up one arm to point: “See, Ingo? There is the great mansion your grandfathers built together. Olwë envisioned its rounded shapes and its roof like cresting waves, and Finwë made it strong using the language of numbers and patterns.” The wind was whipping my soft hair around my face and she stroked it back. “But come, let me show you the most beloved creation of our people.” I felt the rhythm of her footfalls as she walked us down the pier. “For in the building of ships we received no aid from the Noldor. Ossë taught us this craft before we came to these shores.” She took her arms away from me for a moment, to help her up the ladder onto the royal swanship.

My head fell back and I saw the tall mast reaching up, up, up into the sky streaked with pink and gold. The sky is never as bright and blue here as it is in Tirion, for the Pelóri stand between Laurelin and the coast. Mother was still speaking to me in her lilting voice, bouncing and cupping my little body with both hands, but her words faded to a murmur of sound without meaning. 

“Stop them!” a voice cried, and my sight was obscured as with a grey gauze. “They are manning the ships! Stop!” Something whizzed past at the very edge of my field of vision, and I looked down to see what it was. Perhaps a seabird swooping low. I looked up at Mother, but she smiled at me and showed no sign of noticing. 

Again something flew past and I knew it for an arrow. I had only seen anyone use a bow once, when we visited Uncle Nolofinwë soon after I was born. Cousin Findekáno had been in the courtyard practising his shot with a bow made for play. But these arrows flying between the shadowy veil between the present—on my mother’s chest, a bright warm day—and the memory of what would be—dark, dark as the blackness of sleep, and full of shouts—were long and swift and some struck the ships so hard their points drove right through. Someone screamed. I did not see them fall, but I heard the splash that swallowed the scream in the sea. I had never heard anyone scream that way, as if all their voice was loosed at once. It pushed a scream from my lungs, too, and Mother’s lips stopped moving and she held me closer and hid my eyes against her chest. But that was worse, because it hid the bright day so that all I could see now was the dark memory full of shouts and clanging metal and whizzing arrows and bodies falling in the water. 

“Shh, shh,” she said, bouncing up and down to comfort me. I pounded my fists against her chest, pushing so I could see again with my eyes. Then I found her face, and she was smiling and started to sing. Mother’s songs are powerful. She pulled me back from the shadowy place. “Are you hungry?” she asked when my tears had stopped. No, I was not hungry, but I could not tell her because I could not yet shape words with my mouth. “Come, let us go back and find you some fishcakes. Would you like that, my golden star?”

Later, when I could speak with words, I did not tell anyone of that memory. By then I had many other memories layered on top of eachother, both of things that had been and things that would be. Most were joyous, and those ones I made into songs that made others smile and laugh and sometimes cry, but always with happiness. I did try, once, to put the memory from the swanship into a song, but it made my heart tighten and my stomach twist and I did not think it would be fair to share such unpleasant feelings with others. 

Then a few days ago, Turukáno (he is my favourite cousin) came to visit us in Alqualondë. Our mothers took us to the beach, and we built sandcastles and splashed in the waves. While we were playing, Turukáno suddenly went very still and his skin was full of tiny bumps as if he was cold, even though it was an especially warm day and there was no wind. I hugged him to warm him with my body but he did not move for some time. When he came back, and met my eyes, he didn’t say anything. We went in and wrapped up in our towels, and Mother gave us juice and melon and soon he was smiling and laughing again. 

But I was not able to put out of my mind the strange mood that had come over my friend, so when we were tucked in bed for sleep, I asked him what had happened. 

“It is nothing,” he said at first. But Turukáno and I shared everything, so I asked him again. Then he told me what had frozen him with fear: it was the same memory, or very similar, I’d had on the swanship with my mother. 

It was not the first time Turukáno and I shared a memory. We share dreams often, sometimes on purpose, so that we can be together even when he is Tirion and I am in Alqualondë. But we’d never shared this sort of memory. Poor Turukáno had never even had a memory of the future before!  

When Father came in to check that we were asleep and found me holding Turukáno and Turukáno crying, of course he was worried. But I wouldn’t tell him what happened, not then, because Turukáno was so scared already. 

“I promise to tell in the morning,” I told Father. 

So I did, I told him this morning, because I did not want him to worry. I think it would have been better if I had not, because he has been walking about the home all day fretting with the hem of his tunic. I heard him asking Mother if he should tell Anairë, because of Turukáno, and if she thought we should make a journey to Lórien to ask the Vala’s aid in “interpreting memories”. 

But Irmo knows the Theme of Arda, what if we discover that the memory Turukáno and I shared is true? I do not think I could live with that certainty. I know that Turukáno could not. Father will not force me to go, and I won’t. It is safer, I have decided, for some memories not to be put into speech or Song. 

Thanks to @cuarthol for the beta!