#the siren can be very vocal

[sea-lanterns]

I like to imagine in pirate!AU there's some sort of language barrier, for example siren!reader couldn't understand what the people says, they only understand through gestures and scents something like that. So when siren!reader talks it's like short sentences or words ex: "Me..hungry" "don't..trust" "You’re..pretty" its like siren!reader practicing the language of those who live on land for the first time or they are like Razor :D . Fortunately thanks to siren!reader getting kidnapped by these pirates they get to understand what they say thanks for their help.Imagine siren!reader in bed though:)

There would definitely be some kind of language barrier with Siren! Reader and the pirate women! Actually, in the beginning, I imagine the Siren to be somewhat mute (mostly because she can only communicate in purrs, thrills, clicks and song) but Sirens are capable of speaking human languages.

I imagine women like Lisa, Xianyun, Faruzan, etc. take joy in trying to teach the Siren how to speak. She has the vocabulary structure of Razor tbh, but she’s trying her best! She can’t read, but she’s capable of copying the words the women teach her, and sometimes it can lead to her repeating…not so great things.

Pirate! Beidou stubbing her foot: Ah, fuck!

Siren! Reader perking up: …Fuck!

Cue everyone on the Liyue ship glaring at Beidou 😅

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

I need to find a large, soundproofed room I can scream at the top of my lungs in so I can record myself and hear what it sounds like

[goddess-of-graphite]

The Great Notes App Exodus: Gothic Dragons

Gotham has always been protected by a Dragon, even before it was ever Gotham.

There was a way about the land Gotham stood upon, that was all twisted magics and darkness and feral energy that never quite fit in man’s modern world. America had but one Guardian Dragon - except for Gotham, which was near a law and country unto itself.

Gotham was a sanctuary for the supernatural, but it was not kind. Those non-humans who risked its dark streets were the brave, or the foolish, or the terribly desperate. Gotham was a dark city, and it’s people adapted or were driven out.

(But should a threat ever come for her, all of Gotham would rise up in response.)

So Gotham had its own Guardian, but the Dragon guarded the world outside from Gotham’s brutality just as much as it shielded Gotham from those that would rend her apart.

But, of course, Dragons were only so many, and new blood must be brought in - human blood, as it often was, and so the trend of Dragon blood “skipping” a generation emerged.

And the bloodline of the Guardian Dragons of Gotham withered, bit by bit, because it is far easier to kill a human of dragon blood than it is to kill a Dragon of human descent.

(And Bruce Wayne has never hated this truth of the world more - because his parents had been Skipped, human, and if they had been dragons, they’d still be there with him.

But they weren’t.

It was just Bruce, a fledgling Dragon, and the butler left to care for him.)

-

Although Gotham had only ever had one Guardian Dragon, it had at one time had a whole lineage of Dragons capable of taking up the mantle. As the Dragons intermarried, however, more and more lines broke off with human kin, occasionally producing dragons.

But the Guardian Line had been reduced to one untrained hatchling. And that hatchling didn’t much care if it was a Dragon or a dragon that was Guardian of the city, just that there was someone to Guard it.

The problem is, of course, that the hatchling needs training - but he cannot get that in Gotham.

So he leaves.

He comes back ready to pull his city back from the brink, by force if (when) necessary.

Here’s the thing - Bruce is no Dragon, because for all that he is the last of the Guardian line he doesn’t adhere to the rules of that duty.

A Guardian’s duty is to the supernatural beings they protect.

Bruce has already decided that that is not enough. Human or Magical Being, if no one else will step in, then he will.

Bruce might have been the Gotham Dragon, but that didn’t mean he was the only dragon in the city.

The thing about dragon blood is that it tended to turn up dragons unexpectedly in families that had been mostly human. A dragon ancestor could have human children, and their children have human children, and then a dragon. It was a recessive trait when introduced into human bloodlines, and especially if it was paired with yet more human lines, but it also was tellingly stubborn - a human may only have a single draconian ancestor hundreds of years back, but they could still unexpectedly turn up a dragon hatchling.

It was just sheer dumb luck that a bunch of said unexpected hatchlings turned up within the span of the same generation.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

"Multi-talented Queen"

How I imagine the lads men react to hearing you sing for the first time.

Zayne

MC: Why are you staring at me?

Zayne: Just trying to figure out when you were going to tell me you could sing

MC: Okay prophet did you figure it out yet?

Zayne: Yes I have

MC: and what's the answer?

Zayne: You never were this is the only point in time when I was going to find out

MC: Im shy about my singing voice why are you mad?

Zayne: Im not upset ... I would just like to hear it more often

MC: Alright I'll sing you to sleep or something

Zayne: I accept your terms

MC: I was kidding hold on

Zayne: Too late I've already agreed to the terms and conditions

MC: What were the terms and conditions?!?!

Rafayel

MC: *Singing as she steps out of the shower*

Rafayel: *Busts open the bathroom door*

MC: WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!?

Rafayel: Why'd you stop singing?

MC: Because you busted in here like a fed and im butterball naked

Rafayel: Yea ..... nice ... very nice

MC: Focus fishie

Rafayel: Why didn't you tell me you could sing?

MC: you never asked

Rafayel: Do it again

MC: Do I bust in on you while you're naked and demand for you to sing?

Rafayel: I mean id be fine with that

MC: Get out

Rafayel: Sing first

MC: No

Rafayel: Come on please?

MC: You sing

Rafayel: I can't

MC: is your voice that bad?

Rafayel: No I have the vocals of a siren it will kill you

MC: *laughs*

Rafayel: ...

MC: ...

MC: Wait you're serious?

Xavier

Xavier: Are there any other secrets you're hiding?

MC: Are you still on this?

Xavier: You hid it from me

MC: I didn't hide anything I just didn't sing around you

Xavier: You hid it

MC: I get nervous singing in front of people and you still give me butterflies by just looking at me

Xavier: If I close my eyes will that help?

MC: That's not how it works Xavier

Xavier: What if I stand on the balcony with my back to you?

MC: Why do you want me to sing so bad?

Xavier: ....It's one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard

MC: S-STOP !

Sylus

Sylus: *Holds up his phone and plays a recording* You'd give Princess Fiona a run for her money

MC: MEPHISTO CAN RECORD???

Sylus: How many times do I have to remind you that he is a mechanical crow?

MC: He's a little shit that's what he is....

Sylus: What exactly was your plan?

MC: I was trying to make him explode the same way Fiona did

Sylus: and what came of that?

MC: Leave me alone Sylus

Sylus: How do you have so much animosity towards a crow?

MC: Why does your crow have so much static with me?

Sylus: You should sing more often

MC: No

Sylus: What if I say please?

MC: Still no

Sylus: Shall I beg?

MC: Still no ... well actually ... wait n-no ... I get nervous there's nothing you can say that will change my mind

Sylus: I'll move Mephisto into one of the twins rooms

MC: Send me a list of songs you wanna hear

[cutiepieloves131]

Rohini & Ashlesha ruling over, "The Siren Archetype"

Siren means a seductively beautiful or irresistible woman, especially one who beguiles men with a alluring voice but is also very dangerous.

I observed for the past few months of female celebrities who are considered to be "Sirens" and the two nakshatras that arose the highest in a lot of these women big 3, big 6, atmakaraka, lagnesh, or ascendant lord were Rohini and Ashlesha! In my opinion it 100% makes sense because Rohini and Ashlesha are known to be the most seductive nakshatras.

Rohini is naturally a seductive and alluring nakshatra, they have a huge amount of magnetism and irresistibility. Many perceive them to be docile and innocent which is a little true but at the same time Rohini individuals have a beguiling dark side and it's shown through fashion, makeup, and mannerisms. Their hypnotic snake-like eyes and allure will lure you in like a moth to a flame.

Ashlesha possess an tantalizing and enticing quality that's hard resist with a lot of people deeming them as incredibly sexy beauties. Their aura and the way they talk is very tempting almost attracting everyone towards them in just one minute. They already are rule the dark feminine aesthetic and the Siren eyed look, the gaze is hypnotizing and captivating. Ashlesha women are extremely powerful seductress.

Another thing that Rohini and Ashlesha have in common is the power attraction able to pull masses with ease due to their enthralling and entrancing talents and they're both connected to snakes which grants them seduction and hypnotism, but also snakes has connections to water too some snakes know how to swim and those that are born with snake yoni nakshatras can be excellent swimmers and sensual dancers. Snake nakshatras make great singers, they have breathy, sultry, and trance-inducing vocals. Both of these nakshatras tend to attract people that want to abuse, and take advantage of them because of their beauty, charm, and seductiveness. It's similar to a snake it'll be minding its own business just passing through and then all of a sudden humans or animals will catch hold of the its presence admiring it or immediately freaking out wanting to attack it, this is why snakes are constantly on defense mode from things and people that'll want to harm them much similar to Siren and her singing. Thanks to the venom that snakes maintain that is too used to protect themselves as well.

Marilyn Monroe 🖤 Rohini Sun & Mercury, Ashlesha Ascendant

Marilyn was known to be one of the most popular and beloved sex symbol in her prime and still is after her death. She's also referred to being the most iconic Siren, Marilyn had a magnetic charisma about her that many viewers, and fans, loved about her. She was enormously irresistible to masses with her beautiful appearance, blonde hair, red lips, and hourglass figure was a big part of her allure. Why do you think those who use the 'Marilyn Monroe Effect' to exude confidence, sensuality, and timeless beauty that she personified. Marilyn Monroe was a force to be wrecked with and still is!

Salma Hayek 🖤 Ashlesha Venus Atmakaraka

The seductive Salma Hayek, forever an enchantress has remained a beacon of raw sensuality and untamed beauty for many decades, with her dark eyes, thick raven tresses, and hourglass figure. Her spellbinding allure is undoubtedly unmatched, in 1996's Dusk Till Dawn most iconic scene Salma gained massive attention worldwide for her exotic and complling snake dance in the movie, you'll think she was a siren out of water performing that dance.

Angelina Jolie 🖤 Rohini Sun

Halting as the world's most beautiful woman to ever hit this world is also a famous Siren which you can see through her movies, interviews, and photos. Angelina has this siren-like and hypnotic gaze able to captivate those that look into her eyes, her entire existence is the reason why she subconsciously causes extreme reactions within the public. Angelina has a erotic and tempting quality to her that's a big factor to her appeal, beauty, and aura she's everybody's girl crush of the century. Angelina Jolie will forever be that girl!

Alexa Demie 🖤 Ashlesha Jupiter & Ascendant

Alexa known to play Maddy Perez in Euphoria, because of her role in Euphoria she gained a mass following on social media. Alexa is also a private person barely revealing things about herself and personal life which led to people being intrigued by her, she has a enigmatic and mystifying trait about her that no one can explain not even me. Alexa doesn't have to try anything to grab anyone's attention her ravishing beauty and the way she carries herself quickly captures onlookers eyes, to me Alexa Demie embodies the true traits of a Siren.

Adriana Lima 🖤 Ascendant Lord Mars in Rohini

Adriana is one of the most famous and successful models to ever walk multiple runways, in 2012 she's even been viewed by more than 100 million people from her appearing in two Super Bowl ads in one game! Ever since then Adriana still remained one of the most popular Victoria's Secret models, in 2012 Adriana is ranked 4th on the list of top-earning models with an estimated annual salary of $7.3 million and in 2021 she ranked 2nd with an estimated salary of $30 million. Adriana is noted for her magnetic presence and remaining agelessly alluring, she's effortlessly oozing charm and confidence through her walks, becoming a known figure of beauty and in the modeling world.

Ailyn 🖤 Rohini Sun & Mercury, Possible Ashlesha Moon

Before I finish up this post I'd like to add Ailyn here, she was a former singer in the Norwegian metal band called, "Sirenia" and when she was still in the group they had a album named, "Perils of the Deep Blue" that came out in 2013 with the cover image of Siren. All of the songs in the album is dedicated to Siren, Ailyn's singing and essence alone is reminding me of a Siren.

More Siren Examples

Brigitte Bardot [Rohini Moon and Ashlesha Mars], Bella Hadid [Ashlesha Mars Atmakaraka], Michelle Pfeiffer [Rohini Ascendant], Halle Berry [Ashlesha Sun], Emily Ratajkowski [Rohini Sun], Mila Kunis [Ashlesha Sun], Madison Beer [Rohini Ascendant], Monica Bellucci [Ashlesha Venus], Hwasa [Rohini Moon], Mae West [Ashlesha Mercury], Gabbriette Betchel [Rohini Moon], Elizabeth Taylor [Ashlesha Jupiter], Uma Thurman [Rohini Mars], Jennifer Lawrence [Ashlesha Sun], Olivia Wilde [Rohini Moon], Charlize Theron [Ashlesha Sun, Moon, & Mercury]

[littlenightma]

Hello. I hope this request is not strange. Can you write a Yandere Jeeper Creepers headcanon?

Yandere!Jeepers Creepers Headcanons (NSFW)

• Your scent was intoxicating and it called to him like a siren’s song. He drops his latest kill to the ground. He had to find the source of the delicious smell or he was going to go insane. As he searches, he is bombarded with an assemblage of differentiating scents, but none of them are yours. Where are you, sneaky human? He flaps his wings harder until he is nothing but an unrecognizable blur in the sky.

• And there you are, pinned beneath him, screaming and squirming. Talons dig into your skin. Muscles ripple beneath your hands as you futilely try to pry away. He trails his nose everywhere, sniffing and scanning, searching for something. You think, this is it. This thing is going to rip me to shreds. He finally comes to a stop between your legs. Ah, there it is. To your horror he buries his face there and inhales deeply and rises with a toothy grin. He is going to enjoy you.

• Unfortunately for you, Creepers mate for life, so unless something terrible happens and you die, you’re stuck with him forever. Mating lets him to bypass the 23 year hibernation cycle, too, so yeah, until you die, you belong to the Creeper.

• There’s no use in running. He can track you from miles away and will find you every time. Not to mention he will be very displeased and will rip whoever helps you apart. All those times he allowed you to leave the den for a few hours are long gone.

• Creeper doesn’t talk much — and it depends on if he has vocal cords on him at the time — but every now and again he calls you different pet names from little human, pretty pet, or a simple mate/pup because he senses how you like it. His main form of communication is through body language or vocalization. When he growls you know you’re in trouble or when he tenses and his ears perk, it means there is someone or something nearby and you are expected to hide until it’s safe to come out.

• You do most of the talking because of this. Whenever he brings home bodies to “work on”, he listens to you ramble about different things: the weather, politics, or the new tv show you’ve been watching. He doesn’t understand a lot of it like why humans feel the need to buy their food when there was a plenty of animals to be hunted or why there were some who refused to eat meat altogether, but it doesn’t matter to him as long as he gets to hear your voice.

• Very territorial. Does not like when males of any species get close to you. Human, feline, canine, it doesn’t matter, however humans can get you pregnant and if that were to happen, he’d have no choice but to kill the offspring. No mate of his was going to bear any children that didn’t belong to him.

• Will scent and mark you to let others know you are already claimed. If anyone wants to fight for the right to have you, they can certainly try, but you know what’s going to happen, right? It’s not going to end well for them.

• You know who is in charge here, don’t you? You humans deemed yourselves the apex predators, top of the food chain, but it’s certainly not him rolled onto his back and displaying his belly in a show of submission. Such a good little pet you are.

• You’re unprepared for when he knots you the first time. Your initial reaction is to move away, however the knot is connecting you to him and will not budge, causing pain. You have no choice but to lay there and allow it to lodge itself further inside you. It’s intense, the feeling of his knot invading you, stretching you more than his monstrous cock did. You can’t believe you’re being fucked like an animal in the literal sense and how it’s even remotely possible for your human body to be adjusting so well. Wasn’t your body supposed to instinctively push out anything foreign? So why was your body greedily sucking him in and why was it starting to feel so good? Oh…

• When you’re on your period, it sends him into a state of frenzy and he will not leave you alone. The combination of your blood mixed with your pheromones are begging him to breed you. While it is impossible for him to impregnate humans, you’re still going to be put on your hands and knees, ass up and ready so he can fuck you all night long.

• And when I say all night long — I mean it. There are no breaks, no time outs, no breathers for you to take. It’s just him pounding into you relentlessly until his knot forms then it’s rinse and repeat. It’s messy, it’s sticky, and the more you cry out, the harder he goes. If you reach behind and grab his hips, pulling him close because you’re needing more is exactly how he wants you; a pleading, blood-soaked, cock drunken mess. You will never have to worry about having cramps again because he will fuck them right out of you.

• Loves to play fight. One because he wants you to learn how to properly pounce and pin prey to the ground. The more you learn to give into your own primal instincts that humans have all but lost long ago and learn to protect yourself when he isn’t around, the less he has to worry. Two, because of the social aspect of it. He likes spending time with his human and enjoys when you try your best to get the upper hand. Sometimes he will let you win, but there’s no changing the dynamics here. He will always play the dominate role.

• Takes you on impromptu flying trips. At first you were too scared to open your eyes to even look at anything and he has to jostle you until you do. It’s scary to know you’re that high in the air, but the fear eventually gives way and you begin to enjoy the wind blowing in your face.

• On those rare occasions when the Creeper isn’t out and prowling for himself, he rests you on top of his chest and cocoons you within his wings, locking them tight. He hums an old tune while scratching your back with his claws and eventually you are lulled to sleep, dreaming of a winged creature who has turned your life upside down.

• But maybe not for the worst.

[officialdaydreamer00]

can i req cuteness aggression headcanons for the tweels :3

im gonna shake them around like a pinball, or they'll gonna do that themselves lol

reader is not yuu, reader is gender neutral, reader is the object of their cuteness aggression

awe shrimpy, you're so cute he could just eat you whole!

very vocal about just how adorable you are and how much he wants to bite you.

might have "accidentally" squeezed you until you turned blue a few times before.

shakes you around like a ragdoll, takes great pleasures carrying you on his shoulders like a potato sack.

bites you. a lot. fully utilising his sharp chompers to mark your uncovered skin.

yeah he's not gonna hold back the aggression, bestie. good luck.

also wants to bite you, but tries his best to suppress it.

probably nearly strangled you with his hugs before.

attacks you with barrages of kisses and borderline squeezes.

he's nearly as bad as, if not more than, floyd when it comes to you lmao

you're just too cute for your own good, dear prefect. that's why he has that mighty urge to litter your skin with bite marks.

sometimes the temptation wins, and people will see you the next day with bright red marks peeking out from your shirt.

again, good luck bestie.

taglist🏷️ @azulashengrottospiano @identity-theft-101 @aqua-beam @siren-serenity @dove-da-birb @krenenbaker @cave-of-jade @axvwriter @mermaidfanficlibrary @thehollowwriter @moonlit-midnight @cheezy-moon @cookiesandbiscuits @minimallyminnie @jaylleoo14

reblogs are very appreciated!!

[ellecdc]

hear me out - a remus fic but set in come back be here, like maybe a muggle and remus is instantly smitten but has no idea how to navigate but everyone is pushing for him to actually go for it and it’s just chaos but in the best way possible… regardless come back be here was AMAZING

CBBH Remus x muggle!barista gn!reader

(Pretend they have phones for this okay? Thank you lol)

CW: just fluff, swearing, self deprecation, making a fool of oneself - you know, the remus lupin special

Remus would describe himself as many things.

He was a wizard. He was a werewolf. He was a business owner. He was an uncle. He was a friend. He was a war hero.

He was also, apparently, a coward.

He knows this to be true because he’s sat in the same spot that he’s been haunting all week – a chair in the far back corner of the café – pretending to look over ledgers in his notebook while he actually watches you work.

It’s fucking pathetic, is what it was.

He watched as you smiled politely at every customer in line – even the ones who weren’t as polite to you as Remus thought they ought to be.

He felt silly, really, watching you like a creep. He shouldn’t be here to begin with. He had stumbled upon this café completely by accident two weeks ago whilst in the city to pick up more muggle literature to add to his bookstore on Diagon Alley.

It was here he saw you, as if you were a siren calling him to this sodding caffeinated inlet to damn him to hell.

What a willing victim he was. 

But he shouldn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t get caught up with you. It was unthinkable. Most witches and wizards would have a hard time coming to terms with someone like, well, someone like him. 

He was a burden. A risk.

It was selfish to think he could entertain the thought of you.

Suddenly, as if she’d known he was talking poorly of himself, his phone buzzed.

Remus tried to steal himself as he took a deep breath. 

Right Lupin, you’ve done scarier things before. He thought to himself. You’ve run with wolves, you’ve gone undercover into enemy bases, you’ve deceived the dark lord right in front of his slimy fucking face, and you’ve even told Sirius once you thought his hair looked weird. By all means, you can talk to a barista.

Except...well...he really kind of couldn’t talk to a barista. He had made it all the way to the counter, even smiled politely at you as he stepped up to the cash register and...

And then words left him. Failed him. Completely abandoned him. He even thinks there may be a little stickie note in his brain that says ‘resignation effective immediately’ where words should be because he’s staring right at you with your gorgeous eyes and lovely hair and perfect features and for fuck sakes why isn’t he saying anything!?!?!

“Is there something I can get for you?” You asked so sweetly like this bloke wasn’t standing with his mouth agape at your cash register making a sure and utter fool of himself; like you had all the time in the world for the poor bastard.

“Uhm, uh...” He tried finally as if only now realizing he had functioning vocal chords. 

“Uhm, fuck, I’m so sorry uhm...”

You chuckled at him. Holy shit you chuckled at him. It was the most beautiful sound Remus thinks he may have ever heard. He hoped you’d do it again, though, at the rate he’s going it was really very likely. 

“I’m so sorry. I swear I’m not usually like this. Uh,” He apologized awkwardly as he scratched the back of his neck. 

“I hope this isn’t too forward, but I think you’re lovely and would, uh, like to get to know you. You don’t have to say anything now!” He interrupted as you began to interject. “In fact, for my pride's sake, I’d prefer if you didn’t. But I’d like to leave my number here for you, in case you’d like to text me some time.” 

He offered you the kindest smile he could muster as you took the now crumpled and sort-of-damp-from-his-sweaty-palms note in your hand with a smile of your own.

Now, Remus wouldn’t say he ran out of the café, per se. He would describe it as more of a jaunt, or perhaps a brisk walk. But he did nearly take out a woman with a pram as he all but flung the door open in his haste to get away. 

You stupid ridiculous bastard. He scolded himself as he made his way to the closest apparition point. If Sirius could see you know, you’d never hear the end of it.

His phone buzzed and Remus nearly dropped it in his haste thinking it might be Sirius having somehow actually seen what just took place.

Then he nearly dropped it again as he saw a new text from an unknown number.

Perhaps Remus wasn’t such a coward after all.

[im-not-buying-it-ether]

It's always about the Batfamily, or the Superfamily adopting Billy or Diana

BUT WHAT ABOUT BARRY? HAL?? WHAT ABOUT EVEN OLIVER OR ARTHUR?

we need to think outside the box people!

Okay, delving into it (LEAP)

So, Billy is just more put together than them, canonically when he isn’t straight up homeless he has his own job and apartment. Realistically with Hal, downgrade, with Barry idk bc I keep getting him and Wally mixed up so I don’t feel confident commenting there

For the vibes and fun?

Ollie and Dinah (package deal to me) rolling up with Billy makes me very happy. Ollie and Billy could talk for hours (read; days) on saying screw authority and Dinah letting Billy tag along for one of her gigs as a singer during which Billy flexes his guitar skills (canon thing) and delights one night at getting to play with his new mom. He absolutely does a crowd surf if they’re hyped enough, it’s the best night of his life.

Also, I headcanon Billy as doing a lot of really thoughtful magic gifts so he gets Dinah some fancy tea sirens or other vocal magical creatures use to help with their throats to help with hers cause of the strain her powers can cause, so Billy is just really sweet to her like that too.

Arthur speaks up about wanting to adopt his coworker and Billy’s like “I can’t breathe underwater tho…” so Arthur and Diana commission another set of Water Breathing jewelry from Hephaestus (Diana has a pair of earring for underwater visits) so Billy gets a sweet pair of earrings and undergoes a quick skin treatment to not constantly prune up in his new home. He’s gets along great with his new royal family, learns a lot of Atlantian magic because look me in the eyes and tell me this kid isn’t another weird “I love magical worlds” nerd who absorbs every magic he can get his hands on as Champion, loves every creature he comes across, and delights at having two parents again! Plus Tawny joins by turning into a catfish or something similarly appropriate bc shapeshifter Tawny agenda must be upheld.

[two-dolla-bills]

Top 10 mechanisms songs that you can get away with playing at a retailers without too many side eyes

I got a job in retail and I felt inspired lol

Disclaimer: this is not a list of the best mechanisms songs/the ones I think deserve to go "mainstream", they're just the ones that would blend in the best

1. Sirens

This song is probably the mechanisms' least "centered" song. It doesn't mention any characters, it has no narration, and out of context it just sounds like A Song that you might hear on the radio. Sirens is to the mechanisms as you're the one that I want is to grease, you know?

2. Trial by song

THIS one. It's in the same category to me as Sirens; you can listen to it by itself and not suspect much. Unlike Sirens which can be completely separated and still make sense, this one is more like a whole new world from Aladdin. There are parts that make it obvious that it's from a larger whole, but if you just so happen to catch the "safe" parts you won't suspect much.

Points were deducted due to Mr. Soldier's unique vocals. (Unique as in not very common in mainstream music)

3. Empty trail

This is no offense to Dr. La Cognizzi, but sometimes when she sings it's hard to make out what she's saying, which works in her favor in these circumstances. It sounds country/rock, which help it blend in with some dad rock songs. If I remember correctly, the melody was actually taken from a Led Zeppelin song, so if you aren't paying attention to what's ACTUALLY being said you can get away with claiming it's a cover.

4. Ties that bind

Although this one does mention many plot points, many fans have stated that they had no idea what the fuck was being said until the have looked for the lyrics (myself included) this, combined with it's jazzy rythm, make it able to blend in with other songs, similarly to empty trail

5. Odin

The most "normal" song out of the entirety of The Bifrost Incident. This song made it to the top five because it has similarities with Roam by the B-52's, but had points deducted due to it clearly being about an awesome space train

6. Lost in the cosmos

This might just be personal opinion, but it sounds like a church song. You can pull off the effect of it being about earth Jesus and not space robot Jesus if you have particularly bad quality speakers and a busy store w/lots of noise. Again, the lyrics kinda give it away as to not being entirely main stream

7. Stranger

Look it's a banger, ok? Many of the lyrics could be taken as just being metaphors, but I feel like you have to squint to "see" it. Pay too much attention and shit gets a little weird. Also, points deducted because it's two men singing together and not a man and a woman, which throws a wrench into the works. At kohl's it might raise some eyebrows but in like hot topic it'll blend in a little better

8. Redeath

You would think a song about a sphoenix (space phoenix) would be lower on the list but you'd be wrong. It's a really pretty song with a good original melody, and it's something that can be drowned out by a particularly rowdy crowd. Like Stranger, it would blend in better at a hot topic than at kohl's, but only slightly.

9. Elysian Fields

The melody in Elysian Fields is taken directly from the song wayfaring stranger, which has been coverd by Jonny Cash, Ed Sheeran, Poor Man's Poison, and The Longest Johns, AS WELL HAS having been featured in the movie 1917 and in the video game The Last of Us II, which make it very recognizable. Because of this recognizability, people who know the original song may be caught off guard by hearing it in a Walmart with completely different lyrics. It was originally in 7th place, but the popularity of the original takes off many points

10. Once and future king

It's a banger, don't get me wrong, but it also very heavily and clearly mentions plot points from the album, which itself is heavily base on Aurtharian mythology; something very well known in the western world (also the names are not common at all and most haven't been in fashion in centuries). In a crowded, busy space with not very good quality speakers it could potentially blend in, but one or two names might sneak out. The only reason it's on the list is because of the instrumental outro, which sounds normal enough

[blacktobackmesa]

Chatty - A Streamman Mini-Fic (Part 1/?)

Generally speaking, Gordon’s friends had learned to look past the non-vocal noises that occasionally leaked through the cosmic veil through Gordon’s mouth. 

Everyone in the group had their own quirks, really. Just as Gordon had learned not to ask too many questions about some of the Science Team’s habits, so too had his friends come to understand what it meant when his lips parted and he involuntarily did a spot-on impression of an A/C unit or a passing fire engine. There was only so much that he could do about his microphone sensitivity, so the occasional extra noise was just a fact of life. 

The first few times it had happened, Gordon was just embarrassed to break the immersion of hanging out with his friends-- nobody wants constant reminders that the guy inviting you out to Game Night is a flesh puppet being controlled by someone who holds your reality on his desk. 

Thankfully, if there was one perk to having hyper-adaptive AIs as friends, it was that the nature of their existence made them adept at the principles of improv theatre. 

“My, that is a nasty case of the hiccups you have there!” Coomer had once told him over a game of Uno. 

“Hiccups? I don’t know if I-- eep!”

Bubby nodded. “Mm-hm, mm-hm. You know, I’ve heard that with hiccups like that, the best cure is changing the damn batteries in your smoke alarm.”

The message took a moment for Gordon to fully process. “Oh. Oh, those hiccups!”

“It was either that or drinking a glass of water while humming. You know how those hiccup cures can be,” Bubby continued. 

“I’d better do that,” Gordon said, quickly standing up from his chair. “I’ll be right back. Gotta drink some water or someth--eep! Low. Battery.”

Coomer looked at his partner as Gordon excused himself to take off his headset just out of view.

Bubby smirked. “Gordon has such a way with words, doesn’t he?”

Coomer nodded. “Low Battery. I believe I said something similar to you on our last anniversary!”

“I’d told you to charge your colon before we left the house.”

“I didn’t need to charge it when we left the house.”

It became a sort of part-joke, part-game, and part-grand-law-of-the-universe. When something unexpected came out of Gordon’s mouth, whoever was with him would create an “in-universe” explanation for the sound. Something fell off his desk and made a noise as it landed? Gordon must have been stretching his spine and something popped, always satisfying. Sirens outside? Now’s not the time to do vocal warmups, Gordon, but your range is impeccable. There’s a giggling little boy sitting on his dad’s lap? Gordon has become a spirit medium, and his body is being taken over by the ghostly being known as Great and Powerful Josh (who was very, very fond of this game). 

It was all in good fun, of course. The game only worked if everyone was onboard, and Gordon very rarely had a reason to put his foot down and stop the gag.

Perhaps too rarely.

In the lower corner of his Twitch layout, the kitty ears on Gordon’s digital head perked at attention.

“For those of you just joining us, here’s what you need to know. Meatspace-- MYAA! Meatspace Gordon, the Gordon out in meatspace, is looking MAOW. after a little friend this week. But Digital Gordon?” He took a breath in, trying to tamp down on a laugh as another meow passed from his family’s cat through his avatar’s lips. “Digital Gordon has learned an important lesson about teleporter accidents.”

[franabz]

★ Moth to a flame Band141!AU part 2

(part 1)

Ghost wasn't very sure why he was suddenly so drawn to the absolutely bonnie young woman on stage, but something about her was like a moth to a flame to him in ways he couldn't really understand.

Maybe it wad the way she seemed absolutely terrified, practically hitching with every step she took on stage in front of rows of (mostly drunken) bar patrons. You'd almost feel sorry for how she was practically shaking like a leaf as the stage manager handed off her own mic and her eyes nervously darted over the crowds with a tremble in her knees.

The lead vocalist, Vixen, didn't seem as amused as the rest though. She subtly took a step back and nudged you with her elbow, snapping you a "Don't fuck up" look that made you swallow thickly. One by one each member of the band got to their respective places, then Vixen's voice pitched into the mic through the speakers. "Thank you all for having us here tonight!" She grinned widely, obviously thinking highly of herself in the moment.

"How 'bout tae brunette? She looks like'a bonnie lass." Soap commented, resting his forearms over the wooden table as he nodded towards one of the other female band members, the bassist stage named Robin. "We're lookin' for a vocalist, not 'nother bassist." Price sighed, taking another drag of his cigar before tapping it against an ashtray to take a sip of his whiskey. Gaz and Ghost were mostly silent, simply observing the potential candidates. At least Gaz seemed alive in his thoughts, his brows raised slightly in curiosity as the music finally began. Ghost however, ever the stone-faced man, was completely unreadable, per usual.

An upbeat and funky rhythm sounded through the speakers as each band member performed their parts with practiced ease, everyone giving it their all. Vixen's captivating alto voice being the main focus. You did your best to stay on-par with the rest of the band, yet remained significantly quieter. Ghost kept his eyes trained on you with laser focus, seemingly keeping a mental note of every flat, shaky note you managed to spew out like he was some sort of critic. "She's good." Gaz uttered quietly while resting his chin in his palm, subtly head bobbing to the beat. "Ah dinnae ken... Ye can barely even hear 'er over the blonde." Soap gestured a hand towards Vixen, watching as she was blatantly trying to steal the spotlight over the other band members, her voice considerably louder than the instruments. Price simply watched with a critical eye. You could practically hear the gears moving in his head.

Little by little you finally started breaking from that timid shell you were curled in and your true colors began to shine, your captivating soprano vocals mixing with Vixen's alto tone rather nicely, though it was obvious she was still trying to overpower you. Nonetheless you delivered with such soulful grace that rang out in the ears of patrons even after the song ended. Almost like a siren drawing in unsuspecting victims.

Though Price didn't say anything, it was obvious his face said it all. "I have to talk to her."

"Soprano and baritone? Not a bad combo." Gaz chipped in. "Wot's what mean?" Ghost finally spoke up, gruffly scowling as he tapped his foot against the wooden flooring below.

"Bloody 'ell, pipe down." Price grunted, waving away his smoke as well as waving away the chatter of the boys.

The rest of the performance the boys were relatively quiet, each going through their own inner turmoil. Well, everyone but Soap. He couldn't care less who joined as long as they were a decent person. As the band finally finished and the final notes rang in the air, the band roared in applause and cheers, some drunken bar-goers even going as far as to throw catcalls. As soon as the band finished and Vixen began addressing the audience while the others began loading off stage— "Be right back." Price put out his cigar and took one last swig of his drink before weaving his way through crowds with a small occasional "S'cuse me" or "Pardon me" just to get a chance to talk with you.

Sure she was as timid as a butterfly, but nothing some good practice and encouragement couldn't fix.

As Price disappeared into the crowd, Soap stood up to head back towards the bar to order some more drinks, leaving just Ghost and Gaz.

"So, what'd ya think, Si?" He smirked, his eyes flickering back up to meet Ghost's own gaze. Ghost stayed silent for a moment, avoiding Gaz's gaze slightly. He actually did enjoy the performance, though he would never admit that out loud. "T'was fine." He replied quietly, tapping a blunt fingernail against his empty glass. "Fine? That's all you can say? The girl gotta voice of siren. Bloody captivating."

He leaned back in his booth, the slight sound of denim rubbing against leather could be heard over the distant bar chatter. "Only the first band n' Price already has his eyes on a bird." Ghost subtly eye-rolled and met Gaz's brown eyes for a second, before drifting his gaze away as his eyes roamed over the crowds again, trying to find the girl Price went to talk to.

Meanwhile with Price, he managed to stop you in your tracks with his usual straight to the point charm, one that made you cock a brow subtly.

"Hey- I jus' wanted to say you hav'a lovely singin' voice, mate. A true talent." Price smiled respectfully, tucking a hand into his jeans pocket as his gaze stayed trained over you. "Ah... Thank you, sir." You replied with a small sheepish chuckle, idly fiddling with a loose string on the hem of your jeans at the compliment. Price could notice your unease and chuckled gruffly, finding it a bit amusing how sheepish you were. "Don' worry, lass. I don't bite." He reassured, a small amused huff escaping his lips. "Look, I won't sugarcoat this. I thin ya 'ave true potential, and I was wondering if you'd be interested in a little meeting, eh?" He pulled a small business card from his pocket and held it out for you between his rough fingers.

You glanced down at the card and could feel your face warming at the offer. "A business offer? Hell- I could barely hold a steady note..." You thought to yourself, before quickly snapping out of your stray thoughts and swallowed thickly, hesitantly reaching for the card. "We're currently lookin' for a secondary singer 'nd thought you'd fit in nicely. All of my details're on the card." Price added, handing the card off to you before folding his arms over his chest, watching your reaction.

You accepted the card in shaky hands, your eyes roaming over the "141" label in jagged fonts. "Right... I'll think about it." You muttered, before placing the card into your own pocket and looking back up at the man, exhaling deeply to release some nerves. "Thank you." You added quietly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

"F'course, lass. Hey, you have a true talent. We could use s'meone like you on our side." Price hummed, satisfaction crossing over his face at your acceptance.

You both respectfully bid farewells and went your separate ways, Price returning to the secluded booths and you being left to stand against the wall with your own thoughts. You couldn't lie, the offer was something that definitely caught your attention, but then again you were still technically in a band. Would they even notice if you left? You were barely even noticeable on stage anyways... Maybe if you—

"Y/N!" A familiar voice snapped you out of your inner turmoil, that of Vixen; better known as Crystal. "Where were you? We're packing up for the night." She sneered, placing her hands on her hips as she looked at you, almost silently judging you. "You're lucky you didn't completely blow it tonight. Everyone was too focused on me to care, anyways." Her comments definitely tugged at your gut, but you decided not to say anything about it.

"Right, sorry." You sighed, silently resenting Crystal for her constant jabs, though you couldn't say you didn't expect it. "Damn right you are. Now hurry up, Jayce is paying our tab." She stuck her nose up subtly, before turning on her heel to walk away. Your expression stiffened as she walked away, a small exhausted exhale leaving your lips.

You took one last look around the bar, your eyes falling over the booths where 141 was currently sitting, laughing it up and sharing drinks and smokes while other bands were loading on stage, before your eyes returned to the front of the bar where Crystal and the others were waiting. You patted the pocket that Price's business card was in and let out a controlled inhale, before slowly weaving through the crowds to get to them.

Though the thought of the offer hadn't left your mind yet.

[svt-luna]

* ˚ ✦ LUNA

﹟STAGE NAME ‣ Luna ❨ 루나 ❩

﹟BIRTH NAME ‣ Bae Ji-Yeon ❨ 배지연 ❩

﹟ENGLISH NAME ‣ Luna Bae

﹟POSITION ‣ Lead Vocalist, Visual

﹟BIRTHPLACE ‣ Kensington, London, United Kingdom

﹟BIRTHDATE ‣ January 30, 1997

﹟ZODIAC SIGN ‣ Aquarius

﹟CHINESE ZODIAC SIGN ‣ Ox

﹟HEIGHT ‣ 170cm ❨ 5’7" ❩

﹟WEIGHT ‣ 43kg ❨ 94 lbs ❩

﹟BLOOD TYPE ‣ O+

﹟MBTI ‣ INTJ

﹟NATIONALITY ‣ Korean-English

﹟REPRESENTATIVE EMOJI ‣ 🌙

﹟SUB-GROUP ‣ Vocal Team

﹟INSTAGRAM ‣ @/lunabae

﹟SOLO FANDOM NAME ‣ Moonlights

﹟MIC COLOR ‣ Periwinkle

﹟LUNA FACTS ‣

She was born in Kensington, London, United Kingdom

She is an only child

She comes from a wealthy family

Training Period: 3 years and 4 months

She moved back to Seoul, South Korea in 2011 at the age of 14 years old and started training as an idol when she was just 15 years old back in 2012

She was a trainee at YG Entertainment for a year and was constantly offered to train at PLEDIS Entertainment which she accepted hesitantly a year later

She started training in ballet at the age of 3 years old

Her mother is a retired ballerina while her father is an anthropologist

Education: Southbank Internation School Kensington, School of Performing Arts Seoul

She can speak in English, Korean, and Japanese

Her nicknames are ‘Lulu’, ‘Nana’, ‘Ace’, and ‘Elsa’ (because she can be cold according to the members), ‘It Girl’, ‘Siren’, and ‘Bunny’

She was dubbed the ‘Ace’ by fellow trainees because she was an all-rounder who could adapt and do anything asked of her, and also because she would always get high scores during monthly evaluations

She ranked 1st on TC Chandler’s Most Beautiful Faces of 2020

She is very smart and was always top of her classes

She has a talent for manipulating situations and the rest of the members during their Going Seventeen games making her one of the scariest players

When asked what made her want to be an idol, Luna said, “I was performing on a big stage as a ballerina and there was just a voice in my head that made me want to start singing at the same time.”

Out of all the members, she's the cleanest and has an obsession with cleaning her surroundings

She has mentioned a lot of times that she dislikes doing aegyo but strangely enough, can do it naturally and unknowingly

All the members have confessed that they found her intimidating upon meeting her for the first time, idols and people who meet her for the first time have the same impression (because she has a resting bitch face)

Charming Point: Visuals, siren eyes, charisma, presence/aura, dimple, flirty personality, smirk smile, rbf

Specialty: Facial expressions, stage presence, versatility, flexibility, vocal prowess, trendsetter

Likes: Performing, dressing up, shopping, eating, baking, listening to music, sleeping, working out, reading, legos, classical music, ballet, bunnies

Dislikes: People who walk slowly, when the door gets left open, unorganized plans and surroundings, aegyo, spiders, darkness, tightly closed spaces

Motto: “I believed that I could and I did.”

Show more Luna facts. . .

Related: SEVENTEEN Discography | SEVENTEEN Members Profiles | SEVENTEEN Vocal Team Members | SEVENTEEN Hip Hop Team Members | SEVENTEEN Performance Team Members

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUEST AND ASK ME ANYTHING!

: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡ - lunaఌ

Taglist: @yeoberryx @minminghao @angie-x3

[melancholicbutterflies]

You Don’t Own Me

Summary: You’re tired of Elvis always telling you what you can and cannot do as his wife. You decide to pushback. He puts you in your place.

Warnings: underage, smut, dubious consent, bdsm themes (dd/lg), cursing, yandere!Elvis themes, breeding kink, 18+ (cannot stress this enough!) 

Word Count: 4,046

It was a decision you would come to regret, but you were young and naive, and dreaming of a better life. 

You met him at your high school. Elvis, up and coming rock ‘n roll sensation, had just returned from two years in the service and had successfully reformed his bad boy image in the eyes of parents everywhere. As such, he was permitted in venues since objected to (and the ones of teenage girls’ wet dreams). 

Elvis the Pelvis was coming to your school, and students and teachers alike were all abuzz. Growing up in a very Christian family, you weren’t allowed to watch his performances, and knew only what you heard from friends of less strict upbringings, and the odd radio programming when you snuck into the teacher’s lounge. 

Nothing could prepare you for what he looked like up close. Thick, dark hair that was somewhat cartoonish framed a devilishly handsome, tanned face with high cheekbones, sultry eyes, and a snarling smile that beckoned you. And he was tall, taller than any of the boys in class (although they were much younger, you had to concede). Still, he looked dapper in his suit, his well-loved acoustic guitar slung over his shoulder, devil hips cocked to one side. 

He was a stunner, all right, and you were as good as gone. 

You watched as he gave each and every person his undivided attention, all smiles and bashful head ducks. You wouldn’t have pegged him for humble, couldn’t imagine him being so with the amount of talent and charm and good looks he’d been endowed with, but he surpassed your every expectation. He was here to teach some scripture, and at some point he wove in some music, too. His voice was like a siren’s, no business singing such innocently devout lyrics. 

At the end everyone clapped, and he went to signing autographs; the line took up the whole classroom and wrapped around the hallway as other students from classes that broke out joined in. 

When it was your turn, he started, “who should I make it out to?” Pen poised, eyes tired as he lifted them to look at you with a waning smile, and he stopped. Nearly dropped the pad of paper then and there as he stared at you. You stared back, entranced, and found you were the first to break eye contact. “Well, it’s Y/N.” 

“Y/N, huh” he snapped out of his reverie, eyes alight with... something, as he licked his lips. “What a pretty name for a pretty gal,” he scribbled something on the pad of paper, barely legible, but finished with a heart. His next words you couldn’t predict in your most wondrous of fantasies: 

“Say, you wouldn’t wanna grab a burger and shake with me one o’ these days, would ya? Or am I gettin’ ahead of myself?” 

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish, in shock. He laughed, hair flopping as his head tossed back. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

You nodded vigorously, finally finding your words, albeit breathily. “Yes!” 

“It’s a date,” he said lowly, gaze now stuck on your lips. 

It was nothing short of sweet. You avoided your coworkers interested looks as you sat down with Elvis, who’d held your purse as you slid in the booth opposite. You were hungry and he vocalized he liked a girl who ate and set down a tip that was more than you made in a shift. Ice cream followed, a nice walk in the park, and he drove you home, politely not commenting on the sort of neighborhood you lived in. “I had a nice time,” he said in the low light of the fading sun, leaning in real close. “I did, too.” You said it as you looked down in your lap until he picked your chin up, forcing your gaze to his. You thought he looked sinful for someone so religious. 

“Good, because I really wanna kiss you, Y/N.”

You stopped him with a hand at his clavicle. “I can’t.” Looking backward, he saw a figure by the window, felt your sudden nervousness. It was about more than just want, and thankfully he understood. “Sure, baby, I get it. You’re unspoiled, aren’t you?” His eyes implored you. 

Reticently, you nodded, not fully understanding his meaning but knowing enough. 

It should have concerned you how happy he looked at that. 

Pretty soon he showed up everywhere. At the local diner, your ballet lessons, even one late night you were out walking your dog, Marnie. You could have sworn you saw a car at the end of the street, eyes watching under darkness. It was unnerving, it was exciting; you hadn’t experienced the weight of someone’s entire attention on you before now.

If you were less naive, you might have questioned why a grown man who had plenty else to do was expending so much effort getting to know you. It all became clear one day when he took you out to dinner, not just at any restaurant, but the fanciest one in town, followed by a romantic moon-lit walk at the beach and kneeled before you in the sand asking you to marry him. 

You said yes, of course, and he looked like the happiest man alive as he wrapped you up in a breathtaking kiss. You two couldn’t wait to get to his hotel, and made love right then and there, the sounds of the ocean waves lapping in the distance. 

He wanted to marry at once, and only a few days later you were at the courthouse exchanging vows. None of your friends could come (they were all in school), and only a few of his came, including his father, who hadn’t exactly looked favorably on you, but knew his son couldn’t be reasoned with once he set his mind to something. The colonel scowled in the corner, smoking his pipe up a storm. Your mom and dad wanted nothing to do with the whole affair and had all too happily washed their hands of you, signing paperwork to allow you to wed before your eighteenth birthday. 

When it was time to say, ‘I do’, you did so enthusiastically, and a beautiful smile broke out on his handsome face. He pulled you in, thumbing your bridal veil, and kissed you like a man possessed. You were forever changed in that moment. 

Mrs. Elvis Presley. It was like a dream come true.

And for a while, it was. 

Elvis was attentive, doting, a true joy to be around. He took care of everything for you. You wanted for nothing. You were happy, happier than you ever thought possible in your short and, up till now, wretched life. Elvis changed everything for you, and you were eternally grateful. 

But, like all dreams, there came a time when reality set in. The bubble burst. Oh, boy, did it ever. 

It started with little things, at first. 

Before he’d met you, you worked at a diner waiting tables. Now that you were married, he claimed there was no reason to keep waitressing. “Waste of time,” he remarked, “’sides, who’d wanna keep on their feet like that all day long when you don’t have’ta? Nuh-uh, didn’t think so. You’ll put in your notice tomorrah’.” 

You thought to object, but he had a point. It was enjoyable enough to you, sure, passed the time all right, and gave you some pocket change to buy things for yourself that your parents never would. But now with Elvis occupying your days, and making just about a hundred times what you ever did after a full day’s work just sitting around, what was the point? Your coworkers, as nice as they were, were hardly reason enough. 

So you promptly shut your mouth and smiled, giving him a big hug, and that was that. 

Then it was your hair: 

“Oh, doll,” he crooned one night after a heavy bout of lovemaking, running his meaty paw through your thick, wavy hair. “Wouldn’t you look good with straightened hair?” 

You turned to him in mild surprise, still blissed out. “You never said a thing about my hair before. Don’t you like it?”

“Oh, ‘course I do, baby. I just thought you might like to keep up with the fashion is all. All them girls have their hair straight these days.” 

“I guess that’s true.” You admitted. “And, say, maybe you ‘oughta darken it while you’re at it. Might be nice to have us match, you know.” You touched a hand to your hair, furrowing your brows as he leaned in to nuzzle your neck, applying light, sweet kisses there. It was awfully distracting, your hand falling limp on the bed as you gasped. 

“Promise me you’ll think ‘bout it, at least...” He murmured low between kisses that went ever lower. “Oh, sure.” 

“Good girl,” he growled, and he said something about “...have Jer make an appointment at that salon o’ Sandy’s.” And he proceeded to eat you out. 

As time went on, that charming, subtle needling to shift your behaviors in his favor turned meaner:

Once before a press conference, he stopped you in the hallway, seizing your arm. “Hey, what’s wrong—” you winced as he twisted it around harshly in an effort to inspect your hand. “Quit it, E, that hurts.” 

“What is this?” He looked at you angrily, disappointed, even. 

“What is what?” You didn’t see anything other than your ring, which was where it should be, on your ring finger without anything out of the ordinary. When you saw where his eyes were directed, you realized he meant your nail polish. 

“So it’s a little chipped. Who cares?”

“Who cares?” He seethed. “I care, and if you had any sense in ya you would too! Everything you do reflects on me, little girl, so when you look like a cheap hussy, you make me look bad. Make ‘em think I can’t take care of my baby. Get it?” 

He wasn’t shouting, he wasn’t even raising his voice, but the venom dripping from his quiet wrath was so much worse. 

Tears built at the corner of your eyes and you ducked your head, turning on your heel to run back toward the bedroom before he caught you by the arm again. You thought he’d apologize, say he overreacted. He didn’t. Instead he said: “Dry those eyes, girl, and put on a smile. I don’t care if it ain’t real, but I won’t have ya embarrassin’ me.” 

It only snowballed from there.

Your whole wardrobe was thrown out, and a new one replaced to match with Elvis’. You didn’t finish school, didn’t do ballet anymore. You still cooked and baked now and then, but only on special occasions. Mary did all the real cooking in the house, and she already knew what Elvis liked and she did it well. Drinking, although technically not even legal, was forbidden (“a lady shouldn’t drink, you’ll get sloppy and less chivalrous men than myself’ll take advantage. Don’t want that, do ya?”)

Want to go to the movie with some friends? Think again. Boys weren’t allowed anywhere in your vicinity: he barely let Red, trusted bodyguard of the Memphis Mafia, guard you. He said he didn’t like his wandering eye one time. Personally, you thought he was delusional, but didn’t bother arguing since you hadn’t exactly taken a liking to the man. 

Your friends were more acquaintances now, and when you saw them, you didn’t know what to say. They’d moved on, had new friends or new boyfriends. They felt you abandoned them (you did, although not intentionally). You never felt more alone in your life, and yet you were never alone; Elvis made sure of that, always having someone stay behind to watch you when he couldn’t.

Eventually it was the summer, your first summer as a married couple in fact, and you were invited to your cousin’s wedding. It was her high school sweetheart; they got the bug from you and wanted to get hitched as soon as they graduated high school. You were hellbent on making it to that wedding, come hell or high water. Elvis, as your husband, was of course also invited and expected as your plus one. They were renting out a small venue in Nashville, and the bride-to-be wanted you as her bridesmaid if not the maid-of-honor (a role you suspected in the back of your mind would have easily been yours pre-Elvis, but post-Elvis you was less reliable, and you couldn’t fault her for making that decision). 

Elvis’ first reaction to it surprised you. After all, he’d hardly wanted you to leave his side and had grown increasingly controlling. So when he said, “Sure, hunny,” you almost questioned if you’d imagined it.

You were ecstatic. “Oh, thank you, Elvis. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Each word of gratitude was punctured by a kiss all over his face and any other bare patch of skin you could reach. He laughed that booming laugh of his and pulled you in to give you a proper one. “Well, if that’s the way you were gonna thank me I ‘oughta have more o’ your friends get married!” 

This was Fall. Now that it was summertime, and the wedding weekend was upon you, he put his foot down. 

“No,” he said simply, not even sparing you a glance as he casually strummed his acoustic guitar, legs spread apart on the couch. Your mouth nearly fell to the floor, and you felt a distinct ringing in your ears, your heartbeat speeding up. Blinking, you saw a few of his Mafia crew milling about, pretending they’d gone deaf and blind as your temper rose. 

“What?” You screeched. 

You did. 

You almost forgot what it sounded like, your defiance. It was spectacular, and you thought you had never felt so angry in your life. 

And you had a right to, damn it. You did everything this man said and more. You dyed your hair black, you straightened it to his liking, you always had a fresh paint of nails, you wore the dresses he picked out for you, even the ones with the ruffles that you couldn’t stand, and wanted to make you tear your eyes out of your sockets. You stopped working because he said so (although that was not entirely something worth fighting). But you left school, and you stopped talking to your friends for months until they stopped trying so hard and all you had was him and his damn Mafia. The girlfriends and wives didn’t even hardly talk to you. You were too young and there was very little in common. 

You think you spewed all this out to him in your rage, not thinking it even made sense, but you wanted him to feel what he put you through, and being his wasn’t enough if you didn’t have a life outside of his wants and desires. 

Finally, chest heaving, out of words to say in your tirade, you saw him through blurry, teary eyes. He’d frozen, shoulders hunched, body tensed for a fight. He looked around the room, but he needn’t — his Mafia was nowhere to be seen now. His eyes cut to you, dark and stormy, as he rose to his full height and strode towards your panting figure. 

It was a sight to behold, your husband so angry. He’d been cross with you — lord knew he’d been annoyed on many an occasion — but enraged was new. It felt like the point of no return. Like he’d really hurt you this time, all those words about never laying a hand on a woman falling by the wayside.

“Now, Elvis, hold on now—”

“Long past time for that, baby. You been backsassin’ me and I won’t stand for it.”

Your eyes cut to the side, seeing a crack in the doorway.

“Don’t you even think about it, lil’ girl.” Elvis growled. You yelped as he took you in his arms, forcefully tugging you to the couch where he fell back against it, the momentum leaving you to fall across his lap in a rather unlady-like manner. 

“Elvis, please, I’m sorry,” you began, attempting in vain to rise from the precarious position he had you in. His arm only tightened its hold around your waist much like a boa constrictor around its prey. “Should’a thought ‘a that before you went off like that. Now, sit tight and take your punishment.” 

He hit you, then. He actually did it. But it wasn’t across your face or strangling your neck like you’d heard some women claiming of their husbands. He’d pulled up your dress so that it hung your belly and pulled down your lace underwear so that you were bare-bottomed and smacked your butt with his open palm, rings and all. 

You gasped first, shocked that it had happened, and that it felt like it did; the contrast of his warm skin and the cold metal rings was a contrast you hadn’t known you needed. Then as one became two, and two became three, and four and five, and so on... you’d lost track, a strange feeling built up in your lower abdomen that felt familiar yet also foreign. 

Were you... enjoying this absurd, perverted version of punishment?  Surely you weren’t getting turned on by your husband beating you like an errant child? 

And yet... you couldn’t deny the flare of hot want flowing through you, and you certainly couldn’t deny the wet stickiness that started collecting in your bared cunt. You had to bite your lip from making your desire audible; you were angry, aghast that your husband would go to such lengths for simply voicing your very legitimate frustrations to him. 

When a slap fell slightly lower, just catching the bottom of your pussy lips, you couldn’t contain your excitement. A moan slipped past your lips. 

Elvis froze, cock hardening in his pants some.

Your eyes widened, cursing yourself internally. The last thing you wanted was for the bastard to know some part of you was enjoying yourself. You wouldn’t look at him, burying your head in the side of his thigh, even as you felt that hot and searing gaze of his on you. You were humiliated, something you hadn’t thought possible after what he’d already done. 

“Well, well,” he drawled, voice deeper, thick with lust. “Seems my baby likes this more than she should.” 

“Please, Elvis, let me go,” you begged.” You’ve had your fun, being humiliated like this is punishment enough.” 

He laughed, barrel chest vibrating against you. “Oh, hunny, I ain’t nearly done with you. In fact,” he circled your ass with his palm, your slick wetting his fingers now. “The fun’s just begun.” 

“What—” You interjected, only to cry out loudly (or perhaps moan, it was some contrived version of the two), as he promptly pushed his fingers deep into your crevice, the warm, wet walls hugging his long digits with gusto. 

He hissed, “oh, baby girl, that vice of yours just about does my head in. I need to be inside you now.” He started fumbling with his slacks, the belt coming undone in record time as he pulled his rock-hard cock out of his boxers. He gave it a good tug, grimacing at the action. The tip was red and weeping, practically twitching with need. 

“C’mere,” he said, positioning you where he wanted you like a doll. “On all fours, that’s right, just like that hunny.” Your knees met the carpeted floor, hair falling around you like a curtain as your head bent. You know he could go deep like this, but usually you had sex facing one another. He could piss you off to no end, but sex was always a sacred thing between you two. This felt cold, unfeeling. Fucking was what it was; he could care less to see you, he only wanted to possess you. You felt cheap, a plaything — and yet your cunt continued to thud with need. 

“Jesus, you’re a pretty sight,” he rubbed his cock over your pussy lips, grab at your ass, take another smack of it and delighting in the jiggle of it. “Please, Elvis, just...” You pleaded, and he cut a look at you. “Don’t think you’re much in the position to be makin’ any sorta demands, doll.” 

You hung your head, sighing, waiting for him to get his fill. “Oh, hell,” he said, “you’re lucky I can’t hardly wait anymore either.” And with that he pushed into you, causing a surprised yelp to leave your throat. Pulling on your hair, causing your back to arch towards him, he set a punishing, brutal pace, one that hard you seeing stars. In this position, he could hit your g-spot dead on, and hit it he did. 

“Oh, godddd,” you groaned, scraping a hand back to hold onto his arm holding onto you. He huffed a laugh that turned strangled toward the end. “Not God, darlin’, but close.” 

You would have snorted at the cheesy line if you weren’t full of his cock. 

“Nothin’ to say?” He taunted. “That’s a real shame. To think you just needed some good dick to quiet down. Bet you ain’t never had one good as me.” 

It wasn’t a statement, he expected an answer, but you were too far gone in the blissed-out feeling to recognize it.

Smacking your sore ass harshly, he repeated his words. “Ain’t you? Say it, or I swear to God I’ll stop right now and won’t let you come.” 

“Yes, E, yes! You’re the best I’ve had,” you cried as the building sensation waned. “That ain’t my name, try again.” 

“Daddy,” you whispered, feeling some shame about it. You always felt weird about calling him that even though your relationship with you father had never been close, but he demanded you refer to him in that way. 

“Daddy what?”

“Daddy you’re the best I’ve ever had,” you admitted. He smiled; really, you would have said anything to have him keep fucking you the way he was.

“That’s right,” he pet your head, slipping his cock back into your tight hole as your eyes rolled back in your head. “You’re my good girl when you’re like this, almost forgotten you was bad earlier. Throwin’ a temper tantrum back there after all I done for you. Ungrateful. And for what? Some weddin’ you felt you needed to go to?” He tutted you, each word punctured by a punishing stab at your cervix; the pain intermingled with pleasure to create a heady concoction leaving you at a loss of words. Intelligible ones, anyhow. 

“Ye-ah...” you moaned. 

“What was that?” Elvis goaded, pinching your swinging titties between his hands. 

“A-agree, I w-was bein’ bad.” 

“Right. ‘Cause the only person you should be worryin’ about is me. Your husband.” 

“Mhm.” 

“Hmm,” he hummed deeply. “Need you just as much, more than ‘em. Can’t have you halfway ‘cross the state if somethin’ came up.” 

He soothed your head, running his fingers through your dampening hair. “Need my yittle baby by my side, and she needs her daddy,” he cooed in the baby-talk language he loved so much. 

You nodded, more so due to the buildup in your pelvic region. He groaned, feeling the tighening in his balls as your walls started fluttering around him. 

“Shit, hunny, you got me ready to burst. You gon’ take it? Take all my lovin’?” 

“Yes, Daddy! I’ll take it all.” 

“Gonna fill you up,” he mumbled, hips moving erratically now. “Fill you up with my babies ‘till your big and swollen with my seed. Shi-itt—!” 

You cried out at the sensation of his warmth shooting into you, triggering your orgasm. 

“Agh!” He yelled, falling over you, hips slowly still moving as if to fuck more into you. You collapsed on the floor, and he was right behind you. You two laid on the floor in the fading light that spilled through the French windows. 

Turning so that he was looking at you, he pulled your face to his in a deep, slow kiss. “You gonna let Daddy take care of you?” 

You hesitated, knowing what he wanted of you. “Yes, Daddy. I’ll make the call tonight.” 

He grinned, looking every bit the angel and devil as he hovered over you. “Good girl.” 

[tokiwarcube]

I always wondered what the boys would think if their s/o was in a band (the genre is up to you) and they have the same position in the band as the boys. This has been a thought that won’t leave me alone, help me!!

P.s I love your writings for these 5 silly men !! :)

Aww, thank you so much!! I absolutely fell in love with this prompt -- and I had an absolute blast writing it! Now I will Also be thinking about this forever, haha. Enjoy! <3

(Implied NS/FW warning for Pickles' section!)

Nathan Explosion

My simple, multi-platinum krillionaire rockstar — for as much as he daydreams about what life would have been like if he got to live like a regular jack-off, it’s just not the path for him. So dating another famous lead vocalist? Right up his alley.

He actually likes it more than he thought — it’s nice to bounce lyrics off of you, and vice versa. Toying with pitch, cadence, and intonation, all the different vocal techniques without judgement of sounding silly… Your halls are always alive with the sound of music… even if the subject is about death and murder, it’s its own form of magic.

But singing at home and singing in concert are two very, very different beasts. He wasn’t prepared for how intense you could be on stage, with the band to back you up. Your confidence as you stride, growling so mean he can feel it in his blood before perking back up to bounce away? All of your little stunts? Half of him is taking notes for their next show, and half of him is utterly starstruck. Your eyes dart over to him every now and again, smiling when you notice his wide eyes. His breath hitches when you throw a little wave to him in response, and he can’t help the breathless “holy shit” that falls from his lips.

You’re not as popular as Dethklok, but you couldn’t tell that from inside the venue walls — with how easily you command the crowd, he’s certain you were a siren in a past life. Or now. You could tell everyone in this room to jump off a bridge, and they would, he’s certain of it.

That would make a good song, actually…

Pickles the Drummer

Pickles has a pretty sizable repertoire of instrument proficiency — bass, guitar, keys… a brief stint with an alto sax, as a bit… and currently, drums. He’s got a soft spot in his heart for all of it, each instrument representing a specific era of his life, but he’s found himself enjoying the drums the most. It’s strong, supportive — every song needs a beat! It takes a specific personality to play drums well, and it’s one that he both embodies within himself, and covets when in others.

This is all to say — he finds it very hot that you play drums.

And as a man who appreciates a nice set of legs, he very much likes the effects drumming has on your calves. Your calves might be sore after a long practice session, but that’s nothing compared to the bites he’ll leave later in the night.

He also loves to watch you play — sweat rolling down the column of your throat as you raise your hands above your head for another well-timed strike, lost in the rhythm… Woof.

You’ve kind of gotta beat him back with a stick while on tour if you ever want to go out for drinks after a show — if he had it his way, he’d be spending the post-concert glow in the hotel, letting you know just how much he liked your performance.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

Anyone looking in would assume this would be a point of competition, but he actually really loves having someone he can talk technical with! Despite being in Dethklok, he doesn’t really get to talk guitar often — Toki, Murderface, and Pickles can play, sure, but the former two don’t give a fuck about technique, and Pickles just doesn’t care about it enough to chat about it outside of the studio.

He loves hearing about all of the little musical decisions you’ve contributed to in each song — don’t think he didn’t catch the time signature change there. Just a single bar, why? Or this section here, that was a reprise of the first song in the album — how are they connected? He catches all the little details, and he wants to know all about them. In this same vein, he’s also great to bounce ideas off of when you’re in a rut… but be careful! His ideas are damn-good, and at this rate, he might just need a spot in the writer’s credits.

It’s very fun to just sit down and jam with him, passing the melody back and forth as your improvised tune grows. He calls it practice — and in a sense, it is — but really, he just likes playing with you.

He pushes to have your tours alternate with Dethklok’s so he can be at all of your shows, and vice versa — you have his full attention during your solos, and he’s not above slapping the boys to get them to shuts up so he can hear you in all of your glory.

He’s pretty stationary on stage — such is the downside of working with a bunch of uncoordinated dumbasses. (He is not exempt from this.) But if you have the agility and focus to bounce around on stage while playing? Oh, he didn’t think he could fall in love any further. He didn’t think he was capable of being starstruck, but you’ve proven him wrong tenfold. He’ll happily brave a couple thousand rabid fans for the pit experience — sorry to all the people stuck behind his towering self, but being backstage is nothing compared to barrier. The flashing lights, choking fog and towering flames only make you look more beautiful than ever, and he can’t help but reach out to you when you waggle your fingers at the crowd.

Personally offended if you don’t throw him at least one pick on tour. He does not care that he is 1.) Dating you, and 2.) Has limitless access to your stash. It’s the principle.

You wear each other’s picks on necklaces <3

Toki Wartooth

You play rhythm too? Wowee! You’re so good, though — how are you not playing solos?

He is completely gobsmacked by the fact that not only are you not the lead guitarist, but that you don’t care to be, either. I mean, he has Skwisgaar to compete against — and as loathe as he is to say it, it’s a pretty fucking high bar to surpass. But you? You could easily play lead! You just don’t want to? What?

He doesn’t really get it, but he writes it off as just you being humble. Beyond that, your similarity doesn’t really play too big of a role in your shared lives! But when concert season rolls around, he’s insistent about hanging out at barrier, just so he can see what it’s like to be at one of your shows. And then, then, that’s when he gets it.

You never seem to stand still, bouncing this way and that, playing in ways he never even thought possible. You don’t need to play solos to wow the crowd — hell, he’s been practically raised by the most popular band in the world, but with you in front of him now, he feels like just another one of your adoring fans itching at the chance to even be seen. Nobody cheers louder than Toki, and he’s insistent on going to each and every one of your shows.

After show from here on out he’ll interlock hands with you, congratulating you on yet another show well-done. He traces the callouses on your fingertips, heart swelling with giddiness at dating such a badass guitarist.

William Murderface

Finally, someone else who appreciates a good bass line. A band is nothing without the bass, especially metal, and it’s nice to talk to someone else who understands that. Especially after being AJFA’d out off all their most recent albums.

Playing bass is a very thankless job — you have to support the entire band, giving them structure and direction without any of the thanks that the rhythm guitar or the drums get. The most, and I mean the most that he gets, is a solo at the end of the show. Which is fun, but you know… it’s very much a job that you take because you love the big picture, not the details.

That’s his point of view, anyways. Because the second he sees you in-show, his whole world gets flipped on his head.

You have a very confident poise on stage — unshakeable, much like the deep notes that you pluck from the instrument. And yet, you command attention from the crowd effortlessly. It’s like you were made for this — all long strides and sneaky smiles as you move around on stage. And despite the eccentricity of your fellow bandmates — a very energetic show, he’s noticed — you still draw a sizable amount of attention from the packed arena, and man does he wish he was in the pit right now so he could get that sly little smile head-on. And huh, maybe bass can be fun, after all.

He loves to brag about you, and will do so at any opportunity.

After seeing your prowess on stage, he starts practicing a bit outside of concert season… and then more, and more, until he finally feels ready enough to fight to get the bass turned up in the next Dethalbum. Thanksch, babe.

[officialdaydreamer00]

Plushies!

in which they find a plushie of you in their dorm room

format: bullet headcanons

characters: jade leech, floyd leech

content: silly eels and their silly antics, a birthday present for my favourite boys ^^

reader is not yuu, reader is gender neutral

oya? what a pleasant surprise you have for him, prefect.

it actualy caught him off guard when he saw it on one of his pillows

as he examined and took in all the details of the plushie, he saw a little paper tied to its arm

this was a gift you yourself made, just for him? oh, he's honored. he adores it, simply for the fact that you took time and effort to make him such meaningful gift.

he had this silly, lovesick smile on his face as his gloved hands linger on the plushie's face, fully intended to cuddle with it that night.

it may not feel as complete compare to you, but this will suffice. he thought, pressing his lips on the plushie's forehead, as if you were right there in his arms.

maybe, he should plan a picnic in the forest, just the two of you.

awww, little shrimpy gave him a mini shrimpy!

his first reaction was to squeeze it as hard as humanly possible and shake it around like a pinball.

it's not his fault that the plushie was so cute, and it looks like you! he has a wide happy grin on his face as he hugged the plushie close.

only then he saw the letter on the plushie's arm, crumbled under his tight grip.

once he read it, the grin only got 100x times brighter as he squeezed the plushie, kicking his feet lightly.

aww, shrimpy. your gift really made his day. and he was very vocal about it, too, to the point he brought the plushie to his birthday party at school.

he's gonna either squeeze you hard or smooch you silly the next several times he sees you. probably both, if he can help it.

visual example of the plushie in question:

this is one of my irls btw :D

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reblogs are important and very appreciated!!