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matrixbearer2024 · 3 months

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Karaoke Cacophony

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: This song is legitimately the reason why I ended up posting the poll that I did lmao- but if you check the lyric translations- it oddly fits the vibe for both Vox and Reader. Though it's only going to embarrass our resident TV man since our dear (Y/N) has absolutely no idea what the song actually means. Just that it sounds nice and it's something they heard over the radio back then when growing up. Vox has a built-in google translate thing so he can understand others better no matter what language, it just so happens that this hits him like a double-edged sword where he has no idea if he would've been better off not understanding the song and just appreciating the melody of your voice. BTW this interlude features an HC I have for Vox where he cooks sometimes because the systematic way it's done helps calm him down, it's inspired by something I read before but yeah- ALSO ALSO- some part kind of features reader being cracked out of their minds with pickup lines I pulled from one of @voxsremotec0ck's posts LMAO.

A/N: Also my cousin has had a HEAVY hand to play in this song choice, though her reasoning was mostly because of Angel's initial comment that watching Vox and Reader's interactions were like seeing a romcom plot unfold live. So why not go a little bit off tangent and relate them to a romantic fairytale? I also may have sorta kinda written a lot of this chapter while I myself was on a hyperactive streak because of some caffeine- Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this interlude and as always- Happy Reading!

youtube

After a while and back and forth of those games, you and Vox eventually stopped joining in despite the others still continuing to play.

You and your partner in crime had become preoccupied with laughing at memes or poking fun at whatever stupid trend was currently a fad online.

You were currently leaning against the technology overlord while he had one arm around you, the other using to poke at your phone every now and again.

The two of you were practically cuddling at this point from how close you both were but neither noticed nor even seem to care.

"They have the tidepod challenge too? Geez, people are kind of-"

"Idiotic? Stupid? Batshit crazy?"

"Pretty much."

"This is hell dollface, I'm not sure why you expected any different."

You just casually shrugged in reply, soon laughing at a dumb video you found whilst scrolling.

Vox couldn't help but subtly stare at you, especially when you seemed to be so cheerful just messing around or doing whatever.

Seeing your smile always made his day just a little bit brighter.

"Hey Vox! Stop being absolutely whipped for a second and help me out over here!"

The overlord in question just sputtered in confusion at Lucifer's words.

He wasn't whipped!

He just- admired you a lot.

Even you had raised eyebrows at the odd word choice, whipped- wasn't exactly what you would use to describe your flatscreen companion.

Not when you kind of had an inkling to what it meant.

"What are you even doing??"

Vox called back, finally taking his eyes off you and your phone to just look over in the kitchen's general direction.

Lucifer did mention about making a snack earlier, but why would the king of hell need his help of all people??

What was he planning this time???

"Something! Just get over here!!"

You just gave your companion a shrug when he looked back to you, encouraging him to just go and get it over with.

Besides, you guys could always just continue doing this and messing around when he was finished with... whatever Lucifer needed him for.

Well, that was until your brain immediately stomped on the brakes when you looked at Vox again.

He'd undone his cuffs to roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows, revealing some... bare forearms.

Before he just nonchalantly stood up and walked off towards the kitchen when the king of hell called for him again.

He didn't seem to have noticed your shattered mental-

You had dropped your phone at that point, just blinking and spacing out like an idiot before Angel noticed.

"Woaaah, what happened to (Y/N)?"

"Huh, I didn't think we'd ever see them actually speechless."

"Oooh oooh! Does that mean (Y/N) likes bad boys?!"

You shook your head in an attempt to snap out of it but couldn't stop the blush from creeping up your neck.

Oh. My. God.

You were completely in the gutter now-

Similarly to Alastor, you noticed Vox was always wearing long-sleeves or an outfit that concealed any skin at all.

And while it left you wondering what he had to hide, that consequently would lead you to imagine how he'd look like without a shirt on.

Was he just a mess of wires or something?

Did he conceal so much because he was robotic to a degree?

You had no clue how Vox's biology even worked and you didn't know how to ask without sounding weird.

Not to mention how he's able to wear some kinds of shirts given his obnoxiously sized head-

It's just curiosity is all!

You could only slap Angel's hands away when he started cautiously poking you, and you were practically steaming out of your ears from embarrassment.

It wasn't the fact that your flatscreened friend seemed to show some skin that set you off-

It was the fact your brain somehow went autopilot and registered it as HOT.

You were sure Velvette had fashioned him the outfit so it didn't surprise you that Vox looked all dapper and smart.

Dare you even say the fucking TV looked handsome-

You just didn't think he could look any better.

Until he did that.

And consequently nuked the rest of your sanity with it.

"Yep, they're totally broken-"

"Angel shut up before I beat you to death with a pillow I swear to god-"

"Oh good, you're finally reacting toots."

You merely flipped him the bird and just hid your face in your other hand, why was everything in your body trying to go on overdrive?!

"What's got you all blushy anyway? It's like you've just watched a racy porno."

"What?! No! I just- you- I don't even fucking know-"

Angel was about to continue poking at you before Lucifer and Vox finally returned.

Both chatting amiably while holding what seems to be a plate or two of treats and snacks.

So that's where they both went-

And that was when the spider noticed your gaze practically zero in on your techno-centric friend.

Ha, friend-

Yeah nobody in the hotel with half a brain believed that for even a second-

Though there didn't seem to be any differences with Vox-

His outfit was still the same, just his sleeves were...

Oh.

OH.

"WOW TOOTS YOU'RE SUCH A FUCKING PRUDE OH MY GOD-"

You just shrieked incoherently at Angel and started whacking him with a couch cushion while everyone else kind of just watched you both confused.

Not to mention that you were pretty much a tomato from how red you've become.

The arachnid couldn't stop himself from just devolving into a loud laughing fit.

You had completely lost it because of some forearms, he could only imagine what your reaction would be if a certain technology overlord decided to undo some shirt buttons.

You'd probably just die on the spot!

"Uh... what happened?"

"No idea, but it sure as hell is entertaining."

By the time you were able to relatively calm down, you were still red when Vox just sat down next to you again.

"Soooo, any reason for trying to murder Angel with a pillow?"

"None that concerns you."

"Oh come on, it's gotta be something crazy if you don't tell even me."

You just adamantly shake your head and refuse to say anything no matter what Vox tried.

It was kind of cute seeing you try so hard, despite the fact the overlord knew he could always just ask the others about it later.

He didn't think it was anything too big, after all you would embarrassed by a lot of random things.

So he didn't even bother guessing at this point.

"What did you and Lucifer make anyway?"

"Hm? Chocolate strawberries, do you want some?"

"Seriously? That's what he needed help with?"

"I'm just as confused as you are doll, anyway- open your mouth."

Vox just chuckles when you shyly follow his instructions, forcing himself to look away before grabbing one of the strawberries and placing it into your mouth.

He'd be lying if he said the way you looked didn't give him other ideas.

You seeming insanely kissable being just one of them.

While the overlord knew making the treat consumed more time than just going out and probably buying it-

Seeing your eyes sparkle when you bit down made him consider that it was a little more worth it to put in that extra homemade touch.

"Didn't pin you for a guy that could cook."

You remarked, taking the plate from him and just eagerly chowing down.

Vox just chuckled, watching you so happily munch away.

You were just really cute in your own little way, not that he would ever say so.

Especially when you seemed so pleased at just such a simple snack.

"I'm not surprised, I don't exactly... have that vibe? I can cook though, it's something I do on the off chance to calm down."

"And still you eat that McDonald's garbage-"

"It's not garbage! I'm just too busy to actually cook sometimes! Running a media empire isn't easy dollface."

"The next time you do cook, I wanna try your food."

"Hm? What makes you say that?"

"Dunno, just wanna try it."

The overlord simply raised an eyebrow at you, though he didn't seem to mind your words much.

And as you scarfed down on the strawberries, he noticed a smear of chocolate streaking across your cheek.

How it got there- Vox wasn't entirely sure.

Possibly from your enthusiastic eating but he didn't really care enough at the moment to find out.

"Wait, you've got some chocolate on your face."

You looked at your companion with wide eyes when he gingerly raised a hand to wipe at your face.

The way his gaze was both calm and focused at you made your heart skip a beat.

The plate of treats in front of you now mostly forgotten.

"There. Didn't think you'd be such a messy eater doll."

He didn't seem to notice your mind kind of stall, picking up a chocolate strawberry himself to eat it.

It was a little too sweet for his taste, which was odd considering his already innate knack for deserts.

You seemed to like it though, so he didn't say anything.

And that was when Vox also noticed your more than obvious staring.

You weren't even trying to hide it were you?

Admittedly, the overlord got a little embarrassed because of it.

"Take a picture darling, it'll last longer."

"Nah, I think I would much rather look at the real thing. A picture can only do so much."

You smirked when you saw his screen proceed to tinge pink, especially when you heard his fans kick to life.

He never could get the upper hand with you, which was hilariously cute in it's own way.

It didn't take long for you to eventually get used to Vox's charm over the while you've known him.

Even if at times it would strike you when you least expected it.

You simply went back to snacking contentedly.

After a short while, all the treats were gone and you were practically bouncing off the walls with energy.

So what did you do with that sugar rush?

Absolutely torment and flirt the life out of Vox.

Slamming pickup line after pickup line into his already preoccupied mind space.

Well it was preoccupied with you to begin with but let's not mention that-

"Hey Vox- Hey Vox- Hey Vox-"

"What is it dollface?"

"Do you have a bandaid?"

"No...? Why?"

"Because I think I scraped my knee falling for you!"

He buffered a little bit but just played off being flustered with a scoff.

The rest of the hotel crew were not so subtly watching all of this go down just waiting for your overlord friend to crack.

Angel and Husker already made bets on how fast he would go down glitching -

"That was horrible."

"Nah nah nah wait I got another one-"

The overlord didn't really mind it at first, aside from the fact he was a little surprised.

Until the point it got so stupidly suggestive and then he actually had trouble dealing with the provocative ideas he got from you.

"You know, I'm just gonna start calling you my big toe."

"Your... what??"

"My big toe, so I can bang you all over the place."

The overlord had to actually ignore the snickering and hushed laughter from your spectators, why were you doing this to him of all people?!

Though as horrible as the pickup lines were, Vox would be lying if he said they weren't hitting their mark.

He was just... a little better at hiding it.

And that wasn't even the end of your tomfoolery-

Actually far from it.

Vox made a mental note to watch out for your sugar rush episodes from this point onwards.

You weren't ever this bad from what he could remember either-

Well, you would just blitz through nearly everything during a hyperactive episode before the impending sugar crash.

But never tried to flirt the socks off him!

"Are you a fitted sheet?"

"A fitted sheet? What's that got to do with-"

"Cuz you're complicated as fuck but I still need you spread across my bed."

Vox stared at you wide-eyed for a whole ass second-

Before his screen predictably started showing errors and he glitched uncontrollably.

Angel just keeled over from laughter at that point when the overlord's face went absolutely haywire.

He didn't quite bluescreen, but his screen did buffer and spazz a whole lot for a minute or so.

To which you just celebrated and cheered.

"HELL YEAAAAH! I BROKE HIM IN FIVE FUCKING SECONDS!"

That just made your arachnid friend laugh even harder.

You were an unbridled chaotic ball of energy hyped up on sugar-

But Charlie- being Charlie-

Felt a little bad for Vox being the target of your madness- and stepped in and try to direct your hyperactivity elsewhere.

However, because she had done it on a whim- she actually had no ideas what to do with you.

So she just randomly suggested karaoke.

Which seemed to get your attention anyway.

When Vox finally came crashing back into reality, he was surprised to see both you and Lucifer just tormenting a very staticky and clearly very irritated Alastor.

"YOU'RE A LOOOOSER BAMBI- A LOOOOSER-"

What even was that song?

"Huh, you were out for a while."

"What- did I miss something?? What happened?"

"Your hyperactive lover just being a menace to Alastor, other than that nothing much."

"They're not my-"

"Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that."

Vox doesn't even have the opportunity to fully retort before you suddenly ran over to him with a grin.

Apparently you noticed he was fine again-

This time he was just the slightest bit worried.

You were literally shaking from the sugar rush- oh goodness-

"Oh good you're awake! I wanted to show you something!"

Vox didn't have the option to refuse when you just dragged him over to the couch and plopped him down next to everyone else.

"Okay okay! There's this song I used to listen to because I loved the melody and how nice it sounded but I actually have no idea what it means because it's not in English and-"

Safe to say the overlord spaced out during your rambling, only picking up the important bits of your spiel.

Which TL;DR, was just that you had a song you wanted to sing but didn't actually understand.

He only snapped out of his trance when he finally heard your voice slow down to the soft piano melody.

Well, the words you were saying definitely weren't in English-

So Vox secretly decided to translate what you were saying.

Having the internet being an extension of his conscious mind was a little bit of advantage here.

Then he figured out what the lyrics were.

And almost crashed again.

"I've forgotten how long it's been since I heard you telling me, your favorite story~"

He didn't really know whether his curiosity was a good or bad thing here.

Especially when it hit him that this was a love song.

The overlord was absolutely not prepared for this at all.

"I have been thinking for a long time, I started to panic."

Sure, the lyrics weren't exactly a fit to you-

But for him?

Especially when you had still been alive?

A 100% coincidental match.

Or he thinks it's mere coincidence.

"Have I done something wrong~?"

Oh god no do not look at him like that-

Nope nope nope nope-

It took every ounce of control for Vox to just not crash again right then and there.

"You said to me full of tears: 'Fairy tales are all lies.'"

You'd memorized the song, so it made sense that you didn't need to look at the lyrics to sing.

But could you seriously stop looking at him so fondly?

You didn't even know the words you were saying, this was so unfair.

"I couldn't possibly be your prince."

That just made him think back on all the past times he was trying to be... "friendly".

Well, almost borderline romantic even when he was willing to throw down nearly everything for your sake if you so much as asked.

Not that you noticed, Vox doubted you ever would even if it slapped you in the face.

"Perhaps you won't understand- ever since you said you loved me!"

Angel just smirked when he heard the signature whirring of computer fans.

Though he wasn't sure if it was because the overlord got flustered from your singing or because he understood.

Well, it wasn't his problem-

Because it was downright hilarious how insanely oblivious you were.

"The stars in my sky shine brightly!"

Where you were concerned, that was always the case.

Not at the start of course-

But it became adamantly clear when Vox found himself eager to see what kind of chaos you would stir up next.

"I'm willing to become the angel of the fairytale that you love-"

You extended your hand out to him, a silent invite to the tech overlord asking to dance.

He chuckled and smiled at you.

Of course he'd take up that offer.

"Spread up my hands that become wings to protect you~"

The two of you just swayed and danced around to the melody, becoming engrossed once more in your own little world.

You didn't even know what you were singing, but judging by the fond look Vox had directed at you-

It seemed he was enjoying it.

So you continued to indulge him.

"You have to believe, believe that we can be like in the fairy tale!"

You blushed a little bit when he'd twirled you around, after all-

You'd never really danced like this before.

It was like a... different kind of waltz.

Still, it made you feel so dainty.

His gaze just made you feel like the most beautiful thing in the world.

"Happy and joyful in the ending~"

The rest of your friends were amused seeing the two of you pretty much being the plot to a convoluted romcom.

Especially when they realized you and Vox kind of forgot they were actually there.

Charlie thought your relationship was endearingly cute-

Vaggie just reacted like her theory had been entirely confirmed.

Alastor felt like it was kinda disgusting-

And Lucifer nearly decked him for trying to ruin your moment.

Angel, Husker and Nifty were busy placing bets on who between the either of you would confess to the other first.

Though by the time the song ended, everyone couldn't help but groan or facepalm.

"Soooo- how'd I do?"

"It's okay, I'd say there's still room for lots of improvement."

"Oh fuck you Vox-"

"Like you'd ever actually go through with that."

"HA- don't try me you slutty-waisted lanky TV-"

"I've been called worse by better, get creative!"

You were both fucking idiots.

And at this point-

It was like your romantic dance hadn't even happened at all.

#Youtube #vox x reader #hazbin hotel #vox #get off my screen series #hazbin hotel vox #vox x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader

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elmuvahva · 6 months

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EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE HERES THE FINISHED CASEY SONG AWHAHWHAHWHAH

ok so lemme explain my thought process behind this song bc i love to overshare

i wanted to make a song for casey of when he first arrived in the past, like that bitch was alone and scared shitless and understandably so. he was alone in a world he knew nothing about and had just lost the last of his family.

i wanted to capture that loneliness he would've been feeling in that moment and the helplessness that came along with it. he felt like giving up until he remembered his family.

and that's where the second half of the song comes in mwahahahah. his family is still by his side in spirit and will always be there no matter where he goes. i wanted that hopelessness from casey to just be swept away by the turtles and hopefully the song conveys that :D

although this song isnt technically a CAS song, i still took so much inspiration from @somerandomdudelmao when writing this song (and when also using her character designs for the song art LMAO). i highly recommend going and reading her comic bc what the fuck are you doing if you havent already like bRO-

anywho- i shall post once again when the youtube video is up and when the song is out on spotify and other streaming platforms :>

for now, see ya suckers lmao good luck o7

LYRICS :D

I feel so alone Don’t know What to do Now that you’re gone I know that I can’t Go back To you There's so much that I have to do

You know That you’re here by my side But it's not the same Yes, you’re here But its not The you that I once held so dear

How am I Meant to do this on my own? You were always there With me But now When it matters most you disappear

I’m scared What if I mess it all up? This is our last final chance Our final try Do we even have hope anymore?

What is it for? I did it all for you But now I'm left on my own

instrumental

oOoO vocalisations

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serenhoshi · 1 year

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𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a while! I was working for my finals, and now that I’m done I can post again!

Here is the beginning of the “Ateez as your boyfriend” series, I haven’t done all the members of seventeen yet, but I’m working on it as well, it’ll come very soon!

So, Kim Hongjoong!

based on his mbti, the man is a lover of love

he is a hopeless romantic, and has a crush 24/7

he loves having a crush, daydreaming a bit about the person that attracted him

it kind of frees him from his busy everyday life

it inspires him for some of his lyrics as well?? (like i know ateez songs are about rebellion and stuff but i’m sure that this man right here has many romantic and cheesy songs about his ex-lover(s) or/and crushes)

anyways, so as I said, he has a crush on basically anyone

he never truly expects anything, like no relationship whatsoever, he really just enjoys the feeling of liking someone

so when he has a crush one you, he doesn’t expect much from it

maybe he saw you at a museum or in a shop or whatever

and he double-checked you like “oh- oh, they look great” (in his head ofc)

and maybe he liked your vibe, your outfit, whatever

he ended up giving you quick looks during your whole visit (if it’s a museum), like a shy kid

he knows he won’t see you again anyway because of his work, and [insert city name] is a big city, so he makes sure he memorizes you well

it really sounds weird but like

he WILL write about you, so he needs to remember details to talk about in his lyrics

As soon as he got home, he started writing his song, it was very quick lmao

so when he was done, he was satisfied and could go back to his work

until he saw you again, at the agency

his eyes opened wide and his jaw almost fell to the floor

he was clearly confused so he played it cool and ignored you as if he never knew you in the first place

like “damn, that not how it always goes”

but turns out you had to work together, because you were in charge of the production of some music videos, so you had to meet with the members to talk about the aesthetic and the mood of the songs, and what to tell in the video

the members quickly saw that hongjoong was acting weirdly around you

like during a meeting, anytime you looked at him he would look away from you, anytime he spoke up his ears would turn red because he knew you were watching him

so they mocked him lmao

and he threatened them back

but they’re ateez, they don’t really care, so they continued

until it got to you

you heard the members being like “hongjoong-hyung have you seen y/n’s haircut today? oh i’m sure you have right?”

“remember when he drew them?? in a cartoon-ish way, it looked cute tho”

“yeah, i want you to draw me too!- why not? is it because they’re your crush and i’m not??”

you were very confused and curious at the same time

so one time your curiosity took over, and you called hongjoong after a meeting with the members (ofc they mocked him when they heard you call him lmao)

you blutly asked if there was someting going on, because you heard stuff from the members, and you needed to know if you had done something wrong, or is they were mocking you for something. not even once considering he could actually like you

he would giggle shyly, hiding his face with his hand

and then he was fully honest with you

he said in a suprisingly confident way, that he hoped something would develop between the two of you, because he really appreciates you

and he asked you on a date btw

i know right

he couldn’t believe it either

the date went very well, you went to the cinema and then ate at the convenience store bcs you were hungry

it was very fun! and both of you started to get attached to each other

you got close very fast, you saw each other a lot at dates, your appartment, or his recording studio

you would just mess around a lot, laugh, eat, sleep, whatever

at some point he just HAD to tell you how much he loved you

you were both in his studio, you had drank a bit, hongjoong more than you, to give himself a bit of courage

he played the song he made after meeting you for the first time

the silence was pressuring to him, while you listened attentively to the song

then you looked at him, confused at what it meant (not really understanding that it was about you)

so he told you

his confession was a bit clumsy, he wanted to do well but he was too stressed, so stressed that he stuttered a lot

but it was also very sincere, his eyes did not leave you, the light reflecting in them made them look so bright and passionate that your heart started speeding up

when he finally said “i love you”, you smiled, and giggled like a child

his eyes were still on you, and you felt your ears burn and redden

you told him that you loved him too, in a quieter voice, shy to let the three words out

he smiled widely, he heard what you said, but he just had to tease you a bit

so he came closer, his face inches away from yours

“what did you say?”

so you said it again, with a tiny pout on your lips

and he kissed you right after

Now, let’s see how the pirate king is as a boyfriend :D

i’m sure that even though he keeps showing his hate for physical touch on TV, he actually loves it

but only with you :)

when he gets home from work he comes to you and kisses you on the forehead, a hand holding your waist or caressing your back

will get grumpy if you don’t accept taking a bath with him >:(

while watching tv he either holds your hand or puts it on your thigh

same when he drives

loves spending special evenings or afternoons with you

like you both going shopping, taking pictures and enjoying the city

or discovering the new pet cafe <3

maybe an evening customizing some of your clothes, sat on the floor of the living room, with some 2000s songs playing in the back

or you dyeing his hair !

you also cook together at least 2 to 3 times a week

because you’re both bad at cooking but you want to get better

at first it was chaotic, now it’s better

having hongjoong as a boyfriend also means being a new parent for ateez

some of the members (like wooyoung and mingi) will call you mom as a joke

when they come to the appartment (randomly most of the time), you’ll have to handle them with your boyfriend, as much as you can

but hongjoong’s patience is so low you end up handling them yourself while he tries to beat up yunho in the back

hongjoong really has no patience, in your relationship its better

but he still gets angry easily

luckily, he doesn’t give you the silent treatment, he directly confronts you about what he thinks and what made him upset

very jealous, protective, and a bit possessive as well

at first it annoyed you a lot, so you told him and now he controls himself better

but he still always has a hand around your waist during social events, just so people know that you’re taken

i think that hongjoong “weak” side would be how shy he is when it comes to compliment you

he shows support through actions, he encourages anything you do in life and makes sure you know how proud he is of you

but its always hard for him to put it into words

when you’re not here he can describe you with the most loving words, and praise you as if you were a goddess (which you are for him)

but once you’re there he just giggles and smiles like a child

if you get prepared for an important event for example, and you arrive with a gorgeous outfit, beautifully done hair and all that

he’ll stop moving (maybe even breathing) for a while, his cheeks as red as cherries

and then he’ll hug you lovingly, maybe kiss you if you don’t have lipstick on

it is very rare for him to put it into words

maybe if you get married he’ll finally praise you while you’re here, in front of him? ;)

anyways we’re done here :)

smutty part below!

I don’t think hongjoong ever had sex before you

or if he did it was with some one night stands he doesn’t remember

but still he was quite shy during your first time

he wouldn’t dare look at you at first, both because he thinks his face would go fully red, and because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable

he still touches you a lot, a bit awkwardly at first because it wasn’t the same with no clothes on anymore :’)

might stare a bit even though he tries to control himself so you don’t feel too oppressed lmao

moans a lot, he can’t stay quiet, even when you’re just making out

no matter what position you’re in, he likes having a hand in your hair, caressing it as if praising you for whatever you were both doing

he talks quite a lot too

saying how he feels, asking you questions to make sure you’re okay, it’s like he says each and every thoughts that goes in his mind

“woah,, again please”

“do you like it that way? should i go on?”

“moan again for me honey”

“you can’t keep your hands to yourself, huh?”

ofc he has to be a tease when he feels the most confident

i feel like he’s a switch, but still more on the dominant side

like he goes sub mode when you ask him to, but the rest of the time hes dominant

prefers doing it in bed, in your shared bedroom

maybe sometimes in the living room or in the bathroom, but never out of the appartment, even for a quickie

(so making him horny outside of home is very fun to watch, because he cannot do anything on the spot, and just glares at you while hiding his bulge as much as he can)

even tho he is a dom, i think he likes it when you ride him

he loves watching you on top of him

but still orders you around with his hands on your hips, his fingers tracing on your stretch marks

overall he has a great stamina, he could go for 2 rounds easily, maybe 3 sometimes :)

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infamous-if · 1 year

Note

I’m curious what the RO’s homes/bedrooms look like because I think it can tell a whole lot about someone 🤔

I'M GLAD YOU ASKED. I was actually ruminating over what Sev's room/apartment, in particular, would look like the other day.

Seven's room is very dark to me. Black walls, a lot of band posters plastered everywhere. It's a mess but an organized mess. Very much what a music enthusiast's room would look like in a 2000s teen movie lol. They've never grown out of the 'fanboy/fangirl' phase so they'd just have posters all over, they have a dresser of vintage records on one side and a mirror full of photo booth pictures and photos of their life tacked to it. Their bed is never made, mostly because Seven is always in bed when they're home. Seven has clothes strewn just about everywhere but they claim to know where everything is. A lot of ripped-out pages of scrapped out song lyrics on the floor. My imagination of Seven's songwriting process is a lot of pacing, a lot of humming. They get their best ideas while doing other stuff like cleaning and cooking. Outside of their room, their apartment is also messy with a lot of novels strewn about. Seven is very sentimental so every gift they've ever gotten is on display. Their bathroom is clean but messy; just a lot of hair products and makeup everywhere. Seven's "I just rolled out of bed" look is a stylistic choice lmao

I can imagine Sev being a very annoying neighbor to have since they always have music on and they're always singing. Seven has never actually cleaned their place quickly because of all the times they stop to have a mini concert in their living room. Seven is fun when they're alone lol

Orion's is expectantly clean and very minimalist. His room is barren, a plain black bed with a metal headboard. He always has incense burning and has an air purifier and a lot of tech. Everything is spotless and there's not anything out of place. Orion's place is a lot of dark furniture, a lot of leather, and a lot of gray and white in terms of looks. He has a large glass balcony that he likes to do work on in the mornings. I imagine him to have a large closet with all just suits on one side and just...straight up black clothes on the other. Orion isn't one to wear anything colorful. His neighbors love him and want to connect with him but Orion is not interested lol More than a few times he'd come home and just plops himself on his couch and falls asleep due to how tired he was.

Sebastian's home is large but sparsely decorated. He has a big TV to play his video games on and it's what you'd think is a stereotypical young guy's place: brown couch, some video game memorabilia, and some sports stuff. He has a huge gamer computer setup he built himself. He uses it for games and for coding and general data stuff. Sebastian likes displaying all of his goodies and stuff and he doesn't touch Maya's room, which is much like Seven's in that it's super cluttered with music stuff and posters. Sebastian's house is what a default sims house looks like: nothing stylish, just generic furniture.

Victoria and G's is luxurious that leans more to anything that they like they just toss it in there. Huuuuge with plushy colorful couches and overpriced designer furniture. OH! If anyone has seen Cara Delevigne's AD...that's what their house would look like. Just chaotic everywhere with so many knickknacks and things that it's like an assault on your every single sense. Funky wallpapers, leopard rugs. A lot of that, surprisingly, is G's doing. G was very set on designing their house. They're barely home and live mostly in hotels anyway so it doesn't really matter.

August's is pretty generic; gray walls, purple bed. They live with their family (August was supposed to live with a roommate but I changed it to better fit their route) and Clare tends to be the messy one. I would say August's room is half and half, it's pretty empty but what they do have takes up a lot of space like their drum set and their huge speakers. The house is big (August's parents are pretty well-off as politicians) and very Grecian in appearance. August doesn't have much knickknacks and things like Seven. They're pretty detached to sentimental things like that. It's a very standard room, the centerpiece definitely being their drums. They have a huge computer set up, though, like a gamer set up like Seb's but they don't use it for games lmao

#reference #?#infamous cast #inbox #most questions have been very curious about the cast as people now rather than in relation to MC #fun!

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houseofhyde · 1 year

Text

dressed in white (putting off crying).

pairing. daemon targaryen x fem!reader

synopsis. he knows of those who whisper that seeing the bride in her dress before the couple stands beneath the eyes of the seven births nothing but bad luck for a marriage, but daemon targaryen cares little for superstitions.

warnings. canon appropriate sexism/misogyny, implied valyrian!reader, implied incest (if you interpret this as the reader being targaryen), daemon is a simp for his lover!, likely ooc!daemon (i'm new to writing for him, i’ll get better, i'm sorry), poorly translated high valyrian, angst, fluff, descriptions of sex.

word count. 5.6k

hyde's input. lmao the title is based off a lyric from the (superior) the 1975 song meanswear. this whole scenario has been playing on my brain since i first watched hotd and i need to get it out before it drives me crazy by living in my tiny pea-brain for too long. i literally only made this blog to post this (since it wouldn't suit the writings on my main blog), so idk if i'll actually post anything else on here but feedback would be appreciated! anyway, daemon is a menace to society, i love him. sidenote,, i've always been terrified to post any fics in the got/hotd fandoms because istg every writer in this fandom has a god-like level of prose and it intimidates me, so please be nice if you think this sucks :) i’ve only read through this once, there may be spelling errors but it’s late and i just want to post this already!!!

tight braids rip hair from skull, gold incased jewels trap a delicate neck in a chokehold, stiff fabrics snuff out any heat of the westerosi sun from gracing dampened skin.

you aim to breathe in an air of relief for your aching lungs, yet the maiden behind you denies you of such a virtue as she pulls tighter on the set of strings holding up your bodice. you grow more lightheaded, oxygen starved body swaying momentarily, as a few more of your ladies in waiting assist with dressing you in the white coffin, lace cuffing your wrists like shackles and the weight of the gown feeling akin to that of a great beast, be it the weight of a stag, or a lion, or a wolf.

or a dragon.

“please,” hardly recognising your own voice, you flinch at the broken rasp that makes its way past your lips. your throat burns, your stomach churns, your eyes carry bags beneath them. far from a blushing bride, you are. the days of celebration leading up to the ceremony have taken an effect on both your mind and body, restless nights leading to uneaten feasts and unquenched thirsts. alas, you push such thoughts to that corner in your mind you reserve for nothing but tales of docile dragons and knights in dirtied armor as you straighten your stand, shoulders rising and head holding itself high. “may i have a moment of solitude within my chambers?”

your ladies shoot their attention over to the eldest among them, a septa who's hair has grown a deeper shade of grey with the passing of time and face has grown wrinkled by a history of smiles and laughter, and who bares the name of dorothea.

“of course, lady y/n. every woman must steal her last moment of solitude before she marries herself off to her lord husband. solitude will be sparse once you are wed.”

like an army of men, though far more graceful and colourful, the ladies make way towards the entrance of your chambers, spilling out in a single file line and shutting the door behind them.

and finally you breathe.

once, twice, thrice, and then you are a mess of desperate gasps and trembling limbs. you make your way over to the mirror which centres the room, steps more of an uncoordinated tumble than a graceful walk of a future lady of court.

met with your own reflection, something feels off. like a lack of connection, your astute mind can not fathom how this frail, tired, solemn looking girl bares any resemblance to the confident, bright eyed and quick witted woman you'd grown to be.

you trace your hands over the flaring of the dress' skirt, as if working out the creases in the fabric will loosen the ones that line your forehead. so caught up in your own unfitting image, you barely register the reopening of your chambers door.

“please, dorothea,” you sigh the woman's name out like she's bound to you by something more motherly than mere duty, the years spent in her company making for far better memories than the fleeting time you've passed with your true mother. “just a few more minutes. i'm... not ready. not yet.”

“i should hope not, you've yet to finish fastening the buttons on that ridiculous gown they've forced you into.”

the first thing you notice as your eyes meet the mirror once more is that your frown has deepened.

“you can't-” the second thing is him, dressed in the onyx and blood colours of his house, his newly shortened hair styled in a way that gives him a near boyish charm. the only visible slither of dark sister- nothing but a handle pressing into his left side- reminds you this is no boy, but a man, brutal and abrasive and protective, fresh from a victorious battle in which he walked away with a crown and the offering of another sword for his brother's throne. you're quick to correct your choice of words. “you shouldn't be here, prince daemon.”

if you were anyone else, you'd think the prince cares little- if anything- for the words you cast his way, arms clasped behind his back as he strides across the room with an air of arrogance, confidence, the stature of a man who not only belonged within your chambers but within your heart.

but, alas, you are you, and that means a great deal when it comes to the study of one targaryen prince. only you would notice the twitch in his brow, the snarl across his lips that is quickly denied in exchange for a smirk, the slight shrink of his shoulders as the weight of the truth sets itself upon them.

he's displeased.

whether the reason be your unusual use of his title- an act he knows you've committed with the foolish hope of putting distance between you both, if not physically then at least in power- or your attempt to banish him from your quarters evades you, but it matters little, really, for daemon is still approaching you.

he's upon you quicker than you expected, quicker than you wanted.

“let me.” two words, simple and used from the most common of folk to the most regal of lords, uttered in an infinite number of scenarios. yet, they may be your undoing as the silver haired man welcomes himself to the feel of your skin, a single finger trailing it's way down what remains exposed of your back. the touch mimics a shiver, something that tickles down your spine in a disturbingly enjoyable manner.

you nod your approval, too afraid to open your mouth and see what sounds he elicits from you, your heart too long starved of affection and his gentle caress the first it's tasted in years.

the fear of speaking carries on even as he departs from your skin, both hands joining in finishing the task of clasping your dress together. maybe this is worse, you think, having his knuckles bump against you every so often as he fiddles with the pearly white buttons, teasing you with what could be, what could've been.

“i never imagined us marrying under the seven.” part of you believes he's mocking you, torturing you with words he knows will wrap around your heart like vines and pierce the delicate organ with its thorns. you wonder if this is the targaryen prince known for his callous words and disregard for the sentiment of another come out to show you his true colours once and for all, gone now the days where he'd shower you in expensive metals and feed you the sweetest of treats.

he catches your line of sight in the reflective glass and his smile widens, pulling his lips with a heavy sense of dishonesty that makes your insides twist. never did you think there'd come a day where daemon targaryen would fake a smile towards you.

“īlva qilōni carry se ānogar hen uēpa valyria should dīnagon isse se ways hen uēpa valyria.” us who carry the blood of old valyria should marry in the ways of old valyria. there was a moment in time- back when the sight of a man was enough to make you blush- that you believed there was nothing, and no one, that compared to the beauty of hearing daemon speak his ancestral language, the old flame of valyria setting his soul ablaze. as you stand now, eyes stuck on watching how he's focused on one particularly stiff button, you find only heartache in hearing him speak high valyrian. not even the way he breaks his composed facade- though only for a mere handfull of seconds- to frown and scowl down at the stubborn button is enough to ease the tension in your chest. “ondos bound ondoso ānogar, daor dovodedha cloth.” hands bound by blood, not silly cloth.

by the time he finishes off fastening your gown, bile burns the back of your throat as his hands smooth down your back, painfully slow in their travels, giving you enough time to think of how this isn't how things were meant to be.

daemon was supposed to be the one eagerly tearing off your dress, not trapping you in its suffocating confines.

you decide to play into his fantasy, to let not only him but also yourself indulge in the sweet naïveté of wishful thinking.

“skoros ābrar gōntan ao imagine syt īlva?” what life did you imagine for us?

he takes a breath, pausing the conversation and inhaling as if to stable his wavering heart, focus his mind on choosing his next words wisely or run the risk of you shoving him away completely.

when he at last answers, you wish you'd never asked.

“i saw us trading life in the keep for dragonstone, making a home for ourselves where the targaryen history runs deepest. it's where we'd wed, where i'd get to listen to you swear vows to me that carry true meaning, unlike the shit i’ll have to endure hearing you spew later in the sept.” relief floods over you like a great storm as he switches back to the common tongue, a downpour which serves to dampen the fiery passion in his voice. his hands have found rest upon your mid-riff, large and warm and protective in the way they pull you back against his muscular chest. “we'd host feasts for whenever my brother insists on visiting us to keep up appearances of a false bond between his new family and his old one. you'd teach me about other languages, so i could express my adoration for you in every tongue known to man, and i'd show you what it is to never want for anything, make sure you own every possession you desire and feel every emotion you require.

“when we're not busy playing politics, in the moments you're not teaching our sons how to thread needles and to be good husbands, while i encourage our daughters to wield swords and to be strong, we'd spend that time in the throes of pleasure." the blunt ends of his nails dig deep into the layers of fabric, as if he's trying to tear the dress off to reveal the real you beneath, the you he's become all too enthralled by. the you that's bare, and pliant, and begging for his touch in a way that is not only sexual but primal, as though you'd perish if not for the brush of his lips against yours and warmth of his body casting over you like a shadow meant to seal you away from the harsh world. "fuck a marital bed, we'd make it into a marital home, a marital garden, a marital beach. i'd take you anywhere, work my fingers into you till they are broken, bruise my knees just to drink your sweet nectar, fuck you so full of my seed till it has nowhere else to go and no choice but to drip out of you, covering us in our brutal lovemaking.”

“daemon-”

“they'll tire of us, eventually, all our poor maids and guards. tire of catching me with you bent over any surface, tire of hearing you chant my name like i'm your only god. they'll be running back to kingslanding with their tails tucked between their legs, ready to spread the gossip of just how insatiable the rogue prince and his ravishing wife really are.”

“daemon, you really-”

“we can still have that life, my love.” he sounds so hopeful, glances upon you so eagerly in the reflective glass that you near crumble to the ground if not for the support of his arms around you. “hmm, wouldn't you prefer we do that, instead of this over the top ceremony that'll leave you with nothing but a headache and sore feet?”

the heartache behind his intentions sedates the anger that quells within your chest, way past the layers of bodice. it is not born from nowhere, this anger. not a fiery pit lit from an explosive catastrophe but, rather, a sole flame that has simmered and festered and burned for a near three years, mothered by solitude and fathered by abandonment.

“no, we can't.” intending to put your foot down, reign in control over yourself, hands reaching to tear his tiresome hold off of you, you're bereft to find yourself sighing a breath that leaves clear the exhaustion you've been harbouring- far beyond just physical, deep in the trenches of neglected emotions- , body melting into a puddle at his feet upon watching the familiar sight of your embracing limbs in the reflection. bitterness bites the back of your throat in this repeat of familiar history: you, daemon and bodies touching away from prying eyes and gossiping courtiers. “my father... he'd have your head, daemon. after everything he has done to secure this union happened... after all the rumours... it wouldn't be fair to him.”

daemon hums out an acknowledgement and you nearly convince yourself he's in agreement, that he understands the repercussions that would entail if you gave in to his game of make-believe; that he knows these pretty words that once were a gift for a younger version of yourself to hear, all tied up in a bow made of his velvet kisses upon your silk skin, have become a punishment meant to torment a child who'd dared to play with a toy that was never hers to touch in the first place.

all hope of redemption is lost with the tightening of his hold.

muscles flex beneath the red of his sleeves, an unspoken promise of the strength he harbours, the brute force he’d be more than willing to use should someone aim to take you from his hold. what follows is a resounding silence, where you’re too shaken to speak and his head rests it’s weight on your shoulder, the near-white crown of his head staring back at you in the mirror as it blends with the white of your gown. he burrows his face into the spot where your neck meets your shoulders, hiding whatever broken, troubled, pathetic- his own word for sad- expression paints his features.

“i thought you would wait for me.”

and just like that, the illusion is shattered, an accusatory tone to his voice which leaves behind nothing of the false sense of bliss or the hopeful future but jagged shards scattered along the ground, threatening to split your skin and make you bleed should you dare to clean it up.

“how could i, prince daemon?” the anger works its way through the cracks in your broken heart, taking up the space you’d once reserved for tears and forgiveness. “you left. no words, no warning, no goodbye. my loyalty is with my father and my house, and therefore marrying to secure a fruitful alliance for said house comes above all, even petty little princes.”

“i was banished! by my own brother! by your own-” he halts the words before he can speak them. though the dragon in him is awakening- the slightest of conflict rousing the ugly defensive side of him-, he stubbornly holds his position, eyes squeezing shut a little tighter to fight out the light of reality he’s trying to evade. “and now here i return to find the one person i came back for could not wait a measly three years for me!”

“if you think i’ve waited only three years for you, you’re an even greater fool than otto hightower.”

the prince tenses, the mention of his sworn nemesis (a feat which had earned him plenty a mockery on your end, forever bereft at the fact a supposed grown man could live with a near-playground level of hatred for another) causing the fire within him to grow more violent. he unwinds himself from the hold he’s got on you, arms dropping to his side and face rising from it’s hiding spot within your skin. in the mirror, he looms over you, staring down at you like he’s the red wyrm and you are but a helpless doe moments away from having your flesh burnt by his fire.

“forgive me, lady y/n,” the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention as darkness overcomes his voice, matching the expression on his face. “i wasn’t aware of how deep your loyalty ran for you to whore yourself out so easily for some lord’s name and gold.”

with the twist of an ankle, you come face to face with the dragon prince, chest heaving with each laboured breath which fails to calm your nerves and nose blowing out what you imagine to be the steam of your fiery anger. you stagger back, he leans forward. hands land on your elbows and steady you, draw you nearer till the mounds of your breasts brush against his cloth-covered chest.

daemon is stunned to silence, a rare feat, as he gazes down at you and sees not the woman who’s wrapped up in white lace but the girl who’d been covered in tears and carried fear in her eyes as she took in the sight of the man she’d crashed into- quite literally, as he’d enjoyed reminding you whenever you had gotten a little too generous with the wine and led yourself down the path of unadulterated reminiscing in his chambers- in the halls of the keep. he remembers how it felt to truly look upon your face for the first time, to be lulled into a sedated state just by hearing your soft voice stuttering out apologies, to part ways from you with hands still burning from the heat of your flesh, refusing to cool down even as he sat among the small council, too busy clenching his fists and questioning what exactly was so bewitching about the maiden he’d caught in distress.

a sharp sting to his cheek is enough to shatter the memory, bringing him out of the looking glass of the past and into the present where your eyes are filled with more disgust than tears and the burn of your flesh is against his face instead of his hands.

you’d slapped him.

by gods, you’d actually struck him.

if the circumstances called for it, the prince wonders if his cock would be stiffening by now.

“you, of all people, have no right to call me a whore, lord fleabottom.”

“and yet i seem to recall you begging me to call you that during our past encounters.”

you grab at his collar, sharp nails digging into the dark material as if it were his windpipes, crushing them under your brutish strength. tugging him down with what you believe to be force- and what is truly just him giving into your attempt-, the pair of you find yourselves eye to eye, nose to nose, frown to frown.

oh, yes, his cock would certainly be hard, were his heart not so weak.

“you are a despicable excuse of a man.” you mean to spit the words in his face, praying to all the old gods and the new for this feeling to truly be hatred, disgust, disdain. three years have passed and, with it, so has your love, leaving a gapping hole meant only to be filled with hate. were it not for the shaking of your free hand, or the pounding of your heart in your ears, you’d believe your prayers had been answered. alas, the gods are cruel and your words fall only as a whisper on his ears. “i pity the women who have been scorned with loving you.”

“come now, my lady, you were always so against those who pitied themselves.”

“do you hear how pathetic you sound?” taken aback by his rebuttal, your response comes with a moments delay, one you hope he does not notice. the grin he casts down at you proves otherwise, and serves as yet another plank of dry wood tossed on to the blazing embers of your ire. “i am to be married come high noon, and you are already a married man! put aside your wants and realise your duty, perhaps then your king would not see it necessary to rid himself of you.”

“and what a marriage it’ll be, my lady! with your dearest lord cunt lannister parading you around as though you are some prized deer he’s caught for a feast, and you drowning yourself in riches and wines to forget the horrid memory of his red face above yours.” he matches your own grip on him, his far larger and far stronger hand shooting out to take a hold of you by the neck of your dress. he’s a brute, tugging on the expensive cottons like they are no more than the clothes of a common whore. “rumour has it your dear husband-to-be is one of those one-pump-chumps, so at the very least he’ll get it over with quickly, allowing you to roll over and bring yourself some satisfaction as his pathetic seed paints your thighs.”

“at least my marriage will be consummated!” daemon scoffs as quickly as the words have shot out your mouth, no harm coming from them, not with how many nights he’d spent in your sheets claiming he’d sooner fuck his own dragon than touch his so-called bronze bitch. the real kicker, the true spear through his pride, the thing you know only by rumour and not by fact, is what you say next. “meanwhile you’ll continue to chase pleasure in whores who look like me from the back, but just never quite sound, smell, taste, feel the same as i do.”

“keep talking and i’ll take it as an invitation to remind myself of just exactly how you feel.”

“if the recent rumours about you are true, my prince, i doubt you’ll be capable of getting your cock to rise for the occasion.”

silence takes hold of the little space between you. contemplation evident on his face, he straightens back up to his full height, eyes no longer at level with your own as they cast down a look which lacks all the sharp edges from before. no longer are his eyes daggers that threaten to slice through you but, instead, blankets of warmth and safety which ache to wrap around your tired bones and shield you from the cold which accompanies the feeling of solitude.

the hand which once held you by the top of your dress has traveled up the expanse of your neck, fingers soft and lazy in the way they stroke over the skin. before you even process your own actions, the grip you have on his own clothes loosens, till your hand is merely resting against the solid mass of his chest.

for the first time since the rogue prince had returned to the capital, victorious and wearing a crown, you allow yourself to take in the sight of him, wholly and unserved. you admire the shortened length of his hair, noting how it frames his face in a way that fully brings out its sharp edges. you trace over the new lines in his skin, unintentionally reminiscing on words you'd both exchanged between tangled limbs and the moonlight ( “they are a sign that i'm aging, sweetling.” “they are a sign that you've lived.”). you catch sight of mangled skin along his right side, peeking out from beneath his clothing. your heart clenches at the thought of him in pain, and you distract yourself from thinking of what other marks decorate his war-torn body by returning attention to his lilac eyes.

three years have passed since you had last held each other and, against your own wishes, your heart still remembers to beat harder around him.

“he will not love you.” the words are an exhale from him, like he's resigning you to your own fate.

“i do not need love.” the words you speak become the first lie you've ever told him, making even with the way he'd faked his smile earlier.

“then if not love, freedom. that cunt will not give you that." you aim to tear away from his piercing eyes, yet the force of his hand tilting your chin upwards gets in your way. he may have been at war, you think, but he's inflicting a greater torture upon you than any fallen soldier right now, imploring you to look upon his weakened state in a way he's never allowed before. "he will give you gold, and dresses, and dresses made of gold to occupy yourself with, but never freedom.”

“freedom is a fool’s game.”

“gaomā daor ȳdragon hae aōla.” you do not speak like yourself. this time, he does not prevent you from looking back at your own reflection. you wish to whine about how you do not look like yourself either, dressed in such a ridiculously white gown but don't in fear that he'll take it as invitation to slice through it with his dear dark sister. “what happened to the girl who used to make plans to see the world on dragon's back, to taste every wine, to be tied to no land?”

“she died somewhere between the first time you kissed her and six moons into your war for the stepstones.”

like the mirror were something akin to the mystical, future-telling balls you'd heard of in the stories of witches and seers, the memory of your first kiss plays out before you. you remember it all like it was merely yesterday. the way you'd at last bested him after the five moons of midnight training you'd endured. the way he lay frozen on the ground, eyes widened in a mixture of shock, irritation and pride. the way he'd marched over to you and sent thrilling chills of fear down your spine as you worried he aimed to scold you for daring to nick the right side of his cheek with your blade, drawing out blood. the way he'd ripped your weapon from your hand, thrown it off to some unseen part of the dark training grounds and proceeded to attack you. only, where you had expected raised fists and seething words, he gave bruising kisses and sighs of satisfaction, the victory of at last going against everyone else's supposed better judgement and giving into the carnal desires he'd tried to cast aside in favour of protecting your virtue in the eyes of the cunts that sat with himself and your own father at the small council.

and then, you blink and suddenly it is half a decade later and you're standing in those same dark, cold, training grounds, only this time the prince is nowhere in sight and you're hacking at a man made of straw, picturing the king's brother's face with every swing of the blade.

“most nights i barely knew if you were alive, daemon! any news of you was sparse, and never meant to fall upon my ears. were it not for rhaenyra serving as cupbearer for the council, overhearing the gossips that ensued in their meetings, i'd never have found out you'd gone to war in the first place. waiting for you to send a raven, or send at the very least a sign that you ached for me as much as i did you, it broke me. and, as i put the fractured pieces of myself back together, i found i was no longer the wide eyed fool you'd left me. i was no longer going to cry over a man who didn't respect me enough to let me know of his leaving.”

“how could i write you, my lady? was it not you who asked of me that our affairs be kept a private matter? i'd have thought our scandal was lesson enough for you to learn there are rats in every crevice of kingslanding. a single letter from me would have been your undoing.” the anger returns to his voice, though not so all-consuming this time around. behind your own reflection, you see him shifting around, body growing agitated with the need to do something, anything to expel the dark energy coursing through his veins. “we both know i have not once had an issue with making my affections for you known, it is you who was so scared to be branded as my mistress! so do not dare question my respect for you. everything you've wanted, i've given. anything you've asked of me, i've done. and it was still not enough to mark my claim on your heart.”

“why do you still not see my heart is not some land to be won?” if at any moment you pondered the possibility of the maids outside your chambers being aware of the reason behind daemon's current presence, the raising of your voice and the words you spit out at him must be enough to confirm any of their suspicions. you wonder which of them will be the one to spread the word, until it reaches your father's ears or- worse- your betrothed. “nyke daor mirri sombāzmion hen pryjata syt ao naejot hang bona jaes-forsaken bartōro hāre zaldrīzes banner iemnȳ.” i am not some castle of ruins for you to hang that god-forsaken three-headed dragon banner within.

if words were daggers, yours would have pierced through his darkened heart and twisted the blade. for there is nothing more prideful to a targaryen than their own bloodline- and many a nights you'd spent, sat at candlelight with the infamous conquest of aegon targaryen himself depicted to you in a written word, pondering if this grandiose sense of self is what lead to their customs of taking their own kin to wed-, the hot tempered prince being the greatest example of this, rumoured to have once made a eunuch of a man who dared to so little as roll his eyes as a young viserys targaryen passed by him in a brothel.

you feel him more than you see him move behind you, weight shifting from one leg to another and carrying the rustle of metals and leather with it. he's glaring at you through the reflective glass, mouth pressed shut in a straight line and hands clasped behind his back, as if holding them there is some way of holding off whatever thoughts he had of touching you with hands that had brought so many people to their end- his own wife being their latest victim.

several minutes of silence pass by before you realise he's weighing out his options, trying to choose what to say next. the rogue prince, known for his unmatched wit and possessing the ability to argue his way out of acts of war against his very own brother, is lost for words for a second time.

when the words come to him at last, you wish they'd disappear again.

“i am a proud man. i have fought, and lived, and fucked with fire and blood, so this will be the first and only time i will ask this of you.” you watch with baited breath and sweating palms as daemon's figure lowers itself behind you and, with no second thought to be found, you swirl around in your gown just in time to watch his right knee meet the floor, his other one positioned perfectly at a ninety-degree angle and holding his weight as he leans his arm against the muscular thigh. his head is tilted up, desperation dancing gracefully with the heartache in his eyes as his right hand finds comfort in tangling itself with your own, him relishing in your touch and you fighting so hard to forget each and every other time he'd held your hand so gently.

in an imitation of his return to king visery's graces, he's bowing for you as though it will win him back your favour and the warmth of your bed.

“do not make yourself a lannister, do not wed him. lady rhea royce is dead, there is nothing obstructing our path. we can make it to the dragonpit before anyone even notices you're gone, we'll be wed by sundown, i beg of you. kostilus, marizzo hen ñuha prūmia, mazverdagon nyke aōha valzȳrys.” please, owner of my heart, make me your husband.

it is a plea for so much more than your hand.

it is a plea for your life, a plea for your future, a plea for a world where you reside upon dragon's back and he resides anywhere that is by your side.

it is everything you've ever wanted to hear from him, coming into fruition in the worst way imaginable: dressed in a wedding gown meant for another man.

“skoro syt sir? skoro syt līs ao epagon bisa hen issa sir?” why now? why must you ask this of me now? you pull in a breath and push out a sob, eyes welling with unshed tears as you force yourself to rip away from his lilac irises to find safety in staring up at the cold, unfeeling ceiling. “skoro syt daor skori nyke istan nykeēdrosa dāez naejot vestragon kessa?” why not when i was still free to say yes?

before he can fumble out a response, the door to your chambers reopens.

unlike before, it truly is dorothea this time.

“my lady,” she looks past the prince on his knees as though she can not even see him, too committed to her loyalty for you to rub a greater amount of salt in the gaping wound upon your heart which is daemon targaryen. there is no doubt when believing she'd never utter a word of the scene she has walked in on. “we must make haste. the ceremony will commence shortly, and there can be no wedding without a bride.”

the grip on your hand grows tighter, a silent plea from daemon to get you to look at him again, to see him for all that he may be- a man made of untamed disrespect, a tally of war crimes, blood of the so called dragon seed and, above all else, love for you- and take him as your own.

it makes it an even greater battle when you force your aching body to pull away from him, hands patting down the creases in your dress one last time before making your way over to the door.

this time around, it is you who leaves daemon a mess on your chambers' floor, kneeling there till his knees ache and the wedding bells have long ago rang out.

#daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen oneshot #daemon targaryen fic #daemon targaryen angst #daemon targaryen fluff #house of the dragon smut #lmao the description of this fic is so misleading.. it's basically click bait i'm so sorry 🥴

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turrondeluxe · 1 year

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Do u have headcanons about any of your shellslinger ships? I know about the lasting romance ones, but do u have any for the other ships

I have some random ones:

Lovers Rock (Hobie Brown Spider Punk and 2003! Mikey):

They sometimes randomly start singing together! Hobie likes accompanying it with his guitar! You can often see them making up random lyrics with Mikey Dancing around. Raph is so tired of this. Frank (Captain Anarchy and Hobie's friend) finds it very cute.

Hobie gifted Mikey his wrist spikes so he could have something with him at all times. Mikey gave Hobie his orange bandana, Hobie has it always with him wrapped around his torso.

They patrol together! (Turtle Titan and Spiderman can be often seen together protecting the city)

Ultimate Sillies (Peter Parker Ultimate Spiderman and 2012! Mikey):

Peter once randomly received help from Mikey while working on some chemicals and from them on he actually started going to Mikey for help instead of Donatello. That's how they started to bond and get closer as friends!

They both often use Donatello's lab to just fool around with all the things that you can find in there and make a mess. Donnie isn't amused by this.

They both have ADHD I just know this.

Mikey is good friends with Peter's group of superheroes! He can be seen often hanging out with Iron Fist, he seems chill.

Sometimes Peter sneaks Mikey to his highschool just so Mikey can know what it's like.

They have the biggest crushes on each other but won't confess to each other. Mikey's brothers and Peter's friends are absolutely tired of them lmao.

Peter and Mikey have really deep talks about their deceased parent figures sometimes (uncle Ben, Splinter).

Scarletshell (Ben Reilly Scarlet Spider and 2007! Mikey)

They met while Mikey was going back to the lair after a party as Cowabunga Carl. Ben ripped his head off. Mikey was Offended.

They seems to keep bumping into each other? Who the hell is that guy?

Donnie is aware of this weird spider guy and tells Mikey Not to look for trouble. Mikey is soo bored and decides to get to try and get to know more about the weird spider guy because what could go wrong? He seems chill enough?

Mikey actually follows Ben around for a few days just trying to make conversation. Ben never answers but seems to break after a while lol

They just keep hanging around after that. Mikey doesn't seem to perceive Ben as a threatening? That has Ben whipped from the start (but he won't realize it until Later).

Mikey: I'm surprised you were never surprised about...[pointing to himself] me? Y'know? Turtle? Mutant? | Ben: I'm a clone. You're not the weirdest thing I've encountered in my life. | Mikey: .....Cowabummer. That's so cool though...

Ben after actually befriending Mikey: If something happens to Michelangelo I will kill everyone in this city and then myself.

When in a romantic relationship, Mikey steals Ben's Blue hoodie and keeps it for himself. Boyfriend Hoodie Stealer™

In all of these pairings all the Mikeys are definitely the ones who confessed first but the Spideys are the ones who Fell Harder.

#shellslinger #thats all in my brain for now #can you believe i wanted to make all of these ideas into comics? im delusional #ask

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kairiscorner · 10 months

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Hehehe.. the miles x Filipino reader was cute!

Can I have a... Teaching Hobie Tagalog oneshot?

I feel like with his accent it's gonna mess up the pronunciation a bit lmao

(expect more requests from me I'm lurking in your blog always.)

well hello there @pearl-necklac :DD THAT'S A FUN IDEA WAIT i love the thought that hobie would curse in tagalog with his cockney accent (or in a bisaya dialect, maybe say "pisteng yawa" AND STILL SOUND SO BRITISH)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

teaching hobie tagalog

"hey, mahal?" hobie called out to you, his alluring voice enticing you to look his way as he came over to you, wrapped you in his arms and buried his face into your neck. you chuckled. "yes, mahal? what is it?" you asked as you ran a hand through his wicks. he chuckled and held you closer, "i'd fancy you teaching me some of your native language, aking sinta." he said as he pressed his chin on your shoulder and hugging you from behind in a loving embrace.

you raised your eyebrows in surprise as his request had taken you aback. "you... want to learn tagalog?" you asked him, and he nodded with a grin. "i figured it was about time i got to learn more about you. i can't just keep myself in the dark about the language you're so familiar with, that'd be suffocating for you, and you know i hate seeing you struggle." he confessed with a small smirk as he hugged you tighter.

"and besides..." he said as he squeezed your cheeks with one hand and slowly, gently turned your head to face him as he was still on your shoulder, "...i'd love to fluster you in many more ways than i'm already way too familiar with in english." he murmured as he nearly brought his nose and lips to touch yours, causing you to gasp slightly at the closeness between you two. "oh, sige." you'd whisper out as hobie chuckles to himself how cute you are when you get all embarrassed.

you soon taught hobie the basics, basic greetings, numbers, questions, answers and all--it went surprisingly well, in your opinion. hobie was an extremely fast learner, especially since he put a lot of focus and effort into learning tagalog for you with you. you couldn't help but chuckle, however, at how his accent clashed with the words.

you found it very endearing, though, how his accent remained a prominent thing despite speaking a foreign language; it was one of hobie's little quirks that you found wonderful, that you fell in love with, too. because how could you possibly not fall for him when he not only looked beautiful--with his piercings, his hair done like that, his height, his complexion, his eyes, fashion sense, personality and all--but sounded beautiful?

"now," hobie began as he looked at you with a smirk. "let me try saying something i've tried learning on my own secretly." he said as he put his hands on yours as he leane din close, his nose brushing against your cheek as his lips touched your earlobe. "mahal kita, sobra. sobra pa sa sobra, at mamahalin kita habangbuhay, maging sino ka man." he said with a bashful expression, his smile widening as he let the embarrassment of his admission of his unconditional and unwavering love for you sink in, with you feeling more and more giddy and excited at his words.

and before you could get another word out, he pecked your lips and stuck his tongue out at you. "i also practiced that rey valera song your parents like so much. i found out what the lyrics meant... and i know, i know that's exactly what i feel for you, aking minamahal." he said as you got all flustered and covered your face as you smiled wider. "tumahimik ka... pero mahal rin kita, okay..."

------------------

bonus: "love, what's this word?" "nakaka... naka--nakaka--hah?" "nakakapagpabagabag, is it?" "ah, uh, oo, kaso... the way you said it... it's the right pronunciation, but your accent, mahal..." you both laughed together at how silly you two were being :3

#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x filipino reader #atsv #atsv imagines #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n

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eryanlainfa · 1 month

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OK hear me out Hugo and Aiden LOOOOVE musicals but Varian doesn't really get them. Also do you think Aiden can sing bc I feel like Hugo would not be that great of a singer and it would be funny in a vat7k show bc Hugo would be like "I can't sing" and three minutes ago he sang his I want song with the voice of an angel

(ignoring temporarily that singing is in human nature and no one is 'bad at it' because it's singing if you're doing it your doing it right) don't mind me just rambling in your inbox lmao anyway AIRIGO

I LOVE HAVING YOU RAMBLING IN MY ASKBOX even more when its about airigo :3c you will always be welcomed

"I can't sing" *proceeds to sing flawlessly* xD love that for Hugo. I also think Hugo would not be that great of a singer but he'd have a good sense of rythm so it's not half bad. Also I think his singing voice would sound different from his talking voice- Idk why-

I don't think Aiden is a huge singer, but they hum a lot during work. (Witches have plenty of lullabies and short songs they recite as good luck charms, since their words carry magic.) So Aiden's singing voice wouldn't be strong and it would probably break if they tried to sing dificult notes loudly. It's fine, she always prefered dancing over singing-

I have so many thoughts and questions popping up now. Since Varian isn't a huge musical fan do you think he prefers classical music? Maybe anything without lyrics so listening to it won't mess his focus on whatever he is working on.? Is Hugo a big musical fan or just anything theater? I like to think Hugo really likes theater and songs because he learnt how to read rather late so it was his only way to have stories accessible to him for a while.

ALSO. Hear me out. A musical version of the Tales of Flynnigan Ryder. (In universe). That would be hilarious, maybe that's why Varian isn't fan of musicals, because, in his opinion, the adaptation isn't fateful enough to the books and he holds a grudge against musicals since-

On a sidenote. Varian and Hugo fighting over which is best, the musical or the book. And its not at all an objective debate lol

#the irony of Varian not being a huge musical fan when he's the only one who can sing 😔 lmao #I'll admit I still have no idea what Aiden's voice would sound like actually- I never voice claimed any of my OCs yet xP #eryanswers #eryanwrites #writingraccoon #Vat7k aiden #SORRY MY BRAIN JUST KEPT ON GOING 😭 but the subject is so fun

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separatist-apologist · 23 days

Text

Of course you can assign meaning to any of Taylor's songs however you like. However, I keep seeing people put The Alchemy in the Tayvis timeline because of the sports references and I'd just like to offer a different analysis of the lyrics.

The Alchemy is about calling up that one person you know is always waiting on you. The one who got away, the ex you never quite got over. The Alchemy is Taylors Version of Break Up With Your Girlfriend, I'm Bored.

For your consideration (in this essay, I will-):

This happens once every few lifetimes-

Like the phrase, "that was a lifetime ago,"- if you subscribe to the theory that Taylor and MH were together back in 2014, you could consider that a lifetime ago.

I circled you on a map/ I haven't come around in so long/ but I'm coming back so strong

She's calling him up, he's back on her mind and she's ready to give this a shot again. She's saying, I'm single (finally) and you're the first person I thought of, the first phone call/text I'm making now that it's over. I'm in it, now.

So when I touch down call the amateurs and cut them from the team. Ditch the clowns/get the crown/ baby I'm the one to beat

I get why people think this is about Travis but consider touch down in terms of an airplane landing on a runway. She's coming to him and telling him, break up with your girlfriend if you have one or cut your roster. Ditch the clowns LMAO because baby its ME. The one you've wanted for YEARS.

Cause the sign on your heart says it's still reserved for me

This implies they've been together before. It's STILL reserved for me- we didn't work out before but you've been holding the same candle I have. You can be done with all those others (they're never gonna work out anyway) because we both know you and I belong together.

Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?

I love this line because alchemy is a pseudoscience. In medieval times, alchemy is basically proto-chemistry. It's looking at taking metals and turning them into elixirs, most famously turning lead into gold. Taylor isn't saying, who are we to fight fate? She's saying who are we to fight the ALCHEMY- it's not real, but she wants it to be. And I love this song because its a doomed love song. Lets turn these feelings we have into true love- but its alchemy. She can't, even if she wants to.

I'm taking this interpretation from Taylor's insistence that while Travis knows ball, she knows Aristotle. She'd be familiar with Neoplatonism and its relation to alchemy. Only she knows for sure, of course- I'm not stating any of this as fact.

Anyway back to the lyrics:

Hey you, what if I told you we're cool? That child's play back in school/Is forgiven under my rule

What happened in the past doesn't matter anymore. The things we messed up back then don't matter to me now. It's a fresh start for us

I haven't come around in so long/But I'm making a comeback to where I belong...

I haven't seen you in a long time- for whatever reason (her long term relationship imo), but I'm coming back to you now. I belong WITH you and I've always known it.

These blokes warm the benches/We been on a winning streak

All these other guys were just place holders for you, but they can't touch you. They'll never be US, they were never as important to me as you were.

He jokes that its heroin but this time with an "E"

I think this is the biggest indicator this song is not about Travis. I'm not a 1975 scholar, I don't know their music well, but I did listen to Halsey's Colors, she mentions similar themes with the drugs. A quick google search confirms that MH did have an addiction to heroin and honestly, this seems like the kind of joke he might make. He feels high again but this time it's her, the Heroine. She's his new drug.

Cheers chanted 'cause they said/There was no chance trying to be the greatest in the league/Where's the trophy?/He just comes running over to me

I struggle to make meaning of the bridge, but to me, I interpret this as HER saying he's the prize, where's her trophy, well he's running over to her right now. He's on his way to her. Everyone is telling her this isn't going to work, this isn't the kind of love she was writing about in Enchanted but she's not listening. It SHOULD be that kind of love, she wants it to be, and he's on his way to her. This time they're gonna get it right and this time it's going to work the way they both want it to.

#taylor swift #again this is just an interpretation #if you disagree thats okay! i dont mind but dont come running in here hot #the alchemy has become one of my favorites like if this is a stage of grief #its denial for sure

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earlgreytea68 · 2 months

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actually could be "tell me boys like YOU like me better" for example

anyway way to gay it up even more patrick ilu: in the original lyric the gender of the *you* is unclear, could be a girl (tell me you like boys like me better) but with this lyric fumble patrick mfking stump makes it unquestionably gay lmao ilovehim

OH MY GOD THIS IS SUCH TRUTH.

hahahaha you know that Tumblr post that was going around, like, last week or whatever, that was like, "Patrick is the most normal guy who always finds himself in A Situation." I feel like here's another one. Like, I feel like Patrick doesn't DELIBERATELY want to make things gayer, but HE JUST CAN'T HELP IT hahaha he fumbles the words and the true gay meaning emerges from behind the clouds like magic. Patrick Stump never messes up -- he just reveals truths.

#peterick #fall out boy #fob

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imaddicted2hs · 1 year

Text

ONE SHOT- Broken Mirror

Its going to be sad sad so brace yourself guys.

And yes hey, posting after like decades lmao. Its just a little something i have been feeling lately so if you wanna feel a lil sad, this is the one shot maybe.

Word Count- 1.4k

Warnings- Angst

Happy Reading!!

---------------------------

I slowly breathe in as I mindlessly open my case. I grab the neck of my black guitar, pulling it out carefully. “You will play great y/n I know, don’t stress it too much yeah?” I give my friend a small tight lipped smile and look around to see if he’s there.

We don’t have the same class anymore but he has friends in my section so he often visits during the common break. I have spent nights memorising this very song by heart. I learned to play it on guitar so that I could sing it all out, all my feelings for him. But it will be like a knife was stabbed in my heart if he doesn’t show up. I notice a few heads turn towards me as I sit on the desk, positioning my guitar. I feel the coarse strings on my fingertips as I hold some random chords and give it a light strum. Before beginning with it I quickly glance at the door and to my surprise I make eye contact with him. It’s so quick that I barely see anything other than his green orbs looking at me and his body leaning at the door frame basically effortlessly. Without giving it a second thought I start strumming the intro attracting a few more half interested peeps around me. I get lost in singing right away because I have always felt those lyrics deep in my bones. I was in no way a singer but I was fine enough to not make other people’s ear bleed and sound tolerable if there was light music in the background.

“I wanna taste his lips, yeah cause they taste like you, I wanna drown myself in a bottle of his perfume.”

I made sure to change the pronouns as I sang the song and I tried my best, I really did, to not turn my head to the left as I said the you part but it was almost like my actions were out of my control. Ofcourse I regretted doing that because as soon as I turned my head, he stared right at me and I saw his eyebrows shoot up, which was almost unnoticeable, but I caught the slight surprise in his eyes. Regardless I continued and it felt like the song ended too fast or I swallowed a whole verse or something but maybe I was just being paranoid. My idiotic brain made sure to not skip looking at him at any of the ‘yous’. It was almost embarrassing because I felt like a few people noticed it. I strum the last chord and let it echo as I pull my hand away and smile at the small crowd in front of me. I didn’t even notice that I’d attracted a good amount, probably around 50 people, as I played. Not even a second later I heard a small applause and my friend's rushing words like “dude how” or “damn girl” as she gave me a side hug. I didn’t have the guts anymore to look at him again and my only friend who knew about him gave me a sympathetic look which I just shrugged to in response. So what really was the deal? Harry Styles. The boy I have liked since 7th grade, which means it’s been almost 5 years now. We were not strangers no but we weren’t close friends either. The dynamic we had was too confusing for me to understand properly. We actually did pretty great when it came to texting but it all came down to puddles of awkwardness and almost forced conversation whenever we tried to talk face to face. It wasn’t like that for the first year I’d met him but after two years of not seeing each other and only texting at times, it all ended in this weird ball of confusion. Almost like an intangible mess of lose threads. And what made it worse was my old ex best friend, now like a frenemy, was closer to him than I could ever be. It was almost excruciating to watch them talk so freely and even laugh together. It’s a thought that can make me bust into tears at anytime of the day so I won’t go down that road. I hear a few “that was really nice” and “great job, keep it up” as I start to put my guitar back in because boys around here can’t be trusted. All the compliments made sure to put a permanent smile on my face but my bubble is popped as soon as I see him approach me. “You looked adorable while playing the guitar.” It takes me a second to get a grasp of what he said but I mutter a quick thanks as I try to find something, anything, to do with my hands as we talked. “Could we talk for a moment?” I close my eyes and mentally curse myself because I had a feeling that this would happen but I also had a small hope that he won’t find the guts to do this. “Sure ofcourse” I reply as coolly as I could. I follow him as he tries to make small talks. I know I can break the ice and make it less hard but something inside me doesn’t want me to. Almost as if my soul is enjoying watching him struggle. “So how’s life treating you?” “Nothing much, what about you?” Him and his dry replies again. I just shrug in response to challenge that response. “So who’s the guy crush?” He askes me all of a sudden and I just scoff as a reflex. “Are you really asking me that right now?” My question is laced with annoyance and I can see that he’s taken back by my sudden change in mood but I’m done pretending now. Before he can say anything I attack him with my words. “Not a single glance I gave you was the answer to the question you just asked? I can’t take it anymore Harry, I can’t. Either you are just naive or you just don’t want to see what’s right in front of you.” My voice is shaking but I continue because his face portrays not a single emotion right now.

“You give me all of these mixed signals and I almost believe that you like me but then you sometimes say stuff that screams ‘we are friends’ right in my face. I like you Harry and this all is killing me.” I just stare at him because I know he deserves atleast a little time to comprehend it all. He sighs before he makes a go for it. “Y/n you’re cool and a nice friend but I’m just not looking for a relationship right now. But I promise that we can be really good friends. You can trust me.”

“That’s it? Good friends after this? What? Okay not looking for a relationship. With me or in general? And why didn’t I hear you say that you don’t reciprocate these feelings? What if that girl you like liked you back? You would date her I’m sure.” I can’t think straight as I bombard him with all these questions with tears daring to fall from my eyes. He just gives me a look from which I can’t make out anything and I just stand there watch him leave after he mutters an apology. I want to scream at him. I want to yell and let him know that now also he did nothing but communicate badly and I hate him for not liking me back but I don’t say any of that. Instead I break into tears and let all the frustration out because it really isn’t his fault. He never asked me to fall for him and he never asked me to get attached to him. He didn’t promise me a strong bond or a friendship. He didn’t because he didn’t need to. I fell into the ugliest trap of one sided love and I resent the fact that anything like that exists. I get a hold of myself and I sprint into the nearest restroom. I wash my face, tell myself everything is fine and somehow make it out alive of the next three hours of school. I reach home and in no time I lay on my bed and I cry and cry until I have no tears left. He didn’t feel the same. It felt like I had looked in a mirror, but it was broken. I’d shouted but the voice hadn’t echoed. I had thrown a pebble in the lake and the droplets hadn't repeled. I didn’t like this feeling and I just wanted to wallow in my sadness for the whole night. And that’s exactly what I did.

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Thoughts??? Constructive criticism is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated and I hope I have improved. I'll writing something longer and better soon maybe. See ya till then;)

#harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry 1d #harry styles #harry styles and y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot

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squarebracketsmileyface · 5 months

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I have no clue if anyone has offered up this song before. (Or if you're still taking them) But Des Rocs - Nothing Personal Reminds me Sorry, Its locked. Specifically how Alex treats Jay. (I hope you see my vision)

Oooooo i haven't heard of this song before. It's fun. I'm definitely still taking songs, i'm always taking songs, i fucking love getting new songs for sorry it's locked lol. its the best way to think about the fic while i can't actually write it for whatever reason.

The way the dude sounds like he's losing his mind as the song progresses is so perfect honestly, because yeah, Alex is slowly losing his mind.

Okay, shitty sleep deprived lyric analysis whoooo. Enjoy lmao, if this makes no sense blame my going to sleep at 4am last night.

I found you sleeping in my coffin Pale white and in your favourite party dress I start to feel a little nauseous Bloody tears, they are falling as I wept

Okay, but like, this whole thing makes it sound like the singer is a vampire, right? Alex feeling like he's undead. He's dead but his body just keeps going.

The first line is like when Alex woke up after he and Jay had sex at his house. He woke up to find Jay in his bed (i know he didn't actually wake up in the morning with Jay in his bed, he found Jay in the laundry closet, but he can have woken up in the middle of the night or something and saw Jay), in his coffin if we're going by the whole undead thing, which i am, and he feels like he must have drained Jay dry (of energy not actual blood, but you know) hence the 'paleness,' and he starts to realize just how badly he's fucked up by doing all the things he refused to in college.

And it makes him feel sick and really upset because in the back of his mind he starts to realize he's going to have to drive Jay away, otherwise it'll cause all sorts of issues.

You could use a little action Run away and lead a life without consequence Reaching for a book of matches Strike a light and you'll see the real mess that I am

Alex want's Jay to leave of his own accord, he wants Jay to take action and leave so that he doesn't have to kill him, and if he makes Jay think he's making the decision to leave on his own he's more likely to stick with it. If Alex just told him to leave, Jay would more likely try even harder to get answers and figure out what's happening.

Alex is going to show Jay just how nasty he can be, just what a mess of a person he can be, in hopes that it'll scare Jay away and keep him safe.

I swear it's nothing personal (X8)

Alex is desperately trying to remind himself that it's not anything to do with a personal dislike for Jay (it's literally the exact opposite lol), he is doing everything to keep Jay safe, and if Jay was anyone else he'd have done the same to try and save them (as long as he liked them the same way he liked Jay)

I'm gonna take you home 'Til the morning comes I swear it's nothing personal I swear that it is nothing personal

Self explanatory, he took Jay home and they had sex at his house, in his bed, for the first time. And then in the morning he did a full 180 from being lovely to being a dick, but it wasn't personal. it's not because he hates Jay or anything like that and he's desperate to remind himself of that and prove himself.

I, I see your collar bone And wanna lose control I swear it's nothing personal I swear that it is nothing personal

Gay. Lmao. Sorry, anyway, yeah, Alex saw Jay again in that parking lot and he just wanted to, like, let things go back to how they used to be even just for a little bit. He wanted to 'lose control' and just ignore all the stuff he's meant to be doing (killing Jay) to do something enjoyable instead (fucking Jay), and that 'loss' of control would actually be him taking control of the situation, and taking control of Jay again, like back in college.

This time when Alex swears it's nothing personal he's doing it in a desperate attempt to tell himself that it's not because he likes Jay, he's just pent up and frustrated and anyone would do. But it is personal. It is because it's Jay. He knows he'll have to kill him at some point, but he's trying desperately to find a reason not to do it yet.

I, I wanna drain you of the mourning I wanna tear away the shadows brick by brick I know you could've used a warning You thought I kissed you just to borrow some lipstick?

Alex hopes that taking Jay back to his house and having sex with him there will kind of make it so that Jay's less upset by having to make the decision to leave. Logically, he knows that's not how that works and fucking Jay at his house and in his bed just made it more painful for Jay to leave, because he finally got a taste of everything he'd been hoping he could one day have with Alex, but then again Alex isn't thinking straight, so.

Jay definitely could have used a warning when it came to everything Alex did, like, all the stuff the morning after, but Alex couldn't give him one. If Alex had given Jay a warning that he was going to be lovely to him and then turn a full 180, that would have worked against Alex's goal of making Jay hate him.

Also, the last line, about the lipstick, to me kinda sounds like the singer is saying that he didn't just kiss his partner for some stupid reason, like to borrow their lipstick. He kissed them for a real reason. Alex kissing Jay on the forehead and cheek and all that wasn't for no reason, Alex did it because he likes Jay and he knew that'd be the last chance he ever got to do that.

Go be a stranger at a party Reading lips across a room of empty space With a secret you keep guarded Like a funeral buries all our past mistakes

Again, Alex needing Jay to leave and hate him and become a stranger.

I swear it's nothing personal (X8)

I'm gonna take you home Until the morning comes I swear it's nothing personal I swear that it is nothing personal

I, I see your collar bone And wanna lose control I swear it's nothing personal I swear that it is nothing personal

I, I'm gonna take you home Unil the morning comes I swear it's nothing personal I swear that it is nothing personal

I, I see your collar bone And wanna lose control I swear it's nothing personal I swear that it is nothing personal

I... (X4)

I'm gonna take you home 'Til the morning comes I swear it's nothing personal I swear that it is nothing personal

I, I see your collar bone And wanna lose control I swear it's nothing personal I swear that it is nothing personal

I...

All repeated lyrics so same as above because i'm too tired to come up with anything else, i keep going to bed at 3am

#Sorry it took so long to get to this one lol #alex kralie #jay merrick #jaylex #marble hornets #marble hornets fanfic #marble hornets fanfiction #MH sorry its locked #lyric analysis i guess

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