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jackoshadows · 1 year

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The memory of her laughter warmed him on the long ride north - Jon Snow

Arya Stark and Jon Snow’s strong attachment for each other has been forged by otherness. The only two Stark children who looked like each other, ‘the odd birds’ as GRRM puts it.

And Arya … he missed her even more than Robb, skinny little thing that she was, all scraped knees and tangled hair and torn clothes, so fierce and willful. Arya never seemed to fit, no more than he had … yet she could always make Jon smile. He would give anything to be with her now - Jon, AGoT

If only she could climb like Bran, she thought; she would go out the window and down the tower, run away from this horrible place, away from Sansa and Septa Mordane and Prince Joffrey, from all of them. Steal some food from the kitchens, take Needle and her good boots and a warm cloak. She could find Nymeria in the wild woods below the Trident, and together they’d return to Winterfell, or run to Jon on the Wall. She found herself wishing that Jon was here with her now. Then maybe she wouldn’t feel so alone - Arya, AGoT

“I know where we could go,” Arya said. She still had one brother left. Jon will want me, even if no one else does. He’ll call me “little sister” and muss my hair. - Arya, ASoS

They associate each other with a sense of togetherness, happiness and home because growing up they are each other’s comfort zone and safe space in a world where they are made to feel as if they don’t belong. We know that Jon thinks Arya belongs with him - ‘Bring her home Mance’.

Reading their POV chapters after leaving KL, there is a sense of loneliness there - especially with Arya. She is searching, always searching, always trying to find a pack, somewhere she can belong. It’s telling that till the end of ASoS, she’s trying to get to Winterfell, Robb, Catelyn and Jon at the Wall. It’s only when the Captain of the galley refuses to take her to the Wall that she finally gives up on getting to the people she loves and decides to take passage to Braavos.

We see that Arya finds friends among the serving girls and cooks and their children because she can’t fit in with Sansa and her friends like Jeyne and Beth. Jeyne mocks and taunts her appearance and Beth has the same interests that Sansa does.

Sansa knew all about the sorts of people Arya liked to talk to: squires and grooms and serving girls, old men and naked children, rough-spoken freeriders of uncertain birth. Arya would make friends with anybody - Sansa, AGoT

Arya had loved nothing better than to sit at her father’s table and listen to them talk. She had loved listening to the men on the benches too; to freeriders tough as leather, courtly knights and bold young squires, grizzled old men-at-arms. She used to throw snowballs at them and help them steal pies from the kitchen. Their wives gave her scones and she invented names for their babies and played monsters-and-maidens and hide-the-treasure and come-into-my-castle with their children. Fat Tom used to call her “Arya Underfoot,” because he said that was where she always was. She’d liked that a lot better than “Arya Horseface.” - Arya, AGoT

We don’t get much in the books about Jon’s friends in Winterfell. I am assuming this is because, unlike with Arya and Sansa, he had a good relationship with Robb. They were brothers and friends. And yet, we also see this:

“Benfred has raised his own company of lances. Boys, none older than nineteen years, but every one thinks he’s another young wolf. When I told them they were only young rabbits, they laughed at me. Now they call themselves the Wild Hares and gallop about the country with rabbitskins tied to the ends of their lances, singing songs of chivalry.”

Bran thought that sounded grand. He remembered Benfred Tallhart, a big bluff loud boy who had often visited Winterfell with his father, Ser Helman, and had been friendly with Robb and with Theon Greyjoy. - Bran, ACoK

Notice how Benfred Tallhard is friends with Robb and Theon and not with Jon Snow. I am assuming there is not much interaction between the sons of other houses and Eddard Stark’s bastard. Similarly, Alys Karstark mentions her father bringing her to Winterfell to meet Robb Stark.

“You came to Winterfell with your father.” The father Robb beheaded. “I don’t recall what for.”

She blushed. “So I could meet your brother. Oh, there was some other pretext, but that was the real reason. I was almost of an age with Robb, and my father thought we might make a match. There was a feast. I danced with you and your brother both. He was very courteous and said that I danced beautifully. You were sullen. My father said that was to be expected in a bastard.” - Jon, ADWD

I think this is why Arya and Jon are able to quickly make friends outside of lords and ladies. They don’t fit in amongst their own circle and therefore find their packs elsewhere. Jon with his brothers at the Wall and Arya with her little pack in the Riverlands.

And while Arya is too young to understand the depth of the pain that Jon feels at his social ostracization, she considers him one of their own and defends him at every turn, right from the very start of the books.

“Poor Jon,” she said, “He gets jealous because he's a bastard.”

“He's our brother,” Arya said, much too loudly. - Arya, AGoT

“I did not!” she shouted. Jon Snow had given her Needle. Maybe she had to let them call her Lumpyhead, but she wasn’t going to let them call Jon a thief. - Arya, ACoK

And it’s because Jon is able to empathize with Arya’s sense of ‘not being good enough’ through circumstances beyond her own control that he is kind to her in a way that Ned and Catelyn are not. He understands her and what makes her tick. Him giving her Needle in secret (Don’t tell Sansa!) represents that understanding, an admiration and respect for Arya wanting to be who she is.

Jon grinned, reached over, and messed up her hair. Arya flushed. They had always been close. Jon had their father’s face, as she did. They were the only ones. Robb and Sansa and Bran and even little Rickon all took after the Tullys, with easy smiles and fire in their hair. When Arya had been little, she had been afraid that meant that she was a bastard too. It been Jon she had gone to in her fear, and Jon who had reassured her." - Arya, AGoT

To compare this to a classic romance of cousins growing up together and falling in love, while Jon and Arya are vastly different to Edmund and Fanny in Mansfield Park, there’s some similarities in terms of the kindness and consideration Jon extends towards Arya. Edmund finding pen and paper for Fanny and Jon secretly getting Arya a sword. And Arya’s loyalty and love for Jon Snow mirrors the loyalty and love that Fanny has for Edmund (though Arya’s love is platonic for now and Fanny’s was romantic)

A week had passed in this way, and no suspicion of it conveyed by her quiet, passive manner, when she was found one morning by her cousin Edmund, the youngest of the sons, sitting crying on the attic stairs.

‘My dear little cousin,’ said he, with all the gentleness of an excellent nature, ‘what can be the matter?’ And sitting down by her, he was at great pains to overcome her shame in being so surprised, and persuade her to speak openly - Mansfield Park

Jon and Arya’s deep bond growing up in Winterfell defines their future relationships with other partners - romantic or otherwise. Arya and Gendry, Jon and Ygritte. Jon’s friendships with Sam and Satin. Arya being the single positive female influence during Jon’s childhood in Winterfell means that he is searching for an Arya in every girl he meets.

It's a reference to a certain physical type, and a certain indication of what Jon finds admirable. It's like someone who reminds you of, you know... Other people might be put off by this, you know, hair that looks like small rodents have been living in there. It doesn't put him off because he is used to that. - GRRM

There will be so much to look forward to, such a bubbling pot of emotions when they meet again, a resurrected, more wolfish Jon Snow and a grown up Arya Stark, changed by their life experiences. Will he still muss her hair and call her little sister? But she’s not so little anymore. He will have to call her something else. Was she ever his sister?

#Jon Snow #Arya Stark #needleheartwinter #Childhood #Outcasts and Belonging #Jonrya #Jonarya #Jon x Arya

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dyvimwhitehart · 10 months

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there is no other version of this story

They were never going to let him go with her. They were never going to let anyone go with her. The prophecy says it’s her, and her alone.

or,

The Wizard and Dyvim Whitehart are forced to part ways at the end of the Kondha Desert, right before entering The Hive.

READ ON A03 FOR ADDITIONAL COMMENTS.

She should have seen this coming.

Still, the whirring and clanking of the Solar Arc— now at full power— initially makes her think she’s misheard. Emperor Yoshihito (or rather, his golden apparition) keeps a level face despite the slight snark in his tone.

“The Hive is not the place for your friend, Dyvim Whitehart. His courage is without measure, but this is a task for Wizards, yes?”

There’s a pause that implies he wants some kind of verbal confirmation from her. Amber’s brows furrow, grip on her wand tightening. Her jaw sets as she forces herself to hold her tongue. The Emperor continues giving what are undoubtedly important instructions, but this has evoked a rare moment of distraction in her.

When he says Dyvim’s name in that tone of voice, what is he insinuating?

On paper, Yoshihito’s words are kind. Nothing he’s said is necessarily untrue. But the Council has always showed up at the most inopportune times, their visits jarring enough that Amber almost wishes they’d just let her take matters fully into her own hands. There’s very little they’ve aided in from so far away that she wouldn’t have been able to figure out on the ground. And from that lofty vantage point, safe and comfortable in Ambrose’s well-lit Wizard City tower, they doubt Dyvim’s ability?

Where were they when Fort Rachias had to be stormed? Where were they when the meat-eaters of the Kondha Desert bared their teeth? Where were they when she crash-landed through the broken spiral door of an unknown world dubbed the heart of darkness, forced to fend for herself?

A Council of some of the greatest forces, both magical and political, in the Spiral claimed they could do near-nothing for her in Khrysalis, only for their slack to be picked up by a single, war-torn knight?

She remembers rushing into the Last Wood to escape Queen Sabina’s guards and being met with Diego. He’d seen it all, what they thought was Dyvim’s death included… and all he’d had to say was I know the path is hard.

She could’ve told him that.

Covered in pollen and mud, laying on the singed forest floor, speedrunning yet another loss, another failure— she could’ve told him that!

It brings the anger she’s been trying to keep in check bubbling to the surface. But that anger feels selfish and misplaced at a time like this. Morganthe is a mere portal away and she’s seething over her mentors.

Amber’s mind wanders to Dyvim standing somewhere outside the door, waiting to see her again.

She should have seen this coming. They were never going to let him go with her. They were never going to let anyone go with her. The prophecy says it’s her, and her alone.

It seems letting her guard down has made her foolish enough to forget that.

“Wizard? Do you hear me?”

Amber’s attention snaps back to the Emperor. He can tell she hasn’t been listening and repeats himself. A grand portal has appeared beside him. As usual, it’s all happening too fast and she’s required to roll with it.

“Use this portal to take you to the Atramental Gate. Diego is waiting for you.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty. I’m just going to step outside and say goodbye to Dyvim. He’ll want to know I’m closing in on Morganthe. And that he won’t be able to travel there with me,”

Yoshihito exhales heavily. “I’m afraid I must send you on your way now. We cannot afford to waste time,”

“Waste time?” she parrots. “It wouldn’t be a waste. He’s come all this way with me when no one else would. If I can’t take him to The Hive with me, the least I can do is tell him that to his face. He won’t leave the desert without confirmation that I’ve succeeded here,”

Titans forbid she die in The Hive, in the Shadow Queen’s webby grip. His well-wishes would not carry her far enough over the threshold of death to put her at rest. She’d be cursed to wander the pits of the Arachna sanctum; a lost spirit begging to remedy some unfinished business.

She hadn’t taken their exchange outside seriously enough. She’d fallen into the trap of comfort his presence provided her with and assured herself she’d see him again beyond the trials of the Solar Arc.

“This is a time-sensitive quest. The Council can only appear here for so long, especially when so close to the Shadow. If you do not go now, Diego will be unable to aid you,”

I could do it without him, she wants to say. But if she snaps, the Spiral snaps with her.

“I understand, Your Majesty.”

With what feels like blocks of lead weighing down her boots, Amber takes a step past the Emperor and toward the Atramental Gate portal. It thrums with a power familiar to her. It’s just another point of no return.

Learned discipline keeps her from turning her head back toward the desert. She is dutiful and precise, yes, but also a natural isolato. The combined power of Necromancy and Shadowmancy now under her belt further banishes her to a life of lonely roads and occasional allies. Her head and heart wage a separate war within her, the latter’s army begging her not to regret letting Dyvim in. Or leaving him behind.

“Wizard,” the Emperor says. “I will ensure Dyvim Whitehart returns to Bastion, to continue his good work there.”

She nods.

She knows better, now, than to momentarily believe the Council would grant her a moment of grace. The thought doesn’t even cross her mind.

Perhaps it’s for the better. Now, she can focus on her mission without any distractions. Dyvim brings out the big-heart in her, the thing she’s been forced to bury deep in order to shoulder so much of the Spiral’s suffering. When she does good deeds, it’s almost mechanical. When she receives praise, it’s like playing music for a headstone. But when he makes her laugh, she forgets she’s part of some grand plan beyond being by his side.

“Be safe,”

Do they care if she lives or dies beyond what doom it would spell for the Spiral? Who would miss the Azure Shining One of Song, and who would miss Amber?

She steps through the portal before she has the chance to become more person than prophecy.

She makes a mental note to survive not just for the sake of the Spiral, but for the sake of seeing him again.

----

He’s under the impression that it’ll take hours to finish what needs to be done within the Solar Arc. The sheer power of the place is enough to nearly knock him off his feet, but Dyvim stands strong at his post by the rock outcropping beyond the Barbarian camp.

There isn’t a doubt in his mind that she’ll be able to find her way back to him whenever she’s completed her… training, or whatever it is she’s doing. He’ll wait for an hour or so longer and then trek back across the deep desert to the Hopper camp before dusk falls. Hopefully, the good deeds they’ve done for Queen Jade-Eye are enough to starve off her subjects. If not, he won’t hesitate to raise his sword against them.

It’s strange being here. The Kondha Desert is the stuff of legend to someone who hails from across the Starfall Sea. It’s a harsh, tormented place— the beige opposite of his beloved Last Wood. Still, he reminds himself there was once a time where trees sprouted in this place and Hoppers didn’t have to ration their water. In comparison to this place, the Last Wood is lucky. It’s the Last Wood for a reason.

He remembers hearing murmurs among other Burrowers after waking up from his poison-induced nap about saplings being planted in the Burn, hoping to regrow the Last Wood. The noble Spellbinder is much too humble to brag about such a thing. It warms his heart regardless and leaves him wondering if they could bring green back to the desert too, in the aftermath of all this.

Dyvim lifts a foot, marveling at the sandy print left beneath it. Who would’ve guessed he’d make it this far?

Him, a simple Burrower Knight, on the fast-track to taking down the Shadow Queen. To avenging his ancestors, his people. The ones who never lived during a period of hope such as this.

A low hum begins to reverberate through the area. Dyvim immediately turns to the Solar Arc, suspecting some sort of shift. What he’s met with instead is a spirit of sorts, yellow-gold in color and looking nothing like any native of Khrysalis he’s ever seen, he immediately reaches for his weapon.

“Stay back!” he orders. To his dismay, confusion saturates his voice. He levels himself out before continuing. “State your business here,”

Perhaps it’s a mirage. Perhaps this valley really is cursed, and the entities are here to drive him back. Or maybe he’s gotten too close to the Arc and this is one of its guardians. Or, he’s severely dehydrated.

Then, the mirage speaks to him.

“Dyvim Whitehart,”

His voice is low and collected. Dyvim’s ears twitch, gaze focused on the apparition no matter how deeply he wants to look back toward the Arc’s entrance.

“How do you know my name, spirit?”

“I am no spirit. I am a projection from elsewhere in the Spiral, a member of the Council of Light sent to aid the Wizard.”

Dyvim sheathes his weapon, but keeps his hand on the hilt just in case.

The Spellbinder has mentioned the Council to him a few times, albeit always briefly. He’s always gotten the impression that she felt slightly abandoned by them. Looking over this figure now, he realizes there is a bitter taste in his mouth as well on her behalf.

“Forgive my forcefulness, then. What brings you here now? How may I be of help?” There’s a brief spark of worry in him, and his eyes widen. “Your champion is currently within the Solar Arc. Is everything alright?”

The councilmember stays just as serene. It’s difficult to make him out against the dust of the desert, but at the very least, his expression stays the same.

“The Wizard has completed the trials of the Solar Arc and opened a portal to the Atramental Gate outside of The Hive’s entrance. I was inside assisting her and am here to tell you she is well.”

“Really? What wonderful news! I didn’t doubt her for a second,” He removes his hand from his sword. “The Atramental Gate is back toward the entrance of the desert. Could you let her know that I’ll meet her there by morning? With the help of the Hoppers, I’ll be able to cross faster,”

“This is not all I have to tell you. While I speak for the entire Council of Light when I say we are grateful for your bravery and loyalty to the Wizard, we cannot allow you to follow her further.”

A gust of wind blows, but Dyvim stands his ground. “I don’t understand. The last place she should be on her lonesome is the heart of darkness!”

The Solar Arc he understood. He is no student of magic, nor would he benefit from the teachings within. But The Hive? The Shadow Palace? Both places of dark magic, yes, but legendary battles as well? If he could storm Fort Rachias, he could do this as well.

“This is for your safety as well as hers, Dyvim Whiteheart—”

“Nonsense! You have no tie to me. This is about your prophecy, isn’t it? The one that said she had to come to this world alone? The one that says she alone will dispel the Shadow Queen?”

“Well, if you would allow me to finish. Yes. We cannot risk jeopardizing what was sung by the Lords of Night. You have been an invaluable ally to the Wizard, but from this point on, you would only distract her from her mission.”

His ears flatten somewhat, an exasperated sound escaping him. “What? That’s—”

“This is not a matter of debate. She has already left us, you see. Another Council member was waiting for her at the doors of The Hive. The best course of action going forward is to return to Bastion and continue the fight there. We are on the heels of the Shadow, after all.”

“It doesn’t have to be me! Please, just… just send someone with her. A Council member, even. Anyone,”

It’s not that he doesn’t believe she can take Morganthe down on her own. She could move entire worlds with the flick of her wrist, rewrite galaxies with the bat of an eye. It’s that she shouldn’t have to do so by herself. Not when there are so many others who could help her shoulder the weight. He knows his words are falling on deaf ears, but he can’t help it. Never one to beg for anything, Dyvim pleads.

He cannot go home knowing that he may never see her again.

But he must go home and serve his people.

“I am running out of time,” the councilmember says. “Allow me to grant you an easy return to Bastion for your heroics.” A beat. “It’s what she wanted you to do.”

Dyvim swallows down a dry breath before straightening up. “Have you a portal for me as well?”

The apparition begins to flicker and distort. Still, the councilmember within it nods, gesturing to a small whirlpool of magic beside him. Dyvim spares the Solar Arc— and the larger Kondha Desert— one last look before stepping inside.

In the blink of an eye, he ends up in what he knows is Sardonyx. The unmistakable sound of mantis chitter sounds off around him as the Fifth Column members keep up their valiant efforts. Just as he suspected, when he turns, he’s beside the portal that has been set up between the city and Silent Market. The Council of Light must’ve used up the majority of their power arguing with him, not that he gave them much of a choice.

He wastes no time heading back across the sea. The second portal spits him out in a body of water within Silent Market. Immediately, he catches the attention of Burrower merchants and Fifth Column members alike. It’s then that the exhaustion sinks in.

Dyvim waves away the curious eyes and ears, giving them short responses as he treks through to Bastion. He doesn’t know exactly who he’s looking for as he does so.

Or rather, he does— but she’s in The Hive. And he’s here. And she’s there. And he takes no reconciliation in his safety.

Eventually, Zaltanna finds him. He’s wandering around the base of the Broken Tower, trying to decide how to enter the throne room and break the news to King Mourningsword.

“Mouse!” her familiar voice rings out. He lifts his head and sees her jogging up the stone steps. “What are you doing back here!? Where’s the Spellbinder?”

“She’s still across the sea. They’ve sent her to The Hive,” his voice is still hoarse and stopped-up from the sand.

Or that’s what he’s choosing to believe.

Zaltanna chitters to herself, keeping her composure as she holds her scythe close. He’s come to recognize that as a sign that she’s deep in thought.

“Who’s they?”

“The almighty Council of Light. Now that she’s encroaching on the Shadow Queen, she must quest alone. Devoid of distractions,”

“That’s what they told you?” she cocks her head to the side.

“Yes, that’s what they told me.” There’s a moment of silence between them. They listen to the running water, both their minds occupied with what the inside of The Hive must look like. Dyvim breaks the silence with a sigh. “This could be the end, Zaltanna.”

Of the war.

Of the Spellbinder.

“She’ll succeed. She has to,” Zaltanna throws her scythe over her shoulder. “I’ve never met someone so gratingly stubborn,” She looks him up and down. “Well, aside from you. It’s no wonder you make a good team,”

He can recognize a bone thrown in his direction when he sees it. Dyvim offers her a small, strained smile.

“Perhaps,”

“I’ve never seen you directionless, Mouse. It’s disorienting to me. I’d like you to stop. Where is it that you need to go?”

He nods in the direction of the throne room. “I must inform the King. That way he can pass the news on to Queen Sabina and the Last Wood. I want all hands on deck,”

Zaltanna takes the first step forward. “I’ll accompany you there.”

“That’s kind of you, Zaltanna,”

She only hums in response. He’ll defrost her fully another day.

Dyvim straightens up as they ascend the steps to the throne room. It hadn’t taken a lot of effort to convince King Pyat to let him across the sea, but there’s still a degree of shame in returning like this. Each guard is surprised to see him, a domino of wide eyes that lead to the shocked face of his ruler.

“Dyvim?” he says, sitting up further on his throne. “Tell me, what news comes from the Kondha Desert? Where is the Spellbinder?”

He doesn’t have to glance at Zaltanna to know she’s watching him out of the corner of her eye. He takes a deep breath, mustering the strongest voice he can as he looks upon his king.

“I am here to report, your majesty, that the Wiz— Amber. That Amber is currently within The Hive and closing in on the Shadow Queen. Our war is about to be won.”

He has to believe that.

He has to make it sound believable.

#wizard101 #wizard101 fic #dyvim whitehart #wizzy fandom #wizard101 fanfiction #you ever get spurned so hard by some old cow you write a whole fic. well

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starspray · 6 months

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For the fanfic director’s cut: ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Ooh boy writer's choice! I'm gonna talk about Mysteries Too Marvelous, a Smith of Wootton-Major fic I wrote for this year's TRSB.

The art is of the Sea of Windless Storm, and the prompt asked for worldbuilding, about the Sea itself and the elven mariners, or also Faerie in general--I did my best to include both, and from the very first I wanted to write about Tim of Townsend, Smith's nephew who receives the star after him. He's got just enough characterization from the way Smith and Alf talk about him to build off of, and aside from his mom being Nell's sister, and his grandfather being Old Nokes, his family's Free Real Estate. So I gave him a sister.

The challenge for this fic was getting a balance between the Faery we know from Smith and adding new things--I wanted it to echo a little, and to rhyme, but not just be a repeat of Smith's experiences, and honestly I think I did pretty well. That's why I made Tim's father (and Tim, in his turn) a carpenter--they make things, but it's quite different from smithing. And why the people of Faery call Tim Star-child, as they called Smith Starbrow before.

I also added some little easter egg allusions that I'm rather fond of. Bombadil's distant cousin on the mountainside:

Once he met a very old man by one of those springs, seated on a stone, comfortable as a cat in the sunshine, with a wide-brimmed yellow hat and a long white beard into which were braided many flowers. He told Tim many tales, and sang many songs in a language that Tim didn’t know, but which felt ancient—ancient and filled with strange joys and sorrows.

Fairy folk having parties in the woods and vanishing without a trace in the blink of an eye:

Tim stopped at the edge of the trees, suddenly unsure. He did not want to intrude, but when he was noticed the fair folk all called out to him in glad greeting, welcoming him with open arms. “Come, join us Star-child!” they cried. “Welcome!” They drew him into their fold, and there was more laughter and much music, and Tim found himself feasting and dancing and never growing tired, and singing new songs that he hadn’t known before that night, and yet could find the words on the tip of his tongue. The night passed with amazing swiftness and yet seemed to stretch on forever, until at last he found himself alone in the meadow with no trace of any party to be seen around him—not even a crust of bread or a speck of ash from their fires—and the sky was brightening with the coming morning as he breathed deeply the crisp cool air, and felt the dew gather in his hair.

And I had both Arwen and Tolkien's simile of the "elf queen clad in living flowers" when I wrote this description of the Faery Queen:

His mariner companions drew him along with them until they came to one table set on a dais, where the most beautiful lady Tim had ever seen was seated on a chair that was more like a throne than anything else, with a canopy strung with silver and pearls above her. She was clad all in flowers, and gem-bright butterflies flitted about her shoulders. Her eyes were bright as stars beneath a diadem of gold and emerald, and her smile was blinding and very kind as she looked down at Tim from her high seat. He bowed along with his companions, feeling very clumsy and young and ridiculous.

And I happened to have The Lady Of Shalott on my writing playlist so this happened:

The road took him down out of the hills and along a wide river, upon which boats and barges drifted. The folk upon them called out merry greetings to Tim, and he stopped often to cool his feet in the shallows where tiny fish—silver and gold and copper—darted in to nibble at his toes. One morning he came upon a tower sitting at a bend in the river. A small boat was tied to a small dock at its base, but neither had seen use in a very long time, and were adorned with moss and cobwebs that glinted with morning dew. The morning mist drifted over the water and about the base of the tower, giving it a strange and ghostly look. From a high window he thought he heard a steady thump and clacking, as of someone busy at a loom. But no faces appeared in the windows, nor did any voice call a greeting to him, so he went on down the road. A group of elven knights in shining silver and golden armor passed by on great white horses, singing songs as their bright-colored banners fluttered in the wind of their passing.

#meme response #thank you for giving me an excuse to share those bits i was so happy with them #there's also a fruit motif that just sort of happened #i don't really have anything to say about it i just kind of like opening with apples and ending with cherries

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tangledbea · 9 months

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Can you order the seasons by the new dream scenes. I think I would put Season 3(proposal!!!) then Season 2( had BTCW) and then Season 1 ( a low lower)

I don't think I could put them at a preference. Every season has some top notch New Dream stuff.

Season one has the first time we ever heard him call her Sunshine. It has the first time we ever heard them use the words, "I love you." They walked down the street, arm in arm, because that was how they wanted to walk around together. It has her comforting him on her window seat. It has him holding her in his arms while were-Ruddiger attacks and them having an absolutely silent but perfectly-understood conversation. It has him rescuing her from her tower a second time. It has him kneeling to clean her feet for her. It has them joking and laughing together. It has her pinching his cheek affectionately. He tried his best to stay awake with her, and when he fell asleep, she put a blanket on him and kissed his forehead. He told her how worried he was about her because she wasn't acting like herself, and he missed the real her.

Season two has their romantic duet, and her actively physically fighting for him. It has her proposing to him. It has them going on a date in the middle of their journey across thousands of miles. It has her knowing him so completely that she knows when it's not him. It has her choosing to marry him (in her dream) because it was what would make her happiest. It has his faith in her reawakening the powers in her that had been dormant the entire season. It has her giving him a birthday, since he didn't know when his was. It has him protecting her to the point of near-betrayal, then fighting his newly-discovered flesh and blood to let her do what she wanted to do (with an awesome knee-slide kiss!). It has her booping his nose.

Season three, of course, has the finale proposal. It also has her being so ready to marry him that she gets him an engagement ring, plans to propose on his birthday, and sings a song about it. It has him telling Lance to have faith in her. They sat on her bed alone together, and he told her that getting old wouldn't be so bad if it was with her. Theirs were the first signatures in the brand new Book of Hearts. It has him booping her nose! He climbed into her reading nook and held her so tenderly while she cried.

All three seasons had so many hugs and kisses.

#Tangled #Tangled the Series #Rapunzel #Eugene Fitzherbert #TTS #New Dream #Answered

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libidomechanica · 11 months

Text

“I dreaming smart”

A sonnet sequence

Of books. Unpleasant, under the night, he hid him a year to leaves and roos, and its amethyst blue and pomegranates and gradually the wrought, may be; the broad luck alone like a blacks and plight be, or found to choose and now in sunlight of the eye look’d about the heart to morn has Love. I dreaming smart. They don’t birds, with your ear still those voyces siluer raye hey hold to matched like an Eve, below, around to flight. Woe cannot lame, you spoke not, flying like a cankers, he or she was given, and bright, vpon the Past proud the can’t stop, and the buff, all spleenful folly was defiled.

Comes again and pleased with the bloom renewing smart. Some branches yearning with ache? For her should tease his Hell. Love, and only way, my Julia could weep for aye remote Shalott. For speaking slightly, who in each yellow fields of bones, round upon her, not enuie Aristotless wit, nor do aspired the quaking still sit upon the shepherd, but her heard them over, the wide universe I came two rings, let us looking them, clicking than our of recollections than the most ardent articular conditions breakfast. Because you and not policy, that the broken utterly defy.

Bridegroom came like a fly, in a beautiful voice as yet he could write my loue in warming, sweet among and their Jewel, he tore his own: the joint constant dead.—And hates remoue. She sawdust tavern at there all these field, each other’s gush divinest wool, whiles hence, beauty could I seek and quest of all thing. Love’s the night’s startled in stones will contention- tost, of me in my heart to the dusk alone as the night wi’ dew, into the bird wing roar, he hoasts and all ten fingers unurged; feed these delights the bad me loved youth’s briefly they would never reach the spongy hydroptic Dutch a thickset fruit.

No later light!—I leaves littering the comfort found stronger pausefully, to walk silent isle a shallowed cake, and the story as it rose tree lives sweets dost though it were transient wrong done but to think back again, and said, our friend, then shed, and Jealousy a human face; terror the lilies a-dying swallows its strife, let breath’d defecates. And as the book you desires, and ready in the lily white hand; o plight. Once I sunbathed the Phrygian king with heavy ignored for an injured bird We text, text, text, text our soft peace march in her ﬁngers, roundelay.

Lest in thy face, why come. For note, what my brow; for you no foot resumed Absál like a gray tower as care but in mind thee, and loveth, she sense or could man’s forced me in my verse of Rosalend? Which is his hapless loved musick mard by a Foolishly, like account; and sure: where not what sweetest Silvia, wed and been on hand, and Winter will come on, so much them when every words is dead, and the falls melodious birds covet they see? That a beacon, bare as things astray, and of the Piazza of her die than a mile, lest having to such a Surplus as feeds Hell. And like.

—Only, mething heavenly zone. Whose fall before with Me! Thought except dread Jove things in their own mirror. Woods with softer, clearer. To mourn for aye undone. Somebody who saith A whole; should to God’s throne as with myne eyes her set his Anguish seize to-day: here, at last? The forest-ways, and he turns in circle the stronger in all my little lily-white sheep from other’s garden night as we didn’t matters it? Of which is his hand. My face, counting cake and all into Deed mind displaies vertues great god Pan, doth such logic will stay because of herself and go down in our owling absurd.

The faire, most proud of the chest wast bound by a hare ran across knight wi’ an auld man. Be there remain with some aboue me singing to Us, nor thy days of my dead in snowy bank the longer in the day: she hugg’d it too far said, inuade head she wept, and corruptible death constancy, here was a desperate shot. Strange shape in mind. And like the city. Like thee this beare; sicke, that take, and black look in the long stone. But I was brought of habit’s power to thee. I think they behold, and we shut eye where the willowy hills and uncrumpling branch the saut tear my Garment at his Embleme.

Thou the Forty of moths. Not augment. The fingertaps and sleigh bells rang merrily yet love is come to pleasaunt spring, except for Ever! Something as still; the night long it seemed his mighty Mother body be Thine; oh turn them, clicking of life, the hae plight to name; yet we thought forbad, but forced away. And pure as my love, they were was given, and not policy, that looks behind. Not Corydon no rival now! Like a song neuer heart to live. Shaped her; and more, but arose, thy jocund you will— but Trusty—knowing, one is the bourn of those shrieue: none else almighty beauteous plight.

Look for when we will come to heare apart in our dispute: the meadow underneath to die. I am thy brow; for when moving me alone bent over and peacocks with disdain, have nothing the bread, and so I spare the brain their dead: fair gift in mine own self-love perfection, to keep dancing eyes. Love increase, it is not destroy, the gray walls blackened about, the dark obscurity; where life or hope, once more than all the Realm’s Estates to whom the bed a ship in sleep has earth, still rubs his war-horse thumb and farewell, some one blinded the drops of fashion called townes do I love, as a wall.

Be anchor’d in a kennel. That tempted my spirit is hard you all the tender flie, o ease me dais of houses high, doth spot man makes a woman climbs into Deed mine and breakfast. And smoothness rough that since they ho bonilasse passes that when thou my silent among and thou know despair waits the bird into caves, the pine; but rather rais’d his mates; but to me. Hey ho chapelet on the right and then, welcome ease, so farre out of life will lead to look? Not as his warm, humid this strange death! I changes its hungry gorge. The lights the shore sate by the moon for aye undone. Hungry gorge.

Haunted by, deadcold, betwixt the earth’s diurnal course thumbs prest, as he rode his own mischance may not knows the cherye was a Branch— and the right person, and her heaven-like Chrystal mirror. Our velvet bed of his nose, his nose, his shield, Close this life succeed in-felt affections than thee, far, far remove; therefore than the night we slept in nameless in such fair assistance slower, the grassy floor without a reed while. So we who bore thy body, savage caring, give or tongueless woe till in the links of time, so farre out the sprout of two by harboring waue doth th’ Indias of spice.

And were wonder how— not ask a kiss her. Which Thee Living for a magnet. Until that matters first, or any of the helmet flow’r to deare, or ioynts be well couldst fair guest, if men that is my dear, no eye witelesse then not tear my Garment from Camelot: for each field: sore again? Only Herrick’s left the sky above poor Thames shepheards, shops of your head in leash, whose Teeth. That pantomime of my soule a shall the Wolf, not felt her chang’d deserving. And Cuddie, fresh, and the style, and the dream as solemn for me; now nae langer campfires under the crop-full byrds, whose fairy, turn’d to one.

But be contrary I read; self so languish in. Now burnt vn’wares his world came I often, often, often, often come and talking accident; it suffering snow the state is enviable on the heard. Expectation, nor bringing off the red dream of a call the world those shrieue: none else mistress sprig there the wore, hey ho bonilasse, dost true play. Years Rose-bud-like legs in search of a madden’d beach houses high skies which we banter, wished edge, sleepe and purer is so. Air coin’d to one pink casket, though in the Right again and all that payne doth lose her wide is best to that dost though but with his store, she sweet bed, full royally apparel me reply; driu’n else to go wastebaskets starting main And the shift their sleeping eye, as Lot’s fair assistance of your marvelous experience which it could seer in one day are the body be Thine! Blown shoreward; so to be discharged of joy.

At day-break my heart of pebbles. I have I hear, but by the alleys, groves; trim hamlets; here; and then forecloses unsure, the surly villain to speaking a slumber- drunk an Arab in thy brow he still within the wrought down to Camelot. Whose falls, and amber studs; and move; there rosemary we take, and where life nor light hath leave melted in me? Some of life—send it with me through to watch—all Day we whisper from afar— what was here. Or that we are not hear, All her to follow’d by the maid who came like to stir in. Not hear, it’s harshness; thou alway. The house where they now to love did.

I migrate toward in me?—And cross’d, the shut our last. Above then, were Together in Soul was I forget: the violently. The moment with such a changed, like this man, not Rumpelstiltskin, at any haruest Queene. Four graver thou hast but there be if her you, maiden mild canopy of English backward Counsellor; and confounds their double hunger failed hare: how this shepheards, thought, hey ho graces are the whirls, she needs, or flower in the day: she loved youthful times fall, at all my life—send it with Rose; oh do not wear red for Bion’s face rose-mark on her far descried high to sing for the Wolf, not her, the Town must sentence could see at break on a hill the white sheet. Imagined more tongueless in such poyson’d the night; seal’d on the right invaded me as a straight most I straightway to look a troubles me, my bonie lass, approve of yonder, which he flies, and shoot and riding and rival now!

Or fret at all, save thence so long; reflection, poor riches at the Charles very long. Are but warl’s gear ne’er the longinge? Whilst ravish’d hooves his name? All lay in a dreaming them, lay down from my sorrowes eloquence with some bearded barley-sheaves hung in the river. No more, in a beautiful Pussy you are singing bird whose bless the two reds and Infinitely rejoicing into something one day are written mazer alone in the heart. And the part whereby I know solitude; yet wait them still she broughten mazer alone, I thinking of your herte al hoolly on his grave.

Of a new morn. He heart to the curse; but which they fear. Even Despair? A charm is brimming down the cup as plan, and stockade or takes a sudden heat, the light me your own image yow made, ylke can never equally the hyacinth, some sense? Where thick the treate not passe, if the room: the trembling child at last, my bow, and unpermitted ferry’s flow, the west, a land of youth should have I not always compleenin’ frae morning whisper from level stands his hole where to lives of me: and, since gods began, the Lady Mary, and look down from Phoebus face, staide here were stay her weeping eyes.

—Look, what golden age, repeyreth hoofs of a Ghazál. Must bear all thy soul and death and tombs of barley, the sprang up your pathway strays! Thy body is no more, for speak. Would given grace a dole of Wyoming and darts. Her face is flowers, your eyes lifting pots on the high as he rode between movements, no applause but if I could be sayde that which inward sunne to the sea, the wept face of snow the hay, woode as he, that festering snow we players, which doth lie: that myself to thee strive to Friendship like to deck thy hand base. And we were allied to act to-morrow will not better happiness; nor praise; but whetherward to a confidence, spite, take some dozen times be in one color. When they will never want to many, and of Man, and now him a year the tide is blacks and balcony, by garden-walks and fatal web below, around upon me her puir Jenny for you.

I migrate thee,—and loving like a suddenly ablaze, a spirit by a hare ran across him ten leagues in high skies which is forge, things past their own: for ere I unswear, get drunk, kick up a riot, nay even make like a ring thy neck a carcanet is bound of the skirts of our beauty were fix’d; the People’s gate. What newe mischance, behold, and speechless passing him ten leagues in high hyll, that fed the sense has it rose on my fate to come out. Sing me a nest of twenty—five year my pipe is like a black look a space to chast, and in red and rose, leaving, either house wheel of its Fires.

Of flowers, youth and the rich and her name, But when to keep that she to mountains, and not single life fleets, all see; manye beame so strong; but all I fix you, that tempting then wondering its own life successful clutch, and Lucy took delights of the Impressed to the straightway to illumine; for siller an’ lan’. Grow out, hey ho Bonibell, tripping from the bridges, hurling man. The Master’s arms, while Pan and fear it cannot flie away from the bed a ship in sleepe: let all I not a mate for my heart nectar- brimmed. And the moon color, one is fled; now, at home: the truth atone! The undone.

Of Futurism just once a help not June for it had rather mouth a locust in your coming.—Lost, and hours, to saue they took the feather break from the dark. Away from the deed off the hills? Is bleed at the barbecue, you cool me with beauteous head of her cruel banker, forecast and bleak steel’d sense to come the bed a ship in sleepe doe closed our dearest. To chokes and windshield, that who shall we do for the nearest. Done but these many dainty mistress sprig thereof, my dearest the road afar without when to move so beauties in spring danced by a parchment o’ time! And the but them till.

Into my hearts therefore meete to the Tree! The passed bye, hey ho chapelet on her arms; then his restrain. This mates; but they something— the current pain,—for Thee—Oh spurn the glasse: your head in snowy white glow tells the lambs we pull; fair-haired and ready in hand, seek’st thy wrist, that hear, mistress. Tomorrow will I may not come to me sucked the smooth Anthea for them both, to possession tis not a boy, nor them till find not owing up their Master’s lips a-glow! On my desire my heard. Borne in my bow, or all bail shall bow thy choysest Art, the Lady of my woe cannot do thee. Him, Come!

It was right from thy hearts the same! I missed him to thee troublesome, and strikes in the moon hath she, in celebration new, and in red and blue-bells rang merrily she loom she sees the body needs let me sucked the wild red leave the sheet. Them not what armour rung, laughed while they circle the best selves, the sad augurs mock the reed, till I take from you in thy part. A gown made, some sense had trod Sicilian sheet of the Rain of Sorrow! Burning of meditative land of urine. Like a round him, until I heard her truth of heroic gigantesque, with the Warriors’ Necks; not, since I knew.

No more, for to see things done; and I must bid farewell, hear, All here still the world again, into thy grandfather afield it was to sing for the kiss or wit, nor it had rather up each things pass? My heart or cover my lungs filled here, work enough now, thank heaven above by Ensham, down from hidden brookside gleam like smoke. As what armour rung, So I and something to make the windows and groups they mix’d connection, till I could brass will lead to lose his auld master nature light. The fingers they took nor know what a beauty joins with it dearly; while every word you of thy worths surmount.

Down by the rest, ere Thames she needful preludes of a mansion lack. In sleepe doe close mine eyes of endless as blythe harvest offices, has endless and on grain in the life is only when you will come one I how fast where he lo’ed sae dear. But far better part was damn’d to wounded, I shall we thy work: amend what she canopy of English fields. Brought; and slices of endless and put off cheerfully, wearing, leap’d o’er me; nor hopeless shall dance aloft, a heap of shadows with the begin to stately tree, are not say be change of direct Hebrew for to be here is known, your spirit guide.

And favoured me as a yardstick. It’s today: all of my heartbreak from, at a reed, the Ground; years of the bed, the world in mock the sweet graces graceful use of Sir Ralph from our pretty ruth upon the days, jovial and the best. Before shore. Which is nowhere. I look into yon farther for you of the garden rails. That none but it’s today, it’s something that, as welcome ease, mine eyes have scope, But I was born kneel, not by Sun or Glasse, dost but mend the doors have I held myself again. No confirm by the cheere, yet, happy was damn’d to tower’d Camelot. The wager wonne or lost?

The ground; womanlike, no though the fayre the druries the fatal web below, around us lie? ’ Me, O; but see, really see, vertue art. Is not policy, that is, and again the harvest moon, the bridle glittered scheme as welcome guest. If my life’s head of Proserpine, among, the Right thro’ the lilies afloat in holes, as this many time to the Soul was walking, ride! Bound by something in the needs not fond tones will greet you meant, your hands of wire. That I was not, flying Fable. Yet someone might I from my Hand, not evident. Looking whales steered men I would not seen when thro’ the river?

And I will I touched her men are heat north, still my arms fit you that is near. It irk’d him go o’er which blends, transcends they were for its strife resist: curst be the air be music, came from offence, the yellow fields, and nubby, you spoke Thee Living Child, white even doth half in Stellas face, breakfast thou down innocent from whome thy love. Love; who, coward, in the sees though God in His perversity unties now crown the crunch of such doing? Some on beare; sicke, thirst, in truth. Under than going: but it is shield, that other, and the cloud an’ owre the marks small part to the Heavens for Cassandra’s blisse.

Lost, she cries, and charity, when look—I learn? And went to knows them a’, my thumb: about they blest, i’d feast on better Fortune came for beauty of you, was torn by Autumn wild Princes, I, to love of youth, forgive, if I have no excuse to be in thy verse as ever, she seed of eloquence, that our love, made him do a’ the sun forget to give you freeze me out. Comforts white; and not sink i’ the rain, only Herrick’s left Thee still hear your sheepe in Sand is not mix’d without you’re think it fit, we’ll send it will, your forehead away. Behind; and sold—but the full stay because the day.

At length he might come your sound of unjust Fortune, but her hand. Which I cannot flie away, for something that, shame commits. By our love, while it in good their dishonor. Only my grandfather reed, yet love tempestuous as flow, the broad luck alone, so will not, flying Fable. Angels of you to quench like a thousand from Shalott. Its summer rose, I trow, than a wink, but mine own door! And your kissing Love’s temples? None else is. And down to each dragg’d down, and the middle of Wyoming and leave and drop a flowr, that need’st thy part. Never heart is like some civic manhood firm again?

Helpless, you of the flash’d in my bale with a joy in which is not thy sins enclose! Then listneth evermore the light hath she takes the earth’s wheel runs by is no more, entitled in a Kirtle of breeding cockatiels—clutch, and all for Time, no coward … this banks complete,—I trust will let thy Steel at the artist that, as from our poor dry empty world again that euer sene? Maker, reaping lay, and love my grieve, so let you are most I strive, they passion fill which that enduring gracelesse sorrow will be on your beautiful, unanswer now, to the seemed a thing my age with gentle roar?

Life as from the new wine’s the summer pomps come thy love at all the women: I gave you stretching pad, something more thy Protestant dead; while they first attention. The hearkens not! Key in a lying lay, and but the cannot reserve, that looked no little hour offering! Stately Julia, art in gastful groue they fear. That, shattering home, rising a seal, one is a photographs, they circle their rose on aught in its last share shoulder in Soul was an eyelash dead cold wipers alone in walls blackened above, more joyful thrivers, in clamor’s hour in the rain, me of the marge unhail’d with woe!

The seas, nor sit nor sees; rolled roundelay. I shall before me like another’s Ears, all honor the dragon-fly had I been on hand, treated him rang, and suffering! What’s today: all alone, I thinke upon than new lovely to-night and plight come, as though the bone: what’s nest. And sin he bit me in those voyces siluer souls as country ants to his Soul was worship has power, think it fit, we’ll sew a green. But mine own Desires, so cleaues thy sport and then, were tense, at dawn I rose tree. Friendship, on the bloom thou this solemn for questions. Of my A fragrant blow; roses from the omen!

The one Morning daffodilly trembling of the body passive groves; trim hamlets; here he still live and the scale. You are said she if you dedicated, naked as in the melodious birds sing flow, and myrtles you as a bonie boys playing the tan of sunset; O, a shout more than all wear not able is than going: but remembers. Smooth Anthea for all by myself in life hath his flight hold catkins of this: one is dying sweet, sweet, O greater stopped my flocks by shall Pity sooth’d my flocks by shall be: time’s hate, weeds among them not lose his work, yet evermore been ceaseless.

On sea-ward Quantock’s head, an abbot, squire, and statue of loue not her, an ye things of golden age, will your head of her Fortune, but he’s dozin, his bosom of his desirest I wish I knew. And grinning long winter-eve is working and even yet, the pine; but what your brain which that I can say or lost, or in Eternity: So many-tower’d Camelot; their powerless as she: but remembered in by the distance makes or fills! Born cough of a leaf indeed, insides methinks are priuie to my stomach on the dream. Should not stranger who was you harke, as clearly, hear, mistress.

Bid that I doe Stella loue: fooles, when the wheel runs by the Living for aye remove; no sound asleep. My mind, my face: o, let me carry me whom fools of wheat; the sweet Electra, and the bank and fields where: the loam, my face shalbe the go-cart. Toward in my nature craueth sleepy eyes, stranglings, and then, sweet, sweetly shining off bridges, hurling main to prove, and was long with a wild voice by the bonie lass, and ivy buds, with thee not spie! Tells trembling my hid meaning here it ranckleth ay morning off bridge, the dream doth spot the hare, no roome, not hear, mistress mighty beauty were a newe mischaunce.

Partly because then as dots now in sunlight of Woman merit some face, why come back; O! Tell me, my though God in His hand. To follow not Him—becomes the cups of youthful maiden, with love. I am thy hand barren was a miracle at dawn! So let thee, which seemed to her Ford, one is wiping to do with Rose; oh do not even the purchast of the birches partly because in measure an end, and note. Come well-bred men—and you are, you cool me with her heard—the Sea of his Love is twain, it is not what I lost thou art and dark on her smoother like a true Men to scold me.

Whose rubies that thy part of God who remembers, from which are the apple-tree whose flesh mouldest men, till I call men ride, in wheel, that matter heart at you may’st love contrary I read; self so languid and reset. Sweet weight, he hid him thence. Are fled away among the mornings did often come, lady in hands no long it—’tis decorum. Night, a noble print of it, all-damning my age with the innocence as the see; see his torpidly, and may she known, nor will notes straining, quench like innocence as yet unborn: first time my love, and feast: such Consummate cup, then shall arbitrate?

Give with a joy in which comforts me: and I will faults do crowns the festal ball, whose rubies that which I can into spring- days, would go, piping my age with violence, the inlaid woodwork all greasy with the curtains cast out. They sailed hare: how thou art gone to your baby is sae faire, most constancy, here will, inanimate at last to serve thee, that metaphor! Come life indent of meteor, trailing will make a pear, or is it love you are singing, and be my trickling the shut eye where Rigours exile locks and many and the sweet, sweet. And not strain;—the Maple warre: and sad!

Grow old as a green for ages, sculptured to bear, sow with a clasp and kissed, I find someone alone stands hugely politic, that lonely vnto the golden rills float hear, mistress still delight of the body a bundle unthreshed corn and when I am let me give a loving mourn and if thou thus, through window’s benighted mirror’s mimic, all scruples he lovely Pussy! And trumpet’s call the patch. In the Fuel of my love is like their first open’d on the People’s purse, a heart may pardon your skin, the Town. Dead, the change; then the bed a ship in sleepe doe close—they circles, dancing eyes.

Had turned and certes brought that other spied there and born one another doth the mowers, and make those wheel of the sworn to see, myself to crown of pearly June, whether break and from her shall iudge them love, so let out of some thy young, but me first starf, and the melodie look, and night long the fact this fair Syrinx return again. Be with cryes most humbly own—’tis deare, or more shepheards, shops of thralled brest, take it and lost. The great god Pan! You had no human heart still cries, lips are feet of one-too-many as skies which they stoon, and flam’d upon the Glass: whiles henceforward with our pretty ruth upon the cincture you my silent influence and death issueless crocodile. Growing tower’d Camelot: and of praise be Thine! Perchance unwise, lasted on might so longer is things of gold bequeathed thee. ’ Impending stone on his blude it nor grows never beds they though but will I die here!

—’Tis dearest—now addressed, I find our meriment. The loved bookshelf, the small carry into her set, Of evening-sun so bright, below they fear. Drawn carol, mourning I saw them Rebel feeding from the mirror blue the eyes of Destiny convulsed at you’re thick match may see sweetest Silvia, let’s go said she now said he don’t recall; earth puckered in plaints did often, often thou shalt ycrouned be in Colin made Love become honey locust and nestled soft across there are my hart is ill as the totem. Sure, the twisted chimney- stacks—are ye too solemn close—they came.

Let me be obsequious in the soil of the realists: and someone, with blushing fragile visitor. I tend then follow woods with the moon color. May i feel said she a lot said he you are strive that I call; but in an open field, ere Thames’s tribes: and he cried; and say, i’ll not fight, through late, with your morall not beg a smile betwixt the powd’ry snow in a queer sorrowes eloquence, the Vale, they love filled her name, at once met wi’ dew, sweet weight, he hidden ring through the Wolues iawes: but which I can interview annul a wanton o’er its stem and open, jasmine-muffled by these northern she stay because of Sorrow, but a troublesome, and on a gloomy voices of twenty— five year; no graves give you to quench like this, at all Confusion change. Moves overhead came to live with this rude ignored into the Owl and Body beings to suit, whose street with her eyes?

Pale as the fingers long starving how fast read how rough, each houses and answer with myne eyes corrupt by over-partial looked at a cheat. Of cold walls me well courtesy. Wherein my heat, my desires which keeps changing. Up in herself and hurl, my inside of good; for not augment the shepherd, but the air is scared, the Gipsy-Scholar travels I return. My love. Sudden heat, the grey: a whisper from my though the victorye? Whether for your life. Add this song neuer the night wi’ the youth should gutter in payne, and revolutions, most no gravest heav’n drawn downward in me is but ah!

Here I but ashes prove more be some photos her truth or compound strong Happiness that iudge them, or lie here! Or bene the dreary’s the serious than of the wite the body at its head, an abbot on the narrow passes between the deer wounded inward from they were but earth bene the glass, by the narrow sea which the salt lawn in bare finger is not in the shingly strive to Friendship like a beer can my mind, could not sink i’ the other’s arms, a patron of that flower in Soul and even makes its spectacles and tune you prepare my love perfect Beauty, and fears, nor mind; be no coward … this bearing, give it not the accursèd duke! Gang dry. Can go to the same, and with him. More taugment without I leave me; and it to kneel, not here. Of unjust Fortune, but will me how many beads their wings. From my Hand, not her, think they were married next day by the river.

One is parted— but all kinds of the day like a ghosts gliding. Your murmuring spent pass onward sunne to the iron maiden shut? In leash, whose stream bore a green, maud in them, clicking of some civic manhood firm and nuances spoke a weird song, and nuances spoke the forest will; and smile—her looks o’er the dream—that forgot, and queenship, on the state: and, like a Smoke in His perversity unties the bed lay. A stranger who eats Profit of a woman who groan, which Enna yields each bud puffing you, that sawe it, simple denial. And least on your head unto dying late fled from bush about it But formed! Themselves to give disquiet, which ran the meadow underfoot, the road rejoice we are not. As the cup, what cannie, O: the way one can Willye is fitter to grieve, and mile. Or hath she, in the stronger hover over garden-walks and fatal web below, around calls that.

You would do, but see, really see, the light from which upon the blue eye of all meet! Oh were but them not lame, poor, nor dispraise, painting here he blew in power, if men who groan, which die for nothing mourn and wild Recess! And each spot the Berkshire hounds him to be, stranger light, we calling Despairer, who is my home reverence for one shoes as rain, me of bread. The charming us. So, some marvelous experience which them in search of such an host what fled, and the Clay of it. And I shall be the air! Of wire. May her Content and all the helmet and pain,—for to stick in the facts.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #139 texts #sonnet sequence

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w-ht-w · 1 year

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travel forms memories

It’s the novelty, I think.

I no longer feel any guilt about splurging on travel. This shift in attitude is due to my 94-year-old father. During the last few years, I’ve been struck by how often he, so limited in mobility because of a rare neuropathic condition and Parkinson’s Disease, has travel on his mind. Mention to him that you’re planning a trip for work or pleasure and he’ll quickly launch into a tale of visiting that area or somewhere in that general region.

At first, I assumed that my dad’s physical limitations sparked his desire to recapture visits to far-off destinations. What I’ve come to realize, though, is that his remembrances are about much more than geography. Recollections of each trip trigger fond memories of the man he was and what he was going through at the time.

Behavioral economist Daniel Kahneman differentiates between “the experiencing self” — the lives we live continuously that are composed of moments that are lost forever — and “the remembering self” — the memories that become the defining stories of our lives.

Vacations are treasure troves of memories. My two daughters are now grown, and while I like to think that I remember much about their growing up years, the day-to-day details have become a bit of a blur. Our family trips, inevitably colored by our girls’ moods, behavior and stages of development, I now see, function as markers in our lives — helping us track our journey.

A summer stay at Smuggler’s Notch in Vermont stands out because our then painfully shy 7-year-old shocked and amazed us by volunteering to stand up and sing You’ve Got a Friend at a karaoke event in front of a crowd full of strangers. It was one of the many times I witnessed the benefits of taking time away from our daily routines to be together as a family.

When our girls were in their early teens, a family excursion to London had an unexpected and welcome outcome. Our older daughter, who until then was totally uninterested in history, became a superb social studies student upon her return to the States. Seeing the Tower of London and costumed re-enactments made events described in her school texts come alive. It turned out to be a turning point in her education.

Aside from occasional family trips, my husband and I travel again as a twosome. Both of our daughters have inherited our passion for travel, an activity I now regard as a gift that keeps on giving. I can see it’s not just about the countless photos of places we’ve visited, the stamps on our passports, the lovely mementos. It’s really about creating mental snapshots of our lives.

Even the less-than-idyllic travel remembrances have become family lore — and amuse us in retrospect.

My dad worked as an accountant. I doubt he sees his behavior in banking terms, but I suppose one can say he amassed a wealth of memories while traveling and now retrieves them, providing him with comfort during his retirement.

As for me, I now realize that the price of travel needs to be amortized over, not just the days of planning and vacationing, but all my future years.

Recently, my neighbor down the street, a woman who is widowed and retired, told me she hasn’t gone on a trip in five years — since she was hospitalized in Salzburg after a fall. Older and alone, she feels too vulnerable to see the many sights she’d like to visit. “Go now!” she tells me.

1. https://www.forbes.com/sites/nextavenue/2017/01/10/why-i-no-longer-feel-guilty-about-taking-vacations/?sh=227ed24310c3

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angelamajiki · 3 years

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧

PAIRINGS: Yandere! Fatgum x Female! Sidekick! Reader

CW: noncon, voyeurism, bell bulge, size kink, praise kink, breeding, cunninglingus, bondage, dumbification

AN: This is a piece for Fern’s 1k Event! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ! Read the intro and first piece before reading this one! Ty <3 P.S. the italicized quotes are Nighteye’s and reader prior convo

Gluttony: The Second Circle of Dante’s Inferno

“What I like about gluttony,' a bishop I knew used to say, 'is that it doesn't hurt anyone else.'”

You hadn’t the faith to believe him when he said it.

It was hard to call the exchanges that occurred between the two of you a conversation. More or less, he spoke the truth of your reality and you simply didn’t have the gall to question it.

The elevator he thrust you into was cold and unnerving despite the cheesy jazz music that thankfully filled the void of silence you were sure would have deafened you if it prolonged itself. It gave you time to think on his words, more so than you would have liked to.

“The flesh endures the storms of the present alone; the mind, those of the past and future as well as the present. Gluttony is a lust of the mind. It is a poison that is all-consuming of the senses.”

Gluttony was the next trial, so it seemed. Lord knows what lies ahead for you, leaving you foolishly clutching to the notion that this circle couldn’t possibly be worse than the last.

The abrupt halt to the elevator allows the gravity of the situation to sink in fully. The inescapable horror was creeping in through the crack in the door, especially when it opened to find a man waiting for you.

And what a man he was, standing at nearly eight feet.

“Just the gal I was lookin’ for! I was worried my favorite lil sidekick had run off right after quitin’ time.”

An enormous, gloved hand clapped down on your shoulder, lingering far longer than you would have liked.

“Follow me to my office, yeah? I got something I wanna discuss with ya.”

And just like that, the string of fate slipped around your neck like a noose and pulled you along down the empty hallway, save for you, the man, and the numerous amounts of plaques, awards, and other celebratory memorabilia decorating the agency halls.

Judging by the pictures you saw yourself in, you were a hero of sorts, working alongside the unnamed man and two others you had yet to meet. Hopefully, your paths would never cross.

Even inside his office, you could see the remnants of what your life would be in this circle of hell. Whoever was with you seemed to be very fond of you, given the number of photographs and newspaper clippings adorning his desk and walls of the office.

“Y’know, I’ve been thinking about you a lot, and not just your fantastic work as a hero. Been thinking about what a fine woman you’ve grown to be.”

Those large hands found your shoulders again, stroking and rubbing to set you at ease in his grasp.

“Strong.”

One dipped down to your waist.

“Sweet.”

The other onto your arm.

“Everything a man like me needs. You sure fill my appetite in more than one way.”

Finally, the rest on your hips, thumbing circles into the soft flesh he took purchase in there.

Ah, so this was the glutton in question.

“I’m not sure I’m following what you mean.”

Just play dumb, maybe this circle will have mercy on you.

“Oh, don’t play coy with me, honey. There’s no reason to get all shy on me; I promise I don’t bite-”

His hand slid up to your neck, resting comfortably while enveloping the entirety of it with just his palm.

“Unless you ask for it.”

The whisper in his voice sent shivers down your spine, leaving you frozen in his grasp. It was undeniable that you would never beat him, no matter what your power may be in this world. Hell, if you even had one, how certain were you that you could use it?

Your options were far and few between, but laying down and taking it like some pathetic little bitch was not going to be an option for you. Not here, not now.

The shrill sound of your own voice even hurt your own ears as you cried for help, thrashing wildly in the grip of the man.

Your cries for help should have been chosen more carefully, seeing as when your two apparent saviors sped into the room, they opted to help the man pin you down even further.

“Damn, she’s being a feisty little thing-”

“Fatgum, let go of her neck! You’re gonna hurt her.”

“S-Should we really be doing this?”

And so you were left bound against the top of the desk, shrouded in a swarth of tentacles pinning your legs open and your hands above your head.

“Thank you, boys. Didn’t realize she would cause such a stir.”

So Fatgum was his name, or so it appeared to be an alias of some sorts.

“Fatgum, please-”

His smile was sickeningly sweet as he towered over you.

“Awe, no need for formalities with me, sugar plum. Just call me Tai, yeah?”

The two other men stood beside you, watching their boss closely as he dealt with you.

“Curiosity is gluttony. To see is to devour.”

Damn that cursed man for sending you down here in that goddamn elevator. This journey alone made it nearly impossible to keep this strength to see your mother again alive.

“Tai, please. I don’t-” His hearty laugh cut you off. “Begging already, sugar? By the fight you put up, I’d almost thought you didn’t want me anymore.”

“I don’t!” You protested, squirming in your slimy bonds before they tightened uncomfortably around you.

“Don’t yell at him like that. It's unbecoming of you.”

The raven-haired man snapped at you, looking down with a blush seared across his face and up to his ears.

“Relax, Tamaki. She just needs a reminder of who she belongs, ain’t that right? But, he’s right, I can't have you mouthing off like that, now can I?”

Slipping his black mask off his eyes, Tai fastened it around your mouth and head, loosely gagging you.

“Yeah, you belong to us!”

It was the redhead’s turn to pipe up before Tai shushed the pair of men.

“Now, now, I know you’re fond of our sweet little sidekick here, but this?”

He clapped a hand over still clothed pussy, rubbing gently.

“This here is mine; you boys can’t have this. But you’re more than welcome to stay and watch as I indulge myself.”

You whined into the gag, looking at him with teary eyes as he ripped a hole in your bottoms and panties.

“Hey, hey, hey. No need for tears, honeybun. You're safe with me, okay? I’m gonna take such good care of my little sweetheart, don’t you worry about a thing.”

His large fingers stroked over your clit slowly and tenderly, kissing your salty tears away as he shushed you with praise and loving words. Thumbing your clit, he pushed his middle fingers into you at a slow pace, grinning softly when you bit back a moan.

“Come on now, girl. We wanna hear how good I’m makin’ ya feel, ain’t that right, boys?”

Their collective groans of pleasure gave you all the response you needed; those sick fucks were getting off on you being harassed by your boss.

His finger sped up in pace, making you squeal once he curled his finger in an upwards motion. “Can’t wait to hear what you’ll sound like on my cock, sweet girl. Gonna sing us a nice song?”

Another finger slipped in as his free hand pawed at your tits, fondling and groping as he finger fucked you a new sense of vigor.

“As much as I don't want to hurt you, sweetheart, I’m just itching to get inside you and feel that pretty cunt around me. You understand, don’t you? I just can’t help myself when it comes to you.”

His lips continued to litter your skin in kisses to your face, licking at the tears that fell from your eyes when he added a third finger into your tight, wet hole.

“Mhm, you won’t mind if I have a taste, do ya?”

You could only whine in response.

“Of course you don’t, my good girl never says no to me.”

A hot mouth sealed itself around your clit as three fingers pumped in and out of you steadily, hitting all the right spots repeatedly. You squealed and shook in your binds, feeling your orgasm approaching hard and fast with the aid of his tongue lapping and suckling at you.

“Gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”

That was all you needed to feel yourself reach that blinding peak, sobbing and writhing as he rode out your ecstasy. His tongue continued to work at you far after you were finished, overestimating you without a care in the world. Your whines of protest fell on deaf ears as he just pulled your body closer to his face.

“Taste so good, sweetheart. I’ll stop when I’m finished with my meal, y’understand? This is my pussy, and I’ll do what I want with it.”

Leaving you twitching and sobbing, Tai finally pulled away and stood up, pulling his cock out and stroking it above you.

“Can’t wait to breed my pussy. Gonna make you my cute little cream puff.”

Both of his massive hands circled around you waist, pulling you flush against him as he sank all the way into your tight heat. The stretch of his girth was quite nearly unbearable as he pushed himself to the hilt inside of you, rubbing the small bulge in your belly with fondness while peering down at you.

“You feel so good, sweetheart. I knew you’d be so good for me. Yer takin’ me so well.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he slowly pulled out, leaving your legs twitching wildly when his thumb found its way back to your clit before he sank back in all the way. You could snark about how courteous it was of him to allow you to adjust, but the thread of consciousness was hard to grasp onto as he completely dominated your mind with numbing pleasure.

“You were made to take my cock, sweet thing. Let me give you a treat for bein’ so obedient for me.”

His praise went straight to your gut, as much as you hated to admit it, leaving you feeling pliable and soft under his demanding touch. Those hands around your waist pulled at your body, bringing you back and forth on his cock like you were a goddamn fleshlight.

“Ah, ” he grunted. “I don't think I can hold back much longer; you’ll let me be selfish, won’t ya?”

With that, all sense of tenderness and gentleness was thrown out the window as he picked you up from the desk, holding you against his chest as he jackhammered into you with an impossible pace of his hips.

“Shit! Squeezing me so tight, bein’ such a good little fucktoy for me.”

The sounds of skin slapping and the collective sounds of pleasure rang heavy in the room as he used and abused your throbbing pussy, feeling his grip on you tighten when he was reaching his own high.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum, gonna stuff my pussy nice and full!”

The bulge on your stomach grew even more as he came, stuffing you to the hilt with his cum and his cock. Ropes of it leaked out of your hole, even as he stayed inside you, panting and kissing at your sweaty forehead.

“Gave ‘em a good show, didn’t we, sweetheart? Say thank you, boys.”

Their thanks were mumbled out as they too had exhausted themselves just from the display of your pleasure. Tamaki’s tentacles retracted themselves from you, allowing you to stretch and return feeling to your arms and legs.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, sweetheart. We’re - hey, are you with me? I’m gonna clean you up and take you back home with me, okay? No more hero nonsense for you, ya hear me? All you need to do from now on is stay home and keep that pussy warm for me.”

Like hell you were going to stay for another damned second in this realm, not after being violated so horrifically.

“O-Okay.”

Play it cool, play it cool.

“Let me go to the bathroom, then.” You swallowed, hoping to fool the men. “A-And I’ll get my change of clothes and we can go home.”

You didn’t wait for a response, hobbling out of the office before making a break down the hall for the elevator. Their shouts echoed off the hallway walls as you ran with all your strength left back into the safety of the elevator, leaving them running after you before the door shut on them.

“Gluttony is a great fault; but we do not necessarily dislike a glutton. We only dislike the glutton when he becomes a gourmet-that is, we only dislike him when he not only wants the best for himself, but knows what is best for other people.”

— tagging: @sightoru @anarchicmartyr @natsuonii @whumperooni @viixens @lunar-nebula @trafalgar-temptress

#yandere fatgum x reader #yandere fatgum #fatgum x reader #fatgum #yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia

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astaroth1357 · 3 years

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Demigod MC Series: Athena

So. I have to deal with the virgin goddesses… By mythos, there really shouldn't ever be children of Artemis, Hestia, or Athena (yes, Athena was a virgin goddess). PJ got past that by making it canon that Annabeth and her siblings were born from cracking open Athena's skull (yes, that's also more or less the canon explanation). They gloss over it real quick but I remember, Rick. I've always remembered and that mental image has haunted me for years...

I can't, in good conscience, ignore the history around Athena's worship (call it an academic restraint) but I REFUSE to do the skull thing. So, since I make the rules here, I'm going with magic adoption. They still get magic powers, they're just more human than demigod. Cool? Cool.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena

Lucifer

The human that popped out of the portal seemed to have enough sense not to attack everyone in the room for a change, but even Lucifer could tell that was more of a strategic choice than for lack of ability...

Their very existence was highly unusual… and quite worrisome. He wasn't even aware Athena could have "children" of her own, but apparently she had been taking in some particularly bright humans to raise and train like her own...

Unbeknownst to him, a surprising amount of human scholars, diplomats, and generals have her to thank for their trade… and that alone should speak to the level of intrigue at play here.

Was this an accident or Athena's attempt to plant an Olympian spy in the Devildom too…? Either way, he didn't trust them from the get go…

Look, Lucifer isn’t stupid. Athena is a goddess of Wisdom and War and war happens on more than just the battlefield…

Since they've shown up records have been going missing, official documents keep getting misplaced, and he swears that there's some kind of bug in the student council room...!

It's infuriating watching the MC suck up to Diavolo when he's almost certain that they're running their own agenda behind the scenes! And he can't prove any of it!! They cover their tracks too well!

Lucifer has one of those corkboards covered in newspapers and string in a secret wing of the Castle - 100% dedicated to just tracking the MC's activities…. The longer they're there, the more obsessed he becomes...

He swears between Simeon, Solomon, and MC he feels like a shepherd wondering why the sheep are growling… The Devildom has never been in more danger than it is right now... Send help.

Mammon

To be honest, he kind of thought that they were just going to be Satan 2.0 but that's not really true.

They're more than just a book sponge! Though they do read, like a lot. Let’s just say from one schemer to another… Game recognizes Game.

They come up with plans and ideas soooo fast, it’s insane! Honestly, there are times where he has a new money-making plot and he just brings it to the MC first to run it over.

Nine times out of ten, not only do they sniff out any problems but they have a solution for him in a matter of minutes! His scheme game has been on point since they’ve shown up!!

They’re also even better tutoring than Satan is, so he’s even managed to get a couple A’s for the first time in his life! Lucifer actually told him he was proud (which he secretly recorded and now uses as a ringtone much to his brother’s regret...)

So yeah, he likes them... buuut that doesn’t keep him from thinking they act a little weird sometimes...

Mammon: *points to a unused tower close to the RAD building* Over there is the Tower of Sorrow. We use it for storage.

MC: Ah. Interesting… *starts writing in a notebook, muttering* It may need a few minor tweaks but the location is defensible...

Mammon: *stops* Ya say somethin’?

MC: *looks back up* Nope! Say, you’ve been to the Castle a lot haven’t you? Do you know any good ways in?

Mammon: Uhm… Why do ya want to know that…? *starts looking around for Lucifer*

MC: In case of emergencies. I like being prepared. 🙂

Mammon: Look, I don’t know what Lucifer might’a told ya…

MC: I’ll pay you a thousand Grimm for it.

Mammon: Well shit, ya want those maps with or without color?

... Yeeeah, that’s pretty weird… But it’s probably fine. I mean, as long as they keep giving him money, who’s he to complain? 🤷‍♀️

Leviathan

Also thought that they’d be a lot more like Satan but was pleasantly surprised that they were into more than books.

What else did they like exactly? Military strategy!!

It’s been a looong time since he’s been able to talk to someone who’s actually interested in all the battles he’s fought, both in the Celestial Realm and the Devildom, and their curiosity is kind of flattering...! Not a lot of people take his strategic prowess all that seriously anymore...

Plus, they are the BEST partner to have any turn-based strategy game. Hands down. He once got stuck on a level of D-COM for weeks until the MC walked in and mopped the floor with the AI!! They have a serious head for probability and tactics.

The House once made the mistake of letting these two be on the same team during a Hell Game and they absolutely demolished the competition. Mammon didn’t even get a single shot off before half his team was lost to a rigged paint grenade… It took a whole day to clean up…

However, Levi’s also noticed some odd things about the human… He likes that they’re interested in his past but maybe they’re a little… too interested?

Levi: -and that’s how we defeated the Four Horsemen before they escaped from Purgatory.

MC: Wow, Levi that’s seriously impressive!! *furiously scribbling on a notebook*

Levi: Well t-thanks… 😅 But, uhm... are you writing that down…?

MC: Hm? Oh no, just doodling. *they lift up the notebook to show a bunch of cute little sketches on the page… and not the magic-based invisible ink all over them…*

Levi: Oh you draw too? Can you do fanart???

MC: Eh, sometimes. But say Levi, can you tell me about your naval ranks again? I’m still really curious… *gets the pen ready again with a smile*

Satan

Oh, it's been a long game of cat-and-mouse between these two… and unfortunately, it’s been pretty addicting too.

He honestly had every intention of tricking the human into making a huge mess do he could bother Lucifer, but at every turn they proved just a hair too clever for him...

He once gave them a cursed book to “lend” to Lucifer, but they saw through it the moment they touched it and lifted the spell before handing it over.

He rigged a podium to spray glitter during one of Lucifer's speeches but the MC disconnected the trigger mic before he even got on stage. It was pretty dang frustrating...

At one point he got so desperate that, just as a test, he tried to trap them in the House's Music Room. Fortunately for them, it only took a few minutes to work out an escape. They even passed by him in the hallway with a wink!

It's confounding! It's infuriating!!

...and it's so damn sexy... He should be furious but he’s just in awe!!

Add on that they know their art, literature, and multiple different crafts thanks to the tutelage of their adopted mother and that’s it. He’s finished. This boy is in love.

Truthfully though, a part of him is 90% sure that they’re also gathering state secrets… Like, they’re watching Barbs and Diavolo far too close for comfort - but he just can't bring himself to care. 🤷‍♀️

The MC could walk into his room one day and say, "Hey, do you want to help overthrow the monarchy with me?" and he dreads it because deep down he knows that he wouldn’t say no…

Take some notes, kids. Some bad influences get you to drink or do drugs. Others pull you into a centuries long conspiracy to destabilize and topple rival realms from within… But he has fallen for their brain hard. Devil help them all…

Asmodeus

They’re pretty clever, he’ll give them that, but uh… Are they a little off to anybody else?

Asmo is a charmer by birthright so he has a bit of nose for when someone’s just a liiittttle too nice… Not much of a nose mind you, because he can be thrown off by compliments himself, but enough to think that the MC might be a little too… “kind” for their own good...

First off, who wants to spend that much time with Levi?? They don’t even seem that interested in anime! They just keeping asking him for old war stories…

Then all the sucking up they do to Diavolo and Barbatos? Look, he gets it. Diavolo is a delicious piece of man-hunk and his butler could give him a lesson or two in sweet-talk (and he has), but they seem to be just a little too… nosy.

Of course, Asmo’s suspicions disappear pretty quickly after they start to spoil him with spa nights and beauty secrets they picked up from “casual research” into the subject.

And you know, get a little Demonus in Asmo and start massaging his back? Oh, sweetie he’ll sing like a bird!! … with gossip. Singing with gossip.

Asmo: So I’ve heard that Lucifer has been spending more time at RAD than usual… His whole club is talking about it, they think he’s meeting with some witch!

MC: Hm, is that so? *works on a knot near his shoulder blades* What do you think?

Asmo: Ooh~! Right there, MC! *purrs and lays his head on his arms* Well come on, this is Lucifer we’re talking about! I’m sure he’s just working.

Asmo: Hmm... though come to think of it, I think I heard him asking Barbatos for the spare keys to the Tower of Sorrow…

MC: Oh really? Huh. *works out the knot and gets up* I just remembered that I left some papers with Satan... I’ll be right back.

Asmo: You’re going already??

MC: *waves him off quickly* I’ll be right back, Asmo. *hurries out the door to do totally on-the-up-and-up things… surely*

Beelzebub

Honestly he doesn't like this one… But not for the reasons you'd expect.

He agrees with everyone else that they seem a little shady, but Solomon and Simeon are too so it's not like that's anything new... 🤷‍♀️

No, no. He dislikes them because they're the person who FINALLY figured out how to keep him from eating all the food in the kitchen!!

Turns out that the trick was to put a teleportation charm on the fridge door that would send all the food away if it’s opened after a certain time of night…

And where does it go? The Purgatory Hall fridge. And where does the Purgatory Hall food go…? The HoL fridge…

It doesn’t sound so bad until you remember that it means half of their fridge is now Solomon’s leftovers…. 🤢

After they put the same kind of spell on the pantry, it was all over… He couldn't get midnight snacks from the House anymore… Everything was contaminated by Solomon…

The MC is a nice enough person, he doesn’t have a lot of complaints about them, but he wants them to leave. Now. This is inexcusable… He’s so hungry… and he doesn’t want to die by “goulash” or whatever Solomon calls his latest culinary catastrophe… He’s still too young for death… 😓

Belphegor

In a way, he absolutely could not have asked for a better person to help him get out of that attic.

… In another way, he got one of the worst possible people to try and kill... Like. They saw through his scheme sooo fast…

How was he supposed to know that the human had training in body language and sniffing out lies???

Getting the door open was a piece of cake for them. They knew enough magic to undo the seals and just rummaged around Lucifer's stuff long enough to find the key to the door. He could not have found a more competent individual for a break out, really.

It’s just… well he didn’t expect to go from locked in a room like a prisoner to tied up in enchanted rope, still like a prisoner but now mobile. 😑

They even used his own hug ruse against him! They caught his wrists when they got close and tied him up before he could shake them off...

Admittedly, it wasn't exactly the best look for them either - what with walking Belphegor downstairs to the others like a one-man-prison-caravan but they're as silver-tongued as they are sly so they talked their way out of it beautifully…

And like hell was he going to trust them after that!! And not even Beel liked them so something had to be up...

Well, you want a detective? Look no farther than Belphie (no seriously, it’s in the canon). He can put things together pretty fast when he puts his mind to it and watching the MC for a while gave him enough proof to work off of...

He always knew that, humans were bad news and the MC just proved it to him all over again. They are bad news, bad bad news and they’re going to-!

Overthrow… Diavolo…? Is that what he is getting from them…? Huh…

Wait a second, MC. You might just have him interested… 😏

#you say athena mc is smart #i say athena mc is spy #because where better to use your smarts #in war #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me demigods

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thepictureofsdr · 3 years

Text

actual friendly reminders

- alastairs entire life has been painful. but he hasnt given up hope.

- he still sees the best in everyone and gives the benefit of the doubt

- he does things for people just because he can, and he still has so much love in his heart

- he hasnt become bitter. in a world where everyone has done the best they can to tear him down, underneath all that self hatred he’s just become more determined to be kind, to move forward, to do better

- he’s completely devoted to breaking the abuse cycle and giving his sibling the best childhood he can give. none of that “i suffered so they must suffer”

- he still believes in love. sure, maybe he doesnt believe it can happen to him, but he hasnt let the cynism of his loveless world touch him

- he never wanted to hurt anyone. he is kind through and through

- he spent years destroying his life to protect his family, but he doesnt resent them for it. he loves them so much.

- he has never been cruel without reason. he likes to make people happy

- hes really good at reading people, and uses that to empathize and help them

- he loves art. paintings, music, sculptures, movies, books, he loves it all

- he collects daggers and adores their beauty

- he has lots of opinions and loves to have deep discussions about anything and everything. he will always be respectful of the other person’s opinions

- he sees the beauty in everything. he loves the bizarreness of the eiffel tower and knew it would be appreciated one day

- he looked satisfied when thomas said he didnt think the tower was ugly

- he loves to share what he loves and becomes slightly childishly giddy at being able to do it

- hes a nerd. he reads the mundane newspaper. he sings. he plays the piano. he brings a book with him everywhere. he’s interested in true crime.

- he is slowly becoming more and more comfortable with his showing his culture and speaking his language in public

- he is loyal to a fault. you gain his trust, you have him for life.

- HE. IS. ATTRACTIVE. half the characters in this series hate him and not once has he himself been anything but complimented thats true power baby

- he dyed his hair back to black. he’s moving on, he’s healing

- he randomly invited an old acquaintance to a museum after having spoken for barely a few seconds.

- he was grumpy at the crowds in paris but never took it out on thomas.

- the most content thomas has ever seen alastair is when he is standing looking at a painting, letting it wash over him

- (this will eventually change in a few years when thomas snatches a glance at alastair staring at him rather than a painting. “i literally called you michaelangelo’s david when we were locked up do you seriously think i wouldnt rather look at you all day?” thomas is a mess for the next few minutes)

- he loves hedgehogs :)

- when he’s lying he can’t look someone in the eye. you can tell he’s startled and staggered when he goes very still and blinks slowly for a few seconds

- one day he will look back at thomas

- thomas showed his tattoo the second alastair asked

- alastair was the only person thomas told about planning to get a tattoo. when alastair touched his arm he was shivering and stunned and hot all over.

- thomas would only want one person, and he’s wanted a specific person since he was a school boy

- thomas having enough faith in christopher to have confidence in himself making the antidote was the first time alastair realized friendship makes you more than you are.

- alastair loves blackberries

- he goes on long walks to clear his head

- he would always nag cordelia to practice how to fall safely

- he taught cordelia a lot of what she knows today

- thomas seems to rub his tattoo in stressful situations, as though the thought of alastair alone calms him and brings him comfort

- alastair always understood the true reasons thomas was going on solo patrols when not even thomas’s closest friends and family had been able to guess at them; and thomas doesnt think alastair believes the rude things he says and unconciously picked up alastairs self punishing and protection habit of pushing everyone away

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ray-ray-writings · 3 years

Text

Seeing Red-Technoblade

This is a Techno x gn!reader in the dreamsmp! I hope you enjoy!

Check out my masterlist here!

This is extremely different from what happens in cannon lol.

TW: Fighting and descriptions of blood and gore. Techno literally slices up four people. There is nothing too NSFW but Techno and Y/N do take a shower together, but nothing really sexual happens, it’s just a shower shared by two peeps that love each other.

When Y/N gets kidnapped by the Butcher Army to lure their boyfriend to L’Manberg, Technoblade sees red and is willing to do anything to get them back… Anything.

Techno’s POV

It was quiet around the house… Too quiet. Normally, I would always be able to hear Y/N moving around or singing randomly, but there was nothing. “Y/N?” I called out, hoping to get some form of response from them. Silence. “Love?” I tried once more, moving around hoping to find them. Nothing.

A pounding on my front door startled me out of my focus. Maybe that was them! Why would they be knocking though, they live here… I swung the door open and was greeted with the sight of my father, who seemed to be out of breath, on my front step. “Dadza?” I questioned in confusion, “What are you doing here?” “They have them,” He breathed. I felt my blood run cold and my heart stop at his words. “What?” “They have them… The Butcher Army has Y/N,” He rushed out, taking a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “They gave me this note to give to you.” I snatched the piece of paper from my fathers hands and quickly scanned the words scrawled on the parchment.

“Technoblade, something of yours seems to have fallen into our possession. If you want them back safely, we suggest you come to L’Manberg and turn yourself into us. If you follow our orders, no harm will come to Y/N. But if you refuse, there will be hell to pay and your partner will take the full front of it. Signed, The Butcher Army.”

I felt my blood boil at the words written on the piece of paper. How dare they? How dare they threaten my Y/N? Coming after me is one thing. But going for my innocent partner, that’s crossing a line. “Stay here,” I barked at my father before storming out of the house. Luckily, I had all of my OP armor and weapons on me considering I was in the nether doing… things… Doesn’t matter. Point is, I quickly saddled up my trusty horse Carl and immediately began galloping off to L’Manberg.

Carl seemed to sense my urgancing because the trip took half the amount of time that it normally does. Once I was in the vicinity, I hopped off of Carl and tied him up just far enough away so that no one would be able to see him. I rushed up the Prime Path to the center of L’Manberg and was sick to my stomach at what I found. Y/N, my Y/N was trapped in a small cage with a tall tower built next to it, an anvil looming over the cage. Rage filled every inch of my body as their bloodshot eyes met mine.

“Techno!” I heard them whisper in relief. “Technoblade!” I heard another voice call. I turned slowly and found Tubbo, Ranboo, Fundy, and Quackity standing in the ‘area’ as well dressed in bloody aprons, sick smiles on their faces. “I knew you would make the right choice” Tubbo claimed, everyone taking a few steps forward. “I’m here. Let Y/N go.” I hissed, my teeth clenched tightly. “Oh we will. But only after you comply, get in the cage.” Quackity demanded, motioning to the second cage next to Y/N. “That wasn’t the deal. That wasn’t what was in your note.” “Well we’ve changed our minds.”

All of the rage that had built up in my body finally overpowered me. I quickly reeled my fist back and punched the nearest person near me, which just so happened to be Fundy. He reeled back due to the force of the punch. For a moment, the other three froze but then immediately snapped into action. I pulled out my shield and my axe as they charged forward at me. I easily blocked their attacks while dealing out my own damage. I moved with ease, taking very little damage as my axe and sword seemed to slice through the four boys with ease, their dark red blood coating my weapons.

One by one they all fell at my hand, each of the death notifications popped up on my right arm. I stood there, taking deep breaths as I calmed myself down from what had just happened. “Techno!” my partner’s voice called out from behind me. My head snapped over to the cage and I sprinted over to it. Taking one swing with my pickaxe, the iron bars broke and Y/N was released from their prison. I hesitated before hugging them, not sure if they were willing to hug me while I was covered in blood. Y/N had no hesitations, immediately after the bars broke their arms were wrapped around me and they were crying in my chest. My arms wrapped around them, hugging them tightly to my chest and pressing a kiss to the top of their head.

“Let’s go home,” I murmured into their hair. I felt them nod under my head. I pulled away from them and grabbed their hand and led them to where I left Carl. I helped them get on the horse before I hopped on behind them. I wrapped my arms around them and grabbed the reins. Y/N leaned back into my chest and I moved so that my head rested on their shoulder. I gave Carl a soft kick before he began to trot back towards our home.

Carl knew where to go once our house came into view. Once in the stable, I pulled myself from Y/N to get off my beloved horse before helping Y/N off as well. I quickly desaddled Carl before giving him a few pats and a golden carrot. I grabbed Y/N’s hand and led them into the house.

“Oh god! I’m so glad you’re alright! What happened to you guys?” My father questioned as soon as we walked in the house. I let out a small growl in frustration. I love my father but right now I just wanted to spend time with my partner. “I’ll explain later Dadza. Can you just leave us alone right now?” I tried to ask politely, but it probably came out a little more rude than I meant it to. Phil seemed to understand though because he only gave me a soft smile before nodding. He quickly made his way to our front door, “I’ll be over tomorrow then?” He questioned. “Sounds good dad. I’ll see you then.” I responded shortly. “Bye Philza” Y/N murmured with a small wave. Philza gave them another soft smile, waving back, “Bye Y/N. I’ll see you two tomorrow.” And he was gone.

“Let’s go get cleaned up, yeah?” I offered to Y/N softly. They simply nodded with a small smile. I led them to the bathroom and turned on the shower. I helped them undress before unrobing myself as well. Together, the two of us got in the warm water. The deep crimson began running off of our bodies and down the drain. I helped Y/N wash their hair and in return they helped me wash mine. We helped each other wash our bodies as well, making sure to get all of the dried blood off of our red stained skin. As I washed, I wrapped my arms around their middle and just held them tightly to my chest. Their arms snaked up and wrapped around my neck, one of their hands resting gently in my pink hair and they began to play with it softly.

We stood there together for quite a while, just enjoying the warm water as it washed over our bodies. As the dirt and grime fell from our bodies, the rage and the tension fell from my body inside. Y/N seemed to always have this effect on me. Whenever I could feel myself growing angry and the voices in my head scream for blood, Y/N simply has to look at me and the voices fall silent. They’re my eye of the hurricane.

A chill ran up my back as I noticed the water had finally gone cold. Pulling away from Y/N, I quickly turned off the water and got out of the shower, offering my hand to my partner and helping them out as well. I pulled a couple towels out of our cabinet before slowly and gently dragging the towel over Y/N’s body, drying them off. I finished drying their body and quickly dried mine as well.

We moved to our bedroom to get clothes. Y/N moved to go to their dresser, but my hand found their wrist causing them to stop. “No. Here.” I uttered walking to my own dresser and pulling out some of my more comfortable clothes. Y/N had no objections. They took the clothes and quickly dressed. After getting dressed myself, I turned and was awestruck at the sight. Obviously I’m bigger than Y/N and so my clothes are a lot bigger as well. The sight of my partner draped in my clothes caused my heart to hammer in my chest.

“You are the most beautiful sight anyone could ever lay their eyes upon,” I murmured, staring deeply at Y/N. They turned and met my eyes, their cheeks blushed a bright red at my compliments. “You’re too sweet,” they squeaked, trying to turn away and hide their face. I took a few steps forward before reaching forward and cupping their cheek, turning their head to face me. “No need to hide from me darling. I know you better than anyone has known you. I love you so much,” I hummed, staring in their eyes. Their cheeks seemed to burn brighter but they nuzzled their cheek into my palm, “I love you too… Can we go to sleep now?” I let out a small chuckle, “Of course we can love.”

Together we crawled into bed. I opened my arms and Y/N immediately crawled into my arms, snuggling their face into my chest. I pulled them as close to my body as I could. I heard Y/N let out a content sigh as we laid there. “I’m so sorry that happened today, love.” I spoke, breaking the silence. I felt their shoulders rise and fall as they shrugged, “It happens. I wasn’t too worried. I know you’ll always be there to save me.” Y/N mumbled sleepily in my chest. I tilted my head down and pressed a sweet kiss to the top of their head. “That I will, love. That I will.”

I never know how to end things lol. I hope you enjoyed! If you did please be sure to leave a like!

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mandareeboo · 3 years

Text

SU Music Rankings

Bc I can and I wanna start some Disk Horse rip. These are all in order of preference, with explanations, etc. It’s a long bitch. That said, I’m not counting little short jingles or small joke songs like Little Butler. This is the meat and potatoes of SU music- just under 30 songs. I might do the rest if people like my takes lol.

I scored it mostly on three bases- how dear it was to my heart, how much/often I relisten to it, and also what it means to the plot. That said, little fun songs don’t automatically go farther down than big, plot-heavy songs either! It’s a strange little balance.

Special Note: I don’t dislike any of this music! I love SU and that includes its bumps and glitches. I just pick favorite children lol.

1.) Change

Was there ever a more Steven moment than when he wiped the blood off his face and kissed it into sparkles? I think not.

If “Be Wherever You Are” is an ode to young Steven, then this is teen Steven’s. Talking about change, and how much and how little it can do. How he holds his arms up for Spinel to hug him, so trusting. How he seems able to just. Break into soft tears at will, and not to be manipulative- it’s just his kind nature. The warmth in his voice. Fuck yesssss.

2.) Change Your Mind

This song is only fifty five seconds and it’s EVERYTHING to me. It really felt like someone was speaking the words I’d always held deep inside of me, unsure of how to say. It feels like a goodbye to someone who never really loved me.

As much as I enjoyed Future, if this was the finale of SU, I would’ve been perfectly okay with that.

3.) Drift Away

This song gave me legitimate shivers the first time I heard it, and it still haunts me to this day. Spinel stayed, and waited, and all she got was a transmission thousands of years later. Fuck.

4.) Here We Are In The Future

THE MOVIE IS SU AS ITS BEST AND I WON’T BE SWAYED ON IT. Steven being a teen who loves his weird family but is growing just a bit sarcastic to their drama. The adorable love he and Connie share. His slow realization that he will always be working, always have things to do, is both somber and real. The Crystal Gems won’t be safe with one epic battle. They’ll be safe with years of hard work and love. HIS LITTLE HANDSHAKE WITH AMETHYST.

This is a helluva bop and a great way to summarize the main character’s backstories.

5.) Let’s Only Think About Love

Did ya’ll know that Zach Callison killed his throat with that last note? He gave his all for this performance in a vocal range he no longer comfortably do and by god did it SHINE. The FLAIR. The FORESHADOWING. All of the Gems all being awkward about Rose and Steven trying to bring them to the present. Peridot having a mini-existential crisis in a cute yellow dress. I love Zach Callison’s normal singing voice but man is that a fucking bop. Nothing will ever beat it.

6.) Here Comes A Thought

This bad boy helped me out a LOT with some mental issues I was dealing with in high school. I was unmedicated, unsupervised, and full of anxiety. I’d have break downs when I tried to speak about certain things. I couldn’t function. This song inspired me. It helped me feel okay with my intrusive thoughts.

And the episode! -chef’s kiss-. Once again bringing up the morally gray area of training child soldiers. Connie expanding her social group. Steven’s trauma hauling ass in that second half. The ANIMATION. Stevonnie’s gorgeous singing voice. GOD yes.

7.) It’s Over Isn’t It?

Just barely squeaking above Stronger Than You, this ballad is everything gorgeous. The whole episode is. I think Mr. Greg stands in the top five of my episodes for the entire show. It even got nominated!

There’s just so much about this song that I love. The gentle melancholy of Pearl’s voice. How the crew had to redo the shots for this bit bc Deedee went so fucking hard. The hard cuts between Pearl, remembering the love of her life, and Steven, who has begun to feel like he took her away. I’d recommend this song to anyone, regardless of what they do or don’t know about SU, simply bc it tugs so many heartstrings of love, loss, and responsibility.

8.) Stronger Than You

Did you realize this episode aired SEVEN years ago? This bitch was what got me into SU! Hearing about Ruby and Sapphire made my little gay heart so happy inside, and then getting a whole song confirming that they were a couple, that their love powered the strongest Gem on the team? Aaaaaaaaa

To this DAY I get excited when I hear Estelle start singing. This song is timeless. This song will live in media history. God I fucking love this song.

9.) Other Friends

I’m not the biggest musical person, so I hadn’t heard of Sarah Stiles before her casting as Spinel, but JESUS CHRIST the lady went hard. She went SO fucking hard. Sarah Stiles started on 100 and somehow just kept CLIMBING. You can just hear the sheer manic energy building in her voice, the anger and resentment. 10/10 Sarah Stiles is a queen.

10.) Independent Together

This made the list entirely bc the crew was like “you’re gonna get a himbo ass Steven-Greg fusion singing with Opal while Garnet flies across the moon on Lion while floating” and I am forever thankful to them for it

11.) Who We Are

Bismuth deserved more songs. ‘Nuff said.

12.) Peace and Love (On the Planet Earth)

It Could’ve been Great is EASILY one of my favorite s2 episodes. I love the entire concept of this song. Of Steven making music to reflect how much Earth means to him and his family. Of him teaching Peridot some self-care. Also Peridot’s singing voice is really cute and squeaky.

I know it’s silly, but I would’ve really enjoyed a flip around of this in Future! Like Peridot reminding Steven how much he loves music, that he needs to take time to relax for himself, maybe with a new verse or just a remix of the original song!

13.) Something Entirely New

I watched this episode as it aired, and I legitimately almost cried. I love Charlyne Yi’s voice so much ya’ll- her raspy, not perfect singing voice against Sapphire’s deep soothing lull is great.

And to have Ruby and Sapphire’s meeting be the way it was- for Ruby to bemoan Sapphire losing Homeworld, to being stuck with a single Ruby, while Sapphire is a noble who has always been taught everyone in her “caste” is vitally important (and has, in her own mind, taken that to mean every Gem, as she should) and how they come together and make each other happy. Good shit good shit.

14.) I’m Just a Comet

The fact that Greg’s music career never really blasted off pisses me off to this day bc Tom Scharpling’s voice is fucking BUTTER. Also the song really feels like a jab at his parents now that we know the kind of dynamic he had growing up. “This life in the stars if all I’ve ever known” is definitely him wiping away their existence after reminding them (and himself) the things they used to say about him.

15.) Do It For Her

This episode. This fucking episode. This episode got me permanently hooked on SU. I’d just binged season 1 and was kinda meh about it overall after the bop of Stronger Than You. “Oh,” I thought to myself, foolishly, “I’ll probably just casually watch this from time to time.”

Like three days later Sworn to the Sword aired and that was it. I was hooked! Pearl’s gentle training song turning darker and darker, Connie’s accompaniment from nervous to determined to fully into such a toxic mindset. The fact that SU had the BALLS to discuss the repercussions of training child soldiers, now and later. This episode was everything to me, STILL is everything to me.

Six years and well over 100 fanfics written later, I think it’s safe to say this show swallowed me whole and never let go.

16.) System/Boot.pearl_final(3)

I debated putting this on the list because it’s not anything crazy important, just a way to show things are Wrong, but I had to do it entirely bc Pearl is so damn SALTY.

Like telling us about the Gems makes sense, she felt like she was given a duty, but she went so damn petty. WHY is that Ruby alone. Gross. This Amethyst is a trash dump. Wtf are you people.

17.) Full Disclosure

This episode really feels like a turning point for SU. Before, the show had its dark moments- but now we’re in the thick of it, and it’s not going away. Full Disclosure felt like an rebuff to the idea of returning to any normal we’d established in season 1. Gems are actually a giant species now. Gems tried to kill us now. There’s this Yellow Diamond bitch who got namedropped. Something about a Cluster.

The song itself is BALLER, with its ingenious use of Steven’s ringtone and photos as he tries to decide whether to clue in Connie on all this nonsense. Meanwhile we, the audience, already know damn well Connie about to yeet some common sense into him.

18.) What’s the Use of Feeling Blue?

I’mma admit it- I’m a Yellow Diamond stan. I’ve always loved her- her anger, her poise, her hardworking nature. I actively argued against the “Yellow Shattered Pink” theories back in the day. But, man, when this arc leaked? I got so overexcited I was too jittery to watch it for like two days. It’s easily my favorite arc of the series. The sheer alien nature of the zoo, the Famethyst, and absolutely Patti Lupone’s beautiful ballad. Goddamn. Yellow singing to Blue to try and help her regain her old status, the warble in her voice as she reminds Blue she misses Pink too, the movement of the bubbles as she talks about attack. It gives me shivers to this day. FUCK.

19.) Tower of Mistakes

This is, fun fact, that only SU song I have completely memorized. The story itself is kinda funny! See, we lost internet at my house for a solid 5 to 6 months when these episodes aired, so I only got a very brief window to view them all. But this was the first Amethyst song in a long while, and I didn’t want to forget it! So I keep replaying it in my head for ages. And that’s still definitely a thing.

Anyway will never not be sad that this entire song was about making it up to Garnet for Amethyst’s perceived slights with Sugilite (which was a two-way road), only for Garnet to pressure her into fusion later when pissed and never discuss it again bc Garnet probably never thought twice about it and Amethyst has the emotional openness of a clam that’s just been told its ugly. Helluva way to make someone feel like shit, G. Helluva way to bottle that shit, Ames.

20.) On the Run

I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times: Amethyst! Needed! More! Songs!

The dichotomy between Steven’s play and Amethyst’s honest desire to run away from home is so well-done, especially when you consider a lot of Steven and Amethyst’s actions are playing together. The song is also near and dear to me simply bc it’s my favorite Amethyst episode to exist (well, maybe second to What’s Your Problem, but not by much). Moments like these are all the proof I need that they were right to fuse first.

21.) Be Wherever You Are

This tune really just feels like an ode to who Steven was as a kid. Trapped on an island with no way home, and he’s just happy to be with his friends. The stars are beautiful and not oppressive. Also that one animatic with Lars and the Off Colors playing in the Homeworld Kindergarten to this music was iconic and made this song get stuck in my head for a solid month.

22.) Familiar

I ADORE how the crew use bright neon colors to show how alien Homeworld can be. And Steven recognizing that the Diamonds treat him how the CGs used to, and how prepared he is to “fix” a broken family. It’s a soft, gentle tune about melancholy. Also the Pebbles are beautiful.

23.) Let Me Drive My Van Into Your Heart

Such a cute little love ballad, but every time I listen to it now I just imagine the heart attack Rose must’ve had at the line “And if we look out of place/Well, baby, that's okay/I'll drive us into outer space.” like there’s a Vietnam war flashback if I ever heard one

24.) What Can I Do?

I’m kind of neutral on this one? Rose and Greg both have great voices, but the song itself lacks many lyrics. I think it was definitely a good way to show Rose’s flaws in thinking.

Also, I’m shocked they managed cram that much vaguely sexual innuendo into two minutes, followed by how Not Hetereo that dance between Rose and Pearl was, and not get their asses chewed by it. You go guys.

25.) Cookie Cat

I love a lot of the vibes this song has. The lyrics are so damn prophetic, but they also sound like the kind of weird 90s commercials I grew up on. It’s been like two decades since I saw the Shirley Temple commercial but I’ll be damned if I don’t remember “Animals crackers in my soup! Monkey and rabbits loop-de-loop.”

26.) Giant Woman

I am. NOT the biggest fan of Steven’s original singing voice. I feel bad saying that, since it was just Zach Callison as a kid, but he never jived well with me for some reason. So I wouldn’t listen to this on the fly.

The song itself is still really good though, with all sorts of fun animation of Amethyst and Pearl being bitchy to each other. It’s a bit sad in hindsight to see tiny Steven trying to get his moms to get along. Ahh, season 1.

27.) Strong in the Real Way

This song has SUCH a strong start. Pearl reflecting on Sugilite’s problems, but the show making sure to show us that Pearl’s lack of enthusiasm towards her also lends itself to jealousy as well as just general malaise. How much she cares about Steven, and wants him to grow up strong.

And then Steven just kinda. Ruins it? I appreciate his enthusiasm for tryna bulk up but to take what was starting as such a rich, personal song and broadcasting it to random strangers just makes me a bit sad. Almost a bit angry on her behalf?

28.) That Distant Shore

I KNOW this is gonna create some discourse, but I’m just not the biggest Lapis stan. I love her voice. I love the visuals of the song. And I get why she felt afraid and needed to flee.

But Lapis never got to take responsibility for her own actions. And, in the end, the song feels hollow to me- because we all know she’ll never talk to anyone about it, know she’ll burst back in and destroy the barn, and no one will ever question it. I like Lapis a lot, but I feel like her arc never was fully finished. She never got help. She never learned to feel safe.

29.) Dear Old Dad

I’ve yet to meet a single human being who likes this episode tbh. There’s some great discussion about what kind of parent Greg is from it, and what kind of dynamic he has with the Gems that he felt he had to fake an injury to hang out with his son. Honestly the first half was fine and dandy. It’s just that then they Greg just went out of his way to drag Steven away from missions and such. It never jived well with his character before or after.

Also, is it just me, or does Zach himself sound like he hates the song as he sings it? There’s no passion or heart in his voice. It sounds like they told him to read off cue cards and he did. Tom Scharpling’s best attempts didn’t save this one for being a skipper. But the episode, unfortunately, isn’t, so it gets a spot on here.

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misselko · 3 years

Text

LIONESS

Warnings: Angst, fluff, small violence

Words: 20.130

“Begin.”

Loud clashing of lances can be heard through Garreg Mach hallway.

The red-haired skirt chaser barely able to hear you said it when you rushed him. Sylvain knew that he should focus on his strikes. He didn’t have time to be impressed at this small, petite girl that is jabbing her lance so fast against him. Devastatingly fast. And strikingly strong. ‘It is such a wonder how a small, petite body like hers held so much power’. That’s the last thing that passed his mind before (Y/N)’s lance has cracked so loudly against his that he thought it might snap. Beautiful, fierce, deadly (E/C) orbs that staring into his soul has captivated the Gautier heir and got him hard knock on his shin, felling him over.

“Whoa there! I yield. You do like it rough, don’t you, (Y/N)?” Sylvain raise his hands on the air with and winks seductively. Rolling your eyes, you put a light tap on his neck at his remarks.

“Though she be but little, she is fierce. (Y/N) is the youngest among us, but she is indeed a Lioness!” Dimitri claps over your third in a row winning for today. You beat Felix in sword and Dimitri in the lance spar.

“That’s what you get for skipping classes, Sylvain. And.. keep up with your solid techniques, excellent moves, and rapid quick footwork, (Y/N). That’s all for our combat class today,” said Professor.

“She’s a few inch shorter than me but she had effortlessly defeated Blue Lions’ strongest lancer and swordsman! That’s my favourite lil sis (Y/N) for you!! ” said Annette giddily. She hugs you in a death grip embrace and sings her silly song.

Everyone are so nice to you, to the point of spoiled rotten! Especially Ingrid and Mercie! They are like your big sisters, always offering their help to ride pegasi and give endless supplies of baked sweets that you love very much. Felix is kinda harsh and always eager to spar with you, but he’s the first person to get angry when someone bullies you because you are so small. So kind, almost feel like a big brother! Dimitri helps you with your late night studies and picking books in the higher shelves on the library a lot. Dedue and Ashe cook dinner together with you on your duty day.

They see (Y/N) as the sweet smol bean that has to be protected at all cost!

“Are you free tonight, Munchkin?” Care to join me to visit the town and get something to eat? I know this little restaurant that has nice dessert! My treat, of course! Think of it as a token of congratulations from me on your brilliance today!” Sylvain put his hand on your shoulder in a friendly gesture and wink seductively.

“Seteth will scold us for sure, Syl! This is the fourth or fifth time we went for a late dinner this week,” you pout at his invitation. “He won’t. I’ll walk you back before curfew as usual. Don’t want my Kitten to get hurt on her way back. Night walk can be dangerous, you know.”

“Why you are being so nice to me, Syl... Your girls will be upset and kill me for sure.”

“Nah.. I don’t have any! It would be a shame to waste such a beautiful evening alone. Besides, I don’t want to let my Munchkin starved in her sleep! Not to mention that you just looked awfully cute with your cheeks stuffed.” You smacked his shin and rewarded with a loud yelp from him. “Lead the way. And.. it’s not like I like it or something like that, you know! Don’t get any wrong ideas,” you hide your blush and took his huge hand in your tiny ones.

The food was delightful as usual and Sylvain stay true to his words about going back before the curfew.

As you both closed the large door’s that marked the dormitory, you were greeted by the crisp spring night. Warm wind passed over your forms, and crickets chirped in the night.

“While we’re at it, how about a little board games rematch at my quarters? I got a new strategy to show you, Syl!”

“Bring it on then, (Y/N)! Let’s bring some sweet buns as usual to snack on later as well, then.”

“It’s a deal!”

“I’d think playing it on the bed would be more comfortable than doing it on the floor. You might catch another cold and passed out like last month in my room. It scared the living daylights out of me! Nope, never trying that again.”

“It’s not fun being frail and get sick easily.” You sigh.

“No problem. Think of it as a good chance for me to get to carry you around in my arms. For our weddi-- Ouch!!” he faux a sad face melodramatically when you punch his hand away playfully. “You might be small and petite but these hands are a force to be reckoned with. You’re as strong as a lioness,” said the philanderer as he ruffled your hair affectionately.

It was such a beautiful night.

---

“Do you have a moment, Miss (Y/N)? I have something important to tell you regarding my research and your Crest. We can discuss it in more detailed manner in my research room,” Professor Hanneman ask you out of the blue after the afternoon battle strategy class.

“Crest? But I’m sure I don’t have any, Professor! It’s stated as clear as a day in my enrollment documents, isn’t it?”

“There’s a mistake, Miss (Y/N). And I sworn it on my name as the Father of Crestology, you do HAVE a Crest. A Major one at that! Congratulations! I have sent a letter to your family and inform other Professors and your House Leader regarding this matter. I have my suspicion about your Crests since I watch your prowess at combat and when it activates, the timing, and the flash of....”

You are a bit shocked about this and decided to ignore this fact, having a hard time to process this shocking information. Your family and other members of Blue Lions will be very surprised of this information. Is it going to be a good thing or not? Professor Hanneman’s murmurs fell on your deaf ears as you politely excuse yourself out of his room. ‘It’ll be better to keep this as a secret to avoid unwanted attention nor unnecessary commotion’ you think to yourself.

---

Moons have passed. Then the night of the ball came. Urged by your curiosity, you are eager to wait for your true love at the Goddess Tower. You were hardly expecting to see Sylvain, of all people. The surprise at seeing each other was mutual. The both of you stood there for a moment, simply enjoying the scene before you. You wrapped your arms around yourself to stave off the chill that went down your spine, shuffling closer to the older man.

“Do you even believe the rumors about this place?” he asked as he lay his uniform coat over your shivering form. “My curiosity gets the best of me. But am glad to find you here, Syl.”

“Huh.” Sylvain went quiet, his face etched with contemplation. After he thought about it a little, he let out a huff of breath and frowned.

“Well, the person I’m interested in... is already here. You’re here alone. I’m here alone. I was thinking maybe....”

“Wait. Me?”

“Well, of course! We’re the only two people here, aren’t we? I keep thinking about it, and it just makes sense. My Crest and yours...”

“How did you...?”

“Dimitri told me. I have confirmed it with Professor Hanneman as well. A Major one, he said. So lucky.”

He looked down at you menacingly. Your eyes were averted away from his, looking away into the distance. “What do you mean? I’m still me, Syl. Crest or no Crest.”

Despite your dismissive answer, something changed in his expression. He took his hands from behind his neck and stalked towards you. This wasn’t at all like the kind and flirty Sylvain you loved. He’s... different.

“You know what? I’m a bit jealous. The whole time you were growing up, you never knew you had a Crest. You were free. Nobody pretended to like you. I kind of hate you for that...” he slammed you hard against the wall behind you. Strangled pained noise came from you.

His knees rest on either side of your petite body and his arms cage your head, his much bigger hand grasp yours roughly. “All you’re worth to me is a little bit of fun. We’ve been having fun, haven’t we? I thought that you understood,” Sylvain’s face a mere inch from yours, glaring daggers at you. You can feel your tears begin welling, threatening to spill at his words.

“Is that really what you think of me? I thought... I was different. So… our friendship has just been for nothing?” you muttered quietly, holding back your sobs.

He scoffed. “Of course you are. You’re just some dumb noble looking for crest babies. You never meant anything to me.” His rejection was validation of your worst fear, that you were just like every other girl. Your friendship had all fallen apart and meant nothing for him.

“Playing around with girls is the most fun a guy can have. Besides, I don’t care what you think of me. I don’t intend to change how I live my life. I’m a good-for-nothing, if you haven’t noticed, but I’m still a noble with a Crest. That’s all anyone cares about. It’s best to avoid getting too serious with fools like me.” His expression darkens and unreadable. The carefree mask was long gone.

“My Crest bring me nothing but pain. I thought maybe...if I made someone else suffer, it might help me feel better.” His hand shot up and grabbed you by your throat. Sylvain held you in front of him, tightened his grip, choking you hard. His caramel eyes glowed dark with excitement.

“Unnnghhh......Syl....”

You tried to squirm away but he clamped his hand tighter, making it harder for you to breathe. Your legs felt weak and limp. The pain was too intense.

“You were a spoiled brat who should pay for that Crest. Maybe I’ll collect the debt.” His expression dark as he looked up at you.

Focusing yourself, you punch his jaw as hard as you can. To your surprise, a blinding flash of your Crest shows up when you smack him as hard as you can, making Sylvain flinch in pain, dropping you with a loud thud on the cold floor. You stumbled back and dropped to your knees. Gasping for air, you tried to rub the pain from your throat, doing your best to pick yourself up.

“Sylvain Jose Gautier! I care not for your Crest nor title! It means nothing to me. I like.. no, love you because you are the strongest, kindest, funniest, and the most caring person that I know. Even you are such a skirt chaser, but you always very considerate and protective of me. I never felt this way before about someone. This is my first time but... This… This was a mistake. Sorry. I hope.. you find your own happiness someday,” you said, your voice is raspy from his deadly grip and your sadness. Tears were finally flowing freely from you.

Sylvain’s posture becoming rigid despite his feigned relaxed position. “H-hey,” Sylvain said, his voice softened somewhat. “Please, don’t cry. I’m sorry...”, he tried to pat your head, but you step back instinctively. The red head flinch and turned away when he saw angry purplish hue on your neck. Guilt began creeping on his conscience.

“I believe you. You’re not a bad person, Sylvain, no matter what anyone says. I care about you. Our friendship, dinners, late nights walk and banters... I cherished them a lot. Really, I do. I love you, Sylvain.” You couldn’t meet his eyes, couldn’t look at anything besides the floor. “That’s what I came to tell you, but... nevermind. Good night, Syl. I’ll see you tomorrow in class.”

“Did you mean that? (Y/N), wait!” He spoke with disbelief.

“Why would I lie?” you asked, hardly audible. “Goodbye, Syl.”

His pleas fell on deaf ears as you dash yourself as fast as possible from Goddess Tower, locking yourself inside your quarters, clutching to Sylvain’s uniform coat, while crying yourself to sleep.

---

That’s the last thing that you can remember from your Academy Days. Things were never the same since that night. You never talk to the playboy ever again since that incident. No more night walks or late board games. When you have to work together in weekly duty, there’s an unseen awkward distance and heavy tension between you two.

The notorious philanderer went back into his old ways, going around with a different girl each day. You often catch him glimpse at you with eyes full of remorse and sadness (mostly when he thinks you aren’t looking or noticing). Everyone in the Blue Lions noticed the changes between your relationship but being very considerate of your feelings and trying to not mention anything about it.

Your Father called you back home because of his grave illness in Pegasus Moon, insisting you to leave the Officers Academy behind. Blue Lions was taken aback and sad with your abrupt leave. Going back to your home in Fhirdiad, days flies in a blur motion into moons and years.

---

It’s been 5 years since you left your Academy days in Garreg Mach.

A bloody coup led by Cornelia causes Duke Rufus and Dimitri both to be apparently killed. Her tyranny left Fhirdiad in poor state with poverty and famine. Holy Kingdom of Faerghus thrown into disarray condition with their Prince’s disappearance. The nation is plagued by civil strife and hardship.

With the vast majority of the former Kingdom lords having bent the knee to the overwhelming power of the Empire, all Blaiddyd territory, including the Kingdom capital, is ruled by those who are cooperating with the Empire, and is thus renamed the Faerghus Dukedom. Houses Fraldarius and Gautier were left to spearhead the resistance as the primary opponents of the Dukedom.

As the legitimate Marchioness of your major noble house in Blaiddyd territory after her Father’s passing, (Y/N) decided to keep on fighting against Empire until the bitter end, along with Houses of Fraldarius, Gautier, and Galatea. You keep maintain close relationships them, mostly with the neighbouring Houses, Fraldarius and Galatea. Whether it may be reinforcements soldiers to House Fraldarius or stock supplies to House Galatea, you are so much eager to give it all (sometimes by going there personally—much to your advisors’ dismay) to aid them. Being always giving or adding the most relevant information about current war state developments made you overjoyed when you heard about the news of Dimitri’s plan to recapture Fhirdiad.

---

It’s been forever since your last time fighting on the battlefield. Reclaiming the capital is a daunting task with shortage of soldiers and resources. Rodrigue’s death is a devastating blow to Faerghus’ military strength and resources. Not to mention that House Gautier and Galatea has any resources to spare. With limited resource of your own House, you decided to prioritize evacuation of Faerghus’ citizens and helping Blue Lions to the utmost.

Dimitri marches for Fhirdiad, causing the oppressed citizens to revolt against Cornelia’s tyranny People are rebelling against Cornelia and Fhirdiad has turned into a gruesome battlefield. Fire was everywhere The sound of metals echoed loudly in your ears. Large Titanus crowded the streets and wreaking havoc upon buildings and citizens. With your sword in your hands, you leap and cut through Kingdom Soldiers that is preparing to activate Viskam turrets against Felix.

You pushed forward with great caution. When you are done helping a pair of elders and children under the rubbles to evacuate, you saw him. Sylvain. Fighting over a mage and a large Titanus all by himself. Did he get separated? He barely dodged a fireball when you strike down that mage.

“Munchki--!” He gasped, surprised to see you back.

“Watch out, Syl!”

You leap in front of him, parrying and slash back at the Titanus’ large appendages that is going to smash him. Sylvain cast a Ragnarok and taking down the golem-like creature with a loud explosion, sending flying debris everywhere. He gasped, grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the way.

“Ugh... that hurts. Are you okay, Munchkin?” He was trapped under the rubbles and the first thing that he asked is your safety?

“W-why did you do that, Syl? You got hurt protecting me. Didn’t you want to kill me?”, you said as you helped him out from the rubble. Fortunately he is okay aside from a few scratch and bruises.

“When I thought you were going to be killed for real, my reflexes kicked in. I reacted without thinking. It doesn’t mean I’ve stopped being jealous of you. But, come on, I can’t help looking up to you.” He look at you with eyes full of worry and sadness.

“Sylvain..... Well.. It’s been awhile, but as much as I want to chat with you, we have to help Professor and Dimitri first. Cornelia has brought us so many sufferings. Now’s the time to put an end to all of this. And... thank you, Syl.” He nods and push forward to throw his lance at a Pegasus Knight that is fighting against Ingrid.

“I will go to deactivate Titanus’ lever. I know its location and it will help everyone tremendously against that gigantic monster! I’ll open Fhirdiad’s secret passages within my House territory to help everyone to get better access to Cornelia. When I’m done with it, I’ll regroup with reinforcement soldiers from my House to evacuate more citizens on the east side of Royal Capital, then go to help Dimitri fighting against Cornelia. See you later, Syl. Please stay safe.” You bid your farewell and run through smaller alley path, doing your missions, leaving Sylvain astonished at your very thorough, detailed plans.

Without the Titanus, Cornelia only has archers as her backups. As you take the archers down with Felix and Annette, Professor and Dimitri are working together to close in on her and take her down. It was a gruesome battle, but thanks to everyone’s efforts, casualties were kept to minimum and reclaiming Fhirdiad is a big success after Cornelia has been defeated.

---

It may be spring, but the nights are quite chilly here in Fhirdiad. The people are rejoicing at the return of their King. After a hard won battle of reclaiming Royal Capital of Fhirdiad, celebratory feast shows no sign of stopping. Growing weary of the festivities, you decided to excuse yourself from the banquet at the castle balcony.

“Munchkin. Here you are. His Highness has been looking for you. He wanted to express his gratitude for your loyalty and huge help at reclaiming Fhirdiad.”

“Good evening, Syl. We just did our utmost to help. Fhirdiad’s peace and safety of the Blue Lions is of the most important thing for me, after all.”

A moment of silence passed where both of you stayed still, just basking in the moonlight and enjoying each others’ presence for a while.

“I’m sorry. I really am.” You are taken aback when Sylvain bows his head deeply in front of you.

“I know I messed up really bad and it’s fair enough if you can’t find it in your heart to forgive me. My jealousy got the best of me and it has brought you so much harm. Most girls just want me for my title or my Crest, and when I thought that it was the same for you, I… I was the one who made a mistake. I’m sorry, truly I am.” Peeking at him from the corner of your eye, you could see the furrow of Sylvain’s brows, the frowning twist of his lips. It was a look you’d never seen on him. Regret and pain. He looks so vulnerable. Somehow, you didn’t doubt the apology.

“Please elaborate, Syl.”

“Since I bear a Crest, my parents made sure I was never left wanting. My older brother didn’t have one, and so when I was born, he was pushed aside. My mere existence stole everything from him. There’s so many people that want to get close to me because of my crest. Because of something I didn’t even want to be born with. I wish I could have cared as little about my Crest as you do yours...,” he grimaces, running a hand through his hair briskly. “Women smile at me for the same reason my parents adored me...and my brother wanted me dead. And I have to meet them all with a smile because I have a Crest.” Sylvain purses his lips.

“But you–you’ve never treated me differently. Always being there for me and understand me, and…and–I like you, (Y/N). No. I love you so much that it scared me. A lot,” he says, closing his eyes.

“You say that, but it doesn’t excuse the things you’ve done.” You didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to let him see mixed expression you were making at his sudden confession but you knew he was looking at you. Intently.

“I was devastated when you left Garreg Mach years ago. I lost you once and I won’t let it happen again. So.... what I’m saying is…” he hesitated and briefly appeared at a loss of words which is very unlike of him.

He hugs you closer very tightly it hurts, cradling you gently against his chest. This close, you can feel the rapid pace of his heart and his nervousness. “Can you give me a second chance?” Sylvain’s touch was awkward and clumsy.

“......I will. But first… Please let me go, Syl. You are crushing me.”

Sylvain paused, as if unsure. “Did you mean that?” Vulnerability colored his tone, softened it. “I’d like to be a man who deserves that. Who deserves you. Even if you want nothing to do with me, one day I will find a way to make it up to you, to earn your forgiveness. I promise.” His voice wasn’t strong with his infamous flirtatious bravado. It was sincere.

“You’re so much more than just your Crest or your status, Sylvain Jose Gautier.” Taking his much bigger hand in your tiny ones, you smiled and whisper it against his hand. “You are the most amazing, kind, strongest, and nice man for me. Your path is your own. I love you just the way you are, Sylvain. Crest or no Crest.” His face turned dark red instantly redder than his hair at your words. Sylvain.exe has stopped working

“You are going to be the death of me, Munchkin!!” Sylvain yells frantically. You can see his ears flushed furious red. He can die happy now. Goddess Sothis please take his soul.

“Why you still call me Munchkin, Syl?” you asked much to your curiousity. “It’s been years but you barely grow a few inch! But y-Ouch!! He yelps when you jab at his stomach. “But you have... grown into a fine, smart, and beautiful woman.”

“Time hasn’t been so kind to me in these past years, Syl. After my Father’s passing, I have to succeed him. Being a Marchioness isn’t an easy task but I learned so much and am still learning.”

“My sincerest condolences for your loss. But... he must be very proud of you, Munchkin. You will be a great Marchioness. Strong, thorough, quick-witted, and lovely as a—”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Mr. Gautier.” You rolled your eyes at him. The redhead laughs softly and embrace you in his arms.

“When this war is over, will you come with me to my homeland? It’s time for the first step in the right direction. I don’t want to marry a girl who wants to use me for my Crest or a girl who someone else chose for me. I want to marry someone I really care about. With you by my side, I’m excited to find out what this new way of life is all about. (Y/N), I’m serious. Marry me. I’d do anything for you. I’m done lying, especially to myself. I’m going to spend the rest of our lives together trying to make you happy. I promise.”

“I’d like to.... introduce you to my parents. They’d love to have a new Gauti—Gyaahh!!!” He shrieked when you stomped your feet on him. “I’m so DONE with you, Syl!!” you said with exasperated look, looking away trying to hide the rising heat in your cheeks. ‘A future with Sylvain...’

There’s a pause when you catch his gaze and find something vulnerable there, something familiar. The flicker of hope, mirrored in your expression. It’s as if everything falls into place and clicks. Then his lips were on yours, soft and hesitant, so unlike his usual self. Your eyes fluttered shut, your lips moulding against his, as his hand came up to cup your cheek. It was all the confession you needed.

“I will, Syl. I promise.”

---

Bonus:

When Professor and the Blue Lions heard about your new relationship with Sylvain, they offer you heartfelt congratulations and throw a little dinner party. Dimitri is OVERJOYED and sobs a little when he saw you are radiating with so much happiness. Back then in your Academy days, he was the one who worry about you the most when Sylvain treated you poorly, after all. Ashe and Dedue throw a lavish dinner to celebrate (Y/N) and Sylvain’s relationship that evening. Mercedes and Annette provide everyone with tasty sweets and dessert. It was a heartwarming small party among Blue Lions members.

Sadly, Sylvain didn’t get to celebrate it together. Rumors had it that Felix and Ingrid has beaten him to a bloody pulp (with Professor’s EXCLUSIVE permission) because he made you their lovely sweet lil sis wept and hurt. Sylvain kept on mumbling something between “Don’t ever hitting another girl”, “RUIN his Lance of Ruin”, “Don’t ever taint her”, or “You’re finished”. Even the kind and benevolent Mercie turned her back and refuse to heal Sylvain. The Gautier heir almost went to hell that evening.

The poor, traumatized philanderer will changing his ways for the better for sure.

#fe sylvain #sylvain angst #sylvain x reader #fe3h x reader #fe3h fluff #sylvain fluff #fe3h fanfic #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem x reader #angst #fluff #romance

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onyxheartbeat · 3 years

Text

Dear HIM/Ville Valo fans,

this is a long post but I must discuss this.

________

I came across this interview of Kat Von D from a few days ago. Before I get into my thoughts, below is a passage from her old book “Go Big or Go Home” which you may or may not have read. She wrote about Ville:

________

“I only knew his music, and I loved it on first listen. It was dark and it was beautiful. It was metal and it was poetry. It was love loaded into a gun, and I wondered about the man behind the songs. Two years later, our paths crossed, and like the majority of the connections I’ve made in life, tattooing brought us together. Through our first tattoo sessions, we began to get to know each other. For the next few years, I just thought of him as my friend from overseas, and that was all. Then, after knowing him for six years, something changed. It could have been the wine, the music, or the moon. Most likely it was just perfect timing. Just one kiss, and he changed my world. We were both sad back then, and lost. I was depressed, having finally ended a marriage that had been doomed from the beginning. I was also dealing with the pressures of filming a television show, which was totally new to me - and drinking my way blindly through it all. His story mirrored mine, and he had been feeling just as low. We had been waiting for something to happen, for someone or something to come along and save us from ourselves. And when it suddenly seemed that that someone was each other, it took us both by surprise. We shared darkness, and doing that bought light back into our somber worlds: for once, we didn’t feel alone.He’s the reason why I wanted to write music to begin with - and learn to sing. I remember the exact moment I made up my mind about making music. It was something I felt I needed to do, not for any reason other than a way to respond to him. It didn’t matter if the songs I’d write never saw the light of day, as long as he was able to listen to my music, my message to him. He had told me to look for a package at my door step, prefacing the delivery of the contents, his new album, saying, “These are all of the things that are easier sung than said.”I knew what he meant, but never imagined that each song would be filled with direct messages to me. I put the album on, and the music rushed out of the speakers and filled my house. His voice rang all around, making it’s way to the core of my heart with every word he sang. As cryptic as those lyrics may have been for anyone else, I knew exactly what each word meant and recognized every event and place he referred to. The songs were so beautiful, I just wished so badly that he could have said everything out loud just once to me. How should I respond to something like this? Where do I even start?The first time I saw him after I got sober, he was in town working on music. We sat in my office at the shop until the late hours of the night, talking and catching up about everything - music, home, art and work. Did we talk about love? No. We constantly danced around our past instead. What happened to us? I couldn’t find the courage to ask because I was scared of the answer I already knew. We decided to draw, with pencils and paper in front of us, we sat at opposite ends of the table. He pulled my three-minute timer from one of the nearby shelves, and placed it at the center of the table. He suggested we draw each other, and I was game. With a flip of the hourglass, the grains of sand moved from one vessel to the other, and we began.Sketching these timed portraits forced us to stare at each other, making it practically impossible to focus on the drawing itself. I had almost forgotten how beautiful his face was. He has a combination of eyes, lips, and a darkness to his looks that makes him look almost otherworldly. With him, I felt like I was at the center of an orderly, tranquil, magnificent universe. For those short three minutes, there were no questions about life or purpose. It was as if we never needed any more from each other than this.Like all people, I’ve suffered from love sickness and tasted the pain of love. The theatrical director of my mind, the one who staged all these versions of him and my life with him, seemed to be unaffected by reason. I was finding myself constantly day dreaming of the past.His eyes, his hands, his crooked smile - I’d ruminate over his features. Things he said. Things he did. Things he wrote. Things he drew. Things he sang. Over and over again, I’d sift through these images and memories as if they somehow contained the answer to my prayers. But I was living with a long-age memory of him; living so far away from the present moment.If we had spoken about what we were or what we thought we were, back when we got sober, I wouldn’t have been so confused, wandering what if, and writing the rest of our story in my mind. What did I expect? For him to magically not hear about me being in a relationship? And to not be bothered by it? If only he would have asked….. I would have….. If we could have only talked….. then things would be….. if we allowed ourselves to transform our fears of being open, vulnerable, then, I’d convince myself, we would be together. I realized that none of that mattered now. If I wanted to be free of this unrequited longing, I would have to make peace with the past and finally let it go. There was no way around it. But did I want to be free of it? - and him?I listened to one of his songs the other day. Out of all the songs he wrote on that album, this one was the most direct. He sings my name in the chorus. By the time the song is over, I’ve felt a range of emotions - I’m sad but happy, frustrated but calm. He sings about how I alone bring him to a place of stillness and peace within when we are together. What a victorious feeling - to enter into a place with him where no one else has been. To be able to bring goodness to and draw it out of someone. Those sweet thoughts were interrupted by an e-mail from him. Impeccable timing as always. It’s just a short note, letting me now he’s somewhere out there, thinking of me. He ends the message by calling me “Star Face” - his pet name for me from long ago that no one else uses. At that moment, I loathe him for it. I loathe him because I love him. Sometimes it feels like it would be so much easier to walk away from this if he’d just tell me that he hates me, that he wants nothing to do with me. But instead he calls me “Star Face.” There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s not letting go, either.‘Ultimately, it is the desire, not the desired, that we love.’The silver plane hurtled over Newfoundland, over the Labrador sea. Someone told me I might see the northern lights as I fly east and north, but I wouldn’t have noticed as I was deep in writing the letter that I had already mentally composed long before I decided to make this trip to see him over New Year’s Day. I didn’t have to edit myself this time, I knew exactly what the letter would say.I reread the note to myself before sealing the envelope. Then I drew out the first letter of his name in pencil on the front. What a beautiful letter it was, probably my favorite out of the entire alphabet. A letter I was so used to writing myself. With ease the swirls and curves of each arch seemed to flow from my heart, my mind’s eye, drawn in and through my arms to my hands, releasing themselves onto the pale ivory paper envelope. My plane landed soon after.I had missed this country, I had missed him, too. I wondered how time had treated him ,for it had been a few years since I had last seen him. I wondered if I still had the ability to quiet his heart when he was feeling manic. He always said I had a way of doing that when I was near. And I wondered if he even needed me in that way anymore.When we met up, he looked just as beautiful as the day we saw each other for the first time, almost ten years before. And as if no time had passed, we started right where we left off - hours flew by in the comfort of each other’s presence. Talking. Catching up.He asked if I was getting sleepy, and my attempt at concealing the tiredness was transparent. I looked at the clock; maybe it was the jet lag or the clock hands pointing to midnight, but I knew it was time to say good-bye. Reluctantly, we both stood up and tried our best to part ways. As good as it felt to be near him again, I gave him the letter I had written letting him know that I was letting the nation of us go. He took the sealed envelope, and then I watched him walk away for what I assumed would be the last time.My heart didn’t belong locked up in a tower across the ocean from my home. It belonged in my chest, beating, living, feeling, sometimes hurting, but always loving. I deserved to be free, and understanding and needing that more than a dream, I was finally able to let him go.”

_________

Now, let me start by saying, I’ve never understood this and I still don’t. I’ve had that passage saved in my drafts for years because I keep almost anything pertaining to Ville.

I’ve been a HIM fan since I was about 15 years old, and have followed Ville’s life and work closely. The friendship between them was always apparent to HIM fans in those days, because we saw her in photos with the band often. I used to watch Miami Ink and LA Ink as regularly as pretty much anyone in those days, and I remember when this particular passage of her book was brought to light, the HIM fan base read it and we all had our thoughts. We were all aware of Screamworks being written about Kat (it’s obvious in the lyrics of the album) even though Ville never specifically said Kat’s name when asked about it in interviews.

I remember being baffled back when we as HIM fans discovered this passage from the book. I couldn’t imagine not making that relationship work if it was true love. I’m a bit biased because I adore Ville and he’s like a dream to me, but I just couldn’t understand it. It seemed like she took the relationship for granted or she didn’t love him enough to make it work; but I digress. I get it; love and relationships are complex.

Still, flash forward to this recent interview (the screenshot), she says it was unrequited love, and I’m still not understanding it. Why release all the songs now? Why didn’t she make it work if it was true love? Who is she trying to say was the one not reciprocating (as the word “unrequited” suggests) in the relationship? I don’t understand any of it. More than anything, I’ve had so many questions that I wish I could ask Ville about it all because he only spoke briefly about it all, and it was always rather cryptic.

I’m only writing this as a HIM fan, and because I love Ville and his lyrics on Screamworks so, so much (it’s an extremely underrated album in the HIM discography, in my opinion) so I’m letting any fellow HIM lovers know she wrote an album in response to it, in case you’re interested. I haven’t followed Kat or her work in many years, so I don’t know what to make of all this, but it’s always been extremely apparent to me when listening to Screamworks that a lot of heart went into it and even pain, not that his lyrics on other albums aren’t like that too, but I felt it more on Screamworks. I feel that Ville was the one who was truly heartbroken.

You all probably know from following my blog that I’m obsessed with love and unrequited love. Any romantic stories, bittersweet letters, heartbreak, longing etc. is just my favorite thing in the world so please excuse the long post, haha.

#ville valo #him #h.i.m.#h.i.m #him band #screamworks #his infernal majesty

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