#BEGONE SNOW

[fidgetspringer]

More forest exploration stuff. This side of the mountain is a graveyard of downed trees.

[splattacks]

i open acnh and its still winter i HATE animal crossing winter what the hell. why does this last so long. wheres my green

[corvid-language-library]

It was 22ºC the other day and now it's 6ºC again??

[elegyofthemoon]

3 - 3 bots go away

[meadow-of-daisies-and-lavender]

Summary: When the god of the Winter needed a messenger, he had chosen you. Yet your elders wanted you dead. But John Price, the god of the Winter, had other plans for his devotee. Eventual Poly 141.

A/N: Leaving this here, then backing away slowly. If you like, please comment and reblog. Special thanks to @itsagrimm for editing, even though you aren't into the type of writing. Thank you to @ethereal-night-fairy and @wildflower-and-honey for feeding my brain worms. I love you three and cannot thank y'all enough <3 Thank you, @saradika, for your beautiful dividers that I use in literally everything.

CW: (18+) Children begone! PIV smut, swearing, a Dyslexic wrote this, Religious Kinks, brief mention of suicide, brief mention of hypothetical pregnancy because what is John Price without a breeding kink? Voyeurism, exhibitionism, praise kink, elements of paranoia, and mindreader elements.

NO AI

Leave a comment and reblog!

You had been abandoned. Sent aimlessly into the east by your deceiving elders to find the oh-so-benevolent god of Winter. Your people had discarded you, and perhaps, you had now been forsaken by the Holy One. Under the new winter moon, you had no bearing in these strange woods. You were lost and without hope. Stumbling into a thicket, you paused, catching your breath. Once your village elders cut your binds and removed the blade from your still bleeding throat, you ran. You had three options now: find the Winter God John Price and beg for mercy, return home to your village to die by your elder’s blade, or finally, die by a frozen death.

 

Yanking down the sleeves of your dress, you shivered. Only a fool would think the thin lace would be enough to fight the cold. You hadn’t bothered to ask for a cape when you would be dead come dawn by the blade of your elders or the mercy of winter’s chill. Besides, if the elders thought it could help entice the winter god closer to you, you welcomed the possibility. The god liked fine things- the fragility of ice coating sleeping trees, the nuanced tendrils that composed a snowflake, the finespun embroidery on an altar cloth. Perhaps the gossamer lace of your gown would make you look as alluring as snow?

 

Your village worshiped the god of the East along with his three other seasonal counterparts. In the winter, the altar faced east for John. In the spring, it faced north for Kyle. In the summer, the altar faced west for Johnny, followed by facing south in the Autumn for the one they called Ghost. You traversed the mezzanine of the aged temple as if it was your birthing ground, dedicating yourself to the unknown and to what divine vexed within. 

 

A creature howled in the far distance, three more joining in the call. You wished you had a blade for protection, but the foolish  elders would not allow it after the last messenger sent to find the God of Winter killed himself. He died from fear of the gods with his body left for the animals starved for winter scraps according to the elders. The collapsed skull and bloodied rock meant otherwise. You would become like the warrior- murdered- if you didn’t keep moving.

 

At least you’d be dead if you stopped moving, and wasn’t that something to rejoice over for the elders? They wanted you gone the moment you opened your mouth, defending the holy temples in a burning righteousness against their infidelity. The elders mocked your faith, staging a spectacle to rejoice in their perceived standings with the holy gods, to enshroud their continued greed of village resources, and holy temple offerings while preventing you from stepping foot inside the sacred temple. 

 

All you wanted was to worship your gods in peace and for your village to know that peace. 

 

A branch snapped in the distance. Setting your foot down ever so quietly, you glared into the darkness of the night. In your chest, your lungs froze as if a tiny breath could lead starving beasts toward you, but your heart tapped a wild rhythm against your bones like a war drum urging warriors forward in battle. Between the bones of the trees, a figure raised from the ground. Dirt quaked in its path, fearing the disturbance as flashes of odd whites and black wove into a tall, hulking beast emerging like smoke. The vaporous monster inhaled. It was as if he sucked the forest in with his expanding breath, the conductor of the skeletal structure of the land. The one who assembled appendages of bone like armor and crown, marking his distinct otherness to any creature known before. Opening his eyes, bright gold light flared from its eye sockets, a perpetual fire, locked on burning you alive.

 

You ran. Barreling through the underbrush, thorns cut and tore at your dress, slowing you down. Pushing deeper into the woods, you dared not glimpse back at the monstrous shape. The gods, you prayed, would give one last indulgence by sparing your life. Dodging fallen trees and saplings, you heaved for a breath. Your toe caught on something sending you tumbling forward, down the hill, to be stopped by a mangled stump. There was little to be felt from the roar in your mind and blood careening to endure, to run, to survive.

 

Looking up, the terrifying haint peered down at you with its head tilted to the side, lazily biding his time hunting you. Fleeing, you made way towards the river that supplied the village with water. The monsters couldn’t cross the running water at the bottom of the ravine. Everybody knew that. Your breath created puffs of smoke with each gasp of air, streaming from your lips like a dragon’s purr.

 

Down at the river, you paused, cursing at your luck. The river was frozen over, but how deep the ice went was beyond you. You had to cross, fighting for a chance at life and to find John Price to appeal for assistance proving your claims. Taking a deep breath, you ventured on the ice, straining your ears for cracking and shifting sounds. Freedom sang like a siren from the other side of the waters with the promise of faith delivering you into her hands. On the other side was an assurance of one more day in your beloved temples with the beloved gods, of life, and of being free from the elders.

 

Without the freedom to roam the holy grounds of faith, what would be left for you?

 

You slipped with a screech, flailing until you caught your balance. Your hands trembled as breath fogged the air. Crossing was the only option, regardless of death prowling down to find you. The thought of the being sent shivers down your spine, and you squeezed your eyes shut as if it would banish the evil and push you across the waters.

 

“Stop!” A man bellowed like thunder echoing in the ravine. You jumped, slipping on the ice. With an assured crack, the ice broke, plunging you into the icy waters.

 

You gasped, choking on river water. Kicking to the surface, you were met with a ceiling of ice. You hit the ice with your hand to no prevail until the bubbles from your nose dissipated and a film of darkness descended upon your peripherals. In the gloom, eyes of golden fire shimmered at you, refracted by the ice, illuminated by the flash of lightning. 

It smelled like oak and spices as you inhaled. The bed you laid in was spacious, a soft luxury you sunk greedily into. Moments of time slowly returned to you as you stirred, until a tapestry unfolded, painting what had occurred in the woods to you. How you had survived drowning or hypothermia was beyond you, feeling none of it, now. Cocooned tightly in thick blankets, albeit naked as the day you were born, sleep still called in the comfort of the home. A warm crackle of a fireplace and the deep mutterings of men speaking filled your ears as you blinked. In your nest, you buried further in, savoring the needed heat with a sigh with your eyes peeking over the cover.

 

The two men, seated in the corner, had stopped conversing to stare at you. One was slim but muscular, with dark skin and shining brown eyes. He wore a grin both authentic and sly as if mischief personified, waiting for his time to strike and laugh at your mild misfortune. 

 

The other man was a bear. Thick, burly, legs with sizable thighs spread to consume room; it seemed all he did was call attention to himself. The cocky spread of his legs to the icy blues of his eyes; your neck burned as he smirked, having caught you staring.

 

“Hello, Fawn,” The bear rumbled, intentionally softening his voice and leaning down as if afraid to spook you like the little deer.

 

“Ghost found you,” injected the younger one. “It took him and Soap to pull you from the ice and bring you home. That was pretty stupid; getting on the ice like that. Haven’t people told you not to do that?”

 

Getting on the ice was stupid, but letting yourself get consumed and murdered by a beast was even worse. You had half a mind to tell the younger man your thoughts on the matter, but here you were, naked in a stranger's bed… alive. While grateful, you needed to leave. The task to find John and plead for his assistance in clearing the village of your awful elders still loomed, as did the precarious nature of being nude in a room of two strong men. 

 

“I’m looking for someone,” You mumbled. “I had no choice.”

 

“I know,” The older man hummed before speaking your name like a whisper of wind on your ear. 

 

The God of Winter . Your spine went straight before you bolted upright, clinging the blankets to your chest. These men were not men at all but your four holy gods. There was half a mind to shuck off the blankets and fall to your knees in reverence. You had offered prayers while bathing before; was this any different? As you shifted, apologized, and begged for pardons on the tip of your lips, John shook his head and stood.

 

“Gaz, go let Soap and Ghost know our fawn is all right,” John said, clasping Gaz on the shoulder. Gaz promptly left the room, closing the wooden door behind him, not before offering you one final comforting grin.

 

“I am sorry. I had to find you. The elders sent me to the woods to murder me. And… I didn’t know what else to do but to seek your help. I’m so sorry, please forgive me. The elders are murdering anyone who dares question them. Nobody believes me even though I have proof! The village will not survive the winter because of our elder’s theft from them and of the temple and I need your help. I have done nothing wrong except be loyal to you, John,” You rushed out in a single breath. “Please, help me. Help us .”

 

John set his hand on your cheek, running his thumb over your warming cheeks. A violent shiver sprung through your body, encouraging you closer to the god. You closed your eyes and nuzzled into his palm, lulled by the smell of spices and the alluringness of being physically held by him. Finally, you had removed the burden of secrecy and responsibility and John took it lightly with his hands soothing the ache from your skin with the glide of his fingers. 

 

“Love, you’re being too harsh. There is no reason to apologize,” He reassured you with a kiss on your forehead. “The fault lies with your elders. You have done all I have asked of you and more. Do not agonize yourself over the stubbornness of others. It will get you nowhere.”

 

You closed your mouth and held his wrist, keeping him to you. You thought of all your nights spent praying to the god of Winter when sleep evaded you. When you screamed or cried your prayers in agony, begging the divine god of winter to make himself known to you so that your faith was not in vain and your people could be free from the elders. 

 

But what of your people? What choice would they make? The old gods were worshiped only in tradition and the elders had slowly pushed your people further from the gods as the temple began to deteriorate. 

 

You were always dedicated to the divine in odd ways. Observant gifts of John’s favorite flowers and drinks were left on your homemade altar—prayers written on little papers in a box. Spare time spent tending to the aged temple and cleaning it, preparing it for worship. Devotion in wearing John’s favorite color as a ribbon around your wrist, bearing his color like a mark of ownership over you. 

 

It was… your stomach clenched as you remembered bathing in his favorite fragrances, the soap trailing between your breasts, water falling as gracefully as the curves of your skin, for his solstice day. Later that night, deciding to offer John an orgasm on a lust-induced whim. When you came down from your high, you swore you could feel the divine by your knees, looking down at the mess you had made, dribbling into the sheets. The idea of him voyeuring into your bedroom made you leak, reaching a bold hand down to part your lips for him to see your swollen clit.

 

“What you want from us, little Fawn,” John tilted his chin to look you in the eyes as his warm toned voice dipped between your thighs to make them clench. “Comes at a high cost for you.”

 

“And let my people suffer from the elder’s greed? Surely, you understand how harsh winter can be! And to let the gods lay waste when this is proof you still are near has to be blasphemy. I don’t want to die, but I’d rather try dying than be left bystanding in silence, rotting away-”

 

John took your neck in hand and hulled you to your feet. Your words died on your tongue as his nose pressed into your cheek. Chests pressed together, his human form radiated heat and softness protecting layers of muscle and power. You wondered briefly if his divine form would look more bear or beast, unleashing the thrum of calculated energy pulsing inside the god.

 

“Fawn, martyrdom is for suicidal fools. Not even the martyrs ask for their portion, they stumble upon it trying to uphold the will of the gods which threatens the portions and powers that be in your mortal world,” John shook your head ever so slightly, pressing closer until you gasped, looking up at him with wide eyes. Dark as ice, they pierced into you flickering from your eyes to your mouth, the urgency he held you with inching into territories you were unsure of but eager to explore. His eyes flickered down for a moment, and you shivered at your exposure, pressing your face into his neck as if to hide. “You will stay the night but come dawn, you must return home to live for us.” John instructed, pushing your hair from your neck. Leaning down, he nipped the bottom of your ear playfully, kissing along your neck.

 

You hummed, offering your neck to his lips. It didn’t matter if you had laid with a million other people before or none at all. You yearned for the assured solidity of the gods, and now you had it. They could have your body, the works of your hands, the words of your mouth, the paths of your feet. You only wanted to be near John, safe, nestled into his side, even if for a little while. To be welcomed into the god of winter’s bed for even a night? The idea made your thighs slickened with want, heat pooling in your stomach.

 

Everything in your bones wanted to please him, to let him have his fill of you, to honor him with the best of your skin and body. You’d get on your knees for him. Suck his cock until you are panting, with his cum on your tongue. You wanted to be good . You let out a little whine, a soft vibration in your throat. John chuckled, coming up from your throat to kiss you properly, all while moving you on the bed.

 

He kissed down your throat, gently touching your chest with the hints of friction making you squirm, tangling your fingers in his hair.

 

“I want you to soak my fingers and cock with this pretty cunt tonight, Fawn” John decidedly spoke. You eagerly nodded, humming as his hand squeezed the fat of your stomach. 

 

You opened your thighs as he descended between them, grinning as he knelt before you. You could have laughed at his eagerness if it wasn’t for the gentle, inquiring sweep of his finger through your folds, collecting your wetness. A sigh fell from your lips as he played with your cunt, a pleasant warmth filling your mind as your legs found a home on his shoulders, your hand on the back of his neck, scratching the short hairs there.

    

“Been thinkin’ about this pretty pussy since you showed her to me,” John growled, thumb swirling on your clit just as you had when you played yourself for him. Your knees bent, pushing your pelvis to catch the angle just right . “Offered me use of your body, a delicacy, to use as I please. Perfect little human for me to fuck whenever,” He growled before putting his mouth to work, sucking on your clit.

 

You keened, bucking your cunt into his face. John devoured you whole, feasted on you, your head in the clouds, floating with nothing to tether you but his mouth. The god of winter’s fingers prodded your entrance, slipping in with a slight stretch. His fucking hands, reaching depths you could never achieve on your own, made you moan, opening your eyes to watch him. From below your stomach, John was fully committed, eyes closed, grunting against your cunt.

 

John fought against your legs, drawing out the pulsing waves of pleasure until your ears were ringing, vision white, cresting into a beautiful brainless hum as your body went limp. 

 

“Fuck, John, I can’t,” You whimpered, pushing his forehead back. Your chest heaved, hands grasping for anything you could reach until he slid his hand in yours, anchoring you to him. He moved, and you closed your sticky thighs, clenching at the slick dribbling down. John reverently kissed your collarbone, hands brushing over your scalp, lulling you from the cloudy space.

 

His lips kissed along your neck and chest as his hands wandered along your hips and thighs, rough fingers tickling the sensitive skin of your ass. Your eyes opened, greeted by his gentle gaze as he hovered over you. His mouth had been pinkened by your cunt, hair mused by your thighs and hands. 

 

Grabbing his hand, you kissed his palm before licking the fingers that had been inside of you moments before. Something was intoxicating about the way you tasted, strong and delicious. Taking his fingers in your mouth, you hummed, thinking about how much thicker his cock would feel. John swore, pushing his fingers against your tongue, stilling your control. You moaned, letting your eyes close and legs fall open. Holding his arm, you could feel how your tits were pressed together by your biceps, making you not only a sight but a spectacle .

 

“Want my cock that bad, little fawn?” John teased. Opening your eyes, you nodded, nudging him closer with your foot. Removing his fingers, he drug his hand down your centerline, leaving a cold trail of your spit down your body. He slowly entered you, grunting with his eyes glued to the way you sucked him in.

 

“Fuck, John,” You whimpered, panting at the fullness pressing you open. His thumb rubbed your clit, lulling you back to another orgasm. Spreading your legs, he placed a knee on the bed as he began to thrust, covering his cock in your frothy slick.

 

It was hot and so, so full as he reached parts of you that had you gasping for air and tearing up. There was no pinch, only a subtle burn from the stretch, soothed by his cooing in your ear and thumb working wonders on your clit. Shifting his hips, he fed you more of his cock, making your vision go frayed around the edges. If your brain could leak away, it would slowly leak out with the wetness of your cunt.

 

“Just like that, fawn,” John encouraged, making you clench around him. “My little offering to take as I want, letting me use you like a good girl,” John grunted as you clenched around him, his hands falling to your stomach and hip, selfishly grasping at the plush skin to pull and drag you off his cock with.

 

“I’m,” You whined, clawing at the god’s massive arms, rippling with movement. “Please, John! Feels so good, filled up,” You babbled, trying to run closer and further with each thrust.

 

His other hand laid over the base of your throat, curling possessively around, forcing your eyes to his, forehead to forehead, as he pressed and pressed into your cunt, stretching you wide and filling you perfectly.

 

“Pretty wet cunt, dripping for me,” John’s lips brushed your ear, moaning into it. He reached a hand to gently pinch your nipple, making you gasp. “Rub yourself for me. Let me see you soak my cock.”

 

You slid a hand between your thighs and rubbed your clit, spreading your lips wider, feeling fully exposed, unable to help the moan and the chasing buck of your hips, humping the tight heat pooling in your stomach.

 

“Cum, love. Cum for me.”

 

You listened, you always did, a perfect little offering for him to use. You fought to keep your eyes open as you came, body convulsing, to show him what he had made you into. But when your fingers became too sharp, the pleasant hum of blood in your head turning into a sharp ringing, you went limp, thighs covered in slick cum as John took his final thrusts. Ropes filled you as his hand lovingly smoothed over your lower stomach. He rested his forehead on yours, panting as he lazily kissed you, his cock twitching as you warmed him. 

 

“You okay?” John whispered from his place between your breasts as you scratched the back of his head.

 

“Sore,” You hissed as he slipped from you but was quickly scooped into his arms and laid across his chest. “M’tired,” You confessed, closing your eyes with a soft sigh.

 

You would be content to lie on his chest for the rest of time, feeling the rise and fall of his breath, wrapped in the warmth of his broad arms. Everything about you felt small compared to him; the way his hands engulfed yours, the way your calves had laid over his shoulder, the ripple of muscles and fat as he had fucked you. 

 

“I need to clean up,” You mumbled, fingers following the lines of his pectorals. 

 

“In a moment, darling. We’ll both clean up.” John kissed the top of your head, reaching for a glass of water for you to drink from before he took a few sips.

 

The god of Winter leaned down and kissed you so gently, soothing the aches with gentle hands against your thighs. Though, you felt it was more an excuse to touch your thighs more, but you didn’t mind. After cleaning up, you fell asleep swiftly, draped over his chest as his fingers traced dainty traces of snowflakes along your spine, tended to and protected. 

In the morning, you woke in your own bed, dressed in the robes of a high priestess, as someone pounded on your door. As you rose, you felt the phantom aches of the previous night between your thighs. Quickly hiding the robes, you caught the white scars of John’s handprint over your womb, etched like silver ice into your skin.

 

“One second!” You yelled, dressing. Once you were decent, you threw open your door and gawked.

 

“There’s been a war party! They burnt the elder’s homes and the wheat stores! We need help!” The man took you by the arm and pulled you into the fray of dark smoke against the blooming pink winter sky. It was snowing, melting into water that slid down your arm and into the frosted grounds.

[saphirafoxgirlspost1]

(Open Rp) Alternate Love Story in "The Fox princess and the Monkey King"

Long Ago, In the Kingdom Of Sakutopia Ruled by The Kind and Compassionate Emperor Of the Celestial world Connected in Every beautiful Kingdoms.. including The Jade Palace.. but There's One Land that was Forbidden and the New parts of hell was Known as "The Shadowland" Home of the great Shishagami who is a ruler of this Barrens of Decay, No one dared to go there because the entrance was Guarded by the Great Orc who will Attack anyone that tried to go in or Going out. Then There was a Kingdom Nearing this Waste land was Known as the Dark Kingdom Home of the Demonic Bats and Decay itself.. His name is "Koumori" The Son of the Great Shishagami and He was Known as the "Bat King", He's been Watching The beautiful Kingdom with his crystal ball hating all the beauties and Living until he Spotted The Princess Of the Sakutopia Name "Saphira Lorraina Fox" The daughter Of the emperor himself, He began to Fell in love with that beauty and he wanted her as a Trophy wife, His queen. He decided to Plan to marry his Daughter and taking over the kingdom Turning the celestial Realm into Darkness and decay, Then the Next day The Bat King arrives at the palace as the Emperor Demands an explaination why the bat King enters the kingdom uninvited Himself, Then The Bat king Told The emperor that He wanted a hand In marriage to His daughter.. The Emperor was furious and Shouted," You will Never Marry My daughter! She Sees you that your Not worthy for her hand! Begone you Vile Demon! Your Not Welcome to my kingdom!" The Bat King was Seething in rage..and Then He said," Fine but mark My words Your Majesty, Your Daughter will be Mine Either she Likes it or not! She Will be My Queen!" Then The Bat King Vanished from the kingdom.. The emperor was Worried about Saphira's Safety and Now, She is in Danger and So, He began to sent His daughter to the Jade palace where the Jade Emperor will Protect her Until the Bat king is being dealt with.. Before Saphira Head to the golden Carriage, her Father Stopped and handed her a Jaded Box, he said," My dear Daughter,, if the bat King is coming after you and ambush you.. You must go to the Human world and go to the Peach Flower Mountain, remember I told you about the Monkey king?" "Yes Father, you told me all about it..including his Life, the peaches, everything else. Why?" She asked.. then her Father answers," There you will find him.. He'll protect you from The Bat king." Then he hugged His daughter goodbye with tears running down on his cheeks. When Saphira got into the Golden Carriage and took off heading Down to the Jade palace but suddenly The Army of the Demonic Bats Ambushed them.. Then the Coach knew this would happen, So he summon the Portal to the human world and went through it..as the Portal Closed, Saphira Change into her Human Form.

Her hair is White as snow, Her eyes is Blue as a sapphire Sea and her skin is Pale as a moonlight.. While the carriage was taken her to the lovely area..it stopped by the docks and she comes out..and got in..and little does she know..she notice the beautiful Butterfly with a monkey face on the wings as she smiles, She knew that this Butterfly is rare to find it but little does she knows that this butterfly is the monkey king watching over her..When suddenly..She hears the bats screeching from the new portal..as she landed on sure and saw the mountains..and she began to run like hell..and saw the path to the top of the mountain.. Then She began grabbed her horse when it got out from the boat..she rides up there and made it to the cave.. she enters it..and sees the bolder is closed to be protected…The army of demon bats retreat after failing to enter the cave..The Bat king is Not Happy about it..So he Decided to Change into His Human form and Hides in the Big City waiting for her to Come to the city.. Meanwhile Saphira Saw the Ruines on the wall showing the life of the monkey King, every place turns gold as it shows it until she sees the monkey king and she said, "You there!" She sees him running and began to chase after him.. and when he stops and she said, "Wait I-" when she touched it..it went passed her.. and the gold faded as She gasp.. Then The Small Monkey face Butterfly appeared and She said, " I Should've Swore He was here.." Then Suddenly.. She sees the Monkey Face Butterfly Landed on the back of her hand and She looked at it and saw the golden eyes..and then The Butterfly said….

[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

Snow Drop Part. 6

Description: After an intruder at Dragonstone proves Y/N's loyalty to Queen Rhaenyra, Jacaerys must protect both his mother and his Lady. When his lady starts to distance herself from him, he must convince her of the sincerity of his love for her.

Warnings: None. Female reader.

Jacaerys had sought to convey through his eyes his desperate plea that his love hear his supplication for her hand, but promptly gave in when he met her own equally pleading gaze. Her urgent attempt to remove herself from his presence when he had attempted it had convinced him that she knew what he would have asked and that she would reject his love. Whilst the thought was inexpressibly painful to him, he would not enforce his suit upon her if it was so unacceptable to her. With a heavy heart, pain constricting his chest, he attempted to convey the love he felt for her into the placement of her flower in her hair and in his kiss to her hand, fearing it would be the last time she would allow him to do so. Steeling himself so that the true desperation and despondency he felt would not be visible on his features, he promptly left the room. He had been right to fear that she would never return his love for her and he knew not how to confront the reality that he would never be able to marry the woman he loved. With such heavy thoughts to plague him, he did not find solace in sleep that night, although his attempt was loudly disrupted by the rough voice of his guard speaking to someone on the other side of the door. He listened intently for the sound of the other person's voice, so much softer and quieter than his guard's, unable to make it out. Rising from his reclined position, still dressed with his cloak on, he approached the door and was alarmed to hear the following exchange.

"I will repeat only one more time that you have no leave to speak to the Prince. You have a nerve even requesting an audience. Begone girl!"

A soft, tremulous voice spoke up, one he would have recognized anywhere.

"Please, I must speak with the Prince now, his mother is in danger!"

Hearing the frightened voice of his love and that his mother was in peril, Jacaerys quickly opened the door to be met with the tear-streaked face of his lady, cowering away from his guard.

Physically pushing his guard away from her by the chest, and positioning himself in between the two, he spoke dangerously, through gritted teeth to him.

"A member of my mother's household asks to have an audience with her Prince to inform him of the Queen's peril and you rebuke her for it. I would not think a member of the Queen's Guard so lax in his duty. Get to the Queen, now!"

The guard looked momentarily shocked and chastened, looking between the Prince and the maid, before quickly turning on his heel in the direction of the Queen's apartments.

Jacaerys whipped around to face his lady, taking hold of her shoulders with gentle hands as he lowered his head to meet her gaze.

"My love, what has befallen the Queen and where can she be found? I ask you to speak quickly and clearly, if you can."

Nodding jerkily, still in tears which tore at his heartstrings, she spoke concisely.

"She is in her room. An intruder knight attacked her. He was killed by his brother and the Queen is with her knights now. I heard the noises and saw the Queen's maid fleeing from the room. I came to get you as soon as I heard."

Realising that his mother was no longer in immediate peril, he pulled Y/N to his chest and kissed the top of her forehead, before wrapping an arm around her shoulders to lead her gently into his room. He led her to an armchair and she sat without question, seemingly in too much shock to protest. He bent down to her level to gently help her to lean back against the chair, before removing his cloak and placing it around her. He rose again to the table, quickly returning with a goblet of wine, which he placed in her hand.

"Rest here, my love, and I will return as soon as I can, once I have made sure that my mother is well. You will be safe here. Sip the wine, it is good for the shock."

He rose to leave, reluctant though he was to leave her alone in such a state, but she quickly grabbed his hand, a look of fear on her face.

He lowered himself to her eye level again, speaking coaxingly.

"I promise that you are safe, here, there are two more guards down the passage and I will order both to stand guard here. I will return forthwith."

Seeing the necessity of his departure, she nodded, reluctantly releasing her grip on his. Seeing that she still trembled, he held her head gently in both his hands and placed a soft kiss to her forehead before departing from the room and running in the direction of the Queen's chambers.

Jacaerys ran back to his rooms after first assuring himself that his mother was safe and comforting her, incensed that she had been placed in harm's way. He blamed himself for not having been there and a review of the security arrangements for the Queen would be the first order of business he would present at tomorrow's Council. At this moment, however, his priority was to comfort his frightened, brave lady who had come to warn him of his mother's peril, at great risk to herself. He felt his love grow for her, if it was possible, to an even greater extent, filling his whole heart with her image. Approaching his door, he thanked the two guards for their service and ordered them to return to their positions along the hall. He had no need of them now, since he would be the one to protect his love, should it come to it. Tentatively opening the door, so as not to frighten her, he was distressed to hear her still cry out in fright.

He hastily moved into the room so that she would know it was only him, and not another intruder, hastening towards her. "It is only me, my love. You have nothing to fear, the intruder is no longer a threat and my mother is safe. You are perfectly safe with me, I will stand between you and any threat."

He lowered himself on one knee before her, again, brushing the hair back from her face, as he took hold of both of her hands. He met her gaze with a look of adoration and awe at the bravery she had shown in coming to warn him of his mother's peril.

"Thank you for what you have done this night, my brave girl."

He was saddened to see the look of fear she still bore, almost like a deer, and he felt an overwhelming surge of protectiveness towards her at the sight. Dragonstone was a dark, ill-fated place for one so gentle and pure, but that was all the more reason for him to be her protector. Her face crumpled as tears welled, once again, behind her eyes and he lifted his arms out to her before thinking better of it. To his surprise, she immediately bent forward to meet his arms, and he wrapped them around her frame, holding her protectively to his chest as she cried. He spoke soft assurances that he was there and that she was safe into her ear, holding her until her breathing had calmed and she had ceased crying. As she removed himself from his hold, he found himself bemoaning the loss of contact, but was relieved to see that she was becoming calmer.

"I should return to my room, it would no do to be seen leaving the Prince's chambers at such a late hour. People will talk"

"They will do so only if they no longer require the use of their tongues. I will see you back to your chambers." Seeing that she meant to protest, he added with a small smile, "that is not a request."

He took hold of both of her elbows to raise her to stand, before wrapping her arm around the crook of his to lead her back to her chambers. Whilst the bastard traitor who had attacked his mother had been apprehended and despatched, he did not trust to leave his lady to return to her chambers alone, unprotected. He left her right outside her door, the hour being close to dawn, and no one being awake to see them

Cupping her cheek reassuringly, he spoke in a gentle tone. "Get some rest, and do not attend to your duties tomorrow. I will speak with the matron. Do not be afraid, I will have an extra guard placed outside the servants' quarters and you can come to me if you are frightened. I will remain close by. No harm will befall you or anyone else in the castle, I swear it." Pulling her to him to embrace her once more, stroking the back of her head, he gently led her to her door, only leaving once she had shut it behind him. Even after posting another guard at the entrance to the hall where his lady's chambers were, he was reluctant to leave her but contented himself with the thought that he would remain close by, should she need him and seek him out.

Y/N had succeeded in having only a fitful rest, tossing and turning over the events of that night. Once the fear and the shock had left her, she was left feeling a little embarrassed at how she had clung to the Prince in her distress the night before. She comforted herself with the thought that he hadn't seemed to mind, and had even gone out of his way to comfort her and make her feel safe. She had not thought much of it in the moment, so alarmed was she, but her mind now turned repeatedly to the Prince calling her his love, and her cheeks heated at the thought. The more she thought on it, the more convinced she became that the Prince's feelings for her were genuine, but she could hardly believe that he meant to marry a mere servant girl. It was this thought that had led her to interrupt the Prince when he had knelt before her, fearing that she would not be able to prevent herself from falling into his arms if he professed his feelings for her. The thought sobered her and was a reminder that she could not allow herself to be so familiar with the Prince again, lest he should think that she reciprocated his feelings for her. It did not matter if she did, if they could never be together. Unable to sit alone with her thoughts any longer, she began to dress in readiness to resume her daily duties, in spite of the Prince's order that she abscond from them that day. It would be better to distract herself, rather than dwell on the impossibility of her love for the Prince ever being returned.

Prince Jacaerys had had an equally restless night, as he had been intermittently patrolling the halls near his mother's apartments and near the servants' quarters, after first having spoken to the head of the Queen's guard to ascertain how the breach in security had occurred. He could not sleep when both his mother and his love's safety were at stake. He spent the majority of the morning in the Council chamber, discussing plans for implementing heightened security at Dragonstone. His mind continued to wander, as the Lords around the table argued, to thoughts of his lady: if she had managed to rest after the shock she had experienced the night before, or if she had been too afraid. This thought had him clenching his jaw in frustration at the bickering of the Lords around him. He should be comforting his lady right now and reassuring her of his protection, having first settled upon increased security plans for his mother, but they were all more concerned with promoting their own agendas than that of the Queen's protection. He hoped that his lady was resting well now. Forcefully turning his thoughts back to the present moment, he contented himself with the thought that he would check in on her later.

Hours later, Prince Jacaerys sat at a table in the library, anxiously awaiting the arrival of his lady. When he had enquired as to her whereabouts with the matron, he was surprised and alarmed to find that she had decided to carry out her duties, in spite of his urge that she rest. She was certainly headstrong, a quality she may find useful as his Princess, if she was to rule over the Seven Kingdoms at his side. He found his lip upturning at the thought. The tread of light footsteps had him stumbling to his feet however, as he saw his lady walking towards her and he strode to meet her. Taking hold of her elbows in his hands, he lowered his face to search her eyes for any sign of distress from the events of the previous evening. He was relieved to see that she appeared calm, although he frowned at the dark circles forming crescents underneath her eyes, and the pale pallor of her skin. Sighing, he raised his hand to affectionately brush a lock of her hair behind her ear, before lightly stroking her cheek with his knuckles.

"I had thought you would listen to your Prince's entreaty that you get some rest. I see I was clearly mistaken in that. Are you well, my Lady?"

He quickly dropped his hand, however, when she took a step away from him. Frowning, he realised that she must have found his affectionate gesture displeasing. Not wanting to make her uncomfortable, though it pained him to think that his presence did so, he took a step back of his own. Perhaps it was presumptuous of him to hope that her allowing him to hold and comfort her the previous night would mean that she was beginning to open her heart to him.

"I am well, my Prince. I only came to thank you for your protection and kindness towards me last night. I do hope that the Queen is recovering."

He bristled inwardly at the cold formality he detected in her voice, as if she were trying to place a distance between them.

"Thank you for your concern, as regards the Queen. I assure you that my mother is well and I have seen to her enhanced security. I cannot tell you how grateful I am to you for your actions last night. There is no need for you to thank me. I will always protect you, if you will permit me..." He stopped mid-speech as she raised a palm up.

"Thank you, my Prince. I will bid you good night." Saying this, she curtseyed before turning to leave abruptly, walking at a brisk pace away from him.

A look of alarm crossed his features at this. Did she really mean to leave so soon. What had he done to offend her so? Before he could think better of it, he began to follow her.

"My Lady, have I offended you in some way for you to be so distant. May I not at least escort you back to your chambers?"

She sidestepped his attempt to step in front of her, continuing to walk away from him, though she politely declined his offer.

"That will not be necessary, my Prince. I thank you for your kind offer, but I would prefer to be alone."

Y/N tried to ignore the pain that arose in her own chest at the disconsolate expression of the Prince at her words, as he stopped following her, and his head dropped downwards.

Tearing her gaze away from him, she continued to walk determinedly in the direction of her chambers before she heard him speak in a soft, broken voice she had never heard from him before.

"If my love for you is really so displeasing to you, my suit for your hand so distressing, I will decease immediately, my Lady. I apologise for having disturbed your peace." His tone was contrite, and as he looked up to meet her gaze, she could have sworn his eyes glistened with unshed tears. His words had caused her heart to stutter at his profession of love for her. She had not been expecting him to be so direct, even though she had suspected he held some regard for her. She had not been expecting him to intimate a proposal of marriage, and her heart leapt into her chest at the suggestion now. It took a great deal of restraint not to break her resolve and run into his arms, as he said it. She bolstered her resolve, a memory of having trusted another man's vow of love and marriage to her before acting like a cold hand, extinguishing the warmth growing in her heart. The man before her was a Prince and, no matter how genuine his regard for her or how true his intentions were, it was madness to think that he could or would ultimately marry her. No, she would never be so foolish again. She turned fully back to him to break her own heart.

"I do not think it appropriate for you and I to continue to meet in the library, my Prince. I...I thank you for your kindness towards me, but I must remind you that you are a Prince and I am only a servant girl. I am no Lady, for you to be making such speeches to."

His expression underwent several changes as she spoke, from pained to resigned and finally determined, as a spark lit behind his eyes. He took slow, measured steps towards her, as if approaching a frightened deer who could startle and flee from him at any moment.

"Is that your cause for concern, that I am not serious in my intentions towards you, my love for you impure? I assure you, my Love, that I have only ever seen you as the Lady you are. I would have you accept my solemn promise of love and protection towards you as my wife and Princess. I offer myself to you as your husband."

Lost in a daze at his words, Prince Jacaerys had stopped right before Y/N, looking adoringly into her eyes before she processed how close he had come, or how he had enclosed both of her hands in his. As she met his gaze, she was stunned at the look of almost reverence she saw behind his eyes, and she nearly gave into her desire to believe his words and assure him that she felt the same for him. A painful memory arose in her mind, once again, to dampen such a desire, and she reluctantly withdrew her hands from his and stepped away from him. His face fell as she did so into a look of utter despair before he turned his head towards the floor, and drew in a sharp intake of breath. A moment later he met her gaze again, nodding as if in resignation, before bowing respectfully to her.

"I understand, my Lady. I will not intrude my presence upon yours a moment longer."

With a pained expression as he looked at his love one last time, resolving to give her the space away from him she seemed so desirous of placing between them, he turned on his heel down the hall.

Y/N's lip wobbled and her eyes welled as she watched him leave, but she steeled herself, repressing a sob as she turned to make her way back to the servants' quarters. She tried to remind herself that she had done the right thing for both of them, even as each step she took away from him had her feeling like she was falling into a chasm she would not be able to lift herself out of.

[thelustybraavosimaid]

I know I talk about it a lot, but it's the heart and home stuff that really gives me pause in regards to how much Jon and Arya mean to one another. It's not just the comparisons between Ygritte and Arya, or Arya constantly being on Jon's mind and vice versa, or even the fact that George intended for the two of them to dream of each other, but that she's called a dark heart and he calls his own heart black.

"You are cruel to come to my hill, cruel. I gorged on grief at Summerhall, I need none of yours. Begone from here, dark heart. Begone!" (Arya VIII, ASoS)

--

There is no way I can help her. I put all kin aside when I said my words. If one of my men told me his sister was in peril, I would tell him that was no concern of his. Once a man had said the words his blood was black. Black as a bastard's heart.

...

"The heart is all that matters. Do not despair, Lord Snow. Despair is a weapon of the enemy, whose name may not be spoken. Your sister is not lost to you."

"I have no sister." The words were knives. What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister?

Melisandre seemed amused. "What is her name, this little sister that you do not have?"

"Arya." His voice was hoarse. "My half-sister, truly…" (Jon VI, ADwD)

But the dark heart has another significance as well—it's a connector to Rhaegar. Robert said Rhaegar had a black heart and yet the one who made him happy enough to label the tower the tower of joy was Lyanna, who is very much so Arya's precursor.

It's the connections. They are fascinating.

[vixenvtuber]

Idk if you know or not but the pic of the house covered in flowers in the snow is tagged ai by the op

gah, lame!! i hate that this ai slop has invaded tumblr. begone, reblog. thank u for the heads up

[kuqisaki]

tetchou suehiro — ep.56 at the port in the sky pt.2

evil begone. plum blossoms in the snow!

[vonlipvig]

the thing with turnabout big top is that, while it's never gonna be a top tier case no matter how much you rewrite it, literally just changing the characters' ages slightly can make it actually bearable. cause it has things that could be good! the sheltered circus kid, the revenge plot gone wrong, the kind but ultimately cruel murderer...it's interesting! but the dumbass ages just coats it all in a disgusting, ugly way that is impossible to enjoy.

like, just do this: make regina 18/19 (she can be an adult and still be sheltered and naive), same with bat, make max 20 if you want to switch it up a bit. the only thing that has to be majorly reworked is ben, i think the romantic story there is unnecessary (quick fix: regina ends up making fun of ben's act in her usual regina way--not realizing that she's being mean and dismissive, to her she's just being constructive and helpful--and ben is obviously pissed, but he's too shy to actually speak up, so trilo ends up being his angrier, combative side. he's also pissed with max because he backed regina up, the fight ensues, etc, ben ends up out in the snow because trilo wants to 'give regina a piece of his mind', boom. there. creep begone).

and that's it! magically the weird shit is gone! sure, the case is still annoying, moe will get on your nerves, the mechanics of the murder are still too far-fetched...but was it THAT HARD to make it bearable?

[marytunno]

-read below-

Since it’s a speculation about the future I had this… weird idea… I honestly lost hope about knowing what is going to happen in twow or ados but I asked someone that knows… ( I sang her a song, I didn’t have to kiss her btw)

HIGH HEART

Something old lingered in that place, Arya could feel it into her bones as she watched her breath turn into a small cloud fading into the night. She could hear something whispering through the trees, the leaves and the howling wind having a secret conversation, the night sky dark and menacing like a bruise, no moon, no stars, only a trembling fire casting long shadows through the camp.

Something old came from the night.

She noticed her as the figure emerged from the woods, small, long white hair almost touching the ground moving along the shadows, the flame burning slower, its light shy as the ghost approached. 

Swift as a deer Arya moved from her cot, the voices turning clear as she got closer hidden like a mouse, Lem and Tom, Thoros and Beric were there too, talking with the small woman. The ghost talked about her dreams, too old for kisses and wine they said she was, dead kings, dead lords, squids, a black dog, a wolf howling in the rain… Arya felt a chill run down her spine as she tried to decode those words, riddles ancient and yet new, painting the future the ghost saw in her dreams.

A twig cracked behind Arya, she turned around startled, someone had caught her spying.

It was just Gendry, of course.

- What are you doing here?- he whispered, as if he cared about not giving Arya’s position away

- The same thing you are doing!- she snapped, her eyes still focused on the queer woman, she had red eyes like Jon’s direwolf.

He snorted and got closer - Making sure you are not running away and getting yourself killed?- 

What did he care about anyway… he had chosen the brotherhood, he was the one getting himself killed, she did not care for sure.

- I don't want to speak to you…- this time she turned around to face him, glaring at him with her silver gaze.

He scowled unsure about what to do, if Arya wanted to hate him for not being her playmate forever she could suit herself, fucking highborns.

Arya focused again on the small woman, dreams of clangor and bells, a maid slaying a giant in a castle made of snow, words that made no sense to her.

- You cannot hide from me child, come into the light…- 

Arya’s heart jumped in her chest, the voice of the ghost loud and adamant, a cold sensation at the base of Arya’s neck. The woman’s mouth opened in what once had been a smile but now resembled more a grimace, like the ones painted on mummers’ and actors’ masks.

Arya was no craven, she was brave like a wolf, she was not afraid and so she stepped from her hiding spot, Lord Beric looking at her with an indecipherable expression.

The woman studied her, her red eyes seeing inside Arya, burning through her skin. Arya breathed in the night air, she was not afraid, her eyes looking straight back at the ghost not allowing herself to look down. 

She called her a child, a wolf child, a blood child… her old hands, in anger, or fear, or folly, closed around Arya’s arm like old bones, her nails digging into Arya’s skin.

-I thought it was the lord who smelled of death…- cried the woman

-You are cruel to come to my hill, cruel. I gorged on grief at Summerhall, I need

none of yours. Begone from here, dark heart. Begone!- Arya winched, the woman’s cold grip driving blood from her, something older than fear in those unnatural eyes.

- Let her go! - Gendry’s voice thundered as he took Arya from the woman.

Arya didn’t need his help, she glared at him and opened her mouth to just say so when the ghost laughed, an unnatural laugh, like a screeching of old stones, bloodchilling.

- Let the children be… there’s no harm to them…- stepped in Thoros, his face lit by his precious flames.

- Rain is coming …- the ghost stared at the sky, her milk-white hair moving with the wind, something whispering to her, something Arya could almost feel, something as old as the north talking to the small woman.

Arya took a step back bumping into Gendry, he seemed as confused as her looking at Lord Beric for an answer, an order, an explanation.

- Old faces, old curses… nothing good comes from them…- croaked the woman 

- I can tell you what I know, boy, what the weirwood whispers to an old shadow… I can smell the blood in you, dangerous blood to have… I’ll tell what I know… my price a kiss… -

Instinctively Arya turned to look at Gendry, his expression still, like a deer faced with a hunter's arrow. 

- What? No!- he said after a second

- Don’t you want to know what blood runs in your veins, the storms that made you, the days that were and the days that will come?- continued the old figure, grief and hunger in her whole being 

-No…- continued Gendry, his hand still holding Arya’s arm 

- I don’t care about your visions!- he finally said, the flame flickered again under the wind turning almost to embers, it smelled like rain.

Staring in the dark, those ancient red eyes, Arya wondered what those eyes could really see… in dreams… in the wind…through time and space… she wasn’t scared… 

Arya had dreams too… wolf dreams… were those just her mind playing with her? 

Were the gods trying to tell her something?

- I’ll give you your song! Let them be… or Lem will keep his promise and you’ll meet with his steel… - said Tom, not a sign of his proverbial humor in his voice

The small woman kept her stance.

- Old… so old…. what a curse… It’s been so long since I have known the warmth of a kiss… I’m nothing but old bones and old flesh… You like denying an old woman of her last pleasures… pity… I have never kissed king’s blood…- 

Goosebumps on Arya’s skin, was it a curse that those who saw the future had to speak in riddles? Thoros opened his mouth as if to speak, his eyes never leaving the dying fire.

- Look in your flames pink priest… but not here… this place belongs to the old gods… not fond of your fire… you’ll see my words are right… I’m but what remains… fading like mist in the morrow…- 

Arya bit her lip, she was not scared of the crone, not like Gendry or Lem or Tom or even Thoros… she was a wolf… the old gods protected her too… and so she spoke…

- I’d kiss you to know the future, what do you see? Do i get to my family?- 

Tom coughed twice to hide his laugh, saying something about her being crazy.

- Are you gone stupid?- Gendry’s voice behind her, his hand still holding her in place close to him

She ignored him, he didn’t listen to her, not about the things that mattered, she was not going to listen to him.

- Please, my… - Arya had no idea how to address the small woman

- I need to know!- her mind thinking about Robb and mother in Riverrun, Jon at the wall, Winterfell and it’s walls so high and safe, the smell of home and food, she was so close, if it hadn’t been for the brotherhood she would have already reached them, she was sure.

- Ney! Stay away from me… I don’t need your sorrow… you smell of death… stay away!- thundered the crone 

Arya stomped her foot on the ground, like a child throwing a tantrum, she wanted to know, she needed to know what the future was holding for her. 

- I’ll stay until you talk! You’ll have to bear my smell of death until you tell me what I want!- spoke the daughter of Eddard Stark, she left Gendry behind her walking straight in front of the woman favored by the gods

The ghostly figure winced, her eyes closed, listening to the wind.

- Let her be Arya! She has already suffered a great pain! Go back with Gendry…- Lord Beric spoke 

- Ney, your Grace… too late… Child… you’ll have what you ask… and may we never meet again, dark heart!- 

Arya could feel the anger in the woman’s voice, the pain, but she wanted to know.

The storm was approaching, heavy clouds upon them carried by the wind, a silent lighting, no thunder.

- You are destined to great sorrows child, your tears will never dry on your face, I hear war cries, beasts howling, blood on their fangs and on the ground they run upon… and yet home gets further away… always a step out of reach… you’ll see through many eyes and yet all you’ll see will be death… I can hear waves crashing against waves as a giant welcomes you… and where the lights never go out I see darkness… death… and at the end, if someone comes home, wolf child, it’s no longer you…-

Arya’s nails were digging into her palm, she was a liar, a stupid liar like everyone she had met since leaving home! 

- You’ll cry tears of blood upon stone, upon snow… I see golden eyes, silver ones too… and…- 

The crone stopped for a moment, as if sniffing the air around her

- You’ll not find your family in riverrun… a different fate awaits… the twins… a promise, a vow, a wedding… you’ll never find the ones you seek…I see only death on your path beware…-

- You are a liar!- cried Arya

- I can’t change what awaits you… my eyes are not mine alone… my ears have lived a thousand different lives… If you don’t like your fate the fault is yours and of the painful road that comes… and yet… you’ll be granted something I can only dream of…- 

Arya took a step back, her heart thundering in her chest, she did not care what the small woman said, she was going to get back to her family one way or another, no matter the price.

- …you’ll see spring…- the ghost spoke as if speaking a curse  

- Now Begone! Away from this old bones!- 

- Tom, I’ll have my song, the same one…- breathed the woman putting as much distance as possible from Arya, sitting on the ground close to the singer

- Let’s get back Arya…- Gendry’s voice almost startled her

He guided her away, their backs to the fire, a sad melody filling the air.

- And boy…- they froze in their place

- You’ll soon learn the price you’ll pay for the brothers you chose… death hanging from the same trees that you’ll hide behind… orders from a heart of stone…stone… and ice… stolen steel… you’ll find one half and mend what it’s broken… a ghost of a long lost king you’ll never love… a name you’ll never have…and I can hear voices… of whom you’ll meet and of whom you have met… and as snow falls south all roads will cross again…- 

Gendry kept walking, trying to ignore those cryptic words, nothing good came of knowing one's future… for what he knew no bloody gods were whispering to the woman… and if pain and death was all she could promise it was just because they lived in a world made of those things.

- You’ll learn to listen… you’ll have the chance…sweet irony… they’ll have blue eyes… but your children will be nothing but wolves…- 

The words of the woman got lost in the wind as Tom kept playing his song, the figure now only crying holding herself and rocking back and forth. 

Arya cursed and kicked a rock while Gendry kept dragging her back away from the fire. 

- She is a liar… she is just old and crazy and wants our wine…- spat Arya, the words she had just head haunting her mind and turning into tragedy

- Of course, Arya… Don’t believe a word she just said… no one can see the future… and who says he does is a fraud like my master said ‘bout Thoros… She did not make sense… we will take you to your mum and brother no matter what!- 

Gendry tried to reason with her, looking at the anger simmering in her eyes.

- Yes… to get some gold…- she replied, cold

- I’m not doing it for the gold!- he said back

Arya said nothing and sat down in her place, her arms crossed. A light turned the sky yellow and then it bruised to black again, and as the thunder struck came rain.

Someone cursed, someone kept sleeping, only a few noticed… as she had arrived the ghost of high heart was gone… faded back to her mist and woods… 

- She was right about the rain…- spat Arya feeling the cold droplets fall on her skin

Gendry snorted 

- Aye, the sky was dark since noon and I’m sure even Anguy could smell the rain coming… Easy to see the future when it’s happening already… listen to me Arya… she is wrong… she doesn’t even know what she was talking about… like you heard all that bullshit ‘bout my blood or something… - 

- Maybe your blood is important…- she said flatly, her skin hurting where the nails of the small woman had pierced her skin

- My blood is worth shit… if they had given her some more wine she would have started calling Lem king and Tom his sweet lady of the forest…- 

The rain was pouring, Gendry’s black hair wet and sticking to his forehead, too mad to be distracted by the storm.

Arya smiled, maybe he was right, maybe the woman’s words had been that… just words… 

She had cried and prayed for death, she had killed and spilled blood… and maybe her heart was dark, full of hate and she smelled of death… but her future was going to be different… 

- Feel better?- he asked her after a few seconds ignoring Lord Beric’s squire complaining about the rain waking him up

She nodded.

- Now let’s find someplace dry to sleep in…- he said, the matter over.

They did not speak anymore of the words heard, not Arya’s curse to suffer and lose herself and what she loved, not the wedding at the Twins, not the eyes she was supposed to see through… they did not speak of wolf children nor the ghost’s dream of spring… 

Arya thanked Gendry when he gave her a dry coat; they had found shelter together with Jack and Harwin between the trees. 

- Still hate me now?- smiled Gendry stretching close enough to her 

She bit her lip. 

- Are you coming to Winterfell with me?- 

He did not answer, but she heard all she needed to hear. 

The silence hurting as much as the unspoken answers to their questions.

A troubled sleep fell on the camp, rain soaking them to the point of fever, haunted dreams in a haunted place. 

All I know is future flickers, still unwritten, but if you listen to the weirwoods on a starless night, as the wind howls tales of things that will become, if you close your eyes and let the dreams come… between all the bloodshed… and the cursed thrones and heavy crowns… between ice and fire… you’ll see a winter that must be braced to once again witness spring… you’ll see some good and some bad… and if you wait long enough you’ll see two children someday meet again.

Hope you liked it <3<3 Thank you to everyone who read and a huge thank you to everyone who made beautiful works for this appreciation week, my gendrya shipper heart was very very happy.

[meadow-of-daisies-and-lavender]

Summary: The winter ice has melted, and the spring blossoms have bloomed. But as the elders continue their tyranny over your village, your gods seemingly disappeared. Or had they? Eventual Poly 141.

A/N: Please comment and reblog. Thank you to @ethereal-night-fairy and @wildflower-and-honey for feeding my brain worms. I love you three and cannot thank y'all enough <3 Thank you, @saradika, for the beautiful dividers I use in everything.

CW: (18+) Children begone! PIV smut, swearing, a Dyslexic wrote this, Religious Kinks, some violence. Let me know if I missed anything!

NO AI

Leave a comment and reblog!

There was something in the air that had come with the visiting traders. Perhaps it was the joy of seeing fresh faces or new goods for the village, but you knew it was the change of winter melting into springtime, coaxed by the longer days and warmth of the sunshine peaking hopefully from between the rain clouds. Who couldn’t help but stretch their arms and sigh as if waking from hibernation? Even the trees reached their blossoms to the sunshine, eager to play in the rays of light, drink from the rain once more, and splash in the mud.

The melting waters came with the waking warmth, opening the trade routes in time for the Spring Festival. What once was a holy holiday to celebrate the addition of Kyle Garrick to godhood, the creation of youthful spring, was now a feast to celebrate wealth, trade, and alliances between villages.

You sat beside your neighbor, adding your dish to the feast to share, before twisting in your seat to watch the village elders light the bonfires for the evening’s celebrations. After a week of trade, your village offered a feast and celebration on the night of the holy spring festival as thanks to those who had traveled far and wide to come to the village. You only remembered the Spring Festival being a sacred holiday as a young girl. Somewhere along the way, the spring celebration had fallen from the gods and landed on mortals' laps, becoming a jovial, insignificant matter.

“Why do you look so sour?” Elder Sheppard spoke with a stern face. You would have turned, but his hand clamped down on the back of your neck, squeezing until you grit your teeth.

Elder Sheppard jostled you around like a kitten who needed scuffing. He was known for a forest fire of a temper, flaring into dangerous territory when he was the one who wanted you dead in winter.

You stumbled to your feet as he pulled you from the bench, holding you closer to his body. It was one thing for the elders to plot your murder in the wintertime, to speak ill of you until you had a reputation of a rumored curse. It was another to dehumanize you into their little doll, playing with their food until they decided it was time to eat. He shook you, squeezing your neck until you whimpered, speaking words you couldn’t make out over the ringing in your ears.

The hand disappeared as Elder Sheppard was pulled away by a trader in white, leaving you stumbling onto the table bench, shivering. You rubbed away the touch of Shepard until your skin felt hot.

A mouse had more fight than you did when Sheppard rattled you around. It was how the elders had managed to get you into the woods in the first place, even when you knew it would be your death. Being around the elders left your mind limp and your body frozen in fear, unable to breathe in the fumes of their reign, poisoning you slowly to death. A slow death was still a death- and the miracles to save you were used up and dried out.

The wind picked up as the clouds gathered overhead, threatening rain the next day. You ate silently as musicians began to play, dancers gathering around flames, emboldened by the flowing alcohol. Since winter, the elders made it known you were being watched. You were supposed to be a frozen corpse in the snow or a slaughtered woman at the hands of the gods.

Instead, you had been saved by the gods and granted a miracle of one more day alive. You had slept with the god of winter, partially in thanks, partially because you wanted to. John Price left his marks on your skin as the winter ice marked the rocks, splitting them over time. Apparently, even the gods wanted nothing to do with you now that John had his fill, leaving without a word or answered prayer over winter.

“Look!” Your neighbor gasped. Turning, you covered your mouth as Elder Sheppard hobbled from the trader in white, spitting insults at him as his broken nose gushed blood. The trader, who wore a hood and a mask, glared at the man oozing blood while he remained spotless. You quickly turned to your meal as if you saw nothing and took a drink of wine.

“He will have to leave in the morning as soon as dawn comes if he wishes to leave alive,” Your neighbor spoke. “Elder Sheppard is not a forgiving man.”

“He deserved it. A right bastard, treating people like animals on leashes like that if you ask me.”

A man’s voice from behind made you jump, nearly spilling your wine. With a sigh, you turned in your seat, looking up at the trader in white. Now, closer to the firelight, you could see the golden sparkle gliding through his gaze.

“Punching a stranger from a different village with high standings is like asking for war, trader,” You spoke, rubbing the back of your neck. “Doesn’t do much of anyone good to irritate the elder more than necessary.”

“Well, if he knows what is good for him, he’ll keep his hands off of a pretty bird like you,” The man’s eyes crinkled as if he was grinning under his mask. “Care to dance?”

“No. I only came for the food.” You stood to go home for the evening, appetite lost for the night. “Besides, you already have enough of a death wish with your hot-head actions.”

“Hot-head actions?” The man scoffed. “What he did was a right improper thing. What kind of leader treats his people like that? Yet, I’m the hot head?” The man spoke as he followed you away from the fires, his thumbs looped in his belt pockets. He walked side-by-side with you, only brushing your arm on occasion.

“It is said to be bad luck to speak ill of the elders around here, trader. A man died last winter because of it,” You scoffed, thinking of the soldier who traversed into the woods before you. “I’m lucky to be alive and do not wish it jeopardized, nor should you.”

“Pity. I heard dying is in fashion nowadays,” the man joked.

“Only for those lucky enough to be immortal,” You blandly replied. The man did not respond, deciding to pluck a blossom from a tree and examine it between his fingers. You kept walking, leaving him behind.

“I don’t remember the Spring Festival being a thing about trade.”

You rolled your eyes before stopping to respond, “It’s more lucrative to twist the meaning to bring trade opportunities in. They believe the old gods are dead, and only the new god of power reigns over their hearts and minds.”

“And do you, Fawn, believe the old gods are dead?” The trader spoke, making you squint in the darkness. You hadn’t been called Fawn since...

Tears welled in your eyes, and you unexpectedly felt your stomach drop. The whisper of John’s care still hovered in the memory of your body, keeping you awake and praying for his return. You had tried returning to the woods so many times over winter. But the elders were always there, watching and waiting for your failures. Your prayers echoed in the temple's vaults, responding in a puppet of your voice, mocking you. The gods had gone silent. For whatever reason, they did not want you anymore, casting you aside to deal with your mortal issues alone.

“There,” You swallowed thickly before clearing your throat. “There is a difference between the gods being dead and the gods not caring. Why should the gods not care for what has not cared for them?”

You furiously wiped at your eyes with your sleeve. Your village did not care for your gods anymore, but did it mean nothing that you still cared for them? That you still prayed nightly to John, Kyle, Ghost, and Johnny? That you tended to your altar within your home out of your love for them? Was it all for naught?

“Have you stopped caring for us, Fawn?” The man whispered.

Whirling around, the man had removed his hood and mask to reveal the god of spring, Kyle. His brow was knit low, the bud he had picked now plucked to parts on the road by his boots, and the golden sunshine in his eyes dark to match the reflection of the moonlight. Memories of waking in the north and east gods' presence were cloudy. Of Gaz, you only recalled his bright grin and his brown eyes. The shapes had gone fuzzy in your recollections, lost to time.

“I,” You paused as a light flickered in the distance, growing larger as the shape of an elder grew, walking down the road. Kyle turned, huffing once he caught what you saw.

“You would think your village elders had nothing better to do,” He huffed, placing a gentle hand on your lower back.

“They won’t bother me at home. I’ll make you some tea,” You offered, slipping your hand over his bicep and guiding him to your little home.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” You confessed as you deposited your muddy boots on the porch of your home. “I haven’t heard from you since winter, not even John.” You opened your door and began to busy yourself with illuminating the space.

“John wanted us to wait for you to come to us. He didn’t want us to overwhelm you,” Kyle mentioned as he followed suit, removing his boots. Standing, he moved to enter before pausing, holding the inside of your doorframe.

“What’s wrong?” You questioned, shucking off your outerwear.

“Well,” Kyle chuckled, fingers tapping along the oak, feeling the smooth surface. “We were waiting for you to come to us, but we never saw you enter the woods without the elders following you. And it seems whatever prayers you prayed had been blocked by… this.”

He tapped the top of the corner frame, where a very small sigil had been quickly etched into the frame. It was sloppy, the smooth curves of letters jagged in the rush. Such magic practices were unfamiliar to you but not unfamiliar to your people. However, very few still practiced the magic.

“It is made to keep anything from the spiritual realm out. Prayers, offerings, ancestors, everything is cast out,” Kyle informed you. “Even the fuckin’ gods.” Kyle reached into his belt, pulled out a knife, and whittled away the sigil until it was a scarred, scratched patch of splinters.

“I didn’t do that,” You muttered, fingers hovering over the spot. “Such magic must be an old practice if it works.”

“And it works all right,” Kyle spoke as he crossed the threshold, a gust of fresh air following him into the home. It was as if you had opened all the windows to chase away the stagnant build-up of air, a sudden wash of rejuvenation breathing new life into your space.

Glancing at Kyle, who had entered your home and leaned on the closed door, savoring the fresh air with his eyes closed, you couldn’t help but admire the scars on his cheeks and his tilted smile. You took a step forward, fingers itching to touch his cheek, to trace the plush swell of his lip and the divots of scars to the bridge of his nose. His eyes flickered open, and you froze, heat gathering on your neck. Stepping back, you retreated into the kitchen, rubbing your cheeks.

You loved the gods as a devotee. Out of that love, you let the god of winter, John Price, kiss your skin and cradle your love in his hand as if porcelain. Setting the kettle to boil, you jumped as Kyle settled his hands on your hips, but he waited to see if you would step away before slowly pressing his chest to your back.

“If we had realized the elders were keeping you from us, we would have done something,” Kyle confessed, lips moving as he spoke against your neck. “Price thought you wanted nothing of us after having you in our bed. That didn’t make sense to me, so I came to find you; figure out what’s happening.”

“Wanted nothing to do with you?” You scoffed, turning in his arms. “That’s the most absurd thing I’ve heard.”

Kyle chuckled, squeezing your hips. You reached to cup his cheek, finally being able to brush your fingers over his scars. He melted into your touch, his shoulders hunching as if the world's weight had been shucked from him.

“That’s why I came to see for myself, Fawn,” he grinned, pulling you closer. “We can’t let you slip that easily.”

“We?” You questioned, leaning closer to his face.

“We. Who do you think allowed me to go?” Kyle’s eyes drifted down to your mouth, and he leaned closer.

“I didn’t realize it was a group decision,” You breathed.

“It’s always a group decision, love,” Kyle brushed his nose against yours before kissing you softly.

Kyle kissed you as if committing the taste of your flesh into his memory, unrushed and slow. He did not bother to move his hands when yours traced his shoulders and biceps and scratched the back of his head, urging him to devour you. He seemed fearless of the coming dawn, blind to time and her urgency.

Coaxed by his ease and gentleness, your impatience soon melted away. Becoming lax in his arms, you conceded to follow his pace.  His hand slowly slid lower on your hips, reverently smoothing over the bumps of fabric and fat to palm your ass. Your hips jilted forward, bumping into his, making you moan as he swiveled his hips teasingly against yours.

“Fucking, take me to bed already, Kyle,” You huffed playfully against his mouth.

“I don’t know where your bed is, love. Your home, not mine,” Kyle teased back. You rolled your eyes, making him chuckle as he took your hand to follow you into the bedroom. He removed his clothes as you removed yours, eyes darkening as he took in your form.

Asking you to lay on your back, he kissed down your neck, reverently cupping your tits in his hand. He did not pinch or twist; he simply squeezed and caressed the softness in his hands. You rubbed your thighs together, but he settled between them, forcing your wetness to drip down and cool your aching cunt.

“Kyle, please, hurry up!” You huffed, tugging at his short curls.

“Fawn, we have all night,” the god of the north grinned, nipping at your nipple. “Let me enjoy you.”

“What if I’m not enjoying your teasing?” You countered, mouth dropping as his hands covered the icy scars of John’s creation over your womb just as he sucked at the sensitive side of your neck.

“Tell me you aren’t enjoying my mouth on your body, Fawn,” Kyle goaded into your ear, dropping his hips to grind his length against your wetness. He grunted, letting out a moan in your ear. “But it doesn’t seem like you hate this, love.”

No, you did love it. Reaching to grip his pert ass, you tried to coax him inside your cunt, but he swatted your hands away, pushing you up the bed as he spread your legs even wider. Staring intensely at your cunt, he licked his lips, easing a leg over his shoulder.

It tickled as he brushed his lips over the inside of your ankle, made you shiver as he licked the back of your knee, had your hips bucking by the time he sucked the skin of your thighs into his mouth, biting the flesh or rolling his tongue against it.

The only reason for your existence was to give his mouth your supple flesh to consume and drink from. His hips shuttered against the sheets as he ground his cock into the mattress, his back and hip muscles rippling with the motion. You moaned, throwing your head back into the pillows and pushing your hips against his cheek.

“Absolutely soaked for me, aren’t you, Fawn?” Kyle hummed as he dragged his tongue over your pussy, drinking you up. He avoided your clit, deciding to agonizingly insert a finger into your heat, rubbing against your walls until you relaxed enough for a second finger.

“I want to suck your cock, Kyle,” You whined, gasping as his other hand rubbed circles on your clit. “Probably as pretty as the rest of you,” You babbled, thinking about being on your knees for him, reducing him into as much of a flustered mess as you were at the moment.

Quietly, you heard the shlack, shlack, shlack of him fisting his cock before he licked at your cunt. Squealing, your bucked hips were shoved back to the bed as he wrapped his arm around your body to anchor you to him. With one hand around his cock, and one now playing with your clit as he ate you out, you gushed, knowing your wetness was wrapped around his cock.

“Are you going to cum all over your hand for me? I want to see you cum- so good,” You couldn’t stop talking, rolling your hips in time to his hand around his cock. “Shit, I’m,” You groaned, grabbing the back of his head, but just as you neared your orgasm, he pulled away, panting into your thigh.

Your body dissolved into the bed with a frustrated squeal, your cunt still pulsing for attention. You sputtered out curses at Kyle before feeling him hoist your legs in his arms and pull you down the bed to his waiting mouth, building you back up.

Over and over again, he teased you. Bringing you to the brink of the edge, he’d ruin your orgasm until you were babbling and thrashing beneath him. Finally, as he sucked your clit and pushed three fingers inside your cunt, he pressed down on your lower stomach. He let you cum then, bursting and gushing with a cry over his hands, feeling a very small stream of liquid escaping you.

Ears ringing, you went limp, feeling your pussy pulse with distant contractions. Your chest rose and fell with each pant as Kyle gingerly set your legs on the bed, rubbing at your sore thighs.

“Feel good, Fawn?” He whispered, leaning down to kiss your temple and brush his nose against yours. You nodded, letting your heavy eyelids fall, sinking into blissful warmth.

Kyle had fucked you before he left that morning, entwining his arms with yours as he worked his cock in from behind, spooning you in the morning hours. After, he fed you berries and nuts from his altar, which you had chastised him for.

“What’s the point if I can’t share?” He countered. “Besides, I don’t want them to go to waste when you need energy after last night.”

You had managed to wobble out to the door to see him off, kissing him one last time before he tugged up his white mask, making his way north to his woods. The birds sang from the blooming trees, and even with the morning chill, you couldn’t help but melt against the doorframe and inhale, exhaling into the stillness of the morning dew.

But even in the stillness of the morning darkness, tinged with the dusty blues of dawn’s hatching, you could feel the eyes of another raking over your skin. Peering down the road, you glared at a neighbor staring intensely at you from their porch and returned inside your home for more rest, knowing the elders would hear of your guest by sunup.

When you were woken by the mid-morning sun, you were not surprised to discover your arms wrapped in silver scars shaped like ivy and vines, the god of Spring, marking you as his.

a/n: Please comment and reblog!

[1eos]

Hey, I’ll let any racist white women who want my black sperm have it as long as they let me smash their 🐱. One of my most proudest moments in my life was smashing a white girl who was the direct descendant of a Confederate general. To be honest, she’s still mad that I don’t want to date her.

i know a white person typed this out and hit send bc a real snow bunny worshipper would NEVER say his unmelanated kweens are racist as a fact and would take the opportunity to call me a jealous black bitch. now take the creative writing exercises elsewhere and BEGONE CRACKER

[aoyama-division]

Happy Halloween from Jet Set Trio

Tomi - Snow Fox/Shinigami

"...Why do I keep making the mistake of playing cards with my younger brother, knowing full well he's far better than me? As if this blasted outfit he had me wear wasn't embarrassing enough, he insisted on making me use paint to make it look more 'real'. ...Oh well. At least this sword looks authentic and real enough. Maybe I can use it to decimate some of those people whom I've trouble with as of late. Starting with a certain 'black cat' who lives here in Minato..."

"...Hmm? What are you looking at peasant? Is there something you want? Here for candy, no doubt. Fine, take this and begone with you. ...And so help you if you left that wretched woman know I'm coming..."

You received a treat!

Frosted Souls. Despite the overbearing name, there are really just mint-flavored candies with a cool, icy exterior. ...Though you do feel a sorta coldness in your soul as you devour the treat.

Karada - Oni

"...You. What are you doing here? Don't you know it's a demon world, maggot? Since you're going to die soon anyway, why not right now?!"

"...Haha! What do you think? Pretty real, right? I made sure to get my costume done early this year since I didn't want a repeat of last year. ...Maybe I should have worn a shirt, though. It's cold out here. ...Oh well! Anyway, here take these, dude! Have a good, spooky night!

You received a treat!

Demon's Delight. Spicy cinnamon candies that tastes a little like what you imagine Heaven to be... but burn like Hell as they enter your gullet. Fitting they represent an Oni well.

Luis - Ninja

"...Don't ask, okay? *Sighs* ...Look, it's no secret that I've not really watched anime before until recently. What with Kanra, Shian, Reiaki, Kaoru, and so many others begging me to put anime designs on all of their cakes, I've had to familiarize myself with so many different types of anime. The one kind of anime I've started to get into is the one involving ninja. ...What was it called? ...No, it's not the one about the kid who has a fox demon in him, although that is a good one."

"...Oh yeah. It's called Basilisk ~Ōka Ninpō Chō~. I'm still on season one, but it's pretty interesting so far. But anyway, that show inspired me to buy my own ninja outfit, and... well, this was the result. I think I did pretty well, all things considered. Anyway, here. Happy Halloween and all that. Have a good, safe night."

You received a treat!

Ninja Smoke Bombs. Fitting to the name, the moment you put this candy in your mouth, you fill a 'popping' sensation as the candy pops every part of your mouth. How unexpected, yet fitting for a ninja.

[pipartuuli]

Since I was mentioning how much I love the song, I wanted to do a mini-dissection of "Could This Be The End" from Brendon Small's Galaktikon II! I know there are some different interpretations of the lyrics and perspectives of who's singing what, so I'm throwing mine into the arena!

Key:

Salacia/The Tribunal in green

Dethklok in red

The Storm/The Army of the Doomstar in Orange

Narrator/Muse/Third Person in blue

Thoughts in italics

(NOTE: This dissection inherently relies on Galaktikon II being a continuation of Metalocalypse. I know it's "not" [wink wink] because of all the AS shit that happened in the 2010s but like... let's be real. This is Metalocalypse.)

We got The Storm* coming in now

And they’re almost in range

And we’re cloaked in white silence

In the valley of the Falcon’s rage**

[This one is from the perspective of the Tribunal/Salacia, lying in wait in the arctic snow with Falconback. It’s likely they already have Dethklok captured and strapped into Falconback by this point.

* “The Storm” here refers to The Army of the Doomstar (the fans) as indicated in G2’s version of the call-to-action “Song of Salvation” equivalent, “Become the Storm”, and as sung from the perspective of The Whale Prophet/Goddess in “The Ocean Galaktik” in which she says they are the elements (rain, stardust, etc.)

** I believe the lyrics on Genius have this listed as “range”, but I don’t think Brendon rhymed “range” with “range”. I just don’t. Fight me if you want, but Genius is just wrong.]

(But we wait)

Gotta wait for the first wave

(Breach the gate)

And you can see the Storm is closer now

(Thunder blast)

It’s a lightning infestation

(Light the match)

And we’ll kick ‘em where they stand

[This one is a back and forth between Salacia’s minions (in parentheses) and Salacia giving them orders – he’s using his very classic “we must wait” line here! At the end of this section, with the “light the match” line, that’s probably where Falconback is started up.]

Could this be the end?

Time is terminated

Could this be the end?

[This one is Dethklok, likely beginning to feel the fear as Falconback is whirring to life with them in it. They’re out of time.]

 

(Punch the code)

Now we get the Falcon flying now

(Lock and load)

The Star is getting nearer

(Spin the wheel)

It’s a coffin for them all

(Make them kneel)

Submit or begone!

[Another back and forth between Salacia and his minions. The Doomstar is reaching its zenith and Falconback is really starting to centrifuge!]

Whoa-oh-oh-whoa

(Whoa Whoa-oa-oa)

[Dethklok, now REALLY getting scared, almost mournful. Specifically, I think this is Skwisgaar and Toki. Their vocals layered is similar to how their guitar tracks are layered.]

I can’t see you

I can’t break through

Surprise – me too

It’s down to you

[Still Dethklok – they’re trying to break free of Falconback, but no luck. I believe each of these lines is being sung by different band members. I have SUPER loose reasoning, and this is more what’s in my heart than being from any real evidence in the song, but here we go:

- I can’t see you (Pickles – by process of elimination; see the rest)

- I can’t break through (Skwisgaar – I swear I can hear a very subtle “s” at the end of that can’t(s)…)

- Surprise – me too (Toki – just… seems like a Toki thing to say, and the slight vibrato in the ‘whoa!’ kind of reminds me of how Brendon did his vocals in DSR.)

- It’s down to you (I’m very torn between this being Murderface or Nathan. I think it makes the most sense from the perspective of the story for this to be Murderface pleading with Nathan that everything rests on him – because everything in Metalocalypse ALWAYS rests on Nathan, and that’s what we see in AOTD with Nathan throwing himself into the beam to disrupt Falconback. HOWEVER, the next line in the song REALLY songs like it has a lisp in it, which would perhaps make this Nathan instead pleading with Murderface? Which I like – the band saves Murderface, and Murderface saves the band! Perhaps this is his “throwing a snowball at Salacia” moment?? Either interpretation is valid; I waffle back and forth all the time.]

Yea-ea-eah, we are the dust* from stars now

Yea-ea-eah, we know we own the light

Yea-ea-eah, we break** the atmosphere now

Yea-ea-eah, the end is in our sights!

[*Okay, THIS is where I swear I can hear a lisp – it sounds like “duscht”, which would be a callback to “My Name Is Murder” in which he says “you’ll burn to duscht”. This is why I think the previous section has Nathan telling Murderface to save them.

**I think Genius says this word is “bring”, but “break” makes more sense to me. Either or.

Dethklok again here! The “we know we own the light” implies that they’ve managed to wrest back the Dethlights for themselves – or at least they’re fighting back to do so! I’m not sure if all of them are freed at this point, but there’s hope in this verse. Falconback is starting to crumble, or it’s not siphoning off the Doomstar’s Dethlights like Salacia had hoped it would. Dethklok is fighting back.]

Whoa-oh-oh-whoa

(Whoa Whoa-oa-oa)

[Dethklok again. Toki and Skwisgaar at first, but more voices join in on this one – it’s all of them.]

The centrifuge is spinning

And the Star draws its path

The five choose to sacrifice

This darkened magnetized wrath

And the demon is descending

Closer to its host

The metal core keeps spinning

While the Storm holds the coast

[I think this is the first section we get from the Army of the Doomstar’s perspective! They’re watching Dethklok in Falconback from their spot along the shoreline where they’ve arrived to battle Salacia’s army. They’re trying to reach Dethklok.]

Whoa-oah, leave their souls!

We were always meant to go

Whoa-oah, let it be

One last strike with our sword!

See* them call the light

We must die but we lived our lives

[*Genius has this listed as “save”, but I think it’s “see” – the Army is watching Dethklok struggling to take the Dethlights back from Salacia. Unlike in AoTD, they don’t break out of Falconback in G2 – they simply siphon away the Dethlights for their own use by using the Army as a conduit – an amplifier.

Another one from the perspective of the Army, and I think specifically the first four lines are Offdensen! He knows the fans are worried about Dethklok in peril, but he’s reassuring everyone that everyone present is carrying out the roles that they are destined to carry out. Dethklok are sacrificing themselves for the planet, and now it’s the Army’s turn to do the same. The final two lines with the layered vocals are from the perspective of the entire Army. They’re ready to die for Dethklok – and for Earth. This is the “open hand” scene – they’re letting the Dethlights pass through them. There are so many more of them than there are of Salacia’s army that they’re quickly overpowering Falconback.]

Could this be the end? (Yeah)

Could this be the end? (Whoa-oa)

Could this be the end?

[Dethklok again – it has to be terrifying to be filled with the Dethlights. AoTD showed us it doesn’t exactly FEEL great, so maybe they really do feel like they’re ripping apart and burning alive as the lights fill them and Falconback begins to buckle under their power.]

Falcon screams

Mechanics melting white

The demon Star moves closer

Shooting flaming bloody light

[I think this is from the perspective of a general “narrator”, or “muse” – this is a third party description of what’s happening. Falconback can’t handle the Dethlights as Dethklok powers up – it’s starting to melt. The Doomstar is at its zenith now. The Army of the Doomstar is filled with light, directing it all to Dethklok.]

The Lights of Deth

Have built to their strength

The pentagram of power

Keeps the demon away

[Salacia can’t take hold of the Dethlights for himself because of the POWER OF FRIENDSHIP!]

The Star and the planet

And the universe quake

The Storm builds in fury

Crushing death in its wake

[Dethklok and the Army are winning. Salacia’s army has fallen.]

We left ourselves behind

And we looked within

We know that we must die

But for now – we live!

[Back to Dethklok – this is their victory cry! As Falconback completely crumbles and Salacia is vaporized by the Dethlights, Dethklok are flung free. They reached with their open hand to their friends, family, and fans, and because of it, they were victorious. They trusted and loved, and because of it, they lived.

And this is where my hot takes come in.

I know a lot of people take this part of the song to mean that Dethklok have shed their mortal flesh and become full-fledged gods, but I don’t think that aligns with the message of Metalocalypse. Metalocalypse is about the strength and power normal, mortal humans can have when they band together and show each other love and compassion (hand versus fist, do it all for my brother, etc.) I think this last line here is very literal – Dethklok was ready to die, and because they're just regular ol' humans, one day they will. Hell, they've come closer to death than a LOT of people MANY times. But today isn't that day. For now, they live.]

Alright! (x4)

WE LIVE!

[This is everyone left alive – Dethklok and the Army, all of them alike – celebrating. They’ve taken back their planet! I love how calm and simple the music becomes during the “alright”s after the mounting pressure and cacophony of the previous verses. You can really get a sense of Dethklok standing there in the snow, terrified and confused as all hell about what’s just happened, looking up to see the Army of the Doomstar rushing towards them full of wild excitement, Nathan pumping his fist into the air as in the final moment of AoTD to give that one last “WE LIVE!” It’s got such a celebratory feel!]

Could this be the end? (x4)

[Dethklok again. Unlike the other times this is sung in the song, here it’s being asked to mean “is the evil really gone? Is it all over?” They’re in disbelief, after everything they’ve been through, that five pampered idiot rockstars like them – along with the Army – really managed to pull off saving the entire world from the apocalypse.]

...

Anyway, uh, I banged this out after several consecutive nights of not enough sleep and after downing WAY too much caffeine, so apologies for any incoherencies or mistakes. I just... I just love this song so much. :3