#dancing windstorm

[lars-canyon]

GBVSR – 02-01-24 – Fennel (Vira/Grimnir/Nier) vs Wysteir [Yuel]

Another Sky Dancing Windstorm and Dance of a Thousand Years on Lumacie

[just-some-user-hunny]

Grey ghost as your dragon ...

. Grey ghost was a considerably shy dragon.

Although shy may not be the right word to describe him, more like introverted and prone to avoiding people. He isn't particularly fond of the ruckus that humans make. They're so noisy, and nosy.

. Cattle would disappear in the hours of daylight, often in days of heavy fog and engulfing dark clouds. All common folk know to herd in their livestock on particularly cloudy/foggy days as to dissuade the grey ghost from paying them a visit.

. Befitting his name, he hides in the clouds. shrouded with silver and dark shadow as he soars silently upon the wind like a haunting phantom, the beat of his wings like a windstorm or hurricane.

. He's a very silent flyer. Arguably the quietest dragon out of all of them. He drifts and skulks like a ghost.

. His wildness is that of a bird of prey. Poised and exact, silent and puffed with pride. If he were to bond with you, you'd get to delve more into his guarded personality. He's mostly withdrawn, but he certainly wouldn't mind your company.

. Humans, to him, are both predator and prey. He's seen what they are capable of, seen how the dragon-lords have captured and saddled his kind. At first he would be very hesitant of you, shying away and flying off whenever he was given the chance, but no matter how often he hid from you, he was never too far. You'll swear you can see him on the corner of your eye whenever your sights are set to the sky. You'll hear the beat of his wings as he'd silently cruise in the sky over your head, watching you. Observing you.

. Bonding with this wild dragon would take patience and delicacy, but once you were granted his precious trust? Oh he would be all over you.

. His leathery pale wings are worn from constant flight, so he would love whatever pampering you'd give him. Soothing Salves upon the aching muscles of his wings, cleaning his silvery scales around his face, or simply allowing him to sleep with his head nestled close to you or in your lap, he'd be a happy dragon. Humans have always been off limits to him, so he's exploring this side of humanity. The goodness. The kindness. The pack bonding that they seem to hold for anything and everything. You're his experience.

. He loves flying with you. He'd not even mind the saddle, almost eagerly letting you fasten the dragon-saddle upon him as he impatiently awaits for you to clamber on so he can show you how high he can soar. Be warned however- he's going to test you. See how high or fast you can tolerate his dance in the air, how much courage his little human has, and how worthy they are of riding him.

Be mindful to hold on tight to the reigns, you're going to need it.

. He'll take you over deep oceans, vast forests and treacherous mountains. He'll take you to the stars and the moon, fly you as close to the heavens that you can possibly reach your whilst within in your mortal body. He especially loves flying through billowing storm clouds and rainclouds. The rush of wind under his wings, the fresh cool rain on his scales, and the claps of thunder that makes his heart skip a beat. You may return from your flights a little drenched and shivering, but it'd be so worth it.

. He would probably not tolerate the dragon pits. He hates the confinement, and the thought of being cramped in there with other bulky dragons. All growling and huffing and bellowing fire, stepping on tails and talons. He's a solitary creature. Grey ghost likes the company of himself and you.

. Instead he would find a perch nearby. A cave perhaps, or a nice spot near the shoreline. He likes the bubbling seafoam and the glittering silver fish in the water.

. He loves seeing you every morning. When you leave the castle grounds, there you will find him. perched upon a cliffy hillside, or perhaps near the tide pools- his dark silver scales shimmering with seaspray. Your greetings are often reciprocated with a huff or a bellow of smoke, before he nestles his neck and wing down for you to climb upon his back.

. If you are bonded with him, it is possible you share a common interest. Perhaps you harbour some introverted tendencies, or maybe you are a little shy and anxious. You could also just want to go against the grain and do things at your own pace and style, whatever the case, you will both see a part of yourselves in one another. He gets it- he understands. Loud noises, gossip, prodding words and eyes- they're all too much. He'll take you to the tranquility of the clouds and stars, and he'll be your greatest strength and protection- just like you are his greatest peace and joy.

[tossawary]

Honestly, I don't think the Ents were scary enough in the LOTR Jackson films when they attacked Isengard. Like, it's great! It is great! It was amazing to see the first time; the effects are incredible for their time and they still hold up pretty well! I don't need to be told that they had various animation limitations. (More size variation in the Ents could have been nice. They could have been even bigger. But animation limitations and time constraints and such, I know!)

It's just that a lot of the camera shots were looking down on the battle (they're using bigatures and such, I know), so the Ents looked tiny, stomping on tinier orcs, or the camera is sitting with Merry and Pippin on Treebeard's shoulders, and that angle doesn't really get across how HUGE and NON-HUMAN trees are. I think the best shots in this battle sequence are the ones from the perspective of the orcs, where it's just utter chaos, and then some walking tree appears out of nowhere and it's ANGRY WITH YOU. Ideally, I think it would have been great if the storyboarding had leaned more into that bewildered and terrified human perspective more, getting more into the dirt of things, before then zooming out for the overview of the Ents overtaking Isengard for the end of the sequence. The boarding in the film does a lot of jumping in and out in regards to size and what's happening.

Like, have you ever been next to a massive tree in a windstorm? The sort that looms over the roofs of houses? When the whole tree starts swaying in the wind, hundreds of branches twisting like some kind of tentacled beast? And the rustling starts to sound like a dull roar? And you think to yourself, "Oh, if that tall tree ever goes down, it is taking that entire house down with it, cracking open the roof and bashing down the walls. It would smash that car flat. It would crush me easily and I don't even know how I would begin to get out of its way as it falls, because its branches and leaves would just swallow me."

And if you're ever in a heavily wooded area during a windstorm, it's even worse, because the old trees all around you are bending and shaking like they're about to pull up their roots and start walking. Like, you didn't forget that they're alive, did you? And it's beautiful, of course, but it's also dangerous. It looks like they're dancing in their own way, but the amount of wood being thrown around means that one good branch breaking could seriously hurt someone. And it's just a branch to the tree, the tree might be fine, it might just grow another, but that branch could easily be longer and heavier than a person.

It is cool to see all of the other Ents coming out of the woods to back Treebeard up and then go marching forward. But it does raise the question of "Wait, how did the other Ents get there so fast? Aren't they kind of slow?" (If there is lore explaining this, general movie audiences will not know it.) So, it would be fun if Treebeard made his call and the dramatic speech, all alone, and then we could cut away, so we have the plausible deniability of a time skip. There's also the tension of: "Oh, no, is Treebeard going to attack Isengard alone?"

And THEN we could pick back up with orcs on the walls of Isengard, boredly watching the industry below, before the ground starts shaking and the stone beneath their feet cracks. And a huge shadow looms over the wall as a MASSIVE TREE climbs over, basically falling over, and letting its sheer weight take down everything in its path. Followed by dozens more of these creatures. Making the machinery of Isengard look and all the orcs within feel very, VERY small.

If Ents are ever depicted again in any visual adaptation, even an illustrated version of the novel or a graphic novel, I feel like it should be a goal to really capture that feeling of being small and mortal by comparison. Some of the earlier interactions with Merry and Pippin and Treebeard get this feeling well enough. The LOTR films are over and done, obviously, and they did pretty well. But it could be better! I want to LEAN into those moments of smallness just a little more in future adaptations of Middle Earth. I would love to keep the camera LOW as much as possible and utilize advancements like more detailed models and better leaf animation. (Like hair, leaves are hard!)

We are not the Ents here. We are just witnessing them. You have to go out into a forest and ask yourself, "What WOULD it be like if trees walked around me?"

[incorrectbatfam]

Dick: You never dance?

Tim: I'm told that I look like a marionette in a windstorm.

[yummycastiel]

''The Dreamer'' Aemond Targaryen x OC

summary: Daenys Velaryon, the brown-haired third child of Rhaenyra and Laenor, travels to King's Landing with her family to visit the King, her grandfather, and to witness Jacaerys' and Baela's wedding. As tensions between house Targaryen rise, Daenys and Aemond cross paths once again, and the prince discovers an annoying attraction to the Velaryon girl. (AU where the Dance doesn't happen because I said so and I just wanted to write an Aemond fanfic that isn't too complicated lol). This is part 1 of a fic in the works so comment if ur down for chapter 2! (SERIES MASTERLIST HERE)

a/n: Yeah so while I AM team black, house of the dragon has me OBSESSED with Aemond, like i mean, i have an unhealthy obsession with this man. i decided to write a fanfic to indulge myself but i hope anyone reading this enjoys!

warning for targaryen incest: i have never written incest before, nor am i cool with it, but since house of the dragon aired i guess we all have decided to not really care about a fantasy family doing fantasy incest but i guess i need to put a warning for anyone who isn't down for it. it is what it is!

Enjoy :)

~~~

Daenys.

Daenys Velaryon felt the wind blowing through her brown hair as she rode atop her dragon, Aegarax, and she watched as the Red Keep grew bigger and bigger as she approached it at a quick pace. Daenys almost wanted to keep on flying, but she resisted the urge as her dragon lowered her to the ground steadily. Since she could remember, flying with Aegarax was her favorite thing in the world. She had decided at an early age that if she could ride dragon back forever as opposed to walking, she would. Daenys knew that this was due to her bond with the black dragon, who had been hatched the same day she was born. Her mother, Rhaenyra, had a dragon egg brought to her to sleep next to every night while pregnant with Daenys to secure a dragon for her daughter before she was even born. Since birth, Daenys and Aegarax had been united, dragon and rider sharing the same sensations and thoughts, telepathically connected. Daenys would die for her dragon, who she named after one of the gods of old Valyria, and watched as the onyx-colored dragon grew, which he did at a faster pace than more dragons, to the point where he was almost as big as Syrax. Aegarax was strong, formidable, and Daenys loved him.

Aegarax descended, giant wings beating down on the ground like a windstorm, and Daenys saw Lucerys and Jacaerys arrive on their own dragons. The dragon keepers approached the three dragons, welcoming them back to the Dragon Pit. As Daenys dropped down from her saddle, she turned to stroke Aegarax with a loving hand.

‘’I’ll see you soon.’’ She promised whispering as if the dragon could respond, but in a way he did, because he gave her a nudge with his huge snout, almost pushing her over. The girl giggled but was interrupted by a voice that startled her out of her thoughts.

‘’That’s a gorgeous beast.’’ The low, calm voice drifted through the air. Daenys and her older brothers whipped around to see a tall, silver-haired man with an eye-patch covering his left eye standing at the door to the dragon pit, one hand resting on a sheathed sword. He was staring at Daenys and her brothers intently, his one violet eye wide and menacing.

‘’Aemond.’’ Lucerys greeted in a less-than friendly tone. As the dragon keepers led their dragons away, the three Velaryon sibling approached their uncle cautiously, no love lost between the boys and the older Targaryen. Daenys sized him up. He was no longer a boy like she remembered, but a man, tall, svelte, with strong shoulders. He was carrying himself with an air of aloofness, his stoic face giving no emotion away.

Daenys was years younger than her uncle, but she remembered growing up alongside him, and remembered when he had lost his eye. She was quite young, around 5 years old, but she recalled the drama that occurred, how Aemond refused to stay in bed to heal, instead deciding to continue his sword training skills with Criston Cole. Daenys had been too young then to understand the bitter schism between Alicent Hightower’s family and Rhaenyra’s, and she decided to become Aemond’s little shadow. She followed him around, watching as he trained, listening to him read out from the history books to her, and sat next to him during dinner. He seemed to enjoy the company, from what she remembered, as she noticed he was estranged from his brother and the other boys. As she got a bit older, she could acknowledge that she had a little childhood crush on the boy, but as she grew even more aware of the hostility between their ‘’sides’’ she knew that that was all it would ever be. Yet, she still decided to be friendly with the older boy, not caring about his disfigured face and missing eye. As an older girl now, she wondered why Aemond had tolerated her, seeing as he despised her brothers, Luke and Jace, due to their alleged bastard-nature that Alicent had brain washed him to believe.

The issue of her and her sibling’s birth, was known to her. Harwin Strong was their father, but they still were Targaryens through and through, and she never doubted that for a second. They shared the same father, Laenor, who was now dead. While the cruel jokes and taunts about them being bastards bothered her brothers, Daenys never seemed to care that much. She refused to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her react in any way to the ‘’baseless’’ lies. She had Valyrian blood either way.

Now she had come face to face with her uncle Aemond, older, and so different. The awkward, shy boy from her youth was no longer, but instead he stood quite tall, long silver hair draped over his shoulders. His face was lean, narrow, his strong chin pursing his lips into a permanent smirk. His face, while still scarred, more handsome than Daenys wanted to admit. His eye glittered in the dim light of the Dragon Pit as his eyes settled on her.

‘’Nephews…niece.’’ He greeted, giving her a wry little smile. Daenys bit her lip, suddenly very conscious of not knowing what to do with her hands. She began to wring them nervously, much like her mother did.

‘’Uncle.’’ Was all she returned. Aemond took a step towards her, which did not go unnoticed by Jace, who proceeded to stand in front of her protectively. Aemond’s eye narrowed but he froze.

‘’You and your dragon have grown splendidly since I last saw you.’’ The prince mused.

‘’Thank you, Your Grace.’’ Daenys managed, not sure where the conversation was going or why Aemond was paying her so much attention. As if he could read her mind, Aemond’s eyes turned to her brothers.

‘’Dear nephews,’’ He began in a taunting tone, ‘’You haven’t changed a bit since I last saw you both. Mayhaps you look a bit more strong.’’ Their uncle chuckled as he watched Jace and Luke bristle at his words. Daenys rolled his eyes. Evidently the prince liked wordplay.

‘’Let’s go,’’ She muttered, pulling at Jace’s sleeve, ‘’We don’t have time for this.’’ Luke and Jace obliged, giving Aemond a dirty look, but as they passed by their uncle Daenys tried her best to avoid his gaze as she was intently aware that he was staring at her. She risked a glance at the older man and as soon as she confirmed that he was indeed studying her, looking at her, like she was the first woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Her first instinct was to look away, but she met his gaze and without meaning to she smiled at him. Aemond’s eyebrow raised, his eye changing from a look of smugness to a softer, more surprised look. Daenys looked away immediately to follow Luke and Jace out of the Dragon Pit to meet their mother in the Keep, too afraid to look back at the prince.

Aemond.

To say Aemond was a little more pleased than he should be to see the arrivals of his nephews was an understatement. While he was expecting to see Jacareys and Lucerys, the Strong bastards he had a deep dislike for, he was surprised to see Daenys, his bastard niece, jump from her great black dragon. He realized that he had completely forgotten about her, as many years had passed since he’d last seen her, but now that he looked at her every memory came rushing back.

The prince recalled how he would read to her in the library as children, how she’d laugh at his witless jokes, and watch as he trained with Ser Criston. She had never failed to make his day better in their youth, even after the bitter loss of his eye. Daenys had been ecstatic to find out he had claimed Vhagar. Aemond chuckled to remember how she had begged him to take her for a ride on Vhagar’s back, but at the time Aemond had been too scared to take her up with him, for fear of an accident happening. Other than his sister, Daenys had been the only family member he liked being around. He didn’t even seem to recall the fact that she too was a bastard, like her brothers. Her sweet nature as a child must have won him over. But she had been so young, she must have forgotten by now, as well as been brainwashed to hate him like her older brothers did.

Aemond gazed at Daenys now, who was grown up, a girl of seven and ten years old. Aemond begrudgingly noticed that she really had grown into a beautiful young woman. Her dark brown hair fell to her shoulders in soft, gentle waves, still messy from the ride on Aegarax. She was dressed in black riding pants, with leather boots that reached her knees. Instead of a tunic she wore a black leather jerkin overtop a white blouse, the Targaryen sigil embroidered on in red on the chest, and the blue Velaryon seahorses adorning the sleeves. Daenys Velaryon looked every bit a proper dragon rider. When she turned to look at him Aemond felt his heart clench in his chest as he got a good look at her face. She was fair, big brown eyes as opposed to violet ones studying him. Her face was round, all soft edges, with the same aquiline nose of house Targaryen. Freckles dappled her sun kissed skin, probably from so much time under the sun atop her dragon. Aemond drank her presence in, unable to tear his gaze away.

The little boy inside him wanted to shy away, his old insecurity of his scarred, ugly face coming back to haunt him as he met the gaze of the woman that he knew he was supposed to hate as much as her siblings. He cursed at the intrusive thoughts of Daenys’ pretty demeanor that attacked his mind, voices that reminded him that Daenys would find him disgusting, find his missing eye disgusting, like some women in court did, but when she smiled at him, Aemond’s fears vanished.

Daenys smiled at him, even after he taunted her brothers. In that moment he felt his heart soar, and he wondered if this is how he felt as a child whenever he had been with her. Aemond’s usually impenetrable heart softened slightly, which he fucking hated.

~~

comment below or message me if you'd like to be on the taglist for this story, if anyone reads it i guess haha :)

[weirdmorefics]

Hello! May I request a Az x reader (she/her) x Crowley where the reader loves the wind and has long hair (she grew her hair out specifically for this reason) and so to mess with her, Crowley and Az decide to play a prank where Crowley generates strong winds to play with the reader’s hair? Thank you so much and have an ineffable day!

Wind and Ducks

Aziraphale x Reader x Crowley

A/N- Have ineffable day as well!!!

Readers Pronouns- She/Her

Warnings- None

Word Count- 767

Summary- The three of you are spending the day in the park on the same bench you always do and feeding ducks but the wind seems to be following the reader wherever she goes.

"Who has the frozen peas?" Y/n shouts.

"Darling, I think we are out. There is bread where I keep the tea." Aziraphale responds.

Y/n gasps "Have you no decency for life!"

"Pardon," Aziraphale's head whips back to face her.

"Angel, you know bread causes obstructions in ducks," Crowley reminds.

"Sorry darling, I was distracted new shipment of books came in. Couldn't wait to open it," he smiled sheepishly.

"But we neeeed peeeaas," she whines.

"Then peas we shall get," Aziraphale kisses the top of her head.

"Let's get a move on then," Crowley ushers the two of you out of the store.

The door swings open with ease the wind blowing it back. Y/n's hair whips back into her face a small gigle escaping her lips.

"I hope the wind doesn't disturb the ducks, I do love the breeze though," she smiles.

"I am sure the ducks will not care about the wind once they see your smile," Aziraphale grins.

"Oh you big softie," Y/N pushes his shoulder.

The three of them spent way more time in the shop than was needed. Aziraphale looks at sweets, Crowley judges the plants' quality, and Y/n looks for the best peas to please the ducks. As the group exits the wind seems to have picked and Aziraphale and Crowley exchange knowing smiles unbeknownst to Y/n.

Y/n giggles a strand of hair gets tucked between her nose and lip. She turns to Crowley with a big grin, "You like my mustache?" She twirls the end of her hair as if it were a curly mustache on her face.

Crowley rolls his eyes but his smile tells another story. The wind comes in and goes and each time it picks up Aziraphale and Crowley would exchange silent glances. Y/n starts to pick up on these glances as they become more frequent but does not make the correlation.

She turns to face them pointing an excusing finger at them as they make their way to the park, "What are you two up to?"

Crowley raises his hands up in defense, "I have no idea what you are on about darling."

Y/n ignores Crowley and sends her glance to Aziraphale expecting him to be the more likely one to break but he says nothing and shrugs with an innocent smile.

She puts to her eyes and back to the duo, "I've got my eye on you two." She turns back around and continues to make her way to the duck pond.

Crowley and Aziraphale sit on the same bench as always and Y/n sits closer to the water to accommodate the ducks. She hands out the peas delicately and more and more ducks seem to surround her. Crowley looks at the ducks with envy to be treated so kindly by Y/n was a gift what did these birds do to deserve it. As his jealousy gets the best of him the wind picks up the heaviest it has today making the ducks scurry off. Y/n frowns but the wind causes flowers from a nearby bush to land gently in her hair. She stands smiling letting her hair flow more wildly and dancing around. She followed the direction which the flowers came from and picked some more for the boys.

She sat on the bench once she returned and tucked the flowers in the men's hair, "Crowley if you were jealous of the ducks all you had to do was say not make a windstorm."

"I haven't the faintest clue on what you're talking about," Crowley plays coy.

"Aziraphle," She states.

"We just love seeing you so happy when the wind plays with your hair," he smiled sheepishly.

"See love it wasn't out of jealousy it was for joy," Crowley argued.

"Whatever you say," Y/n giggles.

"I am serious Y/n," he says defensively.

"You are fooling no one, Crowley. Even the angel doesn't believe you," She smiled as the angel looked away hiding a smile.

"Come on, let's leave. I am getting quite tired of you two ganging up on me." Crowley ends the conversation leaving Aziraphale and Y/n smiling and chuckling.

"I must say I did enjoy seeing you so happy with the wind today. I am glad it was accompanied by a signature Crowley tantrum," He whispers into her ear.

Y/n smile widens even bigger and she whispers, "Me too."

"Oi, what are you to whispering about over there? It better not be about me! Let's get a move on," Crowley shouts and the giggling pair follow.

[terrence-silver]

Does Terry Silver get nervous butterflies when in love? I like to think about his sensitive side, if such a thing exists.

---

Oh, it exists alright.

He's pacing up and down, trying on several different outfits, putting his stylists through hell because the impression he wants to leave matters more than anything else right now --- he's overthinking, he's overplanning, his mansion is practically under siege, the long-suffering Margaret is reminding Mr. Silver that he should please, most respectfully, calm down before he blows a fuse because here he is, practically vibrating with excitement and buying expensive gifts in advance...and then buying several additional ones while soaking in his jacuzzi because the first one seems somehow insufficient to what he desires (and he's imagined you'll desire). He's making call after call that is meant to ensure he's delivered every bit of information, intel, every purchase, every commission, that every order is put into motion, that every piece of the puzzle that'll ensure him, say, a perfect outcome to something he's envisioned or planned with his beloved is completed to his specific instructions; he's all movement, all enthusiasm, all euphoria, he's weaving schemes in advance like he just made the business deal of a lifetime. He's been at it since one in the morning. Now, it's two in the afternoon...the next day. Man hasn't slept in over twelve hours and nobody knows exactly where he seeps the energy or endurance from; but whatever the source, there seems to be an infinite abundance of it. He's all giddy, all smiles, all laughter and that's Terry Silver in love for you. The human incarnation of a happy pill.

Impossible to contain or calm down.

His butterflies are absolutely on steroids and hitting new highs, loudly flapping away hard enough to cause a windstorm in his gut that'll put a pep in his step like he's a child about to meet his most cherished playdate after being separated for merely a day for all we know, running on excess energy, forcing everyone around him to just try and keep up with his overall stamina and increasing demands --- and good luck with that one. Milos Dadok could be there, diligently almost running behind a long-legged Mr. Silver, carrying bouquets containing a hundred and one red roses because it's go big or go home at every hour of the day in this dojo, grimly and very seriously attempting to pace himself to his Boss' wide, eager strides as he hauls the flowers forward followed by a team of staff members marching where Terry wants and needs them to be. They're on a tight schedule here! They've an agenda! Man could be any age at any time and he'll behave like a school boy about to go a first dance.

So, not only can he be sensitive, he's...I mean, look at this beautiful face?

☝️I envision Terry Silver in love is like that 24 / 7.

It's everything or nothing with him.

Guy beams infectious, boyish, unspoiled happiness like a nuclear reactor and when he truly cares and it's written all over him, I feel. All over his body language. His face. His expression. His energy. His behavior. His deeds. All of it. There's no doubt in mind this guy's enamored because when he is, emotions are open and raw. Beloved walks into the room and he immediately has this triumphant, shit-eating full mega-watt smile with two rows of teeth entirely on display at the mere sight of them as he runs towards them and his whole face along with his eyes just laugh with him. He lights up. I wouldn't say it is nervousness in the classical sense because I don't feel he ascribes to feeling, cultivating or nurturing any emotion he might view as limiting to his ambitions (in this case, his ambitions being beloved's affection), but nonetheless, it is the type of love one cannot hide and definitely the manner of reaction everyone dreams and yearns to be greeted with. He's just overjoyed. If anything, Terry Silver's very courageous and even adorably overbearing with his butterflies.

He can be the sweetest person ever or a literal nightmare.

Best pray he doesn't see you as an enemy.

[incorrect-riordanverse]

Lavinia: so you never dance?

Lester: I’m told I look like a marionette in a windstorm

Meg: *nodding in the background*

[vgperson]

Vocaloid Highlights: April 2023

No foolin', she IS the star. Highlights Archive

========== Stand-Outs ========== April Star Toe Loop Cheap Property King Queen Jack Dance Samsa Heart-Fluttering Star☆Land! Nero Misfortune All Ameri A Brief History of Us Gourami Kiss Spring Express Train Unclear Wisdom Requiem Startling Dystopia Kotonoha Dance Da-Da-Da-Dance Strobe Caster Euphobia Record of Exile Simulcaster Know Misery Rain Shelter Babel Obscured Mad Head Worm Open Eyes Lost in Void

========== Worth Your Time ========== Anomaly You-Colored Sky Non-Inevitable Greed Gazer One Day At A Time Ms. Dummy Insomnia Meaningless Music FROM A TREASURE BOX On a Night of Red Ruin Be The MUSIC! Closing the Distance to You Absolute Status Quo Keeping Imitation in the Mirror Burnit!! Plant Human MAGIC CITY NIGHT Diva In Praise of Youth Apple and Pomegranate Retro Future Being Dream Dancer Rainy Noise Words Are Longing To Get Out Happy End Konpeito and Love Horoscope Let Me See Water Space Ultramarine Let's Die Together With the Piano After It Breaks You Don't Listen To People, Huh Fleeting Eternity RED Final Correspondence Muddy Bouquet Demo Song Dream Girl I'm Home Haustier Conspiracist I Just Can't Live SUSHI-GO-ROUND Destruction Girl The Same Outcome Gerbera Lost Forever Impurity save to heart Aster Stop the HICCUP Midnight Railroad Crossing Last Order Spring Haze, Clouding in Windstorms If Life Has a Weight Happy Creator Te-Te-Te Metamorphose Lost City Girl Love and Sakura are Moments. Season's Cheeks and Wonderland Night Walk Gold Prize Rainy Raine-chan '89 Da Da Dawn Our Experiment Sound of Spring's Departure Trash Can Search Climber Wind Sprint Won't Kill Divine Possession Parallel White Clouds Lethal Pervert Waiting in the Sea Sorrow's Pocket Nothing to Sell But Kindness Light Blue Damage Fashion Poor Loser Gymnastics #1 Seriously Sick Blossom Scar PAREIDO (Parade) Anaphylaxis X-Mark Batter Your Point of View The Day I Learned Love PLUG→OUT Labyrinth Lamentin' Bein' Sick (Special Version) Reminiscence Poetry Vanity L Violet Refrain & Remind Round and Round and Under Teto-Teto-Toteto Monologue The Day's End Boiling Isol-ization (2023 ver.) Beyond Sleep, It Doesn't Rain. You said you love me

[lucyav13]

Dimentio

A more deep investigation about this emblematic character.

His name is a pun on "dementia" and "dimension". Like Mario and Mimi, he can flip between dimensions, but he can also manipulate them (an ability he shares with Merloo).

A theory says that the surviving son of the pixl inventor is his ancestor.

In the english version, Tippi seems to inmediatly recognize Dimentio upon encountering first. However, in the original Japanese script, her reaction is more ambiguous, afirmaning that Dimentio is one of the Count's minions.

Dimentio originally intended for Dimension D to multiply his power by 256. Upon winning the battle against him, the player character claims that the dimension made them more powerful as well, leaving everyone's stats unchanged relative to each other. This may be a homage to 8-bit storage capacity: 8-bit integers have 256 possible values, so adding 256 (although not multiplying by it) will overflow the integer and result in no net change.

 The void is absent from the background of this dimension.

According to Carson, Dimentio approached the Count on his own, wishing to join him. While he was turned down once, he was hired after Bleck read about someone having a similar role in the Dark Prognosticus...

My theory: Dimentio is impure. But not the son of Blumiere or Timapni. The tribe of darkness knew the power and monstrosity of the impures thanks to him. As the tribe saw how dangerous it was and the consequences it would bring, he was left forgotten along with his parents. Maybe that's why he's an impure. For this reason, Timpani, in one of his many visits, was able to see him and his family being thrown out of the tribe. Since he has floating hands and teleportation powers, just like the Count Bleck.

But his mask doesn't let us see how he really is...

Aditional information:

Catch Card: 195

HP Max: 80

Attack: 4

Defense:

Score: 8000

Card Description: Dimentio is Count Bleck's dimension-bending mercenary. The question is, do psycho jesters get good benefits?

Tattle: That's Dimentio... A magician who works for Count Bleck... He's like an evil clown... He'll use many magic tricks, including making doubles of himself... It's hard to get a read on this suspicious character...

Quotes:

"And so I arrive, like a sudden windstorm at a kindergarten picnic!"

"Ah ha ha. Finally, you arrive!"

"Yes, yes, no one likes the icky stuff... Yessss... A perfect world... Sounds magical!..."

"It would be so very DULL if your journey ended so easily... Instead, it ends with...magic!"

"It is truly enchanting to finally meet my hapless victims."

"You must be Bowser. I knew the moment I saw the flailing nubbins you call arms."

"Well met, lady. Your beauty is as refreshing as a slap to the face on a crisp winter day!"

"At last, the hero... I know of you from the festival of hair that dances upon your lip!"

"Now we must duel, like two gleaming banjos on a moonlit stoop!"

"Can you pierce this...illusion?"

"Your blows are like miniature jackhammers wielded by tiny, angry road workers!"

"The next time we meet, you will feast on a deadly eight-course meal!"

"I am not violent by nature, you know. I'd prefer to settle this peacefully, in fact."

"Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Again, for dramatic effect! AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA."

"You've proven to be worthy foes in the past, so I'm not going to make it easy."

"I'm saying that you no longer have value to me, so I'm ending your games."

"And so I strike, like an unseen dodgeball at an echoing gymnasium!"

"Ciao!"

The above text is from the Super Mario Wiki and is available under a Creative Commons license. Attribution must be provided through a list of authors or a link back to the original article. Source: https://www.mariowiki.com/Dimentio

(A:N) If you want to share any theory that you have had, let me know in the comments and I will rate your theory in a part of this book. Bye!

[emophil1981]

Posted by Sebleloot found on Deviantart

Finn and Caleb - a shared secret!

Finn Matthews had always felt like he was balancing on a tightrope, high above the chaos of Crowley High School. At eighteen years, with dreams as vivid and wild as the graffiti that adorned the school’s crumbling walls, he was both a student and a secret keeper—guarding two identities that were stitched together like a patchwork quilt, each square woven with longing and hidden desires.

The bell rang, echoing through the bustling corridors like a clarion call to chaos. Palms sweating slightly, Finn brushed back a stray lock of dark hair that had fallen across his forehead, taking a deep breath as he stepped into the familiar classroom, the scent of chalk and old textbooks mingling in the air. He found his usual spot at the back of the room, where he could partially hide from both the teacher’s gaze and the pupils' bewildering social dynamics.

As his classmates settled in, the low murmur of chatter filled the air. Finn watched as Caleb Dawson, the star athlete, kicked off his sneakers under the desk and stretched his legs, the fabric of his worn socks a tapestry of bold stripes—each color pulsating like a heartbeat. Finn’s heart raced, an electric current coursing through him, mixing thrills of both admiration and yearning. The delightful dance of feet, the squeeze of toes, the way socks slid against each other—it pulled at something deep within him, a yearning that felt like an inexplicable magic.

He could hear snippets of conversation that drifted through the classroom, punctuated by laughter and playful banter, but to Finn, it was all background noise. He let his gaze drift, focusing on the way Caleb absentmindedly twirled a striped sock between his fingers while his other foot playfully scratched at the carpet tiles beneath the desk. There was something intensely vulnerable about that simple act—something raw that hinted at an uninhibited side of his usually polished classmate.

Yet Finn’s secret was a perilous thing, dangerous and intense. Each time he lifted the fabric of his own experiences, the threads of fear tangled into knots. Would his friends, his family, accept him if they knew? Would they recoil from him? He couldn’t even find the words to express his true self, let alone the peculiar fetish that whispered to him in shameful tones.

He jumped at the soft sound of laughter erupting from a nearby group of girls who had just finished sharing an inside joke. Their jovial energy was magnetic, pulling Finn's eyes away from the rhythm of Caleb's foot movements, but the spell was short-lived. The bell rang again, disrupting his spiraling thoughts, and the chaos of students filing out created a rush of bodies, breezing past him like a windstorm.

Knowing he had a brief moment of freedom before the next class began, Finn slipped out of the classroom and headed for the locker room, adrenaline spiking in his veins. It was a risk, but the thrill was intoxicating.

The locker room was dimly lit and smelled of sweat, rubber, and the odd lingering aroma of fresh detergent. Finn walked lightly, his heart thudding pleasantly against his ribcage as he navigated the chlorine-saturated air towards the rows of lockers. He could almost hear the echoes of laughter from the gym, a distant melody of camaraderie that both drew him in and pushed him away.

There, tucked away in the corner locker, he found what he was searching for—a pair of sneakers left unattended, laces untied, the unmistakable scent that spoke to his hidden fascination drifting through the air. He cringed at the guilt bubbling within him but silenced it for a moment, overcome by curiosity.

Finn knelt then, inhaling the warmth of the worn fabric, captivated by the secret world held within each thread. Time slipped away as he lost himself in the fragrance of youth, sweat, and secret stories told only through the remnants of forgotten socks and the contours of fading sneakers. Each breath filled him with dizzying exhilaration, moments of heady escape from the confines of his hidden reality.

But the sound of footsteps approaching jerked Finn from his reverie, heart racing at the thought of being caught. He hastily backed away, slipping silently out of the locker room before he could be discovered, the exhilarating mix of fear and thrill flooding his senses as he re-entered the bustle of the hallway.

As he navigated the throngs of students, Finn’s thoughts swirled with conflicting emotions: the tantalizing pull of his hidden desires and the anxiety that lingered like a shadow, always close behind. Would he ever find the courage to unveil the layers of his heart? The question haunted him as he wandered through the hall, searching for a place to belong, a sanctuary where he could be both unique and unashamed.

But for now, Finn knew, he was simply a spectator in his own life, balancing precariously on that tightrope, waiting for the moment he might finally dare to leap.

Finn had promised himself that he wouldn’t return to the locker room, that he would take the long way around the school from now on to avoid the dangerously intoxicating scent of old sneakers and the thrill of the forbidden. But with the weight of another long day pressing down on him and his heart aching with turmoil, he found himself drawn back as if by an invisible thread.

This time, the locker room felt different—charged with a sense of urgency as he stepped stealthily past the row of metal lockers that loomed like sentinels in the fading light. The familiar, intoxicating aroma wafted through the air, wrapping around him like a delicate embrace. Finn knelt beside a pair of sneakers, inhaling deeply, feeling the tension within him begin to dissolve under the warmth of his secret.

But as he lost himself in the fabric and scent, he didn’t notice the soft creak of the door swinging open behind him. A sound—footsteps on linoleum—snapped him back to reality.

Before he had a chance to move, Caleb Dawson entered the locker room, his tall, athletic frame filling the space. The sunlight that filtered in through the frosted glass cast a halo around him, a rare moment of vulnerability juxtaposed against the brash confidence of the quarterback persona Finn had known. But now, Caleb's face was contemplative, curious—watching him.

“What are you doing, Finn?” Caleb's voice was soft, almost hesitant, piercing through the enveloping silence.

Finn’s heart catapulted into his throat as he turned to face Caleb, dread and embarrassment colliding in a jarring wave. He fell onto his bottom, scrambling back, his mind racing with unthinkable scenarios. Would Caleb laugh? Would he tell everyone? Would Finn’s existence in the high school hierarchy shift to a crueler order, the target of jokes and disdain?

Yet, as he looked into Caleb’s deep-set brown eyes, he found not disdain but a perplexing warmth. What Finn didn’t know was that Caleb had been navigating the same treacherous waters, hiding a part of himself he felt he could never share. Caleb had long admired the quiet guy who lingered at the edges of their social sphere.

Finn’s breath hitched, layers of fear and shame boiling over as he burst into tears—shaking uncontrollably beneath the weight of his secret being exposed. "I’m sorry! I shouldn’t be here—I didn’t mean to—it’s just—” words tumbled out, twisted and broken, as Finn pressed his hands to his face, hot tears cascading down.

But then, to his shock, Caleb stepped forward. With a grace that belied his size, he knelt down beside Finn, strong hands reaching out to touch his shoulder, grounding him when he felt like he might drift away. “Hey,” he murmured softly, “it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize.”

Finn blinked through his tears, stunned. “You don’t understand… I mean, I—”

“No, I do,” Caleb interrupted gently, his voice steady despite the vulnerability in his own eyes as he wiped the tears from Finn’s cheeks with the gentle brush of his thumb. “I get it more than you know. Trust me.”

Caleb’s admission hung in the air, raw and electric. The quarterback, idolized and invincible in the eyes of their peers, revealed a fragility mixed with depth that directed the course of Finn’s rushed emotions into a torrent of relief, confusion, and something that felt very close to hope.

“But, I’m…” Finn struggled to articulate what he had kept locked away for so long, but the words got trapped somewhere between fear and desire. “I’m gay.”

Caleb’s gaze softened, and a silent understanding passed between them, a silent acknowledgment of their shared reality. “So am I.”

Finn gasped lightly, caught off guard by the concreteness of Caleb's admission. “You?”

The quarterback nodded, his own voice trembling as he continued, “I’ve felt like I had to hide it forever. Everyone expects me to be this... perfect athlete, and I can't let them see me as I am.” Caleb's façade cracked, and a tear glistened in the corner of his eye. “And I’ve got my own… peculiar interests, like you. I thought I was the only one. I swear, if I saw you doing this even two minutes earlier, I would’ve lost it. But all I could think about was how the world can be so cruel to us, and here we are, where we shouldn’t feel ashamed.”

Finn looked up at Caleb, their realities peeling back layers of isolation and fear. This unexpected connection felt electric, a profound knot tying their fates—two young men, seeking solace in what society deemed forbidden.

Caleb reached forward, pulling Finn into a gentle embrace, enveloping him in the warmth of understanding and acceptance. Finn melted into Caleb’s hold, feeling the tension ebb away as he buried his face against the sturdy breadth of the quarterback’s shoulder. It felt safe there, a sanctuary of shared secrets.

“I thought I would be punished for this,” Finn murmured through his tears, voice muffled against the fabric of Caleb’s shirt. "But… you’re okay with it?”

“More than okay,” Caleb replied, his voice steady and sincere. “This is a relief for me, too. No more hiding.”

They sat there, wrapped in each other’s embrace as the enormity of their secrets bore down. The locker room, once a place rife with danger and shame, transformed into a cocoon—a space where they could begin to untangle the threads of their identities together and finally breathe.

As the seconds passed, they drew strength from one another in the middle of a world that had seemed so isolating. For the first time in a long time, the weight of their double lives felt less suffocating. They had both reached across the chasm of judgment and fear, finding companionship in their shared truths—a trembling hope flickering to life against the odds.

The sun dipped low in the sky, casting long warm shadows across the parking lot as the final bell of the day resonated through the halls of Crowley High. Finn and Caleb lingered by the exit, their nervous excitement crackling in the air. The heaviness of secrets they had shared hung between them, now mingling with something new—a burgeoning friendship that felt like a lifeline, anchoring them against a world that often felt chaotic and unwelcoming.

“Hey,” Finn said, fidgeting with the hem of his T-shirt, his heart racing. “If you’re free after school... I mean, I was thinking maybe you’d want to come over. My parents are out of town.”

Caleb’s eyes widened slightly, his expression shifting to one of genuine intrigue. “Over to your place?”

Finn nodded, cheeks flushing. “I promise I won’t put you to work or anything—I just thought maybe we could hang out. You know… get to know each other better.”

Caleb’s smile broke through, easing any lingering tension. “Yeah, I’d like that. A lot.”

They walked to the parking lot together, hearts drumming in synchronized excitement. Finn's palms felt sweaty, a good kind of apprehension settling in as he led the way to his car. He felt lighter than he had in years—he was no longer alone.

As they pulled up to Finn’s house, Caleb’s eyes widened in awe. The mansion loomed large, framed by well-manicured hedges and lined with intricate stonework that spoke of historic elegance. “Whoa,” he breathed, chuckling slightly as they parked. “You weren’t kidding about living in a nice part of town. This is incredible.”

Finn chuckled nervously but felt a sense of pride. “It’s just a house, really. It was always just my parents’ thing. I usually prefer being outside or at school.”

When they stepped inside, a cool wave of air greeted them, starkly contrasting the warm summer day outside. The interior was expansive, adorned with tasteful art and subtle hints of luxury. “Make yourself at home,” Finn said, his voice echoing slightly in the foyer.

Caleb slipped off his sneakers, the casual move revealing a soft ocean of colors in his socks—delightful reminders of the spirited person Finn had come to admire. Finn followed suit, freeing his own feet from the confines of his worn sneakers, revealing striped socks that looked decidedly less pristine by comparison.

As they settled into the spacious living room, an unexpected silence settled between them, filled with the buzz of quiet exploration. Finn felt almost shy as he caught glimpses of Caleb’s sock-clad feet, curiosity blooming within him. “I know it sounds strange,” Finn murmured, glancing sideways, “but I like socks. The way they feel… the way they look.”

To his surprise, Caleb's eyes sparkled with delight. “I get that! It’s kind of fascinating, isn’t it?”

The conversation surged forward as they began to share their thoughts on different fabrics, patterns, and colors, laughter spilling out during each exchange. Finn felt the tension dissolve as they navigated their interests, an intimate bond unfurling in shared confessions and animated discussions.

“Wanna see my room?” Finn asked, emboldened by the warmth of their growing connection.

“Sure!” Caleb said, excitement lighting up his features.

Finn led the way upstairs, his heart racing with anticipation. The moment they entered his room, the atmosphere shifted into something cozy and private, a sanctuary where secrets could flourish. The walls were adorned with posters of his favorite bands and splashes of vibrant colors, a testament to his creative spirit.

“Nice digs, Finn,” Caleb said, clearly impressed.

“Thanks!” Finn grinned shyly, motioning to the plush rug at the center of the room. “Want to sit?”

They settled on the rug, legs crossed. As they faced each other, a lingering sense of curiosity remained, the space between them pulsing with anticipation. Finn marveled at the sight of Caleb’s feet, adorned in soft cotton socks, and felt a pull that he hadn’t anticipated. “Can I—um, can we sniff each other’s socks?” The words tumbled out, laced with a nervous thrill.

Caleb blinked, a grin spreading across his face as he nodded. “Are you serious? I thought I was the only one who did that!”

With shared laughter—an expression of new vulnerability—they both lifted their feet, bringing them closer. Finn inhaled the earthy scent of Caleb’s socks, a mix of musk and fresh fabric that sent a ripple of exhilaration through him. Caleb reciprocated, giving a soft chuckle as he brought his face closer to Finn’s feet, the moment imbued with something deeper than mere curiosity.

The intimacy of the act made the air thick with something new, a tidal wave of connection that washed over them, pulling them closer. Finn’s heart raced at the realization that this was beyond mere infatuation—it was a shared exploration of raw honesty.

As they both pulled back, snickering, bricks of tension had crumbled, making way for something even sweeter. Caleb reached out, brushing his fingers along the back of Finn’s hand, the gesture electrifying in its simplicity. The thoughtful caress transformed into something deeper, an unspoken invitation.

Finn felt his cheeks burn as the space between them began to shrink, the uncharted territory beckoning just beyond reach. They leaned in closer, tentative at first but fueled by an impulse that seemed impossible to resist.

When their lips met, it was soft and tentative, sweet as the first notes of a beautiful melody. Finn wrapped his arms around Caleb, pulling him tighter as they melted into each other. The warmth of their bodies created a bubble where the outside world faded away—school, expectations, fears—all slipped into the background.

They stayed entwined in each other’s embrace, sharing soft touches and tentative kisses, relishing the moment as their fears melted into newfound hope. Finn’s heart raced, not with anxiety but with the promise of acceptance, with the joy of companionship—of being seen for who he truly was.

As they pulled away slightly, both breathless with the sudden rush of emotions, Caleb’s smile mirrored Finn’s—shared delight, warmth, and an understanding that they were not alone anymore. There was a spark, a glimmer of possibility in the air, and both knew they were embarking on a journey far richer than the secrets they had kept locked away for too long. In each other, they found both solace and the potential for something special, a connection that transcended the ordinary—a friendship, perhaps, blossoming into something deeper.

[justlarkin]

Yoshitsune gremlin this, Yoshitsune unhinged that. Let's discuss how fucked Ainurakkur is lol. His mother was accidentally reduced to everburning charcoal by his dad and since it says her remains are forever providing warmth for him, I guess he just carries around her corpse. Normal behavior. Casually massacres any opponent. Burned down an entire realm, murdering everyone there. Brutalized a wind goddess for being annoying in the most passive-aggressive way ever lol. Murdered his wife's brother when he tried to stop him from kidnapping her and threatened to do the same to her if she didn't comply. Just in Housamo alone, he's a brainwashed, child soldier, who was raised with the sole purpose of taking down his enemy by any means necessary and sacrificing himself. We're sleeping on this creature too much.

-Keep thinking about Ainurakkur occasionally mentioning that his mother is always with him and patting his chest, and everyone just assumes that he means figuratively, in his heart. While he actually just keeps her charred remains in his breast pocket. She's still warm. 

-The Wind Goddess story is actually really funny because why did she decide to decimate an innocent village by dancing up a windstorm because she got bored and then get mad when she couldn't destroy his house?? That's why he showed up to her house later like "That was a cool dance, here's mine," and destroyed her home and fucked her up to an inch of her life before being like "Just kidding" and reversing all the damage. Bro was crazy for that.

-I always forget to mention it, but Kanna probably is the dragon whose protection he has in Housamo since his weapon is blessed with Kanna's power. It can summon lightning to annihilate evil, so what I'm really saying is that he's He-Man.

[haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll]

Tracklist:

Mysterious Book • Patapon's Legend • Hoi Ya Hoi! Festival • Obelisk ~to the World's End~ • Theme of Gyorocchi • Theme of Acchichichi • Theme of Yahoho • Theme of Rinririn • Theme of Ore-Ore-Ore • Theme of Bibiricchi • Theme of Bikkurakotta • Theme of Gyoro-Gyoro • Theme of Awon • Theme of Usshisshi • Miracle ~Rain~ • Miracle ~Wind~ • Miracle ~Quake~ • Miracle ~Windstorm~ • Ponberabo~! • Ponnakotta! • Is It Short, Hoi! ~Triumph~ • Bon-Bon-Bon • Ran-Ran-Ran de Supopon • Uhyahya for Konkinkan • Sucharaka Zakun! • Pushu-Pushu Tonkan • Looking at ''IT'' at the world's end • Morning • Awakening • If This World Has An End.! • Theme for Gyorocchi Remix • Theme for Acchichichi Remix • Theme for Yahoho Remix • Theme for Rinririn Remix • Theme for Ore-Ore-Ore Remix • Theme for Bibiricchi Remix • Theme for Bikkurakotta Remix • Theme for Gyoro-Gyoro Remix • Theme for Awon Remix • Theme for Usshisshi Remix • Patapon's Theme • Mysterious Book ~to the other side of the sea~ • Hoi Ya Hoi! ~Old Festival~ • Evolution • Theme for Kachinkoron • Theme for Uffunfa • Theme for Zun-Zun-Zun • Theme for Pokkurimakka • Theme for Modamepon • Theme for Ponbekedatta • Theme for Totetitetan • Theme for Nyankadetta • Miracle ~Snowstorm~ • Miracle ~Offense~ • Miracle ~Defense~ • Paragedo ~Transdimensional Hero~ • Donchaka ~Trivial~ • Donchaka ~Test Your Ears~ • Donchaka ~Ore-Ore~ • Donchaka ~Everybody In~ • Donchaka ~Enthusiasm~ • Uppun Roll • Couleur Dance Step 1 • Couleur Dance Step 2 • Couleur Dance Step 3 • Is it really the world's end • Rainbow • Awakening ~Princess~ • Hidden Mission • If This World Has An End.! 2 • Theme for Kachinkoron Remix • Theme for Uffunfa Remix • Theme for Zun-Zun-Zun Remix • Theme for Pokkurimakka Remix • Theme for Modamepon Remix • Theme for Ponbekedatta Remix • Theme for Totetitetan Remix • Theme for Nyankadetta Remix • Patapon's Theme ~Rock Arrange~ • Hero's Here! • Once upon a time • Theme for Hohoi-Yaha • Theme for Ogyorocchi • Theme for Donjararin • Theme for Sungemon • Theme for Bon-Boyaji • Theme for Gupipapi • Theme for Nan-Nan-Nano • Theme for Parabiyappa • Theme for Patakorasassa • Theme for Tun-Tutu-Tun • Theme for Aparapapaiya • Mission Goal • Mission Fail • Theme for Dottamagachin • Fighting Win • Theme for Kurukurumisso • Fighting Draw • Theme for Suttengokun • Fighting Loss • Theme for Gittanbattan • Rock for Gyorocchi • Rock for Bibiricchi • Rock for Bikkurakotta • Rock for Awon • Rock for Usshisshi • Rock for Kachinkoron • Rock for Zun-Zun-Zun • Rock for Modamepon • Rock for Ponbekedatta • Rock for Totetitetan • Dungeon Goal • Dungeon Return • Summoning the Yarigami • Summoning the Yamagami • Summoning the Tategami • Summoning the Soragami • Treasure Box • Finished! • Retreat! • Hideout • Hero Gate • Kajiyan • Master Obelisk • Kyanpa • Star of Hope • Savage Soul • Lively Board • Seeding together • Beginning of the End ~Dark Hideout~ • Wh-Wh-What! • Wicked 7 • Selected at the world's end • To say that the world was a box • If This World Has An End.! 3

VGM Downloads ♪ Youtube: [Disc 1] [Disc 2] [Disc 3]

[diosama27]

Yami Sukehiro

It was such a beautiful night as you were walking back home worn out after work. There were no people around as it was pretty late into the night. You just enjoyed the late night summer breeze along with some perfectly fit aesthetic music.

You walked alongside the road humming to that one particular song which you simply couldn't get off of your mind, as you plugged in your headphones and played that same song which had the necessity to be heard more than once, the feeling was beatific.

You enjoyed your night vaguely noticing some tried figures of other late workers walking, as they dragged themselves home the same way as you. Well atleast you had your songs.

It was Saturday so you could just blow off your pent up steam tomorrow atleast. You walked alongside the road while millions of thoughts lingered in your brain.

Suddenly you noticed something pass by but couldn't figure out what it was, you only felt the speed of the passing body through the force of the air with which it hit you. Before even you could realise that it was a motorcycle, it was long gone and now out of your sight.

You heard a faint siren of the police which caught your attention now that your headphones were plugged off while you searched for the source of that windstorm you experienced before.

The siren was roaring louder than before ringing in your ears as the vehicle was now in close proximity.

You waited in the same spot to feed your curiosity as to why was a patrol car out there chasing someone this late while it's sirens were blaring across the street, since it's not a usual thing in your place.

As you stood there another motorcycle was coming towards you fast but not as fast as the previous one and you could see the police were just behind him.

He was using only his left hand to balance the motorcycle steering and the other to support his head as his elbow rested on his thigh.

He saw you for a brief moment, and he honked pretty hard while he was passing by, but you didn't mind it though. Even if you were the only person around as other late workers were far ahead as a result of your stupid curiosity.

It started to feel uncomfortable as he kept staring your way even after he passed by. He was freaking chased after by the Cops and still this guy had the guts to ogle his eyes at other people.

But to be honest that momentary eye contact from this stranger made your heart flutter and gave you butterflies.

Time stopped for you and you could say the same for him by the way he was looking at you.

The rest of the world kept moving forward but you were static and only the different types of emotions were briming within you.

The way his eyes grew wider and wider as he came close to you. You have never believed in love at first sight, that was bullshit to you but now you have a whole new hypothesis.

His wide eyes, the slightly parted mouth, the way his dark ebony hair swayed and danced along with the gusting wind.

The eye contact you shared with this stranger didn't even last for a couple of seconds but the it felt like decades.

He could've gotten into an accident by the way he turned his whole head and was staring right into your soul. But right before the police caught up to him he vanished into a turn.

He took a cut at a narrow alley ahead as he escaped the chase. The police were not able to further the case. So they moved forward in hope of catching the previous guy.

Now you preferred only some peace and no songs in your walk because your phone was about to die any minute and at the exact moment you hear the same horn again but now with certain pauses.

You turned to confirm wether your bizzare guess was right, well guess what? It was.

It was the same guy who was freaking holding his damned head by supporting his elbow on his thigh as the "police were chasing him"; who had the audacity to ogle at people while being "chased"; and who was freaking shifting himself perfectly to see you even after passing by on the motorcycle while "being freaking chased", now he came from behind you once more honking his way towards you.

You gasped as he was just straight away from you and as to why this man is here or is he not afraid of getting caught or wether this other guy from before was caught by the police or not and all those thoughts which every random stranger would've had in this scenario.

He speed before you and parked his bike dead ahead of you.

Well now it was obvious that you somehow got yourself entangled into something which could be alot harder to get away with.

Why was the guy who was being "chased by the police" glancing at me?? I don't know.

So why is he now standing before me?? I guess we'll never know.

Is he a criminal? Maybe. Wait what the hell yn.

If so, could he be a kidnapper? No way, just look at him, he's attractive, but maybe, like who knows.

Even if he's one, there's no way he's gonna take me even if he want to, he just couldn't "perks of being a big girl".

(AN: Laughing in cardi)

(AN: Gurl let's be real; he... You mean him, he could freaking sabotage a tank if he wanted to)

As all these stupid thoughts kept flooding your brain he just stood before you. You saw him and took a few strides opposite to him and made sure there was enough space between the two of you.

"Heyyy?" You heard him speak, you knew it was you who he was calling out to but you pretended to think that you were wrong.

It could be creepy, a guy starting a conversation in an empty road in the middle of the night with no fucking people around, just before when you witnessed him on a motorcycle while the police were after him, "It's some creepy ass stuff even if the guy is attractive as hell, it is sure creepy"

You hear him call out more and abruptly he races before you and blocks your way. "Well, well, it's you I'm calling to darling".

Now he was infront of you, shoulders hunched to reach your eye level. You could smell alcohol and a mix of cigar in his breath as he speaks. "Maybe he's drunk" you thought.

"Hellooo... Earth to miss beautiful here" he says while snapping his fingers infront of you to take back your attention.

"I'm sorry, I don't know who you are" you say as you try to walk past him. Instead he just strides past you and stops you again.

"I know you don't know who I am, that's why I think it will be my pleasure if we both could get to know each other" he says in a flirty tone as a coquettish smirk creeps on his face. He moves his raven hair out of his face.

His right hand travels to grab your right hand as gentle as possible and holds the back of your hand moving it closer towards his face.

"May I ???" he asks for your permission to kiss your hand.

If this man didn't smell like fucking alcohol or if you didn't personally authenticate him being pursued by the police, you would've thought that he was "one hell of a gentleman who you would die to get".

You loose your composure even with the minimum share of physical contact with this resplendent stranger. He makes you nervous, well who could not be? Literally he was furtively moving towards you the whole time.

As you stand there in a daze, he motions his face, inching towards the back of your hand, you could feel his "steamy" hot breath, as your heart starts to pump more red blood cells to that one particular area of your hand where you could feel his breath which started to induce heat all over from your face.

You pulled your hand away before it could touch his lips, those beautifully drawn, glossed lips, which could captivate you in the state of a more blissful nirvana that you could never attain by yourself.

If only you could just fall right between those heavenly lips of his, you would get consumed with the darkness and lust of your soul and his while exploring a new and different world in them, which I assure you that you would love and proclaim as yours.

"Now.... Did I just take the awkward turn. Shitttt" he cussed. "I'm sorry, but i hope we could start again. I'm Yami Sukehiro. Could I be honoured to be acknowledged by your presence and blessed by your name" he says as the pounding in your heart was about to go silent any minute now.

This night with this creepy handsome stranger could result in 'literally' taking your breath away.

You stand there as steam radiates from your body and as you're imaginary nose bleeding makes you anemic.

"I'm sorry, I'm not interested. It's late I should get going" you say as you walk away, when you feel him not persuading you anymore you felt the relief what you'd feel when your almost full bladder which was about to burst just a minute ago is now being unloaded slowly intensifying the relief, yeah, exactly, that's how you felt.

Promptly you heard his heavy steps approaching you as you darted ahead on the road as nimble as you could only for him to block you again.

Now he coerced a piece of paper into your plam and signalled you to call him using his hand and waited for your reply.

You just nod your head without making any eye contact as you hear him say "Is that a yes?" For which he didn't get a reply as you swiftly paced away from the scene with hearing no more chasing and approaching foot steps you further crumbled the paper in your hands which was now gonna sit on your nightstand forever or in your apartment trashcan considering it as some paper scrap as there is no way in hell you would willing call a stranger who made you feel soo many ways within a couple of hours.

The tranquillity that this incident would just be a "I was creeped out by a weirdo on a late night Saturday" in your dairy or notes but instead beginning to collapse the serenity you obtained as you find him again and again on the same road to your apartment for it to be more than a mere coincidence as days pass by. While you persistently try to avoid him, you knew that you fucked up real good this time.

[hxuse-xf-black]

Alice II: So you never dance? Molly II: I'm told that I look like a marionette in a windstorm. Lucy: *nodding in the background*

[rendy-a]

Preview 3: Getting the Venue ready with the Second Years

Getting closer to 500 followers and my next event. Here is another teaser fic about getting NRC ready for the big dance. Enjoy!

“Why, Prefect, aren’t you lucky to be able to assist in so many preparations,” Jade asks you with a good-natured smile frozen on his face.  You pout back, “Yeah, yeah.  Lucky me.”  Each student at NRC was being tasked with many additional chores to ready the campus for the upcoming goodwill dance that Crowely had arranged for Night Raven College, Royal Sword Academy and Fair Maiden Academy.  Students were assigned one chore by grade level, one by dorm and one by club.  You, being not sorted into a dorm or participating in a proper club, were invited to take part in all three grade levels’ tasks.  Today, it was turning the cafeteria into a proper reception venue with the second years. 

You were currently spreading tablecloths over the tables on the side of the room where an arrangement of snacks would be laid out for the party.  “Ready, Prefect?” comes a cheerful shout from the other end of the table.  You give Kalim a thumbs up and grab your end of the long tablecloth before you both shake it up and out to drape over the table.  “There, one down and…like 20 more to go,” you lament with fake cheer.  Kalim seems to take you at your word and excitedly tugs you on to the next table.  You meet Jade’s eye when accepting the next tablecloth and think that he is getting far too much amusement from your annoyance. 

Well, fine then.  You’d have fun setting it up, just to spite him.  “Let’s really shake this one up, Kalim!” you shout with false bravado.  Kalim immediately meets your enthusiasm, and you shake the next cloth with vigor.  Perhaps a bit too much vigor as the windstorm you create with the sheet blows a glass to the floor nearby.  Azul whips his head around at the sound and hurriedly marches over.  “Oops,” you call carefully, “Guess I don’t know my own strength.”  He shoots you a disapproving look, “Thankfully, the glass appears undamaged but really, Prefect, you should try to be more careful.”   

You give him an apologetic smile and move to collect the next tablecloth from Jade with less vigor.  Azul and Jade oversaw the banquet hall set-up, as they had prior experience in running Mostro Lounge.  Jade was keeping track of supplies, like tablecloths, and Azul was overseeing the overall set-up.  You’d found them to be surprisingly lenient with tasks, so long as things got done.  Maybe it came from the years in working with Floyd and his moods.  You flick out one more tablecloth with Kalim and it doesn’t quite land even but you shug and say to Kalim, “Good enough.”  Azul gives you a far too amused smile and moves away rapidly.  You have only that short warning before the storm arrives.

“GOOD ENOUGH!” Riddle shouts, rapidly growing red in the face.  “Queen’s Rules state that all tables must be set exactly even at a formal party.  EXACTLY, Prefect!” You know from experience that the best way to avoid collaring is immediate obedience.  “Yes, Riddle!” you and Kalim shout in unison before quickly straightening out the tablecloth.  Upon seeing the straightened cloth, Riddle calms down marginally but you think he still looks rather stressed.  “Well?” he asks expectantly.  You look at him puzzled, “Well?”  He frowns at you, “Well, Prefect, aren’t you going to start the next one?  We still have fifteen tables to go!” 

So you go onto the next, taking a cloth from an entertained Jade and setting it up under the intimidating supervision of Riddle.  Not that setting up tablecloths was fun before, but it is decidedly less fun with taskmaster Riddle there.  You frown in concentration making sure to guide the cloth down exactly even with Kalim’s end.  ‘There, that is good,’ you think as it settles.  It was, for a moment, before a gloved hand leans in and tugs it askew.  “Floyd!” shouts Riddle who is quickly riling up again, “What is the meaning of this?” 

He smiles lazily at Riddle and drapes a hand over your shoulder, forcing you to prop him up.  “Are you angry, Goldfishie?” he asks with a growing smile.  Riddle’s brows meet in a tight V as he sputters angrily.  You wonder if he might actually pass out from rage until Jade smoothly steps in, “Perhaps it would be best if you take Floyd to the kitchen to assist there, Prefect?”  That was understating it by a great deal, so you grab Floyd and retreat rapidly to the kitchens while silently wishing Jade and Kalim good luck with Riddle. 

You whisper thanks to Floyd for rescuing you from under the thumb of Riddle.  “I can’t leave my Shrimpy to battle ferocious goldfish alone.  You’d never survive.”  You thought that was both sweet and insulting at the same time.  At least you were headed to somewhere calmer to finish out your duty shift.  That was the plan, until you stepped into the kitchen and found Jamil one step from freaking out.  “Silver!  You are going to fall into that soup!  Ruggie!  Stop eating the tapas!”  Jamil not only shouts his displeasure but uses the knife in his hand to gesture wildly while complaining; it’s rather alarming to view.  You quickly separate from Floyd to move Silver away from the simmering pot he was “watching” and drape him over an empty counter instead. 

You’ve solved one disaster but find a new danger brewing.  Floyd seems to have acquired a knife from somewhere and is now approaching Jamil and offering to duel him for the title of King of the Kitchen.  You spend a single moment wondering if you can just sit this one out; surely a bunch of teenagers can find a way to solve their issues without violence.  Then you realize that is ridiculous, of course if will come down to violence without you.  “Floyd!  Floyd!” you call until the eel turns deceptively lidded eyes to you.  “Come on, that’s boring.  Let’s use that knife to chop some stuff up.  I bet you are totally awesome with it.”  You give him pleading puppy dog eyes and he eventually sighs.  “Lame.  You better be super impressed with my skills, Shrimpy!” he pouts. 

You were impressed; Floyd wasn’t the head chef of Mostro Lounge for nothing.  Especially when it came to seafood, he had an impressive skill in prepping ingredients.  You watched him slice and prep an entire crate of shrimp while you clapped at appropriate moments to keep him interested.  When the shrimp were finished, a much calmer Jamil directed you to convince Floyd to move onto chopping vegetables.  So, you did and that worked for five whole minutes until he stopped mid cut and declared he was no longer feeling it.  A frustrated Jamil trails after Floyd, berating him as he departs but Floyd is unmoved. 

The sound of the arguing seems to reach Silver who shakes himself into wakefulness.  “Sorry, I guess I fell asleep.  I’ll try harder next time,” he states earnestly.  You look at the pile of unchopped veggies and ask, “How are you with a knife?”  A sleepy yet confident smile is the only response.  When you see him in action, you wonder why you had even asked.  It was sometimes hard to remember that your unassuming classmate was a genuine knight in training.  With weapon in hand, there is no more doubt.  Silver makes clean and confident strokes with the blade, quickly making progress on the mound of veggies.  You asked Jamil what you should do, and he only sighed and suggested you talk to Silver to keep him awake.  You figured it was the easiest task you’d have all day and agreed readily. 

When the veggies were chopped, Jamil dismissed Silver to check with Azul if they needed his strength for any of the set-up in the cafeteria.  You were shifted to help Ruggie add ingredients to many dishes while Jamil supervised.  Ruggie had experience with many sorts of odd jobs, and it showed.  You felt like you barely kept up with Jamil’s directions while he and Ruggie accomplished tasks using mysterious kitchen code.  “Ruggie, watch the cheese; its dying in the pass.”  Ruggie quickly runs to grab the tray and shouts back, “Grab the low boy for me, would’ja?  I’m bringing it in hot.”  Jamil reaches over to hold the door of the refrigerator open for the tray.  Experienced kitchen workers had a magic all their own, you decided.

Finally, all the preparations were complete.  You rejoined the second year crew in the cafeteria to have some tea to celebrate.  With work finished, everyone was far more mellow.  Riddle was smiling cheerfully at something Kalim had said.  Azul was trying to rope Jamil into a temporary job at the Mostro Lounge while they had so many extra guests.  “How about you, Ruggie,” you enquired of the hyena beastman sitting beside you, “Are you planning to put in extra time at the lounge or enjoy the dance?”  He rolls his eyes at you, “The lounge of course.  I’ve got to make my madol when the opportunity presents itself.  Azul is so hard up for help that I’m getting double pay from him all week.  Shishishi!” 

“Plus,” Ruggie continues, “The only dates I’m interested in are the ones in this tea cake.  All that romance stuff is nothing but trouble.”  Silver, for once, is alert and listening, “Is that so.  I’ll keep it in mind.”  You quickly jump in, “No that isn’t so, Silver.  Dates can be fun, there is just a lot you must do to set them up.” You think about the planning, picking out an outfit, arranging a meal and everything else.  “But when it comes together, it is great.  Just like what we did here.”  Silver nods, “I see.  I’m learning so much.  Have you finished your preparations, Prefect?”

You hesitate to answer for the reality was that you hadn’t done any preparation at all.  You could have found some formal wear or chosen a place to hang out before or after the dance, but you’d been so hung up on finding a date that you’d neglected all that.  “Well, no but I’m going to start now!”  A pair of twin shadows falls across the table and a voice replies, “Is that so, Prefect?  Well in that case, allow me to offer you a premium reservation at Mostro Lounge for the pre-dance.”  Jade smiles at you from one side, always working some angle.  On the other side, Floyd leans in and says, “Ooh, I want to go shopping with Shrimpy.  What do you say?  I’ll pick out something cool for you. Aha ha!” 

You weren’t sure what the future would hold.  Perhaps you would let Floyd drag you out shopping or take Jade up on his offer, but you rather doubted it.  You think it would mean so much more if you did that work yourself.  It was your first dance at NRC and you wanted it to be as special as possible.  After all, you’d seen what you can accomplish when you properly prepare.  The plain old cafeteria looked like the setting of a fairy tale.  Maybe soon, it would be yours.