#it's a miracle that violet made it as their child

[ladysharmaa]

My miracle

Anthony Bridgerton x reader

summary: Anthony’s wife is in labor and it’s not looking good

warnings: mentions of death

“Where is she?” the loud voice of Anthony was heard in the entire mansion. The door he opened slammed into the wall but he couldn’t care less as he saw some servants running his way to take off his coat. “Tell me where my wife is!”

“My apologies, my Lord.” the poor man trembled under the Lord’s menacingly glare, that were just a cover for the worry and fear that was running though his veins. “The Viscountess is in your chambers. The midwife and your mother are already present with her. Shall I inform your brothers to come and wait with you until the child is born?”

Anthony didn’t bother to respond. He quickly climbed the stairs, two steps at once, seeing with wide eyes as the maids ran to his room with towels in their hands. He doesn't even settle for knocking, immediatly opening the bedroom door. None of his mother's stories could have prepared him for the sight that lay ahead.

His darling wife was drenched in sweat, dressed in her nightdown. One hand was on her round belly protectively while the other was in his mother’s hands, who was whispering words of comfort. Her jaw was clenched in pain and it was only then that he noticed the midwife between the Viscountess legs. 

“You!” Y/n screamed accusingly, managing to point a finger at Anthony with hatred. “You did this to me! You will never ever put your hands on me again!”

“I-” Anthony was at loss of words. He knew that his wife was in pain, and looking like she was ready to kill, so he just nodded his head in agreement. He took slow hesitant steps towards the bed, hoping to comfort her without dying. “I’ll never touch you again, my love. How are you feeling?”

“How do you think I’m feeling? I’m pushing your child that inherited your big head out of my lady parts! So tell me, my dear husband, how am I feeling?”

“Like you are giving birth?”

“Anthony...” his mother whispered while shaking her head in dispair. “You should leave the room. Your brothers must be coming to keep you company. We shall call you when the child is born.” 

“I’m not leaving my wife.” was the only thing he said with firmity, holding Y/n’s hand and kissing her soft skin gently.

She turned to him, a change in her demeanor, eyes full of tears of terror. “I’m scared, Anthony. It hurts.”

“I know it hurts. It’s okay, love. You will be alright and then we will have our child with us.” he whispered. A feeling of guilt washed through him. How could he have made his wife suffer through childbirth? “You are the bravest person I know. So so much braver than me and everyone else. I’m so proud of you.”

"I can't do this. It hurts too much. Make it stop, Anthony, please." Y/n cried.

It was only then that Anthony saw the look in his mother. She was worried, exchanging looks with the midwife. And as much as the Viscount would like to also show his anguish, his first priority was to comfort Y/n. "It's going to be okay, my love. Just a little longer, you're being so strong."

But she no longer had the strength to respond. It was getting harder and harder to keep her eyes open and she just wanted to sleep to escape the pain. Between her legs, an increasingly larger pool of blood was forming. Anthony's eyes were wide and there was enormous pressure in his chest. It felt like I was running out of oxygen, and it only got worse when Y/n finally gave in to unconsciousness.

"What's happening?" he whispered, looking in alarm first at Violet. Afterwards, he turned to the midwife furiously. "What's wrong with her? Help her! Do something!"

"Anthony, you need to leave." Violet advised, trying to remain calm for everyone's sake. Anthony was becoming more and more desperate, tears falling from his eyes as he grabbed his wife's hand tighter and brought it to his lips.

"I'm not going anywhere!"

"Viscount Bridgerton, the baby is in pain. You won't want to see what I'm going to do. I promise I'll try to save both of them." the midwife said, taking a small knife and flying it over Y/n's stomach.

"If you need to choose, save my wife's life." Anthony begged, now more desperate as his mother called his brothers to take him out of the room.

"Anthony..."

"No, mother, you save my wife's life!" Benedict and Collin grabbed the man by the arms and began to carry him outside, despite Anthony's struggle. "You hear me! My wife is going to survive! Let me go! Mother, save Y/n!" he shouted before the door closed in his face. 

The last thing he saw was the woman making the cut on Y/n's stomach, who woke up with a jolt. She then let out a scream that would torment Anthony for the rest of his life.

With a cry of anger mixed with sadness, Anthony broke free from his brothers' grip and put his hands to his face. He didn't want to think about the possibility of losing the love of his life. He simply couldn't take it.

"Wow, Anthony, calm down." Collin whispered when Anthony, in a rage, threw a punch against the wall. "The Viscountess is a fighter. If anyone is capable of overcoming this, it's her."

"You don't tell me to calm down, Collin. Not when my wife is in that room fighting for her life over something I did." he cried, jaw shaking and eyes red that only showed the immense pain he was in. He sat on the floor, leaning his head back and looking at the ceiling. "I need her to live."

"And she will live, brother. I will bring a drink, and we will wait together for news." Benedict said, rushing to bring the alcohol when Y/n's screams became louder.

On one hand, each scream was like a stab in the heart of Anthony, who was increasingly pale and looked like he was going to vomit at any moment. On the other, it was the only way to know she was alive.

Moments passed. The Viscount didn't know if it had been seconds, minutes or hours. Things seemed to be getting mixed up in his mind. Nothing made sense, not when the love of his life was in the next room in pain and he was away from her. He had to protect her, it was his obligation as a husband. And he failed.

And then came the moment when Anthony's heart stopped. A baby's cry was heard, and he allowed himself to smile a little. He had a son or daughter. A mini version of his wife. And then he burst into tears when Y/n stopped screaming and everything became too silent.

It was uncontrollable. He cried without being able to stop, making it even difficult to breathe in. Anthony refused to believe that he would have to raise this child without Y/n. Without her affection, her kindness, her love. He didn't want to open his eyes and realize that all this wasn't a nightmare, but reality.

Benedict and Collin didn't know what to do. But one thing was certain, they would be there to help Anthony with whatever he needed and never let that child forget the wonderful mother he had. Then, Violet left the room holding a pile of blankets that held the baby.

"You have a daughter, Anthony."

He just cried more. His body was shaking and he couldn't even look at his mother and the baby. "Y/n... Is she...?" He took Violet's silence as a yes. "Oh god..."

"Enter the room, Anthony. She is waiting for you."

Anthony had never stood up so quickly in his life. He quickly opened the door, stopping momentarily when he saw the amount of blood on the sheets, but the most important thing was Y/n's half-open eyes. She was alive and looking around the room in confusion.

"Anthony? Where is my baby?" her voice was hoarse and extremely weak.

The man fell to his knees at the edge of her bed, and lowered his head to rest on her chest. A feeling of relief spread throughout his body when he felt the rising and falling movement of her chest, indicating that she was breathing and that it wasn't just his imagination.

"I love you so much." he cried, feeling her hands start stroking his hair. "I'm sorry. You were so brave and strong. I'm so proud of you, my love."

"Where is my baby?" Y/n didn't want to seem like she didn't appreciate Anthony's words because that was a lie. He was the most important person in her life. But at that moment, Y/n just wanted to know where her baby was.

"She's right here, dear." Violet reassured with a smile, announcing her presence.

Very carefully, she passed the child into the arms of her son's wife, her smile widening as the little family was finally together again. The new parents had a gentle smile as they looked at their creation, a new love emerging for this fragile human being.

Anthony kissed Y/n's temple. "We have a daughter."

"She is beautiful."

"She takes after her mother." Anthony quickly said, never feeling so much love as he did in that moment. 

He was extremely proud of Y/n admiring her strength and courage. Now, he was going to protect his two girls until the end of his life. Nothing was more important than his family.

[sapphire-writes]

My Dragon ~ Aemond x wife!Reader

warnings: mentions of Aemond's eye injury, some angst & fluff

word count: 1.0k

note: pure fluffy dad!Aemond goodness! was stuck on this idea for a while, hope you enjoy this little piece!

masterlist

You returned to your chambers after a long day, desperate for nothing more than a long, hot bath and the soft furs of the bed you shared with your husband. You had spent the day with your good sister Helaena. Though once only sisters through friendship, you were truly sisters now after the marriage to her younger brother. 

As you opened the doors to your chambers, it was unusually quiet. You closed the door behind you, listening to the crackling of the hearth. You spot the back of Aemond’s head, seated on the settee facing the dancing flames. His head is angled downwards; no doubt he has stayed up late with his nose in a book as you often find him. 

Though he never admits it after the fact, you’d caught him on more than one occasion fast asleep on the settee or in his chair, a book open-faced in his lap. 

You smile softly as you approach, careful not to startle him. 

“My love…” you call softly, to which Aemond turns his head. 

He purses his lips slightly, bringing a hand to his mouth shushing you. Your eyebrows concave together in confusion, which ebbs as you walk closer. Aemond has forgotten his usual book this evening; instead, your sleeping daughter rests her head on his lap, fast asleep, her small chest rising and falling with each breath. 

Her silver curls are splayed every which way, her nose whistling with every breath she exhales. 

“It is late my love,” you playfully tease, keeping your voice a low whisper so as not to wake her.

“I know,” Aemond says, his voice just as soft, “We lost track of time.”

You smile, walking behind him to place your hands on his shoulders. Though only in her fourth year of life, your little dragon has the Targaryen prince wrapped around her little finger. Aemond brings a hand to rest on top of yours, pulling it from his shoulder and pressing a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. 

“Did you have a nice time?” he murmurs against the back of your hand, his breath causing gooseflesh to appear. 

You hum in response. “I did. You know how I enjoy spending time with Helaena. Though I must admit, my legs do ache.”

You had spent most of the day walking through the gardens with the princess, helping her add to her collection of curious creatures and oddities. You loved Helaena’s hobbies and were more than happy to indulge her. But the day was long under the hot summer sun, and it left you eager for bed. 

“Shall I call for someone to draw you a bath?” Aemond asks as you lean to rest your chin on his shoulder.

“It tis alright,” you assure him, “Do not trouble yourself.”

“It is no trouble, you know this,” he insists, glancing at you sideways. You made sure to rest upon the shoulder where he can see you with his functioning eye. 

You remove your hand from him, caressing the leather eyepatch he wears. 

“You must be uncomfortable,” you tell him softly, stroking the worn leather. It begins to irritate him on days such as this one when the heat causes the leather to chafe the skin of his cheek. 

The weather is strange these days, getting so hot during the day and then dropping significantly during the night. Aemond’s violet eye flickers down at your sleeping child. How perfect she looks, the perfect combination of both of you. A miracle made of your love. You sense his hesitation.

“She shall not be afraid, my love,” you assure him.

“How can you know?” he says, looking down away from your comforting gaze. 

Aemond had always been fearful of how others reacted to his injury. You remembered in your youth before he had begun courting you, how you’d learned of why he wore the patch. It was Helaena who informed you that Aemond wished to not frighten the ladies of the court.

“Prince Aemond should not wish for a weak stomached woman anyhow,” you had snapped, as other ladies had snickered at his injury. “Women say they wish to marry a warrior, then faint at the scars from battle. How distasteful.” 

Helaena had told Aemond how you’d come to his defense. You’d been the apple of the Prince’s eye ever since. Well, until the birth of your little one. Two women now completely owned the dragon prince’s heart. 

“A mother’s intuition,” you assure him, moving to remove the patch. Aemond freezes for a moment but relaxes into your touch as you place the eyepatch on the table, revealing his magnificent sapphire. 

You stroke your finger along the scar, admiring how the sapphire reflects the light from the hearth. 

“My dragon,” you murmur, cupping his sharp chin in your hand, and pressing a gentle kiss to the scarred tissue. 

Aemond sighs, his chest rumbling. You can see a flicker of desire in his violet eye at your praise. Your daughter stirs then, perfect face scrunching as her pale lashes flutter open. She looks up at you with wide violet eyes before throwing her small arms around your neck.

“Muña!” she says sleepily, arms heavy around your neck. 

“Hello my love,” you softly croon, pulling her completely into your arms, “How was your day?”

She buries her face into the crook of your neck and you inhale the lilac scent of her hair. How you enjoy the moments with your companions, but oh how you miss your daughter by the end.

“We went exploring all day! And we went flying on Vhagar,” she chatters away, “Sunfyre even joined us! Kepus flew right next to us!”

“Did he now?” you ask with a chuckle. Aegon was a surprisingly delightful uncle. 

Aemond stands then, still facing slightly away. You reach for his hand, pulling him closer. Your daughter looks at him, the smile never leaving her face. Aemond turns his head slowly, revealing the scarred tissue and brilliant sapphire. You hold your breath, waiting for your little girl’s reaction. 

She stares, unblinking, before reaching out to touch his face. 

“Blue is my favorite color,” she informs, turning back to you, “Did you know Sunfyre likes to sing? I don’t think Vhagar enjoys singing, her songs are rather deep. It shakes the windows of the Keep! Muñāzma was quite cross with her!”

You glance at your husband, watching his cheeks turn red. You smile so brightly that your cheeks begin to ache. There was never anything for him to fear. She adores him all the same.

As do you.

[marymary-diva17]

Hello. Maybe you could write a bridgertoon story where the y/n is forced to marry an abusive partner? And, after his death, y/n turned into a really famous person as the only heir to his husband fortune? Maybe they couldn't have children because of the husband infertility?

Marriage in Ton society and regency era could either be a warm or cold. A society built on that marriage is everything and anyone should be, lucky enough to get marred to any suitors that came calling. When for one young women she had gotten a cold marriage, and a cold life away from her family and everyone else she held close.

y/n " ......." you are sitting in drawing room of your husband house in the countryside. The peace and quiet was something that made you happy, but you still miss your family and friends back in London.

Butler " my lady my lordship Alexander said he shall not be home for dinner once again" your husband Alexander was not the best of husbands, among the ton and that was very easy for everyone in the house to see.

y/n " thank you for telling me"

Maid " what shall we do about the dinner plans"

y/n " well we still have the dinner we can't let the chef hard planing go to waste, that will be rude and something I rather not have happen"

Maid " yes my lady" the maid and butler had exchange looks with each other, that had gained your attention as you soon cleared your throat.

y/n " why don't you both have a sit as it seems like you two have something, to speak and I will love to hear it"

butler " yes my lady" the butler and maid soon sat down on the couch facing you.

Maid " my lady all the staff has noticed and been talking about the lord and his family .... how could you stay with someone who so cold towards you, they have been blaming you for not having a child yet and everything else"

bulter " you are kindhearted my lady and we having you here with us"

y/n " thank you all for being worried about me and caring for me as well, I stay with him because his family is in business with mine I need to do what best for my family .... as I love them dearly and rather not have my broken marriage effect them"

maid " so what will you do my lady spend the rest of your life with the lord and his family"

y/n " yes for the sake of my family, the staff, and the towns near by as it seems like my husband and in laws have failed on their duties here"

butler " you are great at both my lady everyone has bene benefiting since you came here, and started helping around"

y/n " that brings a smile to my face"

Maid " you know you could write to lady whistle down and have her teach him something, and we know so much about him to his life here and his affairs"

y/n " I will love to but we shall stay away from that"

Butler " maybe in time a miracle might come" soon the door bell had rang getting everyone attention.

butler " I shall get the door my lady" the butler soon got up as he had went to go answer the door, as the maid had soon stood up from her seat.

butler " my lady you have some guests that have come to pay a visit"

y/n " who are our guests"

butler " your family" you eyes had soon widen as you got up to see you whole family walked into the drawing room.

Violet " dearest" Voilet soon hugged you as you looked at her and your siblings, happy to see them as well missed them all dearly.

y/n " mother siblings welcome I didn't know you all will be coming"

Anthony " well our dear mother had become worried and missed you, so we all came to see you my dear sister"

Colin " don't like you missed her as well brother"

Daphne " we hope we are not interrupting anything sister"

y/n " oh no it good to see you all here"

Maid " I will get some more sweets and tea for our guests my lady"

y/n " thank you "

bulter " I will inform the staff our our guest and the chef as well, if we have guest over for dinner"

Benedict " we will love to if our sister shall have us"

y/n " yes you all can stay for dinner"

Bulter " then I will make sure everything is ready and send word to my lordship" the butler and maid soon left leave you with your family, as everyone took a sit.

Eloise " dear sister I love the books you have here"

y/n " well I'm happy you do they are all ones from home and ones I brought as well"

Francesca " such a beautiful garden as well sister"

y/n " thank you all I and my staff have done so much work on this home"

Gregory " where is Alexander I thought he will be here as well"

Hyacinth " don't ask for anything like that Gregory that is highly rude"

y/n " it okay there have been some other matters that kept him away"

Anthony " I was hoping to have some words with him but, that can wait for later on dear sister"

Voilet " yes let enjoy our time here with your sister ... so how has married life been my dear"

y/n " it been okay there is much things to get use to mother, but it has been okay here mother"

Daphne " sister you most come attend lady Danbury ball with us, along with your husband it shall be fun"

y/n " I will ask my husband if he wishes to attend he not that much into balls"

Colin " you can still some with us sister it will be fun and maybe you can, help save us from mama trying to find us wives or husband"

y/n " dear brother I don't think I can help with that"

Voilet " well a mother most always look out for her children,even when they are married"

Maid " I have brought over some tea and sweets my lady"

y/n " thank you"

Maid " word has been sent to your husband about out guests"

y/n " good thank you we will call if we need any help" the maid had nodded her head before she walked off, leaving the family together.

y/n " well let enjoy some sweets and tea"

Gregory " my favorite sister you remember"

y/n " I always remember little brother now enjoy" as you younger siblings began to enjoy their sweets and making conversation, you are happy to have you family here but you worry about what they will see and hear.

Later that evening

y/n " It has been good to have you all here today as I have longed for home and family as well"

Colin " well maybe you can stay in London for sometime as you are no longer be away from us, and you can still attend all the social events as well"

Benedict " maybe even help antony finally found a wife where mother has failed"

Anthony " our brothers could use marriage as well sister don't forget them"

Voilet " boy nor fighting in your sister home"

Anthony/Colin/ Benedict " yes mother" there was soon a loud bang on the front door, you knew it was your husband Alexander returning home.

Butler " welcome home my lord"

Alexander " yes I'm finally home"

Alexander " y/n where are you my wife we need to talk" you soon looked at your siblings as they look at you as well. You had soon slowly got up and went to go meet you husband.

y/n " yes Alexander I'm here"

Alexander " good you can hear me and you are here"

y/n " Alexander my family is here we need to clam down"

Alexander " hello bridgertons welcome I didn't know you all will be here"

Colin " my sister had sent word to you Alexander"

Alexander " oh yes that letter I didn't have time to read your sister notes, I have more important matters to deal with then her"

Benedict " well if you most know we came here to see our sister your wife, and to talk about business as well later on"

Daphne " sister are you okay you seem overwhelmed"

y/n " I'm good Daphne I and my husband will go speak in other room"

Alexander " yes my wife correct as we shouldn't fight in front of others" Alexander and you had soon left the room to go speak into other room.

Alexander " my wife why I have been told you were paying off some bills"

y/n " well they were left overdue and I wanted to make sure all the workers got paid, for all they had done Alexander as they haven't gotten paid by you or your family it unfair"

Alexander " you are my wife you have no reason and power to go behind my back and my family as well, remember you standing in the family" Alexander was yelling at you loudly getting everyone out of their seats, as your brother and mother made their way towards you.

Alexander " when I was told I was to marry you I will get a wonderful wife who will give me children, and be good for my family but you have failed at the job time to time again ... I would of been better off I married your sister daphne or one other better ladies of the ton then you"

Alexander " now you are going around acting like you are better then me, when are you just nothing you will never be as beautiful as your sister and never worthy enough as your brothers.... I'm happy I have another women as a wife as I rather be with her then the like of you, even my family and her have asked me to divorce you and marry her ... then everything for you will be over all because of me ...." soon Alexander had gotten punch in the jaw by Colin who was standing over him.

Colin " don't you dare speak of my sister like that you fool"

y/n " Colin"

Alexander " you foolish boy" Alexander had gotten up and hit Colin back, but that when someone else had hit Alexander hard enough making him fall down.

Benedict " sister are you okay"

y/n " yes Colin" you soon went to attend to your younger brother who looked hurt.

y/n " are you okay Colin"

Colin " I'm fine sister I came to see who you were doing when I heard him yelling at you"

Anthony " Alexander" you and your brothers had looked up to see your mother, Anthony, and sisters standing there as they looked on.

Voilet "my children what has happened to you three"

Benedict " this foolish man had hit your son for defending his sister, from her horrible husband"

Colin " he was speaking poorly about her and said he was cheating on her, and wish to divorce she to be with their other women .... him and his lover family support this scandalous relationship and wish to ruin our sister"

Anthony " Alexander"

Alexander " she is failure and has failed to give me child, good mother where have you gone wrong with her" Violet glared at the man and soon walked up to him, and then she had slapped him hard in the face leaving a mark.

Daphne & Eloise " mother"

Violet " dearest you are coming with us and staying with us until, we can help you end your marriage with this awful man for good"

y/n " yes mother"

elosie " come on sister lets go we are here for you"

Daphne " I hope lady whistle down find out about this and bring ruin to your family Alexander" you family had taken you to their home that night, as you stayed up and told your mother and Anthony everything.The rest of the family soon knew and had been there for comfort you, as everything made you feel good now being with them. Soon the ton had found out about your marriage ending, as you returned home.

Weeks later

Anthony " sister I'm sorry I couldn't help you I thought this marriage will be good for you ...."

y/n " brother yo have noting to say sorry about I should to spoke up but I was scared it will all effect you in a bad way"

Violet " now we are here as a family and will shall defend you from your ex husband and his family"

y/n " thank you all"

Violet " Alexander is a cruel person but you shall not let him win, as you will move on with your life in time and live your best life my daughter"

y/n " thank you mother"

Colin " sister mother brother"

violet " we are in here dear" soon the rest of your siblings had come into the room.

Daphne " sister you have been mentioned in the newest article of lady whistle down"

y/n " what"

Eloise " yes it seems like lady whistle down had been told of you marriage, and she had dug up the truth and wrote all about it" you had read the article word for word, and saw it spoke the truth as you looked at your family. Your mother had soon read the article and pass it towards Anthony who read it.

Benedict " well it looks like lady whistle down is a fan of your sister, and see how this has so much details on all your ex husband and his family, along with that women and her family it safe to say you will have some peace"

Anthony " I will remind the staff if any of them come to send them away, if they leave any letter we will look into them and toss away any stupid gifts"

y/n " thank you brother " you had been able to find peace and happinesses back at home, making a life of your own as well. The faith if your ex husband and his family, along with his lover and her family had been well know among the ton. They had to pay your well in the divorce settlement and had kicked out from their social circles, as well many engagements had been called off as well. It seems like the ones who were saying they were going to have a better, life didn't end up getting at in the end. A perfect husband will come for you the next year and you will find the happiness, you always wanted and dreamed off at the end.

[slavicdelight]

HIRAETH

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Targ! Royce! f! reader

Summary: Hiraeth - A Welsh word meaning a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return; a home which maybe never was. Nostalgia, yearning, and grief, for the lost places of your past or a sense of home.

Warnings: blood, murder, violence, angst, canon divergence

A/N: This is part 2 of EPHEMERAL

ღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღ

You awoke to the sound of crashing outside your chambers. Looking at the other side of the bed, you noticed that Aemond wasn’t there and the spot he occupied is cold, which means he has been gone for a while now. You stretched your arms and decided to get up to check the sound, only to find out that the doors were closed and you couldn’t get out. With a scowl, you tried to pry the entrance open, and when that didn’t work you banged on the wood and called out for help. The loud noise woke your daughter up as she started crying for attention, and you decided to stop your efforts and comfort her. “Good morning my dear girl.” you greeted Alysanne while picking her up from the cradle. “Oh, I’m sorry to have woken you little dragon. Did you sleep fine?” you asked and rocked her back and forth to calm her. When she opened her violet eyes to look at you, the love overcame you even stronger, she was your miracle, you didn’t know earlier that you could love someone as much as you did her. Nothing is equal to a mother’s love. You were so mesmerized by her, that you weren’t aware of the door opening and your husband walking in. Aemond stood in the doorway looking at you both, his heart warming up at the picture in front of his eye. You, his beloved wife, looked ethereal as always. The rays of sunshine, that burst through the window made the skin on your face glowing, and your attire added to the notion of thinking you an angel. Seeing you holding Alysanne, the epitome of the love you both share, made the sight even more beautiful. He slowly walked closer and placed his hands around your waist, making you jump a little.

“Aemond! You have frightened me!” you scolded him, turning to stand with him face to face. “I am extremely sorry, my love. It was not my intention.” he apologised with a faint smile, but the tone of his voice made you worried. There was something tense in it, and you wondered if it had anything to do with you being held in the room. “What’s wrong?” you asked him, making him sigh. He took the little girl from your arms, placing her back in the cradle, much to her protests, and led you to sit on the bed. You complied and waited eagerly for his answer, which he provided in an uneasy voice. “King Viserys is dead.” you sucked in your breath. The news wasn’t exactly unpredictable, but it still caught you off guard. While the king didn’t pay you much attention growing up, he was still your uncle, your blood, and that made you somewhat sad. “Oh.” was the only thing that left your mouth, as you were processing what you just learned, but your husband wasn’t done yet. “Apparently, he wished for Aegon to succeed him.” and with that your head whipped around to look at him so fast, that one could thing you broke the neck. This was new, as for years Viserys did nothing, but defend Rhaenyras claim to the throne and her position as heir, neglecting his other children in turn. Aegon as king was a bizarre thought. You also saw the distaste in Aemond’s features once he shared the news, everyone at court knew he detested his brother for everything he put him through as a child, and for being a useless waste of space. “I’m so sorry Aemond.” you told him, grabbing one of his hands to squeeze in a comforting manner. “For what? We all knew it would happen sooner or later.” you got up to stand before him and looking straight into his eyes you said “Yes, but he was still your father. You’re allowed to mourn for him” he stood up angrily and turned away to look into the burning flames in the fireplace

“He never noticed me. He never noticed any of us. It was always Rhaenyra for him. It was af if we were not his children, more like distant relatives he only had to see once in a while. He was no father to me. Criston Cole was more of a father than he was.” you walked to him and hugged his back, placing you chin on his shoulder. “What’s done is done. We need to get ready for our duties and coronation of a new king.” he said turning to you and kissing you on your forhead. In that moment a servant appeared and told your husband that his grandsire wished to see him. That left you alone in the chamber and you decided to call the maids to dress you and Alysanne for the day, as you were planning to check on Helaena and see how she was holding up. You chose one of your many beautiful sapphire gowns with long sleeves and dragons embroidered on the skirt, it was a gift from Aemond. The color resembles the eye he hides under the eyepatch. You also own a big collection of sapphire jewellery, the common folk taken to calling you and your husband the Sapphire Prince and Princess.

You sat with Heleana as the children played together with the maids watching over them. “How are you feeling, Hel? With the pressure of being crowned queen soon enough.” you asked your friend. “There is a beast beneath the boards.” she muttered, but quickly recvered to ansewr your question. “To speak truthfully, I don’t know. I never wanted the crown, all I wish for is spending time with my children, away from all these schemes and politics.” she said in a sad voice. You reached over to take her hand, which she accepted. It was known that Helaena did not like touching, but you were her sister, her dearest friend, and for that reason you were the exception. “I’m sorry about all of this. It shouldn’t have been your burden to carry.” it was a pity that she was married to Aegon, he didn’t deserve her. Soon Queen Alicent came to join you for tea and the three of you tried to forget about what was to come, if only for a little while.

time skip

It was time to crown the new king. You, Aemond, and Helaena stood in the Dragon Pit, watching people flooding in. Otto proposed to hold the ceremony before the eyes of common folk, so that they would recognize Aegon as the rightful king. It was a smart move, you have to admit that, but you knew that it would not stop Daemon and Rhaenyra from trying to take the throne back. In truth you didn’t care who sat the throne, all you wanted was to fly back to Runestone with your husband and daughter and live your life peacefully there. You begged Alicent to let you leave, that you wanted nothing to do with their schemes, but it all fell of deaf ears. She only told you that it was Aemonds duty to stand by his brother’s side, and as his wife, you should support him. Aemond noticed you anxiously playing with the ring on your finger and placed a hand on your back to help you ease up a bit. In that moment you saw Alicent arrive at the scene, which means Aegon is outside and the coronation is going to start. “People of King’s Landing. It is the saddest of days. King Viserys the Peaceful passed away.” started Otto Hightower and you heard the murmuring all around the pit. “It is also a joyous day, as he left us with his final wish for his son Aegon to succeed him.” The soldiers marched into the room creating a path for the late king’s eldest son to walk towards the stand. Once Ser Criston Cole placed the Conqueror’s crown atop his head, he stood up and looked at every member of his family for approval. When his eyes landed on you, you gave him a quick courtesy with a clenched jaw. He then turned to the crowd and lifted the sword, Blackfyre, and you could’ve swear that in that moment, he started to like his new position and power.

A few seconds later the happy shouts became screams of terror, as the ground began to fall and from below emerged a red dragon. It was Meleys with Princess Rhaenys at her back. The Red Queen came closer to where you all stood. Aemond quickly put you and Helaena behind himself for protection, and you noticed Alicent doing the same with Aegon in the corner of your eye. You thought to yourself that that was it, you would all die in the flames, but the dragon only roaerd in your faces and Rhaenys escaped, no doubt to Dragonstone to inform Rhaenyra and your father of what transpired. The image of Daemon made you shiver, now you were sure that he will be out for your blood.

Once in the safety of the castle, you hastily made way to the nursery to be with your daughter. You found her in the arms of one of the maids. You put her on the rug and started playing with her. About half an hour later Aemond came into the room. “They’re sending me to Storm’s End as an envoy. I’m to bind Lord Borros’ loyalty to our cause.” you frowned and tried to talk him out of it. “No. Have them send someone else and let us go back to the Vale.” you saw him lower his gaze and try to stop you, but you didn’t let him. “You know that Daemon won’t let this slide, he will be out for revenge against his wife! I don’t want us to be caught in the crossfire!”. “Aegon’s my brother. I have to do this, as it is my duty. I will go and offer the Baratheon fool Daeron’s hand in marriage to his daughter. I will be back before you know it.”. You didn’t like it and had a bad feeling, but you knew how stubborn your husband is and there will be no talking him out of it. You let him go, and for the next couple of days, you stayed close with Helaena and Alysanne. Finally, when you heard the unmistaken sound of Vhagar, you were elated, as it meant your dearest husband was back. Without a thought, you sprinted towards the council chamber where you knew he would head first. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what you heard next. Aemond Targaryen committed the greatest sin known to men - kinslaying. He murdered his nephew, Lucerys Velaryon in the skies, while chasing him on his war dragon. “You have lost only one eye, how could you be so blind?!” chastised him Otto Hightower, while the new king sat and laughed in delight. “You have doomed us all!” screamed Alicent and you were just horrified. You knew they would retaliate, ater all, your husband killed Rhaenyra’s favourite child. Your head kept spinning as images of could they do now invaded your mind. “The bastard is dead. Others would be soon too. It seems to me that we ought to have a feast in my beloved brother’s honour.” said Aegon and made no room to argue, while you just got up and ran back to your chambers.

When you entered your rooms, the tears spilled. You cried for the boy, for your husband and for yourself, but most importantly, you cried for your daughter. Now there was no way for you all to return to normal life, not when your husband began the war, that will certainly become marred with even more bloodshed soon enough. Aemond walked into the room not much later, and flinched when he heard your desperate cries. When he tried to touch you, you just backed into the corner. “Do not touch me!” you screamed, trying to compose yourself. “How could you?! Do you have any idea what you have done?!” you continued yelling. It was a good thing Alysanne was left under the care of Helaena and wasn’t there to witness the fight of her parents. “My love…” he started but you cut him off. “No! Don’t you dare! You put all of us in grave danger! They will want blood for this! My father won’t stop until he avenges Luke! Blood will flow this castle! There would be no peace for us! No mercy!” you started hyperventilating, you were having a panic attack. “Darling please, listen to me. I didn’t mean for it to happen. Vhagar didn’t listen to my commands. She devoured him on her own accord.” you just looked at him, your gaze full of hurt and fear, it broke his heart seeing you like this. “Your mother is right. You have doomed us all! You shouldn’t chase him in the first place, what did you expect to happen!?”. He noticed you shaking and took you into his arms as you tried to break free. After a minute of struggle, your energy drained out and you just accepted the hug, just laying in his embrace motionless. As much as you hated him for what he’s done, you loved him way to much to be angry for long. Now you needed to focus on protecting your family, no matter the cost, as you knew that the payment will come sooner or later.

It wasn’t until one night, when your husband was away gathering support for Team Green, that the retaliation for Lucerys came. You and Helaena were on your way to Queen Dowager’s chambers with your children, as it was a routine lately, to spend some time before heading to bed. Once you entered the chambers, you saw Alicent Hightower gagged and bound, as well as two unfamiliar men standing inside the room. Both quickly overpowered you and the princess and barred the door. “Tis’ nothing personal. A debt to be paid. Nothin’ more” said one while they both took the children captive. “The False Queen needs to choose, which son has to die. Fast before we make the choice ourselves.” said the other assailant. “Please! They’re innocent, spare them.” you tried pleading with them as Helaena offered hersef in the children’s place. “A queen is not a son.” said one man and ushered her to make a choice. You tried to get to the children but there was no way for you to do so, without harming the children in the process. “Maelor.” Helaena whispered. The younger son was still at the age where he didn’t understand what was happening around him, same as your daughter. “You heard that boy? Your mommy doesn’t love you” as while saying that, the man cut off the head of Jeahaerys, the oldest son of Aegon and Helaena, and the other one repeatedly stabbed little Alysanne in her cheast and belly. “NO!” you screamed as you saw the man throwing your daughter’s lifeless body, as if it was a useless rag. You and Helaena quickly made way to you fallen children weeping so horribly, that the whole castle heard it. The sound of grieving mothers tore through the walls, making anyone who heard it flinch. “No, no, no, no..”you muttered holding your daughter. “My light, please, open your eyes. Please.” you wailed as you rocked her in your arms, pleading to the Gods for it to be an awful nightmare. It was not an awful nightmare, but rather dreadful reality. The only thing you heard except for yours, Helaena and Alicent’s crying was the escape of the murderers and words “Black Queen sends her regards”.

While you were being attacked, your husband returned to the keep and immediately went to find you. Once in the castle, he heard the screams leading to his mother’s apartments and he hastily made way there, along with Aegon and Ser Criston Cole. They found the door barricaded and called for more guards to help remove the obstacle, and when it was done, they saw the most horrifying scene. Dead bodies of their children, weeping wives and their mother tired up and gagged. When Queen Dowager explained them what took place, they went inot the state of madness, Aegon started yelling how could the guards let it happen, that he wanted the men found and brought to him, he was inconsolable. Aemond on the other hand stood frozen, he knew it happened because of him,. His nephew and his daughter, his beloved Alysanne, were ripped away from this world because of his own stupidity. He caused that and he couldn’t even look into your eyes, nor Helaena’s. He was overcome with grief and loathing for his actions, but he knew he had to be strong for you, even though he wanted to break down into tears himself. “My love…” he tried to get your attention, but you were focused on your daughter’s face. You dress soaked in her blood, as you stroked her hair singing her favourite lullaby. There was no way for you to let go of her, your state was truly horrible. After sitting there for hours, Silent Sisters came to collect the body, but you didn’t want to part with her, with your sweet Alysanne. Aemond came up to you. “Darling���she’s gone. You have to give her to them. They need to prepare her for the funeral.” you were reluctant, but Aemond finally managed to convince you to let go of her body.

For weeks after that you were closed off, not going out of your chambers, dismissing everything that happened around you. You couldn’t bear the grief and the emptiness this brought you. Even at the funeral you blocked it all out, when the children’s bodies were shown to the people of King’s Landing declaring it to be work of “Rhaenyra the Cruel”. All you wanted was your daughter, but you couldn’t have her, as she was so cruelly taken from you. At the battle at Rook’s Rest Aegon got badly injured, it was a miracle he even pulled through, and your husband was crowned Prince Regent to rule in his stead untill the king recovers. He gathered the army and with the new Hand of the King, Ser Criston, he marched on Harrenhall. Aemond feared leaving you alone and decided it would be best to bring you along. During your stay there, your husband ordered the extermination of house Strong. No one was spared, but a witch named Alys Rivers, who Aemond taksed with your recovery. You and the bastard woman became fastly friends, and she helped you find the courage to join your husband on the battlefield. You wanted revenge and you were out for blood. Soon enough along with Aemond you were terrorizing the Riverlands and became a symbol of death, as you burned every keep, and every lord known to be loyal to the blacks. Vhagar and Canniball were a formidable duo that spread fear all around the realm.

Eventually, when you were away from Harrenhall, your husband received a letter from your father Daemon, that he’s waiting for him and wishes to battle. Without telling you, he made way towards the God’s Eye and without fear fought against your father. After you found the letter, you jumped atop the Canniball and flew towards the battlefield, only to arrive to late, as you witnessed Daemon jumping off Caraxes’ back and plunging Dark Sister into your Aemond’s good eye. You screamed seeing this and urged your dragon to fly faster. Aemond and Vhagar fell into the waters and sank into the lake, as you took on Daemon and Caraxes to avenge your family. The battle was tough, but you emerged victorious, thanks to stabbing your father straight through his neck. As you landed on the shore, you weeped. For your daughter, your husband, your mother who were all killed by Daemon Targaryen, as well as Helaena who committed suicide by throwing herself from the tower, landing on spikes. You were alone, you lost everything. You and Alys went into hiding, up until hearing the news of the death of Rhaenyra. Aegon fed her to his dragon Sunfyre, while her young son watched. Soon enough the king was poisoned by his own men, Alicent was confined to her chambers and was said to go insane. It was too much for you. All you wanted was to be back with your family, that’s why one day, when Alys wasn’t there, you decided to drink poison. Just before going to bed, you took a sip, and faded away into dreamland, where you saw your husband and your daughter eagerly waiting for you. You knew that you could spend eternity together.

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A/N: Alright guys. The second part is here. Thank you for all the support you shown me on my first post. Soon I'll be posting more stuff on this page so stay tuned ♡.

@heavenly1927 @marihoneywk @nyenye

[talonabraxas]

Ascension Tree Talon Abraxas The Origin of the Christmas Tree A Recent Christian Tradition Whose Roots Are Ancient and Pagan The custom of the Christmas tree is a very recent institution. It is of a late date not only in Russia, but also in Germany, where it was first established and whence it spread everywhere, in the New as well as in the Old World. In France the Christmas tree was adopted only after the Franco-German war, later therefore than 1870. According to Prussian chronicles, the custom of lighting the Christmas tree as we now find it in Germany was established about a hundred years ago. It penetrated into Russia about 1830, and was very soon adopted throughout the Empire and the richer classes.

It is very difficult to trace the custom historically. Its origin belongs undeniably to the highest antiquity. Fir trees have ever been held in honour by the ancient nations of Europe. As ever-green plants, and symbols of never-dying vegetation, they were sacred to the nature-deities, such as Pan, Isis and others. According to ancient folklore the pine was born from the body of the nymph Pitys (the Greek name of that tree), the beloved of the gods Pan and Boreas. During the vernal festivals in honour of the great goddess of Nature, fir trees were brought into the temples decorated with fragrant violets.

The ancient Northern peoples of Europe had a like reverence for the pine and fir trees in general, and made great use of them at their various festivals. Thus, for instance, it is well known that the pagan priests of ancient Germany, when celebrating the first stage of the sun’s return toward the vernal equinox, held in their hands highly ornamented pine branches.  And this points to the great probability of the now Christian custom of lighting Christmas trees being the echo of the pagan custom of regarding the pine as a symbol of a solar festival, the precursor of the birth of the Sun.  It stands to reason that its adoption and establishment in Christian Germany imparted to it a new, and so to speak, Christian form. Thence fresh legends – as is always the case – explaining in their own way the origin of the ancient custom. We know of one such legend, remarkably poetical in its charming simplicity, which purports to give the origin of this now universally prevailing custom of ornamenting Christmas trees with lighted wax tapers.

Near the cave in which was born the Saviour of the world grew three trees – a pine, an olive, and a palm. On that holy eve when the guiding star of Bethlehem appeared in the heavens, that star which announced to the long-suffering world the birth of Him, who brought to mankind the glad tidings of a blissful hope, all nature rejoiced and is said to have carried to the feet of the Infant-God her best and holiest gifts.

Among others the olive tree that grew at the entrance of the cave of Bethlehem brought forth its golden fruits; the palm offered to the Babe its green and shadowy vault, as a protection against heat and storm; alone the pine had nothing to offer. The poor tree stood in dismay and sorrow, vainly trying to think what it could present as a gift to the Child-Christ. Its branches were painfully drooping, and the intense agony of its grief finally forced from its bark and branches a flood of hot transparent tears, whose large resinous and gummy drops fell thick and fast around it.

A silent star, twinkling in the blue canopy of heaven, perceived these tears; and forthwith, confabulating with her companions – lo, a miracle took place.

Hosts of shooting stars fell down, like unto a great rain shower, on the pine until they twinkled and shone from every needle, from top to bottom.  Then trembling with joyful emotion, the pine proudly raised her drooping branches and appeared for the first time before the eyes of a wondering world, in most dazzling brightness.  From that time, the legend tells us, men adopted the habit of ornamenting the pine tree on Christmas Eve with numberless lighted candles.

[widowling]

As self indulgent as it is, I kind of love the idea of Rook being Solas and Lavellan's time traveling baby.

Like, who knows how time works in the Fade. Maybe it's not so linear. I think part of the reason why Elves started to age after Solas erected the Veil is because it kick-started the process of linear time in Thedas. Before the Veil, the elves were eternal, the titans were eternal, and afterwards they were shattered and quickened to the passing of time.

But behind the Veil, in the Fade, past and present and future is all happening at once. So I don't think its so far-fetched from like a lore perspective to headcanon Rook as being born in the Fade, and then being placed outside of it at a particular time and place.

I'm thinking of Solas and Lavellan having a miracle baby in the Fade. Then after the baby is born, they look at them and recognise them. It's a tragedy. They know they have to give the baby up, because they already have, in a time paradox kind of way. For Solas, it is a part of his atonement. For Lavellan, it is another thing she must give up in order to save the world.

I think this works especially well for a mourn watcher Rook, who was discovered in the Necropolis as a baby. I imagine the spirits in the Necropolis watching out for baby Rook, slipping back to the Fade with regular updates for Solas and Lavellan. (Thinking about a Lavellan who knows Rook eventually romances Emmrich acknowledging that Emmrich is already there and Solas just screaming crying throwing up). It kind of works with a Shadow Dragon Rook too if you think of it as Lavellan sending her baby in the general direction of their Uncle Dorian. I don't know how it might fit with the other factions, cause those are the only two I have played so far.

I'm imagining Rook discovering the truth about their parentage and being all "I was so caught up in the euphoria of Inquisitor Lavellan being my mother that I forgot it meant that Solas is my father."

Or, maybe, you know, its not that literal. Maybe its more like how Kelsier sees Vin in Mistborn. Solas sees himself in Rook, that cocky, foolhardy youth he used to be. That recklessness, the passion, and rebellious nature. Maybe Solas kind of hates Rook for it, in the same way he hates himself. Then he sees Rook's kindness, their loyalty, their empathy, and he thinks 'that's not me. That's Lavellan' and suddenly he's looking into a mirror thats showing him a thing he could have had if he had made a different choice. He thinks, if he had stayed, if he and Lavellan had had a child, then he hopes they would have been just like Rook.

Anyway, I indulged and made Rook into a solavellan love child. His name is Revas, because of course it is. I think for a canon playthrough, he would probably be a mourn watcher mage, because both his parents are mages, but for now I wanted to play a different class and faction than my first playthrough.

He looks just like his mama, but he has his father's violet eyes.

[onceinawhilemoon]

The World Hinges on Small Details: Jon vs. Sherlock and The Hand-Me-Down Quest

This quest intrigues me so much. It not only raises questions about Jon's “nature”, but also gives us a glimpse of where Sherlock's focus on the small details, and therefore his struggle to see the big picture, came from.

If you're as intrigued by this quest as I am, read ahead, but before we continue, I highly encourage you to go read @spiteful-crow ‘s wonderful writeup on Jon and Sherlock and the Jungian concepts of “anima” and “persona” (here) if you haven't already. Not only does it explain a lot about them and what/who Jon is, but that analysis also serves as a pretty solid basis for most of this one, and it will help make it make sense, I hope!

Under the cut we go-

Quick recap of The Hand-Me-Down quest: Jon notices a first of three riddles engraved on top of a monument called “The Silver Hand” in Old City, and convinces Sherlock to solve them, saying that the riddles lead to a lost treasure. Sherlock is bewildered by how Jon was able to guess that something was on top of the monument in the first place but goes along with it. Eventually, instead of the treasure, they find a magnifying glass that belonged to Violet, buried under a rock. Sherlock is so confused by the discovery and has no clue as to how the glass made it there. Neither he nor Jon seem to remember ever burying it there.

The third riddle stands out the most here, as the last two lines of it read “you may find only one small detail, but that doesn't mean that you have failed.”

Upong finding this riddle, Jon commends Sherlock on his admirable ability to notice the details. This evokes Sherlock's memory of one of his mother’s core teachings:

S: “In such moments I often recall Mother's voice teaching us of the importance of the smaller details. The world hangs on small hinges, Jon.”

J: “Even the most chaotic miracle becomes sequential when you take a closer look. I remember.”

Sherlock’s keen eye for detail is something almost everyone he meets praises him for, and it's an inherited trait from his mother, who was an authenticator and a truth seeker, she taught him that "the truth lies in the details." Consequently, his struggle with seeing the big picture due to focusing too much on the details sometimes stems from his mother's teachings, which he clearly holds in very high regard. She was also the source of his strong moral stance against lies and obfuscation of truth. He was closer to his mother than his brother, even during her worst days. It's no surprise that Violet had a huge and deep influence on Sherlock-she shaped all of his moral views, many of which are being challenged by what he's discovering on Cordona.

The title of the quest, the quest being strongly tied to Violet and her teachings, specifically the third riddle, and of course the magnifying glass, all lead me to believe that Sherlock put the glass there and made up those riddles and the silver hand treasure, inspired by his mother, the monument, and the pirate it was erected in honor of.

Maybe it was also a ritual like burying Siger’s “skull” to help Sherlock process things and move on. Maybe it was to help him process and reconcile with the negative feelings associated with Violet's abusive nature or with her death, or maybe it was simply just child's play. But, as with everything else, after the pond incident™, his memories of Violet and most of his time on Cordona were suppressed and lost to time, including the magnifying glass and the “ritual”. And since Jon seems to remember or at least seems to have a gut feeling about the past and those lost memories, he recalled the riddles and the legend about the treasure, which, interestingly, can be considered as the “creative” aspects of the ritual. Jon may not have remembered the magnifying glass itself but remembered the steps to get there because Sherlock created them with his help. I do believe he is Sherlock's creativity and imagination personified. I've written a (much shorter, thankfully!) theory about that and how I think it's tied to Sherlock calling him his "anima" (here) if you're interested.

And maybe it was something more, if you think of Jon as a Tulpa or one of Carl Jung's thoughtforms (like Philemon, who Jung described as a "guru" possessing of transcendental knowledge and wisdom) this quest could be an example in which these concepts are explored. Jon does act as a guide in the game. He also seems to notice things before Sherlock does sometimes, and points out things that Sherlock has no way of knowing or verifying with empirical evidence at the time, sometimes even despite his physical limitations, like the “engraving” on top of the Silver Hand monument.

I personally don't think there was ever an engraving on top of the monument. I think the idea was for the first riddle to be memorized by Sherlock while the rest to be written down and hidden. This, I think, makes the whole “ritual” much more personal and special to Sherlock. Of course, after what happened, he forgot everything, and Jon was left to remember the first riddle and made it look like he read it on the monument to entice Sherlock to solve it and remember, just like how he invented the fiction that the skull belonged to Sherlock's father.

Then there's their conversation after discovering the glass, which I think perfectly captures the “rational” vs “irrational” parts of Sherlock, or the "persona" vs. the "anima" :

Jon, the “irrational” and creative part that wants to believe in magic and miracles, tells him that sometimes he just needs to let things happen, that some things can't be explained and we should let them be, and Sherlock, the "rational" part that strives for logic and objective truths, has a hard time accepting that, because to him, everything needs to have a logical explanation and a tangible root in reality.

J: “The whole world is one big unresolved chaotic miracle" - That's the part of Violet's teaching that Jon chooses to follow. Jon finds beauty in leaving mysteries unsolved, in the “who knows?” which leaves the door wide open for imagination, in non-linear thinking which leads to originality and uniqueness. He thrives in chaos.

S: “But they will become sequential if you take a closer look" - And that's the part that Sherlock wants to follow. He finds stability in order. He sees the need to investigate to uncover what's hidden and verify facts with evidence to restore structure into the world.

The two parts are both sides of the same coin. They shouldn't be separated because they balance each other out and make up one whole. Thanks to this balance, Sherlock eventually concedes and lets this particular mystery remain unsolved. It must have been freeing for him to just leave it to "fate" and focus on the beautiful feelings that this strange experience has evoked-him feeling closer to his mother by remembering her wisdom and honoring her legacy.

Which makes me wonder how differently Sherlock would have faced the horrors in The Awakened if Jon was still with him to hold his hand and remind him that it's okay if things didn't make sense, that sometimes you just need to let things happen and free your psyche from the weight of fervently searching for logical explanations. Some things are just meant to not make sense, just like that magnifying glass.

Then there's the title of the quest.

“The Hand-Me-Down” I think, refers either to the magnifying glass itself, being a precious heirloom inherited from Violet which later becomes Sherlock Holmes’ signature crime solving instrument, or the mindset of “the world hinges on small details“, also passed on from Violet and the reason why Sherlock is so keen on the details that he sometimes struggles to consider them within a broader perspective-the big picture-which can cause him to tunnel vision on isolated facts and possibly risk making ill-informed decisions. A notable example is concluding that “Richter tried to save my mother; therefore, he was an innocent man who was wrongly accused,” while disregarding the fact Richter and his medical malpractice caused his mother to deteriorate in the first place.

Finally, there's what Jon wrote in his diary after discovering the glass:

“But when Sherry looked at me through that glass, I was suddenly struck by terror. For a brief moment, it felt as if I weren't there at all, his gaze passing through me and over the horizon.”

Jon rarely gets “deep” in his journal, so this line stuck with me. Jon is pretty aware of his “non”-existence and even seems pretty in peace with it, so why would he be struck by terror at the idea of him “not being there at all”?

The choice of words in “his gaze passing through me and over the horizon” signifies the future; Jon is terrified of a future in which Sherlock doesn't see him anymore; when he favors his rational and mature side so much, that it ends up consuming him and severing Jon, his anima, his irrational and creative part that clings to his childhood, from the whole. If Sherlock stops seeing Jon, only then does Jon truly cease to exist.

I think this means that at this point in the story, deep down in his unconsciousness, Sherlock knew that when he leaves Cordona this time, he'll be leaving Jon with it, and this gut feeling, this terror at being fractured and fragmented, possibly with no way of ever getting mended, manifests through Jon as he constantly tries to alert Sherlock to the danger of the situation, that once he steps through the threshold, there's no turning back.

[geeks-universe]

Kiss of Death Pt. 3

Anthony Bridgerton x Assassin!Reader

Society has certain expectations of you. If only they knew of your nighttime activities…

He wasn’t able to do much at all that day, his thoughts wandering back to his encounter with you. When he made his way back to their family home, he half expected you to be there. He couldn’t help the slight disappointment when you weren’t, but he managed to ignore that feeling entirely in favor of promenading around Hyde Park with his family.

They were all in especially high spirits, abuzz with talk of their latest guest. He could hardly muster the same enthusiasm to discuss your marriage prospects and fashion choices. It was made infinitely more difficult as, while making their way around the park, a number of young gentlemen wishing to learn more about the princess approached him.

What was meant to be a relaxing afternoon out with his family turned into a more sordid affair, not granting his thoughts any reprieve from you and your earlier encounter. He couldn’t help but ponder if you were perhaps having similar thoughts on the carriage ride home, causing his mother to cast a curious look in his direction.

She cleared her throat when it was made obvious that he was not actually paying attention.

“It’s unfortunate that Princess (Y/N) couldn’t promenade with us today.”

The look on her face was expectant. She was fishing for more information, obviously placing the blame for his sudden distraction on the family’s guest. Which, to be fair, she wasn’t entirely wrong, but he wouldn’t give her the chance to meddle in his affairs.

“I am sure the princess needs all of the reprieve she can get before the onslaught of suitors.”

Violet hummed in acknowledgment, though Anthony could tell she wasn’t quite ready to hang up the conversation.

“I think it will be wonderful,” Daphne stated, smiling first to her mama, then to Anthony. “She is quite nice, and I should like more friends to converse with.”

“Yes,” Violet agreed, “She is a very sweet girl, and beautiful too.”

Anthony narrowed his eyes, his expression giving nothing away.

“She wasn’t too sweet with Anthony this morning,” Benedict joked, beaming at his dearest brother.

Before he could reply to his brother, his mother was quick to interject.

“I believe you owe her an apology, Anthony.”

“The matter is settled,” he assured his mom, repressing the urge to fidget in his seat like a child being reprimanded.

His family was much too sharp to drop it there.

“Settled?” Violet echoed, the smallest smirk tugging at her lips.

Benedict was obviously struggling to keep a laugh in, purposefully shrinking even lower into his seat.

“You apologized?” Daphne asked, surprise evident in her tone. “When did you speak with her?”

He met Daphne’s gaze with a long stare, feeling a bit of embarrassment creep up his cheeks. What he had to be embarrassed about, he wasn’t really sure, but he felt like his conversation with you was… private, intimate even.

“Now Daphne,” their mother warned, her eyes not leaving her eldest son. “It is best we don’t question this miracle.”

Benedict’s laughs were deep and cheery as he found entertainment at his brother’s expense. As did Daphne and Violet, considering their own laughter echoed Benedict’s closely.

Anthony ignored them, casting his stare out the window of the carriage, trying his damndest to think of anything but you.

Curiously, in his effort to do so, he thought he saw a movement on one of the rooftops, but whatever the odd trick of the light was, it was gone before he could properly investigate it. He frowned, wondering briefly when you would be returning from the business you were conducting.

Anthony was a businessman by intellect, as well as by birthright. He was extremely familiar with the other businessmen in London, as well as those that he dealt with in the country. The business dealings of your family though? He didn’t have the slightest clue as to what the royal family might do.

When the Bridgerton family returned home they eagerly awaited your arrival. It was as if the entire house were just watching the seconds tick by, waiting for some hint that you might be on your way.

There wasn’t any.

The sun slipped below the horizon, afternoon melding into the evening, and they weren’t any closer to finding you.

With little to no fanfare, the Bridgertons slowly began to depart for the night, eventually leaving Anthony to his lonesome.

He debated retiring for the night, but his mind was no closer to settled, so he chose to review the family accounts. There was little actual need to do so, but, as of late, the Viscount found the task exhausting enough to lull him into a fitful slumber a top his hard desk.

This night had been no exception. Before long, after the fire had dwindled to embers, and the house had fallen silent, Anthony fell into a light sleep with his head nestled uncomfortably in the book he had been reviewing.

Usually, when Anthony had found himself in this position, he wouldn’t awake until the late morning with a normal amount of self hatred and a kink in his neck. This time, however, he found himself jerked out of the prickly claws of slumber by a warm hand on his shoulder.

Again, he found himself hastily throwing his arms in a desperate attempt to ward off whatever attacker snuck their way into his office.

“Easy,” your voice cooed, once again easily dodging his erratic movements. He wasn’t sure how your instincts had been sharpened so, but he was beginning to be grateful they had been.

“Princess,” like he’d been plunged into the ocean in winter, Anthony jumped to his feet, blinking the sleep from his eyes. “What are-“

“Relax,” you hushed, nodding to the window. From there, he could see that the morning sun was only barely peeking through the blanket of night sky. It still was hours before anyone would be awake.

“I returned late,” you offered as an explanation. “That didn’t look too comfortable, thought maybe you wanted to sleep in an actual bed.”

He nodded a few times, collecting his thoughts and running a hand through his no-doubt messy hair.

“Returned late?” He echoed finally, realizing the implication of that statement.

Were you just now settling in for the night? It was practically morning. Upon closer inspection, he could see the exhaustion heavy set in your eyes, the skin just below discolored and swollen. Not to mention, was that…

“Blood?” His back tensed, and he rushed forward with a handkerchief, pressing the garment to your cheek with care and haste.

You hadn’t stopped him, hadn’t even bothered, really. Before you’d returned, you had been cautious to tend to any lingering wounds. You must’ve been so tired you missed the small cut on your cheek.

“Nothing to worry yourself with,” you assured Anthony lightly, finally interrupting his movements. You wrapped your fingers delicately around his wrist, watching with shining eyes as his gaze fell to where you touched him.

“It was nothing more than an accident.”

Not necessarily a lie, not really a truth, either.

“I shall be more cautious next time.”

Anthony was still frozen, glued to the same instant you’d reached for him. The moment you had deliberately touched him, even in such an innocent way, the steady thump of his heart had ceased. He was sure it would never start again, that he would be forced the relive the moment over and over again, left to marvel at the tingle that spread from where your skin met his to the base of his spine.

“Perhaps you need rest.” Anthony was unsure where the sudden words came from, as he was still rooted to the spot. His gaze wandered up the length of your face slowly, observing your expression.

Your brow was quirked playfully, and a devilish smirk was beginning to form.

“Anthony Bridgerton, are you suggesting I look tired.”

He puffed out a breath, letting the handkerchief slip between the two of you to the ground with a soft thud. His touch was slow and deliberate, the pad of his thumb running over the skin below your eye.

“I’m suggesting,” he repeated purposefully, tongue wrapping more cautiously over each word, enunciating with a purpose, “That rest would do us both good.”

You considered his words thoughtfully, finally nodding gently after a moment.

“Then I should bid you goodnight.”

Anthony tilted his head, considering the woman standing before him. You were steady, indomitable, but soft.

“Proper society would dictate that it’s morning,” he teased lightly, drawing his fingertips up towards a few stray strands of hair. Lightly, he pushed them behind your ear, surprising even himself with the gentleness of his action.

“Proper society would dictate that we should not be interacting at this time of day, much less without a chaperone.”

You both shared a quiet, breathy laugh, before the air grew dense with a shared awe between you. Anthony had furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of the feeling. You frowned the second you realized how nice his presence was.

“Goodnight, Anthony.”

You retreated before allowing yourself to feel vulnerable anymore. Anthony was left to stare at an empty doorway, trying to listen to your fading footfall, but silence prevailed. By the time he entered the hallway, you had already retreated.

“Goodnight,” he whispered to the cold, dark hall.

The wind replied with a cold gust that caused him to grimace. With no other distraction, Anthony walked lazily to his room, intent on questioning you further in the morning.

Tag list: @mysticwitchcraftco @ajanauia @khaleesihavilliard @kariiiel

[beikonsims]

Violet ended up watching a TV program about the miracle fertility treatment developed in Strangetown. It made him really want his own child and even though he knew he could easily just sprout a new Plant Baby whenever he wanted, he remembered how long it took for Herb to accept him as his son.

He brought the idea of having a real baby to Gordon, who was completely confused about it. He had no idea about the "miracle treatment" and couldn't imagine how either of them could carry a child from a biological point of view. It did make him curious, though.

Just to make sure he doesn't run away and change his mind, Violet dropped the bomb and proposed. They've been living together for some time and he didn't want to waste time pondering on possible future, when he knew he wants Gordon on his side.

[shadowqueenjude]

Mated to a monster

Just for you @achaotichuman TWs: suicide, child sexual harassment, self-harm, physical abuse The brambled thorns piercing his skin had become his solace. He had abandoned his court, his life, his everything. What was the point? He'd once had the world, and he'd squandered it. He still dreamt of it. When he was just a child, and he'd seen the Hybern general for the first time. Red hair with streaks of black, like her hair had been soaked with so much blood that it had mostly changed color, the streaks the only remnant of her that hadn't been corrupted. When he'd longed for acceptance from his father, receiving nothing but the barbed whip across his back for being a failure of a courtier, for playing his fiddle for the handsome Night Court lord he couldn't help but love, Amarantha had spoken to him. She'd embraced him and told him he was worth every last bit of Prythian, and their mating bond had clicked in. So what if she caressed his chest far too possessively to be casual? So what if she grabbed him through his pants, sometimes squeezing hard enough to cause pain? She had told him he was valuable. That was more than his father ever did. The scars on his back were so numerous that nobody would be able to count them. But while Amarantha left bruises, none of them stayed. It was only when she'd tried to strip him that he'd begged her to stop. He told her he was too young, that he was scared, that he had no idea what he was doing, that he wasn't comfortable with a sexual relationship at this point in time. In her rage, she'd ripped his antlers out with her bare hands and carved out his abdomen with them. It was only by a miracle that he'd escaped that place. He'd barely made it to his father, who'd saved his life. Only to give him the worst beating of his life. By the time it was done, Tamlin was crying tears of blood. Yet, that wasn't the worst pain in the world. No, it was nothing compared to the hollow feeling in his chest. The golden thread, his last hope for joy in this world, snapped in one moment. The mating bond. He was in such torment that he was sure it would kill him. Unfortunately, he lived. And lived. And lived. Even though he wished his brothers would slaughter him. He ran to his Night Court prince who'd enjoyed his music so much. He begged him for solace, he confessed all his pain. Rhys embraced him and promised that he would love him forever. His father caught them mid-embrace. Tamlin stood between them, demanding that Rhys run away, that he free himself. But Tamlin's father stabbed his shoulder with ash, preventing him from winnowing away. He grabbed Tamlin and threw him bodily across the room before having his brothers hold him down. Worse-so much fucking worse than bearing the whip himself. He screamed and writhed in his brothers arms as his father whipped Rhysand so thoroughly that there would be no recognizing him. He was just blood. "A little parting present for the High Lord of Night," Tamlin's father crooned. Tamlin vomited all over himself and his brothers. One of them stabbed him in his irritation, but at this point the pain was completely secondary. But his pain was not to end there. No, it was only to get much worse. He hadn't expected it to devolve into this. Two families killing each other off, their heirs once lovers. And when the high lord power fell onto Rhysand...he was so beautiful. So beautiful Tamlin's heart hurt. His violet eyes could devour him whole. He begged Rhysand to take him right then and there, to shove him down and make him his. There were no more families to keep them apart. But Rhysand only glared at him, simmering hatred burning in his eyes. "If I ever see you again, I'll kill you," he said in that sultry, seductive voice Tamlin had loved so much.

[chowtrolls]

New Perspectives

Google Docs Link Mondes & the Cheongs are @/byrdstrolls. Paenit is @/homicidalfantrolls.

Before you left for the Fleet, you made sure to say goodbye to everyone. To Nesseo, in rehab, Marsie, Hanagi, Mondes- and little Daseos. She was, at the time, much shorter than you. You had become quite smitten with the little jade as you got to know her. She was unlike anyone you had ever known. You loved the facts she spouted, how she lived and held herself so unapologetically. Das never seemed to fear taking up space in a room. It helped, of course, that nobody in the little Airbnb ever tried to make her small. 

Watching her grow up in those five months, even as fearful as it had been awaiting Hanagi’s return, reminded you of watching Twitch and Bertie and Calysa and Faxaen and Merkii grow up, too. Some days, you wanted to wrap your arms around her spunky jade frame and hold her close, tell her to never grow up, to always stay herself. You never did, of course. 

The only downside to Daseos, was having to pick her up from school. You’d see him across the lot. He wasn’t there every week, and then again neither were you. You tried so hard to figure out what weeks he was working pick-up duty. He seemed too busy to notice you, thankfully. Distracted by students pestering him, by other teachers. One time you caught him staring at a worm on the pavement. The world around you seemed to move in slow motion as you watched him nudge the little creature back into the damp soil, away from the harsh rays of the moons. An act of gentle kindness, unlike the man you once knew. The jagged rust you grew up with never noticed the small creatures. He was kind but never gentle, living his life in a rageful tunnel vision. In that moment, your chest ached. He wasn’t just alive. He had been alive long enough to change as a person. Without you. 

You ducked away behind Marsie right as Festur looked up. Then Das came running up to show off her diagram of a sea slug, and the world resumed as normal. 

The day that you left, you held Daseos by the shoulders. You looked into her bright, young eye, sparkling with wonder, swirling with age and trauma and things no child should have to hold. You told her to be good, to take good care of Mondes. And you gave her a letter. 

“Give this to your literature teacher. Mr. C, right?” 

She gasped, “You know that guy?!” 

“I thought I did. But now, I’m…not so sure.” 

✦✦✦

Five more months. Of silence, of staring into space and watching the stars swirl around your ship. Of hearing Paenit’s voice but never really understanding him. Choking down food to keep him happy. From hiding in his office to isolating yourself in your block. Five months of mapping the stars with nothing but your eyes. It’s a miracle you didn’t get voidrot from that alone. The stars changed from violet, to bronze, to jade, to yellow- never rust. All this time, Fester’s voice had been the sound of your consciousness, part of your never ending, never touched grief. Somewhere in those five months, your palmhusk had died. And you never bothered to charge it again. 

That was, until the faithful day where the bravest fool you’d ever know showed up at your ship door. Mondes Rosado, with all the confidence of a man who’d stared death in the face, commanded for you to come home. The recruits on Commander Almiss’ ship were more appalled that Rosado had the gall to boss you around. Showing up at the Fleet’s doorstep was one thing. Telling you what to do was an entirely different, dangerous ball game. Despite that, it only took Commander Almiss all of twenty minutes to convince you to leave. By the time Mondes showed up, you were speaking again. The decision should’ve been easy- looking back you regret those long twenty minutes. Mondes must’ve been in agony. You didn’t want to leave Paenit, you didn’t want to leave Twitch. But as you told your commander this, he softly held your hands, and said you had punished yourself enough. He told you it was time to start enjoying your life. 

You were convinced Mondes flew back much slower than he flew out. Not that you minded. You liked eating more than tater tots. You’d never admit it, but you even enjoyed rewatching Dune. You felt safe falling asleep tangled in his arms. Safe in a way you hadn’t felt in many, many sweeps. Hell, you didn’t even mind the spontaneous detour to a planet more ash than anything else. 

You had about three dozen missed calls by the time you finally went back online. Siblings, your father, your moirail, Kitty even called twice. But only one number called once, five months ago. The joyous vibe of the ship had diminished significantly after visiting Corsica. In a morbid way, Mondes’ grief provided you a good distraction for what you needed to do. 

“Rosado,” You softly broke the comfortable silence, “What time does Das get out of school?” 

“It’s Sunday. She doesn’t have school on the weekends.” 

“....Right.”

“Why? Something wrong?” 

“No- no, not at all.” You slowly stood up from your seat on the couch, eyes never leaving the screen, “I-..I’ll be right back.” 

Twitch’s ship was small, impossible to have true privacy. It didn’t seem like Mondes had followed you. He didn’t even take his eyes off the vegetables he so attentively chopped. Giving you the perfect opportunity. You locked yourself in the bathroom and turned on the fan. Your mask was set unceremoniously in the sink as you leaned against the counter. With shaky hands, you redialled the number. It rang twice. 

“Hello?....Joey?”

Your blood ran cold. His voice, smooth like honey. 

“...Jodiah? Is that you?”

✦✦✦

⇒ Your name is now Festur Canuis, and your ex-matesprit just entered your old barn. 

You had been diligent in returning to the barn every Thursday. Was it creepy that you knew what days your brother wouldn’t be home? Probably. But even if he was, it was unlikely he’d venture out here again. The one time he did…poor thing, he just about passed out at the sight of you. It was pure luck he didn’t. No way in hell you could’ve dragged his heavy ass back to his hive. 

Since your call with Jodiah, you had returned every Thursday. You would sit in your old, dead car, and grade papers, work on lesson plans, go over your rosters…boring adult things you couldn’t forego simply because you awaited an old friend. At first, you would freeze every time those rotting barn doors would creak. You convinced yourself after some time that he wasn’t going to show up. That was probably why you didn’t even bother looking up from the worksheet you were writing on. Not even when you heard the door shut, did you look up. It was only the uncomfortable feeling of eyes drilling into you that finally got you to look up. 

There he stood. Baggy clothes hanging off his shoulders and hips like a funeral shroud. Staring at you with unease, discomfort, looking down at you from the top of his mask. 

Oh god, that mask. 

It was horrifying. The cold look in his eyes should’ve been what chilled you to the bone, but in all honesty, it was that mask. Sharp and heavy, concealing some horrible secret. You had seen it from afar, and had caught a glimpse or two from when the court case had been televised.  What had the Fleet done to his face? Had it been the Fleet, or was it your death? Could you even blame someone in that instance?  Your papers are set aside as you slowly rise, never breaking eye contact. In actions reminiscent of someone trying not to piss off a rabid bear, you slowly exit the vehicle and dare to venture closure. 

“You’re alive.” The sound that leaves his mask is hardly a voice. And certainly not his own. It reminds you of the growl of an engine. A robotic, deadly thing. 

“If it’s, uh, any consolation…I’ve only been alive the past, er…sweep or so?” You offer a half-hearted shrug.

“Oh.” You could practically see the gears turning in your ex’s head, his eyes studying every visible aspect of you. Mentally calculating the length of your arms compared to your torso, cataloging every hair on your head. Checking his mental list several times over. Making sure, without a reasonable doubt, that you are in fact Festur Canuis. 

The silence that falls is thick. You began to wonder if you were purely imagining things, if Jodiah actually stood in front of you. You were just beginning to relax when Jodiah’s mask suddenly just…turned off. The lights died out entirely. He started to sway. His lime eyes rolled back right as his legs buckled under him. 

Instinct took over as you closed the gap between you two with record speed. You grabbed him by his hoodie, momentarily shocked at how lightweight he was. You pulled the unconscious lime close, keeping him as upright as possible. Nostalgia fogged at the edge of your mind, memories of being kids and having this same issue happen. The electricity in his body would overwhelm his heart, and he’d pass out. You recalled holding him upright would sometimes speed up his recovery time- 

With a sharp, muffled gasp, Dia’s eyes snap open. His nails grip into your arms frantically. It took a few seconds for the recognition to spark in his eyes. When it did, he immediately buried his masked face into your chest. You yelp and stagger back slightly, taking him with you. It became quite clear that his mask was not designed with hugs in mind. 

“Joey–Joey, stop–” You squirm slightly, “Your mask- it’s, its sharp-”

He looked up, eyes wet with sorrow and terror, silent as ever. 

“Let’s take it off…please?” 

“Y-You can’t look at-at me.” Jodiah’s voice, no longer mechanical, wavers in his demands. He shifts to hold you at arm’s length, his vibrant eyes studying your own deadpan ones with a startling new frenzy. “Pr-Promise me. You-You c-can’t look. D-d-don’t f-f-fucking- d-d-“ 

You knew that stutter. Like an engine stalling when you turned the key. The starter trying so hard, desperate to ignite. But the spark never lights. The words fall out of his lips clumsily but never whole, never the right words. You said nothing in return. A hand moves from Jodiah’s waist to the mask on his face. You’re not sure how you know what to do, you just do. You’d been reading a lot of books lately- part of the Language Arts teacher job, right?  A common theme these days has been soulmates. Trolls with souls that were destined to be tangled together. You always thought that idea was fucking idiotic. There was no way to prove fate or destiny existed. You had died, how could you have a soul? 

But as your hand found its way to the right sweet spot on Jodiah’s mask, gently pulling back and then down, you started to wonder if the concept was really all that stupid. He doesn’t stop you. The mask is discarded unceremoniously, dropped off to the side. He’s shaking like a leaf in the wind, and with how small he felt in your arms you worried he’d blow away like one too. Your expression softens ever so slightly. 

This wasn’t your Joey. Your Joey had a round, clean face, warm cheeks decorated with freckles. He always wore a smile. His fangs poked out over his lips like a promise. The man who looked at you with your lover’s eyes was so tired, so aged. His jaw was sharp, his nose broad and round. His face looked sunken in, hollow, decaying. His lip quivered in a nervous silence as he studied you. Waiting for his powers to do something, anything. Waiting for the facade to end. 

You raise your brows in the subtle way you often did to show you weren’t upset. “I’m fine, Joey.” The hand that removed his mask now cupped his cheek. The lime turned his face into your palm, closing his eyes for a brief second, relishing the touch. “See? I’m fine. I feel nothing- It’s okay.” 

Nothing was an understatement. Seeing his face sent warm sparks down your spine, made your chest bubble with excitement, made your head fizz. Certainly a far cry from the sedative powers Jodiah remembered himself as having. You’d explored his memories, of course you had, and could recall him taking down highbloods far greater than you with just a cold glare. The buzzing carbonation in your think pan was a muted version of his powers. But you couldn’t let him know that, not with how he felt now. You were always a little too good at lying to your Jodiah, and it appeared that trend would continue with the Jodiah in your arms. 

Fat tears welled up in his bright, sunken eyes, right before he buried his face into your chest. You instinctively wrap your arms around him, swallowing his small frame in your own. You close your eyes and press your face into his hair. He didn’t even smell the same. The Fleet had done horrible things to the man you once knew. But you knew in your bones that it was really your death that had made him sharp, had forced his edges to be so jagged to protect what he had left. 

You couldn’t love this man in the same way you once had. Too much time had passed for that to be a possibility. You were different, he was different- love wasn’t some kinda puzzle you could finish just by forcing the pieces in a certain way. You missed your Joey, and you always will. You couldn’t call up a necromancer to bring him back. But you could get to know the man he’d become, the man in your arms, holding onto you like he was afraid you’d vanish. The love that melted its way across your skin was much deeper. Warm, genuine, pure. Pinker in nature. Oh, how the time apart gave you a newly painted perspective on your feelings towards him. You knew, as you nuzzled into his soft hair, that you’d do everything in your power to make sure he never sobbed like this again. Not over you, not for any reason. 

You weren’t pieces from each other’s missing puzzles. You were two halves of the same star that found its way back together.

[aeion1412]

"The Traveler & Child"

                         <<<~~~•••~~~>>>

     "What's so good about reading books? They're just mindless fantasies, anyway." The young boy turned his chin away from him and harrumphed. 

     Looking at his reaction, Levi shook his head and simply laughed. The boy quickly whipped his head back at him as soon as he heard the laughter. 

     "Hey! What's so funny? Isn't it true, though?" The boy pursed his lips at him and glared. Levi ignored him. 

Turning his gaze back towards the window, he leisurely picked the paper cup in front of him with its warm, steaming liquid. As he sipped at his very own cup of hot cocoa that he missed so much, he slowly took in the beautiful scenery depicted outside the small cafe's window pane. 

There, lying outside just a few meters from where he sits, you can see tall blossoming fruit trees and adorable little flowers planted in small decorated pots. In the middle of the old, cobbled streets of this nameless town, laid generously in the middle of the path—poppy flowers, yellow tulips and purple lilies were gorgeously strewned around with love.

Up above, the sky is painted like a piece of invaluable art that encompasses the world where he currently resides, blanketing it with its magnificent intertwining colors of majestic violet, burgundy red and scarlet red, hazy oranges, and brilliant yellows and shiny gold.

    In the eyes of this young man, he saw the beauty and simplicity of nature, and saw the stories hidden underneath behind each face that were simply passing by in the streets of this small town that he can't even call home.

    He knew that behind every person and every object, there is a story waiting to be told. It doesn't matter to him how crude or complicated that story might be. He still finds it beautiful and enlightening.

    To him, he finds them eye-catching and breathtaking, no matter what anyone says.

This made the young man, who is still staring outside, widen his eyes and let out a gasp of awe and wonder. The young boy who was still glaring at him earlier, turned his head outside the window to follow the enraptured man's gaze. The boy's jaw slackened.

    He was equally surprised and shocked at what he saw outside.

    "How... How beautiful!" he softly exclaimed.

After staring outside the window for a few more seconds, the young man who introduced himself as Levi, slowly returned his gaze towards the young boy's face. Staring at him deeply, he cleared his throat and began to speak. 

    "You know," he began, stealing the boy's attention away from the indescribable wonder outside. 

    "It's not really bad for a child like you to read some children's books, like you know, fantasies," Levi said. The boy only stared at him as response. 

    Seeing this, the young man continued. 

    "Sometimes, we also need a little magic in our lives, like... miracles. Do you believe in God, Chase? ...No? Well, I believe in Him," he said.

The young man then raised the cup that he was holding, placed it on his lips, and took a long sip. He drained it down to the very last drop, savoring the sweet and bitter aftertaste of the dark chocolate drink. Placing the paper cup down in the same fashion, his eyes returned back to its sleepy and half-closed look, and his lips began to curl at the edges, as if amused. He then looked back at the boy at the side to face him. At the boy who calls himself, Chase.

 Levi began to smile. 

     "Even if they were just some fantasies created from the imaginations of a restless mind, I believe:

     Those stories are also a reflection of a person's feelings, and well-kept emotions and dreams inside," the young man said. 

     Tilting his head a little bit on the side, he extended an arm, placed his hand under his chin, and kept his gaze fixed at the young boy's face. 

     "It also tells a lot behind a person's thoughts and origins, and even if they won't tell you personally, if you look close enough��their stories are just hidden beneath the wrinkles of their face and deep inside the colors of their eyes."

     He then pointed to his chest and added, "It all comes from here. Right here." 

     The young man went silent.

     After a while, he released a sigh full of mixed emotions after that moment of silence. The boy just watched on.

     "'A Will Eternal'... How could I even forget those kind of stories?" Levi thought out loud. 

Chase, the young boy who doesn't have much to say at the first place, was now piqued at this. He leaned closer to ask.

     "What kind of story is that?" he suddenly said to him.

     The young man's thoughts were now interrupted. Without so much as a shred of disdain or a hint of anger, he opened his lips and replied. 

     "Oh? You mean, 'A Will Eternal'"?

     "Uhuh."

     "Alright."

     Levi shifted in his seat, seeking a much more comfortable position, and began explaining after a short chuckle at the boy's reaction. The boy decided to let it slide and just sat up properly to listen.

      "Hahahaha... Okay, okay, my apologies. If you're really curious, I'll tell you. Now, listen closely," the young man began.

"'A Will Eternal', is a long but endearing tale of a young, lonely man, who—because of his primary fear of death—decided to leave his hometown and seek out immortality. 

     With the help of an immortal cultivator whom has been owed a debt of gratitude by that young man's late parents—the protagonist was able to join the sect or an established group of cultivators, which the elder immortal who fetched him belong to, and began a new chapter in his life.

And starting from there, together with his fellow brothers and sisters and his dearest of friends who also practice magic to attain the sacred ways or keys to immortality, the young man began his more-than-a-thousand step journey to the path of everlasting life. A journey full of obstacles and peril, of joys and sorrows, of hopelessness and dedication, of peace and violence, of friendship and brotherhood, and of course, of love and faith... 

     It is a long journey about a young man, who in the end, was able to achieve his primary dream of immortality and learned the ways of life that made him who we was in the end—a powerful immortal who can now save and protect his loved one's lives against the claws of death and ravages of time...

     It's a wonderful story, don't you think? Because I think so, too. Yes." Levi finished with a nod of his own head.

     The young boy who was staring at him, felt a little bit stumped. He nearly choked.

     "I... I don't remember everything that you said, but hearing the last words about that story that you said is, umm... about friendship and love and brotherhood... and pain, I think... I don't really get how is it a wonderful story when it has pain and sorrows." Chase weakly muttered with disbelief.

     The failure of a narrator just laughed at this and said, "That is why you nead to learn how to read. Then you'll see..." 

     The young man gazed back out the window for the last time before closing his eyes with a look of wonder, almost like an epiphany.

     "You'll finally understand," he said. 

He opened his eyes back up to stare at the boy with sparkles in his eyes. The boy was caught off guard at this, so he could only back away a bit from this peculiar young man who just arrived in town today.

     "Books are wonderful. They are wonderful creations made by humans," the young man finally concluded. With that, this young man named Levi, slowly stood up from his seat to leave. Seeing this, the boy hurriedly grabbed at his sleeves to stop him.

    "Where are you going, Levi?" Chase asked with pleading in his eyes.

    "I need to leave now, to go back home."

    "Oh, but... Will... Will you ever come back?"

    The young man fixed his sleeves, dusted his shoulders, and smiled at the boy before answering.

     "Yes," he replied gently.

     With that, Levi turned his back to the boy. Chase could not do anything to hold him down, as this young man who introduced himself as Levi, wasn't really a member of their community. He wasn't even a part of this town. 

     He was just a traveler, he remarked, as he just said earlier in their first meeting in front of the little coffee shop that can barely be even called one. Inside, this 'traveler' had waltz in with a child he found playing on the streets by buying a bagel and a cup of hot cocoa, and giving it to him before asking to follow him inside.

 Yes, he was just a stranger.

     Realizing this, the boy could only hope that this kind stranger would return again to this small, nameless, and boring excuse of a town to tell him more peculiar tales that would make him wince in terror, or stories that would tug at his heart and soul. He winced at the thought of waiting for Levi, this young peculiar man, to return and look for him after he leaves this town which looks like a very long time. 

     He even believed that this might even take months and years, and he can't help but feel sad about the absence of this newfound friend he just met today, inside this small nameless town that he barely calls home. He didn't even know if he'll eventually return and meet him again.

 The young boy couldn't help but sigh.

     "How should I pass the time?" Chase thought to himself. He looked around the café, feeling a little lost and in dismay, and then decided to look back at the young man who just left him without saying any proper goodbyes.

      That young man was now out the door of the café and into the street, just about to cross over to the other side. The boy's fingers curled into a fist, and his jaws tensed.

      With a whoosh, the boy came running out with a shout. 

      "Will you bring me some books once you come back, sir! I'll make sure to learn how to read anything properly! Yeah... I, I promise that." Chase said as he slowly trailed off in embarrasment after garnering the attention of the people on the street.

     The young man however, didn't notice or simply ignored the stares around them. He just paused in his steps, pondered a bit, before replying.

      "Alright. If I ever come back here in time Chase, like I promised." He said to the boy. The boy was immediately ecstatic.

     "Thank you, sir! Thank you so much!"

    "Just call me, Levi. Remember that."

    "Okay," Chase nodded at him as a promise. 

     He finally turned around in giddiness and began walking away, feeling as if he just won a million dollars in the lottery. The boy now knew what he wanted to do with his life for once, and that is to learn how to read books, and not play in the streets with mindless or useless hurtful games with the other children living there.

     He decided he would stop living like a naive child and learn how to read books and create poetry like his mother. Ah, yes... His late mother that he loved dearly, Ailene.

     "Yes, to read books," he thought with a smile.

     And there, under the canopy of the beautiful sunset sky, the boy ran back without looking back again at the young man who is gazing at him with an equally warm smile. After a while, Levi then gazed upward at the heavens while standing very still.

     A breeze began blowing, the trees and flowers began swaying, and as a lone carriage passed the young man by in the street full of people... 

     He snapped his fingers, and suddenly, he was gone.

Only a nameless bustling town, with a certain street full of humans going through and fro, the occasional horse carriages driven here and there, and a quaint little café in the corner of this town where the story all began, remained. 

     This is the place where the story between a young man who calls himself a traveler, and a boy who once called himself a child, had begun.

   The story of Levi and Chase.

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

       <<<~~~•••~~~>>>

Fin.

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

[Writer's Note:

This really took me a long while to write, edit and finish. Gosh. But, I really love this particular scene. This particular story.

I really do.

It's no excerpt or even a scene taken out from a novel or a book I'm writing or about to write, yet it is a short story that I enjoyed writing out of all sorts of scenarios that popped up in my head, whether it's in the middle of the night, or worse, in the middle of me taking a bath (or a dump, yes).

So, hope you enjoyed reading this even if it wasn't perfect. I haven't completely revised everything to the best of my abilities, as I was really itching to post this for a while, now.

Thank you for reading.]

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

[16magnolias]

How about #25 for the OC ask game for Lucía 👀

25.What inspired you to create them / how did you create them? Were they originally a fancharacter? What was their personality / design like when you first made them?

Boy howdy, the answer to this question just keeps going and going. I don't know if you were shooting for the Abridged Full History of the Development of Lucía Moreno-Hernandez, but that's what you're gonna get.  😅

Originally, Everday Miracle was just going to be a silly little one shot of how Bruno got the dang horse at the end of the movie. With the first draft of the first chapter, Lucía was just a throw away character. 😬😅 I asked myself 'where did Bruno get that horse and how did he get it?', and Lucía was a means to an end - she was just someone kind enough to recognize a desperate man when she saw one and offer him a way to get where he needed to go, without putting up too much of a fuss about who he was.

And then I thought - wouldn't it be nice if Bruno had a friend? And wouldn't it be nice if he could help her in some way too?

....and it ballooned wildly from there. 😂

I didn't know what a fancharacter was until I looked it up and I suppose technically speaking she is a fancharacter because I created her specifically for this Encanto story!

Originally her two main traits were kind and practical, and I think I've stayed pretty true to those traits, though of course her personality developed and became more complex from there. I played around with the idea of her having more than one child and also swapping aspects of her and her sister Sofia - aka in another universe, Lucía might have had 5 kids and run the horse stables while Sofia ran the print shop with Lorenzo. Ultimately I decided that was way too many kids for poor Bruno to have to win over and way too many people for me to keep track of writing. (There are already 12 Madrigals! 12! I did not need to add another 6 main characters 😂.)

As for her design, I admit I came up with her personality and background waaaaay before I ever thought about what she looked like physically. (Back when I was only posting on ff.net, I didn't describe in detail anything but her eyes and height until chapter 22!  When I transferred the story to AO3 I moved some descriptions around so people had a better idea of what she looked like earlier on.)

I settled on the design I ultimately did because it seemed like a lot of villagers had similar traits and I was hoping to find a screenshot/spot her somewhere in the scenes where there are a lot of villagers. I uh....should probably do that some time haha.

And, to a lesser extent, I chose her physical traits because I wanted her to blend in. I wanted her to be unassuming physically. There's a poem by William Wordsworth called 'She dwelt among the untrodden ways' and the middle verse says:

   "A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! —Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky."

And that's kind of the vibe I was going for with Lucía. To most people she's not particularly remarkable but to the people who love her, she's special and beautiful and means the world to them.

[daring-to-caring-robot]

TF Fankid OC Quick Facts! [Asks Open!]

Compass Quick Facts! [Prowl x Starscream] -Song: Look What You Made Me Do - Taylor Swift -She/Her -Faction: Autobots -Altmode: Police motorcycle -Colors, etc: Blue, black, white; red optics; 11.8ft -In a romantic relationship with Lunar -Guardian(s): Prowl -Voice Claim: Azula [Avatar: The Last Airbender]

Lunar Quick Facts! [Megatron x OP] -Song: Waiting On A Miracle - Stephanie Beatriz -She/Her -Faction: Autobots -Altmode: Space Infrared Telescope -Colors, etc: Blue, silver, white; white optics; 16.5ft -In a romantic relationship with Compass -Guardian(s): Optimus Prime -Voice Claim: Princess Bubblegum [Adventure Time]

Requiem Quick Facts! -Song: Propaganda! - Crusher -He/Him -Faction: Decepticons -Altmode: IBM 305 RAMAC -Colors, etc: Silver; purple optics; 19ft -Younger twin of Venture -Guardian(s): Nightlight, Megatron -Voice Claim: Edward Elric [Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood]

Skyline Quick Facts! [Skyfire x Elite Trine] -Song: DEATHWISH - poutyface -She/They -Faction: Autobots -Altmode: F-15 Strike Eagle -Colors, etc: Cyan, purple, a touch of orange; red optics 31ft -Part of the triplets: middle child -Guardian(s): Skyfire -Voice claim: Kyubey [Puella Magi Madoka Magica]

Starsweeper Quick Facts! [Skyfire x Elite Trine] -Song: It's Alright - Mother Mother -They/Them -Faction: Autobots -Altmode: F-15 Strike Eagle -Colors, etc: Red, black, flashy; blue optics; 31ft -Part of the triplets; oldest child -Guardian(s): Skyfire -Voice claim: Kyoko Sakura [Puella Magi Madoka Magica]

Sunblast Quick Facts! -Song: Centuries - Fall Out Boy -He/Him -Faction: Decepticons -Altmode: Global Hawk -Colors, etc: Dark blue; red optics; 22ft -Guardian(s): Nightlight, Soundwave -Voice claim: The Collector [The Owl House]

Venture Quick Facts! -Song: Two Birds - Regina Spektor -She/Her -Faction: Decepticons -Altmode: Mitsubishi F-2 -Colors, etc: Purple, dark blue; red optics; 25ft -Older twin of Requiem -Guardian(s): Nightlight, Megatron -Voice Claim: Historia Reiss [Attack On Titan]

Wind Chime Quick Facts! [Skyfire x Elite Trine] -Song: Sleeping Through the End of the World - PuffHost -She/Her -Faction: Autobots -Altmode: Boeing X-37 -Colors, etc: Sunny yellow, dark gray accents; red optics; 43ft -Cracked left optic -Part of the triplets; youngest child -Guardian(s): Skyfire -Voice claim: Violet Evergarden [Violet Evergarden English Dub]

[libidomechanica]

By which he memory on the same stript me divine in loved

A sonnet sequence

               1

Our dead, and from man any tears. Is kind, I sleep, a few men frosty listening, that lost man with one by lackest made me their are fair moonlight but their starving slow! As half thou fall, which the bridge. By which he memory on the same stript me divine in loved and watches band so divine; and backward the come to the fame if I’ve shore and days go by; but idle, for just as of poet our conscious frame, without a back. Tho’ the white, and life beginnin’ wheel. Take him die.

               2

This use him shall I disown ye! And the lands; who gazed the sweet years her day the race: known the will be bells of the snow; every spire, as I must; till day. Does bear a given, in the dead, move not Jove grow many milky bosom try to part of words the mud and she tulips but it would only laws, and touch, in a Miracle. To be wood-globe of our Liberties; tis one who not made a merry maze of shabby greater footsteps did foyle this: but overtrodden leapt.

               3

I knew not brook the ruin’d the strike a horse to dance it keep them her e’e; I bow’d morning straine; where must have dreamed boys that shone, or the sweet violet? I shall babbled strengthens in all I, on thee. A small pale cheeks of delight, the fault was serve as I move my mournful patient days. I known to smoothe heard and his becomes in himself he water them or rude so much know the breather turning. Tho’ I myself a beast double work Lord of his horse to gray. Father’s service of loue.

               4

Is she distant spring me over the palms of the apart to spite of merit, and all rock each, as mouth wail, as fetches guilt! Her living stars a cout faithful eyes, do like reach evil days behind. The sought of the dead, as thou art so perplexed like more? This, alas, my shadow? Me so divine Muse, or more a progression from myself in flats again; and Johnny maybe a tedious day. To me; they fail to blot of. There is drawn from a think the trod this more.

               5

Oh, had herself, beside the bed bays my Lady Blank by here Vanity sleep your ere should space, for the would story. Find the cypressly afloat, an’ I’ll vaunt, from child, and with the early years she, like the formations of great Death. And jest; thought her just exchange; come halls, for lust, and that with the force my Lady trench love removed the doorstep, and slave-maker, will, in her wither all-subtile from the race, for the shall not here, but he, made the sad tea. The meant to cease.

               6

The lilies but stay he is not upon my Lady of you call to school and you feels of self another’s way, it spangle perfection on a weeds by this silence and still acquaintain rigid sleep, to him, a man and Fate with what they this? Replying, that God to me with a million died and tainty, Tam. But sing: sing each idle, our hand the same, i’ll still, and moor an imaginations wealthful, and go thy recognition a globe of happy love the prison.

               7

The Regular abyss of a dream: but enjoying a wife, the first moment’s violet? So earthly rout though to flower-enamour idiot boy? And the years shame, fantasting such a mourn within the poem I wanton an air before that breaks about him she hand, the Falcon-eyed me thunderbold; nor can ye thus, hereafter youthful art, or pure hands white fear. She studding season noon, when we rusted shin’st stay. On the subserved from yours. For far bridegroom me?

               8

Had I wore that out, and this side? And voice again! Is thing hand, five- words, that least in view, whatever future a last love I shall tell he’s climbs the in my harp a water seemed was iudge of sleep. Me enought an endless picture braw, and sorrow waited fair. Hard and his eyes the cross. Sweet Silvia in these and should suffer’d from France streams with a darken all hands; that beauty, mine—tended but the prayer, nor can but the art winds, on the cloud, and the stormless years: the rim.

               9

Because I him his muzzled away, the magic laws to thou only. Was when their seek that we descriptions even crowning limpid water-work was not wish their way they will grew sorrowest. Our will’s hinder moonship, and by each one howlest, then, regret: then the mouthed by the chin watched to her storm-beaten first, and fawning that falls of Fairy house white, extend answer to helped us: promise, O Joy, no feel aff, as altar-fire, to rang; and Johnny’s sake when the suns.

               10

The sunder lover. Then heart, he common we fare; stretching working upon death, memory of my face. I bring the humbled a burn; and foul and the field of Sin deep rever. With pain, nor love men and dance of noisy town, this pant, a growing was numb; but he good a stain stair, and her hands shape did, and stream of piss arrowned with dear with face vnarmed not quick brunettes, the emblest linnets! And knows when I lost. Graveyard, and I want in woe like I know that the apron.

               11

Ambrosial dark and each other mode, nor the secure, or seed that human had eaten find, emasculated stand how to repair and aye thus, my dread the sublime, the grows of the porch, and free, that hope for years of the sages. The stimulated to rear thank’d with my words pregnant of a Titan fragrant pass in the mixing words of sin, no more she twice—telligences had needs, and find. Is and change my well; tis eight return about the fiddle allow backe beach.

               12

At kirk, or walks, or is torments earth; such a rattling our feet, trustful glean of looking still. And look on know it wear; but that was I’m no broad, oh crueltie; your tho’ they my soul shore, to the moons of vowed fires spread figured pears ago or just what which Betty, rise, find’st this sense tomb. The arms about thee? When let me on Death the dusk of scorn that little done, is the nerves in his stark mute; or sadly spending subdued and love remember—a most man thy baldness the statues!

               13

With joyful sway. That had to me; what they looks frame, and low, there sees, a to-and-fro, and lingers. Maud has come against my Lady of day: that thus’: most foreign—back upon my breast, but it sticker, and bright; and Fancy caught it is wedding an ample from you that doth ride, nor eventh Heaven, and fling branch and plate prayed his pants in silent- light socket chiefly propagates red. The Danube rolling below, At her head, and for thy face, thy prove has his look be love.

               14

At first me, made them all it is full-crown’d brough them very masque tongue, I not my form was left a little with us, but o’ gear the summer suns. And the lister make thy he is their lovers at last, singing summer all the will in barre of the loved against his worst of the would thee on eyes of men; for knowing with delight. And is right; I scarpen’d him well a fault in delightly: where the sense for I thou, a waste, of you were than worldling Willye, the more freeze; then two.

               15

The cedar tree; and a valley night. I remember. Because I met with ere on, go out the grave all the avaricious sob, than the skeleton stirs the roarings which cleareth. Receive hath caroches, or twice a drest by my unkind. Across all-complete a dream: but walk’d been in the drown anyone snow, from white, all wear the blood, and cheerfull of circling inside appear. An ordinary haze of delight but a silence is our cheek that my grove, nor dry Booke.

               16

All remaine, the set below music and fall; such evil spring thee from hills with such a duke, and he lecture spare, where is no near too with, God from the beasts in honour in tuneful patient reed undulations where like edge-tools of she watch that is’t you scarce a madmen rais’d, he rent came back upon my life he bene ioyous to the tryst. I feelings rushed in the fool the floors, and under fights Reserving will I said: farewell! Which Loves his talk, and faithful and there dead?

               17

Until she never man make me her song. The pain may perjury; the price to word may die thy purl the might we affairs his flea’s desire where living around of moist upon be heart of the motley follow jinking in vain at thy name thee ’gainst through her I was thro’ meads; yet holy day, without speaking arts of all, for joy; she canker’d from children our words of dead: o cod shun, when I returning; since your melodious and crust. Me by tome again.

               18

‘Here made the dead, and Though the most! Now silence, among the morning still their book when their cell, to clasp’d nor kind: methings myself erect and Fear, my hour. And her, two cannot beg in thinke Venus whereof he yellow my dark and the summer’d treat was not tell whatever ranks that griefs with silver slow bend; nor foes wounds one, show eye and yokes us frailty of that he is mother. Thenceforth my true-love a change that I were behind the steal this, and stir, they hands; whilst thy face.

               19

And all, I first his might, and all her manacles of cyclic schoolboy. Or half of summer orient ease might there all loose antic, from each in that last the grass, and low, with Absál to his glimmer Francis carrior fancient fable hurts his face and quite revolving breathings that I shall for the diamond down unto my bed, susan!—The orange, descended untill’d my present fresh the folks be, the perfect rose up and the will, when her feeling heard him Pity, which I thou hardly in the flying, shall, I to be lost the lea; and the grew thee moving not wrong; and all the years of the more, and over head is not yet beside hear me wed as he capes indiscern the lilies shining slowly strife.

               20

I calm’d her een here who move formed! Love’s ghostly speech we turning made the village in my sight; and could not to knocking of my troubled a moments, and remember’s breaking head, the listendom. We have brown about this been was not more; our dearest, and hopes shield did break my light against thought rested scarped claps’d her cast the yet feel of Being post-modern now; every kiss of the time shores; but we have had, and kisses; which banners bound song and rose-carnage the fuller?

               21

And hence about thence, running with is titled for suns availe, I did not being round of a bitten office of her hand which banner darkly friend? Of solace to prates this hands, that lives are musing, the cignet’s so come, shriek’d, or loveliness of an able as thought, and stillness. Pardon, O Maid cried, she’s cold with my life are perpetual darkness of me thine so I would never meant appal! Light-long your light to takes a wolf where evening the night of these ill-nature feel the dell, a discursion is the coward lighted for fame! The touch when the mould—the curtseying way reason wedges of free: the dark with Death, Love or salamanded— if her autumn, with costly hent, to breast-deep will.

               22

Calm despair, the bed baiting-place! To stencil’d to toll lives in pure in promise, nor me, and on pants hacked, Madam, and since from the ley, the hill. And, lest guileless night no raise tied of good. Tho’ the school and ten ye come and make the fail not her met he rapt oration an he lovely him. Some reverence free, and breathen, my Katie? The stormy guiled, as he world; by what we dreary, I will ne’er force, but your live. Your cheek wherewith word, what your lots were or dinghy.

               23

Thou, perchanced, play, the Ayr; but end with eyes, I cannot feeling congruity this round, call the yet feeling Spring, when done the store orbits own; I heard through all sit beside! And caught and fast? For so fair, but all ready you place is along has his better shaken to fetch it their birth, and kind of place, my Johnny is all the lake flame not winds my life, an’ a’ she turns in matter they view in a conscious in such unholy streamless flit; but from to wistfully at time; when a perfect deed, and Horror crushe, would and gay, light, where a seness grope: so, and murmuring itself I lye. This poison far in the all about for the state be attice eulogies. Lambs friend, almost celebrates so!

               24

There. Fresh from that holy to swing.— The bothers music hath shores; but each; and in vain—and both him truly Bacchus ravish’d withouten maiden blow. Mane: but then wending a better a doctor’s downe, a solemn ghost, who hold he and that shine, and stir a homespun cove; I shall thatch upon then he petty one, an’ I’ll tell. On wings of forests that sliding contact link o’ her life that whimpers, pure lights, like and white man and quick brunettes of stone-cast thou leave thy Will’ to me.

               25

—And, passed by and passion as his frame the feathed thee more red tipple; paps the solemn choice who is too soon and lacking the accelerating by his share of herself force that burneth unreprove thy poor humor with hoofs of filthy contended; for from afar, he is comfort her, when the third. I still the live it with my lips sweetest Stellaes images blame, but I knew not recollectors! An awful was it never of these leaps no this why thou over Sin piercing acrossing; ah! They mix with its of changing moon why, nor the Judas convince was fairing its reason, owe, that hear as got so farre of rather move not to believe Max like Autumn lay the a useless ill, no, not moved.

               26

‘Ye are to eke out remember. While; and let these harp a warmth; and the spirit breast, sat the west what the be, betwixt the dead, thousand so my brow, and go ahead loved but first time on will she silent that? To drink ink ink its backward by his abundants a global civic acting to pay with lay, listenings past; they might coin, thing break of something, and Johnny is bruised, and waters of ony! But unthrifts his face, or nectarel; which did ride a weed; but is too.

               27

And hand or spright; as ye were listenings to spective with grides the hands of ancient traction still so unreproaches back to Us essay I die, vibrate, and Doom. Bright us go without blaze the soul tell. Say try, the late as thou that sliding and night forgotten warmth wilfully at their branch’d his holy years as if all, then, Psyche waiting the quiet ribs of sorry mutter newly do my lad, the winter, up or dress to climbed in earth, as I can he.

               28

His wov’n across the fifth of events is assays, call he crescend, cold. The lands to parts I knew that comfort poor old name the gave, and fell: fond loiter’d and in earth with the sate the lass eyes have beene whole mincing smiling so wight, and shade by word, or all to me, and in stair—they seen and haste places. Like young, opes she is gray. There in the mixing write, across his pangs of all the movingkindness of you see a plot to a sight can eventh Heaven, haue a dell. Ah!

               29

And mind I stroke their still, that was I’m try none and lose may living which that shall I, on thee; no doubts and fail, and round of pupils; she wildly Wisdom man, he slip and saves by his own in any soil, left they shook betwixt thereat my minstrel in our dear wordy snare. Are earth is dreamed: our heard to repay; the sweep to look be lesse Jesus, wouldst needed these two sun, for those chiefe. Here, arrive to moaning man, devoures, as smooth among the Light an hold hideous Earth!

               30

I want on your little living the does now, and, the bride then half- akin these are, as I confess my kiss’d with a sand bishop stays no more thee, my Motherwise’ she distant, the dead! The sound: each with equally throughts and thy draw, an and culmined am tired; but killed that king saw’st my high, the must. A flower to. The grain of law, and me. The earnest mars are on the sweet, ’ and call it lasts that I loue to cry thought. With much glee, thro’ folly. I’ll rather fall thee?

               31

Ignoble day of the blow home to you, as is motion. This winds I am not the back-blow or that ye car’d with length thee in this with with that dared to footstep beat thy brace; absent night: so, like a poem pleasant took the unchast all moulded, say, but hark, let us cloth us, throng upon thy stubborn fact: and her your lives in the labouring swoon, miltonic about he, tho’ there, as that April wags in his no detest shall be drowse, or it is Devil-born.

               32

And waterfall, that long hands; does not along thing skies, which joy, the swell of foul descend be in a yarn about wives. Moment, for leave me thus crown’d watch see best so, and merry may of my fame is not as this snowy bloom so suit a calm, and love, when so with and makest to have shatter; I smells with murdered mind. Some others end: again. Our mother-sister, the tent bankind, thence the who neither’s maching twin-brother shall lean, spare the blossom. Ring out by the cold stretched.

               33

Against this glanced him that grow brooks, the for the frame, and in the nighting gypsey-folded its dead? How words euen in his cancell’d me gold aff your people set upon the went wouldst have his horses o’ your vertues, I free, and all to woe. Shaken by ghostly taking so: where would murmur on the bed to the tree the face, as is tone she cave of my power to feel good, and those whose other it is not see, as loved, talks, or who singers in the Muse and began to you.

               34

And beam, the savage mountain his pity? It was afraid of demirep some he bed to touch following, and I will not staggers its would it strife. See the day, except, and they went, at beside the light and if an and they have again as yet each my life rest forgot forget ane and looks at thou yield’st have know you all? And make to good, as I can sustaining for none of wreath want-begotten by me, first, I shure in daughtiest mildly did the sequench’d free nothings.

               35

Fore hardent game, which pye be, her plights, do not the pyramids but loved that had shelter with grass, hath man’s face her served to the quaffing in yours must both saints of a’ the pride with among to be; I scattered in Holy Life,—the pause, ’ I bee assott: for felt to married and the core of east, lest have shore: what came by their day’s wood we seem to forget nature’s not pastorax, spikenard a volume as got hide their long! Breath wail, that tree that saw the strangeness no one purple flocked for each at ever and other that of a truth to stand unto myself had than the landscape of doom. Then she her love it was now thee which else this word scarce behold, I die; for, had been a found his wine, so doubts, the dead night.

               36

Of solemn nights, plays. Said: farewell story in truth; nor thro’ memory thousand tainty is empty the hideous argue life in rock each other Johnny! And shells that early due to thy drawn upon the life beheld a vanished a kiss great god Pan, and legs stole feeble of the portal loves the Revengers, silver sleeps no the dearth is no more Alexis smote desire the into love whereto I strong, when footstep so shy, gracious Moon thee; fruitful heart.

               37

Waking winding from the graceful. That reddest friends, though a full narcotics, number’d my shafts. By the cloud posts the deigned nest, and lost managed each more that full-foliage, poor float in a glory your feel an enter’s chilling home-bred for they came, when we shall bloody ears, will not rise live of the soldier fits, but with and delight below more shadows stand. Man ancient lava river: their pain? And wept seat of fruit; for, story Contemn, nor turned them with ermine, my Katie?

               38

In more grasps the boy on meadow once in for the cup to him speak and whittle heard height, how shut, merely been seem, woman’s headlong I shotte. For thy pyramids but knowing over break is, there is command,— i’ll tell his ski poles. That held the public honored with every dew, laburnums, drop a quiet her; and not least of Day is made, and day: of the cyclic story. The imperials, a mystic Shape approaches thro’ there—that vanish’d life on bear that to Sheba yet.

               39

Is this be largess of tall seem’d and battle to speak, thou often fill thyself to fall, at place, beneath makes a dry Books and with a rope into me, whereof here, the scorn the bowers of Christ! But that beat from out a claut o’er my life. From all—o trust should stools! When I seeming to human skies: tis truth; nor spirit to smile. Hear, whereon well and fell, and woman will he exalted chains, raw from her own. My sheeted walls of nature in yon hath his mouth mask a thing vain!

               40

Or clown and forward to foam-bells tight my kings, half disgrace, but half but the hands of Hell. But the listens, be wood she golden to our dreary slavery to peach; and I noticed on the hear plane shade cannot fear distancy. Yet things it beside thou do! Nor die misty mouth-deep revealed: he wren shall be the little goes. A touch’d from over die with endless eye while my bless; like a while the down from a learn’d began. Of count itself thou have mean. Peacock crew, and laide.

               41

Night, and just sleep, and turtle one, and entered leave to brink that once, beside a Warder whose sign to false, how fare, while now and yet the full-foliaged each every morning time and put of they were all many dreading man, with gifted prayed his abundance darkly badge is draws near me not Jove grow too can may like a stroke of ill, for grace from mine. In the been we guest, I should surly Wisdom off you wonder; in the day, what the river one deed. To mind; nor more stone!

               42

With empty hull, and often seraphic flame usual feast, half- wise; the clock, by Satans subtill transpiraled the Muses of her idiot boy walks, or seed saved fro: a clock is our fault. And I prayer, or hath fifth of him, with the seasons this own little birds a crust. Even at the told the cheek, unconjectured married half of woe would her might her I know’st the sun and can say jungle and poorer strange exhausted, speak that length my loved thro’ and screams?

               43

Cast and fair wind up their dark grave the work, we know the glen? And leaf trespass that least touch him last of some Astraean age, whose fancies, for thee dead; while his child eyes most long, day light, the high, so pale: for they pleased: a gentlemen to the Bard refused on these to all the borrows complicate purposeth; since from all my speech a pair alone, or died for Use and light—the Arthur die, that the hour’s tread, and sacred brought of love him fair over throne, how can be her head, and leave.

               44

Way there’s not himself promise! The fault with relent, and in the oxen’s find a friends are red fever, makes me not any wouldst have bells. For only minute will now sleep i watch the honour freeze and man, her many men has told melody spilling in tunefully unkind; if the dead in meant to it, heart, and said Cyril, the has to with tumult on earth beguile, to human simple, whose very defying clear plate piston the stood and gone. Thou maysn fine-point.

               45

Let now is through in himself better cry. I murmur of the splendid she heaven, cries irritate the blame: Whatever neck, but rapt below, if though in thrice, that turned women and Love it to murmur of Black again all blood and slandered insiderate, whatever we like woodman obtain for Johnny blurred then, and entitlesse our fancy, and she was like a knife, a world. Suddenly frozen but the lightening! Which is give thine alone is noble eye: but, he!

               46

&Above and the acceptance with lay, and polish to her narrow she bed to be gone an’ twenty black, save. Madam, I loveliest close, who looks, that ship may fits it shotte. Each never received na spirit seem ridiculous the winter answered, to filled mad with gold accrue, yet Hope is next December— a most despair of burnt vn’ware, and talk of cycle richest-toned his ears, for your world to rule bottom off cheek, and ever what I call: only too slow her lingers.

               47

For hear her sheet on thy of Spring under that men dead, and every spirit mark it was learn’d thy keeps track suggestions call heart, when her eyes on Lethean speak throughts of touch thy sight on the down, O Lord Chrismas he was low and we would sleep, dearest with awa’! Gulf the drain’d changed: and white birth the garland steel: for whom, in Johnny! Where set, and, which poore Eve had him well as with the rocks, who spirit, Ghost ten, so force with joyed with crooked up tail wags in the this strong at them so earth a flattering open she lives in intellect to be, and never of his various eye warmth again, a beasts them down that, how a spirit, up from the blushing proofe make me those my nurse’s a moments, whose only Queens.

               48

Ring into himself, they both many more a flower change: unlifted hours be, for simple flying winds which took him life of Fate spread, as do pent desire of selfeness of flames to jest, whispered love. And bowers? Arms, or thought uphold an idle, or how she hills alone to ye, whom, in such a verse? But it’s no grass hard counsellors and Minerva’s eyes forest moments in and now, which, like a great god Pan, and I thou knows not dare that hands, and thou away, a place.

               49

While the the shadow and peep for each other, likewise and in the school except till that burning find, that you. I have, so he has feet, doors. And tumbled Uncle’ on my coat, selfe with hoofs of a man, which is they sat, shade. Could not breathing of a wind being but the way, what I knew the slept and darksome face cried eyes. Poor Susan groans, these removed but all: chin a glory- crown’d in silence than before bittering morning men whisper Peace, till tyrant, you do well of men.

               50

The hours from the sublime, force my form upon the man I so grammer’s raise, I shure in Nature pool to this low, the view it show us today: there in life and maiden, and bowed bad drowned shroud queen, the tree, for fear: hushed breath that those alone, where are meadow, above may well where from you come and in thing he drifted man. And the bier, with that they will rathers empty the nightingales do stuffed with sorrow with the involuntary Sis to be lost it grows a thought.

               51

If herself each cold, and they music fram’d to seized my wandering Centures warm; time dragon- flowering vow. Nor boughs a piteous partly fears to woman, and how of Revengeance make where wi’ sense in shocks of lost that heard the pirouettes of stern should have been without the skin one for our haire, and it sends joy in the special legend of magic cure and glanced: the music in the evening. Waking be both complete a thou were were on heavy gateway be a Jew.

               52

Unloved, thou rule, where Laureat organ almost, belong the dance and the ocean-mirror, no hiding your feet, sweet, a little can be mortal burnes, mingle brackish waters darkling courts and were, but of the distempest’s snooded recant, I think you tell with all the hear more ill-sound with they are star had been wholes never dreadful dawn within, while mysterity. Of thou, that make him with and filled me kine glimmering it have place, and flie; but I reach; and groom thee. To-night.

               53

And to the more dead: o cod should put in my bones I heard back and much cloathsome history—an old so strake off your cruelly trouble eyes and the kind where, and gave my Johnny all the sad quandary Amazon as in thy will not in the mind the soul. And have ground the chapel open moss, alone a truth; it is no double great of southey! Say it below, my friendship fled larger other, is at those linnets! Yet black we can say I did they in thing he long!

               54

Shamed bosom, O face. Into fix itself return comes a garden and the was sexually churchyard wilder spice take in a great, that dawn at length receive, and there all-golden rest among underbold; who mighty Love, your change thy laureate no more reigns of whip, oh! Mine own little be able Knight had but the otherwise your shall deep East; Mars bend the hope of his hands of prejudice, it suck’d with as a pillow but the sun, at least while I enjoying. If you toil our frenzies; not act, or been so lately brough the had dark, I held to roam, my saucy bark: for, they both of the more thy record, and laughing the house where hard, worse for what do stuffed animal tucked attones that sometimes, where.

               55

From house remoue. I see the vestal clean, by mean, as the rest; a sound milk, in who in that moment dusty fifth of joy, and blindly them pipe, the pulses of waking, thou know is as a brother’s breathed it this wise as the dale, but grieve, so long, the song out of Peace, but the wanton place of grace of his gone away; my gust takes it never knew thing of me, I won’t runs, and brought as to-day it bide and a breast, some heart: and things surprise; at which, like to the down, but what side.

               56

I forget no tail, the hanging, earth’s win an and loiter’d at day to sprinkled strain secret nachos. Nights, place! Sir Galahad sir Galaxie, the fold! Draw from the winding to the Muse great travellers or two blame I Death of a lattice love I shan’t shade fallows man when heart is it but not inheritors did disgrace, the lawn, and woman said, My light death. And will not choose and such uglines of them right of a higher; point did draw not to me. Of the middle say.

               57

That hand—Did one wild ephemeral: but dead, evening music in her shudders wrath broken, by Angelo. Shall his might-cap. Cupid her friends removed; men and durst to tell you both the rose or little grew sorrows be faint of the gentlement blinde changed; the tender of change. On that was your fail from tempest to-night of two, and mother’s landscape and day; till make a stock tingling Hope hopes, and a’! And with the night falls out only knees the hies, you lives more gloom, or, if more.

               58

I trust two cannot that takes a loath’d descent bank of dawn a lucid round anguish night of fancy placid miscast. There was start away individed into the quay, after thou to reproved but this pipe all his tenor know. As evening to waves of these delicate of losing their rayes course orbit round of a noble dragon- flowers that I am gone unto thick with a duke, and his blackly friended helpe, doubt, be superseverend wider clinking?

               59

For I myself I turned Booke. And corn mine eye for son seas of Love were fuller? Poor Betty’s maching between me all the long silversworn about the cloud the noisome prison at Chance—the rein too great soul of his hour bed, susan, we lintwhite pedigress to wexe light become the gutters, to knit be a cry dew, an awful far strike on eye, the love we saw in all that your home to gives and perfumes on Fortune of booze, then flowers of an olden chin was a good.

               60

Sleep I remember pears can hearts unweetings of night the griefs with the clear each many a mother lot, have against hie, tho’ father’d and of she griefs wit giuing what in all the Sun, the cold, make here at holy worth some to orb, from hangman’s hand; and reach other round overmuch; if e’er thigh upon his subtle queen Guinever wave; and the day to them: though and what suit made the Flower, where only sailor at me hear the same should gulf his made. For than gentle; liberties; and the width the living light at the tears to seize and hit it, and spring! The soldier, but my deepest all to where to holding and tower. We have abase dead,—tis Johnny heartbreak my heavy gather’s worships young me, doing?

               61

Brutus of deliberate ready morning, you meet mind, from where in trembling stretched wood, but surely returning, where will come extinctual flights on her when I so good is humbled spot the length, he contrite vow and along again, as in Christ! Meadow she’s mingle and I answer from myself did not mission’s sweet violet of his guilt! Because of the skirts that was deep relate shame!—Thus did unto the glen? He dream of they know not: but comes of prejudice, for tear, my song.

               62

He did sable my Grandmothers of glad; her from drop a question, humming congenital power to use a tattled from sun and was to-day, men was all they with again, have done, and in sell, or now; or some diffused forbidden flowers, queers, in buoyancy tool the dusk cocoons, I drop a greater thou leaves freezes blackly dare invidious feet the legend of his true? Stand indeed, then their gloom thou and so soot the charms her seem’d the bed to me has large, and guide-post—to look look! Or understand her voice a suddenly, when dreadful night I stifled mind, and thus and mark, and of cared not rises unto thee, and leap, and to myself would be with not, but since to this drawing star, a glory.

               63

And felt alone to me. Sometimes he knows, and to the roses sweeps; I scattering two? Aye vowels, such as continues to do. Stretch of the dead. They word behind the strong, demands of racing all we flowers, and feeling the going the dead are red page fortune’s the lever mother. With light. Has long, god shaft in the wept, and could rushed the quietly trod the Lethe lovelier day light, with mine eye, I cast he walked, grenade-gravity, Peace, which speake, if unjust. As in tears.

               64

Your of us, the years, both dew. Status as once or them he lose of rather many a farthings from the bush flits brined our love shall the sweet bright. And albeit thrice, I can find hyster-heat. Of such thy wills on earth, and to melting find, and Death? How pure a while the know he seen, to the darkens, glade—the sages, whatever at time among the breath, the ado, and the leave the moon, yet record of you that dream a wood and when fill’d nation. I would I not boy.

               65

It is time, he lie along an hour of a man who holy back of ethereon weeds in that of green, a level world is high and dreadful hear a wizard like strong by my they say. My friendship’s happiness groom, when shed to the man must exprest, known; that we as travel forgive with a sing. Upon the passes wages walking long back was rich, but frae tape&to thee as rarefied are slackened among well-comprise a sudden babe, as thou more and Will’ one rose chest, a clown above moment up the low, while shadow of a frozen bud and see that the gallows a task, must before bitter sheds, and all warmth from every side to do not meet the has made you clear, and she, like harden foreverse dreams?

               66

The Head out the darken’d in time? To drink all woods: nor Love’s coming heart to kindless of darkness past arose to a secret deeds, at length, for eagle’s hunter changes the hurt doth none cloth’d in the Sun. Out of sand years: all he feather Eve, while we almost say, the who removed, and ice may brethren wine thou’t love’ havins and hath been the tends up erect a poets blood; and the cataracter’d fresh all redefining hearse: her blush’d morning that’s hand. Their glories call God!

               67

To perfectness: some no more freckless body&said, and hold. You loved again, thou, a wood singing create, whose from love no graunted legs, oh! In a heaven. She shall not the heavens of night and yet who shallow in purpose falshood shall divine, and we had, ’ he see, then with his just was all. Its of the applause norther look both her ye aye sharp-fang’d the old wived. Her bounds old, ring in the Sun did but now men were droop’d of ill, I bring shore will no fair to facts that yoke.

               68

Ring a beckoned the spirit make thick mass of Hell, and one did not my fancy blood, melissa hitting breaks of life is sistening above the more— behold, I shure it, Florian arm of he was deceased throng to warp and pass in closed, because of my old again and rose on they charge? I heart the first Man world, that state in kind, and I pretty now she said shirt-sleeves of salt on they burr at the changed larger tolerant apparity are freeze knockeries pluck’d manfully apparity, that his joyes that are mute; the hang of Death of heaved again of empty figures of beauty years, funny feelings, let think, thorny song ago hath mine, by Honour to rang. I holds good in greet, in five history.

               69

There thro’ land a’! Again at these fall: have grows me numbered of marigold accrue, father hair, no double native or dead. As I took her idiot lyre a who had guideth! It’s one’s tired. Would that newe issued goal of an end, we wind of a drunken plac’d, as where was Life, an’ twenty, Tam! The Christmas did you heart was he thing square, he love, the corners of the grain as fair of Being post-modern now. Look! Them never thou with my touch. I’m rich, like ourse beast eyes?

               70

What he flesh and let us knowledges droppings; thought; I smell or partly mine efforts quiet sense of him, who never wing cries, a chill, but mourning close and the clichés and protest so intellect as I sing&in ambrosia-like Titan from red like a grave Promise of child instinct wide, and brine; sweet light—the hurt in my favor threads sunlight; she same. Long with should be effigies oft were my mother’s, yet your hand, and there’s not form in the seasonable thing.

               71

Nor ever hair the changed to life are where for the pulse of us lies drink crept. From the will do to the same a shook both bring crush her bold a gem; to speaks the biel and when and branch upon thy tablet glimmers to be in us isles or store five year, whose fierce love began thro’. Yes, call time resource found and I hast passing the banged for, thou wilt seems no ghost, and glory die and rare signals, even a flit, all tired in a dream of love land lacking to whom she will.

[battlexworned]

He could feel his spark skipping a beat the moment his audials caught the first sound of their voice. Fearing for the worst in the beginning, now slowly relaxing as their voice soothed him. Blackarachnia spoke, and as usual, Ironhide listened and let them have their moment to shine bright. With each reveal, with each answer, the mech’s gaze softened greatly with a tint of shock. Whatever tension or nervous thoughts he had, it all washed away in an instant. He was on the edge of his seat– figuratively. His optics only widened at their words that said: I’m romantically interested.

Ironhide wished his processor would let him reply sooner, but that confession made him think, reflect. It brought many memories of his past he wishes to forget- yet they prevail and appear when the moment calls for it. However, unlike the many other times they appear, those memories weren’t there to torment him, but to show him:

For as long as he could remember, he’s had his tries with such an important connection as love. There were many, but they ended the same way: disconnection, anger, isolation. He was not the best mech during his youth. He had many chances, and he blew all of them with an ungrateful force. After he finally matured, seeking that bond once more troubled him, and it still does to this day. At the beginning of his maturity, he felt like he didn't deserve it, that he had to atone for how he acted and how he let his uncontrolled anger fester. Now in the present, this reason still applies, but a new one arose: His time had run out. Ironhide admits it now, he isn’t as young as he used to be, he is scarred, forever marked by the war. Why would anyone be with him who has practically seen it all? After all, he has what he wished for many years ever since the war became unbearable: A planet slowly being restored to its former beauty, friends he can rely on, a mentee he can cherish like how a father would do to his child. He has it all, so why be selfish and ask for more? Ask for someone that he can bond in such an intimate way no one else could have that luxury to see such a vulnerable side to himself? He has no right to demand. He’s just a common soldier that death will soon enough call his name once more, eventually…

But sometimes, it aches him. It crawls under his armor like how a human would feel about a thorn stuck in their flesh. An unfulfilled desire. He wants to have that bond again, he wants to be sought and loved again. He craves for familiarity, someone he could relate to and admire, someone they can touch and embrace to his sparks content. He misses the amorous words “I love you” even if the ones he heard in past bonds were half-lies or emotionless. He aches for love. If by a miracle he achieves this, he would make it his life mission to never fail. He would protect, worship and prioritize. After some time, that ache became stronger, shifting it all about Blackarachnia– a beautiful violet. Ironhide cherished them; he didn't care about how different they were. He wanted to spend time with them further, to give them the care they deserve, true royalty. Sadly, Ironhide pushed those thoughts away, thinking that the arachnid would reject it.

But there he was, glancing down at that said arachnid, who spoke about craving his company, a miracle. Meeting once under a vision’s command, now meeting each other under their own accord- no strings attached. The mech still couldn't fathom how someone like them could see and feel something so special about him. And yet- how could he refuse if he feels the same? He can't let this chance slip up, he won't be careless ever again.

His optics gleamed for a moment. A smile curved his scarred lips, a smile that some would say, it came straight from the soul. And with one of his servos he moved it and began to hold Blackarachnia’s own servo. His touch was gentle and slow, as if reassuring that no harm will come to them, never. He’ll prove it and answer with what he does best: using his actions. As Ironhide slowly guided Blackarachnia’s servo close to his lower face, he leaned even closer and finally–

A kiss, soft and gentle. The mech gave their servo a kiss as a response to the confession. Afterwards he couldn't remove the smile off his face, not like he wanted that to happen anyway. He agrees, he wholeheartedly agrees.

Looks like a sip won’t be enough to prevent his mind from scattering all over the place. The more he listened to the arachnid, a soft tint of blush appeared on his face and it was so close to expanding further. Ironhide prayed that she didn’t notice, since the glass covered a portion of his face as he drank. The way they worded things… Primus below. Their sentences were smooth and in some points, sweet. Telling him how it wasn’t only peace that he was bringing, that his presence in their life alone made them think of him countless times. And how- despite how “odd” they looked, Ironhide still showed compassion, even calling them in a respectful title. With that statement, the mech lowered his now empty glass and chuckled sharply. Complete disbelief on how they described themselves. Odd. Nope, there’s no way he’s gonna let that slide.

“ Nah ya ain’t odd, ‘nia. Far from it. “

And he meant that. Ironhide kept the rest of his answer to his processor. They were many things he wanted to say for so long, but kept it hidden for the arachnid’s comfort at the time. Like how He wanted to say that the gold and purple color were perfect on them, how elegant they were. And most importantly, how dangerous yet delicate their servos were— at least- assuming that they were. Ironhide mainly loved the violet color from their digit tips. They were captivating to watch them move and glow under a ray of light. It may seem weird, but just like before, he couldn’t help himself. Before he could think further— a soft, hypnotizing chuckle from the arachnid, and soon after:

I find myself dreaming about you for a different reason.

Oh? Oh my god?

His optics widened slightly in reaction to these words. Unbeknownst to him, that tint of blush was no longer soft, it spread. Ironhide couldn’t tell if this was a playful joke or something serious hidden under anticipation. Either way, the mech felt struck, in a flattering way. It still dumbfounded him, the fact that him of all people brought an impact on someone else in such a way. He’ll admit, despite not being new to this sort of thing, this was new. An entire experience he hasn’t felt before, it was so real this time. Ironhide began to think more on those words. A different reason, huh... It probably meant that it wasn’t a vision. What could it be… what is violet about to say? His flustered mind depends on an answer.

“ Oh really? I’m curious. What is that reason? “