#lyris real life

[lyrishadow]

Tentatively platying SWTOR. Want to get into writing fan fiction in my off times. I a. Playing WOW with hubs [ and without hi. too].

So in the time I've been off tumblr I have:

Discovered I'm neurodivergent. [ just how Nd I am is still a question. Truth is my budget does not stretch to finding out fir sure and this guess comes from my psychologist who treats my depression cptsd etc. ] best guesses right now is possibly autistic? It explains a lot. Add to that the rest of it and I get labked " high functioning" . Explains my issues with people/making and keeping friends, and a bunch of smaller things that I thought were just me being weird so I never complained.

Um I've also discovered I'm queer. More genderfluid than anything. It makes a lot .ore sense of my brain and honestly removes that pressure to *be* a girl constantly.

Anyhow that's my update.. oh and I turned 45. I'm still old.

Went back to uni too to study creative writing degree. 63% on first major assignment.

[thinkinglyri]

Hm the first thing I have to say is one pkt of Oreo cookies is very tasty. Way. Too. Easy. To eat. Will chalk it down to birthday eating and uh not do that often.

Im ok today. Bit sore waiting for hubby to get back. Wracking my mind for ways to get a little extra cash in so I can buy my game... whinge below the line

Next is me complaining below the line.

So looking at ff14 to buy it straight away it's in Euro so.. ugh maths. Google.

Looks easy enough. $36Euro... can't be...

Nearly 60au$$ sigh 😕 I mean I knew it wasn't free but... owie. So I'm doing surveys etc... $10Au so far...

I have a few ideas for books.

A self care journal. [ it would be a pdf that you print] qnd of course poetry. I don't know if anyo ever would even be remotely interested.

[dee-writes-smut]

FALL (Chapter Three)

FEATURING Azriel x Illyrian!reader

SUMMARY after falling down a flight of stairs, you are forced to realize that you aren't alone and that it's time to start healing.

CONTENT WARNINGS mentions of nightmares, apologies, scared reader, comforting Azriel, nosy Rhys, Amren (she's a warning), and injuries

AUTHORS NOTE I kind of hate this a lot, but here is the third part of the Season's series, Fall. Hope you enjoy! <3

Autumn descends upon the world like a tender-hearted healer, enveloping all in its embrace of warmth and renewal. The air takes on a crisp clarity, carrying with it the subtle scent of earth and fallen leaves, a fragrance that whispers of new beginnings. Trees, once adorned in the lush greens of summer, now don their autumnal attire, each leaf a masterpiece of vibrant hues—amber, crimson, and gold—painting the landscape in a tapestry of healing colors.

As daylight wanes, the sun bathes the world in a soft, golden glow, casting long shadows that dance gracefully upon the earth. The breeze, gentle yet invigorating, rustles through the trees, a comforting melody that speaks of resilience and growth. With each step, fallen leaves crinkle beneath our feet, a soothing reminder of the cycle of life and the beauty found in letting go.

In the fall, nature herself undergoes a profound transformation, shedding the old to make way for the new. Trees release their leaves in a graceful dance of surrender, preparing for a period of rest and rejuvenation. Yet, even in this quietude, there is a vibrant energy that pulses through the air, a reminder that healing is not a passive act, but a journey of growth and renewal.

As I found myself immersing in the healing embrace of autumn, I was invited to shed the burdens of the past and embrace the beauty of transformation. Like the earth itself, I was reminded of my innate capacity to heal, to grow, and to emerge stronger and more vibrant than before. In the gentle caress of the autumn breeze, I found solace, strength, and the promise of new beginnings.

(Early September, House of Wind)

Morning light spilled through the windows of the House of Wind, painting the stairwell in hues of gold and amber. Each step I took down the winding staircase echoed softly, the sound muffled by the quiet of the early hour. Shadows danced along the walls, elongated and wavering, as if unsure of their own existence in the gentle glow of dawn.

As I descended, a flicker of movement caught my eye—a subtle shift in the darkness that should not have been there. My heart skipped a beat as I turned to look, dread coiling in the pit of my stomach. The shadows seemed to solidify, taking shape in the form of a figure I knew all too well. It was Lyris, his smirk cruel and taunting, his blade gleaming with malice in the dim light.

Panic surged through me, my breath catching in my throat. It wasn't real, I told myself, but the terror it invoked was. Before I could react, before I could rationalize, my foot missed the next step. There was no time to regain my balance, no wings to unfurl and catch me. I reached out desperately, fingers grasping for the banister, but it was too late.

The world tilted violently as I fell, the sharp pain of impact shooting up my spine as I collided with the unforgiving stairs. Each jolt sent waves of agony coursing through me, my body bouncing helplessly until I finally came to a crumpled stop at the bottom of the staircase. Dazed and disoriented, I tried to gather my bearings, the pain a sharp, throbbing ache in every limb.

Footsteps echoed through the hall, growing louder with each passing second. Then, Azriel was there, his face a mask of concern as he knelt beside me. "Don't move," he said softly, his hands hovering over me with a hesitant touch. "We need to get you to the healer."

"I'm okay," I lied, attempting to push myself up despite the searing pain that shot through me. The room spun sickeningly, and I winced, sinking back down with a pained gasp.

"No, you're not," Azriel insisted, his voice firm but gentle. He assessed me quickly, his expression grave. "We need to get you off these stairs. Can you stand?"

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, frustration and pain mingling into a bitter concoction. "I don't… I can't…" I faltered, unable to voice the depth of my vulnerability.

"It's okay. I've got you." Azriel's arms enveloped me, lifting me gently from the cold, hard floor. I buried my face against his chest, seeking solace in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat amidst the chaos of my own.

As we moved, the memory of the fall replayed in my mind—the hallucination of Lyris, the terror of losing my footing. I had lost more than just my wings that day; I had lost a piece of myself. How was I supposed to heal when my own mind betrayed me with such vivid, haunting illusions?

Azriel's presence was a silent promise of protection, his concern a soothing balm to my fractured psyche. I clung to it, to him, as we made our way to the healer's chambers, the shadows of the stairwell receding into the background as we stepped into the light of a new day. I would allow myself to let him seep in my darkness for a moment. I would be selfish for just this moment and then it would be back to struggling alone, to protecting them, him.

Madja's room was filled with the subtle scent of lavender and sage, a calming ambiance that did little to ease the knot of anxiety in my stomach. The healer's hands were warm and gentle as she applied salves to the bruises that marbled my skin, her touch careful around the tender areas where my wings once were.

"You're healing well physically," Madja said softly, her voice soothing. "But healing the mind… that takes time, and often more than just my skills." She offered me a small, understanding smile, though her eyes were stern, hinting at the depth of her concern.

Before I could respond, the door creaked open, and Azriel stepped inside. His expression was unreadable, shadows swirling slightly at his feet—a sure sign of his inner turmoil. Madja excused herself with a knowing look, leaving us alone.

I shifted on the cot, pulling the blanket tighter around my shoulders as I faced him. "Azriel," I began, but my voice cracked, betraying my nervousness.

He moved closer, his movements graceful and deliberate. Stopping at the edge of the cot, he knelt so he was eye level with me, his gaze intense. "I've been patient," he said, his voice low and strained. "I've given you space, but we can't keep avoiding this conversation."

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing down on me. "I don't know if I'm ready," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

Azriel reached out, his hand hesitating in the air before gently brushing a stray hair back from my face. "I know you're hurting. And I know I can't understand everything you're going through. But I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to go through this alone."

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I blinked them away furiously. "It's not just the pain, Azriel. It's the fear," I confessed, the words tumbling out. "Every shadow, every noise—it takes me back to that moment. And I feel so powerless."

His expression softened, the shadows receding slightly as if in response to my distress. "I wish I could take that fear away," he murmured. "But since I can't, I'll stand with you against it. Every step of the way, until you feel strong again."

"How do you do it?" I asked, searching his face. "How do you live with your own shadows?"

A sad smile tugged at his lips. "By knowing which shadows are mine to control, and which are simply part of the world. And by having people I love to light the way when it gets too dark."

"What if I'm not strong enough?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me like a heavy shroud. Despite my efforts to steel myself against the pain, I couldn't help but curl into myself, feeling small and vulnerable in the face of my own fears. "What if I never get over this and—" I choked back my tears once more, the fear gnawing at my insides too overwhelming to voice aloud.

Azriel's heart clenched at my words, the rawness of my pain mirroring his own. With aching tenderness, he reached out, his hand hovering over mine, a silent beacon of comfort in the darkness. "You are strong," he said softly, his voice a gentle reassurance. "Stronger than you realize. But even the strongest among us have moments of doubt, moments when the weight of the world feels too heavy to bear."

My eyes, shimmering with unshed tears, sought solace in his unwavering gaze. "And if you never get over this… if the shadows linger longer than you'd like, know that you are not alone. We'll face them together, every step of the way."

The weight of my fear trembled through my shoulders; the depth of my anguish palpable in the air. "But what if I pull you all into it too?" I whispered, my voice barely above a hoarse whisper. "What if my darkness becomes yours?"

Azriel's heart ached at the thought, but he refused to let me drown in my despair. "Your darkness is not a burden," he said, his voice steady, unwavering. "It's a part of you, just as much as your light. And I would walk through the darkest of nights if it meant I could stand beside you."

He reached for my hand, his touch gentle yet firm, anchoring me to the present moment. "Let me help you carry this weight," he urged, his eyes locking with mine. "Let us carry it together."

For a moment, there was only silence—a heavy, pregnant pause that hung between us, charged with unspoken emotions. And then, with a shaky breath, I nodded, my grip tightening around his hand as if anchoring myself to his steadfast presence.

In that moment, as we sat together in the quiet sanctuary of Madja's room, surrounded by the gentle scent of herbs and healing, Azriel felt a flicker of hope ignite within him. No matter how dark the path ahead, no matter how daunting the shadows that loomed on the horizon, we would face them together. And with love as our guiding light, we would find our way back to the warmth of the sun.

(Mid-October, River House)

The air in the room seemed to hold its breath as I gathered the courage to speak, surrounded by the Inner Circle whose presence felt both comforting and daunting. Cassian's warm gaze, Nesta's softened expression, Rhys and Feyre's silent solidarity, Amren's unreadable yet somehow reassuring presence, and Mor's gentle smile—all of them were a testament to the depth of their care.

With Azriel standing at my side, his silent support a steady anchor in the storm of my emotions, I began to speak. My voice, though laced with uncertainty, carried the weight of my sincerity as I addressed them.

"I want to apologize," I began, each word heavy with meaning as I met their eyes, one by one. "For the distance I've kept, for the walls I've built around myself. I've been… cold, and for that, I'm truly sorry.

A hushed tension hung in the air, anticipation mingling with apprehension as they waited for me to continue. But instead of judgment or reproach, I found only understanding in their expressions—compassion and empathy reflected in their unwavering gazes.

"I'm ready to try," I confessed, the admission a revelation in itself. "To try again.. To heal."

Cassian's hand found mine, his touch grounding and reassuring as he squeezed gently. "We're here for you," he declared, his voice a solemn vow. "Whatever you need, whenever you need it."

Nesta's usually sharp gaze softened, her features etched with genuine concern. "We've missed you," she admitted, her voice carrying a rare vulnerability. "But we understand. And we'll stand by you, no matter what."

Rhys and Feyre exchanged a silent glance, their unity a beacon of strength amidst the uncertainty. "You're not alone," Rhys affirmed, his voice steady and resolute. "We'll face this together, as a family."

Amren nodded curtly, her demeanor as inscrutable as ever, yet there was a glimmer of warmth in her eyes that spoke volumes. "Don't make a habit of apologizing," she quipped dryly, a subtle reassurance in her words.

Mor's smile was gentle, a flicker of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to engulf me. "We love you," she said simply, her words a promise of unwavering support.

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I absorbed their words, the weight of their acceptance washing over me like a tidal wave. In that moment, surrounded by the love and understanding of my chosen family, I allowed myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was hope for me yet.

With Azriel's hand firmly clasped in mine, I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the arduous journey ahead. It wouldn't be easy, and the road to recovery would be fraught with challenges. But with the unwavering support of those who loved me, I knew I could face whatever lay ahead.

Night after night, the nightmares clawed their way into my sleep, tearing through the fragile fabric of my dreams with merciless intensity. Each time, I would wake in a cold sweat, heart pounding in my chest, lungs gasping for air as if I'd been drowning in the darkness of my own mind.

Azriel had been there from the beginning, his quiet presence a steadfast anchor in the storm of my nightmares. At first, he would come at the sound of my screams, offering comfort and reassurance until the tremors subsided and sleep reclaimed me once more. But as the nights stretched on and the nightmares showed no signs of abating, his visits became more frequent, his presence a comforting constant in the ever-shifting landscape of my dreams.

I would wake to find him sitting beside my bed, his gaze watchful and protective as he kept vigil over my troubled sleep. His presence was a balm to my fractured mind, a beacon of light in the suffocating darkness that threatened to consume me.

At first, I protested his presence, insisting that he had better things to do than waste his nights sitting by my bedside. But he brushed off my protests with a quiet determination, his eyes holding a depth of understanding that spoke volumes. He didn't need words to convey the truth—that he would stay for as long as I needed him, no matter the cost.

And so, night after night, I would wake to find him there, his presence a silent reassurance that I was not alone in my suffering. With each passing night, his visits became longer, his presence more palpable until it felt as though he had practically moved into my room.

I would wake to the soft sound of his breathing, the warmth of his presence a comforting weight beside me. His steady heartbeat echoed in the silence of the night, a rhythmic cadence that anchored me to the present moment.

In those quiet hours before dawn, with the weight of his presence beside me, I found solace in the knowledge that I was not alone. No matter how dark the night, no matter how terrifying the nightmares that plagued my sleep, Azriel was there, a silent guardian watching over me until the first light of dawn chased the shadows away. And for that, I was endlessly grateful.

(Late October, River House)

As Azriel sat across from Rhysand, the weight of the conversation about you felt even heavier upon his shoulders. His mind flickered back to the recent events—the trauma you had endured, the pain etched into your every expression, and the way you had leaned on him for support during your darkest moments.

"I've noticed the way you look at her, Az," Rhys's voice broke through his thoughts, bringing him back to the present. "And I can't help but wonder… Are you two… a thing?"

Azriel's gaze softened with a mix of fondness and concern as he thought of you. "I… I care about her deeply," he confessed quietly, his voice tinged with emotion. "Especially now, after everything she's been through."

Rhys nodded, his eyes reflecting understanding. "I know you've been by her side through it all, Az. And I'm grateful for that. How is she holding up?"

The concern in Rhys's voice mirrored Azriel's own worries. Your recovery had been slow and arduous, marked by moments of progress followed by setbacks. Azriel had been there every step of the way, offering his support and comfort whenever you needed it most.

"She's… she's trying her best," Azriel replied, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "But the kidnapping still weighs heavily on her. Some days are better than others."

Rhys reached out a hand, placing it reassuringly on Azriel's shoulder. "You're doing everything you can for her, Az. And she knows that. Just keep being there for her, okay?"

Azriel nodded, gratitude swelling within him for Rhys's words of encouragement. Despite the challenges they faced, he was determined to stand by your side, offering you whatever solace and support he could provide.

As they parted ways, Azriel's thoughts remained with you—the strength you had shown in the face of adversity, the resilience that burned bright within you. And though he knew that your path to recovery would be a long and difficult one, he vowed to walk it with you every step of the way, for you had become more than just someone he cared about—you were his guiding light in the darkness, his reason to hope for a brighter tomorrow.

(Late November, Velaris)

Stepping beyond the familiar walls of the House of Wind felt like a liberation, a triumph over the shadows that had threatened to consume me. As I walked alongside Feyre and Mor, the streets of Velaris buzzed with life, each step forward a testament to the strength I had found within myself.

Beside me, Azriel's concern was evident, his worry etched in the furrow of his brow and the gentle pressure of his hand in mine. But this time, I was determined to show him—and myself—that I was stronger than the nightmares that haunted me.

"Don't worry, Az," I said with a reassuring smile, giving his hand a squeeze. "I'm ready for this. Feyre and Mor are with me."

Feyre and Mor nodded in agreement; their expressions filled with confidence. "We've got your back," Feyre said with a reassuring smile. "We won't let anything happen to you."

Their words filled me with a sense of reassurance, a reminder that I wasn't alone in this journey. With their support, I felt invincible, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

As we walked through the bustling streets of Velaris, I couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration coursing through me. The sun warmed my skin, the wind tousled my hair, and for the first time in what felt like ages, I felt truly alive.

But amidst the excitement, a part of me couldn't shake the worry that lingered in Azriel's eyes. I knew he cared about me deeply, and the thought of causing him any more pain weighed heavily on my heart.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" he asked quietly, his concern palpable. "We can turn back if you're not feeling well."

I met his gaze with determination, my resolve unwavering. "I'm more than ready, Az," I replied, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "I've spent too long hiding away. It's time for me to start living again."

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[thekidsarentalright]

20 dollar nose bleed analysis: fourteen carats but no clarity

so, i recently received an ask asking me to analyze 20 dollar nose bleed, and in trying to post the ask with the analysis it literally vanished lmao! so, i'm posting it instead like this <3

the song is a very interesting and complex one that was Quite daunting to analyze, so i can only hope i did it justice and that u enjoy reading this! analysis is under the cut:

So, to analyze 20 dollar nose bleed, we’re gonna start off, naturally, with the first verse and break it down lyric by lyric, with said first verse going, “Have you ever wanted to disappear? / And join a monastery, go out and preach on Manic Street? / Who will I be when I wake up next to a stranger / On a passenger plane? (Passenger plane)” 

The interesting thing about these lyrics is that we have direct confirmation from fob/pete (via genius verified annotations) that the first two lines are about Richey Edwards, who was the rhythm guitarist of rock band Manic Street Preachers, who went missing in 1995 and was presumed dead in 2009. Pete says that the first piece, “Have you ever wanted to disappear? / And join a monastery,” is a direct juxtaposition to the “go out and preach on Manic Street.” And that direct juxtaposition is absolutely the most notable thing about these lyrics, with a monastery being a holy place, typically portrayed as very quiet and simple in terms of commodities, etc., versus rockstar life which is literally the exact opposite- being constantly very chaotic and loud and complicated, not to mention not being very holy, typically speaking. What I believe is that the narrator here is questioning, maybe themselves, maybe somebody else, or just in general, if the ‘you’ have ever wanted to disappear from this life to join a monastery, to have this quiet, simple life away from everybody and everything, or if you’ve ever wanted to disappear into being a rockstar, away from yourself and everybody and everything in a completely different way. Either way, you’re losing yourself to one extreme or another. You’re disappearing into it. I could also see this in connecting back to Richey Edwards, saying have you ever wanted to disappear from the rockstar life? As common with fob songs, i honestly feel it could be meaning both things, and overall the meaning is- pick your poison onto how you wanna escape yourself and your life.

To move onto the second portion of the verse, the narrator begins to question, who will they be if they wake up next to a stranger on a passenger plane? Which is continuing this idea of disappearing, i think. i believe this is meant to be playing with the idea that, on a plane, nobody knows who you are, you’re as good as disappeared when you’re on a plane surrounded by people who don’t know you. So, truly, who will you be if you wake up next to a stranger on a passenger plane? When you could be anybody, you could make them believe you’re anybody, you can use this as an opportunity to escape yourself and your life, who will you be? 

Then, the pre-chorus kicks in, with the lyrics going, “Oh, permanent jet lag, please take me back (Please take me back) / Please take me back, I'm a stray dog / Sick, please let me in (Please let me in), the mad key's / Tripping, singing vows before we exchange smoke rings”, which is a series of some real fun, tricky lyrics lmao. The permanent jet lag, in my mind, no doubt connects to the lyric directly before it- perhaps, the narrator is now regretting all the hoping and wishing and trying to be another person, they feel permanently jet lagged now, permanently exhausted and bleary and not fully there and they just want to go back. Back to where is the imperative question and severely up to interpretation, I’ll offer a few options- back to who they were before possible fame, before they started trying to disappear, before they got dependent on drugs (this song is so about drugs), or just… back to a better time for them, in general. The stray dog lyric also has some verified annotations by fob/pete, with him saying that it’s, about that moment where you’re so desperate to come back, you’re like a stray dog, which can either be pathetic or endearing depending on your perspective. To me, this really cooberates what i’m already saying about this pre-chorus- they’re desperate to be let back to where they were before, before things went wrong. Now, the ‘mad key’ reference took a bit of looking into, but apparently a ‘key’ is sometimes used as another term for a drug dealer, which i feel could be very applicable to the themes of this song (drugs), it could also just be a reference to say they don’t have the key to get back to where they long so desperately to be. Either way, the last pre-chorus lyric’s meaning is pretty clear to me, thankfully- they’re making promises, vow-like promises, before exchanging smoke rings, which is almost positively a drug reference. it screams of unseriousness, lack of commitment, the vows are being sung and the rings are made of smoke. they’re doped up on drugs, they’re desperate and yearning and not themselves. these vows are not real and the rings are as flimsy a commitment, to whoever or whatever this specific lyric could be about, as the smoke is.

After that insane pre-chorus, we get into the possibly more insane chorus, saying, “Give me a pen, call me Mr. Benzedrine / But don't let the doctor in, I wanna blow off steam / And call me Mr. Benzedrine (Mr. Benzedrine) / But don't let the doctor, don't let the doctor in”. The first thing we need to establish here, now that we’ve gotten the core of the drug theme, is what benzedrine is- it’s a form of amphetamine used for depression, as well as PTSD and those with sleeping troubles (it’s a stimulant!), with some of the side effects possibly pertinent to the song being drowsiness and nose bleeds (snorting it is a common way of ingestion also). This starting with ‘give me a pen, call me Mr. Benzedrine’ automatically has me thinking it is just an all around drug reference with the narrator alluding to the fact they’re snorting benzedrine to try and aid them with their problems. They’ve already alluded to having depression and permanent jetlag (drowsiness/problems with sleep, perhaps?) through lyrics before this, making it perhaps no surprise that they’re going to the lengths of snorting this medication to try and help them. Help take them back to where they so desperately wanna go back to, maybe? With the second lyric of the chorus, “But don’t let the doctor in, I wanna blow off steam” saying to me that they’re basically taking these drugs, perhaps to a concerning extent, but are then going and saying they don’t want help, they don’t want a doctor, they don’t want people to show concern for them or what they have going on, they just wanna let off steam. They just wanna cope in their own way without intervention, so don’t let the doctor in.

After the chorus, we have the second verse, which states, “It feels like fourteen carats, but no clarity, when I look at the / Man who would be king, the man who would be king / Goes to the desert, the same war his dad rehearsed / Came back with flags on coffins and said, "We won, oh, we won"”. This is an interesting break from the themes we’ve already had in this song, as before we’ve had the narrator talking only of their disillusionment with their own personal life and reality and the troubles they’re going through to cope with those feelings. However, here, it seems they’ve shifted from speaking on their disillusionment with their own life to their disillusionment with the world. The very first line is essentially saying that not everything is as it seems- a diamond can be hyped up as being so big and expensive, but end up being horrible quality. This allusion could be made about anything- what you’re told is not always reality. What you want to be reality isn’t always reality. This almost feels the thesis statement for the song, honestly (there is a reason i titled this analysis with this!). And if not for the whole song, definitely for this verse, as the rest of the verse is a direct commentary on George W. Bush (former President of the United States) and the wars he launched in the Middle East (specifically Iraq and Afghanistan). Many protested the wars as being incredibly destructive and terrorizing on the countries impacted by them, not to mention not being fair fights and being possible fronts for America to enter the Middle East for oil and exploit them. This stance is the one being taken with these lyrics, as the lyrics are essentially saying that the “man who would be king” (Bush), goes to the desert (Middle East) to terrorize the Middle East just like his father (also a former horrible president) did, only to come back claiming he won with thousands of soldiers dead due to his actions, bitingly calling out the celebration of victory when so much life was lost so tragically for virtually no reason.

Before the spoken word piece at the end of the song, there is only two other lines that are deviating from the pre-chorus and chorus we’ve already discussed, with those lines being, “Only one book really matters, the rest / Of the proof is on the television, on the,” I feel as though these lyrics really summarize a lot of what we’ve already talked about in a way, that way being that it really conveys further disillusionment for the state of things and is a biting commentary of that. The narrator is saying, what a lot of people truly believe, that the only book in the world that matters is the Bible, with nothing else being worth reading or trusting, while the rest of the ‘proof’ (proof of what is laid out in the bible, beliefs and morals that people blindly follow) is on the television. People will so often just blindly follow religion or what they see on the news and never dare to look deeper into things, keeping so much of the world cut off (sort of like the lyric is cut off at the end of it) or censored from themselves.

The spoken word part is as follows, and is a lot to unpack so we’re gonna try to do it lyric chunk by lyric chunk, “It's not me, it's you / Actually, it's the taxidermy of you and me / Untie the balloons from around my neck / And ground me / I'm just a racehorse on the track / Send me back to the glue factory / Always thought I'd float away / And never come back / But I've got enough miles on my card / To fly the boys home on my own / But you know me, I like being all alone / And keeping you all alone / And the charts are boring, and the kids are snoring / And my ego's in a sling / You say you're not listening and I said I'm wishing / And I said…I said!”

To start dissecting this, we’ll look at the section, “It’s not me, it’s you / Actually, it’s the taxidermy of you and me / Unite the balloons from around my neck / And ground me / I’m just a racehorse on the track / Send me back to the glue factory / Always thought I’d float away / And never come back”. Though this seems like a lot to look at at once, it’s relatively easy to boil it down to the fact the narrator is back to speaking about their disillusionment with their own life and problems, speaking to a possible romantic partner in saying the classic breakup line of, it’s not you, it’s me, except turned on its head to directly blame the other person instead of taking blame. They’re also saying, though, that the blame isn’t exactly on the other person directly but is more on the fact that the relationship was already dead (taxidermy of you and me). They’re then asking this person, symbolically, to untie balloons from around their neck and let them be grounded. This could be saying their partner was putting them up on a sort of pedestal, putting them above others, but with the line ‘I’d always thought I’d float away / And never come back’ working with this, I definitely believe this position of floating above others was a point of stress for our narrator as they felt they’d never be able to get away from this situation and could never come back from it, perhaps even choking them and being disorienting, causing them to need to be grounded. They then go on to say they’re like a racehorse on the track that needs to be sent to the glue factory, essentially saying they’re past their prime and needs to be killed and turned into something that can be useful again (old horses used to literally be made into glue. This is also referencing that). 

The spoken word continues, with the narrator once again shifting focus from themself to the world/politics and their disillusionment with those things, saying, “But I've got enough miles on my card / To fly the boys home on my own”, where pete, once again verified on genius, said, “the idea that in some capacity that the i could fly the boys in iraq & afghanistan home on my miles if the gov wouldnt fly them back :(“

To end the spoken word section, and the song analysis as a whole, it ends with, “But you know me, I like being all alone / And keeping you all alone / And the charts are boring, and the kids are snoring / And my ego's in a sling / You say you're not listening and I said I'm wishing / And I said…I said!” with our narrator essentially saying that find comfort in loneliness and being alone, and finds satisfaction in making others feel his loneliness as well (I want to keep you as lonely as me so you can get addicted to this vibes, showing this is a sentiment shared in fob songs previously). The line about charts is a bit of a stand out, as being one of the most obvious ones about fame and pop culture, continuing to show the narrator is just generally sharing their displeasure with things of the world, here stating a fact that the charts, the popular songs perhaps made with less heart, with the kids in mind less, are boring and causing ‘the kids’ to snore, to lose interest in music and art and fall out of touch with it, causing the narrator’s ego to hurt because well… i keep saying ‘narrator’ because that’s just how i do these things but this is about pete, and it is no question that kids falling out of love with music would be detrimental to his ego- sorry to get out of my analyzing persona here but it’s the only way i could think to put this part lmao. Anyways! The song ends with the narrator being not listened to, and them then trying to scream how they’re feeling and what they’re saying to be seen and heard like they want to be.

This song is a very very complex, interesting one, detailing all of the troubles and complaints and gripes of a person struggling with mental illness and perhaps even losing their grip on reality some, or at least on the reality they want to be in. it’s a depressing thing to want to be a different person, only to realize you don’t like who you ended up changing into, or realize that no matter how much you change you can never go back to when you were truly happy. And turning to unhealthy coping mechanisms like drugs don’t help either, especially when it feels like the world around you is dashing your spirits and hope constantly as well. Where is there to escape when even your escape is riddled with problems? As the title of this analysis says, and as i stated earlier as well, everything truly can feel like fourteen carats but have no clarity.

[tc-doherty]

You reblogged that Fantasy Ask Game, right? I'm assuming, because you sent me one.

I saw your post about Silverwood and you threatening to never shut up. I am calling your bluff. For Silverwood: I know the answer to Hero will be insane. And I'm also going to Wizard you.

Have fun!

@unclear-contributions

I did indeed reblog it and, the consequences of this are entirely on your shoulders.

Before I get started I just want to say that there is nothing metaphorical, allegorical, symbolic, or referential in Silverwood to connect it to any events, people, cultures, or what have you on earth. Certain actions are the same as certain actions taken in real world history but my characters use them for the same reason the people in our history used them, because they work. It doesn't mean one side is representing any specific people.

I am also leaving out a lot of background and explanation but this is already plenty long enough. If you want more information about anything, feel free to ask because as I said, I truly am capable of never shutting up about this.

That being said, here we go!

HERO - What makes someone a hero in this world?

In order to understand what can make someone a hero in this world, I need to set the context a little bit. In brief, a few hundred years before the start of the story the Emperor of Sanirra (Human) desired the wife of Lord Sereman (Drezhein) and sent people to kidnap her. This sparked off a brutal and bloody war between the two races which ultimately ended in a humiliating defeat for Sanirra. However, although the war technically ended, the conflict between the two races never stopped.

So, then, who's a hero in this context?

The cool and calculating Empress Lyris is a hero to her people even though after the death of her first husband she formed an alliance marriage with the current First Lord of the Drezhein, Seilez. She had three children with him, but none of them ever saw the throne as two of them died in ~tragic accidents~ and the third vanished under mysterious circumstances. Her marriage did usher in a brief era of peace, mostly, between the two races and she encouraged Drezhein to move to Sanirra…while at the same time passing restrictive policies that controlled their behavior.

Lord Seilez is a hero to most of the Drezhein who practically worship him because he is incredibly charismatic and they think that he's about to usher them into a new era of prosperity and civility. They are willing to follow his lead when it comes to relations with Sanirra and with his prompting, many of them do move there, despite the increasingly more restrictive laws.

This notably does not work on Ithea because she was basically raised in a cult so she recognizes bullshit when she sees it, and was the only person who was even curious as to why he was working with Lyris on these obviously harmful policies. Unfortunately she is not a hero to anyone because although she did initially have the support of some of the oldest Drezhein who hate Seilez, her actions are erratic and baffling. Before her death she is the most hated person in both countries. It's only much, much later that people begin to understand what she was doing and why.

The human descendants of Empress Lyris are also heroes to their people as they continuously flexed control over Sanirra AND Cylli (with Seilez's help) creating policies designed to drive the Drezhein into extinction. They can't do it with military might but they can by disrupting their culture, separating them from their families and allies, suppressing their language, interfering with their reproduction, so on and so on.

Ro, who lived a quiet life during generations two and three, is considered a hero in generation four because she is the person who figured out how to break and modify the magical trackers that the Sanirran government was putting on the Drezhein to facilitate their control. (Her siblings are so proud of her, she finally became a true Silverwood by breaking the law. Ro is irritated by this, but like her adoptive mother Ithea before her, she was driven to act in order to protect her grandchildren).

And Rona is considered a hero for inciting the Drezhein to result and ultimately leading the charge to toppling the governments of both Sanirra and Cylli!

Taking a break from that conflict for just a second, Empress Tristira is also considered a hero to her people for killing her tyrannical father and restoring order to their country of Daemirra, but that's a whole other kettle of fish with a whole other multi-generational history.

So there's lots of conflict, and there are lots of heroes and villains on both sides!

WIZARD - Who is your favourite character in this WIP? Describe them!

Ithea is turning 20 this year! She's one of my favorite characters I've ever created, and has also been with me through the worst periods of my life. Even aside from that, she's just so much fun. She's complicated. She's arrogant, and she's violent, but she's also cunning and eloquent. She wants what she wants and she does everything to get it, but the things that she chooses to focus on make no sense to anyone else, and that's the way she likes it. She's incredibly glamorous, and also brutal and manipulative and unpredictable. I love her!

Aside from the obvious, I really do have a lot of feelings about Cyan Silverwood who, compared to the rest of her siblings, is not a particularly important character. She has intensely public persona styled somewhat after the glamour of her adopted mother, but she's a very private person and even her siblings don't know much about what she thinks about anything. Anthem and Ithea, one might say, were not particularly good parents. All of the other kids managed to move on and became well-adjusted and had families of their own. But Cyan ended up being put in a position in the past that she has never been able to move on from. After Ithea died, Anthem became increasingly violent and erratic. Cyan asked for help from other adults in their life but didn't end up receiving it and ultimately had to kill her father to protect her siblings. They don't know about that. No one knows about that. But Cyan was incredibly close to her father and although she did what she had to do, it's very difficult for her to live with it. We don't talk about her much but it doesn't mean I don't think about her a lot.

I also really love Ro because honestly she's just hilarious. She dropped out of school and ran away at 14, got married at 19, and lived her perfect little life with her farm and her community and her loving husband and their 10 kids, only to pick up the Silverwood mantle and commit treason much, much later in life. She honestly hates being connected to the Silverwoods. Although she likes her family, the fact that people always call her Ro Silverwood is a source of constant irritation. She just wants to leave her past behind her and be evaluated as her own person!

~Fantasy Ask Game~

[oopsallmabari]

i always wished we got to see a little of the conclave before it ended so horrifically, since it's such a huge event but it feels diminished... what kinds of origins specific stuff are you thinking of? 👀

YEAH like the game focuses hard on the conclave issue being the death of the divine which like. fine, it's because of corypheus, but like. that's not what I care about nearly as much.

GRANTED I have mostly thought about this in the context of my own inquisitors (adaar, mage trevelyan, cadash) but like. the stakes are different!!! to me, narratively, there's a huge difference between the conclave as a business venture vs as a diplomatic mission vs as a above-average merc job.

a mage trevelyan enters the conclave and it is perhaps the most important experience of their lives. this could determine the fate if mages in thedas. you should get some actual context for the mage templar war, sew the seeds of different viewpoints of circle mages!! we know from origins there are different schools of mage political thought-you can't tell me the conclave for mages isn't filled with RICH political discourse. give Fiona a chance to seem like a figure with real power! hell, you can foreshadow vivienne's appearance in game, give us some idea of what it means to be a loyal circle post-rebellion. GIVE US TENSE INTERACTIONS BETWEEN MAGES AND TEMPLARS. THEY ARE TRYING TO BROKER A PEACE WITH A GROUP THAT IS CAPABLE OF USING DEADLY FORCE TOWARDS THEM (it's CUSTOMARY, even). a mage trevelyan enters the conclave presumably with some of the only friends they have in their life, and then everyone but them dies. how does that feel? how does that color the inquisition's response to their survival, this apostate who is the prime suspect for the divine's murder, the murder of hundreds of others?

even a non-mage trevelyan is on an important mission. give us the outsider perspective on the mage-templar conflict. give us more insight into the chantry's role and power since the trevelyan family is so devout. how are the free marches faring, since all of inquisition takes place in southern thedas? it's still a critical experience for a non mage trevelyan, but maybe this isn't so life and death for them. maybe their family members joined them to help negotiate. are the trevelyans trying to steer the proceedings any particular way? do some disagree on what should be done?

lavellans are LITERALLY SENT TO SPY ON THE PROCEEDINGS CAN YOU IMAGINE AN ORIGIN ESPIONAGE MISSION. we could have shown the dalish some fucking respect early on and displayed their cunning! their ability to seem unassuming and on the fringes while keeping the clan safe! is lavellan going to the conclave solo? how close were they hoping to get to the proceedings-how close to the divine? are there city elf servants, perhaps, that they intend to disguise themselves as? lavellans are one of the origins that explicitly aren't supposed to be there, so again, how does the Inquisition-the Chantry-respond to a dalish elf as their prime suspect for the divine's murder? tbh I feel like that is a hugely dangerous spot for a lavellan to be in.

an adaar was probably expecting some conflict as part of the conclave, but nothing so serious as what ended up happening. there's a huge opportunity here to delve into some of adaar's personal/family dynamics. are the valo-kas kindred to them,or just coworkers? who in the company stayed behind and out of the temple of sacred ashes? what's their take on the mage-templar war? THEYRE SECURITY, HOW DID CORYPHEUS EVADE THEIR DEFENSES? what did the valo-kas miss? were there other people up to mischief during the conclave that got ferreted out? were there other hired security groups that they worked together/clashed with???

cadashes are also spies, but with a much clearer bend to shape proceedings. what's been happening with lyrium as the circles disband? are there any signs of red lyrium at the conclave pre-breach? are the dwarves more inclined to see one group access lyrium over the other? how do they attempt to sway minds? the merchant's guild is probably also implicated in the conclave proceedings, how do they navigate?

idk ultimately, the way the conclave ends up for me in game is disappointing-we don't get to really feel how politically altering it is, we miss out on a chance to set up the big players in inquisition (rebel mages and the templar order, obviously, but arguably you miss out on a chance to distinguish orlais and ferelden even, especially for folks that are coming in to inquisition as their first DA game). you have no people connection to the conclave, no idea of the size of the event. everyone else at the conclave died but all anyone else cares about is divine Justinia. is there NOBODY the inquisitor loses at the conclave? no other important dignitaries whose absence could shake up thedas? when the inquisitor enters the Fade and the Nightmare dimension, you're supposed to be getting back memories of the conclave that were terrifying, but there's no real horror. no disgust at what's happened, no reminder besides corypheus, who at that point we have already seen, so there's not much new or poignant to emotionally tie me to.

idk, the conclave explosion is fucked up. and I want more of it.

[ja-lin]

More trivia stuff now that Night of Sin episode 3 is release! List of Lovestruck characters or series I mentioned (not by name, but by description only) in episode 3 of my story.

Gangsters in Love and Queen of Thieves series are mentioned.

Sweet Enchantments is a fantasy novel in my story.

Zain and Liora are mentioned.

Turnips are mentioned.

Reigning Passions is a real life TV series drama in my story.

The main plot of the show follows Sevastian’s story as the winter prince.

Lyris is mentioned.

Havenfall is for Lovers characters are mentioned if you select certain choices.

Lilliane is mentioned.

DSD Corps and Antonio is mentioned.

Mac is mentioned.

Rahim is mentioned as the ritual specialist, but I think that was already canon in the original Sin w/ Me.

Thew, that was a lot! Just trying to pay homages to as many characters as I can from Lovestruck lol...

[megatraven]

Still not over the fact that Lyris wrote a play about his and MC's life together while he was under the Fetch's memory loss spell and says that MC is forbidden fruit cause he's falling for her all over again and then when his memories come flooding back he screams in anger and pain and he screams her name and Lyris, real Lyris comes back for a minute or two to say that he's fighting every second of every day and then when the spell takes over again and he realises that he's practically in MC's lap he blushes and becomes flustered-

[badass-at-fandoming]

My Favorite Betrayal: Sevastian of the Winter

As one of the starter love interests for Lovestruck's popular Reigning Passions series, Sevastian of the Winter is a tumblr favorite. When I finally got around to reading his route, I enjoyed the stunning art and intricate writing--but this one moment really knocked me off my feet. I gotta post about it. Major spoilers ahoy.

One of the major themes in Sevastian's route is betrayal (which works so well in conversation with the theme of duty in Amara's route. The two routes are truly two sides of the same coin. But that's another post). From the plot to the art, betrayal, and its consequences, are everywhere. The decapitated statue in the Winter Quarter. Sevastian's nickname as "The Betrayer Prince." Heck, the Mark of the Betrayer Sevastian receives is mirrored on MC's sword-esque wedding dress.

[[Image ID 1, Sevastian pulls back his shirt to reveal a gleaming blue sword tattoo. The text reads, "Lines of twisting flame trace the shape of a stylized sword."]]

[[Image ID 2, MC and Sevastian stand side-by-side in their wedding clothes. MC's white dress has an incredibly deep and narrow neckline, with silver chain keeping it in the shape of sword. MC says, "Today marks the beginning of our life together."]]

As the plot goes on, Sevastian betrays, or contemplates betraying, various people and causes. Under the Silver Dagger persona, Sevastian betrays the other nobles by stealing their wealth. He betrays Lyris' trust and friendship by not talking to him after the wing debacle. He thinks about betraying his morals by murdering his father. You get the picture.

But there's one that stood out to me by a mile. It's this scene in s5:

[[Image ID 3, With weeping willows and fireflies behind them, Sevastian and MC stand distressed. MC has hold of Sevastian's forearm, while he leans slightly away from her. They both have anguished expressions on their faces]]

Let's re-orient. MC figures out she's the lost heir to Altadellys' throne. Lord Ubel, Sevastian's father, is salty about it, and MC and Sevastian flee his wrath and the capitol city. They hook up with the rebels, who oppose Ubel because he's an uber-rich dillweed. Led by General Nisse, the rebels task MC and Sevastian to convince the neighboring nation of Rovdyr to send troops and supplies. Our duo is on their way, but an ally betrays them. The situation devolves into a fight. A poisoned blade stabs Sevastian. Only MC's great-grandmother Edera pulling Sevastian into the hidden land of Fortrylle saves him. In this land infused with magical energy, time "stops" for Sevastian, and there's time to find the antidote for his ailment. Which is great, except the rebel cause is pressed for time. They need those Rovdyr allies. As illustrated in the above CG, Sevastian has the brilliant plan of leaving Fortrylle, letting himself die, and thereby forcing MC to get on with her royal future.

And I saw red.

My reaction was as searing as it was visceral. As a queer person, it's a very special experience to feel seen and represented in a work, but this was the first time I felt seen and absolutely hated it. This time, Sevastian was betraying MC and all they had fought for to be together. By throwing away his life, he was throwing all the choices MC had made to be with him right back in her face.

Part of the strength of my reaction stemmed from the fact that I had the 1980s AIDS epidemic on the brain. I'd recently watched Netflix's Circus of Books documentary. In it, a monogamous cishet couple recalled the epidemic and how it affected their lives and bookstore, which was a gay hot spot. Overnight, it seemed, their employees and customers started dying. They added hospital runs to their weekly errands. They called homophobic parents to inform them of their son's death.

And here, in the distorted mirror of fiction, was another queer man dying. No, not dying, but killing himself, so his partner "didn't have to suffer." So they "wouldn't be held back." So she could "move on" with her life and her queenly destiny. I'd heard those reasons before. I spiraled into the hundreds of stories of queer people killing themselves so their straight-passing partner could integrate into the heteronormative; into what others wanted them to be. The parallels drove me mad. Like these other deaths, his suicide felt so needless. Sevastian went on and on about how the rebels needed their queen, their rallying point.

The real kicker is: they don't. Like, no gamer wants to hear that their character is unnecessary to the story, but it's true in this case. MC and Sevastian don't bring anything particularly special to the rebel cause. They don't know military strategy or secret supply routes or a hitherto unknown access point to Altadellys. We learn later that Captain Amara and Queen Safir are around. With Amara's long history of service and Safir being the literal lost queen, they lend an equal, if not greater, sense of legitimacy to the revolt, and are excellent rallying points. Even securing Rovdyr forces don't require MC: General Nisse makes a war treaty with them on her own in Amara's route. The most MC and Sevastian contribute is Ubel's stolen funds. But once those are handed over, they're superfluous.

Just to nail this point home, MC has repeatedly said she doesn't have any particular inclination to be queen. It's more that the other options are terrible. Any destiny to be queen, any ultimate desire to wear the crown, is all in Sevastian's head. He's ignoring what she most wants, which is him, alive and by her side and loving her. I wanted to throttle him. In the midst of sickness and death, they had a chance to live in peace.

So, my God, was I impressed by this writing. For the low, low price of $0, I was absolutely knocked on my ass. Shit's GOOD, bro. I had to gush about it. Thank goodness the next scene gave us an affirming cuddle as a breather.

[[Image ID 4, MC and Sevastian stand close together in a grove of weeping willows. MC's eyes are closed. The text reads, "I lean into his chest as he curls his arms around me, half wishing I could crawl under his shirt and hide there."]]

This post is mega-long and has not real point besides LOOK AT THIS PRETTY, but ya know. Binge read Reigning Passions and you'll see what I mean. Thanks for reading!

[aquagirl1978]

First - how dare you make me not like Lyris! even if it's only for a moment

I know it's not actually real - we are floating through Sevastian's memories here - the events likely happened, it's just the interpretation of what was said that's changed. The reader might not have caught on to that fact just yet, so this scene really stings the first time. The pain and guilt that weighed on Sevastian was immense for him to see Lyris, someone full of life and love and I don't think ever hated Sevastian, in that light. Was Lyris a bit cold or standoffs to Sevastian after the incident? Absolutely! Their friendship was severed then. Lyris also stayed away because Sevastian was so chilly to him, something he did to protect Lyris from further pain. Sevastian projected his guilt onto Lyris, so much so, he could only see Lyris as hating him. There was no other way for him to view Lyris but as someone who despised him.

[lyrishadow]

I truly hate being sick because I didn't sleep well 🙃 now I need a bit of sleep before I try writing but at least that was today's plan.

Please have a new bounty hunter [not on star forge ] and Tamarillo [Star forge main] as my own incentive to sleep... write and play today.

[annoyed-galaxy]

Arrival Aftermath

Mass Effect really said "give me your heart strings" with the Arrival DLC. There was a lot to unpack during it and Lyris Shepard needs immediate therapy. Just some small stuff I wanted to write because yes, angst and fluff.

Your galaxy is in sight. You final days are at hand.

I will die never having seen the Reapers’ blessing.

You’ve taken them away from me. I will never see the Reapers’ arrival.

You have become an annoyance Shepard.

Prepare for the Arrival.

The voices floated around in her head, in the mixer in her hand, in the oddly colored liquid that poured into her glass and down her throat. The stars sped past her as she drunkenly stared out of the view port. Each star she imagined getting brighter and brighter before consuming their systems in a massive explosion.

What the hell happened out there, Shepard?

Even as she had filled out the report while Chakwas examined her for any wounds, she really couldn’t have described what happened. God, what if she was going crazy? Was the countdown accurate? It had to be. The Collector General wouldn’t haven’t appeared otherwise if it wasn’t. The Alpha Relay had to be destroyed. Since the keepers at the Citadel had been reprogrammed to ignore the Reapers’ signal, the Alpha Relay was the closest choice they had.

But now it was gone. The Reapers wouldn’t be able to make it across the galaxy to consume the life they wanted through FTL. It would take them years. One star system destroyed to save trillions of lives. It was worth it. She could have warned the colonists within that system, but there were under two hours left when she activated the Project. There was no way three hundred thousand people could have evacuated in time.

Still...maybe she could have saved some of them. But they were batarians. They wouldn’t have been grateful for her help. She was human. They would’ve probably cursed at her, claiming she destroyed their homes for nothing. After all, literally no one else wanted to believe her about the Reapers except for those working with Cerberus.

Maybe they were all insane. Maybe Saren was manipulating them all.

Lyris shook her head and threw back another shot of the awful tasting, yet strong, liquor. She just committed mass murder. She has killed many people in her life, but never quite the way as destroying a mass relay and causing a supernova-like explosion. If Ashley was right and God did exist with Heaven and Hell, Lyris knew she had a one-way ticket straight to Hell.

The door to the port observatory opened as Lyris poured herself another shot. She could have sworn she asked Kasumi to give her some space. Maybe so much time had passed that Kasumi wanted her room back. But that wasn’t the case as Lyris saw in the corner of her eye a familiar shape grab one of the stools by the bar and place it next to her.

She had been with Garrus long enough to learn his turian facial expression of worry and concern. Shit, it felt like just an hour ago she was holding in a laugh at the obscene metaphor he had made. She felt something touch her leg and looked down to see his hand resting on her thigh. The guy must’ve done some research on human contact, that’s for sure.

Lyris didn’t say anything. How could she? She had committed mass murder for what may or may not have been a real invasion and possibly thrown her entire race into a war against the batarians. She had officially reached the status of a monster. Yet, Garrus was sitting next to her, staring at the stars, slowly caressing his thumb in comforting circles on her thigh.

Lyris downed another shot before offering the glass to him. “Want one? It’s dextro-DNA friendly.” She loved the way his mandibles lifted away from his face whenever he chuckled. Turian facial expressions were so interesting.

“I’m good. Someone has to stay sober to make sure you make it to the toilet when you throw up,” he replied. She could hear the joking tone in his voice layered with worry and concern. Probably more about her mental stability rather than physical injuries. Chakwas had cleared her of all those when she got back.

“Your loss,” Lyris shrugged and took another shot. The events of what happened at the asteroid hung over them like a thick cloud. A knife could cut through the unspoken tension between them. She sighed and then finally put her hand on top of his. “Look...I don’t want to talk about what happened,” she whispered, looking down at their hands. For someone with only two fingers, his hand was still bigger than hers.

“I know. I want to ask about it, but I figured it’s probably best to just...be here,” he replied, his dual-toned voice quiet.

She smiled a little bit. “You’ve been doing some research.”

He chuckled. “Humans have different emotional needs compared to turians.”

“That tells me you’ve been considering more than our little tiebreaker,” Lyris nudged him with her elbow.

He finally turned and looked at her. He wasn’t wearing his lens so both of his eyes were clear to her. Eyes, no matter the species they belonged to, spoke millions of words, expressed thousands of emotions. They truly were the window to the soul. This was especially true for Garrus whose eyes looked at her with such a fierce emotion, she couldn’t quite place her finger on it. “I told you before, you’re the only damn friend I have left. I care for you. I know that what you did was something you didn’t do lightly. Shit, we all know you’re not afraid to punch your way to an agreement but destroying an entire system? That’s not even on your level of extremes.”

She couldn’t tell if he was trying to be comforting or guilt tripping her. “Ouch,” was all she could say.

Garrus sighed and she felt his hand shift under hers and grab it. “I didn’t mean it like that, Shep. I just mean...you’ve been through hell. You’ve done a lot of things that most of us could never do. I’m just concerned if this was one of the final straws. I feel like you’ll break at any moment. Even before you died, when we were busy fighting Saren and the geth, I could tell you were dealing with some deep shit beforehand.” Garrus looked down at their hands. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

She didn’t know whether she should cry or smile. Someone in this galaxy was looking out for her. She squeezed his hand. “I’ll be okay, Garrus. I promise. Just...stay by my side.”

His mandibles moved slightly in which she interpreted as a smile. “I can do that.”

She was not mentally stable at all. She knew that. But just having someone next to her, making sure she could still push on even after she dragged herself from hell...the future looked promising. If she died on this suicide mission, then so be it. But if she lived...she would have something to look forward to.

[sunflowerghostvol06]

No judgement - breaking through the mv

This is my intake and analysis that I've done for No judgement by Niall Horan, feel free to comment and differe! But don´t forget to be kind ♥

We all as a colective assume that this song was written for H, right? In a instagram live that Niall did on May 28, 2020 he explains that No judgement is about someone he's known for a long time, mentioning that the lyris are very self explanatory.

You can see it at minute 30:52

Why this is important? Well, because there are a few "coincidences" in the music video that when I first saw it made me think it was full of H references (and possibly Louis/Larry too, but that's just a wild guess, so pinch of salt on this, as I will try to make it as neutral as possible). So I'll explain what I can see.

1) At the very begining of the music video we can see this little figurine right next to Niall, it's right there on top of a pile of books (out of the ot5, H is the one considered as a reader, there are bookstores out there that put up a Harry Styles' book section)

now, this is a hint to me because it takes me back to this moment in the Kiss you mv (2:52)

2) Right after that we have a fishbowl with two fish which had me thinking about William the fish and the Adore you mv (also, something extra, Changes by Cam mv also features a fish and there's a whole theory about that x and x) mind you this music video came out exactly 2 moths later than Adore you mv:

3) The amazing representation of 'Bring back manly men' photoshoot Harry did for Vogue and as a response to the hatred he was receiving, in the music video Niall did this:

We also know that while in 1D H almost always had a thing with eating a banana mid concert, there are memes made out of this, it's just so funny: a quick search on google and you have this as a result

4) Video continues and now we have Niall with his banana and a beautiful couple in front of a bear holding a sunflower. I'm so sorry, I try to make this neutral, but this is just too loud to go unnoticed: a) because there is a fricking bear, and we all know that Louis' nickname is boo bear, H actually called him that a few times (que to the happy birthday, boo bear and thanks boo bear interview) and b) the sunflower, H has a song called Sunflower, vol6 and it's one of the songs that just screams longterm relationship, and there are loads of sunflowers in this mv for it to just be a coincidence

What kills me about this is the fact that as soon as this couple comes in the shot, all of a sudden there's blue everywhere, but not any type of blue, oh no no no, a specific type of blue. And you'all know exactly which one:

And how could I not mention the deliberated use of blue and green here, everything else in the shot is neutral colored but not those in particular. Why? Give me a non-Larry explanation, please, I beg of you

5) we have loads of fruits everywhere, they're there and who in this world is forever associated with fruits? No other that the kiwi, watermelon sugar, cherry, banana guy

6) The fact that there's a fricking birthday cake in the music video, just 5 days after H's birthday. Look at the number, yes, it's one year off because this is 2020 and H turned 26, but still, too much of a coincedence if you ask me (also, it's right in the middle of H's age and Louis' favourite number, just saying)

Something to add, notice how the old man is wearing blue and a bowtie with a hat, we've seen H wearing that type of hats before, and notice how the old lady is the one holding a cigarette.

Anyways, this is as much as I could post, this is what I saw and read from the music video. All in all I'm in love with the song, with Niall's voice and as he said: "No Judgement is one of my favourites I’ve written. Loved writing this song as I knew exactly what I wanted to say. And from blank canvas idea to the most colourful and most fun video to make with my guy Drew Kirsch. What a day with the wonderful Pimm and Barbara, the real stars in this clip. Let’s stop judging each other, life isn’t about that. Enjoy it and enjoy this video! Go and dance like no one is watching."

Hope you have a great day! And happy pride to everyone!

TPWK ♥

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Shelbys at Somme: Chapter 4

Thomas X Reader

2306

Summary: Flashbacks and First days.

By: @adventuresintooblivion

[ Nine months before Somme]

“Why are all of the songs you sing happy?” he asked, mouth half full of slimy porridge.

Y/N glanced up from her rations, “What do you mean?”

Thomas shrugged, “You always sing about fighting or beating the odds no matter how bad it seems. Or about how angry everyone is about the war. Why don’t you ever sing anything that’s sad?”

She put her spork down, “You want me to sing a sad song during war?”

He didn’t answer right away, only shoveled a couple more mouthfuls down his gullet. After a swig of stale water he continued.

“I dunno. I feel like we should be allowed to be sad sometimes. Singing all these happy songs feels like we’re pretending that all the bullshit we see everyday isn’t real. Like we didn’t just watch several men lose their legs or that artillery didn’t just rip a man in half.”

Y/N let out a long sigh, “Thomas, I love you, but dear God man I’m eating.”

His heart skipped a beat. This was something he wished more than anything was real. That went beyond the comradery of soldiers. Yet, he schooled his features into something more neutral. Despite the fact that he craved to hear the words again but it was their spontaneity that was precious to him. 

Thomas was barely able to scramble together a reply, “I just want to feel again.” He blinked, not exactly sure where the admission had come from. Though he couldn’t take it back now.

Over the next few days he’d catch her humming a melody he didn’t recognize. Some parts she would work over again and again. Others would be there and gone, carried away on the breeze. When she sang it to them for the first time it was after a rough day. 

They had lost a handful of people to a tunnel collapse in the northeastern sector and all the hard work they’d done over the past six months was completely scrapped. One of the members of that team had been the youngest in their company. He had a fiance with a baby on the way even if he couldn’t yet grow a full beard.

She’d been perched on a piece of rubble that had fallen from a church. Her voice was clear and perfect as crystal. The song was about a soldier going home to find his wife bleeding on the floor. She’d ended her life to be with him after receiving a call that incorrectly informed her that his company had been massacred. 

The men of the 174th wept that night the hardest they had since the war began. All the pent up rage and fear leaking out onto their pillows in the dead of night. For those who couldn’t be silent, they wept with their heads held between their hands in an attempt to muffle the noise. It was the army though and no one ever questioned crying men.

Thomas hadn’t cried. He was more angry about the deaths and couldn’t quite settle down enough to listen to the words. It wasn’t until she’d sung it a second time it had unraveled him. She’d changed the ending. The first time the wife wasn’t saved and the soldier had to move on without her. This time, they lived into their greying years with the knowledge that life was unbearable without the other.

“Why is it the ‘happy’ ending?” she asked him once.

Thomas shrugged, his eyes still swollen. It was one of the few times they were alone and she’d sung it for him. He didn’t mind being the only audience but it had made the unexpected turn in lyrics all the more powerful for him. 

Thomas’ voice cracked as he spoke, “Don’t ever sing that in front of Hopper.” He elaborated when she raised her eyebrow, “If you sing a single note of that in front of him he’ll figure out you’re a woman.”

Y/N froze, “How did you know?”

He smirked, “You never bathe with the other men. Your uniform is always too big. You’re almost a head shorter, to the point I’m surprised no one has said anything. And your face does the thing”

“What thing?”

“That soft thing that everyone thinks is cute.”

He swore he imagined it but her cheeks turned a light pink, “Did you just call me cute Shelby?”

He shrugged, “Just keep the singing away from Hopper.”

〜

[Present Day]

Y/N awoke the next morning to the raucous laughter of dozens of men floating up the stairs. With a bewildered groan she checked the small window to her room to find that it was at least past noon at this point. On Saturday.

She cursed to herself as she quickly dressed in trousers. Her leg almost didn’t lift high enough to get inside without pain shooting up her back. With an audible growl she shoved her limp foot through the hole and grabbed her violin case. A passing glance in the mirror told her that her hair was wildly out of control, but if the singing had already started it was too late to fix it now.

Y/N practically hopped down the stairs on one leg. Twinges still assaulted her with every step, but it was better than just hobbling around on a bum leg. Which she’d have to do anyway on level ground.

Upon descending into the bar, she was confronted not by the milling groups she’d seen at lunch time the previous day but a completely packed room. Fully grown men were pressed shoulder to shoulder all staring up towards the front of the bar. A woman’s voice lulled over some lyrics Y/N recognized as a folk song that had become popular again after the war. Nostalgia always popped up in weird places.

With some luck, and her short stature, Y/N squeezed her way close enough to the bar that she had enough elbow room to play. Standing in front of the bar was the woman she’d seen at the opera...and the restaurant. Once she was done with her current song she waved to grab her attention.

Grace’s eyes practically bulged out of her head when she noticed Y/N, “Uh..Y...Yes? Can I help you?”

“Oh, this is weird,” she mumbled to herself. Speaking louder to be heard over the crowd, she lifted her violin case, “Thomas told me I was supposed to help you out on Saturdays. What would you like me to do?”

Grace’s eye’s cast about wildly. “Did he hire you?”

“In a way. Did you need help or…?”

“Yes. Yes. Set up over at that end of the bar. Do you know Black Velvet Band?”

Y/N nodded as she moved. “I know most of the popular songs. But if I don’t know something I can usually figure it out after the first verse as long as it’s nothing weird.”

For the next several hours, they entertained the patrons of the Garrison Pub. Grace could usually sing several songs in a row, but eventually she needed a break and that’s when Y/N would go from a supporting role to the main role. After Grace had rested and filled orders, she would once again relinquish center stage.

The patrons were eating it up, and at one point Y/N had caught sight of Jerimiah. She waved in a small pause in the music and damn near killed the man. He had turned ashen when he’d registered who she was and had begun to sway only to be caught by Danny, who’d stopped by after an errand. 

He’d quickly left, returning a couple hours later with almost the half the platoon they’d served with. The bar, already almost at max capacity, was now so overflowing with people that the party had begun to spill onto the streets. Someone had gone home and grabbed a portable skillet and had offered to cook anything people brought him. Soon the smell of grilled meats wafted through the slums of Birmingham. And the Garrison Pub was serving every single one of those thirsty people.

At some point a couple of men had constructed a makeshift stage for the women to perform on and had urged them outside. Now the dancing had started as women came to find their husbands up to their ears in drink and food. Children ran amok, mimicking some of the dances with others finding whatever they could to play with as music brought this part of the city to life.

It wasn’t until the sun had begun to set that someone caught sight of Thomas Shelby and his family approaching the Pub. Word spread quickly, and most continued their revelry even if it was subdued. Finally, Thomas made it to the foot of the stage. Everyone waited with baited breath to hear what the gang leader had to say.

“So, allow you two to play music for one day, and it becomes a feast?”

Y/N finally put down her violin after hours of playing. Her back practically screamed at her to sit down, but this was the first time she’d played to a crowd like this in years. She’d missed it.

So she did what she always did. “That’s what you get for sticking us both up here. Hell, between the two of us I’m pretty sure we could play so well the pearly gates themselves would open for us.”

“After all the shit you’ve pulled?” He raised his eyebrow skeptically. A soft murmur went through the crowd as people shared confused glances. She knew Thomas.

Y/N couldn’t help but grin, “Oh, they couldn’t bear not to have us play for the angels themselves. But here we are instead playing for these hard working men and women, and I think we’ve done a good job filling their hearts with hope again.”

He chuckled, “Fine. Just make sure the Garrison stays busy.”

“As you wish.” Y/N shrugged, her arms complaining as she lifted her violin once again.

Grace stared at her new companion with unveiled wonder, “He lets you talk to him like that?”

Y/N flashed Grace with one of her signature wicked smiles, “We were army buddies.”

“But they don’t allow women to fight.”

“Eh, who says they had to know?”

Grace’s mouth fell open as Y/N started up another song, one that Grace didn’t recognize. But the entirety of the 174th sent up cheers, their glasses raised. 

It was a fast paced one that made it hard to sit still. Y/N braced herself before she began to dance on the small stage, tapping her feet in time with the beat as the 174th began to sing. Their voices rose over the general din. There wasn’t much melody in it, but those men sang from somewhere buried deep inside. It was as if the hope that had carried them through the worst days of hell sprang to life to answer the call of music.

At the edge of the crowd in the shroud of darkness, the barest outline of Thomas Shelby could be seen. Even if he didn’t scream the lyrics along with his brothers in arms, he still sang. It was then that Grace understood why Thomas had been so adamant about there being no music in his pub.

If Grace wanted to truly understand Thomas Shelby she’d have to learn about him not as the gang leader, but as the man who survived the worst part of human history. Who was he before and what had happened with this woman that had changed his life forever? It was a way out, another option that didn’t rely on giving herself to the enemy. Holding onto that hope, Grace closed her eyes and tried to decipher the jumbled lyrics.

〜

Finally the Garrison Pub closed. Grace sat slumped against a table as Harry mopped the floor. Y/N curled up on one of the few benches in the corner. After everything was well and tidied up, Grace got up to leave.

“You coming?” she asked.

Y/N shook her head, “Actually I’m staying upstairs.”

Grace’s brow furrowed, “But...why? I mean your dress was lovely, and you were playing in one of the most expensive places in town. Can’t you afford a better place?”

“This suits me just fine. Besides, you of all people should know that a pretty dress is just a costume; at the end of the day it doesn’t mean nothing.”

Grace froze, “What do you mean?”

Y/N fixed Grace with a tired gaze, “It’s just how it’s always been. You may love rolling around in the dirt, but a bath and pretty dress later no one would ever know.”

She let out a deep sigh of relief but just as she was about to leave Y/N stopped her once more, “Hey, since you’ve been in town longer do you know any good music halls? Operas? Theatres? I’m looking for work that isn’t just on Saturdays”

“Oh, I can’t stand Opera so I wouldn’t know about that. But I think there’s a new place opening up on the other side of the river.” Grace waved dismissively then shut and locked the door behind her.

Y/N slowly stood and finally let herself limp over to the bar and poured herself a drink. She mulled over the possibilities of why the hell Grace was at the opera if she hated it and wasn’t dragged there by family. So far none of the possibilities looked good and it was getting to the point she’d have to tell somebody. 

The wad of money Thomas had shoved at her still burned a hole in her pocket; she hadn’t gotten a chance to return it today. A goal for tomorrow then.

[smol-lyris]

Meet my girl~!

Name: Lyris Alonso

Nicknames: Pipsqueak (given my Finger)

Age: 19

Gender: Female

Birthday: March 7th [Pisces] 

Blood Type: O+

Ethnicity: unknwon

Height: 146cm [4.7ft]

Weight: 39kg [87lbs]

Affiliation: Cassell College

Personality: 

Lyris is a vibrant young girl full of life, always wears a smile and never fails to put a smile on others. 

Almost every person she cared about died (her Black Swan Bay family) or betrayed her (Herzog and Chisei back at the mariana trench) which caused her to have major trust issues, Her defense mechanism was to push away everyone despite her fear of loneliness so they wouldn’t hurt her again, The only person who managed to win back her trust was Chisei.

Chaos or Justice: She will follow the rules, but if necessary, she’s not afraid to break them

Positive Traits: Cutie, Vibrant

Negative Traits: Hot blooded, suspicious

Likes: Dancing, cooking, makeup, puppies, ROASTED SWEET POTATOES

Dislikes: Kimura the basketball guy, bad hair days, feeling lonely and left out, being used, that one death servitor that ate her favorite shoe, 

Hobbies: Dancing, baking sweets.

Class: Soul dancer

Talent Class: S 

EX-Skill: Copying other EX

Voice: Hanazawa Kana

Enemies: Herzog, Bondarev, KIMURA

Neutral: Anjou, Z

Friends: Sakura Yabuki, Chime Gen, 

Good Friends: NoNo, Luminous, Caesar , Finger

Best Friends: Johann, Erii, her Gemini!, Miyuki [OC of @crabby-abby​]

Lover: Chisei Gen

Other:

- Her family had a long history of soul dancers that was gone for hundreds of years until she was born holding the power which her family thought was now just history, Herzog ripped her away from her family for her powers.

- Her Gemini is called “Siryl” which is Lyris’s name backwards

- Siryl has a mind of her own and can get mad when Lyris is wearing something she doesn’t like cuz she’s forced into it

- Accidentally mentioned that Anjou was perfect sugar daddy material while he was right behind her

- Her head is Finger’s favorite armrest (Got kicked in the groin when bringing it up)

- Her favorite colors are purple and pink

- Roasted sweet potatoes are worth dying for

- Loves hugging people and receiving hugs, it makes feel warm and loved

- She tried to carry Chisei’s sword at some point and he was struggling to hold his laughter because the sword was taller than her, he finds it very cute.

- Her real family consisted of her parents and three older brothers, all were killed by Herzog before he took her.

[potterpastawrites]

hhhhhhhhhhhh now that i’ve played Greymoor i am going to infodump about my Daggerfall Covenant Hero for ESO

Name: Alexei “The Spekter” (Soon to be Ravenwatch) Age: 19 at the beginning, 20 during Greymoor Race: Breton (Vampire) Gender: No with a dash of demiboy Sexuality: Pan, Demi Pronouns: They/Them, He/Him but only with permission Appearance:

Story:

Originally from some slum outside Daggerfall, they had a pretty not-good life. They ran away from home at the age of 16 to get away from their dad and try to make their own way in the world. While camping out in the woods, they were attacked by bandits, and killed them in self-defense. The Dark Brotherhood took an interest in them and lured them in with the promise of a family who actually cared about them. There they met Sings-of-the-Void, who was basically their only real friend. When Sings was transferred to the Gold Coast, they became disillusioned with the whole “Family of Darkness” thing. They were offered a contract in Port Hunding, which they accepted. The ship crashed, but they managed to survive and make it ashore. They ended up getting sucked into Captain Kaleen’s pirate scheme, and it was the most fun they’d had in years (and they even got to complete their contract on Captain Helane!) After Port Hunding, Lambur somehow convinced them to help out with the troubles in Betnikh, where they destroyed the relic (No one should have that kind of power) Captain Kaleen reluctantly dropped them off at Daggerfall, where they were accidentally drawn into political schemings because they wanted to pet a cute doggy. It felt nice saving someone for once, so they decided to try and turn their life around. They took up a new title (The Spekter, Hero of Daggerfall), changed their looks, and bribed a contact at the outlaw’s refuge to convince someone with the DB that they had died in the ship wreck on the way to Port Hunding. They would still kill for Sithis, to avoid his Wraiths of Wrath, but no longer would they be the Dark Brotherhood’s puppet. They offered their allegiance to King Casimir, and worked their way across Glenumbra, using their assassination skills for good. They took an immediate dislike to Darien, who for some reason thought it was a good idea to try to bed a random stranger in a city overrun with werewolves. After the finale in Glenumbra, they went to Stormhaven to continue serving, and became one of King Emeric’s favored assets. But it was Rivenspire that had the biggest effect on them. After saving Stormhaven from Vaermina’s plot, they went to Rivenspire at King Emeric’s request. Of course, Darien was there to bother them, but they had to agree with his whole “no talking, pretty lady says sleepy time” after that run in with the bloodfiends. And Count Verandis Ravenwatch just had such a soothing personality, he was so nice, and he said he was proud of them. The good and nice father figure they’d always wanted. They wanted to be someone he was proud of. Meeting House Ravenwatch was the best moment in their life (so far) Everyone was so nice! And helping Adusa counter the Bloodfiend army and the Montclair loyalists made them feel like a good person. It was finally like having a real family, so unlike what the Dark Brotherhood had offered. And it was over in a flash. When Verandis spoke to them at the Doomcrag, and told them of what he had done, the pact with Molag Bal, their heart broke. He teleported them outside before they could protest, and they cried as they told Gwendis what happened. They attended the coronation, of course. They had to. They gave their input, but they were still grieving. They almost had a family, and then it was gone. They slipped out during the celebrations, and ran off to skulk back in Glenumbra. Eventually, they ran into Lyris Titanborn, helped her investigate the Icereach Coven, and saved King Jorunn. They at some point after the Doomcrag became a vampire. They thought about going to House Ravenwatch, but when Lyris contacted them about heading to Western Skyrim to continue the investigation, they knew they had to go. They immediately trusted Fennorian upon meeting him outside Kilkreath, especially when he mentioned being with House Ravenwatch. When they found Exarch Tzinghalis during “The Vampire Scholar” it was just. On Sight. They just rushed in and ripped him to shreds when they saw what he was doing to Fenn. They have nightmares about what they heard and saw. Over the course of Greymoor, they found themself falling for Fennorian, which confused and stressed them.

This will be updated once I finish Greymoor and play Markarth. For now I plan on having them confess their feelings either between Greymoor and Markarth, or at the end of Markarth. Also need to finalize the story of their becoming a vampire.

They are ADHD, Autistic, and struggle with Depression

So far the only people who know their name and not just their titles are: -Verandis Ravenwatch -Adusa-daro -Gwendis -Heloise Menoit -Captain Jenaeve -Fennorian -Svana -Lyris Titanborn (These are also the only ones who currently have permission to use He/Him pronouns for them)