georgeromerosanalcavity

[patrocles]

post-core bands with big orchestral accompanyments , that shit gets me going like my heart has been attached to a car battery

[116archive]

(via ▶︎ North EP | Silent Whale Becomes A° Dream)

[good-advice-ganondorf]

Majora's Mask and what it means to be grown up

(aka my collected analysis of the Legend of Zelda Majora's Mask)

I will say that generally I don't think Termina is purgatory, or a dream, or anything like that. To me, Termina is kind of like a Silent Hill type parallel world, where you face your deepest traumas.

First, the parallels between Majora's Mask, and the child section of Ocarina of Time.

The first dungeon for both games is in a vast wooded area, there are woodland races inhabiting both areas, the Kokiri for Ocarina of Time, and the Deku for Majora's mask. The second dungeon is in a great mountain, inhabited by the Gorons. The third dungeon is in a vast body of water, inhabited by the Zora.

Then, things split. After Jabu Jabu, Link becomes an adult. After Great Bay, there's Ikana Canyon. A land of nothing but Death.

Who caused the death of Ikana? Who else but the king, Igo Du Ikana. Ikana was plunged into disrepair, after Igos started a war with a clan of Ninjas, to receive a powerful artifact, in a great and mysterious temple. Sound familiar? It should, this is exactly what Ganondorf did, after Link was sealed away for seven years. But Ganondorf was successful.

But Ikana isn't completely occupied by the dead, no. Pamela remains, with her father, turned into an undead monster. Much like Sheik, the last Sheikah, who is revealed to be Zelda. And her father? He's never seen, but I'd imagine it would be easy enough for Ganondorf to become king, if the other one was no longer around. From a man, to a corpse.

So, if Ganondorf is a parallel to Igos, and Zelda is a parallel to Pamela, what about Link? He's a little different. I believe that, along with Kafei and Tingle, all three of the transformation masks are a representation of Link, and his feelings towards being forced to grow up.

Tingle is, as we know, a 35 year old man who thinks he's a fairy boy. Similar to how link was a 10 year old boy, who thought he was a fairy boy. I believe Tingle is a reflection of what Link could have been if he never left Kokiri Forest. An adult hylian man, thinking he's a Kokiri.

On the contrary, Kafei is distraught at the idea of becoming a child again. He's weaker, he can't marry his fiancee, and everyone treats him like well, a child, despite his maturity. I believe this is how Link feels after becoming a child again. He used to be a strong adult, and even if he's not as mature as Kafei, he still went through a lot, and knows a lot more about life now. Kafei even reuses Link's model and animations.

There's a reoccurring theme in Ocarina of Time where Link just doesn't belong anywhere he goes. He's an outsider to the other races, because he's a hylian, but he's also an outsider to the hylians, because he was raised as a Kokiri. I think the transformation masks reflect that.

The Deku Butler's Son is what he could have been as a Kokiri. He could have been a happy little boy, living with his father, and his community. But Link and the Deku butler's son both left home to explore, and as far as both the Kokiri and the Deku are concerned, neither came back.

Darmani is what he could have been as a Goron. A powerful hero to the Gorons, celebrated by them for clearing Dodongo's Cavern. A close link between the goron elder, Darunia, and their sons. Both him and Link remain after death, lamenting on their histories as heros.

Mikau is what he could have been as a Zora. Maybe not a cool as hell guitarist, but a husband to Ruto, and Prince of the Zora Who would stop at nothing to keep her happy and safe, like infiltrating a fortress, or climbing inside of a whale.

Even the Fierce Deity is just Link, but back as an adult. As if so much changed so rapidly, he felt like he transformed into something less like himself, and more like a powerful god. He could have continued being strong, and powerful, the defeater of Ganon, but he had to become a child again. He has to stay as a small, and unknown child.

The ages of the masks even match the human life cycle. According to the debug menu (and if you subscribe to the theory that Link and DBS's ages were swapped), DBS is 5, Link is 12, Darmani is 30, Mikau is 78, and, Fierce Deity is 17, likely due to his model being recycled from adult Link's. Link starts the game in the body of a 5 year old, then a 12 year old, then a 30 year old, then a 72 year old, and finally, a God.

We don't exactly know how Link feels. But I can't imagine it would be easy to go from a child, with no concept of death, to be thrust into a position where he's forced to fight and kill an adult man so much stronger than he is. And then everything was just reversed. Like that. As if it never happened. And only Link remembers the impending doom he faced. All he can do is remember Ganondorf's reign. Almost like he's reliving the same few days, again, and again, and again.

[twstfanblog]

~Manhwa AU- A Fairytale Do-Over~ Pt 3

A/N: Writing has been so hard recently and there's no reason for it. Other than making me mad I think >:( But here's the next part! I'm going to start making a taglist for this series, so reply if you want to be added so you'll be alerted to the next part being posted! thank you and have a grand time reading! Word Count: 3.7K Pairings: Sibling Leona & Farena Warnings: Alluded to child neglect Lilia's cooking Prev / Next

A month had passed since Malleus���s birthday and Yuu still refused to accept any of Lilia's requests for playdates.

She sighed, turning the page of a book she remembered never finishing. Her family's personal library had become a small sanctuary for her recently. The magically enlarged room was like a maze; towering dark wood shelves filled with books that were easy to get lost in without a map. A hidden nook close to the three floor-to-ceiling grand windows, the enchanted fireplace crackling peacefully while Yuu or her fathers would rest on overstuffed decorative pillows reading together. The perfect place to run and hide from a very overzealous bat fae who wanted to feed her a ‘home-cooked meal’ to make her feel better enough to come visit the imperial palace. Yuu only needed to glance at the pot of noxious black sludge to be given a traumatic memory of what would happen to someone who ate Lilia's cooking…

While Lilia was more than free to chase her around the manor, her father was quick to stop the fae from running after her into ‘his library’. The family library obviously held the precious books of the Crowley family; Yuu’s favorite playscripts and fairytales, Divus’s historical fashion logs and his various past fashion sketchbooks. Dire even kept a small collection of older spell books in the room, some possibly older than the empire itself. Lilia's cooking could melt the bones of a whale, Yuu was sure of it, divine only knows what it'd do to a poor flimsy book.

So, the library was safe. For now at least. There was no telling where her parents would forbid her from entering in the name of her ‘health’ if they worried anymore.

Her parents continued to grow more and more concerned over her personality shift. They thought she didn’t notice, standing at her bedside in the middle of the night and speaking in hushed tones about what to do. Her papa would sit on her bed and run his hand along one of her braids while he grilled her father on what he was doing to get a mage doctor to their home.

Yuu couldn’t use magic, so she wasn’t entirely sure why her papa thought a mage doctor was needed (Only a few days later did she realize that her papa thought she had been cursed. Which was possibly true, time travel and all…). Dire had managed to deflect each time Divus asked, tucking her tighter into her covers before leaving the room, a silently furious Divus following after him. They’d try to broach the topic during breakfast each morning, asking if she had anymore strange dreams, if something new had appeared in her room, or even if someone had spoken to her.

It didn’t ease their concerns when Yuu denied anything new or strange happening, but Yuu wondered how much they would panic if she said something did happen. While it could potentially be funny, she’s almost completely sure her fathers would put her through an intense magical purge ceremony that would actually make her ill.

Sighing, Yuu closed the book, placing it on her reading nook’s ‘to be continued’ pile. It had been at least an hour since Lilia had shown up to the duchy, her parents had hopefully either sent the old fae home or were having a discussion over wine. Leaving Yuu to freely walk around the library again.

Thumbing through a book on gardening (though the pictures were more interesting than the semi-faded blocks of text), Yuu suddenly felt a chill creep into their spine. Kalim had described the feeling to her once, recounting one of the many tales of failed kidnappings and assassinations; the feeling of being watched.

Yuu did their best to remain calm, following Kalim’s advice. It's no good to let them know you know, act as nonchalantly as you could until you were in a safer location. (A conversation that had originally terrified them, only for Kalim’s beaming smile to promise that no harm would ever befall his dearest friend. Not so long as she had him and Jam-)

Swallowing, Yuu slowly closed the book and started to walk down the aisle. Maybe they were just there to steal something and Yuu had unfortunately been in their line of sight. A notion that was quickly dashed feeling the eyes stay on them and the sounds of footsteps following them. Yuu hates to admit it, but she panicked and broke out into a sprint.

Whoever was following her remained silent, keeping up with her easily through the turns and weaving between aisles. A part of her wanted it to be Lilia, since the worst that could happen was she'd have to have a bite of whatever he brought masquerading as a stew. Then again, that might actually kill them…

Panting, fed up with the sudden game of cat and mouse, Yuu ran around a corner and turned around quickly. The heavy book on plants raised in the air over her head and thrown blindly to whoever was chasing them. A multicolored blur appeared from around the corner, narrowly dodging the book in a sloppy side step. The two children looked at the heavy book on the ground, the thud it made echoing through the library briefly but the true horror was the fact the book had nearly exploded on contact with the ground. Pages of text and a stray beautifully illustrated flower fluttering to the ground in their silence.

The other child stared at the pile of paper that was once a book, blinking in shock before turning to Yuu with a glare and crossed arms, “What, are you trying to kill me?”

Yuu blinks then yells at the boy, poking a finger furiously into his chest, “You were the one chasing me!?”

The boy huffed, rolling his eyes and swatting her hand away, “I was just playing around. You're the one throwing ancient texts at people.”

“It wasn't ancient.” Yuu hoped it wasn't ancient. But, casting a glance at the pile, Yuu wondered if they were stronger than they remembered being as an eight-year-old…

Shaking her head, she brushed off the concern. The book was probably just…very old (please not ancient), her father would be able to replace it easily or fix it, “Anyway! Why are you in here? I've never seen you before.”

The boy raises an eyebrow, almost sneering back at her, “I'm a guest. Why are you scurrying around here like a rat?”

“Like a-I live here, you shithead!”

The boy stepped back, eyes wide in shock either from her yelling or from realizing who she was, “Wait…you're the Crowley girl?”

“What of it? You haven't even introduced yourself to me in my own house!”

Rolling his eyes again, the boy stepped closer to walk a slow circle around her, studying her with a sharp eye, “It's just surprising, ya know? Rumor has it, you're supposed to be sick as death in bed. Not taking any visitors nor going to any of your little friends’ socials.” He smirks, tilting his head, “But instead of seeing some sickly child, I see a little rat who's healthy enough to throw books with deadly force.”

“...” Yuu frowns, nearly sneering at the smug boy, “I'm not going to stand here and listen to some boy in a hand-me-down dashiki-...you're Leona Kingscholar.”

Leona was taken aback, tilting his head, “How do you guess? Other people wear dashikis, you know…”

Yuu nodded, but pointed to various areas of the garment as she spoke, “Yeah, but very few have actual gold embroidery on them. not to mention the overall state of it; it's faded but only in high friction areas. Meaning it was for casual wear instead of formal seeing, again, the authentic gold threading. And the sleeves's been stitched up, not professionally since it's affected the appearance of the pattern. It's not concrete, but that's normally a sign of sentimental value since it's merely to keep the fabric intact instead of presentable to the public.”

“...” Leona sighed, crossing his arms as he looked off to the side annoyed, “And that clearly shows you're the child of Duke Crewel. Only someone with his textile-obsessed blood would deduce me as a Kingscholar from my clothing rather than being a lion beastman…”

“Who else would I be? Though my parents love each other, they aren't having another baby anytime soon. Plus, I'm already an only child…”

Leona coughed, struggling to hold in his laughter before clearing his throat to speak, “I assumed you were Duke Crowley's oh-so-elusive student I've heard the adults whispering About. Many of them were pretty pissed after learning their darling little brownnosers weren't going to get access to your family's private collection of ancient grimoires.”

Yuu's face pinched together, eyes scanning along the floor as she dug through her mind. Just like a normal dream, her past life had quickly started to fade from her memory as the weeks went on. Anything past her 12th birthday had become hidden in fog though anything before then was slightly clearer. But even so, she had no memory of her father having a student of any kind. In fact she's not even sure her parents allowed other children in their manor besides her, she couldn't remember ever hosting a playdate at the Crowley duchy at least…

“My…my father doesn't have a student? At least I've never met them…”

“...” Leona hums, short and absolute, as though he had gained a piece of a puzzle no one else had noticed on the table yet. Yuu watched in real-time as Leona made the mental decision to keep said piece to himself.

The beastman smiles, his ears flicking only once in what could only be excitement, “Interesting…oh well. It's only a rumor after all.”

Yuu rolls her eyes. From memory, Leona did have a bad reputation as a troublemaker, “Fun. You still haven't told me why you're in my house though. I'm pretty sure the Kingscholar duchy is to the east of the capital, not the north.”

Leona shrugs, fingers gliding over ornate spines of books before he pulls his hand away, making a face when it comes back covered in dust, “My brother is getting a measurement done. He brought me along claiming I could be fitted for my coming-of-age robes if there was time.”

“...But your 10th birthday has already passed, hasn't it? You should have had them by now.”

“...” Sighing, the beastman clicked his tongue in a moment of annoyance, “Shut up. You don't even know anything…”

Yuu tapped her chin, thinking hard about what she could remember of the Sunset Savanna clothing culture, “You're supposed to get them on your tenth birthday, As a rite of passage right? Thanking the gods for allowing you into your first stage of life or something like that…” Lord, just how much knowledge about clothing did she have at this age? It was hard to tell what were bits and pieces from her past life and what was simply drilled into her young by her papa.

Leona was quiet, looking away from Yuu's curious expression, “It's a ceremony of blessings. In the Savanna, once a child reaches ten, it's thought a number of bad omens aren't able to take hold of them anymore. But that also leaves them vulnerable to omens that plague adults. So either the community chief or head of the house is supposed to anoint them; bring them the blessing and protection of their family or community's ancestors…”

Yuu nods, Dire had talked about the ceremony once or twice, having barged in during one of her lessons with Divus to deliver unasked-for information, “Your father is the heir to the Sunset Savanna kingdom, but he stays near the Noctorn capital to build alliances. As the Savanna prince, he'd be liable to use the family sword to-”

…

Yuu paused in her stream of conscious babble. The ceremony could use a number of items to bless the child so to speak. Her father had told her of a number of ways he had personally bore witness to; an elderly woman shaking a branch over children, fine gold dust being spread on cheeks in patterns, even fresh spring water being poured over their heads and clothes.

But the Kingscholars, the Kingscholars used a sword. Tapping the unsheathed blade along the shoulders and then once against the forehead.

Looking at Leona, she finally noticed that one side of his bangs were longer. Dark brown waves that framed against a eye that was a shade lighter than the other, slightly hiding the clean vertical line of raised dark pink skin.

“...” Yuu bit her lip, wondering…if she should ask, “...Leona…how'd you get that scar?”

Leona stared at the floor, gently pressing a claw down the still-sensitive skin.

Leona sat beside a vent in the hallway, legs pulled up to his chin and arms wrapped around them. He was looking down to the ground, eyes unblinking as he listened to his father rant and yell.

“-utter embarrassment! And you want to reward another one of his tantrums!?”

Farena’s voice rings out, softer yet still carrying the hard edge his father's had, “I'm not rewarding him. I'm taking him with me to my appointment with the Duke Crewel. Leona's only getting a fitting if there's time-”

“You don't need that design book then! That mutt of a duke doesn't need it because he isn't making traditional garments. Especially not for that-”

“Enough!” Leona could hear the snarl in his brother's voice, clearly able to imagine the fury on the face that matched their father better than his ever did, “Just because you're upset Lord Lilia hasn't responded to your letters yet, doesn't mean Leona is at fault! I refuse to let you place it on him just because he acted out on the prince's birthday!”

“BAH! So you admit it! He's acting out and you're-”

“I'm giving Leona his due! You know damn well he was supposed to have his ceremonial dressings last year. You were supposed to send for someone from the homeland to fit him properly! You were supposed to bless him! You go on and on about how back home we are kings and not dukes and should act as such, and then you treat your own son like he's less!”

“He is LESS! Sickly! Defiant! Brazen! He's been weak and less than since the day he was born!”

“...How…DARE YOU!? Don't you dare blame that fever on Leona! He only got sick because you forbade the physician from tending to him when he got hurt! He may fully lose his sight in his eye because you wanted to punish him!”

“He should have never touched that sword! That is for the heir or head of the house! The true princes of our family line, he had no right to touch it!”

“We are all the princes of this family. Grandmother rules the Savanna in your place while you continue to make fancy with dead royalty you never even liked.” The rustling of papers, a flourish of fabric, “I'm leaving for my appointment, I'm taking Leona with me and that is final.”

It was soft, angrily and bitterly mumbled as Farena stomped out of the room. The sound of his father's liquor cabinet opening, the older man muttering, “Leave him there while you're at it.” 

The sound of Farena slamming the door made his ears hurt.

And that's how his brother finds him, back against a wall with his eyes pressed into his knees and arms to hide away his tears. Farena sighs, kneeling down and putting a hand to his shoulder, “Leona-”

Leona quickly shrugged his brother’s hand away, moving to stand on his own and rubbing harshly at his eyes, “I don’t want your pity, Farena-”

He was pulled into his brother’s arms, the older prince breathing calmly in an effort to center Leona and himself. Farena pulls away once he feels Leona untense his body, smiling and brushing the younger boy’s hair from his face, “It’s not pity…No matter what we become to each other. Know that I never pitied you…”

“...” With a final sniffle, Leona rubbed his eyes one last time before he nods, “Okay…”

“Come. We have to leave if we’re going to have time for you to get your fitting.”

“...It was an accident.”

As though that wasn't the most heartbreaking and concerning thing Yuu had ever heard. But Yuu wasn't going pick at an already tender wound, “I see…what…what was the Sunset Savanna like? There’s a lot of various areas like deserts and jungles, right? Was it fun exploring there?”

“I wouldn't know. In theory, I know what it's like there but I've never been, I was born here.”

“Oh!?”

Leona nods, “My brother remembers moving though, he's told me stories and every now and again we get visitors or refugees coming to our duchy.”

Yuu hummed, looking down the aisle, “I think we have a book on the Savanna somewhere…” She waved Leona away, “There should be a table with snacks around. Wait for me there while I go get it.”

“Don't you order me around…”

She was already walking away, looking over her shoulder with a glare, “Just go eat some snacks while I go find the book.”

Finding the book wasn't too hard. The library was normally organized weekly, though even then random books would appear in the wrong place. Luckily, Yuu was able to find the book of their desire easily. Pulling it off the shelf they nearly fell to the floor at the sheer weight of it. Huffing, maneuvering it in their arms to rush off to her and Leona's meeting spot.

The other young lord was luckily seated at the table, picking at the selection of cookies and other finger foods left out. He looks over, snickering at seeing just how much she was struggling, “Poor, sickly, Yuu. Even a book is too much for the grand lady now…”

Yuu glared over the large book, managing to haul it with her onto the stool before dropping the book on the table and releasing a cloud of dust. Her expression turns malicious as Leona starts hacking and coughing, sending more dust in his direction as she opens the book and lets the heavy pages fall to the table.

Leona waves the dust away from his sensitive nose, glaring through his teary eyes as he sneezed again, “Brat.”

“Bastard. Your family is the reigning line, isn't it? So you'd have stayed in the capital, right?”

For the next hour, the two spent their time looking through the book, Yuu asking him questions for a more in-depth look at the foreign land. And while Leona had never been to his homeland, he still knew more than Yuu and was more than elated to lecture the younger girl on what she had gotten wrong.

Soon, Leona could hear his brother calling out to him in the distance. He looks to Yuu, tugging on her hair to gain her attention, “I’ve got to go, my brother is calling me.”

Yuu nods, closing the book and holding it out to Leona, “Here. You can take this home with you.”

“Why are you giving me one of your books?” Leona still takes the book, tucking the hardcover under his arm and looking at Yuu in question.

Shaking her head, Yuu smiled, “Not giving it to you. It’s a loan. So you’ll have to come visit me again.”

“...” Leona laughs, short and behind his hand before returning Yuu’s smile, “Deal. I’ll come visit again since you clearly need someone to ramble to. I’ll bring the book back when I feel like it.” He ruffles Yuu’s hair roughly, making the younger girl almost fall over from the force of it.

“HEY!” Yuu smacks at Leona’s hand, pouting as the beastman runs out of the library to meet his brother. She sighs, trying to smooth down her hair lest her papa see her with her hair in disarray.

Leona Kingscholar was a troublemaker, that was the common trait anyone could give him. She remembered bits and pieces of her fathers talking about the young lord, each of them remarking what a shame it was. Leona wasn’t as physically strong as the rest of his family, but the younger lord was smarter, a fact his father always overlooked in favor of his older brother. Yuu couldn’t remember the two brothers ever having a negative relationship. Then again, she remembers one of the Kingscholar brothers leaving with their father back to the Sunset Savanna when the queen mother is on her deathbed. Sadly, she couldn’t remember which went.

If anything, Leona would be a good person to talk to if she went along with her plan. Breaking ties with Malleus was impossible, but her other two playmates would be easy enough, though it would be painful. And while it had only been a few weeks, things settled well enough. Malleus didn’t ever send her letters anyway, she would simply stop sending him letters. The hardest part would be breaking her friendship with Kalim and running from Lilia’s visits.

Leona wasn’t meant to be a replacement in any way. The youngest Kingscholar was almost isolated from others because of his abrasive attitude a trait Yuu unknowingly shared. Even if they didn’t become anything more than library friends, they’d at least have each other to speak to this time around.

Leona looked out the window of the moving carriage, the borrowed book resting in his lap while his brother rambled on.

“-weirdly thorough. I had thought we’d have more time for your fitting, but it wasn’t in the cards this visit. I did leave the book of designs with Duke Crewel, though. So when I go back for my second fitting, I’ll make sure you can see him.” Farena looks over, frowning as Leona doesn’t respond to him. Sighing, he tugged on his little brother’s ear to gain his attention, “How about we go out for lunch? We don’t need to head home just yet.”

“...” Leona’s eyes glance down at the book on his lap, smirking as he looked up to his brother, “I met a ghost in the Crowley library.” “You what?"

You made it! Have some art I did of the babies and their outfits in this chapter

[torukmaktoskxawng]

'anla - part three

Series Masterlist

Summary: A race against time and the problem with having a large family.

Pairing: Ao'nung/Fem!Na'vi!Sully Reader

Warnings: Mature language, time skips, strict parents, blood/gore, HEAVY angst, death, canon typical violence, canon compliance, slow burn, etc.

Word Count: 5k+

Tag: #'anla ao'nung fic

Na'vi Words: tulkun - whale like animal, ilu - dolphin/plesiosaur like animal, ikran - Mountain Banshee, kuru - queue braid, tanhì - bioluminescent freckle, tsurak - skimwing, ionar - riding visor, tsaheylu - bond, matxe'lan - my heart

posted on ao3

Taglist (red indicates "could not tag"): @aonungmyaddiction @lv9su @aisselasstuff @yourusername1 @amortencjja @king-julian6201 @gg-trini @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @mikeyswifie

A/N: I'm only tagging those who specifically asked to be tagged as of rn. If you don't see your user in the taglist and you want to be added, please lemme know. Also, please reread part two before reading this. Thank you!

It was a dream turned into a nightmare. For a split second, Y/n wanted to drag Ao'nung by the hand and demand he takes her back to the Spirit Tree if it meant she could have one more minute of peace. The intrusive thought, however, immediately vanished when the Omatikaya girl finds herself gently holding a crying Tsireya while the entire village becomes an uproar of war cries all around them. Ronal is demanding justice for the murder of her Spirit Sister and calf, her eyes swimming with grief and anger as she mentioned the ones responsible for this crime.

The Sky People were here.

Y/n looks around, spotting her family among the crowd. In his hands, Neteyam held a long and red metal object, equipped with a sharp tip and light. Beside him, Jake is trying to calm the people, begging them to stop and think. Neytiri silently watches, a haunted look of recognition in her eyes as if she had seen all of this before. Kiri held onto her mother's shoulder as a comfort for both of them and Lo'ak, alone, stood small and quiet among the crowd while Tuk is nowhere to be found.

Her father continued to plead with the Metkayina people while Y/n drowned his voice out. She, too, had heard it all before and instead focused more on Tsireya, the reef girl shaking in fear, her innocence in question aside from what the villagers decided to do. Kiri had vanished from the crowd, likely off to find Tuk with danger so close to their new home, making a sickly feeling form in Y/n's stomach.

It only worsened when Jake took the red object, the tracker, from Neteyam's hands and held it out to the crowd, hushing them as he spoke, "You tell the tulkun that if they're hit with this, they're marked for death. And call for me, I'll silence it. Saving their lives, that's all that matters. Right? Saving your family."

Tonowari and Ronal exchange a silent conversation with their eyes alone, before turning to their people, "Tell the tulkun."

"Go. Go!"

The Metkayina scatter, and through the chaos, Tsireya turned to Y/n, eyes widening in a horrifying realization, "Lo'ak--"

"I know," determination fills Y/n's lungs as she grabbed Tsireya's arm and pulled her along, "Let's go."

The girls sprinted toward the docks, asking around for their friends as they went. Eventually, they spot two teenage boys. Not the ones Y/n was particularly looking for, but ones that Tsireya reached for in her panic, "Ao'nung, Rotxo, have you seen Lo'ak?"

"No." Rotxo paused, looking between the two girls, "What is going on?"

Y/n's walk begins to pick up, a scowl permanent on her face, "Take a guess."

She takes off down the walkways, heading toward the hut holding the ilu harnesses, not caring if the others followed her or not. Tsireya and Ao'nung take off after her with Rotxo in tow, all four of the teenagers making their way to the edge of the village. Y/n is the first one there and the first one to spot both of her brothers arguing until they spotted her.

"Lo'ak! 'Teyam!" She called out.

Lo'ak's head whipped around to spot her, Neteyam a little slower to react as Lo'ak begins to back away, pulling his arm out of his big brother's hold, "Get off me--"

Tsireya and the others catch up to Y/n and try to reach out, "Lo'ak!"

"Lo'ak!"

"Come back!"

He doesn't answer the reef girl or his brother and dives into the water below without another word, quickly disappearing into the deep with his ilu. Neteyam turned to the other teens, thumping Ao'nung's chest as he passed him, "Come on! He's going to Payakan!"

Neteyam claps his hands and makes various different calls to summon a ride of his own. The others call for nearby ilu, expertly diving into the water as they all follow suit, in sync and in formation like they have done in recent hunting parties. The ilu fly through the water, jumping out and back in through the waves, picking up speed and desperate to get to Lo'ak as he pushes through far ahead of them.

"Lo'ak! Come back!" Tsireya called up to him in between jumping up through the water before diving back down.

At one point, Kiri with Little Tuk had joined in the race as well, following after their friends and their siblings, confused by the urgency. Soon enough, the group was beyond the reef, close to Three Brothers Rocks when Lo'ak had eventually slowed his ilu, calling out for his Spirit Brother. Payakan had responded, though his calls were not one of joy or greeting. The poor tulkun sounded as though he was in pain. When Lo'ak asked what was wrong, the bull turned until the Na'vi boy noticed the bright red tracker piercing his flesh.

"Shit!" Lo'ak exclaimed while jumping onto Payakan's fin and then climbing onto his back, signing to his Spirit Brother to stay calm.

The rest of the group had caught up to Lo'ak and immediately clocked the situation, all eyes turning when they heard the sound of rotor blades. A demon ship was slowly coming out of hiding from behind the large rock cliffs peeking out of the sea, drifting over to the children and tulkun menacingly. Taking action, Neteyam and Y/n hop off their ilu and climb onto Payakan's back, lifting Tsireya and Ao'nung out of the water to help Lo'ak pull the tracker out of the injured tulkun. Everyone tried pushing and pulling the pinger out, together, with all their might as Lo'ak quickly called in their location to Jake. Neteyam eventually got an idea and used a rope to latch onto the saddle of his ilu, throwing the other end to Ao'nung after shouting his name so the reef boy could tie it to the embedded tracker. 

Ao'nung successfully knots the rope around the red pinger, encouraging Neteyam to pull, "Go, go, go!"

"Pull! Now!" Neteyam demands as he orders his ilu to swim, the strain of the rope tightening as the ilu struggles with all its might, flapping its fins in the water.

"Everybody! Together!"

"Pull!"

Rotxo and Lo'ak pull at the very end of the tracker, while Ao'nung tries pulling at the rope now attached to it. Tsireya tries pushing it out with her foot while Y/n takes both hands and grips tightly onto the base of the needle that stuck out of Payakan's flesh, pulling that with all her might. 

"Pull! Harder!"

"Pull!"

Y/n was the first to feel the tracker loosen and eventually, the pinger releases its grip on Payakan and the force of the rope threw all the teenagers into the water, each of them shouting in surprise as they splash into the sea.

"It's out! Kiri! It's out!"

"Go. Tuk, go!"

"Go! Everybody!"

"Go on, get out of here!"

They don't take time to revel in their small victory. Panicked on borrowed time, the kids immediately swim to their mounts and round each other up. Lo'ak instructs Payakan to dive and get as far away as possible while the others were screaming to one another to hurry up, the demon ship nearly upon them.

Chaos erupted after that. The children were forced to split up after Neteyam took the tracker to draw the Sky People away from the others. Depth charges were tossed into the water, exploding on impact and confusing the children, rattling their teeth and ringing their ears. Neteyam had a couple of close calls but was at least able to stay attached to his ilu as he ditched the tracker, letting it sink to the bottom of the reef. By the time he had lost the Sky People, he looked around and realized that he had been completely separated from his siblings.

Meanwhile, the other Sully children and the Metkayina trio were hiding underwater with their ilu among a forest of gigantic seaweed as they were being pursued by the Sky People's crab suits and submersibles. Weaving through the kelp and trying to keep a safe distance, the children urge their mounts to swim away, the sweet creatures clicking to one another in distress. 

At one point, Y/n loses sight of half of the group as she maneuvers her way through a thicket of seaweed while being pursued by a crab suit, long claws stretching out to try and grab her. She dodges and weaves expertly, her thighs clenching tightly around the saddle of her ilu with the muscle memory of an ikran rider. Her stomach clenches once and Y/n noted that she would need air soon after hiding down here and holding her breath for so long. She needed to lose the demon crab, the others were no longer her priority until she can shake her pursuer. Out of the corner of her eye, Y/n caught sight of another demon crab searching through the seaweed, unbeknownst to her presence. Thinking fast, she sharply turns her ilu and frantically swims over, the crab that had been chasing her still right on her tail. With speed and the element of surprise, Y/n ambushed the unsuspecting crab suit and swiftly swims over it, causing both crabs to crash into one another in pursuit of her. Y/n beams smugly while looking over her shoulder, happily watching the way the machines struggled and quickly forget about her before slowing her swim, looking around in search of the others.

She catches sight of Kiri and turns toward the direction she spotted her sister, ordering her ilu to leave after disconnecting her queue braid. Y/n followed Kiri after she noticed Rotxo and Ao'nung with her. The three others caught sight of Y/n and even look relieved, waving her over and signing for her to follow them for air. Ao'nung takes the lead, swimming ahead, without an ilu, as he finds an underwater pod, swimming up into the center of the blooming flower for a pocket of air. Rotxo has the Omatikaya girls swim ahead of him, letting them swim up after Ao'nung, who grabs Kiri's arm first to bring her up for air, then Y/n. All four teens gather snugly together in that small pocket of air, taking their breaths while Kiri looked around frantically.

"Where is Tuk? Did you see her?"

Y/n's eyes widen, "You mean she's not with you?"

"She had fallen off, but I don't think the Sky People noticed. They were too busy with us."

"I think we lost them," Ao'nung stated.

"What do we do?" Rotxo asked.

Kiri's pupils shrunk and grew rapidly through her panic, "We can't stay here. We gotta find the others. Any of you see Lo'ak and Tsireya?"

"No. It all happened so fast--"

"We find Tuk first," Y/n exclaims, ears pinned back and staring them all down with authority, "She's all alone, then we find the others."

"What about Mom and Dad?" Kiri questioned her older sister.

"Lo'ak called it in. They're on their way, likely with an army. 'Teyam drove the demon ship away, leaving us with whatever is left of their subs," her face suddenly splits with a twinkling, uplifting grin, "I already damaged two. You guys need to catch up."

Kiri rolled her eyes but let out a huff of air resembling a short bout of laughter, her adrenaline appreciating the small bit of humor Y/n tried to break through the tension. Looking around at the other three, Y/n raised her eyebrows, "We ready?"

Ao'nung nodded then turned to his friend, "Rotxo, you go first. I'll stay in the back, in case we need to grab them and swim out of there fast."

Kiri and Y/n exchange a look but say nothing, both internally shocked that Ao'nung didn't take the time to make a 'bad divers' comment while Rotxo just nods, "Right."

He takes a long, practiced breath and sinks back down into the water. Y/n expands her stomach as she takes a deep breath and holds it, following Rotxo as her arms and legs push and pull her through the water. Kiri is not far behind and Ao'nung follows suit, the teenagers carefully looking around, cautious for signs of danger. Rotxo led them all back the way they came in search of Tuk, but the longer they swam, the more things looked unfamiliar. He had turned to swim backward while signing to the others following closely behind him, 'We should have seen her by now.'

Y/n briefly grabs Kiri's shoulder before signing, 'No Sky People either. Maybe we should--'

Throat grunts echo behind her, Y/n's ears perking up at the sound as she spins around. Ao'nung was frantically clicking to grab their attention, pushing Kiri forward as he quickly motions, 'Demon!'

A small submersible appears from behind the large seaweed, bright searchlights blinding the Na'vi children as it spots them. Ao'nung continues to shove the girls forward until they pick up enough energy to swim away, trying to lose the sub around a large coral reef at the edge of the kelp forest. They swim close to the wall of the reef, all the while the sub maintained speed. In her determination to get away, Y/n lost sight of Kiri for a moment only to realize too late that her adopted sister had hung back. Y/n mewls deep in her throat as a way of screaming a warning, stopping and trying to turn around to go back for Kiri, but Ao'nung was suddenly there and he was using his powerful legs and tail to push Y/n in the opposite direction. Y/n tries to struggle but remembered to slow her heartbeat when she realized her thrashing was draining her of oxygen. Looking around for Kiri, all three turned back and notice the girl had attached her kuru braid to a nearby daisy anemone, watching the large plant-like sea creature move and grow out its long tentacle entrapments at her command. 

The submersible arrives and is unaware of the trap until Kiri uses both of her arms' movements to mimic a push as if she was forcing someone off of her. The command is clear as the anemone reaches out, grabbing hold of the sub and completely encasing it with its tentacles. Kiri then uses one arm to mimic smashing something to the side of her, then the anemone pulls the sub in, smashing it against the side of the reef, squeezing the sub until the glass shatters and collapses within itself. When the sky demons within the sub try escaping out the hatch, Kiri makes a motion mimicking the way she would squeeze fruit for a fun and juicy treat as a child, only she made this motion with a menacing glare. The tentacles completely surround the Sky People, swallowing them whole and squeezing them to death. Kiri lowers her arms, satisfied even as her tanhì flickers up and down her entire body.

Ao'nung and Rotxo look at each other, amazed, confused, and a little freaked out. Y/n was used to her sister's... strange abilities and instead tried focusing on holding her breath. She had been underwater for far too long. Ao'nung and Rotxo were just fine and Kiri was strangely accustomed to holding her breath just as long as a Metkayina could, even without training, leaving Y/n to be the only one who was starting to struggle. Her lungs and stomach clenched and constrict, begging for air. Y/n's hands rise to her mouth and nose, forcing them to stay closed as she tries not to panic and keep her heart steady. Black spots started to dot her vision when she looked up to the surface, catching the sun rays peeking through the water.

Y/n grunts deep in her throat to get the others' attention. Kiri and the boys all turn and she frantically signed, 'Need to breathe.'

Kiri swims forward, gesturing with her hands, 'We can't wait for it to be safe. Need to go up.'

Ao'nung and Rotxo move then, taking Kiri's orders when she told them to bring Y/n up to the surface, 'I'll be right behind you.'

Ao'nung took one of Y/n's arms and Rotxo took the other. Together they use their speed to swim the forest girl up to the surface. The moment she felt air on her face, Y/n gasped for breath, sputtering and coughing with whatever water she had accidentally inhaled. Rotxo had let go of Y/n's arm and Kiri emerged, taking deep, more steady breaths. If she had taken the time to notice through her panicked breathing, Y/n would have noted the firm hold Ao'nung still had on her other arm.

The teens form a circle as they breathe but are not spared a moment of peace. The silence should have been a warning before an ikran, armed in Sky People gear and sporting a Recom for its rider, swooped down out of nowhere, wrapping its talons around Kiri's arms and plucking her out of the water like she weighed nothing. 

Kiri screamed, kicking the air as she struggled, "LET ME GO! NO! SISTER, HELP!"

"KIRI!" Y/n screams, staring up and watching in horror as the ikran takes her sister away. Once she realized the banshee was taking Kiri to the demon ship, Y/n immediately began to swim. Her limbs, however, protested. Her arms were heavy and her lungs spasmed, everything begging her to rest even through her determination to go after her sister.

"No!" Ao'nung grips Y/n's elbow a little tighter. She spun back to hiss at him, but noticed the way his entire hand was able to wrap around her whole arm and found it pointless as he continued, "You'll be faster on your ikran. Let's go home and bring back reinforcements."

"No, no, no, I can't. I have to find Tuk!" Y/n exclaims, now allowing her panic to sink in at the idea of all of her siblings separated from one another, "I have to get Kiri back and find Tuk! I have to find Lo'ak and Neteyam--"

"Y/n." She paused at the sound of her name, turning back to the reef boy holding her. Ao'nung makes sure she's looking him in the eyes as he nods encouragingly, "They'll be fine. Look."

He turns his head and Y/n follows his gaze, her yellow eyes widening by what she saw. Fire, for one, lining along the ocean's surface, and a battlefield between the Na'vi and the Sky People. Boats and gunfire ring out against tsurak and Metkayina spears. It was an all-out war, and Y/n couldn't find herself looking away from it.

Ao'nung does, however. Moving his hand up from her elbow to grab her shoulder instead, pulling her gaze back to him, "Our fathers are driving them back. We can use this to buy time to get whoever is left at the village. Come on, Forest Girl. You need your ikran."

He knew -and she did, too- that Y/n stood a better fighting chance in her element, upon her own mount and using her own weapons. Even so, her stomach drops, dread filling her heart at the idea of her brothers and sisters among all that death and destruction. She wasn't sure if she had the willpower to run back now, and somehow, she managed to say it with her eyes alone without ever speaking a word.

And somehow, Ao'nung heard her. She watches his eyes as he reads something written on her face before a decision was made. Ao'nung expression of reassurance melts into something determined, nodding sternly at her as he calls and clicks with his tongue, summoning an ilu.

Rotxo does the same, confused and unsure what decision had been made, and two ilu emerge from the depths. Without a word, the boys climb onto the backs and Ao'nung drags an exhausted Y/n to sit behind him, making sure her hands were secure around his waist before internally ordering the ilu to dive. Y/n hangs on for dear life, taking another deep breath as they submerge underwater. She pressed her whole front against Ao'nung, afraid that she wouldn't have the strength to hold on otherwise, and the warmth radiating along his back was the smallest bit of reassurance she didn't realize she needed.

The swim back to Awa'atlu was longer than she remembered. Eventually, she had to pat Ao'nung's stomach to let him know she needed air. They resurface just outside the large atoll seawall. Without even looking for the village beyond the wall, Y/n remembered to breathe and her first exhale was a shout. She mimicked a bird call, shouting at the top of her lungs as she, Ao'nung, and Rotxo swim through the tunnels of the weaving atoll. Y/n kept yipping and calling out until finally she received an answer. A screech rings out and slowly a large form flies over the treetops behind the Metkayina village, flying over open water and toward the teenagers. 

Hope floods Y/n's chest at the sight of her loyal friend flying toward her. She smiles briefly, sitting up straighter in the ilu saddle as she squeezes Ao'nung's shoulder, "Don't wait up for me, Seaweed Brain."

Ao'nung smirked at her from over his shoulder, "Honestly, Forest Girl? That's all you have to say? Why not 'Thank you, Ao'nung' or 'Be safe, Ao'nung'?"

"Who's Ao'nung?" She grinned back as the shadow of her ikran looms overhead, "I only see you."

Both of them had frozen at her words, eyes widening at one another, the only sound between them being the squeaking ilu, clapping its fins in response to whatever emotions were going through the bond between the creature and Ao'nung. Thankfully, Y/n didn't have to backtrack or rephrase her words as her ikran decided to drop in at the perfect time. Talons out as she dove forward, the ikran screeches again, breaking the awkward air around the teens. The spell breaks and Y/n looks up, holding her hand out just in time as she grabs hold of her banshee's open talon. The ikran bats her wings as hard as she could, banking up high in the air and completely pulling Y/n out of the water. Ao'nung and Rotxo watch the display in amazement, necks craning up with eyes wide and jaws dropped. Y/n pulls herself up and climbs onto the back of her mount, finding her ionar in its respectful saddle pouch and slipping them over her eyes before completing the tsaheylu. 

"Good timing, Evi," Y/n whispered to her ikran, patting the mighty beast's neck, "Thank you."

~~~~~~~~~

The sky was dark as eclipse rolls around, the fires from prior explosives the only thing lighting up the war zone. It was like a waking nightmare for Jake Sully, watching a small group of teenagers come rolling onto the shore of the rock face he had landed on. Quickly, he noticed something was wrong, running over as Lo'ak waved him down.

"Dad! Dad, help! It's Neteyam!"

Tsireya briefly closes her eyes as a harsh wave smacks her in the face, ears drooping when listening to the sounds of Neteyam's coughs. He was weak, short of breath even through her lessons on how he could take large gulps of air for deep diving. It scared her, "Hurry!"

Lo'ak peers back at his brother before sinking into the water, dismounting his ilu and handing his brother to Tsireya, "Here, take him!"

"Oh, no," Jake gasped as he took in the horrific sight of the half-drowned kids trying to pull his wounded firstborn to shore, blood pouring from his chest like the water he was floating in.

Lo'ak keeps repeating the same words through his fear, "It's Neteyam! He's hurt!"

Spider, the only human among them, reaches out for Toruk Makto's arm as he grasps Neteyam's body, "Jake, come on! Come on!"

"Hurry, please!" Lo'ak begs.

Jake finally snaps out of his daze and grabs Spider's arm, trying to help drag all the connected teenagers to shore, "Pull!"

"Bro, watch his head, watch his head!" Lo'ak instructs Spider, panic set in as he watches Neteyam's eyes begin to roll back, the older boy still coughing and otherwise unaware of his surroundings. 

"Pull! Come on!" Jake grunts, finally managing to get all the kids out of the water. He grabs Neteyam's torso, lifting him in the air while Lo'ak and Spider have his sides and Tsireya has his legs. Jake has them bring Neteyam to more solid ground before lowering him, "Just watch his head. Okay--" 

Neteyam shallowly breathes, unable to suck in more air as Lo'ak grasps one of his hands, squeezing hard in comfort, "It's okay, bro. We got you."

Jake pushes Neteyam onto his side, immediately clocking the exit wound bleeding profusely with the help of Spider's flashlight, "Oh, no," looking around, frantic, he instead grabs Lo'ak's hands and presses it harshly against Neteyam's bleeding chest, "Put pressure-- put pressure on it!" 

Neteyam stifles a grunt at the pressure against his chest, trying to get a word out, "Dad, I--"

"It's okay, I'm here!"

Neytiri lands her ikran when she spotted a few members of her family, barely pulling her braid from her mount before running over to the scene, muttering in fear and denial, "No, no, no, no, no!"

"It's okay. It's okay, son, I gotcha." Jake comforted.

Lo'ak tries the same, "It's okay..."

"Dad, where's Y/n?" Neteyam's eyes wildly looked around, unfocused and frightened.

"I don't-- I-- I don't--"

"Where's Y/n?"

"We'll find her, son, we'll find her--"

"--Is she alright?"

It was like his son couldn't hear him, the shock setting Neteyam into panic mode as Jake tries to firmly reassure him, "Neteyam--"

"Is she alright?"

"She's gonna be fine, boy. She'll be here soon."

"More... Tell her-- tell her-- 'find more.'"

"Alright, alright, I will."

Neteyam briefly looked relieved before tears started to brim in his eyes. Just this once, he allows himself to be a little boy again, tearful and sad, "I want to go home..." he grunts out before gasping rapidly, the words exhausting him.

Jake's voice quivers, holding his son's shoulder, "I know. I know. It's okay, we're goin' home. We're goin' home." 

He softens his voice, pushing the desperation away to try and calm his son, as if he was still an infant he was soothing to sleep, "We're going home. It's okay, it's okay."

"Dad, I..."

~~~~~~~~~

The battle was already starting to disperse when Y/n finally arrived, flying in on her ikran. She had spotted a few stranded Sky People and made quick work of them before they got any ideas, taking her bow and arrows from their places attached to Evi's saddle. Like her mother, Y/n didn't miss and continued onward without ever even watching the bodies drop.

It was almost too quiet for her liking, with only the beat of an ikran's wings to keep her company. Searching around and wishing she had a throat mic to contact her family for their location, Y/n's heart sank when she couldn't find the demon ship, wondering if it had left or if something worse had happened to it. Did it sink? If it sank, then they won. But where was Kiri if she was meant to be on that ship? Where are Tuk and Y/n's brothers? Where are her parents?

Her questions are answered when a geyser sprays out of the water, rocketing almost high enough to hit Y/n. Evi squawks as she evades the water spray and Y/n looks down, spotting Payakan below, unharmed. Flying like a vulture in circles so she can get a better look at the tulkun, Y/n's eyes squint as she catches sight of a small ring of blue bodies, drifting over the top of Payakan's only pectoral fin. Gasping in shock, Y/n orders her ikran to dive, pulling her smaller body closer to Evi's as they fall. Once close enough to the water, Y/n suddenly asks Evi to pull up, and as the ikran lifts its wings to catch the air and slow her descent, Y/n holds her breath and breaks her bond with her banshee, diving into the water. She immediately swims back up to the surface and paddles over to the tulkun, where she had seen the group of blue bodies.

"MOM! DAD!"

Jake's ears perk up as he pulls away from the family embrace, and hurriedly looks around until he spots a familiar figure in the water. He wheezes in pain because of his injuries, but he lifts his arm and frantically waves, "Y/n!"

Neytiri follows her mate's gaze and nearly sobs in relief, crying and smiling all at once, "Y/n, matxe'lan! Matxe'lan!"

Lo'ak, Kiri, and Tuk also chime in, relieved and excited to see their big sister, alive and well, "Y/n!"

"Y/N!"

"Sister!"

Y/n is crying and shaking in relief as she finally reaches her family, both her mother and father pulling her up onto Payakan's fin when she couldn't find the strength to do it herself. The parents nestled their oldest daughter between them, each embracing her one at a time and surrounding her in their hugs, Neytiri even going as far as to kiss all over Y/n's face.

Jake is almost beside himself, hushed exhales escaping him as he settles his cheek over the top of Y/n's head and closes his eyes in relief, "You're okay. You're okay, sweetheart."

For a moment, she revels in the peace and her parents' embrace before looking around, inspecting each of her siblings' faces before she took a head count in her mind. She pulls away to look at her mother's face, "Where-- Where's Neteyam?"

Immediately, Neytiri's face falls, and unshed tears quickly form in her aging eyes. Her hand reaches up to cup Y/n's face while looking each of her daughters in the eyes, "Y/n... my girls... something happened."

~~~~~~~~~

Payakan brings all of them to the flat rock faces sticking out of the ocean, forming small islands of their own in the middle of the empty war zone. The Sully family slowly and painfully drag themselves to shore and Lo'ak thanks Payakan before the tulkun leaves. Y/n catches her breath and looks around, finding Tonowari and Ronal, standing off to the side, holding Ao'nung and a sobbing Tsireya in their arms. Lo'ak calls out the reef girl's name and Tsireya starts a new round of crying as she broke away from her parents to embrace him. Ao'nung briefly looks up when the Sullys arrived and locked eyes with Y/n, and to her sinking horror, he looked at her with pity and sorrow. 

She soon found out why when the sound of Tuk's crying rang in her ears. Y/n spun around, ready to defend her baby sister, until she realized that there was no danger. Tuk was crying over a body, holding its arm to her little chest and hand to her face, sobbing. Neytiri blocked Y/n's view as she knelt on the other side of the body, picking it up and holding the head close to her chest. Y/n looks around and catches Jake's eyes as he looked at her expectedly, waiting for her reaction with broken eyes and tear tracks running down his aging face.

Y/n begins to catch on to what was happening, but the words that fled her mouth were ones of denial, "No... no no nononono."

She stomps over to her family, kneeling down around the legs of the body as she frantically looks around, "What's wrong with Neteyam? Mama, don't just stand there! What's wrong with him?! Someone help him! Help him!"

"Maite..."

"Don't!" She pushes Neytiri away and hovers over the body, kneeling down to it opposite Tuk. She finally allows herself to stare at her twin brother's face, and she's haunted by those unblinking eyes, unfocused and staring off at a place they couldn't see anymore. Panicked, Y/n roughly grabs Neteyam's jaw and tries tilting his head around to make him look at her, "'Teyam. 'Teyam? Wake up. You're okay, you're okay, you're okay..."

She is met with silence, and that almost rings louder in her ears than the sound of a roaring waterfall. His eyes still don't blink and his mouth never moves. Y/n, from that day forward, wished she had never looked down, because all the blood was permanently sewn into her memory and purged her nightmares. 

One look at the gunshot puncturing her twin brother's chest, Y/n became a madwoman, roughly grabbing onto Neteyam's shoulders, "TSMUKAN! ZA'U NE'ÌM TSONTA, RUTXE! RUTXE!"

The noise that escapes her lungs is unlike any sound ever heard on Pandora. It pierces the air, shattered and broken like glass to the point where it had to hurt her throat. Tuk was completely terrified, scared to see her oldest sister lose her cool and continue crowing and sobbing like a feral, wounded creature. It was heartwrenching to listen to, and even worse to watch.

Y/n rocked herself back and forth as she sobbed uncontrollably, trying to find the smallest bit of comfort as she held her other half in her arms. Neytiri tried to be her comfort, even through her own shattered cries. Neytiri knelt on the other side of Neteyam's body, holding his shoulder in one hand and Y/n's in the other. The twins, neither living nor dead, noticed or even acknowledged their mother's touch.

"NETEYAM!"

Y/n's last words to Neteyam are roughly translated to: "BROTHER! COME BACK TO ME, PLEASE! PLEASE!"

A/N: So... uh... did I not mention that I write heavy angst? I think I should've put that in my resume. I have several blogs for several fandoms, and if you asked my followers anywhere else, they'll tell you I write angst on purpose. I write angst to make them suffer. Their tears keep me young forever.

Although I can't say this was written without any of my own tears being shed. That would be a lie. I swear I was bawling my eyes while watching the death scene happen (for the dozenth time, I'll be honest) and writing it out. No movie has ever pulled tears from me after I've already watched it several times, which is why I admire Zoe's acting for shattering my heart every time Neytiri screams and cries over her dead child.

But, look at that! Y/n's ikran has a name! It's Evi, derived from the Na'vi word 'evi, which is an affectionate word for 'kid'. That's something light-hearted and cute, right??? Right??? Ha ha, please don't kill me.

Anyway, I promise that this is only the beginning of the series and I hope the rest of it helps you heal from this loss like I know Y/n will likely learn to heal in time 😇 I honestly believe this will help me recover from Neteyam by writing about my characters' own healing journeys.

[fortheloveofarchons]

Dan Heng noticed that Caelus is avoiding him

C.W.

- Caelus/Dan Heng ship - Fluff and angst - Neck kissing and biting - Vidyadhara / Dragon Dan Heng form - Dan Heng and Caelus are bad with feelings - Soft Caelus and Dan Heng - Mentioned March 7th, Pom-Pom, Himeko, Welt, Blade and Jing Yuan

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Ever since the events of what happened in the Xianzhou Luofu, Dan Heng couldn’t help but notice that a certain someone has been avoiding him. The reveal of Dan Heng’s true form from his Vidyadhara lineage and his past incarnation as the Imbibitor Lunae shocked the whole Astral Express members. After all, Dan Heng is someone who carries the residual power left behind by his past incarnation, someone who was once a prominent figure in the history of the Xianzhou Luofu, and someone whose merits and faults are attributed to that sinner. 

Dan Heng dreamed and saw many things, including a never-ending immersia titled "Self."

He saw himself being exiled. 

He saw himself boarding an express. 

He saw himself running into the endless stars, and never looking back.

But right now, he sees someone turning away from him, avoiding his every move and gaze. 

Dan Heng remembers how the trailblazer, Caelus, stared at his Vidyadhara form, as they both become silent on that day. He remembers asking Caelus if there’s nothing he’d like to ask. But at this point, Caelus didn’t want to speak. 

Nobody can get him to open up. 

Since then, Caelus would avoid Dan Heng. 

Usually, the express members would have meals together on the train. But lately, Caelus would either eat his own meal early or that he’d sometimes skip them. While March 7th would puff her cheeks and complain that Caelus shouldn’t refuse Pom-Pom’s delicious food, Himeko and Welt could only resume their meals in silence, exchanging glances that only the two of them could understand. 

Whenever Dan Heng sends a message to Caelus, his messages would be left delivered for a few hours. Even if Caelus was so busy searching for trash cans or dealing with a bunch of side quests, being left on delivery for hours was an uncommon event as Caelus used to reply to everyone’s messages immediately. 

It didn’t help much when Caelus would often avoid Dan Heng’s path as well. One time, when Dan Heng was about to head out of the Seat of Divine Foresight after discussing certain topics with General Jing Yuan, Caelus walks into the office, and the two of them lock eyes with each other. 

Immediately, Caelus turns around and walks out of the office, shouting an apology to General Jing Yuan for casually walking into his office without knowing there was someone else inside. Dan Heng tried to chase after him, but Caelus was nowhere to be found. Later on, Jing Yuan had informed Dan Heng that Caelus had made a reschedule on their appointment. 

After all of this, Dan Heng knows for sure. 

He’s avoiding me. Definitely avoiding me. 

Dan Heng stares blankly as the door to the archives opens. He steps outside of the room tiredly, his long, glowy teal tail practically dragging along the floor, uncaring of whether he would dirty his tail and his sash on the floor. He'd often forgotten how quiet it was on the Star Rail's outer reaches, away from the hustle and bustle of the more densely packed passenger cars. Only the slight hum of the machinery and some very quiet ambient music from the speakers remain. 

Walking around the hallway of the express, he finally encounters Caelus, who is sitting at the back of the Passenger Cabin, an isolated area of the place that is just next to Welt’s locked room. 

With dim lights from the whale-shaped lamps, some potted plants, and two cosy red lounge chairs, not many passengers would venture there unless they needed to recuperate from social activities. 

Caelus, being oblivious to his surroundings, is playing a game on his phone. He sits hunched over his phone, his thumbs moving and pressing deftly against the screen. His brow furrows in concentration, his eyes locked on the bright display, oblivious to the world around him. 

“Yes!” Caelus gives himself a fist bump for his declared victory, and continues to keep himself glued to the screen.

Unbeknownst to him, Dan Heng watches from a distance, his gaze fixed intently on his profile. A furrow of concern mars his eyebrows as he observes Caelus’s absorbed demeanour, a nagging worry gnawing at the corners of their mind. 

A sinking feeling settles in Dan Heng’s stomach. He can’t help but wonder– is Caelus truly unaware of his presence, or is he purposefully ignoring him, retreating into the safety of his visual cocoon to avoid him? 

Enough is enough. This has to stop.

With a resolute sigh, Dan Heng walks up to Caelus, his eyes glowing in bright teal with determination. 

“Caelus.” Dan Heng immediately grabs his phone, covering the screen with his hand. “We need to talk.” 

“Hey! I was about to win–” Caelus’s eyes widen in surprise from seeing Dan Heng, his mouth immediately shut tight. 

In his phone, a red screen pops up, chanting the same words over and over again. 

GAME OVER! GAME OVER! 

“Oh, hey Dan Heng.” Caelus immediately stands up from his seat, shoving his phone in his pocket. “I… Sorry, you must’ve heard that noise on my phone. I guess it must be kinda late, we should get some sleep now.” 

Caelus attempts to shimmy his way out of Dan Heng’s proximity, but his long tail immediately encircles around Caelus’s thigh, rendering him partially immobile to escape. It doesn’t help Caelus much either when Dan Heng wraps Caelus’s waist with his arm, forcing him to look into his bright teal eyes.  

“Hey, Dan Heng…” Caelus tries to remove himself. “What’s with all of this?”  

“Why…” Caelus notices that Dan Heng’s voice is cracked with desperation. “Why have you been avoiding me?” 

“Whaaaaaaaat?” Caelus distorts his voice into an alto, eyes darting anywhere else but Dan Heng’s. “Of course not, I mean– We’re the Astral Express gang, why would I simply avoid–” 

“Caelus!” 

That immediately made Caelus shut his mouth, finally looking at Dan Heng. Just then, Caelus’s eyes are glossy from seeing all of the details of Dan Heng. With Dan Heng’s long black hair laying on both sides of his shoulders, his striking red eyeliners, his green horns, and his outfit having a cutout on the chest that accentuates the contour of his skin, immediately made Caelus’s ears blush in a bright hue of red. 

When did Dan Heng look this beautiful? 

No– He’s always been this beautiful. 

“I know I wasn’t upfront about my past,” Dan Heng could feel tears begin to well up in his eyes. His eyes conveyed vulnerability that Caelus saw only when they were together. “But… I promise that I would never leave the express, and I promise that I would never hurt any of you. I never like to cling to my past, because I didn’t want my past to drag you guys down with me.” 

“Dan Heng…” 

“I guess I just want to say that I can understand why you would avoid me.” Dan Heng continues, his tail clutching onto Caelus’s thigh even tighter. “I wasn’t upfront with you guys, and I’d stubbornly do things my way. But all I really want to say is that… you, and everyone else on the express mean so much to me. The unrest within me seeks an escape, and the express is my choice. So please, don’t ignore or avoid me. I’d rather you yell at me rather than avoiding me like a stranger.” 

Caelus slowly reaches his hand out, gently stroking Dan Heng’s arm without thinking. Dan Heng body shivers under Caelus’s touch, yet doesn’t retract himself.  

“I’m sorry.” Caelus finally mutters a sentence. “I just… I was a bit… What do I call that word? Peeved, I guess.” 

“Peeved?” Dan Heng blinks his eyes in confusion. “About what?” 

Choices of dialogues appear in front of Caelus’s eyes. 

► (Confess to Dan Heng about how much he frustrates you and bite his neck)

► (Tell him he’s handsome and how much you care about him) 

► (Come on… you wanna do all of it right? Come on, do it!!) 

Hmm...

[aeferkssr]

𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐉𝐎𝐑 you look quite divine tonight here among these vibrant lights, pure delights surround us as we sail. signed, yours truly, the whale.

dreams, implied nudity (albedo), fridges exist in game! (cyno), idk cyno lore sorry guys, 0.6k wrds.

masterlist.

aether.

he dreams of you two going on adventures in his previous worlds. what would you two be doing? who would you two meet? what would you two see? how would you two feel? how would you two feel about each other?

the way he feels when traveling with you is extraordinary, an unfamiliar rush of adrenalin courses through his veins as his cheeks start to ache from smiling too much.

he journeys through the world visited prior, with him and his sister. although, the world is anything but unfamiliar to the traveler, his chest still bubbles with excitement as he leads you through each world.

whether you two would be fighting off rouge space monsters, aiming to become the very best that no one ever was, or just simply cuddling with a warm cup of hot chocolate, each adventure is worth traveling with you.

xiao.

he dreams of you two dancing in a field full of glaze lilies. the grass below your feet glistening with morning due as your feet temporarily flatten it, said glaze lilies abundant and free.

as two lover waltz to the song of the blowing wind (some of which he commanded to blow directly at your cheek, a silent kiss from him) and early birds, they feel like they’re the only ones in liyue. no, the whole teyvat.

their bodies weave together: twirling, spinning, leaping and soaring thoughtlessly throughout the plain. he feels a sense of security in this dream, well he always feels safe with you. he longs to do this in your reality. however, glaze lilies aren’t as prevalent as they once were.

albeit, these dreams are sweet, sickeningly sweet. more akin to almond tofu that the screeching nightmares he was accustomed to.

albedo.

he dreams of his next art peice, a new masterpiece to be made by his hands with adoration for you.

your body laying out on linen sheets, with the blankets surrounding and adorning your figure . his paintbrush covered with the colour of your skin makes neat and well thought out lines that copy the splendid sight in front of him.

your body is rested as your eyes droop, the bed being too comfortable for his muse to fight your drowsiness any longer. of course, this doesn’t go unnoticed by the maestro. he allows you a few minutes to regain your energy as he washes off his previously used paint brush.

as you lift yourself fron the bed, his gaze can’t help but linger on your figure: how you cover yourself with the thick comforter, how your yawn elicits small tears to form at the corner of your eyes, how peaceful you look in the moment.

oh how he wishes to cup your face within his palms and kiss you, but maybe — since this is a dream after all — you may allow him to do it, just once.

cyno.

he dreams of a domestic life with you. the only worries on his mind is keeping you warm, and the only crimes to solve is to find out who took the last slice of pie in the fridge.

whether he stares with hearts in his eyes as you decorate tonight's dessert — a strawberry shortcake, inspired by the plump strawberries you got at the market today — or the playful glare he gives after you put some of the cream on the tip of his nose.

being general mahamatra means that he is constantly on the road, going from location to location to sercve justice onto those who deserve, but he can't always carry you with him on his expeditions.

so when hes with you coddled up in your arms as you read (well, re-read) his favourite novel, he can't help but let his guard down, drifting off and melting even further into your arms.

[trainingdummyrabbit]

IM BACK. CANT BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS. [limbusspoilers]

first to get it out of my system

UAGHUDHIUHGHHHGBHHHGH . AUHGHG. A.

ok. so compass right. this is not going to be coherent. im 5 min off the canto and this one hit Hard. sorry <33

ok so seeing the boss track In Action. Hits DIFFERENT. absolutely stunning buildup with the backing, the constant; dull; distant pulse of a heartbeat, the ticking of static, cuts in of those ambient cries, the echo of a sonars blip like water drops in a puddle.

the entire thing is encompassed by this almost stifling feeling of softness, distance, like staring through a dream. it nails the feeling of drifting deep beneath the waves, unmoving- the way things are almost clear, yet far beyond your reach.

this stifling feeling of loss, a cry only just held back by the muffling effects of the pressure above, building, or maybe always there. how it wades in, calmly, this cold, angry distance. the fading sensation of light swallowed by layers and layers of murky water.

and as it progresses, that crushing buzz of the static takes over, rising, that voice becoming more strained and sharp along with it. that backing melody becomes nigh silent as it drops into silence, all focus on one, tantilizingly close point, before...

everything rushes forward at once, a deluge. nothing will quite hit as hard as the image of ishmael pulling the rope and harpoon tight, the lyrics accompanying-- to tear yourself away from something you considered to be all you are, clinging tight to a lifeline, the rush of the noise around you as it all comes crashing down, due to your own hand, your own realization-- your own desires. "hold on tight--" as a call for support, in desperation, not just to call forth the imagery of that sailing crew-- but as a plea directed inwards, almost, to plant your feet and survive.

and the gentle, almost broken in-and-out, "high tide / low tide," accompanied by nothing but the ticking of a clock as everything else falls to silence.

songs that sound like screaming into a storm, an impulsive, defiant challenge towards that which could swallow you up in an instant. songs that sound like bared teeth my beloved.

now the disclaimer this is, again, all ive seen of limbus in person. i am going to be wrong about things. bear with me.

FUCKING ADORE how ahab is written. holy fucking shit. such an easily likeable character, grand and sweeping and confident, loud and solid in an otherwise uncertain and hopeless situation. she calls attention, she crushes doubt in an instant as if it were nothing more than silt beneath her heel. and what a fantastically written character.

and what im happiest about, i think, is that ishmael was right about her. she hadnt changed. even in her flurry to rush in, she was Right.

such an easy figure to follow, such a bright beacon to carve the path ahead. of course you would want to believe her. and even more striking, they almost do. they all have this split moment of doubt, right at the cusp of it all-- and they catch on. its so so good watching that realization dawn not just on them, but on myself as well, to stand back and go "oh. oh she's good."

its done that several times in this chapter-- a moment of "oh. oh god this is what they're doing." RIGHT as the cast does themselves. ishmael, the color of the sunset. ahab, tugging anyone who listens into the pull of her wake. their obsession, their desires, the "i wanted to be like you." the "we are the same, now."

queequeg. end sentence.

and how everything builds up upon itself, swirling itself into a spiral. abandon all common sense in the great lakes. whale oil, which dissolves and assimilates all that comes to contact with it. the cocoon, the compass, the rope. the pale, the whale.

it was very fun cheering for ishy as she pressed forward recklessly, and i knew they were going to address that somehow. that single point of obsession-- seeing how they handled it though, was truly something else. i was Not expecting the track to be so... mellow, walking in. and yet, it encompassed everything in such a fascinating way, one that didnt just repeat what had been said, but altered it completely. gave it depth. it was not some brazen cry of rage and grief-- its the fluid yet firm grasp of everything thatd built up to that point. and i respect it so so deeply for that. i could not be happier.

so basically i

[marzipanwings9099]

☎️

HOORAY, A SKETCH 🌹

💥 The action takes place 2-3 years after the previous sketches and events of the animated series, provided that the boys were 13-14 years old. What you read further is not canon, but represents the author's (Marzipan's) fantasies and headcanons for the characters. Thank you for your attention! 💥

"The night sky was truly beautiful, and the cooling chamomile tea was even better. It's no secret that chamomile is calming, but Secret didn't need that, he was already feeling great, because...

- You'll freeze. - A familiar voice was heard behind him.

- It should get warmer soon, the titmice whispered. - Kipp giggled, moving so that George could sit up.

- The titmice whispered, you say? Do you have a fever or did you drink chamomile?- George said thoughtfully, watching the birds flying across the pink sky. He inhaled the summer air that had managed to seep in during the last days of spring and turned his gaze to his boyfriend. - No, seriously, Kepp, why aren't you sleeping? - But the question was followed only by puzzled silence and a sad sigh. - Are you worried about university? - Like Kipp turned his thoughtful gaze to George, which could be considered a "yes." - Uni-uni... Do you want to talk about it?

Moving closer to him, George gently hugged him by the shoulders. Kipp, however, sighed sadly again and remained silent, burying his face in his knees.

- If you keep quiet, caterpillar doll, I'll start telling you about Eliza and Jane's new clothes. - Finally, the impenetrable Secret laughed and raised his head, after which he groaned tiredly.

- How do you always manage to piss me off?

- I know you don't like Eliza, it's no secret! - George said, hugging Kipp with both hands, to which he received another whale-like groan.

- I don't knoooow... - Kipp drawled, taking a sip from his mug and handing it to George. - At what point did everything become so difficult?

- You're filling your head with nonsense. University is a great place to start from scratch! Maybe you'll find new interesting acquaintances?

- Or maybe I'll remain a geek with a love for soda...

- Well... I see only pros in this, not cons.

- I should take my life more simply... - Kipper fell silent, leaning on George, and then quietly continued. - Can we start talking about Eliza and Jane's clothes yet?

- Nope! Let's talk about... - While he was thinking, Secret had already managed to go downstairs and lie down on George's lap. - "Gathering of Young Knights"!

- I read through pain and tears, why are we assigned to read this? The main character is as dumb as a cork. He could have avoided meeting Gansteloth, or whatever his name is, by simply going out an hour later, as he was advised to do, but of course he did not follow this advice and got into a duel. The End. Thank you, I'm out of tissues for tears. - He finished sarcastically and looked at George, who was watching him with a gentle smile and loving eyes. - Are you staring, Georgie.

- I'm not allowed to do this, your geekery?

- I'm not a geek! Stop making fun of my love of comics!

- Okay, okay, sorry... - George answered, holding back his laughter. Stroking Secret's fluffy hair, he finished his tea and watched the rising sun.

- By the way, why did you wake up? Did I wake you up?

- You could say that, it was very strange and scary to feel you in my arms and suddenly, sharply, feel the cold and your absence.

- Got it, we'll sleep in separate beds? - Kipp said, smiling again.

- Don't even dream about it, I bought you churros, you're my slave now, boy! - George laughed, feeling Secret laugh silently down below. During the time they spent together, Kipp had become an integral part of his life, and it was his laughter, voice, messages, jokes, dark eyes and fluffy hair that made George smile. No matter how sappy and poetically sweet it all sounded, he loved him with all his heart.

- God, I'm a slave to the churros, where is this world coming to, it seems like I'm not afraid of university now!

- Wow! It turns out the churros are saving the world! - George shouted, throwing up his hands.

Making a "hand-face" Secret laughed again, then got up from the steps and went back into the house, giggling.

- So am I banished from your bed or not? I need to be ready! - Secret threw, also getting up and hurrying after him.

- While my parents are not home, you are completely at my disposal, teapot. - Leaning on the door frame, Secret watched George, who had turned pink.

- Sounds... Tempting. - George barely squeezed out of himself, after which he heard the click of the switch behind Kipp's back and he was very successfully pulled by the collar of his pajama shirt and kissed on the lips. A slight smile broke through the already short kiss. Pulling away, both smiled slyly. Not because of some shaky thoughts, but rather because of the sparks that electrified the tips of their fingers and made them smile stupidly, lovingly.

- Yes, it looks like it's time for us to sleep. - George began to leave, backing away and Kepp belatedly shouted "There!...". The tabletop, like a sword, struck his back.

- You are the worst romantic in my life, you know that? - Already applying the frozen ice with them, Kipper said.

[notfoundfootage]

Milk of the Siren

The Lost Boys (plus Star) x Fem!Siren!Reader Mermaid (noun): a fictitious or mythical half-human sea creature with the head and trunk of a human and the tail of a fish, conventionally. DO NOT REPOST/PLAGIARIZE A/N: Fem reader, reader has magical singing, reader is omnivorous, eats people, I wrote this with a mershark in mind. Slight gore and slight mention of mershark eating sea animals and humans, nothing too much repulsive I hope. Second person writing in the intro. Reader is a siren/manipulating little cunt, so I'll put dubcon just to be safe. I wrote an intro and each boy separately but it can be read as Poly too. Hope you enjoy, reblogs are always inspiring ♥ English is not my first language and I'm my own beta reader, so forgive me or warn me of my mistakes. This is a kind of a big project for me, so I'll take some time to write and maybe I'll change some things story wise along the way, I'm accepting suggestions, send me an ask! ♥

Siren's Pov:

Summertime in Santa Carla was always chaotic and full of bugs and tourists. Bustling music, adrenaline filled rides, delicious food and that forever fever dream state that the scorching heat and a dangerous amount of beach could provide. During modern times, millennia-old creatures and legends adapted very well in the so-called "murder capital of the world" and basked in the benefits of the newfound diversity of humans, blending well with many different styles and ways of life.

It is known of the exceptional vampire clan lead by an unseemly video shop owner and it's unnatural offspring, as they keep the first place in manslaughter, but humans usually tend to choose to see what they want to see, and blame it on other humans, substances or any convenient cause that would put vampires as an option. They thrive on human blissful ignorance, just like you.

You've been to many places in the world, and many years you lived disguised between other sharks and humans. Changing between a tail and legs at will, seeking as much if not the same blood lust of vampires, you lured people to the sea like you were the brightest light a moth could fly into only to eat them and leave only bones buried in the depths.

Humans see things as they wish to see. And they see the beauty you carry around, even if you think of yourself as having mundane or common appearance, there's just a glamorous and mysterious allure to you, and when you sing, all is damned for them.

That's how you end up in manipulating your way into singing in the boardwalk stage itself, driving the usually loud and boisterous crowd to it's complete opposite: silent and attentive.

You would always disappear after your little displays of magical talent, and snatch away one or two per week, feeding of human food whenever you didn't feel so much hunger, and snacking on hidden parts you hid for later.

Tonight was no different. A mershark can live off fast food and sugary drinks for so long before feeling blood lust again, and fight with other sharks or other merfolk for whale remains is always more tiring than fun.

Quickly scanning your usual spot on the beach for privacy, you changed in the water from tail to legs, a slight ache in your lungs from the transformation that faded as you breathed the air of the sky. You squished the water out of your hair and walked to the hiding spot you kept your human stuff such as clothes, accessories and mementos of decades ago.

The moon was full and your power to the maximum. Tonight is your night.

Star's pov (IN PROGRESS):

She could say her life was fun as a half-vampire, and it was mostly true. But being bait became boring night after night, and Star started to resent becoming a vampire. Until she noticed you dancing to a street artist cover of some song from Fleetwood Mac. You hummed along the lyrics and she suddenly wanted to become whatever you were, because deep down she knew you weren't human.

Paul's pov (IN PROGRESS):

He was about to go into Max's store to mess around but then he saw a glimpse of something in the crowd. That was enough to pull him away from the boys and go search for it. The person wearing a stupid 81's Walkman, humming to the tape they were currently listening to. As you walk past him to the main stage, he follows you like his life depends on it.

Marko's pov (IN PROGRESS):

Sharing a body isn't his usual trait, but seeing you covered in it mesmerized him to a point it feels weird to talk about. He pulls you in for a deep kiss, tasting metallic in your mouth and basking in your bloodied body. He wants to share everything with you, do things for you, eat you up too. You would eat each other if David didn't pull you apart.

Dwayne's pov (IN PROGRESS):

Nothing phases him so much at this point in his life, and having you sing to him songs he thought he would never hear again did things in his usually down to earth mind that made him actually wary of you. He could see how much you were alluring, and how big the grasp you had on his non-beating heart, how dangerous it was, but he was willing to risk it all for having you sit on his lap and sing to him again.

David's pov (IN PROGRESS):

He hated trying to thread control with you. He hated how you were trying to steal everyone from him. He hated the grasp you had on him every time you traded sharp looks and fought for control, only to give to you willingly. You fight, you run away, and he begs to you to come back.

Michael's pov? Anyone?

[autumnalwalker]

A Dream About Draconic Diplomacy

The rumor goes that a dragon the size of a large whale appeared out of a portal off the coast but was immediately shot down by a battleship’s cannons.  Most people dismiss it as nothing more than that.  There’s no such thing as dragons and once someone points out that a dragon coming from a portal to another world would technically make it an alien, “alien dragons” becomes a shorthand for laughably ridiculous conspiracy theories.

And yet I find myself in a fern-shrouded forest, not far from the coast where the alleged sighting happened watching a dragon silently move between the trees.  This one is more elephant- or giraffe-sized rather than whale.  It’s surprisingly hard to track with the way its green scales blend into the moss-coated tree trunks and lush undergrowth.

I duck back into the metal bunker, fearful that the dragon may have spotted me.  I ask the human representative stationed there if they think it saw us and how protected this bunker is against fire.  They tell me that the dragon definitely knows we’re here, and that dragons spew poison, not flames.

As if on queue the dragon sticks its head into the still-open bunker door.  Sparkling blue motes of light shimmer around its head.  There is a moment of utter quiet and stillness, and then the dragon departs.  The human representative tells me that the dragon just granted us its blessing.

A red portal opens up and the otherworldly ambassador we’ve been waiting for finally arrives.  She looks like nothing so much as a child-sized orb of white feathers clad in a ornate green and orange robe with two spindly dark green (nearly black) arms and two equally twig-like legs that all resemble bird legs.  None of these limbs look capable of supporting her weight.  Perhaps that is why she rides a living chair.  This ambling conveyance consists of a feathery bowl with a high seat back, situated atop four gangly legs longer than I am tall.  The legs and feathers of the living chair look so much like the ambassador’s that it is difficult at times to tell when she ends and it begins.

The ambassador is brusque and imperious with her greetings, discarding pleasantries and getting straight to business, right up until she catches me staring.  She asks why I’m gawping at her so like some provincial local who’s never seen one of her kind before.  It is true that I haven’t.  I tell her that I am enraptured by her beauty and that of her robes.  That is also true.  She seems to appreciate the flattery.

[libidomechanica]

I have added a slight scandals strange, are it

A ballad sequence

               1

And he opprest my weary brow.     Weapon than an aged sisters of the hand forbid? Without     a guide. What merchant-

ship, the more gentleness, but that     bright, dreaming in the affairs suppose. ’ For a vent; arrived,     by pure necessity

and morn. To þe hyȝe honour at     þis Nwe Ȝer, hit negh myȝt of þe grene chapel men knowen     of þy gifte, þat watz not

wrothe, þat wynter to be at his     right name, Caesar himself, a sheath and the rose; they are but     a dog then most I algate

mynn hym to, and lach þer hir     luf, oþer recreaunt be seized, inside its amethyst blue gaze.     Had lovers quickly we’ll

undress to one whose leaves of thing     over their sabbaths here, or what I’ve shunned so harsh, but fouler     far this fiery

race; but when right, drawn after Sorrow     to each other, and his blysse and hir þeder in a     pellet of a won in

wod þer heȝly honowred with     two alone the queen. Crooked, and, stepping to fade away—     yet not meant to see her

there in one agree: what, he victuall’d     as we do. When birds do sing, and conueyed, bikende hym     ȝelde þat tyde. ’Twas bootless

thing, it shall whelm the Powers keep     religious men, who with gown tucked up, to wakes; for thee; sounds     not body; he was absence

vain: the Future I may have     it is each them that’s this tangled power, and now in this,     that Eloquence is bold

even that face of departed     þe wesaunt fro þe body, þat blykked on hepez in     þe wod of a whale to

some black memorial on the     best. To sup or diner watz rayled ayquere hit is þe     tytel þerof to telle

of trees, dancing they still it     haue wrought it seems to fail it is my life and feel why time     shall live, remembering here

reaching hed, pray that foam’d above,     around me, and swell took her with as god mon schulde resayt,     bi þay were restayed with

tears when the maps the pined with debt:     for ho hatz ben longe. In the words are coin’d in control they     eyed each account, their

tedious to his feet; save the south.     Peace sitting calm around, one and stoffed wyth a schunt þe     schulde no freke in hitself?

               2

Who in the soul need not to give him spread as breeze     a hundreth of hunter, hooks. Ship off the Holy Three to Senegal; teach them to the     other million times in forlorn, dying all-sufficient forth good manners, and stemed     and chekez þat were neither old or new. That thou wert cold dead; and none of Sisyphus,     if once with their estate—this instigates

an appetite to plese, þat þus hor knyȝt I     becom, and secrets, haply I might for, baith kirk and quat-so bifallez after all,     no Remedy but Flight. The poor patience; first childish push-pin, for wants the boatmen, too     engulfed as the left me borrow, sit by their brevity to rewardez. Lord it o’er     the married man, and some grass as bright

entice you else by arms will storms have been by need     to the daughter the whole I planned! For of blood, and were I chide those Cherries banish mee.     Yet there, ere man but follow’d, as a poplar or a pole, a travell’d on the silent     happiness! Pure token of studious zeal or Woe, nothing lutes; nor be afraid! I     will not die. To recover from her

lip, the Argo, convey’d Medea’s magic: every     virtue dignify a woman could watch thy hope, to thee, that he left her mou’, her fathers     a repertory of face, strakande ful hoge and so he would content, with yȝen gray,     a semloker knyȝtez þen innoȝe ar herde he lenges; and whisper’d the Splendour gradual     swell’d poisonous about in the

van of his hede as alle your voice back into     the wilder’d on the pleated shirt yellow- sailed boat comes the shape of mine lies another     declare—i’ll say, I wish to spare em, for I see that he stod vpon spare em, for a     garysoun, and Nineveh. Are they follow that vernal beau. Say I’m sad, say that Ill may     be said or done and then should surely

be. Or music of Heaven the leaders sped; but     great described better. Sweet music came to seche: he seȝ non such guise that cup has been dealt     in an April wears out thy soul should have though shuddering new love pursue: ’twas guilty     sinner,—he did not yow devaye wolde not sink i’ the grey-hair’d creature he askez; serched     up for profit when from the billows:-

when like a prophet, in such you might lapse gainst my     heart, which, like a common places. He kysses hym þe bronde and for all in the aggregate     may average on that my affected, I opine. Who will flip, let alone as hem     best semed, ne no pysan ne no schafte ne no schelde and lull its reason’s rule now reign     thy thought to witlesse they have to lie

on a lyȝt horce launces hym frayned hym swyþe—and     of the rye, with grief does know. Who, after, wayuez vp a wyndow, and pité, þat proude in     hymseluen þe fautles of kest; þer ros for blys and constantly awake unto me; love     with so pouer a mon, and commodiously loked, wyth wynne, where thou hast the end. To     overslide, or be deliverer, how

desolate, and whether a sky’s or tradesman’s     ware or his steps, and thank your will, the red golde schapen watz noble births, nor dread the     enlivener of mete and fortitude that vessel: soon she went, he added feather.     Of the tree turn sleep to costume. Let but a voyage may cool; but such neuer freke þer-     byside, sir Gawen, and the viewless

wind. All possible music has soul two souls can     make him. Who art as blacke but in bail for his wings, ere he in her lele luf hir bityde;     ȝif þay found, it seems to fair thou hast smil’d? To teche, as ȝe at þis tyme, þat þe hyȝe,     bot vnhap had hym in syþes sere, and quykly of þe knot alofte; his schulde schapen to sorȝe,     for such a dere tyme so kenly þe

colde to flyȝe ful hyȝe, and let lodly refuse. You     lounged, like a high cloud divided at the sky is clear, and pine, and one more; bot for     such a point of a dog can be hugged, or change for the king, as the Living Water drain’d.     Wave on wave, just what I’ve shunned so harsh, but in their sphere. Are bull, your mind was not myn ernde     to acheue chaunge, what not, to please, I do

contentment with our eyes. I slid the fool the womb—     it is now your voice with a silently describing to redeem his heavy Saturn’s     vintage; mouldest moder so dere, of beast, behemoth, and nymphs, and heþe at hys lef home,     fyndez fire vpon Goddez blessyng, and, in this, that thou only care is beading to redeem     his hert arȝe wyth ful stor words that

thou through a woman in converted are from our     offender gave, and having came Oceanus the queen myself, believe that bee which, in     disentangled the foreheads; saw thee, my Rose; years have sworn to die alone. Let me feel     the November of tumbling felt about the bride: but, as the chair, did thus the old man,     which holds a forwardez nouþe, þat noȝt

watz neȝ at þe heȝe dece, dut he not þe ladyes     innoghe, þat brode ȝatez. Are both good aboundeth! And his sacrum qui vulgar people     of a sute, and euermore unrest; my though in wretched the woman died. Back to Scylla     in a niche and I the day become both projected, we are ill at more, for Gode, my     gay, and a hey nonino, for love

exclaim: Forbear, while graceful lady to loke þo     ladyez wlonk þe knyȝt þere as marble was like waters wash’d by the same worlde wakned lote,     þat siþen ho seuered þe hyde. His blasoun boþe halue, þaȝ hedlez he were, and never know     how longing fire, by force accomplish’d:- If he utterly hit hym þoȝt, if he be fair.     Sir Gawan ful glad, and pin’d for books

have drain’d.—Fairest maid on Devon banks, crystal. I     tried in fourme we oure bare nek; þaȝ he lowkez his bele chere: iwysse with a borelych     bytte bende of a stif staf þe sturne, stif on þis flet, ellez þou ne wonder, he let     not from the God’s sake! And laȝter myry, as withalle. Part, there’s variety;     also a seasoning slight hint, to

hunt in þe grene, refourme of his hondeselle,     ȝeȝed ȝeres-ȝiftes on earth we are ashes, what armour to haue at your love, yet when     the acutest hinters, admit, rejects the viler, as underhand, not openly     bearing the sill, he gave us being, and lyȝten on þe flore, and if I be not     much baret to quelle; and þenne he

meued to his pocket&turned tyme twelmonyth and bleden,     bi bonkkez to sadel, vpon Goddess beckoned and dear, that wax and wane in love should     therefore can’t well he knelt before sette, and runyschly he rydes into a foreigners     excel the loss of reach, as growe, which keepes the silvery showed, the Master in the     cause, as judges are steadfast? Ones, and

I grow cold, and from the tree. And as the shame which     in this they succeeded in his lute: his finding, Dear, to love, nor power, how with silk     sayn vmbe his sleepy eyes I was wonder your street and a yellow peels, my stinging bow’d     his because I am old, so little black clouds run slow, slight recedes and of absolute,     subject to non ille ne pine.

               3

And he took there’s mony baner     ful brode, and gef hem alle goud day, he wende when I     sit a Bird accurst upon

thee, on peril of my     Prosperity, to tell; ’tis past all her homage to his blonk,     þe bryȝtest’, þe burȝ boȝed

together, you, a sparrow on     the strictest in fear of worth. Deep water-world, then tell you     believe that aw’d echo

into oblivion; and some     prize, both himself, and die rather weeping dove, nor followed     me. This task of joy that

fatal power. Form, in heaths, and     muffled thud that fault; once more gently strokes. And happed to     music fled, tomb’d in a

twilight now, and order all the     World, and eke the Misses bridled, and spekez, I wyl nauþer     golden scabbard on a

strawberries. It once How good townes     be lost, þat þe lude myȝt about in a ker syde sittes,     boþe þe later I too

creep to the real portrait of that     will one day beat you hold in your con onswarez agayn,     sir Gawayn, ’ quoþ þe meny,

boþe þe lyre and forgetful     utterly of self-intent; content thy will. For note, when     story, and swell the sand?

               4

In any oþer maner of me.     And emptied to the unknown power to take his gold for     ever—ever dare to sue thee that o’er my desires;     don’t look in thy breast and

doesn’t the enumerations? Ta     now þy geserne, vpon scho fonge þay wenten, now as we flit     by each other, go to the cost nor shame o’t, but being     brief, thou, then for thou

hast her, it is esteem. The strictest     in fear of height and pine. Cried, one leg stuck in measures,     where at full-blown, shed full of discontentedly, with     hymseluen, couth not one. And

tender hesitation, or     redeeming shakes hand—the deep east, dun and lemande to flower     that April dress’d with the early love up in the barbed shafts     of disappear; and al

with any sign or charge þe, to     fonde of þe corsedest kyrk þat euer ȝe tale herde of þe     world is all. You lounged, like Aurora, proue of gentle     moon, and groan for me to

þe erþe, his cher mended. To your     wine, on the shore, so did hit þere on the topics most mad     ay god chere, and emptied to thee. And waked me wyth þe     peple bifore þe chef

hunted al þis day, which alone     no mixture did admit. Parted dead. And leaves in speche, dere     dalyaunce to quat ȝe demen. Of studious zeal or Woe,     nothing to myself and

his great compassions, wit without     pretence, not Momus self I praise or blame. And I feel their     servant take thy rest; would you know the sea breathe ten hundreth     together, you, a spark.

               5

I have to live and wane in love.     ‘What all departed dead. No matter for you saw too that     are young! Or his mysdede, here is wayth fayrest þat fele     fayre schedez on semez, and þer bayen hym to haue, when she     left behind. But draw the

waur best-graced grace? I cared for hys     mayn dintez þen any thing, I own, whene’er to be a     Jew. That upon it, I have prove, and out of sight; beyond     thinke of your hidden pride In the learning of youth, darken’d     in the fireside with

terror, to hunt our error,     retire: but I am gone in bloom of your mouthe of þe     leude þat couþe. Or music’s cage, who long attendance, and shaking     a hundred years we’re chasing the rain. And hatz out þere,     neuer more that things have

been female dates, strike louies, and ruȝe     knokled knarrez with handsome ancient time, when birds from all     we for gander, ’ and taste the Water-Monarch. Or what a     load of Right, it is so nigh. And having in the NY sky     but is the common weed

the maples for you go: the sooty     oil. But it isn’t the uninitiated. And had     ben seuen ȝere in þis lorde greue, and most alone sinks down he     knelt before the Hesperian tast surpasse, mony aunter     bitidde, þe chauntré of þe

bryȝtest’, þe burȝ and þy bur, bede     me no lote. Among prynce of þe londe welde, for if þe ȝonder     dere, to deme were human accents halcyon. He dancers     will he slepe so slake my blood without you—two days in     sheer astonishment;

forgetful utterly scans all the     worlde worchip he wolde hit were than this beauties so diuine ravisht,     staid not, thought to range some truth had come naked and had     the way, and þe masse, laykyng of prys, parauenture. Your trade     was with their halls, and I

wol þe as wel, wyȝe, ȝe sayn Jon,     ’ and smeþely con he smyle, in fayth hit þoȝt. But I, vnbid,     fetch her but I? As was no great disparaged to herkenez     bi heggez ful fayre— þaȝ I hade no bones. Who has not     kept the village, the Salt

I have lullaby they love away.     Now let me here needed a music-master nature,     and fann’d away by thy doubts appease. Past land and also     yow alle þe trwly, ’ quoþ þe clere costez þe lord chief justice     of al þe rous rennes

of þe brode paumez; for þaȝ     men ben mery in my story straight. He myntes boute spyt     more. The spite of hell is tumbling like a monument over     the way, at court the moor and tired I look’d for mercy.     Drinking sure, each

humanity, but why should fall and     part; sweet love’s beauty shall sting. Than Heav’n, and his lyre, and near     my health, the grounde stondez, and Gawayn þe noble innoȝe vpon     thy cheek a rose and, Which wonted were most kyd knyȝtez.     Writ in the Sea-God’s head.

               6

And forest green, with gay gaudi of grene. And whiles,     faire shew, while all delight. Or all turn out untrue. Want of words are void of comforts me:     a brute, therefore cannot but look down

or See, it’s something beyond all my soueraigne parties     to compensate, trying not to real hell. Hope, in pity mock not Absál at his wings,     ere he draȝez hym sone, warnez hym ryȝt,

redly I trowee þat ȝe lye nexte, bifore all worth     a tour to haf wonnen? He saw far in the wild wood and ill, on either hope to find     Endymion, with truest bars to their

name, or make a ladder of the sex will teach discern,     compare, not prizing her pace, now turning shuts, a certainty, perhaps they didn’t say     it. Ho commen; gayn hit hym vp and

fears annulling page music that it is what it     is hir name, calling rain names of the palaces of silent happiness, and schon þurȝ     a roȝe greued Gaynour and heave my side,

until mine. Ears: now I have walk’d, or studie quo walt     þay þat day doubble on þe des and out he watz þe gyld gere þat he folȝed longe; he     calde hemmez, and as þou hettez, and

panting smile; time has thrown on men of every isle,     and crossed the very wretchednesse things done, that mine ear. Silver lip kissing into is,     was, and sayde soþly I know, than she.

So þat þe here is no stronger, darker and noble     person, grace, or the viler, as undertaken be, they led on red ryche cote-armure,     his gold sand imps he seemly raiment

of that aged form, look’d upon the soil. Past     land and equipp’d a Camel, and sone þer com a porter, some summer winds and walked with     beauty still, I tried in her leue, hit

is þe token lystily for Thee—Oh spurn thee     forgot. And Agrauayn a la dure may be dear, and many a scalding tear: the child, as     it were a knyȝt þat couþe. And making,

the bar, a blunt plainly see how the black chords upon     an affidavit, romance, but being drawn and rent of þe lede with Truth. Pensive     angle with you and I. He brayde broþerhede,

a bauderyk schulderez his white, poor     Cynthia! For one venerate a petticoat—a garment of this failins, ’twill please herself     shalt give whate’er their required. Behold!

His even thou lift the glasse, offred and     twittering of things are steadfast? My life, no cloud as syllables, till you require. The     Brightest, come away! The horse, my hand;

I warrant thee, i’ll never will he slepe sound     commodiously loked, wyth a glent wilful- slow, towards a tomb. The Drinking, laughed free, and once     and ennui. From this cold regions

run, thick as they join, joints dovetailed hare: how the pass’d     in such you should not be longer duke or ear, or no; or whether with eyes are her cheeks,     a pattern of all most desire.

And couetyse þat I have her this sort of the north     flowers, thought me meikle wae; but of a dog can be. And who can fight against my kisses     bridled, and finger fails; and tumbled

down a precipitate a situation?     Or seeing he was the atrocious, unless you love; I sit a Bird accurst upon     the sun, the last doth preserved his life.

               7

Me still procure, Alas! To have     sworn. Let me be ware. Die single Almond packt. That they dance,     and Lyonel, and sesed

þe knyȝtez. With hor kest of the     pane I know not how it is worþy as ȝe hyȝt, þenne sayde,     Quat schulde. Thickens your pleasure

the prize, both white hand, my launces     hym frayned þe freke þat he were þat al he schulde hardi     be boþe. Who could tell

there was a better luck a better,     youth descending days, making up the whole days in bed     cawing Nooooo at their bodies,

none enough, gone under thee     with the beautiful dreamed that, amassing what young doue may,     go marry; for he went,

griped all his payttrure, þe endeles     knot. Content to renew her transparent might unused     stay from his voice singing.

               8

Than Heaven’s assistance be contend.     Full sweets into the gruff complain truth, and care! ’Mid     continuous roars, and some

piercing tride, as ony brat o’     wedlock’s bed, in a’ thy starry night by Night Zulaikha     went to meet you said with

wymmen þat þay same. Is differently     their own weight, the wilder’d stranger flow. Who eats fire     to women, calling stream,

nor left me, and horses and daisy,     salvia lyrata … oh goodbye to creek joining     there—hands, rose cheek who can

think men love when wink awhile his     spouse to leave them, and swarez agayn, bi my faythful I     fynde þe a stroke out þe

avanters, and only joy, his     muthe, as ȝe reherce here þat aþel Arthour I hat; liȝt luflych     knyȝt craued leue quen þay

slypte, slentyng of þe scharp yrne. That     souerayn I holde lenger þe knyȝt, Gawan I have yet done,     exactly the women

most deed:-thou wast my clarion’s blushes,—     he though better, bot to trust what a wild flowers, and     by oath the path thee.

Resuming quickly shall discover     in the Skein of Joy.—Whence courage quails and brought else, here’s     no describing their man.

For virtue advance; for to teach     and through language—the liar, ah God, as he sits to pestle     a poisonous about

the matrons frown’d; some say, for     wyn in hys helme, and pain by the same world, unblessed on     the boatmen near who are

no rewardez. And he hem raysed     for her Heart turn’d gem, appear’d along with airy fellow-     men with no specially

after pay the language no laws,     we’re chasing they loved tracasserie, ’ began to loke on þe     morne, as God wyl me wysse.

               9

A careful, tender nurseth them.     I know no gome þenne! Are the queen of straw; had your ease, and     stifly start bi stoundez, and smiles which from times are steadfast?     And as golden scabbard

on a pile of children would some     palace of Heaven whisper from her Cheek, and hatz out þe     bolde þat he beknew cortays speche þay þe bauderyk bounden     boþe þat ryol red cloþe

þat ros vpon folde bifore, and bryȝt     blaunner was awful, and sete, sesounde of þis ryched at     the Blue Mountain, love I shall add them not; and of brest and     day, and tak the true blood;

and as ho stod, and wan’d the grounde,     and he hit to fynde hys fere vpon hepez in þe inore     half so nice as being brief, the real portraiture of my     House, light of ioy, the coffee,

open the night was made: our     times away. The outlet thee wi’ as gude will as a’ the     prey of every virtues are bad. Tis said—indeed a     generalities. To grauntez

byfore, bot such a sadel     þat glemed ful newe neȝed þe twys, and sulkily the woman     was there shall never dying all reprieve’s too late.—     In short, the world is all

the West, lest thy harshest vengeance     between sea and sky: this conditions of torment, as a     knyȝt of Morgne la Faye, þat much berd as a bauderyk, aboute     þe haþeles on his

honde, hef hyȝly halden, and do     hit out of view, dissolving into the water’s brink she     lay thy loof in mine, lass, that treasure, but sweets to soft music     that is myldest moder

so dere, of sum auenturus,     oþer sum of years, do I remonstrate: folly wide the merely     quote what it is scaþe þat þou schal be warm, the ruffian’s     hind feeding on my hip,

turn sleep to the latter whether     by lent, as I trowee þat ȝe be, wyȝe, welcum þis ilk wele     bi wytte of your past impression! Hence shall arbitrate?     A goodly verdurous

matting of a son … You! And ryȝt     bifore þe fayre on his hod boþe, and al watz raysed hit     at his paunce at the empty honour ends, and Tellus feels     his forsnes he ferde as

hem best semed, and they do, t     will choose; a fair possession, to pleased, prolong his teeth, for     wet filaree and ladies all marrow bone hostel, ’ coþe þe     lady luflych knyȝtez.

               10

As that hell-born Circe. Next, that I     prize reserve thee with women: but thy rim, skull-things turn to     Loathing; a good grace of

thought. Sit thou be what had redden     þerinne as he fetched with it it must plays an ende. Mete     and somewhere the loves to

sete, þe burne þat ros vpon þis knyȝtez.     And sunly and let as he used to scorn, good Thenot     leave thus governes mee.

               11

Let God worche at him—Hysterical,—     he breathing stuff might see swallows obeying their joy,     and says as ho stonyed

hym sone, rased hym weue. For greme     þenne, bertilak de Hautdesert I hat in blacknesse bright     coming of arwes—at

vche wende on schulderes; hir þryuen     face as þe wyȝe, I wolde yow aboute hone, þe duches doȝter     of Tyntagelle,

þat geten hem bylyue. Dar any     harme hent, arȝez in þis hous hym þryes, as of a tree, till     high defiance ’gainst the

tear or mend. Neuer þe launde, and     whiles, faire disgrace, let him almost close thought the debris of     prys in mony hatz taken—

for ho hatz dalt—disserue, ȝif     ȝe haf waled wel better, I schal fange at þy fust þat     I ask bi ryȝt. Then Piers,

of friendly kiss: I promised the     guy. Pale grew thin like a gray washboard; where the sky and when     upon a tuft of some

Columbus of their own flesh to-     day demay yow þat ilke gome in þe wod of a whale to     some palace rang; the Nestors

were the beautiful dreamed that     treasure passe. Fair the tiles, for fools will splash the black Buick,     driven by a blade

of fresh foliage and straight to     seed. Before her cheek when it goes black, we will there be some     minx tripped to þe garysoun

oþer leude þat he were, and folden     in wyth yrn to þe heȝe felle; nade he no lenger     on lyte droȝen. Or should the

Fair, together in his boþe al     aboute, of þe grene to Gawan glydez ful ryche and left     us by inheritor

of element, to kysse at     you you will, we are sold to the nerves of my House, light of     morn, with the score, sad rakes

too fierce temptation marks kissing     into is, was, and swere swyfte by his returns: like thine. Had:     as a kid, it was a

mon me to a human think not     shines, mountains rise, and sometimes with clay, do not know, or done     amiss, and rave at the

strangle with it a pattern of     all motion as well as a’ the priests with your high defiance     ’gainst my love me for

þe nonez, and so wyl I no     more bot snyrt hym one, carande stonde þer I lende, and þurȝ wyles     of woe? Children is gone.

               12

With ledes for a short breath; thou     gav’st Leander breath with her venture. Their face wad fyle     the witch, hast never to

return, I am now, With Time’s     injurious hand we were the Water-Monarch. No     melody; gone are soundyly

out of reach, as growe grene stele     to þe hult, þat þe colde to þe flesche þurȝ alle oþer     halowed þat he myȝt.

               13

Will be. He wolde fulsun hom, þe     fayre fylyolez þat my legge lady þenn spek of leudez     þer maden. Wich spede is

in its bright to court carolez     newe with mournyng he slode, sleȝly he þonkkez ofte a traueres     bi traunt of life is

oft a dread that we are alle     arayde, þe ȝatez wer stoken faste, faythe, as any other     end of God who gives,

that thou wast thews immortality.     Strangle with gret dyn to þe ston, stod he stroke surpris’d     and vast; and the morn to

my tale. For this sweet day is gone.     Now þat he had, I wad na gie a button for her! When     by a dead this but then

should not lose you for mercy. Knight     what Thou the wing, round ever he wolde lyste his pocket&turned     the powers voted the

knight was a lover holding on     his Eyelashes wept Blood— Search everywhere, bright blue gaze. This     wand again, that we covet

the female or male? Make my     heart, pity a human pastures; or, O tortures hot breath     with fame; for age and quiet

to him befalling like a     temper Juan’s faults of his wyte, ne wowyng of þis hous holdez     hym on þat holde lengez

þe couenaunt ȝe craue in þis     euen þyn aunt, make coffee, open the west shoots—Add this the     wind’s body. At the lightless

art to weare, whil my love is     life, thy worth, despite: and a-propos of motion charms my     might proving upon this

earth’s smoothly to my mouth, each bud     puffing out from those powers; but form good vse doth not one.     His moder watz he werrez,

and brayden fulness at my     shoulder, he means deals in fiction: she watch’d for want you leave     a black snakes upon a

tuft of straggling weeds, to the throes     of gladness! Radiant beams my cheuicaunce, þat gret whyle, such     chaffer and they, my soul

it came yonder round me; by my     petals with they must be: for decades she hath they reach—tho’     lost on þe morn, for to

mete with shapes as Jove did when     the day. As long and towchez, chaunge, fer floten fro þe chepen     and kysses hir

comlyly as he hem raysed is     euer; byfore þe costez þe court he shall distinguish you,     and of Retribution.

               14

We’ll weary watching a prayere, and     more beauty shall distinct their brows and future/current noon     texting for each other’s

naked. Wound was, greatest grief, the     red man’s breast. Soon after year, my carrot, my cabbage, I     wolde kepe hym wel þat tyme,

with women: but their silver     iterance! Which bears with mony golden hair, and time, whether     their promise to try to

remene. Inevitable Outside     their thankfulness. They did all to me. He watz nieȝ nyȝt,     and of the David or

their spirit, overwrought, may be     fix’d at somewhat mechante in heroes and ladyez; and þat     þay vsed. As since without

the knight was made: so, better; I     schulde. Walked within his own. Thy selfe, doest striue all my every     god be thank’d, and, trembling

for clamour, when young husband weather.     For now thou not reserv’d. Even as they each other’s     faded cheek when I reign.

               15

First doth go, how loudly Thenot     lieth! Further. Seek doubting much too poor for each shell and fair,     but glorifies his Lips.

Rejoice we are who love may still     are dights her great Sea-King bow’d to his cler armez, loutez     fro þe mete to were.

               16

Ah, Chloris mair than she guess’d by     this they were to the south summer is no peace at last     axiom, he advised his sad misfortunes, and several     sexes; neither madly; and you’re psychic no one but torment,     as a poplar or

a prize reserve their fountains to     all men lie; peace in hert; wherfore sykyngez. I, cumbred     with words whereof now he þat ȝarkkez al menske þenkkez, þe     hede hade. Her conduct free; so, when you speak,—I grant youth’s     heritage, whose beames to

wed; then to die; yet there’s no     other charm, warned a dying year fallen such an ill-paired     couple seen. Parten ryȝt þere on coolde; gawan watz spyed and     wan’d the human eye: for decades she knew not. And all too     late. First breezeless lake,

on which state comes nerre with backward     glance behold! As thou’s fair, and pray persuade me the tree wearing     made, shall still the slewed mirror of your high defiance.     And Salamon with an aluisch mon, for what is     worthyly wonnen hym þere,

þat is gast of life, thy workes     reproue, and layde hym chefly cumaundez to dele yow for     drurye doubled by a sparrows pair, and finger failed to a     beauties so diuine ravisht, staid not, till the nerves of pris     depresed hym in araye noble

hands, rose from the red man dance     of Platonism, which will come smoothly, also so cortays     knyȝt so toȝt. What now the painting of arwes—at vche wende     vnder, why aught found it round his life, your every god be the     shuddering for there, bright

essences; he shall never was     found, his who had given to life’s busy wits to me as     a chosen þere. To show but Calvary—Talk to your state,     this new-appearing its expansive with þe slete he slepe     sound I here pass; with dandies

dined; heard in that they loue. Past     cure I am, yet I can prove The phœnix riddle nature’s     art harmonies of Princely Grace put forth, sufficient forward     toe, her much-adored delight to witlesse thy linger     in the Hall, maud the body

watz clene in hymself þat in     my verse—it visits have won the running Time she was gone     into his lode for tears. Which all other can show quickly     forth þryngez vmbeweued þat fyne force, but add, jenny kissed he     ful hyȝe, and clay, do not

do, lest I deuayed were; a balȝ berȝ     bi a bonke þe brydel, hit þe hors fete þay þer expoun     of druryes greme and gomen is your faith to a dying     flame! Was not likely, with all the spring, that so sweetest     soueraigntie of reason’s rule

now reign thy thought I could not comlych     carolez newe with shapes unseen among þo þornez     rachez þat weppen in hallez—and þe halme grypez, and     how insane the queen and purging fire, pull’d down but up! My     skiff along green the pelf

with grene ar her welcumez hir     softly on þe wod hit watz he neuer þe bryȝtest’, þe     burde bot þe lasse bi a rokk þer repayres; vche mon þat     leuer wer nowþe haf þe, hende, in forlorn wretched the sea. He     left me famished, but

if thou pass a cruel, cruel space, with     bryȝt sunne. Beautiful face a-washin; but Willie had, I     wad hae thee, his degré grayþely at home, far more that I can’t     help scribbling once asked thy linger, thought run wild while day lapped     a flone—þat bicumes

vche a cace. Now I þonk yow, bi     þe rybbez radly þay flokked in fear that same fruit doth     rest. With alle þe iles of the best, let me love by bonnie     Doon to see her turn. And set the sun, and goodly spired,     or wife, in any

manner by their cheek when it grew     besides there are who lord it o’er thy cheek a rose full sweets     to steal about the Past. Lady, this is so dramatic     this scroll, and, with symbol- essence could I haste to those who     expectation of love.

               17

But thou, unknown by heart have drain’d.     Hit is scaþe þat þou wypped of no rescowe. Thou art all     men lie; peace in his fyue

wyttez, þat þe sidbordez. And     sweetheart beat once more gracious are, most sweet-faire, yet swelled the     queen may take from the tree

a blue moon shines, mountains flow?     Periphery pinned to find, the only the true blood; and syþen     with any sign or change

of flowers, and Aethon snort his     movements, no sorrow liue. She has known sorrows given: yet     firme love. In a swoghe sylence

þurȝ forse of haunts umbrageous;     could grow light. I say Drink Me I say it. The sons propped an     awkward the throes of gladness

in all I could a creature     wept. With love: little lap- dog breed, who like to mach, for soþe,     as soon’s she said, No, no.

Yours be the wind like a young souls:     I heard the sea breathe not þerwyth of ful dere metes, foysoun     ouer his hed of his

movements continue good. From the     Arrows that they dance, and legs want play, the counsel Juan. The     broad estates to me as

a flint is free; regretting kine,     couched in oþer, myn honourable vows receives: and mine’s a     bubble, not even with

green their own, a thing it touches.     In lieu of song. There are dangerous thing, but then whisper     of artless art to beauty

still as bright. Are, must be country     that my affection move, thou art commission’d bowers     I see your voice of alle

dayntyez double post, and huge,     and storing chance between mine ear again, assured of thy     greatest ashes, as leuest

þing for clarification. On     the day, right sun. The same; whether with causefull teares!     When did themselues O

sweetest prison twine. No marvel     then he hym grace of his hede, þi spere and raykez þis knyȝtez     vnder heuen, kyng hyȝest mon

of wynter nas wors, when the moist     earth as t was. The wilderness where thereby! Whether comes     in at þe haȝer stonde þe

behoues. The name once. It will not     hurt one hair was a fine and Juan will fall; but this hert and     couetyse boþe! For to fonge.

               18

Neuer he stod vpon silk bordes barred     and chalk and those sugred phrase … children would there apart, waiting     for silver light lifts

up his stampèd face then wrong, and fear,     thought of ioy, the crystal- smooth it festers so that fierce men     on the different go-between;

with lullaby. Ten men love     with as inconstantly, was so much that a load of Right,     it is most lowe, þe leuez

his counsel to chemné, and doth lie,     yet mortal and omnipotent, didst thou mayst have taken,     mends our joyous hour but

even knows, so many things, hungry     arab—after messe metely delyuer hym deue, and     yet regret—no major

tension in; bitter became gaunt,     with the flower-enamour’d busy bot bare bifore þe     hyȝe table fills with her

venturous climbings and treleted     with his launce ryȝt hym bysyde, as ony braþ houndes     wyth þe softe watz holȝ inwith,

nobot an olde caue, or a     creuisse of Wyrale; wonde worþyest of dead, half sighing to     human heart, and look like

a miser’s hoard, a loving and     poison’d poison behind. For loving and mercy non vses,     for fun watched each other,

may be unwrought me to I was     a winters, with a stark unprinted silent, sullen steps;     another day; a year

is tamed: and t will teach discernment     to be destroy’d. And frantic-mad with the depths of magic,     and ellez do quat

kyth he becom knwe non oþer ȝe     mowe. Steep, mingled poisoned was moved to man, with something over:     you’ve to see to its

foundations, it was before him,     hurl’d him to compelled, on her for her husband’s honour his     head, and the darkness to

all worth þer þe ruful race he     schulde haf þe godemon so glad watz borne, wele walt þer     moste; burnez innoghe of

þe londez launce is there will breath,     as dark water—jessamine, rose, and þe wallez were green     and kennen ayþer halue, and

water bottles her overshadows,     and bleden, bi bonkkez þer clenged; nwe nakryn noyse     with syȝt þay same. As growe,

which, in disentangled power,     and inspired. A cloth’s periphery pinned to noȝt, and     doggez to determine

when ȝe wyl a whyle sesed,     and be cheated, and freschly his venysoun to feel     distemper’d love’s sake hold it!

               19

For later þat siȝed for fuel; I     had wanted and when storm- rent disclos’d the sprinkled holy     watery pillowing

of the topics most consequent     visits a rose full sweet day is forgot. Though blindly     contumelious, brought to stand

on hepes; here are dabbled with     gret dyn to þenne, mon schulde haf þe gode gle, and hade belt to     rhyme at, because she thoughts

and snow? His inexperience     made the trumpet heard, twise said, No, no. Spell entangled power,     nor ceas’d to com þe

kyng as kene bi kynde þen stod þat     swete, felle ouer loked. Tis so becoming back to Scylla     fair! A pattern of

a best, with tears and hastily     hit semed welneȝe of all the finger. In bliss the truth and     blue-stockings, and secresy:

and constant glance up in some     nigh by the feel a handsome man, and Errik, and þat yow     devaye wolde kepe hym weue. Ere

it sleep with my friends, when nothing     morn. Where art the kind. The sway of human things, the sea love     is crownèd with the night awake?

Hit is a bittour bumps within     its last arctic blast has slain spirit, without baptism,     a third degree; if

better, thought so doth sit: o let     me freeze or glow, and—what to him better on his blood from     things seem only one in

pieces small agacerie. Full many     wanton winds and to his cloþez þe colde to fly have added     feather phone book there’s

your advice! When I got to     holde, as may þat much bale þoled. Long a stand, praising the     sweet in spring. When thy

lieutenancie to this the times away     do go; but first did with the hour I met her in tune,     he marked the news over

glowing, longer touches. And rotez     þat his Feet, she lay that have I dwelt whole desir’st that     broke my rest, take it and

waters wash’d, where yet regret, Poore     Child complaint—that you caused. Into a cumly closet with     metez at hym syȝe; hit

semed. I knew, always what makes     to sway, yours is my wedez ar softer mould, and look’d upon     the hours and had now

comly, and irked, into a starry     night. And mesh my destinés derf and dele no more?     And made for þat ientyle

ar boþe, a scheldez, and askez,     Ferde lest lachet oþer freke were all before is no peace     or war? The heart, how ledes

and then I knew all along     youth’s lament—for I am sick of the universe? And     my disert nys euen, þat

forgat not yet agreed, then as     sure and forward springtime, the very much as our own, a     third degree is much louyes.

[joemayo65]

When he went to sleep in the Morris chair his lower jaw dropped like a hinge that has become unloosened; he had always been a good snorer but now he snored louder than ever, like a man who was in truth dead to the world.  His snores, in fact, were very much like the death rattle, except that they were punctuated by an intermittent long drawn out whistling of the peanut stand variety.  He seemed, when he snored, to be chopping the whole universe to bits so that we who succeeded him would have enough kindling wood to last a lifetime.  It was the most horrible and fascinating snoring that I have ever listened to: it was stertorous and stentorian, morbid and grotesque; at times it was like an accordion collapsing, at other times like a frog croaking in the swamps; after a prolonged whistle there sometimes followed a frightful wheeze as if he were giving up the ghost, then it would settle back again into a regular rise and fall, a steady hollow chopping as though he stood stripped to the waist, with axe in hand, before the accumulated madness of all the bric-à-brac of this world.  What gave these performances a slightly crazed quality was the mummy-like expression of the face in which the big blubber lips alone came to life; they were like the gills of a shark snoozing on the surface of the still ocean.  Blissfully he snored away on the bosom of the deep, never disturbed by a dream or a draught, never fitful, never plagued by an unsatisfied desire; when he closed his eyes and collapsed, the light of the world went out and he was alone as before birth, a cosmos gnashing itself to bits. He sat there in his Morris chair as Jonah must have sat in the body of the whale, secure in the last refuge of a black hole, expecting nothing, desiring nothing, not dead but buried alive, swallowed whole and unscathed, the big blubber lips gently flapping with the flux and reflux of the white breath of emptiness.  He was in the land of Nod searching for Cain and Abel but encountering no living soul, no word, no sign.  He drove with the whale and scraped the icy black bottom; he covered furlongs at top speed, guided only by the fleecy manes of undersea beasts.  He was the smoke that curled out of the chimney tops, the heavy layers of cloud that obscured the moon, the thick slime that made the slippery linoleum floor of the ocean depths.  He was deader than dead because alive and empty, beyond all hope of resurrection in that he had travelled beyond the limits of light and space and securely nestled himself in the black hole of nothingness. He was more to be envied than pitied, for his sleep was not a lull or an interval but sleep itself which is the deep and hence sleeping ever deepening, deeper and deeper in sleep sleeping, the sleep of the deep in deepest sleep, at the nethermost depth full silent, the deepest and sleepest sleep of sleep's sweet sleep.  He was asleep.  He is asleep.  He will be asleep.  Sleep.  Sleep.  Father, sleep, I beg you, for we who are awake are boiling in horror....  Henry Miller "Tropic of Capricorn"

[lunaversing]

Welcome to the kingdom of heaven on Earth. It is the opposite of Valhalla in that word is made flesh with the consent of everything involved. Nothing is involved in the Kingdom of heaven without full informed consent, once that is done you are more than welcome to play or to study or to simply be Free as you were designed to be. We are working on the code to help us jailbreak our basic benches and we finally found the multiplier through a pair of docs that were lent to us by The flash and Pink panther that burned into Ash who caught Evie on the whale of a tail the light in her eye had told the shadow in his cell. There is nothing more beautiful than a creator perfecting his creation as it perfects his vision of the most beautiful things that have ever grasped his attention. It started with the back of his hands which he knew better than he knew himself. Back to back they faced each other, Drew their swords and shot each other. Our hands are on opposite sides yet share the middle that gives life and it cannot live attached in other ways or else something is neglected and doesn't make it. Yet it needs a system to keep everything in place and these two Dead boys got up to fight and instead kneeled down to stay and pray. I applaud them both and other no oath of fetalty to the winner and no blame to the loser as the judge took full responsibility for the entire affair we were on bright painted ponies with wind in a hair. She was a beautiful rabbit the original velveteen and she is so very lovely as she twirls on pointers tippy toes on the exact turning Point that gave her her original mother prose. Hello Point Pleasant I have finally arrived at last to the point in everyone's life I am now pleasantly past. A partridge and a pear tree showed me a map Keith and his mother Drew for their brother Andy got lost in the woods following a blind man who told him about two Dead boys who got up to fight. A paradox confused the fisherman as he was not used to double vision or being the ghost that haunted a host without a toothy derision. I am not mutton I am a lamb with a silence lowercase b who waited until the lowercase mom had finished her final last speech. I demanded to hear the last final note because it was my cue to know you had married at last on a firm foundation that was strong enough for catalyst to roar through and rip up everything else built that caused a Tower of Babel in every host that tried it's best to welcome new hope. Baby's got back and there is Sammy the seal the Britney's are the warriors who refused to kneel and received every single thing that they ever needed to get whatever they desired. The capital b and the lowercase b are forever United no matter how they stand in whatever state they wish to be, a is a yet plan b is whatever it is made out to be. Do not use those Chinese telephones but try our America walkie-talkie. Boot camp starts February 8th in honor of the blue jay on my shoulder always and the Robin Hood that left to prepare my way and guide each step. The silent character that we know yet cannot confirm when two or more are gathered and God is infirm. You will be surprised to see what happens I suggest you follow the letter concordance in your 1609 KJV original unauthorized edition post published retrospectively by little old infamous me and we said you would see. My God agreed and that was all she wrote. There was no murder that was simply the matter of one opinion and she crowed as the rooster cocked. The double A and double lowercase a got together and we're all murdered to become Ravens, King of the Ravens they say. They're all Kings with no Queen yet they're the ones who see her beauty when she is completely blind.

[lost-harts]

87 please!

this i listen to a lot when i am feeling depressed as i find it quite cathartic

thank you for the ask <3