#symphony 3

[aschenblumen]

Ludwig van Beethoven, Symphony nº 3 «Eroica», op. 55 (II. Marcia funebre). Jordi Savall, director

[mochilly]

(💿) ᵎᵎ GAMES CDS PNG PACK. ୨୧

— Like or reblog if saving/using .

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lan Wangji Goes To Lotus Pier AU: Part 3: Enveloping Feelings.

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 4 (soon))

[ashinaisshin]

Castle Keep・Castlevania: Symphony of the Night (1997), dev. Konami

[c0nn0rsseur]

It’s our last chance

To forgive ourselves

[spookieloop]

I love the thought of a pre-tadpole Durge X Gortash relationship dynamic where, instead of JUST being incredibly toxic, Gortash actually made them a (marginally) better person.

I am just obsessed with the idea of Faerun’s antichrist being swayed not to begin a fucking APOCALYPSE out of sheer admiration for a certain tyrant.

And I love that tyrant becoming worse when he realizes that the Scion of Bhaal himself will kill for him. Anyone he wants. He has but to say the word.

That would go to Gortash’s head SO fast, I can feel it.

Especially when he realized that, more than killing, he could convince Durge NOT to kill.

TELL ME that man would not get a big ego when he told the SCION OF BHAAL “Don’t kill this person, the plan works best with them alive” AND THE DARK URGE STAYS THEIR HAND.

He would KNOW that their oath not to harm him is in direct opposition to Bhaal’s plan.

At the end of the day, Gortash is worse for having known Durge because of the INTENSE ego boost of having Bhaal’s Scion love him.

And at the end of that same day, The Dark Urge, Bhaal’s Chosen World Ender, chose Gortash over the apocalypse.

Which makes it INCREDIBLY juice if, after the Death of Gortash, Durge decides to take the world for Bhaal after all.

[restingcorpse]

[happyheidi]

𝖲𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖲𝗒𝗆𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗇𝗂𝖾𝗌 - 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖦𝗈𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖲𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝟣𝟫𝟥𝟦

[starduststorm-art]

One last drawing of 2023!

16 years of Kagamine and 15 years of Daughter of Evil 🧡💛🌹

[jimmawww]

Fave Save Points

Resident Evil

Daymare: 1994 Sandcastle

Ico

Shadow of the Colossus

Silent Hill 3

Signalis

No More Heroes

Metroid Prime

Ape Escape

Nier: Automata

Dark Souls

Metal Gear Solid

Tunic

Kingdom Hearts 2

Cave Story

Tales of Symphonia

Castlevania: Symphony of the Night

Little Witch Nobeta

Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones

GTA: San Andreas

Undertale

OneShot

Hollow Knight

Need For Speed: Rivals

Onirism

F.I.S.T.

Dust

Earthbound (worst)

[yuri-is-online]

I also like to add some angst into this AU with how Yuu can’t believe in soulmates/can’t feel all ranges of the feelings, of love, or even a little of them, because they are magic-less/from another world

( ͡º ꒳ ͡º) I am so glad you see my vision

I'm not big on writing unrequited feelings, or one-sided soul mates! But I do like adding doubt. Personally, I think these kinds of AUs can be so of boring when they take the road that just getting to meet the soul mate guarantees the relationship will be successful. Being bound to someone by the deepest, unspoken part of yourself should be terrifying. The work and choice it takes to maintain a relationship shouldn't go away because of the bond, it should be intensified by it. I have mentioned the Wayhaven Chronicles here before (it's an interactive fiction about vampires) but I really like the author's take on soulmates/soul bonds as she has been expanding on them in her series so for my own au I'm going to take some inspiration from that.

Just because Yuu feels the soul bond doesn't mean they know what it is, or want it for that matter. It's inconvenient, they don't want to date someone and form a deep connection that will tempt them to stay and abandon their home. I like your suggestion that because they are magicless they can't feel the full range of emotion the bond causes σ(￣、￣=) I like the idea of them just mistaking it for normal attraction and not something that will leave both them and the other person in deep pain if it's severed. And Yuu might be the sort of person who doesn't believe in soulmates for that matter! They might be resistant to it, angry that they are in love and angry that they can't go home. No matter what happens they're losing something irreplaceable.

The soul bond places more strain on the boys because of their magic, so they are more aware of it's presence and more effected by the desire to be close to Yuu at all times. I could see the magic trying to make up for Yuu's inability to feel the full range of emotion by pulling on him harder, desperate to be realized. My original angsty thoughts sort of teetered towards the yandere spectrum, as I could see a scenario where a truly delusional person thought that because they had this soul bond with Yuu that made whatever life they had in their world irrelevant. Clearly they were supposed to be in Twisted Wonderland all along, there's no reason for them to go back and he has a personal vendetta against whoever cause you to be trapped in a different dimension than him in the first place... but in the reverse since I am cooking something for Rollo atm and have him on the mind, I think he would try to accompany Yuu back to their world. He could see his bond to Yuu as a sign they are a benevolent spirit meant to guide him to a world without magic... I could also see someone coming to resent Yuu since they were happy not having a soulmate. They're vulnerable now, and they somehow can't bring themselves to hate Yuu because the more they try the deeper they fall in love with them so they just end up hating themselves.

There is much potential for angst in soulmate aus without making the feelings reciprocated hehehe

[wishcamper]

Nessian Week Day 3 - Symphony

For the third day of @nessianweek, here's a sweet lil snip of post-canon domestic Nessian.

Photo is of Old Town in Dubrovnik, Croatia, which is how I always picture Velaris.

Read here or on ao3!

Five More Minutes

Post-ACOSF slice of life of Nesta enjoying the sounds of the morning (and avoiding getting up).

’T is you that are the music, not your song. The song is but a door which, opening wide, Lets forth the pent-up melody inside, Your spirit’s harmony, which clear and strong Sing but of you. 

- 'Listening', Amy Lowell

—-

Dawn breaks, cresting the mountains, light spilling over the world. Velaris comes alive in fits and starts, and the harbor bell clangs as sailors bring in their first catch of the day, gulls crying out their envy overhead. The world is waking around her, but Nesta keeps her eyes closed beneath the heavy coverlet. Her stubbornness refuses to entertain the day, not yet.

Cassian seems to agree, though he’ll never admit it. A groan rumbles somewhere behind her, incoherent mumblings of her mate rousing, emerging from the depths of sleep into the day. Nesta hears the slide of sheets, a rustle of wings, then a muffling as he drapes one over her, cocooned for a moment while he presses closer and noises of lazy contentment fill her ear.

He’s warm, always, a furnace in their bed. They both remember the cold too well to sleep any way but right up next to each other, especially on mornings like this, when the air inside carries the chill of late autumn.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he says, his deep voice thick and fuzzy.

She pretends to be asleep, partly because she wishes she still was, but mostly to draw this out as long as possible. To hear the sweet murmurings Cassian pours over her when he believes her most unguarded, when he tries to reach her dreams.

A broad hand strokes up her side, coming to rest across her stomach. Careful, so as not to wake her. “Fuck, you smell good. And you're so soft. I’m so lucky to wake up next to you.”

Words she’d roll her eyes at in the day, especially if someone else were to overhear, pretty declarations easy enough to toss like flower petals. But in seclusion they manage to travel the distance between his lips and her ear without losing their potency, and Nesta feels them sink in, loosening a muscle in her shoulder.

“Beautiful Nes. You’re so precious to me.”

Cassian holds her for a bit longer, and she listens to the steady tide of his breath so slow and even. It’s punctuated every now and then by his sighs of pleasure, evidence of the way she softens him too in this quiet, liminal place that’s only theirs. 

After a time he rises, the bed’s creaking followed by a thump of the House producing his training leathers. Water runs in the bathing chamber, a splash in the sink, then the scrape of a comb through unruly hair before the endless series of clasps and buckles. Nesta can picture in her mind where each one sits, the high ping of the clip at his shoulder, hard snaps at his sides where the back panel secures to accommodate his wings. Cassian hums under his breath as he dresses, some tune she can’t place, though it might’ve drifted from her symphonia sometime the evening before. The well-worn sofa groans when he sits to don his boots.

The sequence is the same most mornings, but memories still haunt Nesta in these moments of ease, phantoms skulking about in her periphery. It’s hard to forget how she used to wake all at once, like an arrow shot through the morning air, to the cacophony of her mother screeching at a house servant. Or else the horrible quiet that followed, the dense void of her absence.

She woke mustily in the summer in the hovel they called home, the drone of insects and the rank, still air, Elain’s trowel piercing the earth under the windowsill. In colder months there was nothing but the roar of the wind, whistles through the chinks, the grind of her own teeth from trying not to shiver.

All of it was better than waking in the dead of night to Feyre’s pleading, heavy thuds of the clubs and bone crunching, their father’s wretched silence. Then years later the door splintering, the growling of a great beast.

At the funeral for her old life she woke to the rip of curtains around her bed, shouts and taunts as they yanked her drowsy and disoriented from the sheets, from the manor, from her body. Then the fatal press of water in her ears, poison boiling, her own choked snarls of rage.

After that came a long series of mornings that were not actually mornings at all, afternoons when she rose sticky with sweat, a pounding headache like war drums rattling her skull. Days she prayed to stop hearing the snap of her father’s neck in the fire, the ghosts of the past wailing for retribution. Nights when solace lived only in the shuffle of cards, the glug of wine into a waiting glass. The moans of another faceless male.

Yet even in the darkness there was music. Ever since she was a girl, a tune plays at the edge of her dreams that she can’t quite catch, can never quite remember. Always the same, always soft and close, as if someone lays beside her, filling her with safety and peace.

Now the world is quiet, within and without. Nesta barely notices she’s drifted back into sleep, so she’s surprised when heavy footsteps approach her side of the bed. There’s a clink when the House places a cup and saucer on the bedside table, tea she knows will stay perfectly warm until she’s ready to rise herself. Her legs shift, whispering against the sheets as they search for the heated spot Cassian always leaves behind.

“You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, brushing stray hairs from her forehead. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

She hears the smile in his voice, the tenderness he saves just for her. The kisses he drops on her face are like the patter of spring rain, his rumbling laugh the answering thunder when she presses her cheek against his lips so she can really feel them.

Her fae ears pick up conversation in the hallway, Azriel and Gwyn either coming or going, though it’s impossible to tell which. Cassian’s leathers creak as he sits up but she feels him linger there, the rasp of a calloused hand stroking up and down her back. 

“I hope you have a good day. I love you.”

He traces the point of her ear, tugging lightly at the lobe before he stands and his footsteps retreat. Then the snick of the door, their friends greeting him on the landing, Emerie’s voice now joining the chorus.

She doesn’t ever want to stop listening to this, Nesta thinks, these sounds of home. Dawn chases away the phantoms and no one screeches or pleads or drowns in silence. All is in harmony, now the music of her life feels worth waking to hear.

In the moment before her eyes open, a tune floats by from the edge of her dreams, the same one Cassian was humming. It sounds as if someone is beside her in bed, soft, and close.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

i love haircuts. i cant stop petting the back of my skull

[kale-theteaqueen]

Symphonic Surprises

---

Cassian loves to spoil his wife, even if the opportunities were rare, and The Dawn Court's music conservatory seemed like the perfect place.

A simple drabble of sheer, unbridled fluff for @nessianweek 2024 Day 3: Symphony

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Tag List: @c-e-d-dreamer @podemechamardek @talkfantasytome @moodymelanist @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @doriansgf @eerievixen @sweet-pea1 @thewayshedreamed @agents-assemble @jsmelodies @aelinchocolatelover @unlikelypersonalknight1 @slipknotvol3 @stylishmuser @lady-winter-sunrise @bri-loves-sunflowers @misswonderflower @acourtofladydeath @natasharomxnov @unhealthyfanobsession

[magebomb]

i'm just a girl 💅🎶