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sammysdewysensitiveeyes · 2 years ago

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Sabretooth and the Exiles #5 - Too much Sabretooth, not enough Exiles.

I'm sure it's weird to say that about a book where he is literally the title character, but I am only reading this book for the Exiles and Victor LaValle, Creed himself can get thrown into the sun for all I care.

The main Exiles group gets dragged down into a research chamber under the sea where six super-powered babies are freaking out:

Apparently the babies react badly to any adult coming near them, due to Orchis torturing them. Nanny has a plan! Maybe not a good plan, but a plan!

And it works! Nanny reduces everyone except herself to a childlike mental state, and this calms the mutant babies. This picture is so adorable, I love Oya hugging the teddy bear. And I love Third Eye's pose, like he's not holding a toy or anything, but that is a very child-like expression and way of sitting.

Of course, Nanny has a part 2 to her plan:

Nanny and Peter stay behind with the babies, I'm sure Nanny raising six extremely powerful infants will be totally fine and not cause any problems at all. I'm really loving Nekra in this series, btw, she really seems to want to take care of people, and is embracing a more heroic, leader role.

Meanwhile, Sabretooth fights Graydon Creed, who has been killing Sabretooths across the multiverse, with the help of a few AU counterparts. Graydon gets tossed into the multiverse portal, which puts him out of play for now, and Sabretooth makes plans with his counterparts to raid Krakoa, and specifically go after Wolverine. Oh, and he now has a whole army of headless Sabretooths that he can control via remote, because that's what Graydon did with all the dead Daddy Creeds. This best part of this storyline is the Re-animator joke:

We leave the Exiles in an uncertain state. Sabretooth is doing his own thing, and they are now on a ship with about a thousand mutants that they have pledged to look after. And they are presumably not going back to Krakoa, even though the mutant refugees would easily be accepted there. (Heck, the Exiles themselves might be welcomed back for rescuing so many kidnapped mutants, even though they haven't stopped Creed yet.)

A data page suggests that they will settle in a swamp, and that Sabretooth will come back in a very big and bad way. I think there is one more mini coming after this:

I'm probably not the best person to read this series, given that I really despise Sabretooth, but I think LaValle does a good job of writing him as a villain protagonist. You can kind of root for him while he's being tortured by Orchis, or fighting Graydon Creed, and he is instrumental in rescuing all the kidnapped mutants, but he's clearly not a hero. Not even really an anti-hero. There's no redemption suggested for Creed, and he clearly doesn't care about the Exiles or the refugee mutants, they are just tools for him to use. I expect he'll play a role in Fall of X, when he presumably attacks Krakoa.

I think LaValle also has done a good job in this series of using Nanny and Peter, even though they weren't part of his original group and came into the pit via Hellions. Nanny is a fun, even sympathetic character (especially when she threatens to shank Sinister), but she's also dangerous and not entirely trustworthy. Like, maybe Nanny will show up in the next series with her six incredibly powerful mutant babies and save the day, but she could also just cause complete chaos. Peter seems to be starting to distrust her as well, a rift that started back in Hellions; it'll be interesting if he decides to leave her and join the Exiles group.

I also liked the use of Toad so far, another character tossed in the pit from another series. He hasn't done much, but I appreciated him seeing through Sabretooth's bullshit last issue, when Creed was giving a manipulative and self-serving speech to all the refugee mutants, trying to turn them into his own little army. Toad's got a lot of experience being fanatically devoted to a leader, and I'd like to see him be the voice of reason.

To be honest, my biggest fear is that Toad might get killed off, and not resurrected, and the fact that he got framed and condemned to the Pit as an innocent man will not be acknowledged in any other comic, or at best will be a brief scene where Wanda or a resurrected Magneto express some regret over Toad's fate then quickly gloss over it, because Toad's innocence is really Williams' plot point, it's not something that any other writer seems to want to deal with. Even LaValle hasn't really gotten into it, but I don't really blame him, it's Williams' mess, and he's just finding ways to use Toad in his cast. Technically you could say Toad's innocence doesn't really matter - ALL of the Exiles got screwed over in some way, and none of them really deserve to be outcast from Krakoa. (Except Sabretooth, yes he was also screwed over, yes that's the whole point of the series, but he's such a vicious, destructive piece of shit, it's fine to keep him away. At least most of the other villains have been willing to play nice.) But Toad is the one who really sticks in my craw, because it was so badly done in ToM, because this character who has always been treated like garbage got sacrificed as a pawn in the scheme of two more "important" and more conventionally attractive mutants, and neither have them have lifted a finger to help Toad, and Williams seems to think that was just fine and dandy. I really, really want there to be a reckoning for Toad, ideally one where he is still alive.

This book had better not touch Oya, Nekra or Third Eye, either.

Madison appears to still be "dead," but given the way he died, I fully expect that he'll come back in the next series. Either he'll have downloaded his consciousness into the ship, or he'll have found a way to create a body out of inorganic material. In the first series, when the group was manifesting themselves around Krakoa, Madison was talking about how a body made of micro-plastics felt "right" to him, so I half-expect we'll see Micro-plastic Jeffries rising out of the ocean.

Damn, this wound up being a lot.

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sananaryon · 7 months ago

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Have to disagree. Just because the Knights Moralis haven't done anything as bad as the brimhats yet does not mean we aren't encouraged to view them as an antagonistic faction. I agree that the judgement of the peeping tom with no due process isn't really shown as negatively as it maybe should be but this?

(I got this from the scanlation, in the official version they straight up threaten with a "response, if you catch my drift" all but stating that they would wipe her memories)

The Knights Moralis here are threatening a child because she wanted to help, just because they are stopped from doing anything drastic does not mean they aren't shown to be evil in doing this.

And if it was just this you might have a point, but this comes very shortly after Galga attacks a man without just cause, Luluci attemps the harshest punishment of the law without due process, and shortly before Easthies attacks his mentor because she wanted to be reasonable for once.

With the singular exception of arresting Engendil and the pervert (and even the latter of those is a bit suspect), the Knights Moralis are always shown to be draconian fanatics.

witch hat atelier thrives on showing that both sides have a point but are taking their ideologies too far. We have had the Brimhats make reasonable points admidst their blatant villainy (largely in the form of Coustas), so of course the Knights Moralis are going to have a couple moments where they do good because the principle they follow is not in itself evil just like the brimhats isn't either, it's the draconican and extreme way they approach it.

I truly empathize with Shirahama’s instinct to give the sex crime enthusiasts a cathartic, lawful smackdown in both versions of ch. 49, but it’s absolutely a self-indulgent power fantasy that runs counter to the main insight of Lulucy’s backstory (i.e. that rape culture is pervasive, systemic, and propped up largely by authority figures who make light of it). The volume version is far worse in this regard, totally shifting the narrative from “Lulucy felt disempowered by society until she became a witch cop who could legally smack predators around” to “Lulucy was saved from her predator-apologist teacher by the cool and righteous witch cops, who are immune to the corruption of rape culture for some reason.�� I don’t mind that WHA presents a fantasy world in which law enforcement follows its own rules to the letter (in truth, any police/surveillance institution with unchecked memory wipe powers wouldn’t be going around Righteously Punishing Sex Criminals so much as they would be Doing Most Of The Sex Crimes), because it usually makes very clear that the rules themselves are the problem; but this time, the audience is encouraged to indulge in the fantasy of punitive justice and to ignore the fact that criminal witches have no civil rights like it’s an episode of Law & Order SVU.

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luxicides · 2 years ago

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a femcel's guide to films ˖⁺ ⋆ ୭

hi. 2022 is (sadly? thankfully?) coming to a close - and i've watched quite a number of films this year. i think.

and, as a ~film student~, i think it only fitting that i ever so kindly share with you, fellow tumblr user, the top 10 most female manipulator lana del rey gone girl jennifers body effy stonem girlblogger2008 manic pixie dream girl movies i've watched so far.

if you're anything like me (read: anxiety-riddled, deftones listener, lana del rey fanatic, pinterest addict), perhaps you'd find these films enjoyable.

(don't take this too seriously. but do. because my taste is great. kidding.)

the virgin suicides (1999) dir. sofia coppola

girl, interrupted (1999) dir. james mangold

black swan (2010) dir. darren aronofsky

gone girl (2014) dir. david fincher

ginger snaps (2000) dir. john fawcett

palo alto (2013) dir. gia coppola

buffalo '66 (1998) dir. vincent gallo

ex machina (2014) dir. alex garland

sucker punch (2011) dir. zack snyder

birds of paradise (2021) dir. sarah adina smith

i'm aware this list is very basic and really that's because i'm just a bad film student. lol.

this list is not in any way serious - this part, however, is (ish).

as much as we all love categorising media into neat little aesthetic categories à la tiktok and its constant outpour of increasingly niche aesthetics, whittling films and really any piece of media into just an aesthetic is, honestly, kind of strange.

yes, films can have elements that are inherently aesthetic. and, yes, tone and vibe does contribute heavily to a film's quality. but a film is so much more than just that.

i'm aware that a vast majority of people don't actually watch a film for solely its visual aestheticism. and i don't mean to attack anyone who watches a film simply because they are attracted to its aesthetic quality. i'd be lying if i said i haven't done that either.

okay, i give up on pseudo-analysis. i don't really know where this is going. i guess that's it from me.

xoxo

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istumpysk · 3 years ago

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Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ASOS: Tyrion VIII (Chapter 60)

This is the only long Tyrion chapter I will tolerate.

As Renly's widow, she might have worn the Baratheon colors, gold and black, yet she came to them a Tyrell, in a maiden's cloak made of a hundred cloth-of-gold roses sewn to green velvet. He wondered if she really was a maiden. Not that Joffrey is like to know the difference.

Newsflash George, nobody on planet earth would know the difference.

+.+.+

The sleepless night he'd spent with Shae was making itself felt too, but most of all he wanted to strangle his bloody royal nephew.

He won't stop foreshadowing an event until the very moment it happens.

+.+.+

The septons were always going on about how the Father Above judges us all. If the Father would be so good as to topple over and crush Joff like a dung beetle, I might even believe it.

Sure, then you next.

Hey, at least he didn't become a religious fanatic after.

+.+.+

He remembered a cold morning when he'd climbed down the steep exterior steps from Winterfell's library to find Prince Joffrey jesting with the Hound about killing wolves. Send a dog to kill a wolf, he said.

Those dogs haven't had a great showing so far.

+.+.+

When the wedding song had been sung and the challenge had gone unanswered, it was time for the exchange of cloaks. Tyrion shifted his weight from one stunted leg to the other, trying to see between his father and his uncle Kevan. If the gods are just, Joff will make a hash of this. He made certain not to look at Sansa, lest his bitterness show in his eyes. You might have knelt, damn you. Would it have been so bloody hard to bend those stiff Stark knees of yours and let me keep a little dignity?

Queens don't kneel, shithead.

+.+.+

Good, that's done with. Now let's get back to the bloody castle so I can have a piss.

Rest in peace castle.

+.+.+

After the royal couple followed Queen Cersei and Lord Tyrell, then the bride's mother arm-in-arm with Lord Tywin. The Queen of Thorns tottered after them with one hand on Ser Kevan Lannister's arm and the other on her cane, her twin guardsmen close behind her in case she fell.

I submit to the court evidence of Olenna Tyrell lacking mobility.

+.+.+

They stepped out into the crisp autumn air. "I feared we'd never escape," Tyrion quipped.

[...]

"Would that I'd contrived some mission to take me out of the city. Littlefinger was the clever one."

We mustn't forget to foreshadow the aftermath.

Littlefinger is more clever than you realize.

What am I saying, you know 98% of it.

+.+.+

As they lurched into motion, Tyrion reclined on an elbow while Sansa sat staring at her hands. She is just as comely as the Tyrell girl. Her hair was a rich autumn auburn, her eyes a deep Tully blue. Grief had given her a haunted, vulnerable look; if anything, it had only made her more beautiful. He wanted to reach her, to break through the armor of her courtesy. Was that what made him speak? Or just the need to distract himself from the fullness in his bladder?

Being more attracted to a child because of their grief and misery is certainly something.

+.+.+

"It would please me to show you the Golden Gallery and the Lion's Mouth, and the Hall of Heroes where Jaime and I played as boys. You can hear thunder from below where the sea comes in . . ."

lion's mouth. mouth.

mouth.

+.+.+

"I shall go wherever my lord husband wishes."

"I had hoped it might please you, my lady."

"It will please me to please my lord."

His mouth tightened. What a pathetic little man you are. Did you think babbling about the Lion's Mouth would make her smile? When have you ever made a woman smile but with gold?

God it's so funny how badly she wrecks him with courtesy.

+.+.+

Oldtown, perhaps. Or even the Free Cities. He had always had a yen to see the Titan of Braavos. Perhaps that would please Sansa. Gently, he spoke of Braavos, and met a wall of sullen courtesy as icy and unyielding as the Wall he had walked once in the north. It made him weary. Then and now.

I like the idea of a Wall protecting Sansa from his advances. :)

+.+.+

Mace Tyrell had been heard complaining that Lord Tywin had left no victories for him.

The author is either telling us Mace Tyrell is strategically not risking his men, or the author is telling us to look forward to House Tyrell being slaughtered in a field.

Tyrion had to bite his tongue at that. Robb Stark had won more battles in a year than the Lord of Highgarden had in twenty. Tyrell's reputation rested on one indecisive victory over Robert Baratheon at Ashford, in a battle largely won by Lord Tarly's van before the main host had even arrived. - Tyrion III, ASOS

+.+.+

Shae was helping Sansa with her hair when they entered the bedchamber. Joy and grief, he thought when he beheld them there together. Laughter and tears. Sansa wore a gown of silvery satin trimmed in vair, with dagged sleeves that almost touched the floor, lined in soft purple felt. Shae had arranged her hair artfully in a delicate silver net winking with dark purple gemstones. Tyrion had never seen her look more lovely, yet she wore sorrow on those long satin sleeves. "Lady Sansa," he told her, "you shall be the most beautiful woman in the hall tonight."

Silver and purple, our little pretend Targaryen on her way to a wedding.

+.+.+

Tyrion led Sansa around the yard, to perform the necessary courtesies.

She is good at this, he thought, as he watched her tell Lord Gyles that his cough was sounding better, compliment Elinor Tyrell on her gown, and question Jalabhar Xho about wedding customs in the Summer Isles. His cousin Ser Lancel had been brought down by Ser Kevan, the first time he'd left his sickbed since the battle. He looks ghastly. Lancel's hair had turned white and brittle, and he was thin as a stick. Without his father beside him holding him up, he would surely have collapsed. Yet when Sansa praised his valor and said how good it was to see him getting strong again, both Lancel and Ser Kevan beamed. She would have made Joffrey a good queen and a better wife if he'd had the sense to love her.

Correct.

+.+.+

"You do look quite exquisite, child," Lady Olenna Tyrell told Sansa when she tottered up to them in a cloth-of-gold gown that must have weighed more than she did.

I submit to the court evidence of Olenna Tyrell lacking mobility.

+.+.+

"The wind has been at your hair, though." The little old woman reached up and fussed at the loose strands, tucking them back into place and straightening Sansa's hair net. "I was very sorry to hear about your losses," she said as she tugged and fiddled. "Your brother was a terrible traitor, I know, but if we start killing men at weddings they'll be even more frightened of marriage than they are presently. There, that's better." Lady Olenna smiled. "I am pleased to say I shall be leaving for Highgarden the day after next. I have had quite enough of this smelly city, thank you. Perhaps you would like to accompany me for a little visit, whilst the men are off having their war? I shall miss my Margaery so dreadfully, and all her lovely ladies. Your company would be such sweet solace."

Hands off, lady.

Olenna Tyrell has been ignoring Sansa since the moment she married Tyrion. She appears to have had a change of heart, and once again wants Sansa at Highgarden.

They're not just killing Joffrey. The plan is to kill Joffrey and eliminate Tyrion.

if we start killing men at weddings they'll be even more frightened of marriage than they are presently

Funny woman.

+.+.+

"Oh? Forgive a silly old woman, my lord, I did not mean to steal your lovely wife.

Someone's going to beat you.

+.+.+

"To be sure. Dragons and stags, that's very clever. And dwarf's pennies as well. I have heard of these dwarf's pennies. No doubt collecting those is such a dreadful chore."

"I leave the collecting to others, my lady."

"Oh, do you? I would have thought you might want to tend to it yourself. We can't have the crown being cheated of its dwarf's pennies, now. Can we?"

"Gods forbid." Tyrion was beginning to wonder whether Lord Luthor Tyrell had ridden off that cliff intentionally. "If you will excuse us, Lady Olenna, it is time we were in our places."

"Myself as well. Seventy-seven courses, I daresay. Don't you find that a bit excessive, my lord? I shan't eat more than three or four bites myself, but you and I are very little, aren't we?" She patted Sansa's hair again and said, "Well, off with you, child, and try to be merrier.

At first I thought she was mocking him, but now I'm seeing nervous rambling.

+.+.+

Now where have my guardsmen gone? Left, Right, where are you? Come help me to the dais."

I submit to the court evidence of Olenna Tyrell lacking mobility.

+.+.+

The Queen of Thorns followed them in, shuffling along with tiny little steps. Tyrion wondered which of them looked more absurd, him with Sansa or the wizened little woman between her seven-foot-tall twin guardsmen.

I submit to the court evidence of Olenna Tyrell lacking mobility.

(You don't accidentally keep showcasing how apprehensive she is when walking.)

+.+.+

He and Sansa had been seated far to the king's right, beside Ser Garlan Tyrell and his wife, the Lady Leonette. A dozen others sat closer to Joffrey, which a pricklier man might have taken for a slight, given that he had been the King's Hand only a short time past. Tyrion would have been glad if there had been a hundred.

At no point in this chapter is it ever made clear where Olenna Tyrell is sitting. You'll see it's not important.

+.+.+

"Let the cups be filled!" Joffrey proclaimed, when the gods had been given their due. His cupbearer poured a whole flagon of dark Arbor red into the golden wedding chalice that Lord Tyrell had given him that morning.

They're drinking Arbor red during the ceremony.

+.+.+

Sansa tasted a spoonful of soup and pushed the bowl away. "Not to your liking, my lady?" Tyrion asked.

"There's to be so much, my lord. I have a little tummy."

+.+.+

She fiddled nervously with her hair and looked down the table to where Joffrey sat with his Tyrell queen.

Does she wish it were her in Margaery's place? Tyrion frowned. Even a child should have better sense. He turned away, wanting distraction, but everywhere he looked were women, fair fine beautiful happy women who belonged to other men.

Here comes the jealousy.

+.+.+

And there was one woman, sitting almost at the foot of the third table on the left . . . the wife of one of the Fossoways, he thought, and heavy with his child. Her delicate beauty was in no way diminished by her belly, nor was her pleasure in the food and frolics. Tyrion watched as her husband fed her morsels off his plate. They drank from the same cup, and would kiss often and unpredictably. Whenever they did, his hand would gently rest upon her stomach, a tender and protective gesture.

...

I know why he's seeing this, and I'm sure if you take a second you can figure it out too.

+.+.+

Margaery, of course, smiling sweetly as she and Joffrey shared a drink from the great seven-sided wedding chalice.

Olenna Tyrell, you are a reckless woman.

+.+.+

Hamish left them, his place taken by a smallish elderly bear who danced clumsily to pipe and drum while the wedding guests ate trout cooked in a crust of crushed almonds.

I'm not even going to try.

+.+.+

Collio began with his version of "The Dance of the Dragons," which was more properly a song for two singers, male and female.

Hahahaha.

+.+.+

"The singers. Which did you prefer?"

"I . . . I'm sorry, my lord. I was not listening."

She was not eating, either. "Sansa, is aught amiss?" He spoke without thinking, and instantly felt the fool. All her kin are slaughtered and she's wed to me, and I wonder what's amiss.

"No, my lord." She looked away from him, and feigned an unconvincing interest in Moon Boy pelting Ser Dontos with dates.

He's terrible at reading her, eh?

She's not feigning interest. She's not listening to the singers (red flag, Tyrion) because she's completely preoccupied with Dontos.

+.+.+

Four master pyromancers conjured up beasts of living flame to tear at each other with fiery claws whilst the serving men ladeled out bowls of blandissory

What kind of beasts? Dragons?

+.+.+

Then came some strolling pipers and clever dogs and sword swallowers, with buttered pease, chopped nuts, and slivers of swan poached in a sauce of saffron and peaches. ("Not swan again," Tyrion muttered, remembering his supper with his sister on the eve of battle.)

Apparently swans are a bad omen for Tyrion.

Side note, George went almost two books never using parentheses. Now he can't stop.

+.+.+

The drummer began a slow ominous beat.

Lord Walder raised a hand, and the music stopped, all but one drum. - Catelyn VII, ASOS

+.+.+

"It is the song of the Blackwater, and how a realm was saved." The drummer began a slow ominous beat.

"The dark lord brooded high in his tower," Galyeon began, "in a castle as black as the night."

"Black was his hair and black was his soul," the musicians chanted in unison. A flute came in.

"He feasted on bloodlust and envy, and filled his cup full up with spite," sang Galyeon. "My brother once ruled seven kingdoms, he said to his harridan wife. I'll take what was his and make it all mine. Let his son feel the point of my knife."

[...]

"The dark lord assembled his legions, they gathered around him like crows. And thirsty for blood they boarded their ships . . ."

I was positive this was about Jon, but then it took a sharp left turn. Still odd.

+.+.+

"If I am ever Hand again, the first thing I'll do is hang all the singers," said Tyrion, too loudly.

You're off to a good start.

+.+.+

Galyeon sang endless verses about the valor of the boy king and his mother, the golden queen.

"She never did that," Sansa blurted out suddenly. "Never believe anything you hear in a song, my lady." Tyrion summoned a serving man to refill their wine cups.

That's one way to break Sansa's focus, lol.

+.+.+

The jousters were a pair of dwarfs. One was mounted on an ugly grey dog, long of leg and heavy of jaw. The other rode an immense spotted sow. Painted wooden armor clattered and clacked as the little knights bounced up and down in their saddles. Their shields were bigger than they were, and they wrestled manfully with their lances as they clomped along, swaying this way and that and eliciting gusts of mirth. One knight was all in gold, with a black stag painted on his shield; the other wore grey and white, and bore a wolf device.

Penny and Oppo! Thank Littlefinger for the entertainment.

Not an unnecessary cruel jape, his aim is to create a clash. Tyrion obliges.

+.+.+

The struggle that the maesters were calling the War of the Five Kings was all but at an end.

By the time he got it, the second course was being served, a pastry coffyn filled with pork, pine nuts, and eggs.

Tyrion glanced along the dais at all the laughing faces. Joffrey was red and breathless

Joffrey was snorting wine from both nostrils. Gasping, he lurched to his feet, almost knocking over his tall two-handed chalice.

Tyrion turned in his seat. Joffrey was almost upon him, red-faced and staggering

Let me tell you, the author has been enjoying himself throughout this chapter.

Not even Robb was spared from this type of mockery near the end.

Have fun, Daenerys fans. I know I will.

+.+.+

"Your Grace," was all he had time to say before the king upended the chalice over his head. The wine washed down over his face in a red torrent. It drenched his hair, stung his eyes, burned in his wound, ran down his cheeks, and soaked the velvet of his new doublet. "How do you like that, Imp?" Joffrey mocked.

[...]

Queen Margaery appeared suddenly at Joffrey's elbow. "My sweet king," the Tyrell girl entreated, "come, return to your place, there's another singer waiting."

"Alaric of Eysen," said Lady Olenna Tyrell, leaning on her cane and taking no more notice of the wine-soaked dwarf than her granddaughter had done. "I do so hope he plays us 'The Rains of Castamere.' It has been an hour, I've forgotten how it goes."

There's plenty of people in this fandom who doubt Olenna Tyrell's involvement in this murder. I think those people missed what happened here.

Only Margaery and Olenna stood from their seats and approached Joffrey and Tyrion.

Elderly women like Olenna Tyrell, who lack mobility and the confidence to move without help, don't voluntarily stand and walk by themselves unless they have to.

+.+.+

Tyrion did as he was bid, but as he reached for the handle Joff kicked the chalice through his legs. "Pick it up! Are you as clumsy as you are ugly?" He had to crawl under the table to find the thing. "Good, now fill it with wine." He claimed a flagon from a serving girl and filled the goblet three-quarters full. "No, on your knees, dwarf." Kneeling, Tyrion raised up the heavy cup, wondering if he was about to get a second bath. But Joffrey took the wedding chalice one-handed, drank deep, and set it on the table. "You can get up now, Uncle."

His legs cramped as he tried to rise, and almost spilled him again. Tyrion had to grab hold of a chair to steady himself. Ser Garlan lent him a hand. Joffrey laughed, and Cersei as well. Then others. He could not see who, but he heard them.

"Your Grace." Lord Tywin's voice was impeccably correct. "They are bringing in the pie. Your sword is needed."

"The pie?" Joffrey took his queen by the hand. "Come, my lady, it's the pie."

Joffrey drinks from the chalice -> No reaction, no poison -> He leaves with Margaery -> Margaery cleared -> The chalice is left behind where Tyrion is seated.

Seated near Tyrion -> Sansa, Garlan Tyrell, and Leonette Fossoway.

Olenna Tyrell? Presumably still standing nearby.

+.+.+

"True." Joffrey lifted his voice. "Ser Ilyn, your sword!"

From the shadows at the back of the hall, Ser Ilyn Payne appeared. The specter at the feast, thought Tyrion as he watched the King's Justice stride forward, gaunt and grim. He had been too young to have known Ser Ilyn before he'd lost his tongue. He would have been a different man in those days, but now the silence is as much a part of him as those hollow eyes, that rusty chainmail shirt, and the greatsword on his back.

Tyrion and more tongues.

+.+.+

Sansa stirred in her seat. "What sword is that?"

[...]

Sansa clutched his arm. "What has Ser Ilyn done with my father's sword?"

+.+.+

But before they could make their retreat, Joffrey was back. "Uncle, where are you going? You're my cupbearer, remember?"

"I need to change into fresh garb, Your Grace. May I have your leave?"

"No. I like the look of you this way. Serve me my wine."

The king's chalice was on the table where he'd left it. Tyrion had to climb back onto his chair to reach it. Joff yanked it from his hands and drank long and deep, his throat working as the wine ran purple down his chin. "My lord," Margaery said, "we should return to our places. Lord Buckler wants to toast us."

"My uncle hasn't eaten his pigeon pie." Holding the chalice one-handed, Joff jammed his other into Tyrion's pie. "It's ill luck not to eat the pie," he scolded as he filled his mouth with hot spiced pigeon. "See, it's good." Spitting out flakes of crust, he coughed and helped himself to another fistful. "Dry, though. Needs washing down." Joff took a swallow of wine and coughed again, more violently. "I want to see, kof, see you ride that, kof kof, pig, Uncle. I want . . ." His words broke up in a fit of coughing.

Along with questioning Olenna's involvement, many people in this fandom have speculated the pigeon pie was poisoned, and Tyrion was the intended target.

I'll stop those people right there. What was Joffrey drinking?

His cupbearer poured a whole flagon of dark Arbor red into the golden wedding chalice that Lord Tyrell had given him that morning.

What colour was the wine that ran down his chin?

Joff yanked it from his hands and drank long and deep, his throat working as the wine ran purple down his chin.

What colour is strangler?

They said a victim's face turned as purple as the little crystal seed from which his death was grown, but so too did a man choking on a morsel of food. - Prologue, ACOK

"Black amethysts from Asshai. The rarest kind, a deep true purple by daylight." - Sansa VIII, ACOK

Something else that stood out was Margaery calling Joffrey 'lord' after he drank. We know that's a big no no.

I suspect it's a mistake by the author, and not meant to be analyzed, but I could see people interpreting that as one final slight.

+.+.+

"He's choking," Queen Margaery gasped.

Her grandmother moved to her side. "Help the poor boy!" the Queen of Thorns screeched, in a voice ten times her size. "Dolts! Will you all stand about gaping? Help your king!"

Academy Award nominee Olenna Tyrell felt the need to move again. Or did she never sit back down?

Nice show, either way.

+.+.+

Joffrey began to claw at his throat, his nails tearing bloody gouges in the flesh. Beneath the skin, the muscles stood out hard as stone.

What's karma taste like Joffrey? Pigeon pie?

+.+.+

Joffrey was making a dry clacking noise, trying to speak. His eyes bulged white with terror, and he lifted a hand . . . reaching for his uncle, or pointing . . . Is he begging my forgiveness, or does he think I can save him? "Noooo," Cersei wailed

There's the wailing widow! George didn't disappoint.

Shoot, I'm kind of disappointed in myself for not guessing it would be her.

+.+.+

Tyrion found himself thinking of Robb Stark. My own wedding is looking much better in hindsight. He looked to see how Sansa was taking this, but there was so much confusion in the hall that he could not find her.

Run, Sansa! Quick! Before he shoots you with an arrow.

+.+.+

But his eyes fell on the wedding chalice, forgotten on the floor. He went and scooped it up. There was still a half-inch of deep purple wine in the bottom of it. Tyrion considered it a moment, then poured it on the floor.

Wait, was he considering taking a sip? Damn, so close.

I know he wasn't thinking, and that was natural human behaviour, but god damn that was a stupid move.

+.+.+

"He did not choke." Cersei's voice was sharp as Ser Ilyn's sword. "My son was poisoned." She looked to the white knights standing helplessly around her. "Kingsguard, do your duty."

"My lady?" said Ser Loras Tyrell, uncertain.

"Arrest my brother," she commanded him. "He did this, the dwarf. Him and his little wife. They killed my son. Your king. Take them! Take them both!"

"All that way," Ned affirmed. "The Lannister woman shall never have this skin." - Eddard III, AGOT

Final thoughts:

Long live the king!

Shouldn't a person's internal monologue change when they're hammered? Like, even a little bit?

32 down, 17 to go. :(

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #asos #tyrion viii

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iammamenow · 4 years ago

Text

🔮Dream Snippet💤

This Evening: 'Karl Satan', featuring Misha Collins

My friend and I are avid metalheads. So much so, in fact, that we concluded that if we'd have known each other before our officially meeting in college, we would've led drastically different lives for the better. Our music tastes made us the quintessential outcasts throughout our childhood, in our differently placed yet all too similar environments of the unforgiving grammar school setting. And if we'd have been together, instead of rebelling alone? Hell. We would've been fucking merciless; scaring off all those who tried to subdue us with 'Slipknot'.

Luckily, we didn't miss each other entirely. It was she that managed to get tickets to our local Knotfest, and since then we've practically been inseparable. We have a whole list of other acts we NEED to see. Jinjer, Cherry Bombs, System of A Down... Killswitch Engage is one of the more recent ones added to the list.

And it keeps on building from there.

Blame the die-hard fan in me, but I even go so far as to dream of the concerts we'll see, and the bands that'll be headlining it. Very rarely is it ever as detailed with the opening number.

So you can only imagine my surprise when this little nightly fantasy in particular came in and dropped kick the bomb on me from up close instead of merely from up high.

Because as much as I love metal, Supernatural comes in at a very, very close second.

Onto the dream! That way you'll see what I mean.

My friend and I are already at the venue. We gave up the idea of seats and smuggled our way into the nearest pit where there was already a circle forming, whirling in rhythm to the revving up of the amps testing out the guitars. It had been years since I'd been in one. I jump in, just in time for the wave that comes our way. My friend decides to watch from the sidelines. To my chaotic, she is the zen. Even at a metal concert, where we both inevitably lose our shit, but in our own way.

Soon the tests of chords cease from the guitars, the rhythmic hits from each individual drum and symbol cut. That long drone of bassy silence fills the entire place with that unsaid but solid presence of a queue - someone's about to go on.

The crowd cheers. My friend and I - along with the whole circle pit - turn to look at the stage and do the same. Naturally. No matter who's up there, you cheer. It's a metal concert, for Satan's sake. More than likely, every fucking band is gonna knock your ass out. I haven't been proven wrong if that yet.

And I certainly wasn't in my dream.

The five souls that come walking across the stage are oh so gothically dressed, it warms my heart to it's original sad core. The drama in the abundance of buckles, glinting a brilliant gold in the overhead stage lights; then the overall theatricality of the fact that their whole theme just mirrors that of my favorite horror movie 'Hellraiser' and it's main antagonists, The Cenobites. I was ready. I was waiting, already wanting the onslaught of their sound that I just knew had to be fucking brutal. I mean look at the way they're dressed! We were in for it.

Oh, we were.

I was.

The one stopping in front of the mic had an elaborate coverall mask on, save for the bottom half of his face. And when he took it off to reveal the rest of it, everyone cried out in bloody shock and praise.

I just went quiet.

My friend yelled out for me the "holy SHIT" that was already on my lips and screeching in my head when the now unmasked figure introduced himself as none other than the angel in a trenchcoat. The man that plays him, that is.

Misha Collins

I couldn't tune out the world around me if I tried. I didn't want to. Not even if I was in absolute shock. I do not allow myself to fade off into some haze or other ethereal realm when it comes to events like this. I want to be there, in that moment; one that I made it all this way for. For all concerts generally. For metal concerts specifically.

I just need to be there. All there.

And man, in that moment, was I fucking glad I was.

After making himself known, Misha turns to the band and introduces them as 'Karl Satan'. I know there was a deeper joke in there, i just know it. But I was too busy laughing at the name alone to even dissect it any further. Frankly, so was the audience. Such a hearty chorus brought a smile to Misha's lips.

As he readied the mask to be put back on again, he made one final claim as himself to say that he formed this cover band to try his hand at "this music shtick", just like the rest of his cast mates from the show. Personally, I never had any doubt that he had something like this in his artillery; something akin to a band or music act. But like this? Hell no. Hell. No! Hence making it all the more lovely of a surprise.

With that, the mask went back on, and he sent a nod the drummers way before the lights faded out, leaving us in an anticipating darkness. Almost as quickly as it set in for us did it get fucking shot with the sharp bash of the symbols, joined by the aftershocks of the snares.

It's starting. Holy fuck, it's starting!

The rhythm was classic, dangerously revving up to what you could literally taste to be a sweet drop. Above all, it was familiar. My friend and I were in perfect sync with Misha, when through the mask he screamed through gnashed teeth:

"THE YEARS I PUT INTO THIS!!"

His leadership was seamless; effortless. Without question, you would believe that he had done this before. With the headbangs intertwined in the thrumming veins of both the percussive guitar riff and the drums, he would channel his power back and forth. First he would go, then the audience.

The circle pit was a whole world of it's own. No. It was a black hole, sucking in other fans who caught a glance at it, and soon as they did, wanted to join the fray. I even got my friend to come in and join me in the air, where they hoisted me up once the center of the circle started to disappear with the amount of people swallowing up all the empty space. We were floating orbs in this fanatic atmosphere. Two circulating asteroids in the midst of a hailstorm of meteors, heading straight for the center our universe - the stage.

It was fucking AMAZING.

And so utterly filled with Misha-esque quips of humor and theatricality, making it feel all the more REAL. For example, as the opening number progressed, he would add little bits of harsh criticism of his own voice and caliber of scream. Then after the next song, he would transition with a story on how he auditioned to play a demon for Supernatural in the first place, and has since taken the rejection hard. "Can you tell? I started singing about it! Singing? Screaming? You get the idea. Yeah, you get it. I know you do". He then laughs suddenly, throwing his head back. He brings the mic up to follow that of his mouth, facing skyward. "Wait, wait! How shitty would it be if I would've actually gotten that fucking role if I'd have just done THIS?! Just SCREAM AT THEM?!" Like second nature does his Castiel voice come out. He even took of the mask again so that he could throw on the whole audience that quintessential doe eyed gaze of the angel's, complete with the head tilt. "Would you call me an angel then, Dean?" His own guffaw, bringing Misha back. "There you go. That's how Cas got his voice. He kept screaming into the void *Castiel voice* and came back out with this... As for the others, I can't speak for them. They wanna speak two octaves below their normal voice, who am I to say anything? Trick question. I'm the one who can't say anything because I'm too busy getting a sore throat all the time. Thanks, Cas. Love you, too. That bitch".

Forget what I said. AMAZING doesn't cut it. It was fucking GOLD.

And above all, it was a fucking DREAM.

I woke up eventually, and here I am three or so days later writing about it, still reeling from it.

I have only to conclude that the two things that make me happy are what seems to be a mirror with it's two sides, representing one thing in the reflection: the one thing that made me happy back then, and the one that makes me happy now.

I thought I had to outgrow one. Just like I think currently that I'll soon have to outgrow the other.

But do I? Do I really?

They go so well together.

Perhaps the real question is, what if they both don't wanna leave?

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etlunainmorte · 5 years ago

Text

"I have,... something for you." He said as he grabbed something from his bag. You eagerly waited as he searched, and when he finally handed you a pack of popcorn, you couldn't help but smile.

"You bought this, V?" You asked him as the smell of butter reached your nostrils.

"Yes. We haven't finished Endgame, have we?"

"Come to think of it, no, we haven't." You admitted.

V smiled as he reached for his bag once more, producing a stuffed tiger from it and giving it to you, reminding you of,...

"Is this,... did you win this at the carnival?"

V proudly hummed. "I have,... quite a skill with,... should we say,... sniping?"

Oh, God, he remembered! You happily thought. He remembered I have a really bad aim and couldn't win the stuffed tiger at the carnival.

"And that's not all." V said.

"Hmm?"

"I went fishing."

"Oh, you did?! What happened?"

"I caught a boot."

"YOU DIDN'T!"

V laughed, the sound of his low voice sending warmth all throughout your whole body. In fact, you have never felt so warm in your entire life. And when he handed you a single boot from his bag just for laughs, you fell in love with him all over again.

"I - I never thought this is possible, oh my!" You confessed through fits of laughter, however, at this point, the smile on V's face vanished. You noticed this and went silent as he took the boot from your hands and upended it, making a small velvet box the color of your eyes fall from it. Then, he went down on one knee and opened the box, revealing the most beautiful ring with an emerald attached to it.

"(Y/N) (L/N)," V declared. " ... will you marry me?"

***

I See My Future Before Me - The ENDing

***

There really was a wedding, yes. And a most memorable one, at that.

All of your friends and loved ones came to the small, and yet special, event. Together, you celebrated the most important day of your life.

The wedding took place in a small, charming garden where V's favorite flowers bloomed. Kyrie, Lady, Trish, and Patty all helped you to choose the perfect wedding gown. Unfortunately, the ones they chose for you didn't feel comfortable on your skin ( Kyrie's being too covered, Lady's being too flashy, Trish's showed too much skin, and Patty's looked a bit too modern for your own taste ). Nico, Alicia, and Cagliostro all helped with the decorations. Petya supervised the buffet, even helped you and V choose the perfect menu ( from the sumptuous appetizer down to the luscious dessert ), and Natasha volunteered to be the wedding singer ( she made it sound like you don’t have any choice and she even refused to say she's hyped up about being a first - time wedding singer ). Dante, by the way, was thoughtfully shoved to the side by Nero, who knew full well that his uncle would only mess things up and destroy everything should he decide to help with anything, at all. The younger Devil Hunter, on the other hand, was tasked to usher the guests to the venue. Morrison graciously volunteered to call for one of the Ministers from Swan Lane, the neighboring city of Red Grave, where most of the state's churches were. Griffon ( who still swore too much ) and Shadow ( who looked far too old carrying around an Elmo plush ) were forced to take literacy, manners, and etiquette one - oh - one crash courses, courtesy of the haughty Miss Natasha, herself, for the social event. Little Eva was chosen to be the flower girl, and Sister Christina was chosen to be the Matron Of Honor.

And so, on the eleventh of May that one, bountiful and beautiful year, you and V were married.

V, who had his waist - length snowy white hair cut for the special event, waited for you at the arc of azaleas and white roses, his Best Man, Nero, who was wearing his grandfather's coat and tie ( which he honestly detested ) for the event, standing just next to him.

A few moments later, the bride, on the arms of the Best Man, Dante, who was forced to wear his father's coat and tie ( which he honestly detested ), finally came, making heads turn around in awe and wonder.

Dressed in a sheer, form - fitting immaculate, white gown with floral patterns made of silk and lace, and with a long chiffon train that brushed the carpet of flowers that led towards the arc, you walked towards your one, true love, who was waiting for you.

His eyes wide with love and adoration, and his heart pounding with excitement, V watched as you walked, your serene movements and perfect poise catching the eyes of him, and everybody else.

His breath was,... simply taken away. And no one could blame him.

For, now, standing next to him and lovingly looking up at him was the most beautiful bride he has ever seen.

And she will be together with him, at last!

Dante reluctantly, and with a visible pout, gave your hand to V's waiting one, and the ceremony finally began.

Vows of eternal love and devotion were exchanged, rings were exchanged, heavily rogued cheeks were stained with running mascara, manly sobs were heard all over the place, teary eyes were wiped with handkerchiefs of all forms and colors, noses were sniffed unto handkerchiefs of all forms and colors, even the Minister tried so hard to conceal his emotions.

And with that much awaited kiss, the crowd went all wild and emotional with celebration.

There was dancing ( Trish and Lady took the center stage and wowed the audience ), partying ( Nero isolated the pouty Dante and drank whiskey with him, instead ), games ( Patty and Nico managed to beat Griffon and Shadow in almost every game, except for the paper dance, where the familiars cheated and used their powers to win ), photo ops ( strangely enough, people were all drawn to Nightmare because they thought it was a very realistic - looking sculpture, and chose to have selfies with it instead of the newly wed couple, making its multiple photos viral on social media ), and, of course, the much awaited feast ( Petya fed the guests until they were satisfied and beyond, making sure that they would leave the event with bulging stomachs ), and the amazing five - foot ( not five – tier ) wedding cake decorated with fondants of azalea and white roses ( which V, who was secretly a huge cake and sweets fanatic, was gladly able to fully take home with you, the guests being so full because of Petya that they weren't able to partake of the dessert, at all ).

Ahh, truly, it was the most amazing day ever.

And that amazing day was followed by weeks of blessedness, months of fruitfulness, and years and years of prosperity.

All beside your dear, darling, and faithful husband.

However, those years, despite being happy and full, took a toll on your body.

"Happy anniversary, my love." V greeted you that one, sunny morning, kissing you on the forehead and offering you your breakfast in bed.

"What a surprise! Thank you, V." You answered as you allowed him to hold your wrinkled hand.

"Anything for my one, true love." The man whispered to your ear.

However, no matter how happy you looked, no matter how many times you showed him your smile, he knew you were anything but.

And he knew why.

Standing in front of a mirror after that hearty breakfast, the two of you looked at each other's reflection, just like what you've always done every morning since the beginning of your married life.

"You,... look so handsome." You said as you gazed at your husbands features.

"And you, my dear," V exclaimed as he lovingly took your hands in his and placed a tender kiss on them. " ... you are the most gorgeous person I have ever seen."

To this, you chuckled and simply shook your head. "You're lying."

"I'm not!" V chuckled as he tried to kiss your cheek. However, his face fell when you took your hands from him and turned away. "(Y/N)?"

"Yes?" You asked monotonously as you took away the dishes and placed them on the sink.

"Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong - "

"(Y/N), I know something has been bothering you." V urged. "Tell me, please."

You chuckled and turned to him.

But, your eyes,...

... they didn't look cheerful, at all.

"There is nothing wrong, V."

There was a moment of silence after those questionable words you just uttered, and after those tense seconds, he walked closer to you, tried to hold your hands, and touch your face.

But, still, you wouldn't let him.

With your back still turned away from him, you finally let out those thoughts, those,... fears,... that have been crushing you all those years ago.

"Leave me, V." You simply said.

And this alarmed the poet. "What?! I'm not going to leave you, (Y/N)! I promised you! I will NOT,... LEAVE YOU!"

With tear - stained eyes, you finally looked at him. And this only confirmed V's worst fears.

"Look at me!" You said to him in such a broken voice that wrecked the poet's heart. "I'm old! And wrinkled! And,... not me!"

"But, I love you, (Y/N),..."

"And look at you! Still,... s - still so young and strong and,... "

"(Y/N),..."

"We don't look,... okay together! You can't go on loving,... a grandma like me!"

"Listen to me, please,..."

"V, I love you too, I really do. But, I have to let you go. You still have a wonderful and long life ahead of you."

In a futile attempt to make you listen to him, V tried, once more, to hold your hands.

And you still refused. And this made him beyond depressed.

So, just like that, he left.

And you haven't seen him in three days.

Of course, you were sad upon this separation but, you have to accept that you can't be together with V now. He has a life ahead of him. He could even move on and be with another person should he decide it.

V,... deserved so much more.

But, being all alone,...

... it made you so, so sad,...

And as you woke up that morning without him by your side, you couldn't help but let out the tears of sadness and heartbreak.

Wiping your tears away with your fragile hands, you cried, "I miss you so much, V,..."

"Mom!" The door suddenly opened and in came your daughter, Avery ( now a very proud mother of twins who looked exactly like Dante and Vergil when they were little ), who looked so, so happy despite this dreary situation. She noticed your pitiful state and came forward, giving you a tender hug and a pat on the back. "Oh, mom. Don't cry. We're here for you."

"Oh, dear,..." You went on, letting your emotions out on your sweet daughter. "It's just that,... I missed your father so, so much."

"Oh, mommy,..." Avery sighed. "Alright. You should get dressed. We're going somewhere."

"What? Why? Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise!" She said, taking your hand and making you get out of bed. "Come on!"

And so, you let yourself be led by Avery and her husband, Roman, towards that old garden where you and V got married many, many years ago.

Thinking it was a really bad joke, you said, "You two are gonna give me a heart attack. Please, tell me what's going on."

"We have a surprise for you, mom." Avery said excitedly.

"This way." Roman said, gesturing towards the gazebo where you and V danced on your wedding day.

"What is this, really?" You, being an old and cranky person, asked one more time.

Avery simply rolled her eyes. "I told you! It's a surprise!"

"It's our gift to you." Roman, who was the softer of the couple, answered. Then, with tender hands, he gently led you towards the gazebo.

"Dear, I'm too old for these surprises." You told Roman along the way. "Won't you have any mercy to me?"

"Haha! Well, I'm pretty sure you'll love this." The man made you turn towards the gazebo, and what you saw there made you feel really strange. "Happy anniversary, mom."

The moment you heard the simple greeting from the young man, another man, who looked the same age as you ( or even older ) turned towards you, smiling at you as if you were his long lost lover, or something. It seemed as though he has been sitting there inside the gazebo, waiting for you for a while.

In fact, his gorgeous green eyes never left yours.

"Ahh, can I,... ahh,... help you with something?" You asked the old man as you entered the gazebo.

However, he didn't answer you. Instead, he stood up from his chair, leaning against a metal cane, and took out a very familiar – looking, worn out book. He opened it, and smirked,...

"I,... have no name." His voice, despite it cracking a bit, sounded clear and beautiful. And oh so heartbreaking. "I' am,... but two days old,...

“Just kidding. You can call me, V.”

You giggled at the poem, finally realizing who this man was.

Of course! How were you able to not notice?!

"Y - you're anything but two days old!" You laughed, feeling your tears leave your tired, burning eyes.

The old man chuckled, his beautiful green eyes gleaming with so much mirth and gladness. Then, he went on reading.

"Little Lamb,... who made thee,... dost thou know,... who made thee? Gave thee life,... and bid thee feed. By the stream,... and o'er the mead. Gave thee clothing of delight,... softest clothing,... wooly bright. Gave thee,... such a tender voice,... making all the vales rejoice! Little Lamb,... who made thee,... dost thou know,... who made thee?"

The old man, still relying on his old metal cane for support, walked towards you and softly laid his hand on your face.

To him, you were still,... the most beautiful woman on earth,...

You were crying so much but, still, he went on reading despite his blurry eyes. "I went to the Garden of Love,... and saw what I never had seen: a Chapel was built in the midst,... where I used to play on the green. And the gates of this Chapel were shut,... and thou shalt not writ over the door. So, I turned to the Garden of Love,... that so many sweet flowers bore."

"Azaleas." You said as you laid your hand on his. "And white roses."

"Yes, azaleas and white roses." The man answered as he wrapped you in his arms. "You remembered my favorite flowers, my love."

"Why would I forget about that, V?"

"Ahh,... I'm such a fool,..."

You shook your head as you let the old and wrinkled poet wipe away your tears. Just like how he did it whenever you cried from watching your favorite sad movies. "You're not a fool, V! Never. But,... why? How did you - ?"

"I gave the Sisters to the twins." V answered your obvious question.

"Dante and Vergil?"

"Yes. It's about time I pass them on, after all."

"But, what about you? You'll - !"

"Ssh. It's alright." V hugged you as he rubbed your back. "Power,... means nothing me,... without you by my side. I'd rather wilt away like an old rose in the Garden Of Love than live without you, (Y/N). I love you,... so much,..." Gently touching your cheeks, he, then, said, "May I have the honor of this dance,... my lady?"

And dance, you did. Just like the first time you met in that Grecian balcony.

Now, could you honestly deny this feeling of happiness with him by your side?

You and your beloved poet lived a few more years after that sweet and heartfelt reunion. And during those sweet, and yet short, years, you did everything you could think of to fill your days with happiness and adventure. And love, of course.

The two of you went to the carnival and ate junk food ( meaning popcorn, caramel apples, cotton candies, and such ). V tried so hard to win that stuffed tiger for you again by sniping ( he didn't win the plush, he won the Complete Elvis Presley Album Collection, instead ). You traveled as much as you can to many places ( with Griffon and Shadow as your two personal assistants, always there to remind you should the two of you forget where you last placed your dentures ). You went out fishing ( the boot myth was real ). And you binge watched all of your favorite movies, from LaLaLand, to Titanic, to Dracula ( you purchased digital copies of these and V kept them in his trusty one terabyte USB where he kept all of his poetry audio and eBooks ).

Those few years were simply,...the best years of your life.

But those few years,... were sadly too short,...

For there came a time when V started to forget some things. Little things, yes but, really noticeable ones, nonetheless. Not to mention his already deteriorating body. And this worried you.

Especially during that one particularly cloudy day when, out of the blue, V asked you to watch a movie with him.

"What movie would you like to see, my love?" You asked.

He opened his mouth to answer but, no words came out. You knew he has forgotten. He has forgotten his favorite movie and he was aware of this, as well but, he tried not to show it. And you couldn't blame him. He,... just aged faster than you after giving up the Sisters Of Fate's powers.

He simply took your hand and said, "Anything you wish,... my love."

As much as it worried you, you did nothing but to lead him straight to your humble living room in your small Swan Lane house where you and your family spent a lot of time watching all of your favorite shows and movies. But, not before calling Avery, Roman, Nero, Kyrie, and Nico ( Dante, Trish, and Lady were not able to come that day due to an emergency in Red Grave that they must attend to ). Even Griffon and Shadow were present.

Taking Griffon's hand, you told the loyal familiar, "Come with us, please."

Without a word, the demon nodded and followed you and V towards the living room. Griffon closed the door, but not before seeing the worried faces of your friends and loved ones.

"Come on, Dante and Vergil." The familiar heard Eva, Nero and Kyrie's daughter, say to the little twins as she took their chubby hands, leading them to their play rooms along with Shadow. Griffon turned away and finally closed the door. It was then that he saw you and V already huddled together on the sofa as the poet's favorite movie started playing on the old television.

As carefully as he could, the thoughtful familiar placed the wool blanket, which he has been carrying around since morning for his master, over V's body to protect his body from the cold.

“Thank you, Griffon.” The familiar barely heard V say. “For,… everything.”

Just from the other side of the room, Griffon could hear the weather forecast being broadcasted on the radio. Apparently, a storm really was coming, according to the reporter. And according to the same reporter, the storm came from Red Grave, of all places, where Dante, Trish, and Lady were taking care of something.

But, he's not involved in it this time.

For he,... was needed by the two most important people in his life, one of them needing him the most,...

And so, the movie ensued, despite the bad weather outside.

"There was a boy,... a very strange, enchanted boy. They said he wandered very far,... very far,... over land and see,..."

"Don't be fooled! Evil!"

"A little shy,..."

"Turn away from this village of sin!"

"And sad of eye,... but, very wise,... was he,... And then, one day,... A magic day he passed,... my way,... And while we spoke of many things, Fools and Kings,... this he said to me:

"The greatest thing,...

You'll ever learn,...

Is just to love,...

And be loved in,...

... return,..."

"I - it's Moulin Rouge!" V wheezed as he grabbed your hand in his excitement. Just like the sixth or twenty - third time he's seen it. "My favorite movie. (Y/N), dear, you remembered!"

"Of course, I do, my love." You answered.

For a few more minutes, V's green eyes watched, in awe and wonder, the wonderful colors jumping before him on the screen. He tried to say along the lines he could still remember, and sing along to the familiar tunes of the musical.

However, there was one song you knew V truly wanted to hear.

His most favorite song,...

"On Opening Night, I have to sleep with the Duke. And the jealousy will drive you mad."

"Then, I'll write a song - "

"Christian - "

" ... and whenever you hear it, or sing it, or whistle it, or hum it, then you'll know it'll mean we love one another. I won't get jealous."

"Things don't work that way, Christian. We have to end it."

"I,... want to sing it." V muttered. "Could you,... please,... sing it with me?"

"Yes, of course." You answered without hesitation.

"Never knew I could feel like this. Like I've never seen the sky before. Want to vanish inside your kiss. Seasons may change, winter to spring, but I love you until the end of time.

Come what may,...

I will love you until my dying day.

Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place. Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace. Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste. It all revolves around you. And there's no mountain too high, no river too wide. Sing out this song, and I'll be there by your side. Storm clouds may gather, and stars may collide.

But I love you,...

I love you,...

Until the end of time,...

Come what may,...

I will love you,..."

"The greatest thing,..."

"Oh, God, V!" You held your beloved's hand in yours as your tears flowed out of your eyes. "I love you,... so much,..."

" ... you'll ever learn,..."

"I,... love you,..." V weakly sang, his voice getting softer and softer, his eyes never leaving yours for even a second. "Until the end,… of,… time,..."

" ... is just to love,... "

Griffon's eyes widened at that exact moment. He, then, looked down and took one of his master's hands in his as he heard your heartbreaking sobs.

" ... and be loved in,... "

It was,... cold.

" ... return."

It was then that his own tears fell,... for the very first time.

Griffon, a Demon, cried,... for the very first time.

"Rest well," He whispered as he wrapped an arm around his master's body. " ... Shakespeare."

And there's no mountain too high, no river too wide. Sing out this song, and I'll be there by your side. Storm clouds may gather, and stars may collide.

But I love you,...

I love you,...

Until the end of time,...

"He,... wasn't able to see his favorite scene." You whispered to Griffon, who, like you, refused to leave V's side after the movie has long ended.

"It doesn't matter, sweet pea." Griffon answered, his voice raw with emotion. "He was able to tell you how he felt, and that's what's truly important."

And it truly was the most important thing. V was able to tell you how he felt. You cherished those words from that day onward, always remembering how V lived as a man of honor and dignity, as a loving father, a very supportive grandparent, and as a truly devoted husband.

The mysterious man called V, who was so fond of poetry, of flowers freshly blooming in the morning, of artful grace, and of the simplest things in life,...

... was never forgotten, his name forever etched into his loved ones' hearts.

His smile,... forever in your memory,...

... until the next storm of the following year that finally brought you into his loving arms,...

At last.

***

🖤 @la-vita and @clevermentalitybeliever . 🖤

***

Many years back, in an Alternate Universe,...

"Miss Edwards,..." V called the woman's attention, slightly running to catch up to her before she could drive away.

Avery fortunately ( and finally ) noticed him and removed her helmet, turning her gaze towards him and appraising him from head to foot. In fact, she looked so surprised that a man such as V was trying to have a conversation with her.

Was it his unusual appearance?

"And you are - ?"

"V." The poet answered, taking a deep breath and leaning on his metal cane for support. He, then, straightened his back and tilted his head to the side. "You can call me V."

"Oh. What can I do for you, V?"

"About the commission - "

"Stop. Right. There." Avery pointed at V, cutting him halfway through his sentence. "If you're planning to take on the Poltergeist at my home, then you're making a HUGE mistake."

Huh? "And may I ask,... why?"

"Furniture floating and smashing about. Disembodied voices in the middle of the night. And your skinny, princess ass begging to be fed and given vitamins. Are you goddamn sure?!"

"I would like,... to see myself try." V simply told her.

The woman raised a scornful eyebrow. She knew that Dante was her one and only hope and choice. No other person in Red Grave could do it but him.

But, this man?

"So, will you take on the job, or not?"

"I would like to,... if you would allow me."

Avery furrowed her eyebrows and regarded him like he was some suicidal maniac begging to be fed to the lion. "Alright. I'll expect you tomorrow, then. Move into the house for a week. Bring whatever or whoever you need. You know my address."

"Would a cat and a bird do?" V innocently asked as he playfully twirled his metal cane in a display of confidence. This woman,... must be taught a lesson.

Avery pursed her lips and wore her helmet once more. "Sure. Whatever. I don't care. Just,... get rid of the ghost for me. I'll pay you. That I can assure you."

And with those words, she finally drove away.

Despite the question strangely bugging him, he was, in fact, feeling excited of this new mission. Yes, Dante might consider it as "small fry" but, facing Poltergeists was definitely a welcome change compared to his boring Devil Hunting routine. And he wanted so much to prove that woman wrong about him.

He was about to go back to the shop to pack what little belongings he have when he noticed Nico staring at him with wide eyes and open mouth. Apparently, she has been standing near the door for quite a while and must have heard the conversation between him and Avery. She almost dropped her groceries as she attempted to close her mouth and control her drooling.

Wait, did she look,... excited?

"Whoa, a paranormal investigation!" The Artisan gasped. "Can I tag along?"

"I don't - "

"Come on, man! Ya gotta let me!" Nico strode closer to him, flailing her arms about and almost sending her groceries flying everywhere. "This is like,... a dream come true for me! Okay, how about this: we'll split the pay 70 - 30. But, I'll be happy with nothing, though, if you don't want 70 - 30! But, come on, that's good deal, yeah?"

"Nico, I - "

"Please? I'll drive you on the way there. I will not be a bother."

V felt cornered. The woman looked really excited that he would surely feel guilty if he refused her.

Him, Griffon, Shadow, probably Nightmare, as well, and finally, Nico.

What could go wrong with this simple task of driving away a single evil spirit from someone's home with some comrades? After all, Avery did say he could bring just about anyone.

And what does her house look like, anyway? And what was the reason behind this Poltergeist's ceaseless haunting?

***

THE END

***

🖤🖤🖤

***

#devil may cry 5 #vitale sparda #i see my future before me alternate endings #v x reader #v x you #the ENDing

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