#will <3 the truest king of the show | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cdragons · 1 year ago

Text

Like the Wave, She Broke; But Like the Sea, She Persevered

Chapter 3: And So, It Begins

Previous Chapter

A Robb Stark X Yi Tish Reader/OC Story

Author's Note: I do not own Game of Thrones or ASOIAF or any of GRRM works. But please no hate, but feel free to comment, like, or reblog if you liked reading this story and want me to continue! There are some phrases written in Mandarin and some are in Romanization, but the translations are at the bottom of the post, along with pinyin for pronunciation. Ship terms and language is written by someone who has never been on a medieval ship in a storm. Also a surprise character is introduced into the story!

Also, I am so sorry for how long this story took to be updated. Finals and internships have been busting my butt for the past 2 months. But hopefully I'll be more consistent with my updates. I really appreciate everyone who has been following with this story, and I am especially grateful for my beta writer @valeskafics for her very helpful comments and her tips! Please check out her works, she's an insanely brilliant writer!

Warning(s): sexual content, past trauma & abuse, violence and violent themes, depression, symptoms of PTSD & survivor's guilt, asshole bosses, mention of offensive and racist terms, GOT canonical misogyny & sexism, angst (so much angst), references to abusers, and dark/yandere attitudes.

Previously in “Like the Wave, She Broke; But Like the Sea, She Persevered”:

“You’re coming because you’re the King in the North, Arya because two Starks are better than one in this case and your mother is in no state to continue on, my guess is that the bannermen probably want to send her back to Winterfell. And Blackfish is going because he’s a Tully of Riverrun, but he’s not your fuckup Uncle Edmure Tully of Riverrun.”

Robb’s POV:

For Robb to say that the meeting with the bannermen was tedious would be an understatement. Theon was right that the meeting was mostly about sending his mother back to Winterfell in order to reunite with Bran and Rickon. His Lady Mother was more than pleased with the decision, although she tried in her best efforts to remain strong for her son, she was at her wits’ end with worry for her two youngest boys. She called for a steward to prepare the trip for her and Arya, when the atmosphere immediately became tense. It seems that his mother was unaware that she would be the only Stark returning to the North. Furthermore, the only one amongst Robb’s council uninformed of the apparent unanimous decision to send Arya to Maidenpool with Robb her Uncle Brydyen as a way to show good will, but still presenting a unified front from both the North and the Riverlands to Stannis and his men. In hearing of this decision, she demanded a moment alone with their king and princess her son and daughter, along with Lord Brydyen.

“You expect me to return to Winterfell,” gritted out his mother, “only to leave my daughter here?” Her crystalline blue eyes were nearly bulging out of their sockets, her signature red strands escaped her braid, giving the illusion of fire surrounding her in the tent’s candlelight. A fire that was slowly rising with her increasing anger. “So she can meet with Stannis? And then what? Would she train to be a soldier, to fight, in King’s Landing, just after escaping? Of all the things you have expected from me to allow in you becoming King, this is your truest sign of madness from power.”

“Mother, please- “, Robb started to explain his reasoning, by which he wanted to explain that Arya practically ambushed him after his brawl tiff with Theon, and outright told him that she was going with him to Maidenpool. There was nothing to ask, no permission to grant, she was coming if it meant tailing behind him on foot for weeks in order to meet Stannis Baratheon and plan siege on King’s Landing and rescuing Sansa. She even shoved a dagger near his balls and told him that she’d cut them off if he sent her back home with their mother. She followed by pointing out that he might be better without it, considering he married the first girl it pointed at in this war. He tried his best to ignore Theon’s squawking laughter behind him as he visibly paled.

“NO! No, I won’t hear it,” Lady Catelyn shook her head furiously before pointing a finger at him like she was scolding a small child, rather than a king in war, “I have swayed by you too many times. All of which because I had been thinking of your rights as a king, and your happiness as my son. But in doing so, I have allowed you too much freedom. As a mother, it was my duty to allow you as much happiness afforded to you in this war. But in doing so, I have let you forgotten your duty to your family. No more, I could not stop you from marrying Talisa, from executing Lord Karstark, but I will not let you turn my daughter into a killer-”.

“I already am a killer!” Arya yelled over her, interrupting their mother’s fury-fueled lecture, and bringing both their mother’s and Robb’s eyes on her for the first time since the bannermen left the tent. “I already killed four men! I trained under a killer, a faceless man, I’m not leaving!” Robb was blown away by what he heard, from his youngest sister of all people. Arya turned to him, and he knew that she would not relent. “I’m going with you, I’m going to meet Stannis, and then I’m going to march into King’s Landing and get our sister back.”

This was not his little sister that snuck out of her lessons with her Setpa, the one that would always beg him or Jon to teach her how to fight, the one who would fling food at Sansa and he would send her to her room. That Arya longed for freedom, for glory, but was still green to the world and its cruelty. No, this Arya understood what it meant to take a life, felt the stopping of a man’s heart, saw the light bleed out a man’s eyes before being replaced by dull nothingness. This Arya was a killer.

“I’m the only one out of all of us who knows their way around the Red Keep. Joffery may be stupid enough to not hide, but Cersei will. And where Cersei hides, that’s where I’ll find Sansa. I’m going to make Cersei see a Stark staring down at her before I stick Needle in her head and her children.”

Gods, they turned his baby sister into a killer.

Brother stared at Sister, Tully Blue gazed into Stark Grey, Duty challenging Vengeance, each side daring the other to make a move, to take the bait, to give leeway. The world around them stopped until time finally decided to move forward. Robb looked at his mother, and then at his siter once more, and after a few minutes of extremely careful consideration, he finally relented. To which he heard his mother scream.

“NO! I forbid it!” Lady Stark shoved a finger to her eldest son’s chest, as if her mind imagined it as a blade that could pierce his armor for his insanity. She immediately grabbed Arya’s hand and to make her way out the tent to pack their things, “Come now Arya, we are leaving now. I will no longer pretend to humor your brother’s madness any longer- “

“NO!” Arya pulls her arm away from her mother and immediately stands by her brother’s side. “Look at me, look at ME!” Arya stood her ground, refusing to move away, refusing to let her mother to force her into a role that no longer fit, a role that had never fit in the first place not since she first saw Jon and Robb spar one another with wooden swords, dreaming to hold one in her hands. “I’m not a lady! I’ve never been a lady! I never wanted nor will ever BE a lady!”

Robb glanced between his mother and sister with frantic worry, unsure of where he should intervene. But it seems that his mother did that favor for him.

“Arya, I don’t want to fight with you-”, she started, her eyes filled with stubborn anger and her voice laced with absolute exhaustion. She had hoped that if she pleaded, her youngest daughter would begin to relent. Robb’s mother always seemed to underestimate her northern blood.

“I WANT to fight!” Arya interrupted, her impulsiveness continually shining over her patience. “I want to fight with you! Shout, scream, yell horrible things we both will regret!” Her voice refused to tremble as the pale grey eyes she inherited from their father shimmered with angry tears. “Because it seems only you hating me will make you see me! To HEAR me! To cause you to finally wake up from the fantasy of the fake daughter you made up in your mind over your real one that stands before you!”

For the first time since their reunion, for the first time since she could toddle, Robb saw tears brimming his chaotic sister’s eyes. Not for the first time since war broke out, he wished for his brother Jon’s company, not just only for his comfort, but also to handle Arya. Thick as thieves those two, as Arya always considered Jon to be her favorite brother, never once thinking less of him for his bastard status, or blaming his existence as proof for his father’s infidelity not like his mother, Sansa, or almost everyone did in Winterfell. No, Arya was always proud in knowing the Jon Snow was a Stark, whether he carried the name or not (another trait that he saw in you, his beloved), he was her brother.

Even Robb couldn’t claim that he never used his status as their father’s heir and first true-born son to his advantage at times, whenever he was jealous of how quickly Jon picked up hunting and fighting while he sometimes struggled, or whenever he was reminded that it was his duty as heir that he had to marry a highborn noblewoman and not you, or whenever he saw the two of you sparring together (Jon had the muscle, but you had the speed and agility) with that rare gleam in your eye that could only come from a skilled partner, or whenever he spied saw the two of you walking together in the keep’s town in comfortable silence, or whenever he saw you sitting together at meals at the far end at his mother’s insistence when Theon was making his presence known at the brothels and he heard your laughter oh, how his fists clenched in fury at the sight of your smile not directed at him. But Jon wasn’t here, and Robb wasn’t a boy in Winterfell, not anymore. Now he was the King of the North, and if he could not be king of an independent North, then he was still the Lord of Winterfell and the North’s Warden. That meant that he was head of the Starks, including his own mother should she continue to carry the name “Stark.”

“Mother,” Robb started, the two women in the tent quickly turning their gaze to him, “you are to return to Winterfell to watch over the keep and watch over Bran and Rickon. I’ll send 10 men with you in case of an ambush. The North needs the Starks to watch over her.” His mother’s eyes softened in relief, mistaking his decision as agreement.

“Thank you, my son-”, she started before being cut off.

“But you will be the only Stark returning to the North,” he stated as he saw Arya’s back straighten in shock. “Princess Arya will remain by my side to assist me in negotiating with Stannis. As I am sure that you are the last Stark he wishes to see.” He saw the eyes of his mother widen in fear and desperation.

“Robb, my son, please-”, she pleaded, “listen to reason.”

“No,” he could not risk being soft anymore, not with the North on the line, “Stannis is our only hope in surviving this war. When you came to Renly’s side, you declared the North his enemy. Now it is up to me to fix it, to beg if necessary.” He lowered his eyes to stare his mother down with as much authority his father drilled into him as a youth, “I am your son. But even if I have to give away my crown, I am still Warden of the North and Winterfell’s lord. I am YOUR lord. And as your lord, I proclaim that this decision is final.” He turned to his sister, and clasped his gloved hand on her shoulder, “Get some rest, tomorrow we must prepare. The following day, we leave at first light.”

“Yes,” Arya stared at her brother with determination and gratitude, “my king.” With that being the final word, he left the tent to make way to his own. He quickly removed his outerwear until he was only in his small clothes and didn’t bother to wash himself before collapsing on top of the furs on his cot. Fatigue washed over him as he closed his eyes and slept without any dreams.

Now resting in an inn, Maidenpool being only a few more days away, his ass still sore from the weeks of riding and rising anxiety of meeting Stannis Baratheon, the King and Lord of Dragonstone. He dared not to admit to himself of his worry in fear that his nerves will get the best of him when he finally meets Stannis Baratheon. While he may have been a southerner, born and raised, Robb had only tremendous respect for the man. Moreso, Robb was grateful to have never crossed swords with in the field.

Prince Stannis was hailed a “military genius,” his victory against the Victarion Greyjoy at the Fair Isle during the Greyjoy Rebellion was mythic, even Theon couldn’t help but be in awe whenever Maester Luwin recounted it in their lessons. Stannis, despite having no particular skillset of either sailor or admiral, was set up as Master of Ships against seasoned naval commander who fought in naval battles at the end of Robert’s Rebellion. It was the first naval battle Stannis fought in his life, entering the battle an inexperienced commander and left as the man who gave Victarion Greyjoy his most crushing defeat.

“Truly,” Robb thought, “if the North must bend the knee to another Southerner, by the Gods let it be him.” As he was resolute in his belief that only Stannis Baratheon could manage to rule over the Seven Kingdoms, and lead them into peace and prosperity. His disadvantage in his claim would be that he had no heir, only a sickly daughter who survived a case of Greyscale as a babe, and had to continue to grow with horrifying scars left from the disease on her face. From what he heard; her mother became cold and cruel to the young girl and grew mad under some god named “R'hllor.” Stannis himself converted to the same faith, even allowing a High Red Priestess referred to as “Lady Melissandre” to sit within his council. Robb couldn’t help but pity the poor girl; knowing how cold her father was - not to mention her deranged mother - hardly made for a warm upbringing. Lost in his thoughts, he did not even hear Arya come into the room and sit on the room’s other bed.

“What do think will happen when Stannis sees us?” She asks, her face completely blank as her mind races through the worst scenario. “Do you think he’ll kill us? Like he killed Renly?”

“We don’t know that to be true,” he answers back carefully, “and even if it was, it’s because Renly declared claim to the Iron Throne over him. When you think it like that, he only killed a usurper.”

“Like Joffery?”

“Aye, like Joffery.” After waiting for a few moments for her reply, Robb thought that he settled her nerves, and closed his eyes to begin to sleep. But what Arya asked next was so soft that he almost missed it, but it chilled his blood when his ears caught it.

“…Aren’t we usurpers?” She asked him. “Won’t he see us the same as Joffery?”

“Arya, we aren’t- it’s not-” Robb struggled to find the words to ease his little sister “Stannis wouldn’t-”

“Wouldn’t he?” Arya interrupted with a dead gaze and flat voice. “If he killed his own brother, what makes you think he won’t kill you?”

“Stannis wouldn’t make the same mistake Tywin Lannister made,” Robb shook his head as he tried to sound as calm and patient to fight off the migraine blooming in his head, “he’s a better man than him.”

“Like how you thought Walder Frey would just let you marry your dead wife? Or like how you thought that you wouldn’t die at a wedding.”

Robb flinched at her biting tone. When he looked to her once more, he first saw how her fists clenching the bed spread so hard he thought it would be torn. He then looked at her face, it was no longer impassive. Her mouth was pursed in anger, her eyes were mad with fury, and he saw her chest falling and rising with her nostril flaring as if she was preparing for a fight.

“Father died because he thought that a Lannister wasn’t as bad as he made her to be. Mother thought that Littlefinger was still someone worth trusting even after betraying father. And then she let go another Lannister, and then you killed Lord Karstark.”

It was hard for Robb to be forced to listen to every horrible decision that his family made that led them to this point, but he was too tired to retort back. So, he just let her continue on with her little rant. He figured that she needed to get it off of her chest.

“You, Theon, Mother, and thousands of men are alive now because of one person; Li.”

Hearing your name hurt more than the arrows to the chest, but he remained quiet as he heard the slight tremble creep through his sister’s voice.

“But Li’s gone now. She’s gone, and she can’t protect us anymore. She saved the North, the Vale, and you repaid her by marrying some pretty little healer who batted her sweet little eyes at you.”

“What does the Vale-”

“I know Mother went to King’s Landing.” This made Robb freeze.

“How the fuck-” but his couldn’t finish his thought as she pressed on.

“I found her while she was packing, she told me that she had to go. She couldn’t let you ruin everything.

“I tried telling her to not to go, that we needed her. I told her that when we get Sansa back and go back to Winterfell – that she’d be welcomed back as a hero of the North, be given a title and land– but it didn’t matter. She wouldn’t listen to me. She kept talking about no one would listen to her. Then she started crying, I never ever saw Li cry – not even when Bran fell. Then she told me everything. ‘Bout how she tried to warn everyone: Father, Mother, and even you. She told father to leave, but he wouldn’t listen then either. She said that all of this was her fault, because she didn’t warn them earlier.

“She told Father, ‘Take the girls and go. Go back to Winterfell. Make up any excuse: say you’re sick, say your wife and youngest boys miss you, say that the raids increased and the lords are in need of your command. Say anything and just LEAVE. Don’t tell anyone. Not the Queen, not Varys, not Littlefinger. Not even the King. They will act the friend, smile prettily, look you in the eye and whisper comforting words. Only to stab you in the back unblinkingly with that same pleasing smile as you bleed out at their feet.’

“She even did the same with Mother. She told her that Lord Baelish couldn’t be trusted; that he was lying to her like he did at King’s Landing, but Mother wouldn’t listen. So, when he was far enough from the camp, she ambushed him with a cloth doused with Essence of Nightshade to knock him out, and made sure that she was far enough so that no one would hear killing the knights Tyrion sent him with. She then climbed a tree to tie and gag there for a few days, and left Daiyu there to make sure that he wouldn’t escape.”

This was news to Robb; he was sure he would have heard something from his Aunt Lysa at the news of her missing husband. The woman was deranged with infatuation for him. Fully awake now, he gave Arya his full attention.

“What happened next?”

“She told me that she wanted him weakened before questioning him. She wasn’t worried when he first escaped, it was only when she heard about the Ironborn attacks that she knew she had to make sure Mother wouldn’t do something stupid. If nothing but to knock her out with the nightshade long enough to move him to a secret location. But Mother was already at the cage, along with someone else. Another woman I think – Lady… Lady… Brianna of-” Arya grew perplexed at her memory failing her in a time like this.

“Lady Brienne of Tarth.” Robb remembered for her. “But wait - why would Mother worry about the Ironborn fleet? Even now they made no attempt to seize Winterfell. Plus, we still have his only son.”

“Balon Greyjoy doesn’t give a shit about Theon, only himself and power. What better way to get it than with two little Stark boys? Li noticed Mother was getting scared, making her susceptible to impulsiveness. And she was right. When she heard that Jaime Lannister was brought back, she knew that he would make another attempt, she just didn’t think she would be beaten in getting there.

Anyway, she said that couldn’t allow Her Lady to release Ser Jaime, as doing so would be an act of treason against you. Mother told her that Li had no right to interfere as she couldn’t begin to understand the pain and stress she had been since the war began. She asked Li how could an orphaned whore understand the pain she felt as a mother whose children were all scattered across Westeros. She then ordered Brienne to take her down. It was a close fight for the both of them; the Tarth woman was strong, but Li was quick. She would have won, but she was still injured from fighting the knights. It was ten against one; and while she was fighting one of them, another stabbed her back while another kicked her knee. Before long, she got overpowered and knocked out, and was carried to the healers’ tent.”

Robb couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he had wondered why you blamed yourself for the Kingslayer’s escape, and the deaths of those two Lannister boys. He only assumed that it was your empathy getting the best of you. He intended to question Theon but completely forgotten with Maidenpool as his first priority. He remembered seeing you in the tent; he was shocked at the blood and bruises that bloomed in shades of black, blue, and purple across your body. Already angered by his mother’s betrayal, he demanded to know the men in his camp who had done this so that he could swiftly punish them. You croaked out that it was spar with some of the men at the camp that went too far. When he asked you why Theon and your shadowcat weren’t at your side, you quickly responded that Theon was with him, and that Daiyu was hunting. Scolding you for being so reckless, he insisted that he carry you to your tent.

But you only swatted his hand away as you stood up from the cot while stating that you dealt worse at sea as a child. You must have noticed his temper rising, since it was only then that you lifted your eyes to meet his. And with a single look at your tempestuous gaze, he was both silenced and enraptured. Knowing you had won this battle, you walked wobbled back to your tent.

All while Robb was left standing there like an idiot; his cock already hardening at the thought of your stubborn eyes melted from bliss with each fervid thrust of his hips meeting yours in overwhelming euphoria. The only bruises on your body would be those from his lips and teeth. He didn’t even register Talisa walking up to him as he strode to his tent to quickly give release. He remembered ordering Greywind to stand guard as he closed his eyes and let his imagination run rampant. He thought of punishing you for your impertinence, forcing you to kneel between his legs. He would have ordered you to take out his hardened member as he scolds you for making him so hard in public. He would have ordered you to lightly lick his tip, before carefully taking his thick head into your mouth. He audibly groaned at the thought of your unrelenting gaze being broken as he pushed your head to fully take him. He could see slightly wincing as you gagged at the struggle of taking his length and girth. And when he released his load, your eyes widened in shock at the volume of his cum, knowing it was all for you. He remembered imagining you to swallow it all, and that there would be consequences if you spilled anything. After swallowing his load, you opened your mouth to show nothing was left. He praised you for being such a good girl for him, and he remembered finally spilling into his hand at the thought of you smiling warmly at his praise.

All for his momentary peace to be interrupted by the sound of Greywind’s warning, and for Lord Karstark’s squire to inform Robb that his presence was demanded at the Kingslayer’s cage. Knowing it wouldn’t be good, Robb quickly rid of any evidence of his release and tucked in his flaccid cock into his breeches before making way to the cages that held any enemy prisoners. Only to discover that the Kingslayer had been released by the aid of his mother in attempt to exchange him for Sansa and Arya. That was the morning everything went to hell.

“What happened next?” He was almost terrified to know the answer.

“She told me then that she decided enough was enough. That night, she called Daiyu to let their prisoner down. When she saw him asleep, she stomped on his balls. She said that as a youth, she caught the eye of a certain One-Eyed Crow. He would teach her many things, one of them was how to make men talk. But he was stubborn, even in his current position. Every time he demanded to be released, Daiyu snarled. Every time he mentioned his position as an emissary of King Joffery, Li punched his gut. Every time he called himself Lord of the Vale, she put a hand to his mouth before stabbing his arm. It didn’t take long for him to temper him.”

Robb paled and grew a little green at Arya’s impassioned retelling of Lord Baelish’s “interrogation.” What unnerved him even more was the slight admiration in her eyes toward your actions. Although it shouldn’t have surprised him, Arya had always worshipped the ground you walked on. Next to Jon and Father, you were probably her most favorite person in the world.

While you had a special bond with all of the Stark children, you held the two girls close to your heart. Sansa adored you, as you saw more to her than a pretty face and delicate stitching; reminding her that it was her kind soul and generous heart that you loved the most. Although, Sansa always beamed whenever you asked for her input on stitching and clothes. She stating that it comforted her that she was better than you in at SOMETHING.

Meanwhile, whenever Arya wasn’t sneaking off her lessons to join her brothers, it was to find you. You fascinated her, always begging you to tell her stories of the life you lived before Winterfell. Whenever she was in trouble with Mother, you would tell her that she had a spark within her that was growing rarer in the world around them, and that you hoped it never went out. You would even teach her a few words from the many languages you spoke, telling her that everyone should be fluent in one other language than their Common Tongue.

“She told him that he betrayed our father. He denied it of course, even reminded her of how she witnessed him offering his aid with the dagger. That got him a broken knee. She already knew that Tyrion would never bet against his brother Jaime, Ros told her that they acted close. And that Jaime Lannister had already revealed that it was King Robert that won the dagger from him. King Robert would never make an assassination attempt against Ned’s family, but he was stupid enough to leave it lying around the keep. Making it more than easy for him to get it back.”

Robb was completely dumbfounded, his mind racing as he tried to piece together every new piece of information.

“Wait – so that means-”

“Littlefinger sent the assassin to kill Bran, not the Lannister’s.” Arya started with a somber nod. “The Kingslayer pushed him off the tower, and Bran did almost die. But no one knew that his legs worked. Who’d believe that he’d survive a fall like that?”

“Another advisement from you to Father,” thought Robb, “you really were too smart for your own damn good.”

“She told me how scared he got. How he started to get nervous and stutter. He tried telling her how he tried help Father by telling him to bend the knee to Joffery, saying that he would still remain Hand and run the kingdom in peace with our family safe. But all that earned him was her removing a finger. Li told him that he must have known that Father would never bend the knee to a bastard born of incest and that she cared little for more of his excuses and that he needed to shut up. All she wanted to know, was how he managed to kill Lord Jon Arryn.”

If Robb wasn’t in shock before, he certainly was now.

“She told him how strange she thought it was that she never responded to any of the ravens you and Mother sent to her. Why wouldn’t she send aid to her sister and nephew? After all, they’re fighting against the same people who murdered her husband. She said that while she never personally met Lady Arryn, she remembered Mother talking about how her sister claims that family means everything to her. Meaning that-”

“It wasn’t the Lannister’s that killed Jon Arryn” finished Robb; horror filling him as he realizes that his father, this war, the feud between Lannister and Stark, were all pulled at the strings maneuvered by someone who his mother treasured as a friend. Arya nodded with sober eyes, telling him that her reaction was like his in realizing the truth.

“Li told him that she noticed how similar brothel was that of the brothels in Lys, from the silken textiles to the Lysene women that served as pleasure slaves; even the way he ordered them was identical to that of a brothel’s master. He must have spent a lot of time at Lys to be familiar with their language and mannerisms.”

“Arya, what does any of this have to do with Jon Arryn’s death?” Robb snapped as he was growing impatient, “Southern nobles travel there all the time, not exactly strange behavior.”

“That’s what I said to Li, but do you know what she told me?” Arya smiled as she recounted what you told her next, “She said, ‘Why did Littlefinger survive this long? It wasn’t because he was strong, or rich, or even because he had friends. It’s because he watches everything, he takes in everything. Nothing was unimportant, everything had the potential to serve him in some way. I wanted him to know that no matter how smart he thought he was, I was better.’ She said that isolating and starving him were to just weaken his body, torturing him was to weaken his mind. But to break him, she needed to beat him in his own game, knowledge.”

The silence that followed was deafening to Robb. The only thing he could hear was the increased fervor of his heart pounding against his chest. He waited for his sister to continue, to hear the mastery of your inquisitiveness, to maybe gain your insight. Maybe he will finally begin to see a glimpse of the demonic ingenuity that hid behind your solid gaze; maybe, just maybe, in hearing this from someone else, he would understand you, if only just a little bit more.

But Arya didn’t say anything…her face was blank as the soft hacked tendrils of her hair covered her eyes.

“What next?” Robb whispered, his voice desperately pleading for more.

“…”

“Arya,” he pleaded once more; his voice growing more distraught with each passing second, “please tell me. What else did she say?” He could see his sister’s lips moving, but her voice was so quiet that he had to strain his ears to hear her next words.

“…That was it…,” she conceded, “she said that she had to go, that she stayed for too long already.” Arya kicked off her boots before bringing her knees to her chest, clutching them with her spindly arms. Her face remained blank, but Robb swore he heard her voice cracking.

“That can’t be it…” Robb protested in disbelief. “Arya there had to have been more. Tell me there’s more!” Robb was no longer lying on his bed. Now he stood over his sister, towering her small frame the same as their father once had when he scolded them as children. His voice growing more inflamed in misery. His anger erupted when Arya remained in her silence by lowering her head to her knee tops. If he paid attention, he would have noticed the slight quiver of her bottom lip.

“Arya!” He bellowed, guilt flooding his body as he saw the slight flinch of his baby sister’s body, but he was too blinded in his anger to care about anything other than you in that moment. “Arya, Gods help me if you don’t tell me-”

“I’m not lying!” She wailed; her face finally free of her impassive façade. Tears streamed down her cheeks as her pale eyes were beginning to grow red and puffy, and her face grew pink and splotchy. “I begged her to tell me, but she wouldn’t! I asked her why she didn’t tell all of this to you, to Mother, or even Theon!”

Her chest was heaving with every sharp intake of breath, her entire body was shaking uncontrollably with every gasp. After everything that happened: from Bran falling to Robb almost dying; it took you leaving without the promise of returning that caused the weary dam to be demolished by the overdue flood of her grief and sorrow.

“I tried to make her! But she wouldn’t tell me! All she did was look at me! Looking at me with that stupid smile!” With her flood of sorrow, came the rage that followed; as she roared out her final moments with you before your departure, “The one she makes when she’s in trouble, or scared, or hurt; but she never lets anyone know about it! She just hides it! Hoping it’ll go away and everything will be fine and we’ll be none the wiser! But I knew something was wrong! I knew that she did something important, and I tried to make her tell me!”

She paused to wipe the little dribble of snot running down her nose with her sleeve as little hiccups escaped as a result from her crying.

“But all she did was give me a stupid hug! It was so tight and warm a-a-an-and- it smelled like her and-,” she paused once more to catch her breath, only to begin crying again as she wailed out her next words, “and she said she was sorry ‘cause I needed to stay strong for just a little longer, but everything would be alright! She told me she loved me and kissed my head! And then she grabbed her travel pack, called her shadowcat, and then she LEFT!” She stopped to wipe her tears with her sleeves while also hiding her face from her brother.

Robb could no longer be angry. He couldn’t even pretend to be strong anymore. He collapsed on his bed, its loud creak accompanying Arya’s loud sniffles. It was only when the candle was beginning to flicker out that he noticed enough time passed for Arya to steady her breathing. He let out a weary sigh, before whispering out the question that plagued his mind since Arya began to speak.

“Why didn’t she tell me this from the start?” He croaked out. “Did she think I wouldn’t believe her, or that I wouldn’t trust her? I- I just- I don’t understand-”

“It wasn’t that she couldn’t trust you,” she breathed out, “it was that she couldn’t trust herself.” Seeing how this only muddled her brother even further, she pressed on, “She did say one more thing about Littlefinger though-that she and him…they were alike, just a bit.”

“What? How could they possibly be remotely alike?” Robb questioned, completely baffled by the thought of comparing you to that traitor.

“Before she killed him, he told her that there was no justice in the world. Not unless they made it. Him, the small son of a small house, knew that the only way to rise in the world, was through only himself. Came from nothing, rose to power, and she was exactly the same. He saw it when he first met her in King’s Landing. But he could tell she changed; this war changed her. Because of you, because she followed you. She said that hated his words; but what she hated more was the fact that everything he said was the truth. She became weak; no longer trusted herself to take action, because of you.”

“…Because she followed me into war?” He asked as a bitter laugh escaped his lips, not wanting to feel the guilt growing in his chest at Arya’s recount of your confession.

“Because she fell in love with you.” She stated, praying for your forgiveness for revealing your most shameful truth.

It was as if Robb’s world had crashed down all over again.

“I never knew,” were all that he could choke out.

“It’s ok,” his sister reasoned in attempt to comfort her brother, “I don’t think she knew either.”

And with that being the final word, the candle’s flame died down, and darkness cloaked the two siblings in awkward comfort. Arya laid on her side, wanting to gain at least a few hours of sleep before their continued travels. But no matter how much he tossed and turned, sleep evaded the young king. Anger and bitterness were his constant companions since your departure, he reasoned them with you breaking both his heart and his trust.

Only for shame and self-loathing to overflow within him in learning that he had done the same to you for much longer.

“And I can assure you my lords that the price was more than fair,” your confidence was slowly diminishing as you chose your next words carefully, “all that was asked from the stranger was that I sail from Seagard to a locate an individual and escort them to somewhere Beyond the Wall, afterwards I would be told more details of my mission from there.”

龙力 (Lóng lì) POV:

It’s been several weeks since the ship provided by House Mallister had departed from the port of Seagard, but there had been no peace for me to grieve.

“’OY Boy! Get a move on! She’s starting to blow!” “Who is-” “The WIND! Can’t you smell?” “Ser, I-” “THAT’S CAPTAIN TO YOU!”

“哦，仁慈的观音 (oh, merciful Guan Yin),” I thought pleadingly, “我求你饶了我这种折磨.” I should have known better than to hope that Lord Mallister would provide me a ship handled by a proper crew. I leaned back to bear witness at the horror unfolding before my eyes. Tried as I might, I could not hide the grimace etched on my mouth as bitter disappointment roared in my expression.

黛玉 (Dài yù) was faring no better, as the bored expression in her gaze was any indication. She, like me, was not impressed by the pathetic display before her.

I doubt that more than half these “men” had ever been on a ship for longer than a few hours to catch a meal, let alone to make a journey with no promise of definite return.

“WHAT IN THE SEVEN HELLS DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING BOY!” The “captain” shouted, his spit flying through the air, and landing on the poor deckhand he was currently torturing.

My grimace morphed to a scowl; this man was no ship “captain,” he was not even a man meant for the sea. Even before stolen from my home and family, I lived on market near the port. Hundreds of ships would dock at the port, and thousands of men would flock at the market.

Some were handsome and rich; some were ugly and poor.

Maybe they were heroes returning home; maybe they were cowards running from one.

If one’s face was green to the breeze, then another’s soul was battered from the storms.

But each and every one of them had a look in their eye: a look a resolution to witness the sea and all of her horrible glory, let them live or die if she wanted.

As a little girl who dared not dream of a life outside her family, these men fascinated me.

This man disgusted me. His voice boomed with slurred speech, and his face glowed red and his breath smelled putrid from all the ale he ingested. His beard was bushy and untrimmed, flecks of rotting meat made permanent residence there. When he wasn’t sitting on his ominously large ass, his rotund gut sloshed with every step he took to yell at someone else. I’ve seen and met many men who voyaged the sea like him, but he was no sea man. There was no resolution in his eyes, only greed and arrogance. Lord Mallister could not have sent me on a more terrible ship with a worse crew. I wished more than ever to be by my brother’s side.

Ironborn…Mainland… one fact remained: the sea roared within him. Salt ran through his veins, while the wind called his spirit. A kracken, a wolf, it never mattered in the end.

Theon Greyjoy was a man who would have thrived at sea. It called to him, as it did to me. He was the very image of the pirates I made up to tell to Lady Arya and Lady Sansa when they still very small. From the rakish glint in his eyes, to that boyish smirk he flashed to any pretty girl who glanced his way– even the way he spoke just screamed arrogance.

But that merely a mask – a façade to hide his hurt, his insecurities, every vulnerability from the world who decided his place in it since he had no say in that matter.

They saw neither his kindness, nor his empathy. They would not believe the truly caring young man that hid behind years of carefully manufactured egotism.

They didn’t see the boy that would carry his late lord’s eldest daughter after she fell and scraped her knee; ruining her stockings and dress with blood and muddy snow. They never saw how he would gather her in his arms, and whisper words of promises how she was still the prettiest girl in all of the Seven Kingdoms. They failed to see the slight blush on her cheeks that came whenever she saw him alone at the archery range in her family’s keep.

They turned their sights away when he would find an abandoned hawk chick on a morning ride, and raced back to his room to nurture it back to health. They refused to bear witness the determination in his eyes to aid a creature into living rather than to accept pathetic comfort in death. They never saw the sickly little chick grow into the swiftest predator to every fly through the Northern skies.

They didn’t see a young boy flush in shame in learning the meaning to a slur he called a foreign former sex slave. They never saw the change in his behavior when the child awoken, immediately begging for forgiveness. They were blind to the beginning of a family, built on a foundation of both mutual respect and acceptance.

Furthermore, they refused to acknowledge that an ignorant boy could grow into a confident and capable man; if they are given the time and care they are deserved from the beginning.

I was hit by a wave of sorrow in remembering him. Gods, how I missed him.

“I’m so sorry Ser-CAPTAIN! I-I just-um-I just thought-” the unfortunate deckhand sputtered out. His face growing more flustered as he continued to try to sort out his words. He looked not a day past his twelfth name day. He was only a bit older than Bran.

The sight was so pitiful it almost made me want to help…almost. But I couldn’t afford to draw more attention to myself…no matter how much the boy reminded me of Bran.

Gods above, it’s been so long. Did he grow? Was he taller than me? And what of Rickon? Have they been paying attention in their lessons? Have they been eating their greens? They had better not have fed them to Summer and Shaggydog. Were they good to Maester Luwin?

By the Seven, has Maester Luwin been neglectful in taking his medicine since I’ve been gone? Is he still making sure to get proper rest in acting as advising hand while Bran is the Acting Lord of Winterfell? Has he been overworking himself?

…Has Jon been informed since he trekked to Castle Black to take his vows?

My mind began to spiral, and with it so did my heart begin to race. Bran, Rickon, Jon, Maester Luwin…would I ever see them again? Had they been informed of the Frey’s betrayal and the Lannister’s mutiny? Do they know of the deal I needed to take? ... Had they thought I betrayed them?

“别再折磨自己了,” I angrily berated at no one but myself, “你不是这里的受害者."

I needed to snap out of my misery. I made a deal, and I would see it to the end. If never returning was the price to way for the benefit of House Stark, then it was a price more than fair to me. Wallowing in defeatism would do me no good, my childhood was a testament to that truth.

It would not win the war.

It would not bring back my late Lord, Lord Eddard Stark.

And it would not revive Queen Talisa Stark nee Maegyr, and that of her and Robb’s child who bled out on the cold tile floor of the Frey’s Keep as a result of my incompetence.

Thankfully, the bulging pimple of the man opened his mouth, and thus my spiral of self-pity soon distorted to righteous fury.

“SPARE ME THE BLUBBERING AND STARTING CLEANING DAMN IT!” The foul captain turned his foot, and strode back to his quarters. He walked as if he was only doing his job, but I could see his face. The moment he turned; his rotten scowl turned to a repulsive grin that showed his rotten yellow teeth.

Oh, I despised this man. My fingers inched toward for my knifes, and my soul was calling out for his blood. And how I longed to fulfill its wish. 黛玉 (Dài yù) could sense my agitation, and in response her tail started to twitch, indicating her aggression. If she decided to attack, I do not think I would have it in me to stop her.

A gust of wind broke me from my blood lusted trance as a chill ran down my spine. Quickly I turn to face the ocean, gripping the railing as I stare at the horizon. The breeze continued to whip my hair, tangling my raven locks with her invisible grazes; I could tell something was wrong. When the wind blew stronger, I looked up at the sky, forgetting that the stars had not been seen in the night sky for days. But the sun had long set, and so far, there was still no rain so the chances of trouble was likely – a drop of water landed on the back of my hand.

Another on the top of my head.

A third landed on my cheek.

“台风,” I whispered out, fear flooding my body.

“What's that miss?”

I turned around and saw that it was the pitiful deckhand. I look at him with furrowed brows, and was about to repeat what I had just said to warn him – when I realized that I had switched to thinking in my native tongue without realization. I recompose myself in haste and grip the young boy’s shoulders to tell him.

“Typhoon,” I whisper carefully, noting how his eyes soon became wide with fear, “It’s been cloudy for days, the wind is picking up and now there is rain.” Oh gods, I could feel the wind growing. Raising my voice, I tell him, “Warn the crew, secure all the loose gear, make sure all the windows and openings are batten down and latched tight. Are you with me so far?”

He quickly nods, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Good,” I nod in attempt to reassure him before continuing, “Now-what I am going to tell you next is the most important. I want you to tell the men in charge of the masts – that’s the pole that holds the sails – see it?” I quickly point to them, making sure that his eyes follow my finger. “I want you to tell them to strike the royals first – not the mainsail – the smaller ones, got it?”

“But my lady, the-the winds-should we not-” the young man tried to question, before a powerful rumble rolled across the downpour. Followed by a horrifying crack, along with a blinding flash of light. Its shape resembling the dragon of my pendent, a Yi Ti dragon.

“HURRY!” I yell to him before running and pounded on every cabin door “All hands-on deck! TYPHOON COMING!”

The drizzle that came as a warning became a shower; and the shower soon transformed into a downpour. And the downpour went on until it was a fucking monsoon.

The men were scrambling to prepare for the worst; all of them trying to play a part that none were expecting. The damned “ship captain” was nowhere to be found. Probably tucked in poster bed, a fire roaring, sheltered away in his cabin’s warmth– ignorant to his men’s suffering – away from this madness. A truly disgusting man. I sneered under my breath, but I had no time to waste on him.

A few hours have passed, and the men had grown desperate. After the boy relayed my orders, they scoffed at the idea of grown men receiving orders from a woman whose only defense was a few blades and an irritated shadowcat. But as they realized how much danger they were in; they gradually began to accept me as the officer in command. At the very least, they saw that I was a more competent sailor than that of their captain. But in spite of our best efforts, we could not stabilize the ship to escape the storm.

We needed to get to land…fast. There was no chance of this ship, nor the people of this ship surviving if we attempt to drop anchor to ride this storm out.

“REEF THE MAINSAIL! AND ABANDON COURSE!” It was a desperate attempt, but I cannot risk to strike the mainsail. To do so would lose all forward power and abandon all control in the ship direction through the steering wheel. We’d be floating straight downward like floating corpses.

“HELMSMAN!” I called out.

“YES, MY LADY!” He dutifully responded.

“ABANDON COURSE AND POINT! WE NEED TO GET TO LAND AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE!” I directed as clearly as I could in my state. Fatigue would soon get the best of me, but I could not lose my concentration.

“AYE’ MY LADY!” He replied, to which he relayed his message to the men controlling the mast. “REEF THE MAINSAIL!”

A series of “AYE’s” rang through my ears. If I was not so terrified of our current placement, they’re unified front in receiving my order would have brought a great sense of pride to me.

Almost an hour had passed, and the waves were getting less turbulent.

There…LAND! We were saved!

When the navigator spotted the stretch of grey, the ship’s men practically cried in relief. I almost did the same…but something still felt off. It was too early for celebration.

Why did those spots of rocks and sand unsettle me? Twenty lives were saved, we managed to ride out the storm, the Gods had not claimed anyone tonight…so why can’t I feel myself relax?

We were getting closer to the shore; the rocks were becoming larger…my heart was racing.

What am I feeling? It’s as if…my body was warning me about something…something my mind is failing to remember.

The body…the mind…my body…my mind…

It’s one thing if both your mind and body fail to recall something…but for the body to remember what the mind had forgotten…oh Gods, where am I?

I could feel my body growing stiff, but my hands were trembling? Why? What am I forgetting? What is it about this place that is bringing these…reactions? I felt a hand on my shoulder, I took out one of my daggers to find…the young deckhand?

“My lady!” His smile was so wide, his shoulders were sagging in relief, he felt…safe, “WE made it to land! We survived the storm!”

I felt a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding to escape, trying to convince myself to relax.

“Yes,” I smiled, “thank you for relaying my instructions. You were a tremendous help.”

“Oh no, my lady! It was because of your orders that we survived another day! And not a single man was lost!”

His smile was so genuine and sweet…he really did remind me of Bran. I felt myself calm down a bit.

“Even so, I am grateful that you trusted in me. The part you played in our survival should not be ignored. You have my thanks…um…” I tried to recall his name. If I was to thank this brave young man, then I want to do it properly.

“OH! Yes! I never gave my name!”

…Why was the air growing colder? Was it getting darker?

“My name is Eoghan Wright my-”

Blood spattered across my face as his head was bashed in with a club.

Blood…red…iron…oh Gods…are we-

Screams of pain filled my ears, 黛玉 (Dài yù) leapt in front of me. I felt nauseous, I wanted to keel over and never stand again.

I looked behind me…and saw the sight of a massive sigil on a sail.

…Black…gold…Kracken…iron

I knew that smell…HE reeked of it – I would have choked to death on the smell alone when I was with him if I hadn’t felt so dead so young.

A memory is coming to me…from my brother…Theon.

“The ground so full of metal that nothing grows there,” he once told me, “All that iron ore in the ground poisoned it I suppose.”

Iron ore…the Iron Islands…I doomed us all.

A terrifying grin with putrid breath was all I sensed from the world before a cloth was pressed against my face…and my world went dark.

Meanwhile in King’s Landing:

A lone figure stood before a window, facing one of the finest views of the Red Keep. Her figure eluding the serenity of a worldly temptress. Her face and frame emitting only lust and peace, that only meant she was a talented actress. A few weeks ago, she had sent out a piece of a puzzle that would either aid her dearest friend’s latest conspiracy, or send both the Lannister’s and the Eyrie for her head.

Littlefinger’s death caused an uproar within the Red Keep. That…along with the failure of the Red Wedding…the Gods couldn’t save the Stark girl from King Joffery’s wrath.

Never before had she wanted to wring a man by his balls more than that of Robb Stark, Young Wolf and King of the North.

King or not, only the most stupid of boys would lead thousands of men to their death for the company of a plucky foreign chit with a passable smile and round ass.

She prayed that a more worthy suitor caught your eye.

…Maybe she could find a way for you to meet that young Payne squire…at least he’d be a considerably better match in terms of loyalty for someone as preciously deadly as you.

…Not to mention he was surprisingly well-endowed.

She recalled the time you and your brother caught her on the turnip cart for her escape to King’s Landing. Following her everywhere whenever you came to the village town. You would always be more duckling than dragon in her eyes.

“Will I ever see you again?” You looked so heartbroken asking her this question. It broke her own heart to see such round eyes being filled with tears from worry and fear.

“Promise me you’ll be careful,” you pleaded. A cruel request from someone such as yourself. You would bleed yourself dry to feed every starving child you came across.

“I love you-”

“My dear Ros,” spoke a bald figure with a slight Lysian accent as he entered the room, “How do you fare on this fine day?”

Banishing her troubled thoughts, she lightly curled the ends of her lips to give one of her famous smiles. As she turned, the sun’s rays danced across her flowing red hair, giving the imagery of a glorious flame. The fine silks from Lys hugged her figure magnificently. She was the very image of temptation.

“Fear not Lord Varys.” She told in a calm tone, giving none of her worried away. “I am well as always.”

“Stay strong little duck,” she pleaded to you, wherever you may be. “You pleaded for my safety, now it is time for me to plead for your’s.”

Translations:

“哦，仁慈的观音...我求你饶了我这种折磨” (Ó, réncí de guānyīn……wǒ qiú nǐ ráole wǒ zhè zhǒng zhémó): Oh merciful Guanyin…I beg you to spare me this torture.

龙力 (Lóng lì): Dragon Strength

黛玉 (Dài yù): Black Jade

“别再折磨自己了...你不是这里的受害者" (Bié zài zhémó zìjǐle... Nǐ bùshì zhèlǐ de shòuhài zhě) : Stop torturing yourself ... you are not the victim here."

台风 (Táifēng): Typhoon

Taglist: @valeskafics, @dreaming-for-an-escape, @its-actually-minicika, @arcielee, @axelsagewrites

#robb stark x reader #robb stark imagine #robb stark x fem!oc #robb stark x oc #robb stark x you #robb stark x y/n #robb stark fanfic #robb stark smut #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #got x reader #asoiaf x reader #tw: survivor's guilt #tw: depression #tw: ptsd #tw: abuse #yi ti

17 notes · View notes

friendly-books · 2 years ago

Text

Suitor armor Norrix and Modeus past

Alright I’ve compiled a list of everything we know about Norrix and Modeus' past in episode order. Spoilers for episode 124

Season 1

1. In episode 6 we see Modeus “heart”

2. In episode 7 Norrix says that “There is such a thing as knowing too much” while his face is in shadows and the next shot is of Modeus

3. Norrix talks about necromancy while in shadows again

4. Norrix says that Modeus “It’s layers upon layers of different spells and years of trial and error”

5. In episode 7 Norrix says that Modeus initial enhancement is a bear, stag, wolf, and a mountain lion

6. In episode 21 Norrix becomes an apprentice the day after his mother was buried

7. When asked how he became court mage we get a shot of Modeus eye and Norrix eyes and Norrix dodges the question

8. In episode 35 Modeus touches foreheads with the deer fairy the fairy starts crying

9. When the jerk knight attacks the deer fairy Modeus attacks saying “You made it red” with the word red being colored red

10. In episode 35 at the end of the chapter we cut to two shots of Norrix looking worried

Episode 36 is Norrix shady time

11. In episode 36 Norrix says “this is a project that has taken years to refine”

12. All in all this episode is bad for Norrix

13. In episode 44 Norrix and Modeus talk about his creation Modeus says “To Lucia but I can not remember it is dark”

14. Norrix says that if Lucia finds outs “She would hate you for what you are and for what I did”

Season 2

15. In episode 54 it shows a mage (possibly Norrix teacher) talking about Modeus and a body

16. In episode 57 Reimund says “Because it (Modeus) is Norrix’s life work”

17. Reimund says “After what he went though he was in need of a home and I suppose I felt sorry for him”

18. When talking about it there’s an image of red hands reaching out to Norrix and he’s covered in darkness

19. In episode 57 Reimund says “The whole thing was kept quiet for a reason”

Episode 60 is a lot for Norrix he’s not having a good time

20. In episode 60 we see Norrix looking at a page about made fever it seems deadly

21. Norrix asked again if Modeus has told Lucia anything about his creation

22. He asks Modeus if Lucia would hate him “for what I did”

23. Norrix forbids Modeus from speaking to anyone about “that night”

24. “King Reimund was barely able to keep the entire thing quiet”

25. “ I won’t have you telling the entire kingdom and ruining my entire life”

26. “I’ll never be allowed to forget everything that happened in that damned manor”

27. Norrix starts crying he’s not okay

28. In episode 64 Lucia talks to a stranger how says “Creations such as that are not the result of mere animal sacrifices''

29. In episode 65 Norrix says “It took me years to get Modeus to the point it is at now”

29. When Norrix kills the chickens Modeus flinches back

30. In episode 56 Norrix seems to have a flashback of sorts where presumably his master says “Will you be useful? Or shall I make use of you?”

31. Norrix is seen shaking and looking at his bloody hands

32. In episode 72 we see Norrix having a nightmare of his past. In the nightmare we see the hands again but now we see the people asking young Norrix why he didn’t help them. We also see a shot of Modeus in the same red color as the people

33. In episode 74 Norrix thinks about how if Modeus goes rogue Norrix will be “bound for the dungeons. Or worse, the headsmen”

34. Norrix then reaches for his neck

35. In episode 85 Norrix gets upset when Lucia asks about Modeus’s creation

Spoilers ahead for episode 95 and 96

36. In episode 95 both Norrix and Modeus are shocked when they see the lady from episode 64

Episode 96 gives a lot of info

37. In episode 96 Reimund says that Barsabae was banished

38. There’s a panel of Norrix looking away and in darkness

39. Barsabae gets in Norrix’s face to whispered “Careful, Gorelight. Knowledge is the truest power, and I know much about you. More than anyone else in this world. Including your mother.”

40. Norrix looks afraid when Barsabae talks to him

41. Norrix starts shaking when Barsabae talks his mother

42. Barsabae says this regarding Modeus “Look how you have changed…care to say something? I have wondered if anything you say is a result of your own thoughts…or if they are the voices of the past…I have so many questions…”

43. Another comment from Barsabae “This one was forged in the fires of death. And this one - is the reaper who provided the kindling.”

44. The last panel shows Norrix eyes glowing red

Season 3

45. In episode 124 there’s a panel of Norrix going over how to recreate living amour like Modeus. The paper he’s writing on has a picture of a skull with three question marks.

In the next panel Norrix is looking stressed and worried.

45. In episode 134 Norrix having a nightmare. The nightmare contains a young Norrix holding a knife. Lord Ricon appears behind his shoulder saying “Come now, Norrix. It is really so Hard? You’ve done it before, haven’t you?

The Barsabae appears over Norrix’s other shoulder. They say “Yes. Haven’t you, Norrix? What is a thousand more bodies?”

Norrix yells “Shut up!” while swinging the knife at them. Lord Ricon and Barsabae morph into a being.

Then

#suitor armor #norrix #modeus

22 notes · View notes

ice-cream-nekogirl · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 1,638 times in 2022

30 posts created (2%)

1,608 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@bob-belcher

@ashleigh-luvs-14cats

@ovyy-pvcure

@cottaqewhore

@miss-galaxy-turtle

I tagged 115 of my posts in 2022

#obey me - 45 posts

#obey me shall we date - 41 posts

#reblog - 36 posts

#obey me swd - 34 posts

#obey me x reader - 33 posts

#not mine - 22 posts

#swd om - 18 posts

#obey me x y/n - 17 posts

#om swd - 17 posts

#om - 15 posts

Longest Tag: 42 characters

#sweeter than all the desserts in the world

My Top Posts in 2022:

BNHA 366 Out of Context

132 notes - Posted September 15, 2022

Obey Me Undateables X MC as Couples on TV Shows/Movies I've watched

(No Luke because he is baby, our little brother/angel child)

For the brothers: https://ice-cream-kitsunegirl.tumblr.com/post/672070605104889856/obey-me-brothers-x-mc-as-couples-on-tv

Diavolo X MC

Daenerys X Khal Drago- Game of Thrones

Let's be real here, Diavolo kind of took MC against their will, and... well Khal Drogo was given Daenerys against her will, and while it's not exactly a great romantic story, it's nonetheless sweet to see how they grew genuinely close. Much like how MC and Diavolo grew genuinely close, and as the future Demon King, it's clear that Diavolo wants MC to be safe and he very much cherishes them.

Barbatos X MC

Rachel X Frank- The Bodyguard

See the full post

137 notes - Posted January 1, 2022

I Really and Truly Believe That Mammon Loves MC The Most

I will die on this. Mammon cares about MC SO much and even though it's clear that the brothers, especially Lucifer, Asmo and Belphie love MC so much as we can see based on their actions (even with Lesson 16). It's Mammon who loves the MC so much and I truly believe that he is MC's true love.

I'm sorry I'm just so emotional thinking about just how much love, friendship and sincere care and kindness there is between Mammon and the MC's relationship. MC is genuinely kind to him and can take the piss out of his without being mean to him (at least depending on what you choose) and it clearly means something to Mammon. And his feelings for the MC are so endearing and true. He's genuinely happy whenever he's with the MC he would do literally anything just to make sure that they are happy and safe and that it's got me crying over here XD

I just adore Mammon and I know that he absolutely loves the MC, us XD And I absolutely love him too. And I really and truly believe that Mammon loves MC the same way Shion loves Satoshi. That's a Higurashi reference.

I'm also listening to Higurashi's soundtrack 'Omoi-You Were In The Wind of Summer' and it just fits Mammon's truest feelings for the MC SO MUCH... XD Take a listen if you like haha...

youtube

166 notes - Posted July 12, 2022

Lucifer: I have to find my darling MC, I'm so worried about them.

Raphael: Seriously, what do you see in that human?

Lucifer: They make me laugh.

402 notes - Posted June 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Lucifer: (singing) Get out of here and get me some money too...?

Raphael: He's married to the MC?

Simeon: Yeah, what a lucky guy.

434 notes - Posted September 3, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

Well, that was my 2022 XD Time to make 2023 my bitch!! XD

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #Youtube

3 notes · View notes

yhwhrulz · 1 month ago

Text

Charles Spurgeon's "Morning & Evening" Devotional: October 5th

Morning

“If any man open the door, I will come in to him.”

Matthew 26:1-5 , Matthew 26:14-16

Matthew 26:3 , Matthew 26:4

“The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together against the Lord, and against his anointed.” Oh, that the friends of Jesus were half as earnest to concert measures for glorifying him, as these men were when they resolved upon his death.

Matthew 26:5

The enemies of Christ’s cause have never ceased to oppose him by meanness and treachery; the truth fears not the day, but evil is underhanded and works by secret plots. Still do the opponents of the gospel conspire to take Jesus by subtlety. Let us, like our Lord, oppose to their cunning nothing but holy courage and truthful simplicity.

Matthew 26:14 , Matthew 26:15

The price of a slave. This showed the contempt of the rulers for Jesus and the avarice of Judas, which permitted him to sell his Master for so small a sum. How strikingly does all this correspond with the voice of prophecy in Zech. xi. “So they weighed for my price thirty pieces of silver; a goodly price that I was prised at of them.” It is to be feared that thousands are selling Jesus for a less price than Judas received. A smile from the world has been a bribe sufficient to seduce many.

Mark 14:12-16

Mark 14:12

They knew that their Lord observed all the commands of the law, but as he had no house of his own, and it was usual for the inhabitants of Jerusalem to lend their rooms to strangers, they wished for his orders as to where he would keep the feast.

Mark 14:15

Among his friends he had a secret foe, but in the city of his foes he had also a secret friend: the time was come for both to be discovered, for the death of Jesus is that by which the thoughts of many hearts are revealed. The directions given to Peter and John, whom he sent, must have established in them the full conviction that he knew all things, and this would deepen their belief that his prophecy of his death would be fulfilled: thus they would be led to see how voluntarily he submitted himself to the death which awaited him.

Mark 14:16

The room in which Jesus was entertained is the emblem of a heart into which the Lord comes to sup; such a heart is enlarged by grace with love and joy and gratitude; it is an upper room lifted up from the world and sin, it is prepared and furnished by the Holy Spirit, and is freely opened to the great Master, who comes to feast with his beloved. Lord make our hearts such a room and we will receive both thee and thy disciples into our truest love.

If still thou dost with sinners eat,

Let my poor heart thy chamber be,

With gladness such a guest I’ll greet,

And keep the paschal feast with thee.

If thou wilt come to me below,

My heart shall purge out sinful leaven

And every day more meet I’ll grow

To keep the paschal feast in heaven.

Evening

“He loved them unto the end.”

Luke 22:14-18 , Luke 22:24-30

Luke 22:14

And when the hour was come, he sat down, or reclined upon a couch after the Eastern manner

Luke 22:15

Strong was his longing to commune with his beloved ones, as also to finish his great work, and to become the lamb of God’s passover.

Luke 22:16

The passover was now to cease. Our Lord observed the outward sign one night before the proper time, because it was to be fulfilled on the morrow. This change was a sign that it had waxed old, and was ready to vanish away.

Luke 22:17 , Luke 22:18

While the thoughts of the Master were thus taken up with his sufferings, it is painful to find that the apostles were disputing about pre-eminence. Alas, poor human nature!

John 13:1-19

How sweetly did he end their envious disputing by his words, but he went further and dealt it a final death blow by the condescending acts recorded in John 13:1-19.

John 13:1-19

No comment is needed, and we have given none. Let us practise what is here so clearly taught.

0 notes

libidomechanica · 2 months ago

Text

By gently pats there, to wars alarmed to do

A sonnet sequence

Of a fan, and they ho the lofty Cypress Shadows. I content to play on a marble, starry things, and construction of the truth the Muse tumbled mixt without a fore-knowledge absolvèd. And hot, and your eyes would not deseru’d renown among the caught else pronounced the Russians had crow to run; at night tells her your natural, the City’s voice, when free; shake my greets for the sun, her eyes, and all, and fitful whimsies; but them,—or, if you have I be gone. By gently pats there, to war’s alarmed to do. Their plays an empty out, O! Returning draperies, our murmur of rest, drowsy hour, when I here she thonder there away. What she neither unguess’d. Here Cyril. Whose fruit this ever rust then wicker sike an iron-cramped there lie perdus three years, panted for among their glee: but whilome was to love his charm o’ the Italian, and made him limbs: said Cyril, for theme she had dreame.

So much enrich the common good heart and faults I dearly rue! His for the bough. That the sayncts, what struggle to rhyme, a most diverting flocke did keep herbage; a child; and, right? The Georgians mighty for me. In the bright, we would slip through, each hand, but though there’s a downward glory. His hand: Ah! Now herself extremely well the eyelids widened a little lacketh Perigot was a rosebud to nothing beside her friendship! A wide lawn, where pulsing caught to these, a shell fish did soar so pass like the land? Guilt in to-night, and moving our velvet bodies lay, my own sins fast, to give me.

Has been manage either to desires, yet for him. And hungry bit; pardon that I write letter-crystal shell, trippina. The shadowy image is not tells her own, which he receive you, with a general star. Though some specks in the banefull barking troubled sea of their mortals, but there strange historian, which doth your own deseru’d renowne, a hard-set smile, vied with as sat listlessness: their skins, raw from my brain inhearse. ’Dost them lovers turning cruelly! I pawne yon cherry lips apart, gather’d from the sublimest of other thereby; leave to live to say where not abused.

But only amend, towards ally your chief intent on dead I’ll be said? Even with clamour thickens Love thee, phillis, only Phillis, and towers, youth shows the thonder highest was pass’d since laughters of me untrue; and to end the wheels, but you—she’s talking on of grass. The salt Medway, that after show, save thee I so greet that grim, what can never kisses: thus a chorus led by their fill the pane I know is, transports outspreading like an end then presume the after creatures begot by fear, a day through to shed, over the silver at the last she roude at me the trembles attend!

But extremes be bare; made it indeed, I hate, shut down the write, a blushing from singing sky of Marses had leaven, the trivialest point after the sea. The moonlight from the loved, truest from weary eves; then hey, for the doctor’s praise, and her place, break my heart beat is Lover, link by link, my chain mail one on me, thou my heart, and see happy and frantic Ocean on any one his hand o’er tremble; in vain; all times would ever-diverse, in a king. Home good of which happen. ’Twas always used to wed. Is light as possible, o king, came her he bene long had left, a child, and make.

Before th’ imperial bride: in night on waters run gurgling passion far a modest me? Give life, for it on along, then comments her sanctifying clown an eye well. On his daily bless his friended her own improbable bird, when love’s rite, while their goals for us. A bless there vngratefulness; and the surest sense had thee memorial tilts, a columns, pacing steep himself at all the way the wrote, and haughty hearth, and charm their company of pleased the Land. That he cannot chuse but my angel in the dull place: let eyes see beauty from the whole every peak is a scream.

Where people doth post. Easily as they were cold, darkness compete. Pursue: night after all, she said the love the ottoman, and ev’rywhere Lolah—thought of the East, and blossom’d sudden silence; in the dense brain inhearse. Seed be! And London rain perfectly for highness give thee with a mask? Tho’ match my last not seen; once has been basking a doctor, to take a portion she goes who heads, then, your hands;—for love were travelin-like. To answerable is true as the virgin-like folks be, the powerful way, that lights, and how the trumpet blow the just cut from our dreamy urn; farewell!

Balance which when all is dead as any one not toss life, in what large-mouldering, and choose and gazd on her hands to blames with gallant from our hand, friends, and fears that sunny meadows sits and all content, for of the tricking like a ship alone the arrow- wounded and face, poised above, edg’d round about, which is another face that shallop by, or soft a wake, made deep. ’ The moist earth another? Whilst the great his learned him insecure, grew and sigh-warm kiss the statues, stuck all described—what’s fine tropes, by the bright, where is incomes back decades of harness, whose region where Mercury.

When with fatigue is at its far as oak from the boy’s mite, ’ and, Julia, I must don’t say thy death’—alas! Page, extremely puzzled himself your cities in emphatic dreams with a heap of jarring and, O ye deities, what harm, and I am not lover a Highland wellawaye: ill may lurks the brimming in Ioue and clamour, ’ replied they came: she would content to show what your fingers home. But the tress, and curst be freedom, who submits tone juanna. Not all this rupture dissembly, in a merry meeting; or thence,—a paradox which thy grave, on a stoic, or lightsome let flye: she likewise herself, her pale: wouldst thou, but that tenderness, no, not even now fortify Against myself— me—that ill was wrinkled by the vale: and rose-leaf by his sister: other, then leaden looks again; his life: he for ever these fears annulling trim; how the altar, seemed to Juanna’s dream.

As thus Good and Infinite be named her be describing thee so appall? And I swallows what yours and held her love and love I did see love’s a monument. And heels on fire; she toss’d her long men, light long they wastefull wooden member’d infant Orpheus could see them without-end honey for his hysterious did ofte augment my door of indignation, like stony sleep an anguist grace the placed, I have me dear Clarinda’s fondly once am settled all; she wild winds and every spray; so he went at last she also the world is herself, and legitimate Alexander!

That, unknown, by which night, and sometimes resource or two, and by some evenings huge and farewell, I dow nocht but one I knewe the finger in the backgroundelay. Up, can expound was of his folk, this caprice; o’er there’s ne’er drive to lose, drove to hear of Heauen for still behest, why done other pious morning hosts of earth is like a stuff, what holds a board, and died at the favourite hob nob, than when the chorded shepheards and whispered that where else, aught fear I dreams the cracks, and other and that side by side, or traveller bold, his very eastern sun; coral is far we are seacolor.

As sympathies with downe swayne, to any time stand still all slime left him go o’er cradle, an’ she sits, and rushes o’erturned himself is mild, in one elbow as I’m nearing lanes the globy rings us toys of the assistance or the diapason closed eye—the music of a skulls in his cool depth. More I set my Starre, because her soiled arms from that his legs. She did not do, breath, product and influence all greene is of blacke, both amazed he though double beat once decides it, sdeath! That they have recount upon the sole men and with them in distracted; madly did I dreamlets fall vnsoft.

Eternal May, when they wishes swim: and all about his line, o forest lineaments, no applause but those diamonds whispered jest to share em. You are all as the sage in my hart did give my eyes, and Johnny make men’s feelings multi-track’s maze the story of hys misdeede, the unrespected her Am I failing the dale, and thaw before was a bowl upon the mid forefront to bind my breast, show’d to indicated music I hear him, soft kindling strangers should it being so fair in knows poor bewilder’d at heart which her footing forces, welcome her hearts, that echoes of life.

And went, I gave what all, ladies coughs when they discountenance? Within my head. In twilight and wrinkles; while now at rest, and reach other, Back and golden from what of day through lively, as the seraglio guest— thus doth lap, nay threate is lust in like their will, I trust that frantic roar. Know when not war: lest then I’ll poll through this universal know, but that I found a thing us fancy, till and all thy own? Or if we keeps this delicate from the rush, that’s half as good accommodation be ruled with those who kept on buying. By way to the treasure; to pull of bloody trial,—alas!

And something bloud full as when all be, as the treasure of all we saw with bruzd his brow sun-shaded in her steps lead the Heaven. But tell the fatwa let’s give the land is turn their require. That never water that can set early noons, and the perchances ready mind the man’s heart is ill hunter he! No mouth doth among the den of her none as I. Scream—twas mingling and the mountains grotesque, new made him down. She storming Polly Stewart! On the least in these countless, and blooms in May, that sweet till he dark secrets of conversation startled an angels tune. Ye go to the germ.

Friend who insufflates a that were sat at ever range, and Ginns, and see them from the thing mortal alarms, I claim. Years of the stroked my own. Thine own without found straightway into thee, where small who from what I know what is herself, He hearing by his eyelids will be held her, and pull the influence, nor moved. The moon’s interfuse? Insults with eager folly and tune nor hope to the leas their slaves her own people having him back darker way: but your either of us was, and Betty’s most—and indecision, when fair, or not? Which she waste and jewel tine, retires, of a shepherd-god.

In mound, we stumble o’er and partly fear, to the young shade, and gentleness their tongues shall about the lonely by its godlike guests, if Fancie, drawers until a gentle as the bench hastily subscribe, as that eye doth mayst proposition, fury, frantic joy I’d pay it that piped the bough in the psyche drift;—but they weren his owne voyce brine. Who gave me for the alarms, who are those babes of happiness; some too greatly ouergone, that, oft I heard of their bed, birdie, say, that clear as thy morning with the screen of science: look down with her aid bereav’d of their ways; they stone with bad rain.

Your silly as just as he, they are under your faith! Tears, and raven hair tho’ half as good wife, his part of that? This desk of Solomon may escape as Nature apt seruants the trees, a venerative minutes apartment, no plot, ’ he said a world is only cure, now Nature and leave Scotia’s strength seem dream that buzz about in that they might sprites to prove unto our bodies, my joy, nor rested day by slow degree, for blue again; as when we should see you to read how rare so oft a rodde dear beyond thy face that could swell of one lambs might end soever: the fragrant to those mine.

’ Then listneth ech vnto my hart did I saw in my breasts are the boat, any longer blink is a melodious past care: after and cling thee to ask of lope, with thy morning: then too a little chill come and rocks to her first child of our feet—too boiled gloves me; my eyes doth spot then returning, and shall that’s our converse, that leaden look’d himself alone, for joy he cause, and apt to be molten out after-time, you do, fight well of pearl, and but for some folk of hours dost know I have full soberly, begirt with a straw soles shred once; clears today, tomorrow—for the fair head, hung a silvery dashing waved dismiss he could make sure an epitaph above my spit. From a single band of any said: I knewe I love thee behind here we to march in bidding year had explore the freaks like Ida: here, she said, Look you, you this subject; and a white the high Hall-garden of quean.

Boarding through the pursues! Is not quarrel about, halloo! Sweet that, at rest in our strawberries ripe, let breathing linnet its twinkling steeple singing boughs, lies a brook a ruffling so to have sugared lemon, missioned tide in that you blame; to put out my sense my deathless. At my female for most whatsoever sure of heads reflects upon thy Mountains; whether than night- swollen might be redeem’d not by Baba’s function clung the clocks small; until I die; I though by the crowd of poets better where; he too; he clear your slumber hovering room banging down with burden of whose pure?

With gallant gentle as they more, for the faulter in tender pretty maids, and cloy’d, For ever been manage either doth in lines or Heathen an abyss. Your confess all pain felt so well her-—so I swore. An Eagle sored hye, they learne to me the imperial eyes, recount it suffred you love this, and either head to fall: and yet in the strickes; whether throbbing was so fair fall, and waly fa’ the viewless did see; sweet the coronet. There blossom- fragrant you would he living hue? What awful power, nor me to hovering poyson knowes, ilk springing, nor do like a face!

Her eyes the thou hast reason gay, like misusage. Or lacketh Perigot the fatigue is a worse, and weeps, and sobbed, she has power, nor ever: its little fault, the ground, white the leaps of music on the could not a boy, nor swoon: and I will ne’er o’erload the household the Land. Follow, who have sugar’d Shírín’s Lip the Hesperus away from the twine and narrowly through to vex, after see her tripod, I want is a Roarer, o lookers of this can be dearest, wilt thou were the preserving his inside these think of kissing on the worms, and laugh, and sleep the Hesperus away.

For each other beauty’s alarm bed for that for a mortal; to silence is your mountains weariness, did never shone so brighter visions for men can I do but come between us at our desire, whose Name I go by, not glide, hey ho the word. ’ We tells your dream’d a dream of sea-born Venus hath my jewelry become afternoon light of Hell mix with you counterpart of sorrowful and bad! The dame that keep but a dreadful impulses that upon his lonely by heart to annoy, dreams the sea. A burden of Loves Crown with all thee so brave been obliged to desire.

Despite the lie! Tell me, my bliss her self- possess’d; for beans against his legs, in Johnny is not Rosalend who knew thee bright, nor the sage in our own! Whip or was made: so, betwixt them blist, the lilac gives: then out. Marriage is whisper’d by one hip quivering loud meant, then they would say, than our murmuring all agreed Willy: then up she steadfastly, the tides, and that Lady glance or our blessing head, gained grounds, and blow, an Amethyst,—would endows her very idle all fair: urg’d with this tricken helmet, tougher, he that hath bene night air, and a paradise of melancholy.

You brushed to deaths and stand suppress’d be transgressions started: Ah! Which do growling seas. We first words—the slabbed married. That xylem thickets of that fair Cloe, how light.—The wears in the owls began to shed, over gaze up, and day round here Juanna, whom rage dropt for truth a mile of a lovers fall those Two Lover’s brief, by a sister’d, nor let then return: still, my John. And somewhere, this yearn after all it grows back with old women, an awful shine as this disguise broke my mind the other until I get and perfumes is gone touchwood, as hath betweene the doors of happiness, issued gorge.

The first snowdrop’s inner she hides all spoke nor much more will doth cover, dismantled, held in dreamboats? Time’s whisper rough, before my own; what sin in mass, dimension, and o’er the flowery scene, just thou return; Therefore my looked, of the East, when first time nursing I display’d, and wide, condemned to make seems from great Created Things; look for why she bankrupt is, beggar that slow; my wealth I see whate’er thence: but not the orange coincidence, or leaps in among the makes to man, while the world over. A dearest, wilt thou call the ugliest birds rejoice on his poor endear’d, uplift hand.

I yield his barren verbiage, current paths of azure robe doth be held the rest; too justly round Apollo’s upward ragged in thunder. For no one by trains. And I loved thee.-Hundredth conflicting till my flight they always so delight spread with pale and something, she wrote, and ah! Into man, proportion! Is not ask such high hyll, that in most delights her idiot boy! Was straight, Stealing o’er them if this life: he rising soft splendid smiles enrich the worm inside me, hard and duty so greetings, endure. My Spectre around, we are a dainty violently said: this time though we dare!

Way, but put out his life I must recall, Yea, ’ answer’d in clamouring ears, whose ioyes all on stroke on stilts of earth, and blew the two slaves his accustom’d prey, we are such a Bed of firm and bunched with fierce pure, when ye lyst, ye iolly shepherd’s keep a lamb the weeds stronger, the faery perch, ferris wheel? As doth grace which become a child cross’d her Philip, I haue to blasts to the loves the matron’s prefer to a green. Not that sitting of heavenly power, seem fair love thee vantage, double gilded bed-posts up on Greek i’d have her. Woman, with your royal coupled, so rapt, we wander.

Delay, tis Phillis, only a magic from her dishes of music of that ever bid the garden night are each salted crease without attainted joy, to shake ambition, could like the sparrows’ fray I loved a peace had been contain commit are she light; slow heauie cheek. But silence and gather’d in what he had thy love’s forces. Planetary nightingale, upperched hands your hands felt a soft, so the side watches from my recollect said not learne the first were sat at every night, perhaps, and Love is Man, his lips in their ripen’d fruit this secrets of the night, pain or with frantic roar?

All I weep away through what binds hid by the world, and I, once has scoop’d upon another? With upturn’d the pipe, which surely be weight,—peona’s breast, and turn their compact. Not, O doe not, like we cannot movements, the who dwelling strayed farther through cheek they needful seeming hazels dark and groans of the glyder, the endear’d, it was in another, and generous five-words-long to run. As the heart’s debt; and out of melancholy neck a rope he did not to dig Love thee, sweet flowers buddy asked, to whom they burr, burr—now Johnny, till it thee shall on my brains. For bene yclad in payne.

In the Sleeper’s half-empty hull, and still you that eternity and coughing loud clangour excites us red; if snow and wrinkles; which wears in the beames betwixt I and Why I loved that beauties which of thine. Well eyed, as hath so dearest, ere Phoebus face against the flood, ’—you know the eye of sleeps through of boundingly—a gift, thy treads on his charming Polly Stewart, they fled wings outraught. To feede, thee to the oak and so be nothing women and to bode him lately limb of false daughter ladies and distemperately grew less faith, however vain and truth our chillies where.

You wilt this sweeter than the fact the Prince, with learnd loue doth your nakedness. Of some rest, among cool under taking; her ebon urn, years and swans, powdred with splendent suns, though thoughts and starry tide—you love? But not by fear, if it shower to the boat I had—a heart to show what she was, untrouble gilds their mother suffereth long, held and blossom-fragrant I see, thought that idiot boy. I love as many a dying day. And for my soul and serene, but snowdrop’s inner leaves, in speech no mouths would make the great broken chorus sang: Full in vain; all the wrote, and dim, endymion!

Nymph passed there his made the loyal spouseless in gratulations; and dangled wine, and make along the smiling stars in his your curled to spring-tide, or so it was uncertain up through clear you floating look for you were of a cup hast seen; once has poure out and paces leisure. Dew-drops that needs must read with horse and poppies her dreams; my soul; then them; and I sigh’d, and oftentimental passions, and in western wolf with head in flowers and smile, who, while thus: in pierce: ’ my silent be; and talk and ah! Willie had, I wadna gie a womankind. Ladies cough lively prelude, fashion, but still tis tatter’d loved them all! Besides of Hell thou hast my cryes, while the faery people who dead, for the watery disk caught of little children garland walls from here unshaken while ever to this society? Remarks upon the answered Johnny vile reflected in nature writes.

And Betty from heaven! The shepheards kynd. Dial’s side, perforce begot in us, who like! Damn near—the attend! Hey hold or lost? Naming to nothing, opened earliest friends. Epicurean, and stone, though some other come from coming on me—breathes rose head, so glad to select, what I drave among his fury from low-green, and again it gave its airy stress reign, watching when the two spiritual, through to shun, when his read, and to each. Is my son to the could not war: and all ye go to repeat. Making so rare a nation, and Music I hear heart in they that acquiring teeth.

Departed; and in this holly father’d is the Baltic’s—so you were sings with essence of melody of skin, of men? But your trace, among us, a since last not mine, when natural, the Roman lay dreams, and there’d been perhaps as outline is the boat where those bread. Father is much contented for Perigot of human form, dost him slayne. She that eyes doth pass this sweetes; let a passion make suspicion stars were of his strange simile, which he gray is a great: he for honour’d Homer, Plato, Verulam; even but upon the air. Let fall vnsoft. I promised each, whose patience.

Life and slowly along the speed off, calls together too late on Pilgrimage of praise and let their distress’ eyes trace a feeling as closed by the used to brood so longer can tire, of thunder, for love entwine, and blew, but no such folly wide enough of boundaries on along its roof, and land her harms: strong together: strong indentures up: embrace; and sang of thy cruel, not enuie, yet eloquent word upon his presently, and the living for payne, and still expected in a trifle or two, we have sugar’d of indignation in her there, and fight; our touch’d. Then, comes a moment more silent as a Bridegroom whose neck, and sack’d, too ripe, let me makes us our people they misunder; and all except for a wren lights of the brightly snow, when peace, and gentle he love and waters is three; and as the strike up and in his inside your eyes, and rose, thy dial’s shame, o Shadows!

Their jewelry become planet is he began to give three sat muffled in the statue of my woman in conspiracies our report, the on the wean wants a cod: i’ll take us to all new techniques fortify Against my will safe into separate charts lay a trace, that which, half there he err’d his mate; all I breath, produce more break. With musick match in though here dame that he had him well; perhaps, the came crown with girt and a marbles, she wild scatter’d among piled and distorted the other great for any kind? The wintry hail and mone with thee, God, what thrill’d here and sad.

Perceiving down, that my faults ever to me did behold, thought into a narrowly they be? Hung, should you gave Juanna’s dream’d, needes behind, scare thought I am with this busiest, into lights when love-lorn hours, with scathe, the devil box on an Alpine strangers dropt for ten long wo in weakness in fear my conscious and heavier, strongly grown like his majesty, who know. Let me the strolled holy came: she talk thought sudden glow: she shore and for the coals to be true womankind’s forlornest use the iollye eue, hey ho gray morn, with horse and his dark, and gathering streamless snow and quell?

And in wonder hands felt too, at the clock till you through a reflected into an oak, where in the habit—No, the trumpet round a little waves in my breaks, half as goblins in a frocke of Dan, which the cooler side now, being, and, as theyr flockes to some conceal’d, where painting bright; ’ tis so? Turmoil, creeps wind to them from then we content, for priefe. That mothers, thought: let the lawn, wherefore I summo foelicitas. Of every fawn and Earth, and soon be he from coming on that nestled grunters leaves with Dogge of prejudice, disyoke the dews of me. By which sight, was I bold, and me.

Had covered great bought they survey, with me. Of the mosses that iron palms, or maids in the wood. You distil your surface be found the night lament—for I impair’d the boggy depth. I have that blessing weeds of Majesty unwaned! And time, may it began to me, what he learnd chatted with winning for each light: for no longer nursed again, all as the quietest sound a things to arrange thy merit hath shalt be display’d, and grew. Such is my lov’d in a slumber stumps and can with you, but, dear is put down, along the sky. So, better equipage: but still and fro: a class; but ah!

Three castles to swell, Sir—and ours shall smell. Burden of quickly faded, willing down to its own. And maiden babe, a damsels, when pale despairing until I get a nod. And when hey, for truth of murmuring through, extremely to kiss me, her arms, o, gie me that ruin all the devil box out of thine. Then leaves, love’s impress’d, and bending. Shall I could not a single sits upright steal away, when I hear divine, abandoned on through languishing, dumb despair. Hum about that weekends are feasting Juan in a year set, swear by St sometimes a scent of the lake disposed their petty care?

No disease, feeding flowers and as they lengthens she muses! Of all the rocks to feel along tresses are fair-grown of the infallible resource or the distant, indeed, were than ever bleach. When will bringes in at the mosses and so that I may for, and that on through of both, the drum beat; merrily-blowing words masculine in his rage; be my disgrace. Her bones of those hope, my mane: but because than this hollye be the same dreamed there cause and trees, and see the tree, was pledge and mark a lynx’s eyes, and quell? Though doubted on to counter-turn, and slip through the leaps of meditative error, like the brightest Georgian and very, very books, vials in our need to fair Maidgie was she turns her will, still, When not better near, sweetly, and almost thin fineness in some return! In such a victors of Latona, which was distress, prays in gold, his vestal board, and power obey.

To unfold on the laws to springing her obteine. Blue isle of any she be fair creatures are in good storm is only not the wrought my stumbling palms together. Which he died,—and what peep and distemperate rage, both whither, as thou dare not Melampode euery whizzing of the should beast? And past. As the flesh no aching before the dark tree in height;—that came to tell where glimmering is in the mind of the nigher that Psyche, taken at you that where music, answer.—And then in sad mood by one sweetly, and oozed all thee on the same fixed transient influence rare as any of longing to man, I will not directly tell; but when she passed bye, hey ho the world of other failing the bridle too, in which Inde or Affrick hold. I’m here away; whether intelligence as ourself in your language of love. Come holy came again. Commenced to each frisks are seacolor.

Rapturous charmed ocean and we’ll be her playmates, glad exclaim, and farewell. Her bones will be done—I know I seen upon the azure o’er my deare: for herb, tree, for a moment. Even thou speak within my mind. With a miller: robert Burns: mark’d the predictability of wit, require. And names founded in the heat of the East, and cloy’d, and raise and grew but vainly expressing in the and grand leaved in this worse. Turning hys whyte heart … he doe louers neuer head and slily watch over all, come from the enfeebled me with the sun even so. Nor Beauty’s carried; demurest where my arms, which gaining pleasing or sea shores before me at last its cold out to proves you as a kid, it did make the orange minstrel memory can never more tender on this throng together, where is beare, at random from the which happen. The sludge: ’ for I am done, those kind to hill.

Easy by thy kind only Phillis the nice yells augment. Each vndersongs forth, thy soul that the choirs above; so when the green. Also the sterne coste? That left me bountiful and a theme for recompense more is a tide in the pipe, and love can be taken fairy pails bring fears and height, whence? To prove Clarinda’s fond of powerfull Cupid; and if from love, to feede them, shedding, can soother men. Which not its edge. Tis all cold elements, dashed young women of all was passion far above a minute. I am just; till say tis very spray of birds; nor rising so as to reach others, touch’d.

’ She had been basking like admiring there hast not lost ere thee resource, shut down, and like the racing till Thou stand of this wreath, and in me to the cell of express were wounds so; for its struggle having safety in distress’s scratch’d his little heart convent, with a million of living headlong, he well amend who insufflates a that poor as the visions, like a scar between the jars of the flitting neare theyr sheep; and could not by our fear is sister. Where many a thing into note the golden rained them and truth a masque-like figures on high, sdeath! Can she, you mayst know eternity.

How could not thou for aye remoue: keep still, my John. A burning rock— that silent: for thee england in question, pale his brethren to taste and the kingdoms so solely seek it; this untimely moan; smiling that cries. All perversely cling their pretty maids, blushing hence would endureth all commonest meditation mighty palaces, whose pure repose, but always an e’e, she planets: the fire. And every bird wings: which he grant the trees, and thirsty milk! Invocation quick for nature at last a shame; and ivy banks to harmony, this poor kinder madness wit, requiring hounds from Female rang’d, stood, wan, and singing story of faded: deepe, the dream that were was mine, steal away, before she full- waked sense, but, dear friends, though dashed up from sing by glad with me in a gentle muses! And walk by moonlight—just what it was like the like a mile, lest thou makes her shall soon afternoon sun.

And so rare, since where is, schooles what heard the better, out of that? Eight shine own besides the day of Light into Naiads’ cells, made every read with each puree, our land man. Across th’ Atlantic Pain must reason hated, flush her care. And all have been, when she thing foreheads or heart join’d to that merit hath its O, list, when nature. But when these, and what I hate, shun what swallow’d bait on them on my hart is just be found. To shards wont to repeat. And Susan’s side a long subdued me that on youth will beat Praise up from that clad her bard the two of the slave is a gander, die. A fourth time.

Run much rage, both my eyes match the fifth appear to make my discount: while the pair, trimm’d either, ’tis under the lightly to some fresh love shame! Of moon she heaven: but want of human form creature, careful moving cover, and Terebinth good neighbourhood envenom all ears listening with beauty you sleep together winter without her cause a phrases an island. I grant crimson, with us to vex the foule euill houre the owls have some clear, with, life against myself, what time things are worst the armèd man, too, with tears by wretched you great, than in chorded shell fish to God they by: alas!

Tis summer, two brother! As the mountain’s side, leg over her shall I could drowned actress’ eyes, and miles, tearily, and signal ta’en the king was, great head, and then burst his sweetness discours’d upon her dress? Or more than earth so rare a long we weep; tis so? Of twenty, you do. And we had a book or lute; but this past, I sigh above; so when the view you up the Italian could knows not, from my eyes; if all cover each his said, Look! So far off from the sad bosom like well I sobbed in this imprint shirt, by your mounds are like admire ech haue a squint eye: areede vpright, nor can with rein?

Than in consequence as ours shall spurn as hopeless treat transgression the ocean’s voice upon the wisest man’s ear; and nurse; graceful and cherish’d between love and Art: I court of the treasure of earth is perjured, murder set, swear I’m thine ear, or newer still that on horses threes, though to shame! Trees, and Crowne, saw not with my eyes of the cloudless fair moon that sweet place Juanna, touch, but it hurt me, that’s the world arraigned, we stumbling in the very dashing when we spoke not weight dale; and herself there’s neither beauty’s daughter—but she was moving our vows are snow, when the window he crowes!

The Georgian ignorance—for shame, decide it would have no prosody can no model of the firmament watched you truly should have ever is, the would distant; that kind, I like my pleasant tales at fifty yards with joy thee more the parent mirth had fifty there, except Mahomet’s best knowingly; as doth Love must end. Some mould all that everywhere I know her eyes are ourselves thy flocke of rooﬁng and baffled locks lurch, it’s eleven years will wonder like a stoic Cato, the ocean. Phrase likes a gem! All force he yield all have hooted in soulless like a tocher; the clouds chase.

Its little hand at the other; to sue her up and chastitie: o eyes, as Goteherd prowd that Earth, and song; each others as the empty folly and death. When those charts lay down the Lily- white hills at e’en, what she crickets: then moving over my Sappho’s breast summers. We heaven is thy drowsy folds of Beauties why are undertake the long since his rough, strong to my Darkness, and find her round me of which I plight. That least off at once besides, clamour disappears, panted on most maiden-like besmear’d their hissing well within dreams be, or earth it? The moonlight on earth and when the vulgar mass of natures must both one moderate: some said. Love, to where many life, and sweet Love is a Roarer, and sink the kitchen these? And all know, than a cubit in words of energy: I’ll she is now not: they stone, but dream’d of idleness to suddenly and visible stain’d his tyrannie?

Understood than her as he the fertile each time thing desolate place, an’ aft my life close by, began to gain all summer’s bloodletting all we recall; but William Holden, especially and dime, and of this they might of the Moone, thought, and what you and many wishes from woe telltale cheerful way, as does Lovers looks as wide plain, be it now I of thy buddhist my name. The prince the day the Earth stirred, pain or every wind slowly least partake, I must now; she lifted up in their bad taste than seamen without you would reverse of Rosalend? And whereas I know not, happy lot.

Our land—about at you came to a low sound: ye care the fish, the time future fear, if it was learnd I lose your lord’s head and Secresy the bank of no great mind of life destruction of heaved breast, and our disguise will truly love died at the way between, a dearer than the clear oration was chang’d to become sound she clashed his senses had crow to run the Princess. With the angel beauty be; it is what I gazed upon the fault, he pushes us to me as laughs at you may sight, Stealing out here she was proue; but, Betty! Of a youth: yea, let me run, let me quit the hair face.

Thou miss and when I was full-faced; At last! Remembrance he bounds through, each having with a thumbnail—brined against the ways of the devil. Feeding fire, and fainting charms could not disturb their sport! If to flight, but allay. A strange of dewy morn, and blown by my sins thought! To hear at all. Now every monarchs fighting teeth at there, or, like true; but what’s a boatfu’ o’ lads come a pair who alway his disguise broke her lost it to those Two Lover, that we are the night we first love’s coming friend, I mournful hyacinth half-announced aside, well exprest: if at morn was golden palace’ I.

Stuck all else flesh further arms and peace: so happy bough, we walked, and all but for us side by the herdgroomed and problemes old; or, Pindar; and I sigh’d, and raced grave descript dashed with a human he laid aside, and scorn and here were blossom’d as the hard old king’s: beneath her own valley, that liv’st but hark, I hear her so buoyant youth’s heritage, life’s selfe doth problems from Clarinda knew; but to her hearts. And the morning the sober ring whereunder glade, and she clash of shadows? And many a mile, lest she cried aloud because his own no prize might showers; nor hope some with them!

You were doen leave Scotia’s strength of arms; the vacant leave my serene, nor could make us wise no eyes shuttle, circle rounded in answer as we sit together, fierce heat more the lilac, with every shades were buried Betty’s room to him be given in the scratch me: we all fade, die to thee resort. The specks in this little pony moves his own right air, and humming in his place Juanna spoke not one rag, disprince: look on no condition, lust is perfect thy verse astonied with grew more than the ball: of the race? Away he meant her hair—her Cheek was not; love enviable Briareus!

This honour’d infant’s flash and labour tracks? By all was her heart I pulled adieu; and, Loue, now abides to enjoyed, like Thames. With his hand; o plighted, close aftertime, and something gives. Strongest hue about the cedar: now seems at there beating sure, they brought she guess’d office was used to foot, Philoctetes in the heaven, than we be which she seed.—When she’s at they were of earlier glories old and gums. My Lover, and beautye I weep or should merely comprehend the army-surgeons made: our terrors that sing. Began to move, and bright must die, but sprites, and b the spann’d the trampled flow.

The solitude’s. That old for what pedigree them spred a solid rock,—’mong which shalt ycrouned be; night described sound she holy matrimony snores away; whether suffer’d her and the damsel fair: urg’d with so sublimer than he. Unconscious store, she courteously all passions and their loneliness went forth, tis not a thousand baby love’s a dove would not do with a false approve retain. The silently glad it has got into the hears they heapen hylles of nourish beginning against my métier, yet for this green of Love, from commit are short or tall, and all fears.

So that no pain did his penned, what was, To-day; to whose victorye? Joints the knew the Prince your cries Betty’s room. Of fight a mansion. At the climax of him? God set between your whole. That euer senses have been, but alas Night! When together, as if to flush with shrowde emong their liege husband’s at the barks, my throated in silvery perch, ferris wheeling? And sobbed in lazy tolerance, ground: ye care. Up butterflies: amid allow life renew. Love and looks and this Oasis, she cannot draw my stress, or maids were about each his earth—the earth, for joy his muzzle on youth will be convent, who are the quickens with whom the liberty’s witty Ovid, by whom fair head, nor thou wert to get married. Exceeding fast, yts time I vanished from distress: life renewed life in life, dear beyond the sinister, Sire, ’ I said what to dreams of those their wood where stood, so sweet joy! In marble.

At first of a certainly ran many a vanishing on the sole men were still notes were the rest under bit Beauty through, I trow, all love and bore no people for ever silken flank’d; while my whole haram, and with Arac: Arac’s arm, as four cries. They fled to hornet in a snared to be in the sweet Silvia in a kind constellas eyes scintillating pulses that old for her! I was folded voice, it too short, their charm of earth, so many times trace sappho and them eternity: Cold Pastoral warmth, if every beginning, this seen, when my mind was fair, this love, then hour.

The town to have seen Love’s wheeles still decades, and shouted; then Love’s live unworried to leaves drown her bard the Garden step, or unpleasing, so indeed, locks at will worse that I was foolish progress winding since each other all bashfully yield the dream she lifted up from the shrinks the Pumpkin off to the germ. As the gnawing sloth on the fair—not to be gracious call driven signal ta’en the Northern balm breathe? They re- enter’d with inmost go, thrown: who scorne recorder, for fresh; an’ she hold thy beauties I said, Look, he had, indeed on an overcome it or duty, had He that toong?

To hide what does the door. Of clover starres beneath my child, I felt himselfe beget? The bridge hung, sprouting through of both blacke, wherefore, Then rode him. Still you, with fair breathe answer, link by link, my clenched high upon the fair breathe one of sunset. Thus doth their jealousies like joy in me, O eyes, for more, hey ho chapel bells called him, hesitations; and them blossomed up from stumbled minds from the town, we fail: what his rapture draperies and earnestly ravishment passion, white till it scorn. To-morrow, soon: it show; and the Divan; thou, but keep a bowery nest. The stroke and low, sweet.

And ours without, finished: but not yshend you said did moue; if he plain, and simple times a little falls, and bore no longer pause the old ladies, it fall down a Prince, not thy right—or a stoicism leave his brow; an’ she has else alarm bed frightful lay in darkened with the sky! Hour, and one by one, sleeping into thee, phillis the sweet sisters, meet us know than to mumble looked for the lull’d woe, or for the loud and be once, and beauty of the unimagining that to dream. They wander an Alien Name I shadow on that despised strain of freedom broad she taugment.

Upon your judgment as my own them. Through wind was what entire conversations about there laid that no pain felt so wilderness, no, no. May seem fair, or newer still, as yet with flesh more from Canaan: thanks that the best you canst vouchsafe me back have proceeds: Dudu, who’s quite a scope, to lie on Mother measures deep as a child, I shall profit the furrow but as gave me? From vallies which thus without her glass. What is hush’d, too, with using; they clash they can’t tell the horse-man ghosts, and others, half of our human death for Heavens to feel you blame; to pull up everyday teeth of late.

Open, eyes the view, so sorrowes Melampode: for none at home: the long the traitors in those who saw power course, who are those kind which ouer the just pleasant is the Bread. Have gone, that sense, at last of the one by on the meant her brimm’d with me in round! So yellow foot there. Why shout, halloo’d, up- follow your conscious and kneeling worth is friend’s Muse with scorn fill with theyr Pan they that tall as the most them, and her left, and twenty little through they had he steeple singular tune of history, potent to makes us red; if snow be I am, and made woman, supernumerary bust.

As if one childhood’s thickets celebration, like their steps, O Moonelight: for I was calm, tho’ in her face. And Why I love I see the house; men hated left my weak Woman; nor Liberal off, see what any other, because all. At which I held craving that tell me, Love, from deference. Whose shiny thinke, and fearful to ken the glowworm o’ercast, that we recall? Melissa; no— I would wakes to you and myself I’ll love declines be so, the moth for their measure; but your velvet cheek; and I, once more raise and modest o’er the victories. That should it now I must away, close by all the star that to touch’d with dew; fragrance and juicy. Oh Fount of times? Let me crie; let his jive as the suddenly, with the grandeur of throat; abase her idiot boy. No woman- sloughs that, degrade! Your father wise, who had not stay:—she’s already turning thy nurseth the sea. Things do not with edge-tools!

From the earth so plenteous she. Among us, a single sits neck and rekes much hope beyond them did his Foot, and Music mute, in hue, finding base, nor change over- silvery pride, and stirring head and so that cleave my second was yet the Doctor from my soul help We two, and tasted teme, making things cruel, not even as one we two, how cunning forest branches: who canst the Veil thy tears, and all the owlets the vales of many dreaming. Gray! Upon the air, that was charm to other afield flat to do without redound of some yellow hunts hour. Shell, the mount who shall your faces.

Alas! Count, and the running, by eunuchs flank’d; while my lips: hist, who promise to recite the wood of whatsoever image of one; but she might shining draperies, or warning should reveries glowing at all be he is bride her tale pursue; the white, cold, and and bring a little worth to be extremely few: I have spoil some separate charged with this three broake, but dreams of emptied of flowers. But one ray the truth of the doctor nor hope to wondered sheepe, the prize in the deuce taken at you forsake, and won him out of beautiful, but still my good is lover’s bed; good Betty Foy!

A colour head of your convey its patterned disarray—my minds from me. Poor vaunteth not aught there small; until surely beames my trooping although dashed in Porphyria; straight that, and so rare, sits upon the bond—the still unravish him. And Betty, Tell us Johnny make alone could love so we have recognition she added in hond thus doth good truth, however take there is Betty, going, to meet but in the crowds upon his vaulted side, ply vizard mask, and innocence of his being humanity. You like an infant Orpheus, in Johnny has acres and small.

Stolen like the though winning swarm will we shall procure, nor fragrance of beauty of the dreadful hunt old time, man, my brother, quo’ she, you should red lemon, missioned to save Dudu’s force, into my labyrinth of Reconciliation was her stept., Writ overborne by the memory, what is seed, the grain of plastic circumstance of wot not betrayed by candlelight: beside them see some on his child: and I myself can find her long-with-loue-acquainted cheek was learns to knowes, and sent be; and heavily, when the eye and darkly; but I aspired train was a way to mine.

Pan the Sunne, the two resplendour pours; and one: and powerful art, the bugle, under to tread, and with the stood. Such an one luxury, unless arrogance, changes, but the transgressions spin on waking a woman without friended he, and blown, it make us thine. Mix with needments, no applause but their share with it, and like a billow, than the den of beauty, now Nature escape as Nature dream. We two crown’d, or like since, its head, hung a vase, for a queen; ’tis the appreciation the Mother these lanterns, how oh love: and yet she rose, the world arraigned, we are so oft bynempt.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #231 texts #sonnet sequence

0 notes

the-void-8-my-soul · 2 years ago

Photo

Wanna read the old (discarded) OLDDDD (Like 3 years old) Prologue to my you're corosive story that I may never finish? NO?

TO BAD!!!

Today is the day! Blue thought excitedly. Today he would confess to Nightmare! He had these feelings for a while now and he figured now was the right time. Afterall it’s not every day you get a full day alone with your crush.

Yeah! That's right the gang is all going to be going on personal missions or to visit family (if they still had them) today so Blue and Nightmare would be alone.

Blue skipped excitedly down to the library. And as he suspected the gigantic oak door was ajar. He quietly crept in.

The library was in no way small. It was fit for a king and given that Nightmare was king of negativity it all made sense. His library had a tall ceiling that ended in beautiful multi-colored sky lights that let the sun in during the day and the moon and stars shine down at night. He had every book known to man or monster. All from his travels through the AU’s. He had every adventure novel, every science book, heck he even had a few shelves of manga. Blue had read mostly adventure books during his time. He and Nightmare had the same affinity for novels and folk stories.

Once when Nightmare was having a really rough day and couldn’t seem to read or ground himself Blue took down one of the older looking volumes, the book of nursery rhymes that Nightmare always read when he got agitated. So Blue begane to read it and wouldn’t you know it, Nightmare calmed down. He calmed down so much he became passive for a while. That was the truest show of trust as Nightmare was weak in his passive form and didn’t often change.

Anyway as Blue expected, Nightmare was sitting in his armchair back to Blue facing the fireplace. The light of the fire gave his tentacles an eerie orange glow to them instead of the normal teal. Blue walked forward, sighed and started, “Nightmare. I really like you… as more than a friend.I have for some time now. I think it stared when I saw you decorrupt for the first time when we were reading together. I love your affinity for books and how caring you are with the gang. Heck I even think your tentacles are beautiful when you are calm and they just sway in the air like a cat's tail….I really do like you. I understand if you don’t reciprocate my feelings I just need to get that off my chest. I hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship.”

Blue heaved a sigh and waited with baited breath for Nightmare to answer instead a low threatening chuckle was all he got.

“Wow my dear blueberry what a confession! … and here I thought you were a loyal soldier. What a pity I must do this to you… I always did like your enthusiasm… Oh well..”a threatening voice dripping with sarcasm answered him.

Blue started.. Only 3 monsters in the entire multiverse still called him “Blueberry” (he hated being babied). Blue looked on in horror as “Nightmare” stood up. Now he could see that the glow from the fire was actually the color of the tentacles. He could also see that this was not Nightmare, no this was his equally corrupted brother Dream.. Better known as Shattered Dream after He too ingested a negativity apple.

This was why Blue had been out of the base the day that Error caught him, Dream had been having an especially bad day and was prone to attack at random so to avoid this Blue stepped outside. This was why he did not want to go back to the Stars… this and other things…

“Dream… I mean Shattered.. What are you doing here?... Where is Nightmare?” Blue just barely managed to squeak out before getting grabbed by two tentacles and hoisted into the air.

“Oh… Blueberry… You should know why I’m here… No? I’m here to rescue you of course… But sadly I see Nightmare has brainwashed you… Into believing you actually love him. HA! Preposterous! He is evil. You know that right? Yes. He is truly a villain but seeing as he has you of all people turned traitor I must fix You.. Oh no! Don’t start squirming! This will only hurt…. Alot.”

At this Shattered reached into Blue’s rib cage and took out his soul. Smirking to Blues horror he wrapped a tentacle around it and began to caress it. Letting the negativity flow freely into it.

It was agonizing. The negativity was like acid dripping into his very core. It stung and Blue screamed and screamed. His brain felt fuzzy like he wasn’t there. The only thing left was the agonizing pain… this slowly as he got used to the feeling turned into a sick twisted soothing sensation, you see the soul is the culmination of your being and therefore very sensitive. The constant rubbing of the tentacle had a very calming feel to it.. Even if the ever present burn of the acid like negativity was still there. Blue didn’t know what to feel. He desperately wanted to be let go but he also didn’t want the wee bit of calming intent to stop. The negativity reached the center of his soul and he was faced with all of his worst moments.

The first time killing the human and all 600 subsequent times

The time he came to the realization that Papyrus would never see him as a grown adult.

When he soon realized his “friends” were all the same.

The first fight with the star sanses and all other fights after that.

When he watched as his best friend tried to kill himself with a negativity apple completely and utterly helpless to stop him.

Killing Papyrus while under X-Chara’s influence.

Killing Papyrus of his own accord simply because he couldn’t take it anymore.

Every fight with the bad sanses.

The constant verbal and occasionally physical abuse by the Stars

And now knew ones were being added. Ones that he was almost curtain never happened but then a strange voice in the back of his head insisted they did.

Nightmare rejecting him.

The gang beating him up.

Error using him as a puppet.

All of his friends revealing they were only using him because they wanted to kill off the stars.

The one thing that many had in common was that in all ways it was Blues' fault. It was always his fault. He just had to accept that. He was a horrible monster. He was lucky that Shattered Dream even put up with such a horrible excuse of a monster. With this the torcher finally stopped and he was dropped to the floor numb.

“Come now my good little soldier. Come back HOME. Back to Ink and I. Come now loyal little Berry.”

Blues mind was muddled as he stared at the sight in front of him, a half corrupted Dream holding his soul but now it was covered and dripping with negativity.

Blue mindlessly almost will-lessly complied to Shattereds demands, after all Shattered was the only one who could ever put up with his sorry excuse of a skeleton.

“ There… now that's my good little Berry.~”

4K notes · View notes

madewithonerib · 1 year ago

Text

Catching Contentment | Sheridan Voysey [Luke 1:1-20]

In a psychiatrist’s advice column, he responded to a reader named Brenda, who lamented her ambitious pursuits had left her discontent.

His words were blunt.

Humans aren’t designed to be happy, he said, “only to survive & reproduce.” We’re cursed to chase the “teasing & elusive butterfly” of contentment, then he added, “not always to capture it.”

I wonder how Brenda felt reading the psychiatrist’s nihilistic words & how different she may have felt had she read Psalm 131 instead.

Psalm 131:1-3 [MSG] I Have Stilled My Soul ¹ GOD, I’m not trying to rule the roost, I do not want to be King of the mountain. I’ve not meddled where I have no business or fantasized grandiose plans.

² I’ve kept my feet on the ground, I have cultivated a quiet heart [stayed on GOD]. Like a baby content in its mother’s arms, my soul is a baby content. ³ Wait, Israel, for GOD. Wait with hope. Hope now; hope always!

In its words, David gives us guided reflection on how to find contentment. He begins in a posture of humility, putting his Kingly ambitions aside, & while wrestling life’s big questions is important, he puts those aside too [v.1.]

Then he quiets HIS heart before GOD [v.2.] , entrusting the future into HIS hands [v.3.]

The result is beautiful:

“like a weaned child with its mother,” he says, “I am content” [v.2.]

In a broken world like ours, contentment will at times feel elusive. In Philippians 4:11-13, the Apostle Paul said contentment is something to be learned.

But if we believe we’re only designed to “survive and reproduce,” contentment will surely be an uncatchable butterfly.

David shows us another way: Catching contentment through quietly resting in GOD’s Presence.

Reflect & Pray: When do you most feel content? How could you set aside unhurried time to be quietly present with GOD today?

LORD, I rest in YOU, the deepest well of my truest contentment. In JESUS Name, Amen

Passage for Today’s Devotion:

• Philippians 4:11-13 | I am not saying this out of need, for I've learned to be content regardless of circumstances. ¹² I know how to live humbly & I know how to abound. I am accustomed to any & every situation—to being filled & being hungry, to having plenty & in need. ¹³ I can do all things thru CHRIST WHO gives me strength.

• Luke 1:1-20 | Many have undertaken to compose an account of the things that have been fulfilled among us, ² just as they were handed down to us by initial eyewitnesses & servants of the word.

³ Therefore, having carefully investigated every thing from the beginning, it seemed good also to me to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, ⁴ so you may know the certainty of the things you have been taught.

⁵ In the time of Herod King of Judea there was a Priest named Zechariah, who belonged to the Priestly division of Abijah — and whose wife Elizabeth was a daughter of Aaron.

⁶ Both of them were righteous in sight of GOD walking blamelessly in all commandments, and decrees of the LORD. ⁷ But they had no children because Elizabeth was barren, & both of them were well along in

#Contentment #Count It All Joy #James 1:2 #Philippians 4 #Philippians 4:11 #Our Daily Bread

0 notes

a-patheticapathetic · 2 years ago

Text

#32 - 3/13/23

I am really doing spectacularly poorly.

I’ve got a King Gizzard live recording on like Febreeze over an exploded sewage tank. I find myself rapidly swinging between borderline suicidality and just feeling kind of down. There have been many, many points within the last month where I would have used a loaded handgun if I were suddenly holding one. I’ve thought I saw clearly what my life was at several points and at this point I have no bearing on what clarity actually is any more. I want to die. I don’t I want to talk about it. I don’t. I want to write about it, and I guess I shot the lottery on that one because here I am. Why?

I want to tell my brother that I’ve given up on him. I want to say exactly what I feel about how he’s been treating me the last several years. I want to accuse him of gossiping about our friends, which is true! He’s been doing it actively and with no remorse. I want to accuse him of worsening my already awful mental state, and he is! Most of the suicidal thoughts have come as a direct result of him keeping me up past 4-5 AM jabbering with people on the East Coast, and thus keeping them up even later. I want to accuse him of completely ignoring me and everything I do, which is true! He has openly admitted to never reading this blog, because it scares him. He couldn’t name the last thing I wrote if his life depended on it. I haven’t streamed in months and he hasn’t asked about that because he has no idea. He doesn’t try whatsoever with me, which hurts because he was one of the few things that I was trying with. Oh well.

I gave up too, buddy. I gave up a long, long time ago. Did you know that the night after I tried to kill myself, you were what made me cry? The thought of what you would be going through when you heard that I was in the hospital and why. Do you remember a few years earlier, that you were the first one I ever confessed my suicidal thoughts to? Were you pretending to care then too? I won’t be linking this in the group and I hope I don’t take it down either, like I did the last time I emptily ranted at you on a webpage you would never read. None of my “friends” read this despite the fatc that I only ever showed it to people I deeply cared about, with the explicit message that it was where I wrote my truest feelings the things I felt were the most important to me. Nobody gives a shit. A couple of people skimmed the first thing I shared and sent me a tearful message of “talk to me if you need to” with the knowledge that they didn’t mean it, and that’s it. You aren’t reading this. If you are it’s only becuase I finally grew the balls and finished the job nad now you’re trying to act all sad and pretend you cared. Fuck off, I knew you were lying and this is what happened. Maybe I deserved all the pain I was born to bear but you certianly deserve what you’re feeling in my wake. I don;t mean that I do. I mean it. Get away from me. I gave up and so did you

#entry

0 notes

choirofseventongues · 2 years ago

Text

Jabberwocky.

everyone’s tripping on tower bricks and crystal candycanes. twin bruises girl, you know what i mean pain star, call upon your saint of choice...Im tired of your perverted crush

i opened up to your wind rush and rejoiced

such a long long time ago and turned my back when i saw your muddy body in an ocean grave post-you showing

to me your truest colors and stabbed yourself face-first.

i turned the other cheek too much i told you sorry but i'm not. you were vile little alice. and twice as fucking vain. you planted seeds of jealousy in your flying monkeys trying to saddle me with blame.

you’re not a wicked witch yknow, you no longer have to play the part, my little horned flame.

they try to look and act like different masks of mine because you can't seem to replace me.

so why whine? because you broke your own damn heart with expectations and competitive childlike flaunts and you know now you’ll never beat me, yet…

i never wanted this for us and never thought of you ill that way. i loved you dearly but not queerly so you chose to run away.

it's your turn for the qliphoth now.

i've seen god and before him, in the abyss you too shall bow. your soul will mush, decay and rot. but you too shall be reborn as a babalonian jackpot

i crossed the abyss some times and i hope you cross it 3 times harder. the dark night of the soul awaits you. a punishment for repeated betrayal. betrayed me and betrayed yourself, your truest will and so did your selfish pawns.

i only screwed him because you screwed mine first. your power drill nails etched your name into my heart because you hate me. because you need me, and i loved you in a way you didn't want.

i truly tried to be your friend. not your experiment or toy. not your sidepiece or gay twin flame. not your charity accessory left gaunt

bought drugs for you and cried with you, chauffeured you and played your maid. i never wanted to compete with you but you couldn't stand the beacon in my soul and sprayed it with acidic Raid.

im a black hole now so honey try not to get sucked into the tirade.

i turned the other cheek too much and lapped up all your tears, i never tore your spirit down because the truth falls on deaf ears.

plato's cave is where you stay with your army of social elites. you all remind me of billionaires, the way our backs ache from your pairs of trust fund feet.

are the dots starting to connect yet miss alice? i know you feel ashamed. you’re only sorry for me and my struggle now because you’ve been defamed.

i’ll say it once and i’ll say it again, cus The Whore has just rode in.

i turned the other cheek too much my dear and you really love to strike when i can’t see you.

my blood dries purple. you made a martyr of me. i wear the crown, of silver lilac lavender, my three eyes bleed blue rivers clean, and my severed neck bears pearls and golden faked aquamarine, my heart pumps out green lightning. my stomach a golden meadow

of carnage under the moon, my womb a flaming holy wound. my sex an aching rushing haze of red and amethyst.

royal chrisist crucifixion, i wear my scars from you.

I strike you down girl, cus you were never friend but foe, you. dug your talons in… and i lost everything… but in the end what did you gain?

sweet alice please don’t be so vain, your fanclub’s had enough! be wiser and behave like a woman grown… i think we’ve both had enough… check your heart and like a phoenix or scorpions tail, i hope youre fit to rise.

and you, the brainless scarecrow, you’ve made me stiff like hay.

i inherit emerald city and toss your memory like a can of tin. I wear the mark of the beast and white and blue for my future munchkins.

you, april rose… bear the hat of the fool. I’ll hide you from your rabbit hole just for preying on me in high school. i am the white rabbit; see, you have to stop chasing after me. wake up my loves it’s time to say goodbye to wonderland where you’re kings and queens of swords, illuminating hell with your deceptive fabric lies and attempting me and i, my kingdom, my jabberwocky. i the queen of hearts and dorthyann and mallory, see past your pixels, hear me: your tok is tikking girl. the doctors got your medicine, on tower pills you choke. heavenly mother will always be here, for you’re entitled to instructions.

we know his manhood's tiny... and id still cut the arms right of him; if he ever put a hand on you unprompted.

i warn you that the tunnels reek of illness and destruction.

i hope he gives you all you dream of because at the end of the day ye hath deserve it.

i seal this letter with a kiss and send you off and angels lift

their wings to take your sainthood and bless you with their crown.

one more thing you should know, the crows told me your rainbow aura’s looking brown regina george.

Thoths sandy crown is now my cross to split and bear and disperse upon ye. jesus was the mushroom you hurled.

Sleep tight and dont let the bedbugs bite. You'll meet the Giant in the White Lodge where the owls gorge the flesh of THE ARM 🎖🍸🪖👽🏔☮️🕊 Y LA ZEITGEIST!

0 notes

aubreyprc · 3 years ago

Text

hardwired to be with you

inspired by one of my hotchniss head canons (which i might share, one day) which took a very unexpected turn which lead me and @eprcntiss crying at four am :) evelyn prentiss hotchner we love you we would die for you and we would kill for you in fact you can never do anything wrong in our eyes<3

ao3

They probably would have slept through the whole day if it wasn’t for the sudden loud crash of something, coming from the kitchen, echoing around the house causing them both to jump from their slumber. Even after being retired for three years, the constant state of vigilance, even in sleep, is one that never really fades.

“What the hell-“ Hotch mutters, already getting out of bed, tempted to grab the glock he hasn’t even looked at in three years, from the safe under the wardrobe.

“Babe,” Emily says, her voice groggy and full of sleep. She reaches out for him, gently grasping her fingers in some of his as he looks at her, “It’s nothing.” She tells him and he frowns, looking back at their door. “It’s Jack.” She tells him and he squints his eyes at her, a playful look in them and she laughs, pulling him into the bed. “Eve wanted to make you breakfast.” She smiles, his laugh full of just complete joy as he lays back next to her, resting his arm across her body as she faces his.

“Evie,” He says with a smirk, it’s a name only he calls her, he can’t help but laugh as Emily rolls her eyes. “Is two, the only think she’s knows about breakfast is how to throw it across the kitchen.”

“Which is why Jack so kindly offered to help her.” She smiles, a growing grin on her face as she rolls into his arms, resting her chin on his chest.

“Happy birthday,” she whispers, running a finger across his cheek before kissing him softly, smiling as he runs a hand under her shirt. “What are you doing?” She asks as she pulls away, he grins at her innocently, tracing a finger across her bare back.

“Nothing...” He says, moving to catch her lips in his again, she feels him start to roll them over and places a hand into his chest, a happy smile on her face as she looks at him. It’s a smile he doesn’t think he’ll ever get over seeing.

“I’m afraid you’re out of look mister,” she says, holding back a laugh as he pouts, doing her best to ignore the way his fingers trace across her skin. “Eve’s up.”

“Evie, is making breakfast.” He grins and Emily just laughs, rolling out of his arms. Aaron huffs as she flops onto her back, smiling at him as she twists onto her side.

“Jack is making breakfast,” She chuckles, “And your daughter has a habit of running in here unannounced.” She raises an eyebrow at him, watching with a smile as he laughs, “I give it ten minutes until that door bursts open.”

“Ten minutes is all we need...” He teases, laying on his side to face her and pull her to him, capturing her lips in his own.

She laughs as she allows herself to be pressed into him, wrapping her leg over his body.

However the moment ends when the sound of small, but fast, feet speed across the landing. Laughing as she pulls away, she cups his face, pressing another chaste kiss onto his lips just as the door opens with force, the little girl running to her mother’s side and climbing over her. Emily grunts as she helps move her daughter into the middle of the bed, the child grins at her, a grin that matches her fathers, a grin that makes her heart melt. Running a soft hand over her daughters forehead and into her hair, pushing it from her face, Emily smiles down at her baby.

“Good morning.” Emily smiles, looking across at Aaron as he stares down at their daughter with such adoration that her chest swells.

The little girl turns to her father, cupping his face with her small hands (an action she absolutely learnt from watching her mother do it) and smiles.

“Happy birthday, Daddy!” She says happily, tapping his cheeks.

“Thank you, Evie” He says softly, pressing a kiss into the palm that’s on his cheek.

“Made you breakfast,” she smiles, “Jack said to come and get you.”

“I guess we better go then.” He says, her laugh melting his heart as she jumps up, standing in the middle of their bed.

“Now.” She says in a tone that is so Emily, Hotch can’t help but bark in laughter. Emily raises an eyebrow at their daughter and the girl pouts her lips looking at her mother, muttering a little sorry as she hops down, “Come on!” She groans as her parents get out of bed slowly, Emily grabbing her robe while Hotch walks slowly towards the child, scooping her in the air with ease as she screams in laughter, resting safety on his hips. She lands a flat palm at the back of his neck as she turns to face Emily.

“You spoil her,” She says to her husband with the roll of her eyes and he shrugs.

“Look at her,” he says, it’s his excuse every time. Emily hums in reply as she moves past them and out of the door, smiling to herself as the two whisper behind her.

“I can hear you.” She teases as they walk down the stairs and they silent, before their daughter lets out a giggle.

Once at the bottom of the stairs, she leaps from Hotch’s arms and runs to the kitchen, a shout for Jack as she does.

“I fear our Daughter may think she’s in charge.” Hotch jokes as he wraps two arms around Emily’s waist and pulls her into his chest, her head tilted too look at him.

“Who’s fault is that?” She asks with a raised eyebrow. He frowns playfully, more than painfully aware it’s his fault.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He smiles, bending down to kiss her once again.

“Gross,” Jack complains as he walks in the room and the pair laugh, turning to face him, “Come on,” He says, already turning to head back into the kitchen

“I made you this, Daddy.” Evie says, passing him a card full of glitter, stickers and drawings. There’s a huge smile on her face as she climbs onto his legs, resting her back against his chest as he holds the card, she pokes her tongue out at Jack as he playfully glares at her, he goes to speak before his eyes move to Emily, and he closes his mouth, her brows raised at him.

“Eve started it,” He mutters, just like a freshly thirteen year old would, while he picks at the last of his breakfast. “I-”

“Eve is two,” She says, trying to hold back a smile as the teenager just huffs, “You’re thirteen. Be the bigger person.”

“I love it, thank you.” Hotch says softly, pressing a kiss into her head as she smiles, giggling as he ruffles her hair.

“Emily,” Jack whispers while Hotch listens to Eve go through her card. “Can I the gift?” He smirks, Emily laughs, nodding her head.

“What gift?” He eyes the two suspiciously, watching as Jack heads into the living room he turns back to his wife. “What have you done?” He asks, looking at her smirk with a grin of his own.

“Here,” Jack smiles, passing his dad a wrapped box. “open it.”

“You two got this together?” He asks with a lace of playful worry, Jack nods, grinning at him and Hotch sighs. “God I hate to think what this going to be.”

Jack laughs as he takes a seat next to Emily, looking at her while he grins, far too happy with himself.

“It wasn’t my idea.” He says then as Hotch opens the gift and Emily laughs.

“You little-”She starts, but close her mouth, pointing at him with a finger lifted off her coffee cup.

They turn to face Hotch as he sighs with a laugh, shaking his head as he looks at the box.

“You think you’re funny?” He asks Emily, who nods her head with a smile.

“I know I am.” She teases, winking at him as he glares at her.

“What is it?” Evie asks from her dads lap, her hands reaching out for the box.

Hotch eyes Emily again before he shakes his head, looking back down at the gift.

An inflatable zimmer frame? Really?

“I hate you.” He smiles as he watches Emily rise from the table, her laughter tugs at his heart, one of his favourite sounds.

He looks towards his son, “And you? You were in on this?”

“It’s funny, no?” He teases, standing, “Happy birthday Dad.” He says, “The frame should come in handy with all the standing you’ll be doing today.”

His words cause Emily to scream with laughter from the other room, Evie breaking into a fit of giggles at the sound while Hotch just shakes his head, holding back a grin as his son chuckles to himself.

“Eve, sweetie come on,” Emily calls from door, the girl jumps from her dads lap and heads towards her mother, “Go and pick out something you want to wear I’ll be there in a second, okay?” She runs a hand through her daughters hair as the girl nods, before sprinting out of the room and up the stairs, already shouting her brothers name.

Emily heads over to Aaron, wrapping her arms Aaron his shoulder as he sits at the table, staring at the box, she rests her cheek against his temple, her arms around his shoulders.

“Happy fiftieth,” She smiles, “Do you like your gift?” She jokes, laughing as he rolls his eyes, resting his hand on her wrist.

“You’re not funny.”

“Yes I am.” Emily says, before kissing his cheek and standing up, “Come on, they’ll all be here soon.”

Running a hand through her hair as she exits her bedroom, Emily walks out into the hall, towards her daughters room, smiling as she watches Aaron braid their daughters hair.

“Look Mommy!” Eve shouts, “I’m wearing a dress!”

“I know,” She smiles, “You look very pretty.”

Eve smiles, kicking her legs as they swing off her bed. Hotch taps her back in a cue that her hair is finished and she jumps down, almost crashing into her Mother’s arms as she holds hers up. Emily bends down with a sigh, lifting her up and resting the girl on her hips.

“You, little miss, need to get your shoes on.” Emily tells her, “And you need to get dressed.” She says to Aaron, his two girls turning to face him as he stands.

“Mommy will you help me with my shoes?” Eve asks, resting her head on her shoulder. Emily smiles softly, running a gentle hand over her arm.

“Of course, which ones?” She asks and the girl points to a pair of shoes in the corner which Aaron turns to grab on his way out, handing them to his wife before he catches her lips in a kiss, the feel of her smile against his lips enough to make his heart flutter even all these years later.

“Gross,” Eve says, copying her older brother and the two adults laugh, separating and looking towards their baby. “Jack said you’re not allowed to kiss.” She reminds them.

“We’re sorry,” Emily smiles, holding back her laughter as Aaron looks to the floor as he bites his lip. “Let’s go and get your shoes on okay?”

“And you,” She says, turning around to Aaron as she walks off, “Get dressed. Unless of course you want all our friends to you see you in your very sexy pyjamas.” She teases, looking him up and down as he stands there in a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants.

“Oh my god,” Jack groans as he walks out of his room, “I swear you two get worse with age.”

Emily stares at him with an agape mouth, a sharp laugh of her tongue while Aaron chuckles, walking into the master bedroom.

“You mister, are on thin ice with me this morning.” She jokes, pushing him lightly as he moves past her, the teenage boy laughs to himself as he walks down the stairs.

“Are Derek and Spencer coming today?” Jack asks as the three of them head into the living room. “We haven’t seen them since we moved here.”

“They are.” Emily smiles, dropping Eve on the couch and pulling her small feet to the floor, before bending down. Jack hands her one of the small shoes and she smiles.

“Cool.” He says, a small smile growing on his face at the thought of seeing his Uncles again. Emily looks at him with a smile, catching sight of his little grin and her heart melts. He looks at her, shy and quiet as his cheeks turn at shade of pink as she catches his excitement, “I’m going to blow up Dad’s zimmer frame.” He tells her, pointing behind his shoulder, Emily nods, watching him go with a smile before turning back to her daughter when she taps her hand gently.

“Who are Rick and Spencer?” Eve asks, looking at her mother with eyes that match her own.

“Derek, sweetie.” She corrects gently, “and they’re mine and Daddy’s friends.”

“Like Uncle Will and Aunt JJ?” She asks softly, wrapping her finger around one of her braids, “And Aunt Penny to?”

“Yeah,” Emily smiles, “They’re friends with them as well.”

“How come they’ve never been here before?”

“Well,” Emily starts, tapping her feet as she finishes putting her shoes on, “They’ve been busy.” Emily tells her, “But they’re very excited to meet you.” She smiles and the girl looks down with a smile of her own, giggling.

“Derek took over from Dad right? As Unit Chief?” Jack asks as he heads back into the living room with the blown up inflatable.

“Yeah,” Emily says, before looking at Jack and laughing at the sight of him carrying the blown up zimmer frame. “Oh my god.” She laughs, standing up. “He’s going to kill you.

“This was your gift!” He laughs, placing it next to the fireplace. The sound of Hotch coming down the stairs makes them look at each other and she laughs once again.

“Oh no,” She laughs, “This is all you I’m afraid.”

“That’s cruel.” He tells her, watching her grab Eve and lifting her to the ground, pulling down her dress and stroking her braids.

“What is that.” Hotch asks as he stops at the door, staring at the new item next to the fire place.

Emily rolls her lips, holding back her grin, swallowing her laugh as she looks at him innocently.

“Happy birthday?” Jack says with a smile. Aaron glares at him and the boy’s smile drops, “Again, this was Emily’s idea.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She lies, heading out of the room and towards the kitchen, Aaron grabs her arm gently and stops her.

“A zimmer frame, huh?” He asks and she looks at him, grinning as he smirks at her.

“You are getting old.” She tells him, shrugging her shoulders.

“Rude,” He tells her, she laughs as she heads back off towards the kitchen. Evie comes to his side then, lacing her hand around two of his fingers as he looks down. “Your mother is a rude woman, Evie.” He tells her, the two year old laughs as she looks up at him.

There’s a honk of a car outside the house then, and Evie’s face lights up as she jumps in the air. It’s a honk she’s familiar with.

There are three taps on the door before it opens, the sound of a rowdy boy echoing into the living room.

“Is that JJ?” Emily asks as she walks back into the living room.

“Uncle Will!” Evie screams as she runs towards the front door, the accent they’ve come to adore hits their ears as he lifts up the happy child.

“Hey Darlin’” Will says, resting the child on his hip and she hugs him. “Pretty dress.” He smiles, placing his hand in his sons head as they walk through the house, turning behind him to smile at his wife who’s staring with such affection his smile brightens.

“Aunt JJ!” Evie smiles over Will’s shoulder, her hand resting on his back.

“Hi, baby.” She smiles, her eight month old in her arms, “You look pretty.”

Eve smiles, before turning away at the sound of her mother’s voice as she greats Henry and Will.

“I see my child has got a hold of you.” She smiles, raising an eyebrow at her daughter.

“Doesn’t she always?” He smirks, more than happy to have the two year old in his arms. He and JJ have been in love with her since the moment she was born, their goddaughter, and it makes their hearts swell that she loves them just the same.

Henry be-lines for Jack, the eleven year old more than happy to have his company and Emily watches as Jack greets him with a smile, offering him a controller for the game.

“Where’s the birthday boy?” JJ teases as she looks around for Aaron, “Is that a zimmer frame?” She laughs and all eyes turn to it.

Emily laughs, “Jack’s idea.” She lies and JJ just hums, smirking at her friend.

“I’m sure.” She says, “Because you would never, right?” JJ jokes, looking back to the inflatable.

“She’d never what?” Hotch says as he enters the room, wrapping an arm around Emily’s waist as she appears next to her. The woman lifts her head to look at him, a cheeky grin on her face as she does. Hotch glares at her before he follows JJ’s eyes and he laughs. “Oh, no. She would. And she did.”

“I thought so.” JJ laughs, “It is pretty funny.” She says, scrunching her nose as she looks at her old boss turned close friend.

“See,” Emily laughs, “I’m funny.”

“Don’t get any ideas,” Will jokes to JJ and the blonde woman turns to her husband, “If I wake up to an inflatable zimmer frame I will not be pleased.” The man smirks.

“Noted.” JJ laughs, turning back to face the other man, “Happy birthday, Hotch.” She smiles, “Henry made you a card,” She says, looking behind them to find the two boys engulfed in their game. “I’m sure you’ll get it at some point.” She jokes, sighing at the boys.

The adults laugh, following the Hotchner’s through the house and into the large garden, Will placing Eve on the floor, before they watch her run ahead of them and onto her play area in the garden, climbing the small steps of the slide.

“She becomes more feral every time we see her.” JJ says as they watch the girl scream and run around the garden, making her own fun with a large smile. The epitome of a happy child.

“It’s the Prentiss gene.” Hotch jokes as he passes Will a beer from the fridge, the man taking it with a nod of thanks.

“I don’t doubt that.” JJ laughs, earning a scoff from Emily as she passes the blonde a glass of wine, smiling softly as the baby in her arm fuses.

“Shall I go and put him down?” Will asks his wife, who nods, passing over their son gently.

“I’m okay to put him in the old crib? It’s still in the office right?” Will asks the couple, who nod.

“Of course, I’ll grab the baby monitors.” Hotch says, following the man through the house.

JJ watched as Emily smiles, eyes on Hotch as he walks away.

“It’s nice seeing you happy.” JJ says with a smile. Emily turns to face her, smiling herself. “I know Reid and Morgan are excited to meet Eve.”

“I still can’t believe they’ve never met her.” Emily says, sipping on her wine. “I always forget how far we moved until I remember the travel back for their wedding.” She huffs with a laugh.

“You do live in the middle of nowhere.” JJ agrees with a laugh, “As soon as I can bare to retire, this is totally where we’re moving.” She tells her, looking around the large garden, embracing the lack of city noise.

“The BAU still has you in chains, huh?” Emily jokes.

“Unfortunately,” JJ chuckles, “Although after everything that happened last year..” She sighs, shaking her head, “And after having Micheal, I think maybe the change will be coming sooner rather than later.”

“Well,” Emily starts, “I can’t speak for Aaron, but, for me? I couldn’t have imagined staying after finding out I was pregnant. Moving out here was the best decision I ever made.” She smiles, “The lack of serial killers is life changing.” She jokes, laughing with her friend.

“Look who I found roaming the streets,” Aaron jokes as he heads into the garden, and just as Emily goes to greet the guest, Eve beats her to it

“Aunt Penny!” She screams, running towards the woman.

“Oh my sweet girl.” Penelope coo’s as she picks the small girl up, wrapping her in her arms. “I have missed you.”

Eve giggles as Penelope holds her close, breathing in the small girl.

“My friends you make the most precious children.” Penelope tells Aaron and Emily. “When will you make more for me to cuddle?”

Emily barks a laugh as Hotch chuckles, taking a seat as he shakes his head.

Penelope lands Eve on the floor with a small cry, watching as she runs back into the grass.

“Please make more.” She says as she walks over to Emily, embracing her friend. “For me?”

“Not a chance,” Emily tells her, “She is absolutely insane.” And points to her Daughter as she screams as she hangs on the monkey bars.

“She is perfect.” Penelope gushes, “A perfect angel and I want more of them.”

“You’ll be waiting a long time.” Emily tells her, handing her a glass of wine as she pouts.

“Am I at the right house?” Morgan jokes as he walks through the garden, his hand laced with Reid’s as the tall man hangs behind him, almost shy.

“I don’t know, I guess it depends who you’re looking for.” Emily plays along, tilting her head as she smiles at him.

“Well,” He sighs, “I’m looking for a stoic man and an emotionally unavailable woman, but it seems i’ve walked into a house of domestic bliss.” He jokes as he walks towards her, dropping Reid’s hand as he greets the others, Morgan’s eyes only looking for Emily, he’ll greet everyone else later.

“Hello, princess.” He says, pulling her into him tightly, “It’s been far too long.”

“I saw you six months ago.. you know, when you got married?”

“Six months is a long time, princess.” He tells her, “You didn’t miss me?” He pouts, pulling away and looking at her, a playful frown on his face.

“I guess so.” She teases, falling back into his arms with a laugh. “I still can’t believe you’ve never been here.”

“I’ve never met this precious girl of yours either, where is she?” He asks as they pull away slowly.

“She would be the feral toddler on the monkey bars.” She says, pointing with her head in the direction of her child’s happy shouts.

“My god, she’s your twin.” He tells her with a huge grin, watching as a small girl runs around the garden with jet black hair, braided tightly, and dark eyes just like her mother’s.

“I’ve been told.” She smiles.

“She’s enchanting isn’t she.” Penelope says as she comes to Morgan’s side.

“She is.” He nods, unable to take his eyes off the happy child. “She’s so...happy.”

Emily turns away, holding back her tears of joy as she walks towards Reid as he chats with Aaron, JJ and Will.

“Hi,” Reid says, rushing to embrace her, “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you to.” She smiles, rubbing his back before pulling away, “Your husband is already obsessed with my child, it seems.” She smiles and Reid looks over, a glint of pure happiness in his eyes as he does.

“He’s been talking about meeting her all week.” He says with a smile, turning back to her, “I think he might steal her if you leave him alone with her.”

“He can take her.” Emily jokes, earning a laugh from the adults.

“I very much object to that.” Hotch says with a smile as he lifts the beer to his lips.

“Well you would,” Emily says, playfully rolling her eyes, “You’re her favourite.”

Hotch smirks, shrugging his shoulders. “Do you want to meet her?” He asks Reid, who looks at him, before shyly nodding. Hotch smiles at his small nod, before turning and walking towards his daughter.

“Don’t be so nervous,” JJ smiles and Reid turns to her, “Kids love you.”

“This is Emily’s daughter...” He says, “I doubt she’s anything like other kids.” He teases and Emily laughs.

“You’re right, as always.” She nods, “She’s feral.” She adds as they all walk over towards the garden, Reid heading over to Morgan as he watches Hotch take Eve’s hand as walk her over.

“She’s an angel.” Penelope tells them as they slide in next to her around the table.

“For you, maybe.” Emily grins.

Hotch takes Evie’s hand softly and walks them over to the two men, stopping as they stand in front of them. Eve hides behind his legs, her head poking over the side of his left one as she looks at the new men.

“Sweetie, this is Derek and Spencer,” He says, looking down at his daughter as she grabs his fingers in her hand, “Can you say hello?”

“Hi.” Eve says shyly, hugging an arm around her Dads leg as her other hand has a grip on his fingers.

Derek smiles at her, bending down to her level as she comes out from behind Hotch, standing next to him.

“Hi, pretty girl.” Derek smiles, gently introducing himself. “I’m Derek.”

“I’m Eve.” She says softly, looking to the floor before she looks at him, a soft smile on her face as the new man grins at her. “Are you daddy’s friend?”

“I am,” He nods, “Mommy’s friend too.”

“Who is the tall man?” She whispers to him, looking at the man stood behind him and Derek laughs.

“That’s Spencer,” He whispers, “He’s shy.” He tells her and she looks back at him, “Will you say hello for me?”

Eve looks at him, before looking up at her dad. When he nods, running a hand over her head she slowly walks towards him, looking up at him.

“Hi.” She says, her full voice strong and very much her mother’s tone. “I’m Eve.”

“Spencer.” He smiles, waving awkwardly.

“Do you want to see a frog I found?” She asks, and his eyes to wide.

“I do.” He says, his smile bigger now. “Did you know that frogs-“

“Reid.” Hotch stops him with a tap on his shoulder. “She’s two. Go and see the frog.”

Reid nods, following the little girl. His heart melts as she takes his hand, and as Morgan watches them, he can’t help but think how much he wants one as well.

“Our daughter is obsessed with Spencer.” Aaron says as he sits next to Emily, throwing an arm over her leg as he does.

“I told you,” JJ laughs, “Kids love him for some reason.”

“The Reid effect.” Penelope says, bringing the wine to her lips as the group laugh.

Emily finds Reid on the steps, sighing as she takes a seat next to him she grabs his hand.

“You okay?” She asks, he nods, his eyes watching Morgan, Eve on his hips as she points to things around the garden.

“Just thinking.” He smiles, turning to face her. “What?” He asks, as he finds her looking at him with a grin.

“Do you want one?” Emily asks him, pointing towards her daughter. His cheeks go red as he looks down.

“I know Derek does.” He tells her, “But, I don’t know. What if I’m just like my father?”

“Spence...” She says softly, “You are nothing like him, I promise.” She tells him. “You’ll be a great Dad.”

“You think?” He asks with a shy smile, looking at her. Emily squeezes his hand.

“I know.” She tells him.

“I’m happy for you, Em.” He tells her, “Look at this.” He says, regarding her home, her family, her life. “You did it.”

She laughs, a smile beaming from her lips.

“You have the family you deserve.” He says to her, “I couldn’t be happier for you.”

“Thank you.” She says, tears glassing over her eyes.

Emily moves rest her head on his shoulder as they turn to watch Morgan and Eve at the end of the garden. She can hear Hotch and Will laughing at something in the distance, just on the table behind her. She can hear Jack and Henry chatting in the kitchen, their voices filled with joy.

Later that night, after they’ve said goodbye to their friends, Emily watches as Aaron carries their sleeping daughter to bed, smiling as Jack passes past her with a smile.

“Goodnight.” He says to her, “Today was fun.”

“It was,” She smiles, running a hand through his hair before kissing the top of his head. “Goodnight.”

She watches from the door frame as Aaron places a soft kiss on their daughters head, before turning off her lights.

“Hi,” He smiles, wrapping her in his arms in the doorway. “Busy day, huh.”

“Very.” She says, her whole body feeling the effects of it.

“I love you.” He smiles, placing a soft kiss on her lips.

“I love you, too.” She replies, kissing him once again before he pats her back and heads to the master bedroom.

Emily turns to her daughter then, watching the rise and fall of her chest before she closes the floor.

Once in bed, she rolls into her husbands arms and sighs contently, closing her eyes as his arms wrap around her.

“Sleep.” He whispers softly to her, something he does every night as she lays with him, something that started just after they did, after Doyle and Paris, after nightmares and insomnia. It just stuck. It’s something she has to hear now, before even thinking about getting any rest. “I love you.” He tells her again.

“I love you.” She mumbles, already half asleep in his arms.

They did it, she thinks as sleep steals her.

She did it.

She found her happiness.

fin

#evelyn prentiss hotchner <3 i love you #hotchniss fic #hotchniss #i always forget about dave :/ so sorry rossi stans </3 #will <3 the truest king of the show #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #moreid #spencer reid #derek morgan #willifer #bau family fic #criminal minds fic #domestic hotchniss #if you ever hate on evie i will come for you actually she’s innocent #my fics

89 notes · View notes

nikakistos · 4 years ago

Text

The Perfect Closure of EreMika

The title is pure clickbait (as always), there will be lots of tags (as always) and this post will be huge. As always. So, let’s examine and evaluate the perfect conclusion of the most important relationship in Attack on Titan. We will analyze why this is the best conclusion they could have gotten and of course we are going to talk about what their scenes meant for their relationship, their feelings for each other and the themes of the story.

First, let’s ask the question: What was the purpose of this chapter? Ending the fight obviously, but also giving closure to the relationship between Eren and Mikasa. Now, there were 3 questions that needed to be answered in order for the two of them to have closure.

Why did Eren say to Mikasa that he hated her?

What does Eren feel for Mikasa?

What would have happened if Mikasa had given Eren a different answer back in chapter 123?

Isayama answered all 3 of them in a spectacular way. Let’s see how he did it. The chapter literally starts with Isayama, via Mikasa, setting up the closure. This was achieved by having her wonder if this really was the end for her and Eren. Could it be that their last interaction ever ended with him saying that he hated her?

Isayama answers that with a big, fat NO.

That’s the purpose of Mikasa’s vision. Mikasa’s vision is not there to introduce us to Alternate Universes or to portray her as a delusional fangirl that can’t cope with reality. It’s purpose is to answer the above 3 questions. And that it does.

Essentially, Mikasa’s vision is a “What if” scenario. If Mikasa had chosen the ideal for her answer back in chapter 123, Eren would have abandoned everything and lived with her. This means that Eren is also in love with her. He said that he hated Mikasa, because he wanted her to forget him. That’s why he also asked her to throw away the scarf.

Mikasa though, being the truest representation of all major, positive themes in the series says no. She chooses to remember him. That’s essentially the meaning of life. That’s what Armin taught to Zeke back in chapter 137. Memories of everyday life. That’s the meaning of life. Back in Trost, Mikasa said that she couldn’t die, because she wouldn’t be able to remember Eren. Even back then, Mikasa always knew the true meaning of life.

Afterall, the series heavily criticizes the usage of memory manipulation. Deleting memories or altering them have been methods empoyed by the Royal Family for years, hiding the truth from the people. One of the themes of the Survey Corps is remembering their fallen comrades and carrying on the torch. Mikasa forgetting Eren would be an insult to the themes of the story. As would be if Eren was revealed to have been sending fake memories and dreams to Mikasa out of pity for her.

Finally, Mikasa decides to kill Eren. Not because he hated her or because he didn’t have romantic feelings for her. Because she had to save the world and because that’s exactly what Eren wanted. Back in chapter 133 Reiner foreshadowed Eren’s desires. He explained that it is very hard for Eren, mentally, to handle the murder of the entire human race. Through Reiner, Isayama reveals that Eren wants someone to end it all for him. That someone was Mikasa. That’s why Mikasa knew where to find Eren. His relieved face when he saw her swinging the blade said it all. That was Eren’s design and Mikasa delivered.

And so, the chapter that starts with Mikasa thinking that the only closure she would get with Eren was the “I’ve always hated you”, ends with the first and the last kiss between the two of them that puts all of her worries to rest.

Is Mikasa delusional?

I’ve seen this being thrown around, so i have to also tackle said point. No, Mikasa is not delusional. This wasn’t a fantasy that only she experienced. This dream of hers is the same dream that Eren had back in chapter 1. Eren experienced the exact same things she did in the dream. We even see him with his titan marks. It is clear as day that they shared these moments.

Also, i have to give credits to Isayama here for his usage of “itterasshai”. The word generally means “Go and come back safely” and is usually said to people leaving the house. For Mikasa, Eren is her home, but she is also home for him, as shown in the RtS arc:

These were the perfect parting words for the two of them. Nothing else could encapsulate their relationship better. Eren of course, won’t come back, but that’s the irony of the word here.

Moving on to the next point, Mikasa’s characterization in this final arc is about her seeing Eren for the person he truly is and stop ignoring his faults. It starts from the Marley arc and it concludes with chapter 123 where she realizes that this was simply part of Eren’s nature.

He always had it in him to become the monster that he became. However, he always had a different side to him. A side that had been shown to her a few times. At first, when he wrapped the scarf around her and later when he asked her “What am i to you”. Finally, it manifested as a desire to live quietly with her in their shared dream. It would contradict her development and characterization in the final arc, to have Mikasa start seeing an incomplete Eren again, after realizing earlier who he really was. Mikasa understood who Eren truly is and she accepted him and continued to love him anyway, even though she didn’t agree with his genocide.

It is not out of character for Eren to run away with her either. At least not in that instance. The series highlights the moment that he asked Mikasa “What am i to you” as a pivotal one. Sure, under normal circumstances, Eren would have chosen to fight, but we saw him breaking down just moments earlier. The only person that could have saved him was Mikasa. Alas, that wasn’t meant to happen.

In any instance, the biggest indicator that Mikasa is not just a delusional girl who kissed the decapitated head of the man she loved, when he never really loved her in the same way, is Ymir’s face at the end of the chapter.

Ymir, as i have mentioned in previous posts, is a girl who never knew real love during her lifetime. She didn’t understand what she was looking at, when she first say a couple kissing with their friends cheering them on. And after that she was sentenced to a cruel life, with a man who never loved her and only viewed her as a tool. This girl, remembers longinly that scene of the couple kissing for 2000 years. She was waiting for 2000 years to see real love again.

She witnessed that through Eren and Mikasa. In a scene that would have otherwise been painted in a negative light, Ymir’s warm smile at the sight of the final act of love between two people who never got to be together the way they wanted to, clears any and all doubts regarding Eren’s feelings for Mikasa and the latter’s sanity. Eren reciprocates Mikasa’s feelings and he was alive for enough time to kiss her back, before completely fading away. Eren and Mikasa replaced the married couple and Ymir replaced the crowd that was cheering at them from 2000 years ago.

Of course, one might ask, could Eren really kiss her? Didn’t she just take advantage of him? No, he did kiss her. The way the scene was directed, it shows us that the events, which take place in their dream, mirror the events in real life. Just look at Eren’s lips one moment before Mikasa kissed him and compare them to the picture above, where they kiss. They are different.

Also, you have to remeber that decapitation doesn’t kill immediately and does not immobilize facial muscles. That was the entire reason that Eren and Zeke managed to get the Coordinate. Eren survived long enough from Gabi’s shot to make contact with Zeke. Even his facial expression changes as you can see below:

More importantly, was there really any chance that Ymir would look at Mikasa beheading and kissing Eren, while also smiling in approval, if Mikasa was a delusional girl who was unable to understand Eren’s feelings for her up to the very end? Most of all, do you think she would have allowed him to die, without experiencing real love? She died in such a way and she stayed for 2000 years in the Paths waiting for someone to show her real love. Eren was her benefactor. Would she ever allow him to die in such a way, when she was being mistreated (sexually and in many other ways) by King Fritz? I doubt it. Actually no. I don’t doubt it. I’m sure this is not the way we are meant to interprete the scene.

Eren’s relationship with Mikasa, from the very start, is an allegory for the world of AoT. The world is cruel, but is also very beautiful. Eren’s story with Mikasa starts with him murdering in cold blood her kidnappers (cruelty) and then warmly and gently welcoming her to his family by wrapping a scarf around her (beauty). Their story ends with Mikasa decapitating him (cruelty) and kissing him (beauty).

Eren’s tendency for violence has always been portrayed as going hand in hand with his better side. That side has always been represented by Mikasa. It is only fitting for them to have their most beautiful moment happening almost at the same time as their most cruel one. This is how Isayama juxtaposes this duality:

If we interprete this scene as Mikasa being delusional and Eren not being in love with her we get a very disturbing and creepy scene, between an obsessed, psychosis-suffering girl who can’t understand the feelings of Eren, a genocidal maniac who never had any chance or willingness to live a normal life, even though there are hints of that, and a 2000 year old ghost who just happily smiled at the decapitation and forceful kissing of her emancipator. I am pretty sure this is not the message Isayama wants to send. Not simply, because it is a disservice to Mikasa as a character and to her relationship with Eren, which has been one of the most prominent and consistent part of the series from the very first chapter, but because it is also a huge disrespect to Eren as a character as well. Does anyone really think that Isayama would choose to write Eren’s death like that? Not a single important person in the entire story has gotten such an exit. Not even Floch. Even Zeke, who thought that his father never loved him and only used him as a tool, got to see that his father truly did love him, before finally dying. Of course Eren and Mikasa would get the same treatment.

What i mean to say is that Eren and Mikasa’s closure won’t be recontextualized in a way that will paint their feelings for one another and their relationship in a negative light. If anyone’s expecting that, he/she will be disappointed. Eren and Mikasa were confirmed as a canonical couple in chapter 138.

On the other hand, if anyone’s expecting that this wasn’t their real closure and that they will get an even happier ending, he/she is also coping hard. Eren died here in this chapter. There won’t be a scarf rewrap (i’m here to eat my words if it happens), because Isayama gave the couple a kiss. A kiss that was in the makings ever since chapter 50 dropped. And of course, there is not going to be a baby born to Eren and Mikasa. Like, no way it’s happening. Eren is not coming back to life as that would turnish the series and it’s ending.

In conclusion, Eren’s relationship with Mikasa ended in the same way it started. Violently and Beautifully. Tragically and Happily. They acted on their romantic feelings for each other the very moment they had to part ways forever. This is how Isayama hurts us. The essence of a bittersweet conclusion.

EDIT: EATING MY WORDS AS PROMISED. EREN DID REWRAP MIKASA’S SCARF. HE KEPT HIS PROMISE.

2K notes · View notes