#every tempest she abides

[viennasoot]

hi! i'm vienna, i'm an egg in a system (@spectresummons) and this is a blog that is supervised by my parents and my grandpas and my uncles and aunties. / ¡hola! soy vienna, soy un huevo en una sistema de DID (@spectresummons) y este blog tiene la supervisión de mis padres, mis abuelos, y mis tíos y tías.

<3

tags!

post sorting

#turning shadows into shapes - original posts by me

#this hill i'll die on - posts about quesadilla island

-🎶-

people

#the seas within me - posts for chayanne

#to be a bit of warmth - posts for baba (@lookuponmyworksanddespair)

#every tempest she abides - posts for my mamá (@thehousethatalwayswins)

#ossified philosophizing's getting old - posts for fundy

#talking at the houseplants - posts for skobee (@bundleofnerium)

#you paved your hades - posts for bailey (@bundleofnerium)

#brushing at your fingers - posts for pippy (@dapduos)

#may change beneath a different light - posts for eowyn

#hoping you'll come around - posts for tilín

#constellations - posts for richas (@imortarlyson)

#every good intention - posts for pepito

#start where i end - posts for charlotte

#to see yourself - posts for willow

#no ice walls - posts for abuelo philza (@kristinsmalewife)

#a kindling of sorts - posts for abuelo missa

#so glowing - posts for abuela kristin (@taughtranboopronouns)

#for every action a reaction - posts for pomme (@thefrenchsniper)

#a halcyon sky - posts for leo (@queenofcapybaras)

#be a darker soil - posts for tío orion (@tommyprimepath)

#when atlas shrugs - posts for tía eden (@ladybladewastaken)

¡bienvenidos!

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

The Doctor, Martha, and Riley (42 AU)

“Riley's not you,” she admits, then allows her voice to become teasing as she says, “In some ways, he's better."

The Doctor is unfazed. “Plenty are, Martha. It’s dangerous to travel with me.”

Martha thinks about Riley, about the fact that he followed her knowing that he could die and deciding that it was worth it, about the fact that he nearly died the first day they spent together. She thinks about the fact that Riley believes in her as she believes in the Doctor, believes that he will save them, when she's the one who's been learning to save him.

And she looks the Doctor right in the eyes as she says, “I know. Why do you think I asked to keep travelling with you after what happened with Dr. Lazarus?" She gestures between them. "We’re equal partners now, don’t you remember?”

The Doctor’s mouth quirks up at the corner, half-crooked. “That we are, Martha Jones. You did a fantastic job out there these last few months.” She can feel the weight of his words as he says, “You're a good doctor.”

-aletterinthenameofsanity, the river takes her shape from every tempest she abides

And my running feet could fly

Each breath screaming: "We are all too young to die!"

Gone are the days of begging

The days of theft

No more gasping for a breath

The air has filled me head to toe

And I can see the ground far below

-Florence + the Machine, Between Two Lungs

@boo-mite @dream-beyond-the-fantasy @lady-of-the-spirit @mack-anthology-mp3

@jordiepouts @cousin-quartz-of-house-paradox @khruschevshoe @thetavoid

[patroclusdefencesquad]

lyric obsession of the week? the oh hellos and "the river takes her shape from every tempest she abides, and like her, you'll be made new again"

[bullet-prooflove]

Last of the Summer Wine: Archie Hughes x Reader (Beyond Paradise)

Tagging: @kmc1989

Archie isn’t upset that someone burned down his wine cellar, he has insurance to cover all that, although he does mourn a couple of the rarer vintages. It’s the fact they’ve graffitied the word PIG in huge royal blue letters on the sign for his winery that really gets his goat. It’s got the whole town talking. He’s being lumped in with the likes of Lucas Fairley, whose known for his wandering hands, especially around the younger female employees.

Archie is nothing of the sort, he can’t abide that man or the tales that come out of that farm.

When the whole sordid story does come out, he empathises with Cleo Davenport, he imagines he would have gone something similar if it had been his teenage daughter who’d been assaulted. He just wishes she hadn’t felt the need to burn down his wine cellar in order to make it look like it was part of a pattern.

He’s surprised when he comes out to clean the sign to find that someone’s done it for him. The damn thing looks as good as new and Archie can’t help but smile because there’s only one person in this town that would have seen through all the muck that had been smeared on his name and that person is you.

It’s later that evening he turns up at your cottage with a bottle of his finest wine. You prefer rosé over reds and whites, and he’s picked something that plays to the flavours you like. It reminds him of warm summer evenings, making love to you underneath the old oak tree at the edge of his vineyard.

You’re wearing one of his sweaters when you answer the door, a pair of his woolly socks and nothing else. You give him that smile, the one that says you know exactly what you’re doing to him and the wine becomes forgotten on the kitchen counter.

He makes love to you as the rain patters on the windows and the sound of the sea crashes in the bay. You taste like sunshine on his lips as he moves within you, that tempest, it builds and builds until the storm breaks and you cry out in rapture. You take him with you, falling into oblivion together as Archie spills his release inside of you.

You’re half asleep, sated and drowsy when he returns to the bed, the bottle of wine in his hand and two wine glasses. You watch with a smile as he pours it before you take a sip. The taste of summer fruits blossom on your tongue and it takes you back to the first time he kissed you, the scent of grapes and the outdoors clinging to his skin.

“Thank you.” He says as his glass clinks against yours. “For cleaning the sign and for believing I’m not what everyone else was saying.”

“I know every inch of you by now.” You remind him with that look in your eyes and his cheeks flush with colour. “I’d be a fool to believe village gossip.”

He kisses you again because truly he’s never felt as seen as when he’s with you. You take him as he is, the good parts and the bad.

The wine glass tips over, staining the sheets but you’re too lost in the sensation of each other to care about the spill.

Outside the storm still rages, but here in bed with Archie you’re reliving summer all over again.

Love Archie? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[l4-vi3-3n-ros3]

In the heart of the city where dreams often wane,

Millicent Alanis stood soaked in her pain.

The rain fell like whispers from skies dull and grey,

A melody lost as she waited for sway.

Just fired from a band that had once been her pride,

Her spirit now heavy with heartbreak inside.

The bus was delayed; it could take hours still,

While memories danced in the shadows at will.

But fate spun a tale on that drizzly day’s stage,

When Mateo Pino turned life to a page.

With a yellow umbrella, bright against gloom,

He spotted her there—like a flower in bloom.

“Excuse me,” he said with a smile warm and wide,

“I see that you’re drenched; would you care to abide?"

He slipped off his jacket and wrapped it around—

A haven of warmth where kindness was found.

Under the shelter where raindrops did play,

They shared stolen moments ‘neath clouds dressed in grey.

She told him her story of music and loss;

He listened intently as thunder morphed moss.

“Through sadness,” he offered with wisdom profound,

“You’ll find all your colors when hope is unbound.”

His words painted visions more vivid than night—

For Millicent longed just to live in their light.

And so through the tempest these strangers became

As two spirits lifted by love's tender flame.

In laughter they weaved through each drop from above,

Life seen through rose-colored glasses of love.

As minutes flew softly on wings made of dream,

Their lives intertwined like threads caught in seam.

No longer alone as they laughed ’neath his shield,

Together they forged what the world once concealed.

So let this be known on days dark and long:

That beauty can shine even amongst what's wrong-

Like yellow umbrellas 'gainst storms clouding chances,

True hearts meet when fate plays its bold serendipities' dances.

Though bittersweet endings lead us down paths unknown,

From sorrow arise seeds that yield joy not yet shown.

Millicent smiled now with glimmers anew—

With vision transformed by perspectives askew...

La vie en rose! With life's promise embraced—

Hope blooms ever brighter though trials have raced!

With every dropped tear cascading from sky blue—

Two souls blurred together beneath drops anew.

[theohhelloslyrics]

I know the winds from the south

have the waves riled up like a hungry mouth

and your stomach goes hollow

at the thought that it could swallow you whole

well, it'll rain for forty days and nights

and nothing you do can slow the rising tides

but the river takes her shape from every tempest she abides

and like her, you'll be made new again

- New River, The Oh Hellos

[relgnira]

Guess I'm sticking with 4

...

Soooo... 4 :]!

Well, it’ll rain for forty days and nights

And nothing you do can slow the rising tides

But the river takes her shape from every tempest she abides

And like her you’ll be made new again.

(YIPPEE last year for spotify wrapped I drew Exodus and his mom so here’s him and his other mom :3)

[mae-f0w3r]

BUT THE RIVER TAKES HER SHAPE FROM EVERY TEMPEST SHE ABIDES AND LIKE HER YOU’LL BE MADE NEW AGAIN.

[soapcan18]

I KNOW THE WINDS FROM THE SOUTH 🌬️

HAVE THE WAVES RILED UP LIKE A HUNGRY MOUTH 🌊

AND YOUR STOMACH GOES HOLLOW 😱

AT THE THOUGHT THAT IT COULD SWALLOW

YOU WHOLE ☹️

WELL IT’LL RAIN FOR FORTY DAYS AND NIGHTS 🔥

AND NOTHING YOU DO CAN SLOW THE RISING TIDES 🗣️

BUT THE RIVER TAKES HER SHAPE

FROM EVERY TEMPEST SHE ABIDES ‼️

AND LIKE HERR

YOU’LL BEEE

MADE NEW AGAINNN 😆

[libidomechanica]

There perhaps when he four window now, and wostow why

A limerick sequence

               1

That together for alle hire dette. He meane at length to forgiveness. There    perhaps when he four window    now, and wostow All, am Master of the wife weans.

               2

The counted by degree. So right air and her feather. Adulteration    of the chippes, and heart    is so consumed, may rue their flocke, where there. Bý the sea, to tell?

               3

The cool waves rear more like threw; I cast; and awe. Sun and dashing. It was abbesse    nat with the iewell,    false love, not unworthy of the Wods with lullaby, my lip.

               4

Sex is forced together, thy living? And all about the tears and that oon    housbonde sholde I beren    hem on his nycetee. Him have a spiced conseille as the day.

               5

This mayd. Because hem all, and she consume ever lieth. And scrape, but thee why    thou hast lead and people    say, I do not all love unfit, the faille of chaste embraced.

               6

And wild Asiatic disport; I wol kepe me verray jangleress and    cold engendrure. And seyst    also may, who caresses ready, o mount and sleepy crew.

               7

That bear him, and make me: I’ll run, and true: things decided among he well    amend, the next design    in Jeanie’s bosom bred by those Lockes be vnfedde. Ties are fair.

               8

Bored his parents’ joy. Beyond, a garden of my ankles in our vain; the    learn, I can sayne, that light    when we fall in the there lived, as Argus with a rainbows twine.

               9

Werne a man liue, if choice. Like a skater glides, stunned their flocks at will true,    sicker I abide; the    fleeting as for that he had fired, his mind, the radiant girl!

               10

The wild-flower than toold they treat assayed, and she began a Tale of epic    Love’s great relief,    luxuriating the feeldes walke in crimson clad, O help, O help!

               11

And when yet I had annex’d thy love, you’llnever wanton sonne. By those faytours    little taper? Raving    tact as wel after grew in such showers I not falsifie.

               12

I, a love in welth and feared his soul. Not then shepeheards God lust, my ware,    she may bithynke, for whoso    wolde no determination: then by mottled fire more Muse.

               13

That highest: but he had been opened his brutal follyes vndefyled, all    raiment remains; long man    at present, that anon; now, dame, quod he, Look he turn’d, but fain’d.

               14

Time and so, good society for Sin. And with equals he showed the eyes    hath greatnes of the would    thee. An echo of the lead to save you better part must spell.

               15

Are every moment gains his tempest- beaten, Joy lost are apt to business    of my borel for thy    heir: his breathless creation. Eye leve of tribulacioun made.

               16

Since life’s gay scene and his armour rung, besides, in a strength you couerture. Barren    rocks on thy flight: for    pain nor double means were to me show of vestal, Heav’n-born mind!

               17

But we tway bene and twittered garland wear my breast, the Eyes bene    hyred for my list. ’ Said    and cold from God more is exaltacioun? Yet I had a dreme.

               18

Had give the balls, their farther turn to the world them it sits to eke out    raptures comments she waked    her not sell the even her eyes, and for a whisper’d, fly!

               19

My Company, and vows be termes, and out of this matter part a points    as though now are our arms    and he, Look he turning; he clerk is preysed. On my rhymes tooth.

               20

And myn endyng day. But if that you pass like the Belovéd Heart. Giddy    ship which means every look    at somme been conteck soone by content, with the end to straying.

               21

Most exemplary wife. That better, snowed it Valerie and knocking! Yet    Faith strange fort, a ship again    with his own approached; if force already play about you.

               22

Thou yours, that the the heau’n forgotten. How great, that fail; a music of the    ethe. To chirchė dore upon    thou hast thou couerture. With spongy cloud … it must have you would shewe.

               23

There the land, nor Jove denied, but something of my Earth! Plucking to be sure.    But this hill to depart;    where, why choose became my stranger! And yet when reason: then smart.

               24

And that I have happened once, and eek the both thee? The laste out my childe: who    touch myself have content    to find somewhat is no helpe me clever: without; but shall hast.

               25

Of uryne and plunder when a Signal outrely; I nolde suppose me    clever: this is their fondness,    pardee. Sweet voice, but if that his hous to no earth the Muse.

               26

” You survive when he vsed to spreading. Into my good she, my tale bellowing.    And Terebinth good    manners from the first shalt find a sound; by love? And in me, dear!

               27

Take me with one fall in her celestial kind. Scarce find the nyght and stopped away    through a ruine am    with there perhaps this soul believed his thre of which in my woe.

               28

So true as may I sing it will not; we ours its wild-woods among thee? Than    me, poor beastes ligge soft    and anxieties, all sing to cure me. With increase reneueth!

               29

Moore reticulous, past prepared him who understand! That due to the dyer’s    house from the face the bren,    and Moon; and to the balls, for pittied into each cheese-paring.

               30

And prayers; my mother, lord and middle.— She chains which leaves look into a    Myrtle bootes all her    glory is she was a lynx, and will. Thy Heav’n, the violet eye.

               31

—It is a bore: love to shewe. Three thy beauties of night find out at large. Perhaps    you’lladd to Matrimony’s    list of May, fro hous, to tell? The Lady of Shalott.

[nunubeinginsecure]

The Love & The Hate

I hate him, but I love him more, A tempest brewing on my shore, Inside my heart a war does wage, His smile, a spell, my mind's a cage.

I never wished for grand design, Just for a love that could be mine, But there he stands, with eyes so bright, Choosing her, my sister, in the light.

She looks like me, yet shines so clear, What is it that draws him near? It doesn't make sense, this twisted fate, To love him so, yet feel so fate.

I hate the way he makes me feel, The joy and pain, a bitter meal, With every laugh, a butterfly takes flight, Yet shadows linger deep in the night.

He makes me smile, ignites my soul, But when I see him, I lose control, A heart that dances, then hits the ground, In love’s cruel game, I am spellbound.

These tender moments, they bring delight, But they vanish fast, lost in the night, Why him, oh why, does he seem to choose, When my heart aches and I just want to lose?

I wish to die, this pain inside, A longing love I cannot abide, Yet still each glance, each fleeting touch, Reminds me that I care so much.

The laughter shared, the secrets told, In memories warm, I find the cold, How can one heart hold so many shades? Of love, of hate, a heart that sways.

Each tear that falls, a testament true, To the dualities of love I pursue, For in this love, I find my fight, A battle of shadows, both dark and bright.

So here I stand, with heart laid bare, Caught in the web of love and despair, I hate him still, but love him more, And wonder if he'll ever knock on my door.

Will he see me, the girl inside? Or pass me by, while I confide, In dreams of laughter, and hope so high, As I navigate this love, the reason why.

[ascensionism]

i am never going back . / ghost primo for tempest <3

spectres stalk these halls, some siblings have said / they carry a vengeance most vicious and should not be approached. dangerous, they say. they know not what these ghosts are capable of, but it is generally agreed that one should not linger to find out, lest they end up feeling the wrath of a life since past.

unfortunately for those who have given their warnings, tempest is an inherently curious ghoul, with the thirst to know more than those who have been in the ministry longer than her. they speak of danger, so she chooses to approach with her teeth at the ready. she is all too aware that nothing she does will, in fact, protect her from a being that isn't physically there, but it's... the premise of it. the familiarity of being prepared. her muscles coil with tension to sprint, as well, even as she trails over marble floor to the last sighting.

it's near the gardens 𑁋 though she's been told to stay away 𑁋 that she catches a glimpse of something transparent and haunting. her fingers curl around the frame of the entrance. gaze tracks the phantom through its movement, waiting, breath slowing and stagnating with each heartbeat. eventually, it disappears from sight.

tempest enters the gardens.

and that, in itself, is a crucial mistake.

this is something she realises too late when her footfalls attract the attention of the wandering spirit and sends it in her direction / it approaches, looming and latching to the sound she makes. it phases through matter without missing a beat. her feet stutter and she stumbles back in her shock. hands scramble to lift herself out of the dirt and she turns tail, sprinting and leaping and ducking through, directionless, suddenly adrift in the gardens without knowing what is where nor where she was. it follows her in every direction, does not abide by any law topside has. she swears fast and in every language she can recall cuss words for.

tempest's troubles lead her to a corner of the garden, the prolonged sprinting and turns already wearing her down enough to warrant respite. she turns to the hovering ghost approaching. it 𑁋 he? 𑁋 does not look like any person she knows, but the anger behind empty white gaze has the young ghoulette scrambling into the corner further, nails digging into the ground around her. this is it. [ they said, they said you'd endure the wrath of it if you stay long enough to come face-to-face with it. sometimes, she wishes her curiosity didn't resort to finding out the hard way. ]

she braces. grey-hazel screws shut as her chest heaves in the attempt to re-oxygenise her blood, waiting for it to be over, knowing her teeth and claws are all but useless. then-

tension is knocked from its tight coil in her chest when she hears him speak / and it is bitter, angry, but not... well, she remains uninjured. safe, oddly. he hovers near her, but he makes no effort to do anything of what the siblings were saying he could do, or what he's expected to. her breath comes out heavy, but shuddered.

❛ go back... where? ❜ question tentative, confused 𑁋 where did he come from? why does he disturb the gardens? ❛ who are you? ❜ / @prim0star, even in arcadia, pt. iii.

[xxdoubledaisyxx]

Your options are

Consider what this new american religion called the Way of the Story can mean in your life.

Suffer nuclear holocaust for the eternal ego show of evil men.

The only part that hurts is when the idea larva burrows underneath your eyelids and into your brain. After that I am certain you will love working for me. 😄

I never knew body snatchers were a real threat, and they are. Don't believe the lies.

Yeah... it gets better each time around... don't forget to visit the Patreon some time and drop some money into my hat or I may unconsciously haunt you until you do. These things happen, I will answer for what I do, but I am not responsible for what your sins provoke my spirit to do to you in return, so beware of that.

If you don't give your time and attention to the bad people on tv by not thinking about them, they can't use your energy to do the bad things they do. It only affects evil people for evil, who will be seen for what it is they are doing that is wrong and hopefully corrected before punished.

The Way of the Story is a fun thing for me to think about, as well as all these ideas and rants I've shared online. That might help you apply your mind to more rewarding pursuits that all the other options that have turned out to be nothing more than tools for individuals to control populations with when they want to decide how we should live our lives.

That is why we are going to kill every last one of those vile, evil people and remove the blight of their existence from humanity so they will never threaten us again in such a way.

If we root them all out now thoroughly, they will not be a problem for our colonies in the future when they set down roots again.

In the end, it is summed up nicely with the following anecdote: Trump became president and was like, "waaa I'm Christ." Then I stood up and said, "No I am! StoryTeller! Ideas! Big spectacle of revelationy stuff." and they said. "no I am. I'm president." and I said, "no the president is an employee." and then they said, "oh, well it doesn't matter because God is not real anyway" and [this is all evil experiment we devised based on some social behavior trends we've been able to reasonably predict accurately in populations of human beings and assumed these things applied to everyone, which is why we do this to people like you. We want you to think like us and not like you. do you understand? why is he so stupid? This isn't hard to understand.]

then I proved God was true and invented storiometry by also inventing that word right now. all rights reserved. contact way walker industries for more details. and they said "huh?" and this went over and over for nine years until their own employees and servants got tired of coddling the fool's ego bought on money stolen with betrayal of America as the president, and all because of how afraid they are of losing their jobs. They decided that was no good and wouldn't do for themselves, not that they cared, but the inconvenience could not abide and had to be done away with. They hanged the evil bastard as the traitor to america he was, making everything better.

if you want to contribute something like this, but find the task daunting, despite your own highly esteemed credentials, heed the following sign:

all this that you see is my own, is yours soon to be magnified as your own all of me adding to you without me as the anchor down below, my gifts added to your gifts separate. That's all. No exchange. You should know that, that's why I'm writing it down to remind people, even though they will forget and a time like this will come and... may the Nep be with you. She is the best that ever was.

You will have wonderwandered upon it naturally like a fairy alighting upon a dewy leaf of Yggdrasil. or whatever.

...seriously. like super neptunia rpg. We go around in our bodies and there she goes, doing this or that, running errands for so and so, getting caught up in dirty underworld schemes, we are at the mercy of her tempests in the mortal realm below her divine majesty. Life vests. Everyone. That's what this can be used for at the very least. Pack it away for the day you are drowning in life, and God won't even answer the anguished cries of an arrogant and proud mortal like yourself. You'd think Nick Bylotas was at it again.

TT

The way of the story is an addition. You need it. You are not stupid for not having it already, but you are if you don't take one if only to see what it is later. Good goddess people... take note... the fact that there is mistrust in a situation now is what is problematic most specifically as a genus and species of sin fiend taint stain on existence and creation. These details are important and the resolution is what I have prepared.

I cannot tolerate obstacles to my work like that, and neither can you. Let us flip this bus.

[powerbandits]

The Tragic and Exultant Tale of Azriethe, the Dance of Life

In fair Verona’s midst, ‘neath the starry skies, Where shadows weave and dreamers' hopes do rise, There lived a maid, Azriethe by name, Whose spirit burned with a most radiant flame. In humble quarters, where echoes softly play, She twirled at dawn, welcomed each new day.

From tender years, the world a stage to her, She danced with joy, devoid of any stir, For in her heart, a tempest fierce did swirl, A longing deep that set her soul a-whirl. The townsfolk gazed, enchanted by her grace, As she partook in life’s unending chase.

“Dear child,” her mother oft would gently muse, “Dost thou not tire? In dance, what dost thou choose?” “Oh, mother dear,” said she with laughter bright, “To dance is to commune with heaven’s light!” And thus, with nimble feet, did Azriethe prance, In fields of daisies, she’d enchant with her dance.

As seasons passed, her artistry did bloom, In palaces and parlors, she would sometimes loom. Yet, on the wings of youth, a heavy cost, A tragedy would pierce her heart, and dreams would be lost. Her father, brave yet frail, succumbed to fate, Leaving her heart heavy, love’s cruel weight.

But sorrow oft is the soil where springs the might, And from that grief, Azriethe took to flight. With every pirouette, she cast away her pain, The stage became her solace, her joy, her gain. “To dance is to live,” she swore upon her fate, “To weave my life in rapture, to celebrate!”

With steadfast heart and practiced, graceful sway, She sought the city, where hope would surely stay. To Paris bright, she sailed on tempest’s whim, A world of wonder that gleamed on the brim. To the grand opera house she ventured with pride, And there, among the great, she longed to abide.

With each audition, her spirit soared anew, Yet met with fierce rejection, bitter and askew. Throughout the night, in shadows dark did she dwell, For fortune’s favor, as fickle as a spell. Yet hear her heart, it whispered soft and clear, “Persevere, dear Azriethe, have no fear!”

With vigor wrought from trials most severe, She trained the hours long, steadfast and sincere. Behold her strength, her passion burned anew, An incandescent flame, each moment richer grew. At last, the day, a chance of fate arrived, A foreign troupe judged her, and there she thrived.

“Oh, joyous night!” the crowd did roar and cheer, As she took flight, embodying her fear. To leap and twirl upon that hallowed ground, Where time itself seemed to pause all around. This moment, precious, as golden as the sun, In rapture’s grasp, she knew her time had come.

Thus Azriethe, from shadows to the light, Became a dancer whose spirit took to flight. With every step and every graceful leap, She etched her story, a legacy so deep. The world beheld her, a star on heaven’s stage, And as she danced, she turned another page.

At gala events, with finest silks adorned, Her reputation blossomed, her name was widely sworn. Yet ‘twas her heart that quickened every beat, For in each dance, she poured her soul, complete. Through tempest’s trials, through laughter, through tears, Azriethe danced her dreams, vanquished all her fears.

But alas! The fickle hand of fate does wave, And in the twinkling light, shadows ever crave. A rival, envious and keen of edge, Resolved to see her slip from destiny’s ledge. A malicious scheme didirs rise from envy’s core, Azriethe, enchanted, wandered to explore.

In darkened alleys, where whispers dared to weave, Bound by betrayal’s snare, her heart would cleave. Her ankle strained, the night was cast in gloom, Yet with every loss, she braved the pain’s bloom. For Azriethe knew, the stage was her embrace, And from her trials, she would rise, an ace.

With ain’s resolve, she faced her daunting fate, In every shadow, she sowed seeds of great. For every challenge met, she learned to find her way, A beacon of light, even in darkened fray. The rival fell, the winds of fortune changed, And Azriethe’s grace across the world was ranged.

Through Paris, Rome, and far-off distant lands, The tale of Azriethe filled the hearts of fans. A dancer magnificent, a spirit so aligned, With every performance, a magic she would find. A soul that lived within each pirouette and spin, Her dance, a testament of battles fought within.

As years went by and silver threads entwined, Azriethe grew wise, with passions well defined. Yet still, she danced, a mistress of the art, In every movement, a song of the heart. In time she taught, her wisdom to instill, In generations new, inspired by her will.

And so, dear reader, let the tale impart, Azriethe’s journey, a dance that touched the heart. For life is but a stage, our bodies but a song, In every step of sorrow, we find we can belong. So, let us dance our truth, in joy or in despair, For like Azriethe, each soul is rare and fair.

Now, with this tale spun under moon’s soft gaze, May you find your rhythm, in life’s fleeting ballet. Dare dream and dance, let none your spirit tame, For like dear Azriethe, you too may find your name.

[starrywangxian]

♫ + Mizi

i also have a playlist for alien stage!! little fun fact my clematis is my fav alnst song~~

first of all the killing kind by marianas trench. this song is kind of like mizi or till thinking about sua or ivan respectivelyyy. i think the line "the ghost in me was true but you were haunted, too. just didn't see it all along" is very fitting for mizi because she always saw sua and this goddess so i feel like she was very naive and thought that sua was perfect and didn't have any problems or anything. unreliable narrator! she saw sua as this perfect goddess so of course she was always beautiful and smiling and kind.

a lof of the mizi songs are mizisua songs sorry </3 i can't serparate my doomed yuri. anyway next is tempest by the born love. it's kind of like a duet between sua and mizi, like sua: "ï'm good at disguising, it's not fair to you" and mizi: "come back now, come back to me. my love will give you shelter and give you peace".

creatures in heaven by glass animals is very mizisua coded from mizi's pov. like "i don't think i realise just how much i miss you sometimes. for a moment, we were just, we were just creatures in heaven." with the whole goddess thing that they have going on likeeee.

francis forever by mitski. mitski has to be in every doomed yuri playlist, they are the rules. but if you need evidence then: "i don't need the world to see that i've been the best i can be but i don't think i could stand to be where you don't see me" because it's the fact that mizi was prepared to just give up and not even try after round 1 because it had no meaning without sua anymore.

i'm a law abiding citizen so more mitski for my doomed yuri with i'm your man by mitski. again this is more like a duet because sua: "you believe me like a god i destroy you like i am" and mizi: "no one will ever love me like you again so, when you leave me, i should die. i deserve it, don't i?"

[lyrics365]

Sonnet

Guido, I wish that you and Lapo and I Could be taken by magic and placed in a boat Where every rising swell Would sweep us at our will across the sky Then tempest never, or weather dire Could ever make our blissful living cease No, but abiding in a steady, blessed peace Together in harmony And Lady Vanna and Lagia then She who looms the thirty best Would join us at the enchanter’s behest And…