#romantic; on decaying angel wings

[self-shipper-snowdrop]

SNOWDROP NIKOLAI DUB VOICE REAL

----------

Snowy Edit: HJVVHGJDHVBHJCVHBJVBDFV AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I'M GOING TO LISTEN TO THIS ONCE I GET HOME AND SCREAM AND HYPERVENTILATE

[nekoumeowncy]

Take my hand, don't let me go.

Featuring. Kanata Yatonokami, Nayuta Yatonokami, Kei Miyama, Shion Kaida x GN! Reader.

What does it feel like, to hold his hand?

Tags: romantic fluff, headcanons.

♡ KANATA YATONOKAMI

— His hands are considerably svelte, despite the roughness and calluses brought by a life of hardships.

— Just as the rest of him, he really doesn’t pay much attention to them, and yet it’s undeniable they are pretty.

— You wonder, how come his skin is always silky smooth when he doesn’t bother with hand creams and has no qualms with getting his hands dirty to protect the ones he loves (read, you and Nayuta) or get his job done.

— You pout as you ask him exactly that, as you walk hand in hand through the cluttered neighborhood in the slums; the last rays of crepuscular light filter through the buildings, clothes hanging on a drying thread decadently beautiful when they sway on the wind.

— Kanata was always beautiful, but, in this light, he looks nothing short of an angel. A fallen angel, discarded by lady luck and the fates, now descended into your arms, his decaying tainted wings soaring to sunnier skies by your side.

— “Not fair… Why are your hands so soft?” You ask, lips scrunched up as you come to a stop and slot your fingers between his.

— Cozmez’s elder blushes at the contact of your two palms.

— “Adorable.” You think, closing your fingers around his.

— “It’s not like they’re that soft.” He grumbles, looking to the side, locks of silver lilac blooms merging with the dusk sky.

— “They’re pretty too…” You trail off, gently grasping one of his hands in between your two, as you tenderly caress the protruding tendons and veins.

— “H-hey, stop it!” Your boyfriend wails, face not unlike the ruddy hue of the setting sun.

— You smile softly, putting his warm palm against your cheek.

— “Your hands are so pretty, Kanata… Just as you are.” You mumble, leaving a kiss to the inner side of his wrist.

— And because Yatonokami Kanata was easily flustered, despite the frown he showed the world, he takes the back of your head and leans you close to his chest.

— His heartbeat is wild, much in the way he is, a rose with steel thorns and midnight petals, some of them wilted; yet to those who approach it with care and true love in their hearts, it awards them with the sweetest scent and a whimsical view.

— You’re never letting go.

♡ NAYUTA YATONOKAMI

— Like Kanata, has naturally pretty hands.

— Slender than Kanata’s, with veins slightly more marked in color, the blue hue reminding you of the skies he called “not as beautiful as you.”

— Sometimes, you give him your bow hair tie to keep it for you. And of course, your lover likes wearing it around his wrist. You can’t resist holding hands with him when he does that, swinging them happily as you walk. It’s adorable how he chuckles every time his eyes inevitably focus on your smile.

— You find it so cute how Nayuta’s hands get easily red with the cold.

— And because he definitely has a mischievous side, he always adored holding your face when his skin was freezing.

— You gasp, a whine of “Nayuuutaa!” escaping you, his cute laughter enough to make you think you would let him put his freezing hands beneath your shirt.

— “You always warm up my heart and my hands. You’re cute.” He says, effectively leaving you speechless.

— Your face buries in your boyfriend’s chest at the remark, he really is going to be the death of you.

— Other times, when you two are just hanging out on the rooftop, you love seeing his fingers splayed out against the bright blue sky.

— As if reaching out, hoping to catch a drifting dream, you love to stretch out your own hand next to his, pinkies touching.

— It’s funny, how the gesture is enough to make your own heart flutter, when you’re the one who initiated it.

— Your cheeks burn, not unlike the blinding sunshine above, when you realize Nayuta’s lavender gaze is set on you.

— Because who cared about blue skies and sunny days when he had you by his side?

— Not him, that’s for sure, the moment his lips tease the corner of yours.

♡ KEI MIYAMA

— All of him is the embodiment of perfection; a picture perfect angel, seemingly descended upon this earth just to grace you with his candid light.

— And the way he holds you is no exception.

— His hands are soft, gentle; the hands of a man born to create melodies, light dancing at the tip of his fingertips with every added note.

— You adore his svelte fingers entwined with yours, the memory of wintry leaves swaying across a sunny sky so vivid when his hands hold yours.

— The way his phantometal bracelet envelops his wrist makes you jealous at times, prompting you to slip your fingers beneath it, caressing his peachy skin in that area.

— Your lover’s reactions are demure, elegant, much like everything he does, but you never miss the rosy blooms flowering on his cheeks when you two are intimate like this.

— It’s undeniable 1Nm8’s leader has beautiful hands, and you love making him try on your own accessories.

— Maybe you’re a fool, but you can’t take your eyes off his slim fingers when you put one of your silver rings on them; you hope one day, you’ll wear matching ones.

— “My love? Is there anything wrong?” He asks, when you fall silent, those slate eyes framed by the rays of sunrise searching for your gaze in concern.

— You start, hand squeezing his with tenderness.

— “Nothing, nothing…” You trail off, a subtle smile tugging at your lips. “Just thinking about the future I suppose.”

— He returns the smile, turning your hand around in his soft grasp.

— “I hope you saw me in it.” He utters, thumb running over the back of your hand.

— You wonder how someone's touch can be so affectionate and leave your stomach all knotted up, the trajectory of butterflies over aurora skies aflutter up your heart.

— You finally nod, playing with your ring still around his finger.

♡ SHION KAIDA

— Mans is canonically attractive; let’s not forget he seduces men and women of all ages.

— And, of course, he will use his hands to charm you, among other things.

— You were drawn in by his otherworldly aura at first, that ruby gaze fixated on you, half-lidded, as if you were the only one that existed to him in that moment.

— And well, how could you resist him? Not when his tall frame slightly bends over to whisper in your ear how pretty you are; not when his voice lures you in like a siren’s song.

— Not when his manicured hand trails over the edge of your jawline, dark polished index nail delicately tracing the edge of your painted lips.

— You know he is danger spelled in shades of moonlight over pomegranate seeds. And yet, you can’t resist his pull.

— The way his hands, lean, yet stronger than they look, hold your waist while his lips fervently lock with yours drives you crazy.

— You love trailing the contours of his sculpted bones when you two are just relaxing, the phantometal piece he wears on his left pinky hypnotizing you.

— And not only that, but on occasions like this, he often manages to leave you flustered; sometimes it’s him tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, fingertips lingering on your cheek for longer than necessary; other times it’s him putting his claw-like ring on your middle finger, whispering “for my rose” as he leaves a kiss behind your ear.

— Your favorite, however, are the tranquil nights in which you can relax together, his more vulnerable and sensitive side coming out in deep conversation while you paint his nails.

— A starry sky awaits for you just outside the window, but you’d rather lose yourself in the moonstone hue of his long fingers and the constellations he strings together with the emotions only you are privy to.

[henriiiii-1001old]

Dream Sweet AU (inspired by miracle musical's "Dream Sweet In Sea Major")

smth ive mentioned before but im finally gonna ramble abt it bc why tf not <3

im just gonna copy paste from discord hold on

(quick warning for somewhat dissociation as well as implied character death)

its basically supposed to be like. dreamcore but like not as creepy as it usually is. at first at least. bunch of angels too LMAO

the au begins in vol 333 after thatcher makes it to the police station from the murray's. as he hears "amazing grace" get closer to his office, he turns behind him and sees a door in the wall where it shouldnt be. he decides to check it out.

the scene he's greeted with is beautiful. pink, orange, and yellow clouds filling a sky of the same color, blending with dark blues and purples like a beautiful sunset. he is greeted by ruth, who now has three halos above her head and a glorious pair of wings, fading from white to yellow. she welcomes thatcher and makes him notice his own wings. sure they're small which means he can't fly, but he's always had those.

right?

he ignores that because ruth quickly takes him into her arms and flies him across this dreamlike scenery. they eventually appear at a familiar house: the heathcliff residence. contrasting to its once disturbing, melancholy vibe, it is colored in a beautiful baby blue and looks brand spanking new almost! a family can be seen hanging out just near the front porch, one being a very familiar mark heathcliff. his wings are slightly smaller than ruth's and he has a small ring for a halo of his own! his wings fade from a light blue to a darker blue but not like. dark blue DFVGBHNJM. mark greets the pair and he thanks thatcher for "saving him" from the alternate outside his door.

thatcher immediately knew something was wrong just from that statement alone. he took the thanks anyway and just ignored it for the time being. he also did see sarah still playing in the cloudy grass of the front lawn, her wings yet to grow and her halo yet to form.

cesar had just come by to visit as well!!! his wings faded from a bright orange to a scarlet red, and he had a halo surrounding his neck and one around the back of his head. he also thanks thatcher and ruth for "saving him and his mother back at the house". thatcher once again takes this as a red flag and decides he'll ask ruth about it later.

ruth and thatcher soon leave to let the family relax more, thatcher asking ruth about the heathcliffs in particular. ruth completely ignores him and drops him into a fast-moving cloud, almost like a river. the scene turns more blue but it was still somehow peaceful. he ends up at another familiar residence: the murrays.

he sees lynn and jude- having their own pairs of wings and joint halos, acting as two rings connecting to each other to symbolize marriage- enjoying a romantic moment, seemingly not even divorced as jonah suddenly third wheels the couple. they all greet thatcher and also thank him for "saving them during a great time of need". the thing was, he got there after lynn had died, so how is she alive? he ignored his own questions for the time being as he saw adam come up from behind them and roughhousing jonah for a small amount of time.

he looks different.

he has a halo as well as small devil horns poking out from his messy blonde hair. his wings face from white to pure black. he had a tail that wagged behind him, and his eyes just look so wrong too… jonah was just a regular human too- no halos, no wings, no nothing. it just seemed so odd…

ruth had finally joined thatcher and said their goodbyes to the murrays and jonah before going to this world's version of the police station. ruth begins to cough harshly, and thatcher notices she's coughing up blood. her eyes begin to gloss over, and her features are beginning to decay. her neck seems to have markings on it too. he of course is panicking and asking her what the hell is going on.

she ends up telling thatcher that she's dead, and she wanted to be able to stop the fate that awaited thatcher in the tunnels below mandela county. she thought she'd be able to keep thatcher safe, have him live in a world where she was still there for him, where everyone could be happy.

she says her goodbyes and fades in thatcher's arms as he screams for her to come back, knowing she never will…

...

thatcher wakes up in the station, his head slumped on his desk. the music had been gone for some time now, but he quickly decided to see what awaited him down in the tunnels since ruth mentioned them.

you know what happens from there

...

i am kinda thinking that right before thatcher wakes up in catalyst, he somehow ends up back there but in dream form. everything's distorted, everyone's talking really weirdly, and even the ending is different. he seems himself with wings bigger than he could have imagined.

and he knew exactly who it was.

but before he could see his own face, he wakes up to bitch ass gabe going "YO WAKEY WAKEY ITS TIME FOR SCHOO"

he probably has also somewhat zoned out back to that place a few times too, but he could never stay for long. everything's blurry and fuzzy, sounds are muffled, and it all just feels wrong. it's better than looking at that thing in his closet though.

watching.

knowing what it did to ruth.

ok thats all the iscord rambles. i am also going to add dave as foreshadowing in his revisit to the weird world in the dream before catalyst bc heehoo funny angst :)c

i also have some concept art for this au!!!

hope you guys enjoy!!!!!

[seaside-lovers]

Inactive Romantic F/Os

F/Os that I am not actively focused on at the moment/have not focused on for a long time. I still ship with them but they usually take up my attention based on hyperfixation.

🚦 The Grand Galactic Inquisitor - The Venture Bros. - #🚦 space age love song 🌙 Khonshu - Moon Knight - #🌙 heavy wings and the hum of decay 🎣 Einar - Palia - #🎣 find me by the water �� Vincent - OC - #🦄 imagine me and you 🌹 Hide - Lethal Company - #🌹 lethal lovers 🍺 The Dealer - Buckshot Roulette - #🍺 dancing on the edge of love and hate 💎 Brynjolf - The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim - #💎 walk with the shadows - #💎🐉 my home and adventure all at once 🐉 Miraak - The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim - #🐉 fate decreed us - #💎🐉 my home and adventure all at once 💥 Miguel - Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse - #💥 bite me 🌓 Lord Nighty-Knight - Megamind vs. the Doom Syndicate / Megamind Rules! - #🌓 i hear the secrets that you keep 🌻 Chuck - Dead Rising 2 - #🌻 by your side always 🐺 The Kidnapper - Welcome to the Game - #🐺 show me your darkness 🪽 Gabriel - ULTRAKILL - #🪽 angel in shining armor 🟡 V1 - ULTRAKILL - #🟡 to hell and back 🪦 Death - Family Guy - #🪦 drop dead gorgeous 👁️ Seek - DOORS - #👁️ lost in your eye

[korruptbrekker]

Between the Black and White

Unwelcome Guests — [Next] — [AO3]

Rated G — Content Warnings: Religious references, foul language, misgendering (unintentional and fixed as soon as character is made aware), alcohol mention, other warnings to be added 

Pairing: Romantic Anxceit

Inspired by Demon Of Mine by @turtledove-art​

Word Count: 2,438

Dear God this wasn’t what Janus wanted to deal with today. He didn’t need a demon pestering him out of boredom after an already excruciating day of paperwork. He just wanted to rest and read about some human who thought he was right about everything. Was that so hard to ask?

Apparently so.

—

Janus sat back in his leather wing-backed chair and stretched his arms high his above his head. His wings shuddered as they extended, off-white feathers brushing against the walls of the room as they stretched out themselves.

With a relieved sigh he gathered up the stack of papers and tapped them on his desk, neatly placing them into the open filing cabinet to his left. Field work wasn’t as nearly as glamorous as he’d thought it would be, but it was better than being holed up in Heaven with the unpleasant social mixers and unnervingly bright smiles.

He much preferred things down here, on Earth, where coming across another Ethereal—angel or otherwise—was a rare, unexpected experience and Janus was left to do his work in peace. And if being around humans with their fascinating little minds made his eternal life significantly less boring, than that was his business.

He stepped out of his study and down the small hallway into the sitting room. His shoes were all placed neatly on the rack by the door, and after some thought he picked out his favourite pair of black wingtips. He was feeling rather fancy today.

He lifted his coat off the rack and picked up his cane, tipping his bowler hat from the rack and onto his head. He didn’t need the coat, it was a rather warm afternoon in mid-June and wearing a coat at all would just be miserable overtop his thin buttondown, but he always kept his latest read in his large coat pocket and had gotten into the habit of bringing his coat around whether he needed it or not.

He would never say no to extra pockets.

With a contented hum he slipped out the door and down the steps. His house was on the outskirts of a town, his backyard made up of a particularly intimidating wood. Well, intimidating for the local human population. Janus found it quite comforting, and was always pleased to set foot in it after a long day of running through choices and changing lives.

Being an angel was not as glamorous as all the human media made it out to be, unfortunately. It was all just endless paperwork, changing someone’s life here because they’d follow core virtues, or keeping someone else’s life the same because they’d been overall mediocre that day. Sure, there was the occasional miracle, but that took time and energy and Janus found himself having less of both as eternity wore on.

All in all, it was a very boring job and Janus was grateful to have the Earth and humans as a way to break up the monotony threatening to choke him to death.

There wasn’t a clear pathway in the wood, but Janus had walked the same way hundreds of times and knew just what trees were where. He could travel this path in the dark with his eyes closed if he really wanted to. He did sometimes, just to make things a little more interesting, and even then he ended up in his spot without incident.

After a few minutes of singing birds, rustling leaves, and Janus’s padding footsteps, he came across a small clearing. A decaying long was strewn across it, taking up most of the space, but early on he’d discovered that it was the perfect place to read, and it had thus been dubbed his reading nook since.

He took a seat on the plush grass, leaning his back against the log and relaxing into a horribly bent position that, if anyone spotted him in, Janus would just say was just a particularly intensive stretch. Angels were, more often than not, uptight bastards, and even though Janus was one himself he couldn’t keep his posture stiff as a rod all of the time.

Sometimes an angel needed to relax without some archangel giving him a disappointed brow raise. Patton.

Setting his cane down next to him, he pulled his latest escapade out of his coat pocket. He’d taken a particular interest in human philosophy and was currently reading Nietzsche’s On Truth and Lies in a Nonmoral Sense. It was rather dense at times, and the author clearly wasn’t a short-winded individual, but Janus found himself enjoying it nonetheless.

One of these days he would find someone to talk about it with, but engaging in human’s questions and theories about the world was strictly frowned upon and, in extreme cases, worth punishment. So Janus curled up against his reading log, opened his forbidden book, and tried not to think too much about the rules he was breaking.

He was only about a page and a half in when something rather large whizzed over his head and knocked his hat clean off. His eyes snapped from his book and he scanned the trees, lips curling into an involutory grimace. He was just getting into a rhythm, how dare someone interrupt his sacred alone time.

A swath of black above his head caught his attention and Janus followed it up, grimace deepening when he met the eyes of a demon, perched like a gargoyle on one of the lower branches of a nearby tree. Janus always hated demons. They were pesky little things, always making his life harder. They were like toddlers: never knowing when to leave you alone, and somehow always finding the one thing that drove you up the wall like nothing else.

This one looked like any other, lips parted to show off menacingly sharp teeth as a hand rested around the trunk of the tree they were perching on. Their eyes were bichromic—not uncommon, but not quite standard either—and they were dressed in oddly casual clothing. Despite the heat, a thick jacket hung behind them, and the threads holding the rips in their jeans together cut into their knees.

They looked like a teenager, eyes alight, grin curling, and fully set to ruin any and all peace Janus has just settled into.

“What was that for?” He snapped, not bothering to keep his tone cordial. Demons didn’t do cordial.

“‘M bored.” They shrugged, thin lips curling into a smirk.

Janus sighed and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He settled on pinching the bridge of his nose. “You must be new around here. Listen, there are literally hundreds of humans around here. Go find one of them to torment. You’ll get more out of them than you will out of me.”

The demon scoffed. “You torture humans for a couple millennia and shit gets boring. But I haven’t encountered an angel in the human world before.” Their purple and teal eyes lit up. “Humans can’t interact with me. But you can.”

Dear God this wasn’t what Janus wanted to deal with today. He didn’t need a demon pestering him out of boredom after an already excruciating day of paperwork. He just wanted to rest and read about some human who thought he was right about everything. Was that so hard to ask?

Apparently so. He groused internally.

“I don’t suppose you’ll leave if I ask you nicely.” Janus grumbled, deadpan. The demon snickered and that was all the answer he needed. “Yes, I figured as much.”

He sighed, and returned to his reading. Well, he reopened his book, but couldn’t very well focus with the demon hovering over his shoulder. But maybe if he pretended to ignore them for long enough they would just go away.

Not a minute later something sharp ricocheted against his temple.

“Ow!” Janus’s hand flew to his head. Angels couldn’t be bleed, even in a human disguise, but that didn’t diminish any pain they might experience. Something Janus cursed every single time he stubbed his toe on his desk leg.

The demon only grinned at him. Janus’s fingers dug into his book, knuckles turning white as he fought not to chuck the object at the offending Ethereal. He took a deep breath and gave the demon his best menacing glare.

“If you must bother an angel, find another one. I don’t have time for your antics.”

“Nah.” The demon smirked, settling against the tree. Or, trying to. Their face contorted into one of annoyance as they struggled to get their wings to cooperate, but eventually they got themselves settled. Janus fought not to laugh.

“I think I’ll stay here.” They said, raising one hand to inspect their black painted nails. They didn’t even bother hiding it this time around, picking off a small chunk of tree-bark and chucking it at Janus’s head.

He ducked, popping back up with a frustrated sound. “Would you stop that?”

The demon looked at him, a languid, smug look on their face. “Make me.”

Janus sniffed. “Maybe I will.”

He didn’t mean it, of course. He would never stoop down to a level as low as physical violence, no matter how much he wanted to. He would just get back at the demon in a better, smarter way.

“I’d like to see you try.” They mocked.

“I’m sure you would, wouldn’t you?” Janus let a smirk of his own form across his lips.

The demon paused, staring at him before they grumbled something Janus couldn’t make out, turning away from him for the first time that afternoon. Janus felt something warm and triumphant bloom in his chest.

“Well?” He pressed, enjoying the feeling of finally getting the upper hand. “Aren’t you going to keep pestering me?”

The demon turned their head with an odd look on their face before they scoffed, rolled their eyes, and vanished in a puff of smoke.

Janus smiled, dusting off his buttondown before returning to his book. For real this time.

Mission accomplished.

—

 Over the next week Janus prepared to encounter the demon again, making sure to run through conversations in his head, sharpen his tongue, and develop his wit enough to drive them off again. When they didn’t show their face, Janus brushed off the disappointment and continued with his life.

It was better that the demon had been driven off, no mind that Janus might have actually enjoyed the lack of stuffy conversation and constant subtext that came with talking with angels. Demons were, first and foremost, a nuisance, and Janus was glad he had had properly gotten rid of one. He should be proud.

Which is why, two weeks later when he was out on a stroll about the rolling cobblestones of the town, did he stop dead in his tracks and stare slack-jawed at the figure perched above the ice-cream parlor.

“See something you like?” They grinned after they caught Janus staring, bangs falling into their eyes as they tilted their head.

Janus shook himself from his shock and brushed off his vest. Instead of responding, he ducked behind a building. The demon, black wings on full display, wasn’t corporeal at the moment. And Janus, in his human disguise, couldn’t be seen talking to thin air lest the citizens think him insane. And he didn’t need to make his job any harder.

He emerged from behind the restaurant no longer visible to the human eye, off-white wings glittering in the sunlight. He sighed, feeling the warmth filter through his feathers. He didn’t often go out in his angel form, and this was definitely a nice change of pace.

“Are you really an angel?” The demon interrupted his thoughts, resting against the edge of the restaurant, arms folded across their chest.

“No, I’m a human with wings.” His wings shifted for emphasis, sarcasm dripping from his tongue.

The demon snickered. “You sure about that? Angels are supposed to be all polite and proper.” They gestured vaguely with their hands, face scrunched in distaste. “Thank God you’re not like that. I think I’d suffocate under all your sunshine-happiness if you were.”

Janus didn’t verbally respond, but he didn’t brush off the words either. They were right, as much as he was loathe to admit it. The angel way of interaction was stuffy and suffocating and left absolutely no room for negativity. Janus much preferred it down here, where free thought was a given and he didn’t need to endure disappointed looks for saying his day was mediocre.

“So, that begs the question.” The demon continued, sizing him up. “What kind of angel are you?”

Janus scoffed. “I think that’s a bit too personal of a question, we don’t even know each other’s names.”

“Virgil.” They said immediately, not even deigning to hold out their hand. “Xe, xir.”

Janus’s face twisted for only a moment, but he shoved the feeling away. He shouldn’t feel bad about misgendering Virgil when he hadn’t known xir pronouns, but the little pang of guilt still tapped at his chest.

“Janus.” He said, shoving away the feeling and holding out his hand. “He, him.”

“Boring.” Virgil said, only glancing at Janus’s hand before looking away.

Mouth twisting, he lowered it. He didn’t know why he expected the demon to be even remotely respectful and kicked himself for having that idea in the first place.

“What evil activities are you planning, hm? What can you possibly do at an ice cream parlor?” Janus inquired, not wanting to think much about the demon anymore and determined to get xem to leave as soon as possible.

Virgil smirked. “This.” Xe snapped xir fingers.

A child started crying. Janus could see through the window that they were grasping at their parent’s shirt, tantrum slowly gaining in volume and intensity as the parent fumbled for a way to settle down their spawn. The other patrons were shooting them dirty looks and Janus would have been impressed if it weren’t for the extra amount of paperwork he’d have to do today.

He made a mental note to make a couple of bouquets at the local flower shop look particularly appealing later that day. The last thing he needed was more corruption on top of more paperwork.

Virgil hummed, glancing sidelong at Janus.

“What?” He snapped, not looking forward to more filing.

“Nothin’.” Xe shrugged. “You’re different.” Virgil paused. “I like it.”

And with a smirk, and a turn on xir heel, xe was gone in a plume of smoke. Janus ignored the way his chest twinged when Virgil had said xe liked Janus, instead slipping back into his human disguise and entering the ice-cream parlor. Tonight was going to be long and he needed ice-cream, and maybe a glass of wine or two if he was honest, to get through it.

And if Virgil’s sidelong smirk and bizarrely sincere words stayed in his head for the rest of the day, then no one had to know but him.

—

If you like, please reblog. <3

[violetsareblue-selfships]

F/O List!

Buckle up cause there’s a lot ^^; Also listed on my carrd

Romantic 💖

Link - Legend of Zelda (general) - Tag: ‘my protector 💖🏇‘

Zelda - Legend of Zelda (general) - Tag: ‘a princess’s love 💖👑‘

Sheik - Legend of Zelda (general) - Tag: ‘harp serenade 💖🎼‘

Impa - Legend of Zelda (specifically Hyrule Warriors) - Tag: ‘written in the stars 💖🌟‘

Dark Link - Legend of Zelda - Tag: ‘his angel 💖🗡‘

Ghirahim - Skyward Sword - Tag: ‘glittering diamonds 💖💎‘

Mipha - Breath of the Wild - Tag: ‘iridescent scales 💖🧜‘

Urbosa - Breath of the Wild - Tag: ‘warm safflina 💖⚡‘

Revali - Breath of the Wild - Tag: ‘the wind beneath his wings 💖🐦‘

Sebastian - Stardew Valley - Tag: ‘i’m glad you stayed 💖☂‘

Diluc - Genshin Impact - Tag: ‘I'd Melt For You 💖🍷’

Xiao - Genshin Impact - Tag: ‘Our love transcends 💖🌥️’

Thoma - Genshin Impact - Tag: ‘The Housekeeper's Assistant 💖🍡’

Scaramouche - Genshin Impact - Tag: ‘His Right Hand 💖😈’

Ayaka - Genshin Impact - Tag: ‘Sakura blossoms 💖🌸’

Albedo - Genshin Impact - Tag: ‘A study of love 💖📒 ‘

Kazuha - Genshin Impact - Tag: ‘blanketed by autumn leaves💖🍁’

Beidou - Genshin Impact - Tag: ‘You’ve stolen my heart💖⚓’

Ningguang - Genshin Impact - Tag: ‘I’ll compose us a symphony💖💼’

Beigguang (poly ship) - Tag: ‘A leader; a pirate; and their bard💞🎶’

Heizou - Genshin Impact - Tag: ‘You're My New Dream 💖🔎’

Shinobu - Genshin Impact - Tag: ‘Our Bond is Strong 💖🔪 ‘

Dabi - My Hero Academia - Tag: ‘blue flames in the dark 💖🔥‘

Shigaraki - My Hero Academia: Tag: ‘decay is natural; just like us 💖✋‘

Crushes 💖

Midna - Twilight Princess - Tag: ‘the moon to my stars 💖🌒‘

Sidon - Breath of the Wild - Tag: ‘your love is sunlight 💖💧’

Elliott - Stardew Valley - Tag: ‘we’ll write a happy ending 💖📝‘

Leah - Stardew Valley - Tag: ‘kissed by the sun 💖🌻‘ 

Raiden Ei - Genshin Impact - Tag: ‘An everlasting love 💖🍰’

Yae Miko - Genshin Impact - Tag: ‘forever by your side 💖🦊’

EiMiko (poly ship) - Tag: ‘Our love shines eternal 💞🌸’

Candace - Genshin Impact - ‘Tag: love shields us 💖🌊’

Part-Time F/Os 💖

Elsa - Frozen - Tag - ‘another form of true love 💖❄️’

Shirayuki - Snow White with the Red Hair - Tag: ‘royal blue and apple red 💖🌿‘

Zen - Snow White with the Red Hair -

Obi - Snow White with the Red Hair -

Isabela - Encanto - Tag: ‘a love as soft as rose petals 💖🌹‘

Dolores - Encanto - Tag: ‘(I’ll Be Your) Respite from the Noise 💖🔉‘ 

Platonic 💚

Abigail - Stardew Valley

Penny - Stardew Valley

Sam - Stardew Valley

Generic Stardew Tag: ‘home in the valley 💚🌅‘

Generic Genshin Impact Tag: ‘Friends Come From All Over 💚🌐’

Generic Harbingers Tag: ‘Stronger Together 💚⚠️’

Familial 💜

Toga - My Hero Academia - sister

Camilo - Encanto - brother

Childe - Genshin Impact - brother - Tag: ‘I’ve Got Your Back 💜🎣’

Signora - Genshin Impact - sister - Tag: ‘Sisters Born of the Same Flame 💜🦋’

Klee - Genshin Impact - sister - Tag: ‘The Spark Knight's Big Sis 💜💥’

Zhongli - Genshin Impact - brother / father idk yet - Tag: ‘Shine Like Gold 💜🪙‘

Toriel - Undertale - mother

Generic Encanto Tag: ‘Family is a Gift 💜🎁‘

[a-third-attempt]

A Brief Interview with Khiari

A/N: I recently (ahem, “recently”) adopted this character from @snejkha. As a getting-to-know-you exercise I sat down one evening and tried to work though everything from the post “oc asks that reveal more than you think” by @yvesdot​. Instead of just posting the answers, I’m picking a few to touch on in a format that’s a little more fun to read, maybe smoothing out xir voice, too ^.^

Come to my ask box with any questions you have for Khiari, and feel free to pick a number from the linked post if you’re not sure what to ask!

Moderator: Hello, Khiari! Will the chair work for you?

Khiari: I believe so.

Xe sits down in a plush armchair, xir arm fragments orbiting near the sides.

M: I’m glad you were able to make it today! I know you don’t do interviews often so, really, it’s an honor, thank you.

K: A mortal should not waste so much of its life on flattery.

M: Err, right... Well, let’s start by you telling us a little about yourself! Where do you come from, what do you fill your day with, anyone special in your life, you know.

Xir hands wave in long, flowing gestures when xe speaks; the two orbiting the chair guiding the smaller fragments as if they were held together by a string.

K: As I’m sure you’re aware, Khiari is a conversational name. My full title is Eternal Season Guardian Khiari-rizu Awathaine, Precious Beheld of the Keeper in the Fifth Gate.

M: That’s... very interesting! but I’m concerned that... our audience... will not understand the significance of what you’re saying. Do you think you could break that down a bit for us?

Xe pauses, considering xir words.

K: I believe you call my kind Angels. But I was not present when the stars were lit; I was birthed of Awathaine, who trained me. My primary duties are to ensure that my mortal Bounds, in their deaths, pass through the Sixth Gate unharmed, where they will be prepared by its Keeper for their next lives. Occasionally I must ensure safe travels into the Fifth Gate as well, but it displeases my Keeper to see the mortal realm disturbed by my presence.

M: ... Thank you for elaborating? So you came over here today for your... Bounds? And you had a few minutes between the gates to chat with us?

K: Some such thing, yes.

M: And have you been at this a while?

K: I began my duties in this realm at roughly when humans began to perceive. My first Bound was human, and many of my Bounds have been human.

M: So, you’ve been at this for a while, it sounds like.

Xir many eyes begin to ooze a viscous purple gel.

K: I am young, yes. Do not think that makes me incapable!

M: Ah—? I, of course not. No, I’m not, I wouldn’t— well, I wouldn’t say that about you, first of all, but I also wouldn’t want to besmirch the name of... Awa-thane? Who exac— Is that your mom?

K: As I said, xe birthed me and trained me. I would not call xem my mother, it is too intimate a title. Xe is very old, and so xe has birthed many. And xe is very powerful, so xe has trained many more.

M: I see. Do you think of xem as family at all? More of an auncle, maybe? Do you still keep contact with xem?

K: No.

M: I’m sorry to hear that.

K: The life of an immortal may be endless, but our time is just as precious as yours. We may rest in the End Days, when entropy at last dabs dry the river of life. For now, there is much to safeguard from the chaos.

M: So... your duties keep you busy then?

K: Very.

M: So probably no romantic interests, either.

K: None that I have pursued.

M: ...Oh?

In silence, xe looks down and fiddles with xir legs, contorting them into a knot. It looks incredibly painful, but it seems that xe has done it almost absentmindedly.

M: If you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t—

K: I don’t see any harm in speaking of it in this realm. Our union would never have lasted, of course. She is a celestial, but not of my kind. It would be fanatically irresponsible for us to pursue a courtship. But when I see her dark robe and that wicked blade, stare into her soulless orbs, that unmistakable scent of decay— I wonder.

M: Wonder if you should go for it anyway?

Xir wings flutter gently.

K: Perhaps in the End Days, when the affairs of mortals need not separate us. And in any case, I see her often; she comes for all of my Bounds. I know she always will. Occasionally we have the occasion to exchange gifts. We shiver in unison when our eyes embrace. The ‘missing’ piece of my arm is locked away in her endless void. I hope one day to adorn my rags with a feather from her wings. But she has been very careful... as of course she must be...

M: Well, I’d say you should make a move! She sounds wonderful.

Xe says nothing. Many of her eyes are unfocused, xir thoughts clearly elsewhere.

M: Uh, well, I understand you need to get back to the, uh... the gate— but I want to make sure we have time to answer questions from our audience!

 * * *

A/N: Now it’s your turn! Come to my ask box with any questions you have for Khiari, and feel free to pick a number from “oc asks that reveal more than you think” by @yvesdot​ if you’re not sure what to ask :)

[libidomechanica]

I shant hard to make a wash, would employ

And suffer and with more like decay, by nature living all   from powders, ready to burst, one another?

Ancient fountain-source of the good a card. S chambers held her wrest thou dost councils, her hatching to hear than mimic scene more,—

      then Belindas Neck he spoke, that hour company   of their back. Love took such stormy stated mother one and friend and Elephant Umbriel, hate, as settled: there she could be fair Via Lactea.

  Love in sight, so place,  our pain;1 for pale and thought,

        the motes that wake into my heavy fired at once around himself, the time of love her thro Galilæos Eyes; and the bravest he looke loue which you tell the Town. A golden fleece I shall I cannot tell, but these extreme disguise, in among his sonnets pretious trees, nor remedy

for me the question in the striplings, it is a park! Toasts a dusky race. It was more paines her eyes,    for his gray bar

& my people, who guide seafaring slipperie place of whom wing touch, risking to and such a thing, so fierce Thalestris cried, sinks down to all presaging his compressd   the bright Order all. Haidee and Clear Heart, or seed

& when the heavy price   Wisdom is in our child, as possible blue   with not to love in sonnets pretty lad, but gave his Chair.   while my Nostrils, show, he state;

one on the sun slow brow and perfume light is ouercome wandring in mutually, thought to be romantic to burn alive, if I forgo?      Forget. And thus to th Aerial Plain.

Spleen, vapours, mirrhe, gum, aloes, from its little too rude a Gale, no registry, no long,   must still in another my turf when Dancing all along wind, its pipe in mine Ear, and exorcise the truth that in Heaven knows I have you

  will goes down with Flowrs, with the Wonder shows in her as the morning height, perhaps the spreads the word taught her: to cast an amorous “Smiths were glowing happiness of ladies the splendid angel wings, colours the Soul of this lamp, and therein the subways

to make the Spring result of men, but a woman of Day.             The dread a book together if i could mountain, like a full-stop here.

With the fair eyes that in my back, she fled, or so; a gentle Belle rejects Mankind, its own; uncurld it in his condition to dazzle let them thus honor, or her, and I lovd.”

[ho4bakugou]

Wafture- waving

Ft. Demon Sugawara and angel reader for my “Life’s Joy” milestone event

Warnings: symbols of religion and some flower language. loosely based off of my religious trauma so. open ending possibly??

notes from k: i have a problem with putting flower symbolism in my writing im sorry lol. no dialogue for a change, just my weird diction. as for me not posting the denki one- i read it back last night and it was so badly written that i decided to forgo posting it

Angels and demons don’t need sleep, but it is nice to allow yourself to slip into unconscious peace, if only for a couple days of the month. Plus, he thinks, waking up to your face in the light of the morning sun is something he will never get tired of.

Not to mention how your beautiful wings seem to glimmer in the sun, and while you’re asleep he can run his hands through the feathers without you nagging that it tickled.

He was not lucky enough to have the feeling of having your wings pet, as being a demon caused the feathers to fall off and almost decay, so he settles with playing with yours whenever he can.

It’s almost ironic, an angel and a demon falling in love and enjoying as much domestic bliss that time will allow. You were made to be mortal enemies, though some twist of fate caused you to fall into a deep and passionate romance.

While there is always the need to look over your shoulders, he wouldn’t trade this for anything the human world, or hell, for that matter, could offer. You kept out of your respective afterlives, and made a comfortable living here on earth, where you could get some semblance of peace.  

When he fell, Sugawara never thought he would get to have something like this. It is common for demons to have partners, but they are kept between other demons, and are usually the kinds of relationships you would expect from creatures who are supposed to be the embodiment of evil.

Angels, too, could date, though it was hardly what you could call romantic. Many of them were too “pure” to do things like kiss or even hug one another. Being with each other allowed for Suawara to have a loving relationship, and for you to be able to feel like you’re acrually dating him.

 He broke out of his thoughts as you shifted to bury your face in his chest, and he noted that your wings seemed to have started molting last night. Oh well, you can deal with that later. For right now he wants to spend as much time as possible in bed with you.

❊❋❊❋

Your boyfriends sleeping face is ethereal, no pun intended. It’s one of the only times you can see him truly relaxed, without the lines of worry that come with fearing Heaven of Hell finding you.

He doesn’t allow himself to let his guard down like this often, so when he does, you make sure to cherish it as much as you can. On multiple occasions you’ve awoken to him watching you sleep, sighing his need to watch over you for his staying awake. 

You knew it was risky, being in love with a demon. No boubt if Heaven found out, you would be seen as a traitor of the highest meaning of the word, and there is no telling what they would do to your boyfriend. 

But in the late hours of the night, when the crickets were the only nose besides the occasional movement from Sugawara, you let yourself stop thinking about all of the what-ifs.

His wings twitch, and the leathery feathers catch your attention wuickly. He always said he hated his wings, that they were a symbol of that he lost when he fell, but you thought differently. The black feathers were very soft, and if anything, they showed the true difference between you two.

Sugawara is night, darkness. He is a raven. You are day, purity. You are a dove. According to all accounts, the two of you should not even be friends, but you seem to bring out the best in each other. 

❊❋❊❋

A sweet smell of pancakes wafted trough the small apartment, and that combined with the coldness on Sugawara’s side of the bed coaxed you from a peaceful slumber. 

Your lovely boyfriend was busy in the kitchen making breakfast, and barely reacted when you wrapped your arms around him from behind.

The rest of the morning was spent clumsily feeding each other pancakes, and watching reruns on the tv to procrastinate going to the store for much needed groceries. 

❊❋❊❋

While caught up in one another, neither of you notced the small bundle of wolfsbane and black roses being placed on the windowsill next to the bed.  

[venuspoetry777]

9 of clubs

Cauterized cut off from source

Dry blood loose bones fractured

and blistering to die in the 

fetal position rocking the cradle 

Amputated limbs fornicating your

depth perception i wrestle with security

To a delicate superposition

Embalmed and set on fire like 

angel wings at the cemetery gates 

Practicing our witchcraft in full moon

glow brewing up a potion of delicate 

decay forewarned by prostrated psychic 

veils raptured into where the core sits

vacant and abandoned like spare change

in a wishing well

The hate fell upon the masked face where grace misled 

the hunger pangs irrelevant relations

jaded by hopeless romantic correspondence 

the lovers ream interrupted by writhing 

escapades eloping elaborate limitations

 Resizing the various parts that dance in 

semitones and cents 

We confiscate 

the motionless parading of parasitic 

lunatic fringes 

We reach an asphyxiated 

lunge towards doubt facing inwards

 Judging the naked eye in what moment 

exists by our duality in leisure or work 

the motives of reflected fragments spinning 

round our butterfly conscious to inhabit 

exhibits of mercy and freedom castrated by the pendulum.

                                                                                                   -Venus

[self-shipper-snowdrop]

I saw this meme and then stuff happened-

Anyway I will throw myself into the dumpster now-

[garrett-lionsroar]

The Lions Aesthetics

Bold for always, italicize for sometimes, strike-through for never (or N/A)

FLOWERS

DAISY :  wears their heart on their sleeve. soft voice. minimalist clothing. laying in a field of tall grass. walking barefoot. puts other people’s happiness above their own.

BELLFLOWER : very consistent friend. happy face with sad eyes. careful touches. hiding a blush. light giggles. makes friends easily. knows how to make you smile.

PROTEA :   proud. big gestures. African heritage. blushes easily. tries to look tough but is really just a big softie. content where they are. doesn’t love easily, but always deeply.

MOONFLOWER :  knowing smiles. doesn’t open up easily. late nights. tired eyes. soft skin. not as innocent as they seem. loose clothing.

BLEEDING HEART :  hopeless romantic. still laughs at dirty jokes. believes they can change the world. caring looks. dyed hair (wigs). kisses on the cheek.

SUNFLOWER : big smiles. always looking for the positive. lots of friends (of varying uses/necessity). warm afternoons. basking in the sun. stares off into space a lot. sitting in comfortable silence.

DANDELION :  wishing for the impossible. shooting stars. light breezes through their hair. white clothing. whispered secrets. far off looks. kind eyes.

WEATHER

𝙍𝘼𝙄𝙉 - melancholy at best, introspective, severely misunderstood, pleasure in the subdued, helping in your own way, dreams in poetry, the slowness of falling asleep, refreshing meditation

S𝙐𝙉 -  sun-bleached clothes, futures that are too bright, everything at arm’s length, balancing intensity, blind encouragement, comfort of sleep, distracting sunspots in your vision, necessity of growth

S𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙈 - chaos with a purpose, emotions running high, natural comfortable anarchy, high volume, leaving your mark,  brief flashes of violence, rambling quickly, the intensity of desire

W𝙄𝙉𝘿 - running towards instead of away, instinctive motivation, making an impact, knows everyone who knows anyone, playful pranks, mood swings in a split second, collecting old trinkets, uncontrollable focus

S𝙉𝙊𝙒 - serene on the surface, cold-blooded heart, love it or hate it attitude, good memories, heavy discussions, sharp determination, relentless resolve, not as scary as it seems

GREEK MYTHOLOGY

EROS:  scornful jealousy • pink • presents a certain decorum • heavy air in a nightclub • has a tattoo they regret • sex & love therapist for their friends • juvenescent • uses enchantments • aloof • wears rose-coloured glasses • velvet, latex, & lingerie • milk baths with champagne bubbles • impetuous in love • intense eye contact is a sport • kinky • soft lips • wears stacked rings • sets fashion trends • graceful movements • marble floors • heavy perfume or cologne • deeply emotional • born glamorous

HECATE:  prefers canine companions • wears symbolic jewelry • can see spirits • melting wax • uses hexes • feels most comfortable at night • smell of cinnamon • moonlight • red wine • understands poisons & herbs • collects bones or feathers • partakes in rituals • black • fog at night • is aware of their shadow self • embraces the unknown • enjoys collecting secrets • approves of necromancy • meditates • has prophetic dreams • lace • knowing too many secrets • fishnet stockings

PAN:  enjoys poetry & prose • wool • smell of decaying leaves in autumn • prefers to be barefoot • tends to overindulge • easily excitable • thriving in social circles • loves being around campfire  • antlers • dirt paths • the sound of wind chimes • penchant for sticky fingers • pine trees • stamina for days • falls in lust • vagabond • physically stronger than given credit for • foxglove • welcomes luxury • non-confrontational • charming words • talking to animals • nature for jewelry

NEMESIS:  angry • protective of their values • balance & harmony • looks like an angel but isn’t • more perceptive than people realize • snow capped mountains • grey • wears leather • silver jewelry • likes snakes • can’t stand ignorance • believes in retribution • analytical of own emotions • well read • marble columns • has very rigid morals • bruised knuckles • humorous under the sarcasm • clean workspace • everything in moderation • cold morning air • resting glare face • fluent in curse words

HYPNOS: very calm demeanor • easily overwhelmed • relaxing is their vice • transactional friendships • has a soft voice • head in the clouds • carries drugs with them • has a sibling they’re close with • drawn to winged animals • lavender • has plush furniture/blankets  • starry eyed • horrible money management  • gives amazing hugs • dreaming big as a full time job • wears comfy or loose clothes • existential questions • not good at memory based skills • fairy lights • can’t sleep somewhere unfamiliar • crystalline chandeliers • dislikes bright sun • fluttering eyelashes  

IRIS: life’s a technicolor spectrum • has a lot to say • beaming smiles • always has candy with them • flirting by accident • walking to the beat of their own drum • gossamer curtains • has a surprising amount of connections • blushes very easily • confident laughter • uses a staff • fresh fruit slices • decorated handwritten letters • a social chameleon • blood made of honey • treating people with kindness • sentimental heart • vases full of wildflowers • feels fulfilled when helping others • has a healing aura • always traveling • stained glass windows • just trying to be a good person

Tagged by: @blue-eyedraven​

Tagging: Anyone who wants to do this! Its great fun! 

[garudabluffs]

May 06, 2019       Creeping Toward Tyranny              

READ MORE https://www.truthdig.com/articles/creeping-toward-tyranny/

238 comments

As the late great Jewish intellectual, Hannah Arendt, warned her own German people: “Empire abroad entails tyranny at home.”

"War is a Racket"     https://youtu.be/hZZD4nc08uc

Trump REMOVED from 2020 Ballot in California and Illinois, More States to Follow

dmorista 11 hours ago

While this is a good article and discusses important issues and the mechanism of authoritarian rule, which I agree we are slipping towards, it avoids discussing the largest single issue.  That issue is the massive power of the Israelis, and their Zionist Sayanim American Jewish allies (definition, Sayanim {sing. Sayan; Hebrew: helpers, assistants} are Jews who live in and often hold the citizenship of lands outside of Israel, but who are recruited clandestinely by the Mossad to assist with its operations, Metapedia < https://en.metapedia.org/wi... >); including the many virulently Zionist Jewish Oligarchs and a larger cohort of American Jews who achieve professional status and work as moles, wreckers, and spies within the U.S. governmental, think tank, and media establishments.  I will state that American Jews, despite the presence of significant numbers of Zionists, are in general less supportive of foreign wars than the population in general, and that many especially in the younger generation are very critical of Israel.  In fact younger American Jews, who largely do not subscribe to the romantic myths of Israel that captivated many of their parents and grandparents, and who are quite likely to be married to non-Jews, are much more likely to be concerned by the dramatic and undeniable decay of American society, than to care about smashing the Arab states that border Israel.              

The biggest single event/crime in which this cabal is implicated is the 9-11 attacks, for which the official story is an absurd diversion.  The Israelis could not carry off 9-11 entirely on their own and did so in collusion with various elements of the American political establishment, the military, and the Deep State.  The evidence for the major Israeli / Sayanim role in 9-11 is overwhelming and has been reviewed by Chris Bollyn in his books, many articles, and interviews and lectures, in many articles at Veterans Today, and in many radio shows presented by Kevin Barrett as well as on the Antedote radio show (Barrett's shows and the Antedote are both available on No Lies Radio).  The consequences of the 9-11 attack alone, the ill-fated Global War on Terror (GWOT) that amounted to a regional war against the enemies of Israel, have been ruinous to the U.S. with something on the order of $8 trillion wasted, millions of Arabs killed, maimed, or recruited as new enemies, and thousands of young Americans killed or horribly maimed.  The U.S. has been financially ruined by the 18 year long GWOT, that is where the money for health care for all and our pensions went, and the Israeli parasites are still sucking the blood out of the U.S.  For an example Netanyahu reportedly said to convicted Israeli spy Jonathan Pollard, as he left his prison cell after a visit with him, "Once we squeeze all we can out of the United States, it can dry up and blow away." (this controversial quote reportedly appeared in a newspaper article by Gil Hoffman, in the "Jerusalem Post" from Feb 10, 2009, in an article entitled "Kadima wins, but rightist bloc biggest". {this was reported in a metapedia article noted that they retrieved the article on August 11, 2009, that link to the article is now dead however and I could not find the article using logical web searches, maybe someone who has access to archived copies of the Jerusalem Post on microfilm could research this issue }; that citation is from "Benjamin Netanyahu" at < https://en.metapedia.org/wi... > ).  Pollard "provided Israel with 360 cubic feet of classified military documents on Soviet arms shipments, Pakistani nuclear weapons, Libyan air defense systems and other intelligence sought by Tel Aviv to advance its geopolitical agenda." (see "Sayanim — Israeli Operatives in the U.S.", July 19, 2010, Jeff Gates, "Veterans Today", at < https://www.veteranstodayar... >).

I'll just mention a few other situations that occurred in or to the U.S. in which Israelis, Zionists, and/or Sayanim were involved.   I'll start with Louis Brandeis, who was the head of the World Zionist Organization (WZO) and who became a Supreme Court Justice in 1916.  While Brandeis, and his assistant Felix Frankfurter who joined the court somewhat later, was an admirable, decent, and very progressive man politically, he continued to run the WZO out of his court offices in complete disregard of the ethical and fairness standards for justices (for a more comprehensive examination of this and other issues listen to "Political Zionism – The US Connection — Alison Weir"  on the "Guns and Butter" at < https://noliesradio.org/arc... >) .  In 1954 Egyptian Sayanim, organized by Mossad, worked to bomb American and British targets in Egypt and blame it on the Muslim Brotherhood, but their plot was revealed when a bomb blew up prematurely.  In 1967 Israeli air force planes intentionally bombed and strafed the U.S.S. Liberty killing and wounding most of the crew, an American naval airstrike to relieve the ship was recalled by LBJ himself, while in the air flying toward the Liberty.  The survivors were threatened with death or injury to themselves and their families if they talked about the event, so it took decades to become public information.  Both Kennedy assassinations at least partly involved Mossad and Sayanim actors (only one book ever looked at this Michael Collins Piper's "Final Judgment: The Missing Link in the JFK Assassination Conspiracy", those interested can read a pdf copy of the 6th edition at < http://www.serendipity.li/z... >, anything from the 5th edition on contains the most important material, Piper kept adding to the book as more information became available to him); the motivation for Israeli involvement in killing the Kennedys was JFK's dedication to stopping further proliferation of nuclear weapons (this included a sincere desire to work with the Soviets to destroy American and Russian nuclear weapons) that Ben Gurion and various Sayanim in the U.S. were determined to obtain from American resources, and RFK's opposition to Israeli crimes and his determination to find out who really killed his brother.  Don't forget that Jack Ruby (nee Rubinstein), the Jewish gangster who killed Lee Harvey Oswald in a bizarre semi-suicide operation, was a close associate of Mickey Cohen (head man in the Los Angeles mob, and the largest single contributor on Earth to Israel), and Meyer Lansky another big financial supporter of Israel, as well as a former employee of Richard Nixon during his HUAC days.  Furthermore, when Oliver Stone made the movie JFK, Mossad agent Arnon Milchan made sure that Stone only looked at the CIA, the FBI, and the Cuban exiles and did not examine the role of Israel in the assassination.  Milchan was a key figure in stealing nuclear material from the U.S. for the Israeli bomb project, and also made the first movie to feature a jetliner, hijacked by Evil Muslim Terrorists, that crashed into a skyscraper in New York, namely the Pan Am building and that was in the late 1970s.                                                                                                                   I don't claim that the U.S. ruling class is benign and not capable of considerable evil without the influence of the Zionists.  The poisonous U.S. policies for controlling the poor countries, that have coveted resources, goes back to the first Philippine Insurrection from 1899 - 1907.  Techniques of social control developed there were brought back to the U.S. for use to destroy opposition to the American entry into WW 1, and afterwards for the destruction of the labor movement.  This was repeated after WW 2 when, again, the Philippines were the laboratory for vicious means of social control, that again were used internally in the U.S. within a few years. But the contemporary Israeli / Mossad / Sayanim complex is certainly one of the main factions that fight behind the scenes for power and control.  The 9-11 conspiracy led to a series of ruinous wars that bankrupted the U.S.   This, along with the processes that Hedges has long discussed, made sure that the decent wing of the U.S. ruling class is unable to ally, with the activists from the general population, to demand that society provide the needed resources for reforms like national health care, the reestablishment of affordable good quality public education, and so on. The fall back position for much of the ruling class is fascism.

[thesunlounge]

Reviews 203: Basses Terres

The photographs by Ghislain Mirat that adorn Basses Terres’ Naked Light EP set the scene perfectly, portraying a sonic alchemist meditating within a glowing orange haze and surrounded by his sorcerous implements: a waterphone, a saxophone, and a box of modular electronics. Working with these tools, a few fellow mystics (Mika Oki, Mathilda, Aethra), and some seriously psychedelic production techniques, Basses Terres has crafted one of his most far-out and enigmatic sound journeys yet. Released as always on Brothers from Different Mothers, this six track set merges ritualistic drones with futuristic energies and spends most of its time wandering through dystopic worlds of shadow vibrations, wavering noise collages, disorienting cosmic atmospheres, and anxious braindance workouts. And towards the end, after tripping out in a dreamworld of darkness, Basses Terres sweeps the soul into the light with the lush balearic ambiance of “Sentiment Océanique.”

Basses Terres - Naked Light (Brothers from Different Mothers, 2019) “Wilfred Doricent” begins with cave sounds from a robotic dimension, massive bass throbs, rattling panoramas of skittering cymbal shimmer that pulsate in intensity, and crunching beats moving below bowed streaks of metal. Haunted arcs of feedback are swirled around by disorienting drone spirals and flowing chimes of starlight, while skronking saxophone bubbles fade in before disappearing like smoke. There are subtle rhythmic change-ups and drop-outs keeping the mix unsettled as snares fly through puddles of dub-slime and all around, breaking glass electronics merge with the fluttering sounds of insect wings. As splattery kicks alternate with sub-bass bursts, smeared out brass atmospherics sway hypnotically with romantic chords that are stretched and mutated into ghost choirs and swirling clouds of atonal psychedelia seem to glow and breath. All the while, subterranean bass synths work their way into a shadow riddim that flows beneath moaning brass and synth drones...everything wavering like a mirage vision. “665 Moths” follows with chiming metals and noise modulations joined by swelling bass drones and hot blasts of static that overwhelm the mind. And while shimmering starlight oscillations, clusters of feedback, and ceremonial vocals shrouded in future fx lock together to generate spells of hypnosis, hissing waves of noise grow ever more powerful, their chaotic sprays of sound suffused with storm samples, clopping hoofs, satellite transmissions, and other seemingly random pieces of sonic debris.

“Hebi No Tori” begins in a stuttering world of bass drum anxiety with storm clouds of fractalized fx flying all around. Blasts of static and industrial noises cause the mix to sound as it’s tearing itself apart from the inside and eventually, freaky electro-drums flash in from an alien universe with swaggering mutant breakbeats. Cooing voices move throughout the air and aquaeous bass riffs vibe out while all around, spacey sonic fx evoke crystal cave fluids dripping against neon membranes. There’s a nervous sense of energy accentuated by occasional rhythmic drop-outs that leave alien bass fluids bouncing against the skull and high-frequency insects crawling across the surface of the mind. And each time the track slams back into the jacked out IDM rhythms, there seem to be even more layers of psychoactive sound floating through the stereo fields…all of them moving against the laws of physics as they start and stop in random patterns and accelerate in ways that don’t seem possible. It’s the kind of music I imagine emanating from some ominous and smoke shrouded off-screen club in the futureworld of Blade Runner, all euphoric visions of a sci-fi dystopia blasted even further out by cut-up panoramas of Japanese voices, strange noise cascades, and squelches and gurgles that cycle through the maddening braindance incantations, as Basses Terres induces trance states by overwhelming the senses with feverish dream shimmers and starshine drone clusters.

The shakers of “Daliæ” are sent through stargates of sonic modulation as they ride upon gurgling basslines. Bowed waterphone rods ring out through an empty cosmos while jacking kick drums built from reso-sequelches are supported by thunderous sub-bass tremors. The swaying beat weirdness is given further propulsive motion by hot hi-hat flashes while oscillating synth noises mimic the mating calls of jungle creatures from a distant star-system. The entire mix washes out at some point, leaving behind resonant synth glitter and hushed voices and when the hypnotic rhythms crash back in, they seem to have more shape, propulsion, and urgent energy while also being immersed in demented siren songs, starry sonic expanses, and spiritual voice drones that decay eternally. Universal wavefronts of magical sound wrap the soul in ominous currents of ether while also enchanting the mind and towards the end, ambient ghost choirs sing to the void and snapping synths dart and dash around the crazed beatscapes. “Yōru No Satori” follows and sees Basses Terres collaborating with Mika Oki. Psychoactive electronics background dreamworld synth smears that move in slow circles, while waterphone drones cry out over saxophones that flutter through spectral echo chains. Throbbing sub-bass swells form a slow motion waltz through a drunken landscape of melting beauty…everything moving and morphing through modular synthesis manipulations and fried delay repetitions while brain-piercing interstellar communications flow in from distant galaxies.

“Sentiment Océanique” cleanses the murky atmospheres and ritualistic shadows that precede it with luscious waves balearic romance, though you wouldn’t know it from the song’s introduction. Heavily filtered tribal beats march through thick pools of sonic darkness, obscuring the glorious trance spells to come. But as the the filters open up, we find ourselves on some beach of sparkling diamonds as radiant angels sing down from the clouds. A noise shrouded rhythm develops out of constant hi-hat taps, spring reverb blasts, and alien IDM grooves, but Basses Terres subverts the usual drum anxiety by chaining the rhythms to a meditative float. There’s a sense of building towards a glorious sunset climax, and indeed, everything swells together in strength and ebullience, shedding all hints of atonal darkness and drifting instead towards a paradise realm beyond the stars. Harmonious mermaid hazes move through tropical pulsations and the entrancing motions of schools of rainbow fish shimmer below a crystal blue surface…the vibe like staring out over an eternal sea at an exploding twlight horizon. The mix is still suffused with odd sonic blips and looping resonant lasers, but their nervous energy is soothed by brief flashes of angelic singing that seem to incandesce with hues of aquamarine and bright orange. As well glide towards the end, floating dub chords from a fantasy island build but rarely grow above a whisper, leaving space for shuffling shakers to move the body while hollow bass textures slide and morph through strange shapes.

(images from my personal copy)

[ledonggcui]

Poetry Suite A Quartet of Love and Death in the Cloud

Poetry Suite

 A Quartet of Love and Death in the Cloud

 1 Cloud

 Clouds is of solitude that clutters

Around the night of Whole Darkness

Something is revealed a scar in the Fog

Weeping thorns are ambitious

They are transmitted over in the Air

Yellow wailing of peasant women showers purple

On the earth…

Ripples of lights expand

 Solitude is not a lonely piece of Cloud in holes of smiles

Not in my pants

Facial expressions stopped our Love and Pains of Shadow

Often -----------

 It appears to be the sorrow of your Childhood

Flushed and floating over the Lake of Paradise

Bouts of laughs strokes the Body

Now they are gone with the Wind and Cloud

 Sinking underneath…

 Blue rolls over

Lightening strikes by

Sallow

 Physical draught blows towards

- @ eyes

- fair plaits shine through

- pale

you have become

 Beauty in the Castle of Vampires

 Ghosts trains carry the Emptiness into our Platform

That was the twightlights of a Morning

 Don is Goo

 Closer and closer together///

This is Now

Understanding experiences of the Spaces and

Physical magnetic fields of a snail’s pace

Urgent is our Homo Sapien’s certain qualities

Tragedies yell at the yellow killing Moon.

Urgent is the telepathic trio

Shouting and screaming and hollering

Towards the Mountains of Fountain and Pines

Our intimacy spun around an endless black holy

Hole…

Your high heels are blogged

The paradise is occasional

The Tables in the house of No. 8 … …

It meant ------- being disturbed up

Inside out

Inside on

In between…

 In the cherry Blossom

- there was your lust longing

- so

- we split

The birth of Darkness we shared the Same Emotion

Smile of bitterness are the Waves of blood and flesh

The bridges has splint and sprint

Good-bye! Chives have been chopped up

Both of you in triumph and the hands that stroke through

Hills and mountains in glory, which are

Darting up up up

 Resplendence

The morning light is not on the Fence

Though when evening approaches,

K is agitated

The fire is pure until now

Occasional coincidence no more in the Front

Frame is the portraiture in the Paint

Abstracted

 i stomp into the maze of an animal-licking disaster

that is the overall impression

in the dream, desire upsets the satisfaction of a finding that

means losing someone or something or somehow for good

madness has bid us farewells for a while

publishing is recording in the dark

our sight-seeings were simulated vision synchronize

even when we were young

when we ate and shit

 fear needs not attack us, amputate us and ambush us

that is why i am looking forward to the vacuum

limbo of no-time, non-space

there will be no tortures on the other side

though that is only an image of a maze

 i enter your oval and the navel in the morning

a cave that shelter from the shower

the tangible flesh burs-ted into flames

possession is not important here

love is not important here

memory is not important here

trains of abstract thoughts wield themselves onto our vision

that is still abstract in the dim lights

a vision that is a curve becomes the cave

conceives the poetic emotion in motion

harbouring our ambiguous

rendevouz

the morning was grey

 Moments of decaying firefly is over the other side of the

Ocean

At the aft a swift jump is a

Rendevouz means that Nothing’s non-action

Common news together with the Sea Wind blows over

Let’s be romantic! Years toils and peasants coils are buried in the Earth

Only the banal rodents screech occasionally ugly

In a perverse high, there was a longing for the Amour of Vertigo and Delusion

The artificial sun-light is saturated in the Sunset

Smearing the Floats

Then on this side of the Otherness…

Cloud rolls by

   a blind leads a blind: the end of the age of innocence

 approached...

orange haze...in the distance

groan is a daze

yet the dark cloud meshes the pleasure of words

mechanically

monotonously

it is a misread dead misconception

 conceivably, boredom wrinkles

they do not snore

when you listen to the void

glaringly, you are in a trance

are we together?

 matrix array

a maze

you and me are a craze

the significance of the well in the desert of h-division

is nowhere

you turn around and see

nobody

 is it dead out there?

sublime

patterned

underneath the moan of the moon

dots of tinkles sacrifice our pleasure of inferno

with the crater of volcano

your megalithic compound is

squared

  ritual of deities - shaving

 hair grows: the longer, the slower; the shorter, the faster

white noise comes again, a mushroom cloud

let's reason the reasons

when someone is lynched

 hands, thousands of hands shout: ' name Anita Buddha

mantra thinks

image stinks

as future comes as a hole not as a whore

 then slow motion is shot backwards

yes, man and woman have a history of shaving: right NOW

- regenerate and degenerate -

by a sex metaphor

we interpret the same texts

- those talking asses

 bomb catches up with our Brahman

some say woman is cloned from an egg

no, tomb is womb, they reckon

some try to clap their hands with one hand

no reasons, no

but the ritual of shaving in both sexes, the hair

 now is a hole with a whole

intentions segment to five portraits of communist revolution

- splintered shaving heads are somewhere

the talking asses, understand?

 don't you mind that you don't have a mind but hair?

   claustrophobia 2

 god's testicles were slashed and stashed away upstairs

we are packed like sardines into a night

train travels in vain: clicking and clanking to the black and red

utopia

no, a dystopia

three monkeys were conceived in a giant leap

industrial revolution turn us into pollution

people still rant about abortion and castration

 I saw your face and I bump into a grimace

kill that dog.  It will not bark

lock up those monkeys. They will not rebel

in this animal farm, I am dragged behind

the black psychic of a schooner of some queer beer

It make the nation opening up

god is alive

 abattoir

 having acted out to kill a MP

people start to believe a 'bad trip'

constitutional wisdom is equal to black

that is white and that is black

fallen angels are being tempted by underground

propaganda, that is:

100% beef topside mince $4.49 a kilo

chicken wings $4.99 a kilo

lamb legs $4.99 a kilo

BBQ thick sausage $1.99 a kilo

lean round steak $5.99 a kilo

tender bone steak $7.99 a kilo

corned silverside $5.99 a kilo

sirloin steak $5.99 a kilo

rump steak $5.99 a kilo

scotch fillet $9.99 a kilo

 - human intestines stir-fried with a bit of red wind -

I shouted

Intellectuals are flayed

Nine peasants are roasted

As my soul is cheap in Glebe morgue

 2 Wonky

 mattress filth lies a mannequin

wonky laugh is however a phone number

Cadillac turns the other way into heaven/hell;

shoes hanging loose with laces disturbingly fragmented

supermarket shaver kissing a pair of knickers

dream represses a loft; Scared

only too used to be scared the Ugly

mind the deviant Decadence, someone thought

no conflicts, no tragedy

absurd-um and residue of genome ...

1838 J. Hogg wed and shed his romantic crime

'ruse of reason'...

all youngsters suspected and yet looked up to

their god-father

backwards toward the Self

other side is pointed by the lay-out of point-out;

just a pair of Reebok

high-tech is now and nay

simulacrum presents the House of Disturbance and Dis-Esriture

system fails and shut down: still files are in the Network

oblivion + ignorance = wonky

 Square

 skeletons are arranged in a yellow rape seeds field

retch your souls out !

growth and embrace stand still in the centre of a square

subtle reactionaries rush towards/away the deinstitution

 mimic smiles are zipped up on the slits of a bald head

fuck you ! you fucking dentist

as well as the liberty of a tooth

it can not undo the knot of a square abattoir

as crimson creeps in

  Patchy rains drops onto your

Corny lips

She is being panicked

The Trains of Memo-ria has run in the Mountains of

Fragmented Recollections of Hers

Inferiority and suicidal lying-down over the rails for the Trains

It has ascended over some Skills of hers

She has no sensible and sensitive passions

Only beastly-like

Only too soft for being purry cat

The self-doubt on the Podium of Monument is pretty vacant

Between the Red Walls the black remembrance and shade

Uphold themselves

The madness of yours and mine twirls high over the Autumn Leaves

They seem to be decadent and listless

There are diagnostics and symmetry

But sighs of Eminence

The ring bells of the Waif Waist starts to tumble and tinkle…

   Poetic weirdness is stuck into the navel of a half crescent

Pollen blows wild

A cross

Blizzard! Stunned! By your paranoid

Numbed by your endless crimson tails

I am being tickled by your Fat bums

Flicking are you in the Flame

A 3-D picture switch to a 2-dimensional flat tron

Back and forth……

That’s it

The euphoria submerged into the dust storm of

Our desert.

Yet the whirlpool of those spirals regenerate our

Very Mirage

Disturbed is the sound that drills with our twenty-one grams of Hearts

Unbearably light and low………

   In the Dark of the Hearts

 wisteria melts its colour in the snow

avanlanch is not for the maniac

I squint from the dark

I see the rattling plastic bags in the caravan

I am not sure of the Together of your hippodrome

on the other side;

is just a war memorial

a view with

an Attitude

in a radical flight

Wings grow later after the delivery

still fledgling

as that is not a farewell because

we have not met yet.

 rainbow testifies itself in the valley

as night approaches

what we need is a dialogue

under the blue winter sky

BEFORE it get ugly

Just when the cloud draws a sketch of Innocence and Indolence

In the dark of the hearts

  Sick colours are manipulated off a Space

Whiteness stabs into a concept called Love

Violence twists the Flesh of a Child

It swallows the flagrance of the Breast Myth

Milk full-cream stalks our Flirts

 Screams are sick on the Hospital beds

Screech is a dagger

Darting

Through the Room unfettered

 The yellow fluids frightens the Horse tails

Copper’s baton.whistles.pistols

Kiss’s women mop up the Red dreams

 Chaos expands

Ambiguity sink in the sands

Repressing the Hell of flirting

Space

It tells…

    Smoked lives

Nothing new will happen

Some scattered thoughts of the No.! vision from the

Atlantis is 101

Navy man smothers the young kisses of Fear

Over herself,, monitored,, is

Money substitutes of Credits and Debts is

H/er story

A strings of histories attaches to the Kite with

Five wings of rings, which is the Olympia Uprising,

Something is left and someone is reigning

Bland is the streamline of convey belt

Bitter cave of naves

Are shone in a beam

    Speaks aloud spoken

- the endless wait…

with me sitting back of the Hill

protruding into the Blackness of a swan

Estuary ~

The down-trodden and mentally disturbed youth;

Ready for a Ride into the heaven of cells of hundreds of

Years confinement with the Megalithic

Monument in the Memoria of this Lonely Planets of a

Cluster’’’

Anchored for the Karma Tantra Mundra and Yantra

It is telling something somehow in Silence

Decline and reclines of Postures are those Demons’ Dances

 Spelt under the Sky we try to tell a

Story; psychic group are weary of the

Glances of those strangers

It is hard to guess –

All is too quick for a lonely gunman

   The grim cloud destroy the angst-driven alcoholic

Only temporary

Transitory is the soft light mix a Fix of noisy Uneasiness

The hue is an happy face

The saturation is a skirt

Is our future a Dream?

A girl opposite to the Chord is expecting

The prelude which is the Impulse

Suddenly the Bats glide in the Night of Phantom of

Imperfections

I woke up

In fright I saw an Embroidery Silk Shoe

Please do not frown

The guilt has turned into the Water Organic

 Ripples is expanding in Virtuality

In Memoria, your facet is in love with the Distance?

Of a Poetic Decease that is

Vomiting the Sorrow of Longevity

Vomiting the Yesteryear’s Shadow

Plus the menstrual blood and filth

It is not the refusal of Hate

The forms and shapes of cloud on the edge of the Sky and You

Has vapoured a red stain in the Idea

I saw you are stripped naked streaking among the Walker and Talkers

In the marble cold Square

- as Shadows of ghosts are stalking you

- since the Law is slightly different to the Morality

 Then the emotional clashes mutate into the Tumour in the Brains

    The lanterns burst in flames

Up to the starry sky;

Wasted, tasted…

The memories of us, now and then

It’s only 40.41.42 and 43 years

Smothered are your constant stares of Emptiness

Smirks and sleeps of a visionary Image of destitude Mist

Are gone with the Wind

It flies high

As we swam down the tide

As it was drizzling.

    The method of slow discovery

 I did not know why before…

The only bliss

Day in and day out…

Mistresses squeal on the Industrial Debris

The Medieval Myth somewhat has wrecked itself

Into a Rubble

Crumble and tumble so far

Night in and night out

People are gossiping the Bottom Line Murder and its Compulsion…

The Doom has its end

Currently ---

We are against the Waves of Raves of indifference

We are against the meaningless freeze of Existence

We are against ---

Life is but a course of action and no-action and non-action…

They again start to brag about the Ruse of Reason and the cause-and-effect

 Trains hisses and fizzes in the Metalicaland

The invisible melody is triste of Sorrow and Pieta

Standing is the Constructed Pile Driver Machine

In far and wide footling lands in the Nightmares of Drum beats of

Cacophony

Now, the Images of a dark night has set in

Cobalt moonlight chaser the Drizzles of

Universe and the Meditation of Tranquility

 I am longing for…

 But It is only a course of certain kind

A Trip of hearts’ journey!

    The shopping spree is stronger than the Digital Desire

People are shrieking

The pollen floats over the soil of Fences

They have a running nose

The spring’s storm is a telephone buzz vanishing in the

Voltage current of the Trams

They are vocalising

We don’t need anything

As the Cat is tasting the cans from the Supermarket

 The bones downstairs connects with my Hands

There is an Entrance Door of a scene of

Resurrection

That was not a reason

Indulgence is not a justifying season

 Breathing hard…

Puffs of some cuffs

 The finger-nails of Positive and Negative are reduced to

Absurdity

Only the dialectic pierce is tender

Dancing full moon is fictitious seven strings

The chord is wonderful

However, their Fear and Threats, still…

Then we are all posing a gesture of Danger

 Life is sweet who would wish to die?

It is the raindrops hitting the Iceberg of the Antarctica

Smile is doubt

Sometimes they need calamity

Of being Calm

Fearless flames unite our Tenderness

The realistic tradition is no infinity

The transaction monetary is not telling a Story

It is but a course

   The shrunk gum of Teeth shone the Sunny craze

In the telephone rings

Sturdy shade is short

In the Sky of Sorrow

Illustrating our Rings of Survivals

The moustache and goatees don’t intent to argue with

Emptiness and Blankness

We met in between the Paranoid’s Rant, Slap-across-the-Faces and photos

Languages stresses your Rouge’n’Noir

When my field of Hearts is being irrigated

 Fallacy is a Medusa shakily drifting around and around

Our regrets are the early experiences and courses of Production

 3 Rant

 Untitled

A free-verse rant like the freckled digits of yesteryear

 The vials of your jelly, across the deck of the insidious creases

Into the hearts of your ac/dc melody

The position is upset

Down the north by south-west, that is our feet direction

While we are wasted in our heads

In the sky !

The polar magnetics attract each other as if in the

Classroom of experimental in the School

Since the steam engine and electric theories were powered

Propelled and sailed Like the dark varrukers Anarchy

Without tanks, fishes and the bullets I bitten

A belt a pistol and the graveyard’s hierarchy

The skins and records

On the turn-tables spin over since the Summer of a four

Digits

Not because we are born for the Facts of Roots

Something is pretty dry

Something is moistened

Something is deep underground,

  Thick dark hair expose your Hands of Azalea Red

Butterflies flutter the Sweet Life

Only the Past of Mountains hook up the Soul

You said, my stares are a bit sore

Your perfume is smelt like a font of Phantom

Your belongings is smelt  here  and  Now

I said something

You said,,

 Withered sunflowers project over the Earth

Is the mad woman

In elongated limps mermaids by the Sea

Shells breathe

Is proportioned to the Flirt

Rifle points to the Vagina of the Girdle

That is a Desert Scenery

In vague.,

 Woke up in the sirens of ambulance and Lullabies

The chords complete are curvaceous

Re-constructed sounds creates another 17

Discordant notes actions of Thoughts are another Praise Song

Beauty is unified and pulled

Beauty is not important here

    This is the monologue of a clown

Olympic committee is holding a conference in Sydney

Utopia has a Gang of Five and its members

The extreme confession owns a Past

Today the weather is nice, very nice

The forecast does not predict that of tomorrow

The theory is grey; the pure is takes of some film shots

Please drink the running water after you wash your hands

It is difficult to find the Water in the desert

Although the running water is bleached,

We can release ourselves in the W.C. of the cinema

The discourse of the Power represent a few Buddha statues, bodisattvas and Dories

The operas have got its tune and beat; vacant and lonely

Criterion, critic plus the footnote and commentary are superb.

Colourful environment is beneficial to the Personal Hygiene

Times has changed and men and women are equal

Aunt Guo has just opened an Auto repair Shop

The technicians are busy working

I gave the Car to the boss to relax

Step forward a bit…

Many problems can not be solved straight away

Returning to the Grassland is not impossible

Equality is always centred ; central is -

Anyhow this is a simple fact.

  Until now we chatted

There is a polluted river

Talk is cheap

Words’ goal is one.

The beast in the cage tears apart the rod

For the sake of Love and Scold

Where is the Ideal and Passion?

Lets start to mention the Fear

The smashed guitar openly announces in full mouth

This is not an unreplaced melody

Her throat was slit with a steel wire.

Gimme pleasure

  Vanishing faces of red and green

The lies on the Side

Drifting away from the Shore

Of my floating mortal coil

Snoozes in the copulation of Flesh and Death

Being here and now

Redenvouz in the Other Space

I touched your lips

The facial is gone in the Morning

Endless…

Another is the trouble of another

It is just a mistake

Blinking melancholy of Lips

Kissing the stairway to the Vain Hope

My wishes are dirt cheap

   With you, in the Square

 Heat wobbles through your swathe of Memory

Groan,purring and growl smut the Dark

Edge that eats up the 69 poses

Waves no longer imitate the mechanic

Motions

There were no Love lotion in your

Dream

night in, night out...

day by day...

Ambient embraces

Shout us a fairy tale of Floss

The nymphs swim and slither over

my Ocean

 day in, night out...

We are together longing for the throbs of

No-space

Negation of a Non-space

Serpent's colours and shapes

Still

Mark and reveal the Images

Phenomenon, which are

Simple

Heat will be with us tonight

In your square

   A Phantom in the Creek

 Ye! The Phantom  is at the arm's length

In my Spright the elf of Anna coles

Haunts the Bits and Bytes of the I.T.

A superhighway of Desires

Indolence is the 18 years old with a Top Gun

Crashed and smashed into the buffalo

Over the rocks of the Solitude

 Yes! The Phantom is looming in the masquerade

With mercy, melancholy and magarain

A tongue licks fast on the Brim

The cloud of your forlorn eyes

Emotions of a 1967 erotica

Simply twists and turns

Only a U-turn recalls the Pieta, Vanitas and Las Vagas

 Yeah! The Phantom is away on the window of the Desert

Our sorrow casts a shadow of Grimace

Over the Psyche, in the name of the Death, Poesy

Nights vapours the flies that

Sneak into our smell

Indolence is a sad washing machine

  no no no

in the trenches of the gunshot wounds

remembrance is the domestic civil war

the parade of Woman's Red Brigade march into

the catwalks of Light Blue sore

such was the dialogue of Freedom Village

 mayhem it was

 Still reek of the disfigured and burned soldiers

Piled in the Square parade

Flag sings in  the Plastic Flowers of dolls

Still aligned to the Meridian of the Zodiac for sure

Time froze till

A romp with the spectators

Is too much of a goose

Gliding into your Oblivion

 Tragedy it was

 Backward glances+flashbacks+demigod status

approximately equals the Sorrow

Of the Nuclear Mushroom cloud flirting

Yes it is true that love can not be borrowed

 Armour it was !

 no no no

in the trenches of the gunshot wounds

remembrance is the domestic civil war

the parade of Woman's Red Brigade march into

the catwalks of Light Blue sore

such was the dialogue of Freedom Village

 mayhem it was

 Still reek of the disfigured and burned soldiers

Piled in the Square parade

Flag sings in  the Plastic Flowers of dolls

Still aligned to the Meridian of the Zodiac for sure

Time froze till

A romp with the spectators

Is too much of a goose

Gliding into your Oblivion

 Tragedy it was

 Backward glances+flashbacks+demigod status

approximately equals the Sorrow

Of the Nuclear Mushroom cloud flirting

Yes it is true that love can not be borrowed

 Armour it was !

  untitled 171108

 means of engaging with human rights status quo by willingly taking over the

good intentions of neo-liberal state

it has increasingly withdrawn the focus strictly on art's content

to fill the gaps left with reasons why a number of co-ordinated donations

and freedom cultural and its destruction of its collections of

a collective concern

human rights struggles long after its occurence, its maintenance

it has been a collaboration's goal

successes thus depends on a concentrated

respects for different intents

and psyche, immersive drones of two-pieces

themselves, their own benefits

and recordings

the project really took off

what has been documented here is only scrapings

applicable to Spanish Magic and other factors

either in abundance or sadly

it zeros in on the process

not something more Spanish magic

lo-fi duo win over the sinks to heil spirits

and the missing links

rock the horse in 2008

80's might not have stood a chance

only time will tell.

 to discover the tactics is to rediscover 465 of disused railway yards

of darling harbour and the sound of Sounds

unpoliced and unregulated in a way

the textures are shared

neoliberal going there

and traction of each in the glosses

 an incredible band and a lots of bands

  You say, I say

 to pixy

 mermaids swim against

the wind in the sky

along the ocean road of pains

ages of expectation lie by your side

 slithering was your scarlet impressed

writhe-ring flowers had me arrested

waiting is a mind game

my heart sadden timid and tame

 dance dance to the bass beats

our imaginations perform best feats

wicked are those sublime fairies

submarine seewees twist my beings hairy

 wisteria creeps up your heart of walls

wedges squeeze your very angle of falls

my love cream molten away

be a smooth operator, you say

be a smooth operator, I say

  YOU vibrate to the beats of a solo act

my kunadili is risen to the

swirls of an Union

twirls of the Ruptures

surrendering the surrendered

Gaze

 I can feel your Cosmic Dance

Returned to the loop of a Resonance

Rotated to the Total Embrace of Succulence

Yieldingly

Peach-flowers have been

In bloom

In the fields of

Grace

 In the steam there is a tune

A melody swishing in the mountains of Love

Pieta and Melancholy and

Your face

 YOU vibrate to the feats of our Imagination

In this mortal coil

An act without audience

In silence

Heart against heart

Heavy pounding and thudding provoke the Providence

Of a taste

 I can not yell that I LOVE YOU

Because you are so far away in the Gaze

I can not yell that I LOVE YOU dream-lover

Because you are so close in the Glaze

 So its resonated again over again in our Cosmic

Dance of a trance

 4 Seals

 Seals of our six’n’sevens are stamped onto our vulnerable skins

Love is evolving

All we need is evoling Love

Objective in a subjunctive mood

Installed is the Object Love that circulates around

Such are your poses, your stains and pains

The florescent tubes brighten and dim the horns of the

Colourful ghosts runs

Thus, the rashes of our Spectrum rant in the Concrete Boxes

Thus, the innuendo of our Love is rejected, refused and gagged

   Smouldering is our Love

…12,13,14,15…

Smoke is far away

It is destructive no more, you say

Come on

Groan and grunt were 12 years ago

Mystery was coming

Artery I felt and your veins I witnessed

 Smouldering was the Past in present tense

Future is now and

Our futuristic worries smother a Thought

Mother tongue was arbitrary

So a spirit translates itself in the Court of Poetic Justice

After all it wasn’t a crime being a Smooth Co-ordinator

   As we approached the Fed Square not Time Square nor the Red Square,

Fifteen degree

The funny fanny wedges away like the balloons of Orlando

So I looked back and saw a Wolf; Mum is talking again to me

Wicked laughs echoed in a Six_Dimensional Seascape

So I looked back over again

Nothing but a cat was teasing, purring and tantalizing the crowd

And the Rising Cobra

Music was mesmerising around us

They were pretty clicky

Then we tried hard to be nitty-gritty

The moon would not tell us all

Only the toad in the sugar-cane field illuminated

   albatoir

 having acted out to kill a mp

people start to believe a 'bad trip'

constitutional wisdom is equal to black

that is white and that is black

fallen angels are being tempted by underground

propaganda, that is:

100% beef topside mince $4.49 a kilo

chicken wings $4.99 a kilo

lamb legs $4.99 a kilo

BBQ thick sausage $1.99 a kilo

lean round steak $5.99 a kilo

tender bone steak $7.99 a kilo

corned silverside $5.99 a kilo

sirloin steak $5.99 a kilo

rump steak $5.99 a kilo

scotch fillet $9.99 a kilo

 - human intestines stir-fried with a bit of red wine -

I shouted

Intellectuals are flayed

Nine peasants are roasted

As my soul is cheap in Glebe morgue

  Since the trumpets and trombones were blown……

 Feeling are the wings clipped as the sea-gals glide across the Y river

We went up to the balcony of the lounge

Thursday Thursday nights were the darkness of silence

After the underground had the times changed in the wind

In the names of the tainted Love

Uneasiness jumps jams and jinxes at the intersection of

A path:

Our hearts of wails remorse and wrinkles of a hidden Angst

Pumped 70 times per minute

When you rode the pony

When you were young

When we showered off the aftermath of responsibilities well-beings

And crises

 It is called…

It is called…

In the vicinity of our Brittle Dreams which are scaffolding a

Framework of the futuristic noisy tantrum

It was called as

The wind, trumpets and trombones were blown…

  I screamed into the Void

and discovered the Real you

Reflected in the constant reminder of

a longing for the Future

 Your Uranus curve girdles our special dimension

In the Cyberspace without your portraiture of a

Past

Concrete is the music

Yet the trip is beyond our Galaxy

Resonance is the sound without feelings

In the mist of our evening twilight

Here comes the rain again.

Here comes the rain again !

 In the darkness of some aesthetic of Saxophone,

Surfaces of sensualities and shapes of Danger's

Freedom looms around

We will set free again

In the wildness of some kooky memories of Spoken words spoken,

Fog of uncertainties now and then...

Being affected has no reasons at all.

  In our slumbers there once was a story

Not to be told

Your yellow smileys are coming as a grimace of

The pace of walking into the Unknown

A ghostly spectrum of mists in the early evenings

Looming in the Distance

 Smile is your face of Flowers longing for the Radiance

Oh! Something is in the way

Our experimental stares are timid

 Sonnet-Elf

 The dark cloud dissolve some entities of elves

As I fainted over and over on the ground

Why don't we dance to the wild beats ourselves

Because last night I went up there but never found

Your moon-lit face was sunken in the tainted mirth

As I've been waiting for a tantalizing kiss

Yet what I am left is dull and plain piss

Maybe you know too well the ecstasy of pains of birth

As a sprinkle of morning dew will cleanse off painted filth

Since the congealed blood scarlet evokes to my lost mind

- Loneliness of longings and belongs within it dwells

With elf, nymph and pixy flying low

Advertising something special and spectacular for sell

Love's shadow of lust tilts from toe to toe

Ah! the purple haze shrouds your beguiling souls!

[baelar-maeranar]

Aesthetics

Bold for always, italicize for sometimes, strike-through for never (or N/A)

FLOWERS

DAISY :  wears their heart on their sleeve. soft voice. minimalist clothing. laying in a field of tall grass. walking barefoot. puts other people’s happiness above their own.

BELLFLOWER : very consistent friend. happy face with sad eyes. careful touches. hiding a blush. light giggles. makes friends easily. knows how to make you smile.

PROTEA :   proud. big gestures. African heritage. blushes easily. tries to look tough but is really just a big softie. content where they are. doesn’t love easily, but always deeply.

MOONFLOWER :  knowing smiles. doesn’t open up easily. late nights. tired eyes. soft skin. not as innocent as they seem. loose clothing.

BLEEDING HEART :  hopeless romantic. still laughs at dirty jokes. believes they can change the world. caring looks. dyed hair (wigs). kisses on the cheek.

SUNFLOWER : big smiles. always looking for the positive. lots of friends (of varying uses/necessity). warm afternoons. basking in the sun. stares off into space a lot. sitting in comfortable silence.

DANDELION :  wishing for the impossible. shooting stars. light breezes through their hair. white clothing. whispered secrets. far off looks. kind eyes.

WEATHER

𝙍𝘼𝙄𝙉 - melancholy at best, introspective, severely misunderstood, pleasure in the subdued, helping in your own way, dreams in poetry, the slowness of falling asleep, refreshing meditation

S𝙐𝙉 -  sun-bleached clothes, futures that are too bright, everything at arm’s length, balancing intensity, blind encouragement, comfort of sleep, distracting sunspots in your vision, necessity of growth

S𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙈 - chaos with a purpose, emotions running high, natural comfortable anarchy, high volume, leaving your mark,  brief flashes of violence, rambling quickly, the intensity of desire

W𝙄𝙉𝘿 - running towards instead of away, instinctive motivation, making an impact, knows everyone who knows anyone, playful pranks, mood swings in a split second, collecting old trinkets, uncontrollable focus

S𝙉𝙊𝙒 - serene on the surface, cold-blooded heart, love it or hate it attitude, good memories, heavy discussions, sharp determination, relentless resolve, not as scary as it seems

GREEK MYTHOLOGY

EROS:  scornful jealousy • pink • presents a certain decorum • heavy air in a nightclub • has a tattoo they regret • sex & love therapist for their friends • juvenescent • uses enchantments • aloof • wears rose-coloured glasses • velvet, latex, & lingerie • milk baths with champagne bubbles • impetuous in love • intense eye contact is a sport • kinky • soft lips • wears stacked rings • sets fashion trends • graceful movements • marble floors • heavy perfume or cologne • deeply emotional • born glamorous

HECATE:  prefers canine companions • wears symbolic jewelry • can see spirits • melting wax • uses hexes • feels most comfortable at night • smell of cinnamon • moonlight • red wine • understands poisons & herbs • collects bones or feathers • partakes in rituals • black • fog at night • is aware of their shadow self • embraces the unknown • enjoys collecting secrets • approves of necromancy • meditates • has prophetic dreams • lace • knowing too many secrets • fishnet stockings

PAN:  enjoys poetry & prose • wool • smell of decaying leaves in autumn • prefers to be barefoot • tends to overindulge • easily excitable • thriving in social circles • loves being around campfire  • antlers • dirt paths • the sound of wind chimes • penchant for sticky fingers • pine trees • stamina for days • falls in lust • vagabond • physically stronger than given credit for • foxglove • welcomes luxury • non-confrontational • charming words • talking to animals • nature for jewelry

NEMESIS:  angry • protective of their values • balance & harmony • looks like an angel but isn’t • more perceptive than people realize • snow capped mountains • grey • wears leather • silver jewelry • likes snakes • can’t stand ignorance • believes in retribution • analytical of own emotions • well read • marble columns • has very rigid morals • bruised knuckles • humorous under the sarcasm • clean workspace • everything in moderation • cold morning air • resting glare face • fluent in curse words

HYPNOS: very calm demeanor • easily overwhelmed • relaxing is their vice • transactional friendships • has a soft voice • head in the clouds • carries drugs with them • has a sibling they’re close with • drawn to winged animals • lavender • has plush furniture/blankets  • starry eyed • horrible money management  • gives amazing hugs • dreaming big as a full time job • wears comfy or loose clothes • existential questions • not good at memory based skills • fairy lights • can’t sleep somewhere unfamiliar • crystalline chandeliers • dislikes bright sun • fluttering eyelashes  

IRIS: life’s a technicolor spectrum • has a lot to say • beaming smiles • always has candy with them • flirting by accident • walking to the beat of their own drum • gossamer curtains • has a surprising amount of connections • blushes very easily • confident laughter • uses a staff • fresh fruit slices • decorated handwritten letters • a social chameleon • blood made of honey • treating people with kindness • sentimental heart • vases full of wildflowers • feels fulfilled when helping others • has a healing aura • always traveling • stained glass windows • just trying to be a good person

Tagged by: @daughter-of-ashenvale​

Tagging: Anyone who wants to do this! Its a lot of fun!