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hatchetmanofficial · 6 months

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(I love this question and I love your username!!!)

Thanks!

I like to think that Alan still has a part of him, that wants to weasel his way back into society, especially after meeting his Doe-eyes. But he can never have it. It's selfish of him to want.

Or Alan doesn’t believe that even if he can get away he can be redeemed/deserves it. Or could cope with being part of society.

Boss is unpredictable and very much so picks those who believe they are someone without a cause. I'd like to think that The Beast's song "Come Wayward Souls" applies to him.

I really enjoyed Over The Garden Wall, and especially Come Wayward Souls/Potatus Et Molasses. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=hWgVdUv9UHo

It’s a shame the show got pulled from streaming services in a lot of locations.

TW suicide, death, religion feel free to ignore and delete this ask if it’s too heavy or triggering.

I watched Over The Garden Wall years ago and while I haven’t actually read The Divine Comedy/Dante’s Inferno directly… I need to as I’ve found a great VN that also derives from it called 10:16 …I seem to remember some analyses that describe the sin of despair.

(Makes sense. Catholics believe suicide is a sin.)

That is why blithe Greg was aided unlike Wirt. He is a child, innocent of the sin of despair, and in turn his seemingly random foolish actions stave off disaster, ie. dumping the coins from the ghosts creates a bonding experience while getting to Adelaide’s house so Beatrice can change her mind about betraying them.

(Also - that means they didn’t pay the coins to the ferryman to cross Acheron/the Styx! Charon’s Obol. Put into the mouth or on the eyes of the dead for that purpose. They also played a song for clemency like Orpheus.

Technically they haven’t paid for passage or received rites so cannot cross over into death and are trapped on the Earth side of the bank! Forced to wander/given more time before crossing. This may have been key to finally getting out of there. Though a villager in Harveston did say it wasn’t their time.)

And Greg is only ever in real danger when he loses hope, gives up and chooses to sacrifice himself for Wirt.

Wirt only breaks the curse when he has a realisation and dares to hope. To act. Otherwise he would have been trapped as the new employee, the new woodcutter/soul reaper/perpetuator of the cycle.

So… The Beast, and perhaps the Boss, do prey on despair and the lost. And potentially suicides but I’m not sure.

The Edelwood trees also recall The Wood Of The Suicides, which is yet another reference to Dante’s Inferno that I first encountered in The Sandman series. (Though those were in hell.)

So. With Over The Garden Wall being a child friendly allegory for purgatory or hell… I’m actually wondering if Carver, Alan, and Stitches may be dead without being aware of it? Or at least no longer strictly living, caught halfway in the liminal space of the uncanny town.

Stitches was constructed from the remains of three people. Carver doesn’t resemble his past self, retain much of his humanity or remember much about his life.

Alan… was an unprepared 14 (?) year old runaway who was homeless for at least a year in Canada (?), which means he very likely experienced at least one bitterly cold winter without adequate shelter or clothing. Due to his genetic condition he may not have even been able to feel cold or pain to know how much peril he was in and find shelter, or he was lost.

I don’t know whether he was ‘rescued’ while still alive as an alternative to dying or whether he could have actually succumbed to exposure (or to despair in a tragic literal sense) and been found then.

I wonder if this is a Charon situation, if Alan replaced a disobedient employee and a future victim may replace him. (Perhaps Stitches is being lined up, or was created to watch Alan.)

Are the employees psychopomps?

Or cultists enacting sacrifice?

Both?

In a way Alan cutting down people with his hatchet recalls the cutting down of the Edelwood Trees, that being a metaphor for death.

(I wonder if the choosing is similar to that of the employees - if he takes the despairing, those lost in life, or those who get lost in the forest. The victims are cut down with a hatchet, reaped to feed/fuel the Boss/the Beast.)

Which is more traditionally represented with a field of wheat being reaped by Death’s scythe.

A cornfield, another scary liminal space where people get lost, with similar reaping imagery, has also been associated with evil supernatural entities.

A good example is He Who Walks Behind The Rows, implying an ancient evil god/cult worship and human sacrifice. Giving a hint of why the Boss might be making them do this.

Much in the way the Ancient Greeks believed they needed to placate gods and ghosts with blood.

Doe Eyes is a pull to humanity and life. Orpheus trying to lead Eurydice out of Hades.

Or maybe the coworkers are just metaphorically ‘dead to the world’ through being taken in by the cult and largely isolated from society. (Stitches though is absolutely on some level dead or was never alive.)

I’m also seeing some Twin Peaks/Deadly Premonition parallels with forests/trees, weird towns, and another entity like BOB feeding on suffering.

I remember reading that the Boss may have been partially inspired by Bill Cipher too, so I’m wondering if the town is a little pocket of supernatural chaos.

Bill (a yellow pyramid) was in turn inspired by Nyarlathotep, who liked to start cults and spread chaos and discord amongst mortals - and where Nyarlathotep is associated with pyramids The Boss is embodied in a similarly angular form of a diamond shaped sign. A yellow sign!

The Yellow Sign is a symbol that is usually used by the Brotherhood of the Yellow Sign, a cult that worships the Great Old One Hastur. It is said that the symbol can bestow supernatural powers such as mind-control and possession, and is used to get people under the control of the King in Yellow.

Actually… Past traumatic event in Doe Eye’s life and (spoiler) aside, that may also explain Doe Eye’s nightmares and inability to sleep. As well as their pull to the forest.

So while I’m half recalling all of this or extrapolating from googled snippets maybe all of these things together are hints to the Boss’s eldritch nature.

However, he can still influence his employers. If he sees someone get out of line, he would simply have to put them back in place. Alan, however, never gave Boss any hassle, not even when he first found him. You could say he has a clean track record when it comes to his job. Until doe-eyes that is. When I say that Boss kinda has favorites. He truly does.

I think Alan was too young, beaten down and scared to rebel and so obeyed without question. I think the Boss liked that. Alan is wolf coded but was as obedient as a lamb. Or the Boss’s loyal dog, used to guard and attack.

I had a blast reading through all of this

thank you tumblr user krowspiracyanon!

#conspiratorial ramblings #is it true?? idk i won't say

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gingerlurk · 7 months

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Lovers' Crest | Chapter 5: The Family

Din Djarin x f!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You make some hard choices. Din makes a relatively easy one.

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, slow burn, non-canon (the Razor Crest never gets destroyed, it also gets upgraded with a cabin), canon-typical violence, eventual smut/filth, post season 3, canon-typical violence. Creepy cousin. Reader gets a backstory and childhood nicknames. Smut: Masturbation (m). Uhhhh please advise if there's more to add here thank you

A/N: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, A03. Thank you for reading!

You’re being escorted down an ornate hall, in a daze, drowning in emotion. You’d been near catatonic since the moment your Uncle had declared you a bride-to-be, to be sent to a neighbouring system to enshrine an alliance and propel his domain to new heights. To be sent into the belly of a beast.

No one cheered or made herald at the announcement, but they did clap politely and recite the Family maxim: Accipe quod debes.

Take what they owe.

They’d all known. Every one of them knew this was going to happen and they’d let you walk into it without warning. Even Avon.

You haven’t felt this lost since you were newly orphaned, walking these halls for the first time without your mother beside you. When the air splits apart with warning bells, you barely react. But your retinue freaks out. Despite being apparently skilled household personnel, they turn into a squabbling mess of panicked shouts and confused orders.

Through their frantic cries while pushing you down the hall, you ascertain that it’s raiders. Organised criminal units from the quarries, with highly trained assassins known as reapers. Murmurings of their plot to attack the Estate have been reported for some time but ignored by your hubristic Uncle. No way would they attack here, they wouldn’t dare.

You round a final bend and your group meets a furious assault.

Your senses sing to life, and you start to move.

The Mandalorian thunders up a flight of stairs three at a time. He shoulders an elaborate garden gate out of the way so hard it careens off its hinges. Hallways flick by as he searches for you, thinking on a loop, never should have left her, never should have left her, never should ha--

He rounds a corner and it’s like being thunderstruck.

The glittering golden fabric of your evening gown spins up a storm in the hall. In the frenzy of at least three reapers being tossed left and right by the gold whiplash, he makes out your figure. He sees you take one of them in hand and use the leverage to leap into an almost tender embrace in the attacker’s arms before hurling your weight down and converting it into a savage throw.

The sprawled figure doesn’t gain any purpose before glimmering wisps of expensive fabric are secured around his neck as you heave upwards. You don’t let go until the body is too heavy to carry.

A second reaper charges at you but you stay hunched until he’s about to barrel into you, then you straighten suddenly and he careens high. As he sails over you, the last of your luxurious skirt goes across his airway and you jerk it across your shoulder with a snap. The body thuds to the floor, neck lolling.

Din watches you drop the dead weight to the ground and sag against the wall, heaving. Without hesitating he makes his way toward you, so frantic as to miss your shoulders tense and your sigh of resolve as you ready for more fight. When you whirl with an almost staggering rage, he stutters, but your eyes clear in recognition instantly.

‘Thank fuck it’s you.’ You throw yourself into his hard, unyielding façade with a puzzling lack of care. Strong arms circle and squeeze his waist and he sucks in a breath. Din doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so after a moment he pats your upper arms a few times. His heart is battering itself against his beskar armour and he prays you cannot hear it.

You look around him. ‘Where’s Grogu?’

As if on cue, the kid bobs around the corner, making a beeline for you. He babbles a noisy string of sounds as you crouch to tug at his ears. You look up.

‘Follow me?’ It’s a question. Din smoulders, picking up the child.

‘Lead the way.’

You run.

‘Wait!’ You skid to a halt in front of a door. Mando stops, looking back. ‘Can you open this?’

‘Do we really have t—’ He cuts himself off and moves to the door, scrutinising the keypad. He holds the edge of his gauntlet against it. A loud bang with a puff of smoke obliterates the instrument. He locks his stance and reefs the door sideways one handed.

‘Subtle,’ you say, stepping inside your Aunt’s antechamber.

Your Aunt is a cold and distant shut-in who relates more to chemical suspension processes and program matrices than people. Among many predilections of hers is a fascination with formulating alchemical and nano compounds of varying purposes and effects.

It remained a mystery just how they were used, but few rivals and detractors stayed in the political landscape for long around here.

She also took great delight in displaying her creations.

You take down a dainty, glittering bandolier. Once slipped over your head, the thing is double lined with tiny capsules from collarbone to navel. You turn to a nearby drawer, tugging it open to withdraw a tiny sidearm, an obvious custom job. You feel about yourself and find a spot of fabric such in which to tuck it.

Somewhat armed, you feel a little better. You duck passed Mando leaning against the doorframe and sense him straighten up to follow.

You’d grown up on these grounds, so you knew the ways to take to avoid the worst of the bedlam erupting across the Estate. A few scuffles and several minutes pass before you slow; the three of you edge to the hangar opening and peer in.

From the shadows, your heart sinks. By the Crest stand a couple of household guards, some hangar grunts and, pacing furiously between them, your cousin, Avon. Cracking knuckles with a face of fury.

You study the scene and have a tiny battle with yourself, reaching a conclusion that elicits a pained tug in your chest. You turn to Mando.

‘I have an idea.’

Avon waits by the ship with his cobbled together retinue. If that creepy bounty hunter tries to take his cousin back off this rock, as is his suspicion, by damn is he going to make sure she stays put.

Plus, the chaos wreaking havoc would be a great cover to dispose of that weirdo.

As if summoning said chaos, he whirls at the sound of a deafening explosion to see the aft hanger start pouring smoke. From the haze he sees her sprinting towards him, barefoot, gown in shreds and face alight with terror.

She barrels into him and starts shrieking. ‘He’s here. He’s here! He’s right behind me!’

Perfect, Avon thinks. He wraps a protective arm across her shoulders. ‘Don’t worry,’ he tells her. ‘You’ll never have to see him again.’ He juts his chin to the party. ‘Head him off, do not let him into this hangar!’

The men turn on a deferential dime and scurry toward the obscured opening.

His cousin spins in his grip and grasps at his shoulders. ‘He’s dangerous,’ she stammers. ‘Are you sure those men can handle it?’

He hates seeing her upset. After all these years. Even though he knows he can’t protect her from his Father’s plots, he’ll still try. He pulls her into a hug and she burrows into his chest, hands clasped between them in a frightened little prayer. ‘Oh please, oh please…’

‘Relax,’ he puts a hand in her hair, head resting on top of hers. ‘You’re safe, Sunbeam. You’re not going anywhere tonight, hear me? They’ll take out that sicko and we’ll turn his hunk of junk into scr— urk!’ A painful spike radiates from the side of his neck and begins to burn a path across his whole body.

What? Confusion and vertigo assault his senses. He feels himself falling, the fire being followed by numbness, by nothing. Puhh… He strains to look up through vision being splotched with black and red and sees the face of his cousin, his little Sunbeam, a look of grief painting her features. Then he sees nothing at all.

You keep a tight hold on his shirt front with one hand and the little vial with the other. When you know the toxin is doing its work, you let the glass cylinder fall and grab at a shoulder, crouching slowly to the ground with his folding body.

Laying him down as gently as possible, you kneel next to him to whisper a pathetic little ‘sorry’.

You don’t get to keep vigil very long. The Mandalorian strolls from the dissipating smoke, your loop of toxic weaponry draped over a shoulder, to make his way to you. After a moment’s observation, he leans down. You feel his cloak drape across your shoulders. Oh, you’re shivering. Grogu appears beside you to put a gentle little claw on your hand where it’s dropped by your side.

Mando pulls Avon’s unconscious body across a hefty shoulder. Moving to the bench seating running along a wall, he lowers the body there, orienting him so his airway is unobstructed.

It’s so simple. And you’re so grateful you could cry. He turns back to you.

‘How long will he be out?’

‘A couple hours, I think.’

‘Ready to go?’

It’s not even a question between you.

‘Lead the way,’ you say.

Hours later, Din fidgets with an aggressive restless want, but tries to still himself enough to sleep. Shifting in the pilot seat, propping a knee on the console, he tries to clear his mind, let his thoughts wash over and away down the current.

Yet he can’t stop thinking back to earlier.

That particular section of hyperspace had been almost devoid of starlight, so the dim glow of the cockpit’s instruments mostly reflected its interior back at the three of them, huddled in separate trains of thought. Din couldn’t resist taking the chance to look back via the reflection, telling himself he’d just be checking on her.

She still had his cloak wrapped across her shoulders – the bandolier by then hanging in Din’s weapons locker. She had her knees drawn up and curled into herself, knuckles tensed against dark fabric. She seemed to be gazing into the black. It was hard to tell just going on the warped glass of the windows, but he’d been sure she was crying.

‘Hey, you okay?’ Kicked himself the instant it passed his mouth.

Kicked himself again as he saw her rub hard at her eyes and cheeks, pushing away as much emotion as humanly possible.

‘Oh, yeah,’ she sniffed. ‘Yeah, yep. Okay.’

A few blistered exhales out.

‘Just trying to figure how he could have simply sold me off like that. Down the river of greed and power and wealth. My own uncle, guardian for nearly all of my life.’ She’d scoffed, run a hand along the bank of inputs beside her and stood.

‘Guess family isn’t really worth much these days,’ she said, so sadly. ‘Accipe quod debes.’

She’d twirled the cloak off of her shoulders and draped it carefully over her vacated chair.

‘I’m gonna-- Is it okay if I go get some sleep?’

‘Cabin is all yours,’ he’d said. Then after a beat, added, ‘As long as you need.’

Now, he’s fighting a tight, hot compulsion to storm into that cabin and drop to his knees beside you. Offer himself to you; let you take anything you want.

He recalls the sight of you slipping that ribbon of multicoloured vials across yourself, adjusting it against the golden fabric hugging your torso and hips.

You’d looked powerful. And so damn beautiful.

Fussing and fidgeting for another few minutes, Din finally tells himself that he’ll never settle unless he releases the pressure. It’s just biological functioning, he lies to himself.

Huffing with embarrassed surrender, he nudges at his belt and pants until his cock is free. Rock hard and leaking already, he closes his eyes and lifts his chin while rubbing two fingers over the slick head. Maybe holding his gaze away from it won’t make what he’s doing feel quite so damn wrong.

He fists himself in his gloved hand and makes long aggro stokes – half pleasuring, half punishing. The snick, snick, snick of skin under friction fills the cockpit. He works at himself and barely manages to keep the vision of you at bay, a luscious glowing vision of breasts and ass and hair and lips.

And clever eyes, and quick hands, and laughter like music.

Din switches his hold to use two fingers and thumb, focused in on the frenulum. Efficiency now. Just finish it.

The feeling of your arms wrapped around him fills his mind’s eye without invitation and he grunts, cupping his free hand to take in his spent load. Panting for a moment, he tucks himself away and grabs an engine rag to wipe his glove off. He stuffs it into the top of a boot, to discard later.

Leaning back, he doesn’t feel that much better, but his eyes do feel heavier and he is able to slip into a restless slumber.

Waking with a start sometime later, Din automatically moves to check on the kid – his higher functioning taking time to engage. He’s halfway to Grogu’s little space before it all floods back.

He lets his shoulders slump in shame. Then they rise in concern.

Grogu’s space is open and empty.

‘Kid?’ Din calls. Nothing. ‘Grogu?’

A soft little ‘ehhh,’ comes from your cabin. What the--?

Din moves to the door that’s half open and glances in. You’re on your side facing away from him, blankets pooled at your waist and your sorry excuse for a dress barely covering your back and shoulders. But Din scarcely notices that, because Grogu’s big ears tweak and his shy face peers over you at him.

He’s been curled into your side.

‘Grogu,’ Din whispers. ‘Come here, leave her be.’

The child frowns but edges up into a crouch, grunting a little with effort. As he moves, your arm falls softly away to rest at your side. You’d been holding him in your sleep. The shame in Din’s chest turns to a sharp ache.

‘S’okay,’ you mumble, voice thick and weary. ‘He can stay if he wants to.’ You don’t turn from the wall and Din only just catches your next words. ‘S’nicer than being alone.’

This is all too much. Move into action, that’s what he knows how to do.

‘We are going to make a landing soon. Nowhere special but thought getting you some- some actual clothing was in order.’ You start to roll toward him, but he doesn’t think he can bear the sight. So he barrels on, ‘Just head up when you are ready. We will make it quick.’

He spins and stalks away.

Mando had left you wrapped in a blanket seated in the cockpit to head into the tiny settlement he’d found. You’ve no idea of the customs of this place or what their fashion is like, but Mando had also said he’d take you to Navarro where you could get a more substantial and useful wardrobe.

The choice of planet confused the hell out of you, and you’d said as much. But he’d haltingly explained that he had some land there. A modest home. An in with the local law.

You were fucking floored. Just when you thought you had some small measure of the man.

You stare out across the alien landscape and think.

‘Alright, here’s how this’ll work,’ you shift your crossed arms and instead plant them on your hips. The surprisingly well-fitted tunic and pants combo Mando had picked up for you casts you with an imposing silhouette and you’re thankful for it.

You’re proposing something crazy and you desperately want him to say yes.

Mando hadn’t offered to take you onto his ship again, but he also hadn’t made any indication he was planning to leave you somewhere either. You’d tuned up his diagnostics panel without asking and he’d simply nodded in thanks.

Was this just a thing now? Did he think you were onboard as a matter of course? Or was he afraid? Afraid that you’d reject him again?

Reject his offer, you correct yourself.

So you’d decided to be the one to make the arrangement formal, and then some.

You approach him while he’s doing maintenance on his Amban sniper, the Crest’s hold open to cool evening air and a bright twilight. He’s giving you his ‘passively listening’ posture, so you just steel yourself and get on with it.

‘There’s only so much I need to be doing on the upkeep of this old girl,’ you put a hand to the side of the Crest. Mando’s head snaps up. ‘And Grogu will usually either be with you, someone you trust, or just fine here. I don’t need to be like his babysitter or anything.’

The baby totters on a nearby rock, waving his short arms at a group of fireflies hovering overhead. ‘Ah!’ he squeaks in wonder, and sits hard on his butt.

You smile. ‘Not that I wouldn’t mind spending all day with that for entertainment. But you already have your ways of looking after him. And I also get the sense he can look after himself…’

You sweep your hand across the ship’s hold and turn to him. ‘So where does that leave me? Lounging around while you’re on jobs? No thank you.’

The man in front of you is as still as stone. You take a breath and lunge into your proposition.

‘So I’ll partner with you, on jobs.’

Mando gives an incredulous huff. But he tilts his helmet in what you believe is an ‘intrigued’ kind of gesture, so you push on.

‘You know I can handle myself. I can be useful to you. I’ll learn, maybe increase the work…’ you trail off, your words sounding painfully silly all of a sudden.

A pause so long the twilight has turned to dusk. Grogu trudges in and settles into his pod with little huffs and grunts. Din watches him with what you see is a deep softness.

‘Okay,’ he finally says. Wow, that took a lot less persuading than you were prepared for. ‘On a condition.’

Oh.

He slides the rifle from his lap and stands to clip it back into its holdings. Then he steps toward you.

A chill hits you and you shiver in your two-piece ensemble.

‘I have seen that you can handle yourself. There is no question there,’ he rasps. You shiver again, less from the cold this time. ‘What I would like you to tell me is… How?’

‘Huh?’

‘Those cards, the ones you say you hold to your chest.’ You swear his head dips slightly, like he’s looking down to where he just mentioned. ‘If you tell me about some of them and your answers satisfy me... We may have an agreement.’

‘May?’

‘That is the current offer.’

You sigh. You want this. Just do it.

‘Which ones would you like to know about?’

‘Where did you learn to fight the way you do?’

Oh good, an easy one.

‘Well for all my Uncle’s many, many shortcomings as a guardian and father-figure,’ you look down for a moment, feeling sad. ‘He did have a strangely strong desire to ensure I could defend myself. Sort of disconnected from how he really saw me in the end, and I doubt he ever paid any attention to the instructors I requested and the lessons I took. But he let me seek out and train with any master I could find.’

You smile. ‘I loved it. It was one of the few nice parts of my upbringing.’ You look up, shrug. ‘And in subsequent years, I’ve travelled a lot, not always in peaceful parts.’

You wait, Mando gives you a small nod.

‘Okay.’

‘Any other cards to flip for your pleasure?’ You’re pushing it. But you’re baring yourself so you’re feeling pushy.

‘Languages. I have seen you fluent in several.’

‘Oh, that’s just rich schooling.’

‘Right.’ Mando seems to gather himself. ‘That makes sense. One more card then.’ You try not to let your shoulders tense. You know what he’s going to ask. ‘The one thing that your… wealthy upbringing does not explain… is how you know your way around ships so well. Especially old class models, like the Crest.’

There it is. The hard one.

You contemplate lying. But you figure he’ll see right through you. So you straighten up, turn to look out into the darkness, away from his stare, and tell him what happened to you.

‘My Uncle may have conveyed a… jovial and floral air in his dealings. But politically, strategically, he was a fucking animal. Everything about his outward appearance was a calculated contrivance. Anything was fair game.’

You catch his nod from your periphery, as if he’d figured this out already. Fine, keep going.

‘One of his most secret and vicious weapons was my Aunt,’ you murmur, going back into that place and time you’d spent so long trying to push away.

‘You saw what she liked to do with compound alchemicals. It was a hobby of hers that she took into her “work” of contributing to the prosperity of the Estate and Uncle’s power lust. In the case of that particular undertaking, bumping off threats.

‘Another project she had dedicated years to was ways to make the workers of the Estate… well, not the best they could be really… But the most skilled, the most efficient, the most knowledgeable in their field. Elite and untouchable, to give her and Uncle’s empire its edge.’

You decide you may as well sit down, and lower yourself to the floor, knees pulled to chin. You sense Mando shift and retake his seat.

‘In one of her many… experiments, she worked with a mind flayer.’

‘How would—’ Mando cuts himself off. You don’t turn, just continue.

‘A modified one. Augmented to… I couldn’t begin to understand the fuckin’ tech but basically, to implant stuff. Programs she’d design to dump all the necessary know-how, skills, background, or whatever, whatever was needed for whatever job needed doing.

‘It was known to be painful, and dangerous. It rearranged neural pathways, forced the brain to change to accommodate the new stuff. Sometimes people went mad. Others died.

‘I was a kid, fascinated by the workers who would go into that room and come out dull and glazed. It was also highly secret so of course I wanted to see.

‘One afternoon, when I thought my Uncle and Aunt were off at some function, I snuck in. Didn’t touch anything at first, just, just poked around some. I um, I tripped and like, activated it. It freaked me out and I screamed. Turns out my Aunt wasn’t out and she burst into the room, furious.

‘In this- this fit of fury she grabbed me, shoved me into- into the beam of the thing. Held me there. I was probably screaming, trying to fight, but to tell you the truth I don’t really remember it all that well.’

You stop to swallow a few times, willing the tears to leave you alone. The stoic presence beside you is a strange comfort.

‘I was in a coma for weeks. They thought I might not wake up at all. But I did, and I had uh-’ swallow, breathe. ‘I had lost a lot of my memory, of my early life… My uh- my mother… and her voice.’

But there it is, burning tears make you stop and you cup your face in your hands, still trying to breathe deep so you don’t go do something stupid like sob. You rub at your face and look back out into the night.

‘Anyway, what was up in the lil’ ticker was a hypercharged datadump of the last program that had been loaded – ultraclass gunship mechanic with pre-empire specialisation. The poor sap who’d been awaiting that particular implantation was intended as a gift to my Uncle, a surprise from my Aunt for his vain little vintage ship hobby. I think they both always resented me for ruining it.’

You huff an exhale and feel oddly buoyant.

After a while, ‘I am sorry,’ Mando whispers. ‘For making you share that.’

You decide to tell him the truth. ‘S’okay,’ you say. ‘Kind of feel a little lighter from the telling of it.’

You feel compelled to tell him something else, something you’ve never told anyone: ‘The strangest part though, even though I know I have this skill with ships because of the program dumped into my under-formed brain… It’s almost like there’s more going on. Sort of, like… preternatural. Like ships speak to me or something. It’s weird.’

Okay, that was probably an overshare.

‘Uh, never mind…’

But he speaks. ‘Your skills with tech go beyond ships – programming, electrical…’

You shrug, ‘One takes a kind of logical path into another, I guess...’

He nods.

You sense the approaching rush of a decision from Mando. He’d leaned way forward as you were talking, but now he straightens.

‘We have an agreement.’

Your head snaps up to him.

‘We have an agreement?’

‘Yes.’

You smile. The growing darkness of the outside encloses your little patch of light as you and your companion look to each other.

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#remembered the break #the mandalorian #din djarin #grogu #mandalorian and grogu #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you

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impossible-rat-babies · 3 days

Text

— B A S I C S

name: eyrie kisne nicknames: none. they inherited the title "the ephemeral shepherd" after the end of the pandaemonium raids age: 150~ years old nameday: 22nd sun of the 4th astral moon (07/22) race: veena + rava viera gender: nonbinary orientation: do not particularly care profession: adventurer + craftsman

— P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T

hair: reddish brown with streaks of pale blonde + a few grey hairs at their temples and near their ears. there are a few bald spots near the base of their ears from an intense trichotillomania flare up ~15 years ago eyes: warm dark brown skin: well worn and lightly tanned with copious amounts of sun spots, freckles and moles. a section of bleached white skin runs the length of their spin, spreading out across their shoulders and lower back. tattoos/scars: light brown tattoos of the same design as their maternal grandmother decorate their fingers and hands. their hands and forearms bleached to a pale white—almost marble like to the touch. they have too many scars to dare count them, but a notably large scar stretches from just below their sternum to right above their belly button from a reaper scythe through their chest.

— F A M I L Y

parents: their mother--yelva--is alive and well back in the forest. tending to her great grand children and her goats. their father, azmi, died in an accident during the later parts of eyrie’s wood warder training. siblings: two older sisters named lilja and brita, and one fraternal twin brother named odvirn, all of whom are alive grandparents: deceased/unknown in laws and other: none they are close with. they do have copious amounts of nieces and nephews from their sisters, but their brother has no living children. they also have seven children of their own. pets: cricket (a ferret familiar, unknowingly summoned) + flower (a carbuncle inherited upon the death of the first WoL in the coils of bahamut) + gingko (their chocobo who chose them once they finished their paladin training)

— S K I L L S

abilities: brd + smn + war/drk + ast. also trained in the tradition of the disgraced paladins of ishgard. they have some small talent in conjury, but refuse to pursue the matter further on account of “personal issues” hobbies: whittling, landscape drawing, playing various instruments (lute and pan pipes), gardening, sewing + embroidery + mending clothes

— T R A I T S

most positive traits: selfless, compassionate, loving, paternal

most negative traits: selfless, quiet, liar, shameful and guilty, vindictive, patronizing

— L I K E S

colours: russet brown, maroon, olive green, ivory, pale gold smells: oil pastels, aether, chamomile, blood textures: linen, feathers, homemade paper, oil, silky fur and rough wool drinks: mead, mulled wine, fermented sheep's milk

— O T H E R D E T A I L S

smokes: briefly and socially some 25 years ago. they have some fleeting happy memories associated with the smell of garlean cigarettes. drinks: very occasionally and only socially with familiar company drugs: mild relaxants to help them sleep when the terrors get really bad + occasional pain meds to ease chronic pains mount issuance: "this note just says you can do what you want." been arrested: yes, several times by the brass blades in ul'dah after the calamity. mostly for petty crimes, but also inciting violence + bar fights + violence against members of the brass blades. (to which that was mostly violence in defense of the poor and the refugees the brass blades took for easy targets. they didn’t kill anyone though)

@redwayfarers and @galpalaven tagged me in this meme ages ago and i finally got around to doing it! im gonna tag: @fourteenthz, @gatheredfates, @hinganskies, @aethergazing and whomever else!

#tagging other ppl bc i know a lot of ppl have done it alreayd #oc: eyrie kisne #ffxiv

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ratasum · 14 days

Text

I was tagged by two people, so I'll do a couple of these. This is from @herald-of-aurene's tag! I don't know who to tag, so @wisp-enclosure and @wall-legion, you're up.

-- B A S I C S

Name: Vezz of Cautti

Nicknames: Spooky

Age: 26 at the start of the personal story, 37 currently

Birthday: haven't given him one just yet

Race: asura

Gender: male (cis), he/him

Orientation: Bisexual Biromantic

Profession: Commander, Champion of Aurene, dad, local assistant to new farmers in Applenook

-- P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

Hair: black, but he uses an alchemical compound to remove it

Eyes: red

Skin: black with gray markings

Tattoos/Scars: visible burn scar over his right (blind) eye, large one on his chest from Balthazar stabbing him, burn scar on his left leg stump just above the knee where he lost his leg in an explosion

-- F A M I L Y

Family: Vilarr (father, deceased), Cautti (mother), Rissia (wife), Tybalt (son), Sieran (daughter)

Siblings: Teall (half brother, deceased), Vanna (half sister)

Grandparents: unnamed

In-laws and others: Pazz (father-in-law), Tixzi (mother-in-law), Izza (sister-in-law), Pyrria (sister-in-law), Qirri (sister-in-law)

-- S K I L L S

Abilities: Surprisingly skilled necromancer, self taught Reaper. For a long while used his necromancy to reanimate his own leg that was blown off in a lab accident so he could use it as his prosthesis.

Hobbies: Baking bread, gardening, cooking, playing with his twin children.

-- T R A I T S

Most positive trait: Pleasant, friendly, helpful, loving, warm, a good listener.

Most negative trait: Self loathing, easily distressed,easily frustrated, overprotective.

-- L I K E S

Colors: Greens and silvers, like what his wife likes to wear.

Smells: Flowers, fresh baked bread, the soap Rissia uses to wash her hair

Textures: Soft and smooth for fabric, but he does like the feeling of dirt

Drinks: Tea, cider, fizzy water

-- O T H E R D E T A I L S

Smokes: no

Drinks: on special occasions (he's cut back significantly)

Drugs: no

Been arrested: somehow, no

#gw2 oc #gw2 ocs #gw2 asura #gw2 #guild wars 2 #keeper vezz

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theshimadaslovers · 10 months

Note

Hiii!!! How are you?

First I want to say that I love everything you write, and that I am a complete SIMP of your story "Cakes for Reaper".

And second, I wanted to know if you would be willing to write an Inspired By Art with this image...

If you don't want to write it thats okay too, I send you a lot of hugs and kisses🥰❤

AAAWWW Thank you so much! I saw your repost! This is so sweet! ❤❤ And I love that pic so much ;^; I'm so glad that IBA is working! 🌹💪

Obs; I GOT 2 VERSIONS (Maybe more?) FOR THAT IBA 😈

IBA - INSPIRED BY ART

VERSION 1

A FRIEND

Summary: Genji is trying to make Hanzo make new friends after got into Overwatch. Both were sitting at the garden of a big house in a mountain that Overwatch stays on the weekends when there's no mission.

Hanzo- I don't need friends, Genji. Let just meditate, please!

Genji- But you neeed!

Hanzo- But I don't want too!

Genji- I don't fucking care if you want or not! You neeeeed!

Hanzo- Friends doesn't help in anything! How many times you came to me as kid complaining about your "friends"?

Genji- Hey! Some of them was nice!

Hanzo- "some" of them?

Genji- Everybody had once a fake friend! The FFF!

Hanzo- ....F...F...F?

Genji- Yeah, is for Fucking Fake Friend.

Hanzo- *sighs* right...friends are headaches.

Genji- Hey! What about...Tracer?

Hanzo- Talk to much.

Genji- Mercy?

Hanzo- Just talk about medicine.

Genji- Wha...? Ok...aaah, Brigitte?

Hanzo- Nice but...wait, why you're only picking the girls?!

Genji- Ok ok! Rein?

Hanzo- Too loud! Energetic!

Genji- If you keep looking only to those things you'll never have one! This is obvious! Cassidy?

Hanzo- Can you just stop?!

You- Guys? *looking at both holding a tray* Are you guys fighting again?

Genji- No! He's just a stubborn!

Hanzo- *frozed after looking at you*

You- *laughs* Of course he's a stubborn, Genji, he's your brother *approaches and put the tray with tea and cake between them* You're the same.

Genji- I'm not stubborn, come on! *silence* just a little.

You- Is a family thing *chuckles sitting together* I bring some cake that I made it...by the way, what are you guys talking about?

Hanzo- Genji want me to have friends...*roll eyes*

You- You don't have?

Genji- He said that "No! I don't want friends! I hate people!" *making a funny impression*

Hanzo- I don't sound like that and I didn't said that I hate people!

You- *chuckles* I'm not your friend, Han?

Hanzo- I...I don't want to sound rude but...I don't know if I should.

Genji- You know what? Deal with him, y/n...*pick up the cake and the tea* I'll eat in peace. *get out of there* What I stubborn dickhead....

You- *looking him go* So....*back to Hanzo* Why are you so afraid?

Hanzo- I'm not afraid...I just don't need that friendship stuff.

You- Well...you're a lonely wolf, aren't you? *smile*

Hanzo- Hm...I guess I am.

You- You know a lonely wolf can't survive for too long, right? He needs to find a family.

Hanzo- *sighs* I survived until now...I like my solitude.

You- I like mine too...*sit close to him looking at the view* But, sometimes I need someone to spend time together, gossiping...make fun, playing games... is cool. Is not with everyone, of course, is only with who makes me comfortable.

Hanzo- ...*look at you* Like me?

You- Yes.

Hanzo- But...why?

You- Because your aura is good and comfortable to stay around.

Hanzo- *chuckles* Sometimes, you sound like Zenyatta.

You- *laughs* Maybe I'm spending too much time with him!

Hanzo- Keep spending...he's a good master. So...I'm...a comfortable zone?

You- For me, yes. You're a good man, Han. I hope someday you have that knowledge of yourself.

Hanzo- Good...*sighs* After all I've done, how could you?

You- Hanzo, this is past...*sighs looking at him* Stays where it belongs, in the past. The memories, traumas, can be worked out.

Hanzo- I was a terrible human being, y/n! I killed people and my bro-! *looked away closing his eyes* I harmed so many innocents...I was in a mafia! My family...my reputation...my honour...

You- Dosen't matter now, Shimada...What matter is what those traumas made you be who you're now! You changed...you fought for so long. You deserve to be loved. *hold his hand making him look at you a little lost in how to react* You. Are. A. Good. Man.

Hanzo- What makes me that man?

You- *smiles* You want me to say it? Well...you love to help and care, you're gently, patient, helpful, a golden heart man. Is a man that, I knew, since the first time I saw you, I knew how broken that man was. You're broken, Han, but doesn't mean that you're villain or good, you're just human. Be broken is being human.

Hanzo- *looking at you listening to every word*

You- The Hanzo Shimada of ten years ago is not the same one now. Everything that happened there, doesn't matter now.

Hanzo- But...I killed my own brother...*you could see his eyes watering for your surprise*

You- It wasn't you...You told me your side of the story and I promise one thing to you, Han, my friend... it wasn't you. They did that, they must die for that! You didn't have a choice.

Hanzo- I...! *look away*

You- *smiles* Hey, you trusted me to tell your story, you darkest secrets...this is friendship, you know?

Hanzo- *look at you again*

You- Why me, Han? You could have told that to anybody.

Hanzo- *silence*...I...trust you. That's all.

You- Are you sure?

Hanzo- ....*cleans throat* You...Is...! Is just you. I like you.

You- *giggles* I like you too, Hanzo, that's why you're my friend! And...trust me, ok? *put the hand on his shoulder* I'll be here even in your darkest times. I'll never disappoint you.

Hanzo- *blush looking at you* Arigatou...*sighs* I didn't knew that you think like that.

You- I only express my feelings and thoughts when needed.

Hanzo- When I...said...that I like you I...I mean it. *blushing harder and hold the cloth of his pants*

You- Oh...! *blush* Wh-what? Really? Wait! You mean...! Lo...ve?

Hanzo- I guess so...?

You- Well, maybe is just a admiration?

Hanzo- Maybe...*looking away*

You- So...when you look at me, what comes in your mind?

Hanzo- *sighs and close his eyes* Hm... I can't tell, is a mix of feelings. I can't pick one.

You- *laughs* It's ok...but I like you too, Hanzo, for real *kiss his cheek* Remember, I'll be here, always *gets up* And eat the cake.

Hanzo- *looking at the view while you go away*... *look at the cake...it was his favorite one, the white strawberry cake* ....!!! *hide his burning blushed face km his hands(pic)* She's so cute...! Why my heart is so stupidly fast?! I want to marry her! Oh my dragons...! I hate her for that....! *sighs and go back to normal* ....*giggling and slap his face* Stop it! Idiot! *silence and look at the cake making him smile again* Well...I guess I finally gain something meaningful in my life...love. *pick up the cake*

I can't wait for the version 2 💪 hope you like it!

#she/her #overwatch #overwatch x reader #fem!reader #overwatch fanfiction #overwatch x you #hanzo shimada #hanzo x you #genji shimada

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samseabxrn · 3 months

Text

7 snippets, 7 mutuals

thank you @rowanisawriter for the tag!! i'll tag @theluckywizard and anyone else who wants to share :) lots of dialogue this time around lol:

bodyguard au (cullen/f!trevelyan)

“You’re jealous,” she laughs again, because she’s feeling this insane urge to wind him up. Like maybe it’ll lead to something. Around them, a dozen Cullens purse their lips in disapproval. “They don’t know what you can really do,” he murmurs. “And does that frighten you?” He blinks, something heavy swirling in his eyes and in the air between them. When it becomes obvious he won’t say anything, the dozen versions of her stride away from the dozen versions of him. “We have an early morning, Enchanter,” he calls out behind her. She wonders what he’s trying to remind himself of with that.

2. a heart that laughter has made sweet (cullen/f!trevelyan)

It’s strange to see Cullen out of uniform. He wears light traveling armor, his wife similarly clad. It’s strange to see Cullen at all, really. He had not realized it had been that long. “You just missed Hawke,” he says. “Oh,” Cullen replies after a moment, slightly breathless. Rylen snorts at his visible relief. He nods at the woman next to him, offering a little salute. “Hello,” she says. She exhales and raises a hand to her brow. In a moment, Cullen moves to take the coat from her shoulders. Again, he notes with a hint of amusement, he had not realized it had been that long.

3. cut down at the garden's gate (hawke/sebastian)

“I wish I could have known you then,” There’s a sharp edge to it, a dangerous current. “It couldn’t have gone anywhere good. You’re better off knowing me now." “And you would have taken a bride.” She shifts the topic so suddenly, Hawke. True to her skills on the battlefield, her words aim to disorient and to dazzle. “I am a younger son. It would not have mattered who I took to wed, as long as they were of standing.” And the truth is, he could never have had someone like Hawke, never would have deserved them. “I don’t know much about being noble,” she says, slightly more subdued. “You are noble in the truest sense of the word.” And he leaves before he can act on anything he thought he left behind.

4. ordinary world (miranda & shepard, background shenko)

That’s not exactly accurate. She’s never stopped thinking of Kaidan, or of her crew. He hovers at the edges of her mind like a ghost. Like a specter, true to his name. But it’s the first time she lets herself dream beyond the snatches that kept her alive through the rubble, through all of the surgeries. The first rational thought: what would he think? Ashley should have lived. She immediately feels guilty for the thought. That Ashley should have lived instead of strong, sweet Kaidan, whom she’s killed a hundred times in her mind. Vaporized by a reaper beam slicing through the Normandy, skull crushed in the impact of a crash landing, shredded by the claws of a husk. She’s almost jealous. If there’s one thing she can’t seem to do right, it’s die.

5. negative space (pacific rim, mako/raleigh, i really want to finish this soon!)

It was the abruptness of it, really. The violence of his mind ripped from hers, an indescribable sense of loss. Like losing half of herself. No—the truth of it, as the doctor insists. She had been more than herself, and she suddenly had to return to normalcy. To singularity. To loneliness. She was shaking on that raft, shaking Raleigh, trying to work her way back into his mind, and past the relief of him opening his eyes, all that was left was bitter disappointment.

6. dead winter in the forgotten land (i call this my amell/alistair messy divorce fic)

The paper is the softest thing she’s felt in years. She wants to cry a little when she touches it, unused to comfort. The Inquisitor writes hesitantly, like perhaps she is awed. It makes Amell a little prideful and a little endeared towards her. She means to let it be, but there is something about this letter: how the envelope is covered in dirt from all corners of Thedas while the paper is untouched by any hands but the Inquisitor’s, how the handwriting slants to the right like any good Circle mage’s does, how the ink pools at the end of every stroke like the words were thought over and over. She begins to write back. I wish to see my king again, she writes, the truest thing on the page.

7. long distance (jab tak hai jaan, akira/samar)

He says he loves his country, but that’s not really why he’s here, taking apart bombs in the dead of night while their fingers go numb. The other day it was snowing, and something detonated, and he couldn’t tell between the insulation fluff and the flakes pouring down, and he was sliced through with something sharp, the sensation of having erred grievously. There’s a woman in London who loves him. Why the hell is he here? He ignores it. He tries his best to ignore it. He goes home, and his boss calls. More people are enlisting. He’s had an impact, and it begins to eat at him. It has been eating at him. He was supposed to be a singer. He was supposed to be too soft for this life. “You would be a horrible soldier,” he says to Akira on the phone the next morning. “When have I ever wanted that?” There’s a rustling that feels like it’s inside him. She must be adjusting her coat. That bright one with the fur. “You don’t listen. You’re very reckless. And your decision-making—“ “I didn’t ask for that, either,” she snaps, and the muffled rush that undercuts her words of traffic makes him frown. “Be careful,” he can’t help but say. A pause—and then she scoffs, but there’s a softness to it, something he would like to think of as fond.

#my writing #so many of these have stalled haha

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moonbiscuitsims · 6 months

Text

TAG // WHAT’S IN MY BAG?

Olive Specter / Ophelia Nigmos (TS2 premade characters recreated in TS4)

Rules: Post a description and/or photo of what things your Sim/OC would take along with them in their bag. Tag other people you want to participate!

Thank you so much @hamsterbellbelle for tagging me and giving me an excuse to open Sims again!

My sims of choice aren’t OC’s because I suck at giving OC’s personality haha I love premades so I chose Ophelia Nigmos and Olive Specter (I couldn’t choose lol). Was gonna only choose Olive as a eerie/spooky theme for October but I love Ophelia too much. These are my Sims 4 recreations of them though (mainly cause I have more clutter, more detailed lot and the sims 2 one and I find it easier to bunch clutter together with the alt key and tool mod, and I wanted to do a photo version). Don’t know if it’s ok to do the challenge with a premade or more than one sim or not OC but idc about rules

Please ignore the fact that none of this sh*t would actually fit in a bag :D Sims’ inventories are infinite anyway.

Ophelia’s bag:

Rainbow Beach Towel

Unfolded cardboard dance mat

Football (or soccer ball)

American Football

Water bottle

Comics

Homework

Letter from Johnny

Phone and Keys

Journal with doodles

Music journal (my Ophelia writes songs and raps)

Selfies with Johnny

Pencil

Cosmetics

Mini Pusheen

Lollipop

Tamagotchi

A naughty j**** Ripp gave her at school, but don’t tell Olive…Ophelia doesn’t wanna live buried in Olive’s lovely “garden” thank you.

Olive’s bag:

Creepy ass sh*t including:

A literal f**king Death Note (the Grim Reaper was like “yeah use this when you wanna see me hun”)

Dark Magic Tomes

A black rose in a skull from the Grim Reaper (his gift to her on their first death I mean date)

A vile of poison

A vile of one of her dead husband’s blood, she can’t remember which or why she kept it.

Her favourite perfume from Morocco

Sage smudge sticks for all those pesky victim ghosts, she really should have thought the whole murdering everyone and burying them at home thing through…

Tarot deck

Crystal ball (she uses it to talk to her dead husbands when she needs something or when the Grim Reaper ghosts her…

A taxidermy crow

A creepy rat skull

A witchy dagger thingy

A revolver

Cigarettes

F**king knitting

Neutral lipstick

Candles

I don’t really know who to tag tbh but if I didn’t tag you and anyone who sees this can participate and tag me if you want!!! It would be great!!

Imma tag random mutuals and other blogs/players I like, no pressure to participate!

@radical-sims @simarty @nf0xy @nefarrilou @simgone @faelegacy @hexpresso-macchiato @siliconesims @emperorofthedark @sammysundog (simsalutation to you <3 idk if you do these kinds of things) @simmerprincess17 @adrift-in-andromeda @lowvintagesims @arachnophobic-larantula (I know yours isn’t a simblr, but in case you wanna do this challenge with your Cyberpunk or another game <3) @half-rainbow-sandwiches

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theideaclerk · 7 months

Text

The Writeblr Garden Pumpkin Pitch

@writeblrgarden thank you for a fun idea!

Reap What You Sow

Naomi’s life has never gone in her favor. She’s taken to working night shifts at the shipyard to provide for her younger brother and her drunkard father, but she’s strained. One night, when the plague steals her breath and rattles her bones, she meets a man who changes everything about the way she sees herself, and the world around her.

CW: sickness, death under cut.

A rasping, rattling cough escapes Naomi’s lungs, stretching at her throat with wild, panicked claws. Still, she stared down the man in front of her with calm grace, blocking entry to her brothers room with one arm.

“You won’t touch him. You’ll have to go through me.”

The man, though she couldn’t quite make out the details of his face or the tone of his voice, seemed to chuckle. “And what, girl. You think you will stop me? What can a small thing like you do against a force like me?”

He met his gaze with half-lidded eyes, chapped lips kissing baby teeth. “If you’re… if you’re Death.” The boy began.

The man froze, a hesitation very much unlike him. “What?”

The boy barreled on, undeterred. “If you’re Death, why am I not dead yet? Why don’t you kill me?”

Details:

Set in a time like the Industrial Revolution but somewhere different

Reapers are familial, and maternal

Ruling changes hands like money

Fantasy

F/M romance (new for me lmao)

TW:

Death

Religious undertones (fantasy)

Sickness, plagues

Assassinations

Blood

Graphic depictions of violence

#the idea clerk #writeblrgarden #the clerk strikes again #writeblr #writing #current wip #wip #pumpkinpitch #select “b” to begin writing

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wroteonedad · 8 months

Text

Songs for Early Autumn

Look, LOOK, I know that it is literally still August, but the weather this summer has been so bad that I am ready for all the leaves to fall off the trees and to go to a pumpkin patch again. I am writing this as a storm starts and the rain falls heavily over the garden beneath the balcony. The thunder begins to rage louder and that starts to scare me because I hate hearing loud noises that I am waiting for. I put my noise cancelling headphones on to drown out the noise. At first, I started to listen to a Podcast. It was Emma Chamberlain's Anything Goes series where she's discussing the concept of living in Los Angeles. The thing is I hear all the time about how good Podcasts are when you need background noise while you focus on something else, but I found it unbearable to listen to. It made my brain fog up, as if hearing someone else speak meant I needed to focus all my attention on what they're talking about, even if they are essentially saying nothing. So I swapped back to listening to music and I already feel so much clearer ??? I feel like I want to listen to Podcasts if only they weren't so distracting for me.

Anyway kinda back to my point. This selection of songs that I wanted to feature is very much directed for the girlies who watch Gilmore Girls (or maybe not I have actually never watched the show), adore the aesthetic of the Autumn and perhaps enjoy a pumpkin spice latte. I promise this list will not simply contain Sweater Weather by The Nbd; but let me just create a visual representation for the type of vibe I'm trying to go for here.

I took all these pictures from Pinterest btw, even made a whole new account just so I didn't have to Google search stuff like 'autumn aesthetic we heart it'

Without any further ado, here are the songs:

Reaper - AS YOU SOW (2018)* The Cardigans - My Favourite Game (1998) Francis Lai - Un Homme Et Une Femme (1966) Miley Cyrus x Stevie Nicks - Edge of Midnight (2020) Kate Bush - The Wedding List (1980) MOTHXR - Touch (2016) Mareux - The Perfect Girl (2021) Rendez Vous - Sentimental Animal (2018) High Sunn - Ramen Waitress (2017) Nicolas Jaar - No One Is Looking At U (2015) Shygirl x Bjork - Woe (I See It From Your Side) (2023) Still Corners - Midnight Drive (2013) Jeff Buckley - So Real (1994) Eleven Pond - Watching Trees Bedroom Mix (2012) Gang Of Youths - What Do I Do If The Fire Goes Out? (2017) Weyes Blood - Andromeda (2019) Boa - Twilight (2001) Twin Peaks - Making Breakfast (2014) BLOXX - Novocain (2016) Anika - He Hit Me (2010) Bat For Lashes - What's A Girl To Do? (2006) King Krule - Dum Surfer (2017) Wolf Alice - Sadboy (2017) Moses Gunn Collective - Dream Girls (2016) Le Tigre - Phanta (1999) Chargaux x Soft Glas - Lullaby (2014)* BLAISE MOORE - Yyz (2016) Crystal Castles - Year of Silence (2010)

*A couple of these songs mentioned in the list are no longer available on streaming platforms and upon further search, it seems the two artists whose music is not online anymore is due to removal of all of their music. However, I have found some Soundcloud links to the tracks and they are also still available on YouTube.

Happy listening to my playlist for the season and hopefully I will remember to do things like this more frequently.

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still-single · 2 years

Text

New Heathen Discos / more reviews to follow

Some radio shows to ease your troubled minds.

Episode #296 (June 12, 2022)

HOUR 1

Flanger Magazine – Sympathies to the River

David Nance – Amethyst

Kikagaku Moyo – Effe

Azita – Bruxism

Tommy James and the Shondells – Crimson and Clover

Cocteau Twins – Lorelei

Weird Nightmare – Sunday Driver

Eggs – This Party Never Ends

Cyrus Pireh – Adomono Tone Control

Magazine – The Light Pours Out of Me

HOUR 2

The Neon Judgement – The Fashion Party

Beau Wanzer – Blood Type Gravey

The Gruesome Twosome – Hallucination Generation (Joker’s Revenge Edit)

Alan Vega – Saturn Drive

Dharma – Dreams of a Final Theory

Chevalier Avant Garde – The Killing Fields

Green-House – Produce Aisle

The Stroppies – Material Condition

Kitchen’s Floor – Haunted Houses

Sorcery – Woman

Rats – Mainhorse Cowboy

Estus – On the Wings

Freda Payne – I Get High

Roller – Homunculus

HOUR 3

The Modern Lovers – Don’t Let Our Youth Go to Waste / Dance with Me

Nite Fields – Take My Side

à;GRUMH… - Another Brick in the Wall Part II

Midas – One O One

Bomb the Bass – Don’t Make Me Wait

L/F/D/M – Midnight Muscle

Penza Penza – Merman

Linton Kwesi Johnson – Reggae fi Dada

Glenn Branca – The Ascension

BABY? – Babbling Brook (Vintage Dust)

Forest Management – Liminal Suite Pt. 2

The Velvet Underground – I Found a Reason

Episode #295 (June 5, 2022)

HOUR 1

The Leather Nun – Slow Death

Afrorack – Last Modular

Astaron – As Time Joins In

TSAP – Vile Corporation

Danse Macabre – The Voice of Bulgaria (instrumental)

Brian Case – Our Ruin

Horsegirl – Homage to Birdnoculars

Long Odds – Not Enough Stars

John & Beverley Martyn – Auntie Aviator

Smoke Bellow – Maybe Something

Rose Mercie – Sweet Place

Daniel Villarreal – 18th and Morgan

Steve Hillage – Musick of the Trees / Palm Trees (Love Guitar)

HOUR 2

Vivienne Styg – Leather Love

Jess Scott – Climbing Numbers

Dick Diver – Private Number

Microdisney – Town to Town

The Party of Helicopters – Neverending Cycle

Tar – Goethe (live)

Rudimentary Peni – Vampire State Building / Blasphemy Squad

New Age Steppers – Fade Away

Forest Management – One After Another

Fievel Is Glauque – Decoy

Cookie Jar – Far Out As Near As Can Be

The Neon Judgement – Hot Sally

Roller – Habit Man Zero

The Arms of Someone New – No City Fun

Kim Phuc – Razorblades

Cyrus Pireh – Message of Universal Solidarity

Goblin – Tenebre

HOUR 3

Mr. Big Mouse – Duck the Mouse (Ascorbic Acid Mix)

Tomaga – Very Never (My Mind Extends)

System 56 – They’re Only Dreaming

Construction Crew – Break That Beat (That Noise Mix)

Heavenly Bodies – Rains on Me (extended mix)

Brandon Coleman – We Change (Part 1)

Chronophage – Spirit Armor

Doramaar – Monestrial

Blue Öyster Cult – Don’t Fear the Reaper (demo)

Episode #294 (May 29, 2022)

HOUR 1

Mess Esque – Sweet Spot

Just Mustard – Seed

Bardo Pond – Don’t Know About You

Mosquitoes – Outlines

Th’ Faith Healers – Love Song

Penza Penza – Merman

Siouxsie & the Banshees – Hybrid

Th Blisks – I Don’t Fade

Anne Clark – Counter Act (instrumental)

Apiento featuring Harriet Brown – Down That Road (Apiento & Tepper Dubbed It)

Depeche Mode – Nothing

Winged Wheel – Central Ceiling

Felt – All the People I Like Are Those That Are Dead

HOUR 2

Zusammen Clark – Rest Position

Comet Gain – Allende

The Go-Betweens – Head Full of Steam

Bailter Space – Robot World

Neu! – Hallogallo

Green-House – Flora Urbana Absumpto

Stephanie Mills – What Cha Gonna Do With My Lovin’ (12” version)

Paul Haig – Blue for You

Sleep D – Twin Turbo

Wally Badarou – Hi-Life

Silver Apples – Lovefingers

Tommaso Moretti – ESM

Viva L’American Death Ray Music – Getting Better

HOUR 3

Mura – Younger Brother

Mary Lattimore and Paul Sukeena – Altar of Tammy

Small World Experience – Side Projects

The Garbage and the Flowers – On the Radio

The Breeders – When I Was a Painter

Delivery – Personal Effects

Ebi Soda – Pseudocreme

Vacant Gardens – Field of Vines

Spread Joy – Discomfort Is Palpable

Sparks – At Home At Work At Play

Severed Heads – Halo

Chris & Cosey – Until

James Brown – I Can’t Stand It “76”

Best Bets – The Point

Yo La Tengo – Deeper into Movies

Episode #293 (May 20, 2022)

*insert image of Wednesday Addams here*

HOUR 1

STRING – Plus Operator

Maya Hardinge – Living Behind Smoke

Trisomie 21 – Jakarta

Bauhaus – Stigmata Martyr

Levon Vincent – Tubular Bells

For Against – Loud and Clear

The Cure – Object

The Scissor Girls – D1 Test (Cracked Swanreons)

Crime of Passing – Ways of Hiding

Automelodi – Angoisses D’Orléac

Winged Wheel – Central Ceiling

Austra – Beat and the Pulse (extended mix)

HOUR 2

A Split - Second – Close Combat

Fad Gadget – Lady Shave

ADULT. – I Am Nothing

16-17 – Davul

Cairo Pythian – Puce Cross

The Birthday Party – Junkyard

Kelly Lee Owens – S.O (2)

Modal Melodies – Standing Still

The Terminals – Hide Yourself Away

The Glove – Looking-Glass Girl

Ashrae Fax – Decaax

Xmal Deutschland – Nachtschatten

The Veil – Manikin (extended mix)

Whatever the Weather – 25° C

HOUR 3

The Wedding Present – Never Said

Prefab Sprout – Desire As

Shirley & Dolly Collins – Rambleaway

Roller – Au (Gold)

My Bloody Valentine – Feed Me With Your Kiss

The Litter – Breakfast at Gardenson’s / Future of the Past

Green-House – Mycorrhizare Dreams

Deep Tunnel Project – Elysian Fields

Spiritual Mafia (ft. Alan Partridge) – Bath Boy (30 Mil From My Gland remix)

The Hazmats – Empty Rooms

Drive Like Jehu – Super Unison

Marley Marl feat. Biz Markie and Heavy D – We Write the Songs

2022 Demo

Book me to play records at yours.

19 notes · View notes