#How about we all get round a fire place and sing folk Songs? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

buckyodinson · 2 years

Text

Green Eyes of Gondor

Boromir x f!Reader

Summary: The newly formed fellowship spend an evening around the campfire getting accustomed to each other. Some dancing ensues, and the Captain of Gondor isn’t fond of how close you are with a particular ranger.

Word count: 1.6k~

Warnings: none! Fluffy fellowship vibes, jealousy

A/N: I’m back into my Tolkien obsession and I’ve been having a lot of feelings about Boromir recently, so this happened! I don’t know if there’s a big market for Boromir fics but you’re getting it anyway 🤣

Boromir scowled as he watched you and Aragorn dancing from across the fire.

It had started innocently enough. The fellowship had just had dinner and were settling around the fire for the night. You were still new companions, so time like this was spent getting to know one another. You had expressed that on this journey you were greatly missing music. You spoke of how you loved the soft music that seemed to flow all around Rivendell during your brief stint there.

You also comment that you’re a fan of tavern music, and Aragorn attests to the fact that despite your hard ranger exterior, you’re known for being up and skipping around a tavern when a song starts. You’ve both been travelling together for years, and you’ve shared the occasional drunk dance around a tavern after particularly gruelling journeys.

At this revelation, Merry and Pippin immediately stand up and ask for your hands. You’re more than happy to join them, and you make do dancing around the campfire while Merry and Pippin sing a song about their favourite tavern - The Green Dragon. You invite Sam and Frodo to join in but they politely decline a dance, choosing instead to sing along.

The height difference between you and the hobbits causes some trouble, so Pippin climbs onto Merry’s shoulders and they try to dance with you that way, which results in all three of you falling over in a fit of laughter.

Everyone is jovial and laughs along with the three of you as you get up and compose yourselves. Gimli announces he would teach you some traditional Dwarven dancing. It was accompanied by some chanting and a song in a language you couldn’t make any sense of, but you had fun nonetheless. And it of course brought some banter between Gimli and Legolas.

“You call that dancing?” Legolas smirks.

“Well I’d like to see what you Elven folk call dancing, laddie!” Gimli proposes and Legolas stands up and walks over to you.

He holds his hand out to you and pulls you next to him. Aragorn hums an elvish tune quietly as you and Legolas move around the space softly, you copying whatever he does. There’s a certain elegance to Elvish dancing that you’re not quite sure you’re getting, but Legolas smiles and lifts you around nimbly like you weigh nothing. You feel dizzy by the time he places you back on the floor. You receive a round of applause from everyone, and you both bow. Boromir, in particular, thought you looked ethereal as you danced.

There’s an expectant look on both Legolas and Gimli’s faces and you meekly admit that you prefer the Dwarven dancing. Gimli looked awfully proud of himself after that. You take your place next to Aragorn once more and take a drink from your waterskin.

“What kind of dancing did the two of you do in taverns?” Frodo enquires.

“Those longshanks must’ve been good for dancing, surely?” Sam quips at Aragorn and you reply before he has the chance to deny it.

“Oh absolutely.” You smirk, “Strider here may be a triumph on the battlefield, but he also knows his way around a dancefloor.”

“As does Y/N. And we danced whatever the occasion called for!” Aragorn remarks. “Most dances were not unlike what you just did to your own tavern song. Though we did sometimes pretend to tight-fisted barkeeps that we were newlyweds and celebrating, and the cheers from the tavern would get us free drinks. Do you remember?” He smirks at you and you laugh at the memory.

“How could I forget? Those were the most fun!”

“Let us see!” Merry shouts and there are cheers of agreement from all but Boromir, though you don’t notice.

Aragorn stands up and bows before you, holding his hand out, “My lady.”

“My husband.” You accept his hand and he pulls you out of your seat, you mockingly bow before him in return.

You both sing along to something that’s half Elvish and half traditional tavern song as you dance. There are moments that resemble your dancing with Merry and Pippin where you’re bounding around merrily. But there are also parts not unlike your dance with Legolas, swaying and pressed up against each other.

You finish your song and dance to applause from everyone. You plant a kiss on Aragorn’s cheek before you both sit back down again, chuckling.

Boromir hides his glare well, but he is in a sour mood after the performance. He has harboured feelings for you from the moment he laid eyes on you in Rivendell. He resents the bond that you and Aragorn clearly share, and he wishes he could be in Aragorn’s place. He mistakes the kiss as a genuine one, and not just the two of you playing up to the act. He misses the small chat you and Aragorn have once you’re sat down and the nudge that the ranger gives you in Boromir’s direction.

He’s brought out of his mind by your soft voice uttering his name and the breathtaking smile you’re sporting as you approach him, “Care for a dance? I’m sure I’ve never danced anything worthy of the halls of Gondor. Perhaps you could show me?”

“I’m afraid we do not have much time for dancing in Minas Tirith.” Boromir replies sternly.

“Well we’re not in Minas Tirith now, so what is the harm?” You extend an arm to Boromir but he does not take it.

“I’m truly not much of a dancer, Y/N. That is more my brother’s strength.” He looks down at his lap and misses the flash of disappointment in your eyes.

“So be it. I suppose I shall have to ask your brother for a dance when I next visit the White City.” You round the fire and drop back down in your spot next to Aragorn once more. Once the attention is off of you, and everyone seems to be focusing on getting themselves ready to sleep, you have a bit of a pout.

“He will come around, I’m sure.” Aragorn whispers to you, “I’ve seen the way he looks at you when he thinks none are watching.”

You considered Boromir’s change in mood. He’d been laughing and smiling while you danced with the hobbits. He also found you and Gimli entertaining. He looked quite in awe of the Elvish dancing. Then he sported a very stern look on his face once the attention turned to you and Aragorn. Was he jealous? Surely not. What was there to be jealous of?

You assign the watches for the night and everyone but Gandalf goes to sleep. After a few hours, you’re awoken by Gandalf for your watch. You wish him a restful sleep and take up his spot, where you can observe the whole fellowship and the wider plains around you. Boromir is assigned to take over from you but about an hour before you’re supposed to wake him, he stirs on his own.

“What time is it?” He asks blearily, rubbing his eyes and adjusting to the dark of the night.

“You still have an hour before your watch. Make the most of it.” You smile graciously at him and he gets up and moves slowly over to join you on the log you’re perched on.

“I doubt I will get back to sleep now I’m awake. I can take over now.”

“Tis noble of you, Captain, but I wish to fulfil my duty completely before I pass it on to you.”

He raises his hands in mock surrender but is otherwise quiet. You’re shocked by the question he asks you after a few minutes silence, “If the King has indeed returned and Aragorn does take the throne of Gondor, will you be his Queen?”

You chuckle, “I think you misunderstand mine and Aragorn’s relationship. We have spent many years travelling together, but he is like a brother to me.” You smile fondly and notice Boromir relax ever so slightly, and you wonder if he was jealous because of the dancing.

You decide to clarify, “Our dances were nothing but swindles for drinks from stingy barkeeps. Aragorn’s heart belongs to Arwen, the elf-maiden who gave him the pendant he wears around his neck.”

“I see. And what of yours?” He asks tentatively.

“My heart belongs to someone else also, though I do not know if he reciprocates.”

“He would be a fool not to.”

You consider your next words carefully, but based on this short exchange, you’re willing to risk yourself, “He denied me a dance this evening, what else am I supposed to assume but disinterest?”

You look hopefully at him and are met with wide eyes, “I am the object of your affection?”

“Yes, Boromir. I was bitterly disappointed you turned down a dance earlier, but it was Aragorn who convinced me that I should not give up so easily.” You smile at the dumbfounded look on the usual stern face of the Captain of Gondor.

He reaches for your hands and leans in close to you, “I’m deeply sorry for my behaviour this evening, my lady. Would a kiss help you to forgive me?”

You beam, “Perhaps.”

He leans forward and captures your lips softly, his kiss growing in ferocity when you melt against him.

You pull away breathless, blushing profusely. You shuffle ever closer to Boromir until you’re practically in his lap and kiss him again.

He matches your passion with gentleness, and tentatively pulls back, “As much as I would like to take this further, keen are the ears of the fellowship. For now, get some sleep, my love.”

“Let it be said, those green eyes suit you, Captain. Enjoy your watch.” You smirk as you slink away back to your bedroll.

He smiles as he watches you settle and fall into a quick sleep. His evening turned out far better than he could’ve imagined.

#boromir x reader #boromir x you #boromir x y/n #boromir x f!reader #boromir x fem reader #lotr fanfic #lotr x reader #lotr imagine #boromir imagine #boromir fanfic

321 notes · View notes

doubleshotofsomething · 3 years

Text

Come Into My Life

This is my entry for @nekoannie-chan‘s writing challenge. Congratulations on 500followers :D! Thank you so much for letting me participate!

This is a series. The remaining parts will be posted throughout the day. It is a Thor fanfic with a song prompt “Entra en mi Vida” (its a beautiful song, i highly recommend).

Song Prompt: Entra en mi Vida by Sin Bandera

Warnings: swearing, like a lot of it. Mentions of human experimentation. that’s it?? Also, people are idiots here, folks. bare with me.

Summary: You live in a world where soulmates don’t exist. Like, at all. All that meant to be, fate has chosen nonsense? Not real. Literal, actual, from-the-TV-screen fairytale. So... why is the God of Thunder convinced that you’re his?

Part One: Entra en mi vida, te abro la puerta

"So—" You clear your throat, throwing yourself onto the only empty seat, "—all jokes aside, guys. What the fuck!"

Everyone blinks at you, drinks in their hands and confusion all over their faces.

You stare back at them, completely dismissing the new sets of eyes staring at you. "No, seriously, like what the fuck?" You reiterate. "Like, no guys, this fuck needs an answer. What the fuck."

"Are we supposed to know what this fuck is?" Ghost asks, the first among the group of five to surpass her confusion. "Because I have a what the fuck for that what the fuck."

You reach over to grab her drink and she – having been used to your antics after three years of friendship – moves it closer for you to grab. You take a sip, let the taste of her chamomile tea settle on your tongue, blanch and give it back.

"So, you know how the Avengers got their asses whipped after they pulled a deadbeat dad, right?" You make grabby hands towards Hope's drink, and she – just like Ghost – pushes it over to you.

"Careful," she grimaces, "it has a kick to it."

"So did Thanos," You mumble as you take a sip of her drink. The espresso sits heavily on your tongue and you swear you can feel it stain your teeth. "What the actual fuck, Hope? What is this? And why does it not have sugar?"

She chooses to roll her eyes at you and mimic the remaining two new faces by staying quiet. Her eyes narrow at you in warning.

"Don't get a tude with me, missy—" You wag your finger at her, “—you're the one that MIA'd for five years without a return address and pissed off the Feds. Like, seriously, what the fuck guys? We had plans and everything! Why the fuck would you leave me alone for that long? You know how I get when I'm not forced to socialise!"

Ghost snorts. "Don't be a baby."

Pouting, because you’re very mature, you feign a sniffle and stick your tongue out at her. "Weeeeeh."

The dude with the annoyingly short blond hair snorts, consequently gaining your attention, and tries to hide his smile with his cup.

"You're new," you narrow your eyes at him. "Why are you new? And why do you look like the dude that owes me 12K for wrecking my car?"

"Oh my god—" Ghost grumbles in the background, "—not this again."

"I have bills and crippling debts and things that need to be paid for, Ghost!"

"You're a trust fund baby, you shithead!" She argues. "You don't know what crippling debt looks like!"

"You don't know that! My investment portfolio has been crumbling since the stock market crashed last year due to the recession."

Sam grins cheekily at you. "You have no idea what you just said, do you?"

Huffing and puffing, all you can say is. "Let's go back to the what the fuck that needs to be discussed." You glare at him pointedly, "then maybe, we can discuss why you're still here and why you came back from ashes."

"I know you missed me, cupcake." The evil bastard reaches over and pinches your cheek.

"I miss dancing on your grave," You try to swat his hand away, "now, thanks to your selfishness, I need a new dance floor. Very rude of you to not stay dead."

"You're adorable."

"As I was whatting the fucks," You turn back to Hope and Ghost, "when the fuck did my life become Thor versus Thanos, and why am I the Thor without the hammer to fight Thanos?"

"Is that your what the fuck?" Ghost frowns.

It's her turn to get glared at. "Don't act like you haven't seen the footage. You know exactly how badly Thor got yeeted off his high horse. I'm only regretful that Captain Wrecking Ball wasn't knocked off his."

"You know he's over here, right?" Hope, ever the oblivious one to your obvious jabs, points at the dude that wrecked your car.

"Yeah, unlike my car and the check he has yet to hand over but hey—" lifting up the cup of espresso, you grin at her "—when life gives you lemons."

"I'm still confused and offended about the Thanos reference." Sam, the gift from the bad side of Pandora's box, begins. "What do we have to do with your life?"

"What does pulling a deadbeat dad mean?" The other new dude asks, his face is both the definition of confused and annoyed. "And what does it have to do with the Avengers?"

You frown. "Now I'm confused—"

"Oh no—" Ghost grimaces.

"—Why do you look like the dude from Gossip Girl but also like the dude on the UN's wanted poster of 20something?" You turn to Sam for assistance. "Doesn't he look like that old geezer from the museum?"

Sam grins, leans back in his seat to take a proper look at the manbun dude. Your table is the round one placed at the corner – the irony – and, until recently, it has always been occupied by the four of you. That was before they decided to ghost you for half a decade.

"Now that you mention it—"

"Oh, fuck off." Manbun snaps at Sam, and you swear you've never fallen in love faster in your entire life than you have in that moment.

Your grin is wide and shit-eating as you put the cup down. You extend your hand to Manbun and wiggle your freshly painted — somehow chapped – fingers.

"I'd tell you my name but it's better if you just called me sweetheart," You’re still grinning. "What's your sign and what time can you pick me up?"

He blinks at you, still confused, and frowns at your hand. Slowly, because you’re a patient girl, you lean over and pry his left hand away from his cup. You place your palm in his and wrap your fingers around each other.

"I'd ask for your name but I think I'll settle for calling you babe," You shake his hand, and then place it back on the cup. "Or hun. I'd call you handsome, but that's too tacky and we—” You point between the both of you, " – don't do tacky."

You sit back in your seat and glance at Sam. "Well... Most of the time anyway."

At this, the rest of your life flashes you a grin. "How does eight o'clock sound?"

"It sounds like a recipe for disaster." Ghost cuts in, narrowing her eyes at you. "Back off, shithead. You've hurt enough of my coworkers"

Jaw dropping and shock feigning, you gasp. "How is that my fault?"

"Is that joke?" Ghost frowns, "because I feel like it's a joke. Three incidences with the analysts and five tech support team make it look like a joke."

You scoff at that. "Look, if your little back up boys can't handle the essence of a real woman, then that's not my fault." Confidently – and silently annoyed – you also add. "Plus, I actually did SHIELD, or whatever ridiculous name you're calling the remake of a failed organisation, a favour. If your boys behind the boys in spandex can't handle being told off by a 'mouse' as they call us, then they shouldn't be behind the dude that wrecked my car.

"But now that I've said that out loud—" You pause, "—I finally understand why the Avengers are so bad at their job. I mean, with such poor support systems, it's no wonder boy blue and red uses cars as a landing mechanism. It's almost as if he's never heard of a parachute."

There's a pregnant pause as you pretend to ponder the situation. The new dude with the blond hair has visibly turned red and is shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Manbun has a very permanent looking frown smeared all over his face and you’re pretty sure you've just ruined whatever chances you had of giving him children. And Sam, because he's Sam and is patiently waiting his turn to roast you, has the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.

Ghost pretends to scowl at you, even though you’re pretty sure she's already drawing up the schematics for the pedestal she's about to build for you. Hope, because she's Hope and has first-hand experience of dealing with spoilt little brats that use creative antics to slowly drive people away, decides to use that exact moment to sigh and expose you.

"Hey sweetheart," she begins in that voice of betrayal. "Can you, like, not be an antisocial, territorial pain in the ass for five minutes and be nice? Stop trying to get our guests to leave with your little mind games, yeah?"

You blink at her. Once, twice. Because the betrayal always takes a few moments to sink in.

"They're not mind games." You retort. "Boy Blue over there did wreck my car. He used it to cushion his fall, because apparently the super-secret organisation that harbours entitled idiots doesn't invest in parachutes."

"But you don't even need that 12K—"

"I didn't ask for the 12k. I just simply pointed out that his reckless behaviour is very costly for those who suffer for it."

"Okay, guys—" Ghost tries to interject, but it's too late. The fire has already started, and Hope and you have never been on the same page when it comes to anything involving the Avengers.

"You're being unreasonable now. You, of all people, should understand that some things are out of our control."

"That doesn't excuse or make the damage done alright. The ruining of people’s livelihoods isn’t a necessary evil for your super heroe'ing righteousness." You point out, eyes narrowed, and teeth bared. "I, of all people, don't understand your defence. Because I don't use the lab that made me as an excuse to get away with the bad shit I do to people. Whether intentionally or not."

"Really? Because you weren't singing that same song when you cashed in on all that HYDRA inheritance."

"I am not the people that made me and it's not like I'm vacationing the money away. Or have you forgotten about that harbour I had to fix because your boyfriend decided to grow a few sizes?"

"Oh, how could I forget? It's not like you rub it in his face every time he tries to so much as even say hi to you."

"People should be held accountable for their actions. Excuse me for exercising my fifth amendment because I don't think communicating with the guy that turned your dad into a fugitive by siding with the anti-accords gang is cool!"

"That accords was messed and you know it!"

“Yeah, but I didn’t go around trying to be a vigilante about it!”

"Just admit that your stance for the accords is only because you need the government's protection against ex-Hydra agents."

She hit a cord and she knows it. "You're treading on very thin ice, Hope."

"Scared they might come back and finish what they started? Now that Pierce and Rumlow are gone, there's nothing stopping them from finishing what they started, is there?"

"You know," You sigh, reaching for Ghost's drink and taking a sip. "At least, I don't have to abduct a man from his home, nearly ruin his chances at freedom, risk his life numerous times for my personal gain, just cause I have a theory about my mom's whereabouts. And then—" You let out a condescending laugh at the thought, "—have the audacity to look him in the eye and call it love. Because, ya know, turning a guy into a science experiment and berating him for doing what he thought was right is so romantic."

She's turning red. You can see it before it actually happens and there is a sick sense of pleasure coursing through your veins at the thought. At the fact that you’re the one pressing all the buttons.

Boy, are you fucked up.

"Damn." Sam mumbles, then chortles, then belts out a laugh. "Shit. Who pissed in your gourmet breakfast?"

"People," You scowl at him. “Fucking people. Because, now call me a bitch if you insist, I don't remember telling management to sign a deal with SHIELD."

"What the fuck?" Ghost, ever so caring, contributes to your bewilderment and pissy mood.

You nod frantically at her. "Exactly! What the fuck! Do you see why I needed you guys so bad? Like, it's like the creation of the Strike Force all over again!"

"Hold on—" Captain Damage Ball cuts in. "—I'm confused. What exactly is going on and what does SHIELD have to do with it?"

"Oh boy. Germany, here we go again—"

"Don't be an asshole, shithead."

When SHIELD fell and Black Widow released all those classified documents to the public, your existence was made known to the public. It turned out that running a terrorist cell inside a super-secret organisation wasn't the only thing Pierce had hidden from the world. You were.

You were supposed to be an experiment. Another volunteer, like the Twins, for Hydra's ultimate plan. Another Bucky Barnes, but without the constant torture to keep you mindless and loyal.

You were supposed to be the next generation. The Rumlow that wouldn't need force and violence to get the job done. That was the requirement. Those were the orders. That's what you were supposed to be.

Instead, somewhere deep in the dark, cold corners of an abandoned Hydra lab, the inhumane attempt of creating Winter Soldiers through 'natural means' had taken place.

The surrogates were all volunteers, the scientist claimed.

The procedure was necessary for the mission, the doctor explained.

This is the only way forward, the master mind behind that plan argued.

Rumlow took care of the agents himself. Pierce burned down that lab himself. And, out of all the children born, you were the only one that lived longer than the rest. The others were unfortunate enough to be experimented on, before Rumlow found out.

Not knowing who to trust, Pierce kept you hidden from the world and Hydra. He never hid the truth from you, nor did Rumlow. They knew that, at some point, those that knew about the lab would eventually find you, and you needed to be prepared for when they did.

When SHIELD fell, the paper trail that led to your existence was small – miniscule, even – but it was there. Sam found it, but he kept you a secret as well until you were ready for the whole world to know.

But the world wasn't waiting for you to be ready. It wasn't that patient, nor kind. Because, with everything out in the open, chaos ensued, and you were still – at the end of the day – the next generation. All those assets couldn't remain frozen forever and all those lives that were ruined by Hydra couldn't remain unaided.

So, you had to step out and – begrudgingly – announce your existence to the world. Put a huge target on your back and claim the inheritance that Pierce had unwittingly left you.

"I'm gonna go piss off alot of bad people—" You had said to Sam over the phone, right before your News Interview. "What do you think I should start with?"

He wasn't having any of it. "Did you just wait for me to leave the country so you could do something stupid?"

"Of course not, I'm not you—" You scoffed, checking your outfit again. "—I hired a hacker to fake a series of cyber-attacks. Then I asked that girl, you know – the one that could walk through walls, to freak a bunch of people out. So, you know, it could be an Avenger level threat, but not the kind that needed Captain Spandex, so they'd send you. Then I scheduled the interview for the night of the supposed attack, because I knew you'd be gone—"

"Are you kidding me, Y/N— Clint, turn this thing around now!"

"—So, I was thinking I show up on stage and say 'the law says I can take all those assets and I'm gonna use them to do the exact opposite of what my ex-bosses would've wanted'. How does that sound?"

"Do me a favour. Don't move. I wanna kill you myself."

You grinned. "I knew you'd love it."

Next Part

TAGS: @nekoannie-chan , @thorfanficwriter

#annie's1stwritingchallenge #annie's500kittieswritingchallenge #writing challenge #sam wilson #thor x reader #x reader #avengers x you #thor x you #thor fanfiction #thor fluff #steve rogers #bucky barnes #sam x reader #mcu #Avengers

34 notes · View notes

hermionegranger56 · 3 years

Text

a v late recap of evermore

so i think Taylor Swift sensed that i was Going Through It and was like here you sad bitch, here’s another surprise album to help fix all that. cause good lord evermore is just what i (and i think we all) needed. i truly TRULY can’t believe we’re lucky enough to get a sister album to folklore, i love it so much. the first day it was out i drove myself 2 hours to the very end of the Cape and sat on an empty beach and cried to it and honestly??? magical. here are my thoughts on it that no one asked for:

first, as an overall here, this album complements folklore so well. it’s the spring to folklore’s autumn, it’s self-assured and warm and beautiful. each album shows off her lyrical genius so well and she only grows stronger here. when folklore came out, i was floored because the music was so different for her and so up my alley. each song’s production sucked me in and it was like she was confidently telling us “here is another genre i can work with” (masterfully at that). evermore feels different. it feels like Taylor is so comfortable in this creative space, she isn’t trying to fit into any new molds or expectations, she is just HERE, now, saying “this is who i am and this is my craft”. it’s really been a privilege to watch her grow as an artist. ok. here we go

willow:

god the video was so beautiful, a really good continuation of cardigan. the chorus is so so delicate and prettyyy, thats MY MAN ughhh its so good. it reminds me a lot of invisible string tbh, or if betty from cardigan grew up and found love. this is really one of my favorites, she starts so strong

fave lines: “the more that you say, the less i know/ wherever you stray I follow/ i’m begging for you to take my hand/ wreck my plans, that’s my man”; “life was a willow and it bent right to your wind”

champagne problems:

oh dear god, it’s if all too well and new years day had a baby and it is a MASTERPIECE. i can picture it all, college sweethearts, broken hearts, i feel like its new england at christmas, ivy league old money…its cinematic. and it gets at the feeling like you’ll never be good enough so you leave before that happens (basically before you get to the tolerate it stage??) and OOF. AND GODDAMN THE RANTING BRIDGE (illicit affairs came close on folklore but i think THIS might be the best bridge since All Too Well). I’ve screamed it a lot tbh

fave lines: BRIDGE BABYYYYYY EVERY SINGLE PERFECT WORD. WHAT A SHAME SHES FUCKED IN THE HEADDDD

gold rush:

this one is bright and lovely and catchy!! it reminds me a lot of mirrorball tbh, all like swirly and magical. i can’t even put it into words but i can see this one so clearly. its all rosy and golden

fave lines: “eyes like sinking ships on waters/ so inviting, i almost jump in”; “what must it be like to grow up that beautiful?/with your hair falling into place like dominoes/ I see me padding across your wooden floors/ with my Eagles t-shirt hanging from your door”; “the coastal town we wandered round/ had never seen a love as pure as it”; “my mind turns your life into folklore”

’tis the damn season:

UGH I FUCKING LOVE THIS ONE EVEN THOUGH IT MAKES ME WANNA TEXT MY EX. the melody is SOOOO satisfying, the progression to “write this down”, i’m obsessed. the idea of being home for the holidays and feeling a little lost and tired and nostalgic for what could have been is something superrrr relatable. this song reminds me of snowy drives around my hometown in the best/worst possible way hahah. one of my top 5 for sure.

fave lines: “we could call it even/ you could call me babe for the weekend/ tis the damn season, write this down/i’m staying at my parents house/ and the road not taken looks real good now”; “and wonder about the only soul/ who can tell which smiles i’m faking”

tolerate it:

oh honeyyyyy this track 5 packs a punch, i mean the lyrics are absolutely BRUTAL in the best way. it’s just so sad, and encompasses a lot of my own insecurity about always feeling like you’re more invested in a relationship and watching someone fall out of love or just stop caring. i LOVE the “my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it”, like bitch YES your love should be celebrated. also taylor sounds angelic on the “I” at the start of the chorus

fave lines: “i know my love should be celebrated/ but you tolerate it”; “i made you my temple, my mural, my sky/ now i’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life”; “what would you do if I/break free and leave us in ruins/ took this dagger in me and removed it”

no body, no crime:

YESSSSSSSSS I LOVE THE SUBGENRE OF COUNTRY ABOUT WOMEN KILLING SHITTY HUSBANDS AND THIS SONG IS SO FUCKING GOOD AHHHHH!! I LOVE the beat, i love country taylor, i love the addition of HAIM. UGH ITS SO CATCHYYYY, like i’m obsessed with the slide from “i think he did it but i just. can’t. prove itttttt NOOO no body no crime” UGHHH this is without a doubt in my top five

fave lines: “she thinks i did it but she just can’t prove it”

happiness:

I heard this one described as an emotional marathon and holy shit it is, each line is a sucker punch. i really like how it feels like a conversation and looks at the acceptance and pain that mingle together when a relationship just…ends. her lyrics are unmatched on this album but this is a particularly strong track

fave lines: “i haven’t met the new me yet”; “when did all our lessons start to look like weapons/ pointed at my deepest hurt”; “there is a glorious sunrise/ dappled with the flickers of light/ from the dress i wore at midnight”

dorothea:

this one feels like Betty 2.0 and its so sweet and bright and also kinda sad. it’s wistful!! that’s the word i want, wistful! the vibe is gives off reminds me of Red, like musically. it’s home-y. idk if that makes sense but i like it a lot

fave lines: and if you’re ever tired of being known for who you know/ you know, you’ll always know me”

coney island:

ugh this one is magical, i honestly really love the instrumental to this one, it’s so soothing. the lyrics to me feel like you’re in some dream state, going through every heartbreak you’ve ever been through. I love the addition of The National, the vocals fit together so well (and I like it better than both Bon Iver features i think??)

fave lines: do you miss the rogue/ who coaxed you into paradise and left you there/ will you forgive my soul/ who you’re too wise to trust me and too old to care?”

ivy:

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH (that’s how i feel about this absolute masterpiece oh my GOD) it makes me so incandescently happy, the folk feel, the lyrics that are so cinematic and poetic and paint such a clear picture (to me) of two Victorian lovers who are in unhappy marriages but don’t let that stop their love. the chorus just like….fills my whole chest, the OH GODDAMN hits so different. and i want “my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand” tattooed on me, that is one of her BEST lines and i will die on that hill. its all so pretty, i can’t deal. the vibe also strongly reminds me of a) invisible string and b) Little Women (2019). i think taylor should do folk and uhhhh only folk please

fave lines: EVERY WORD BUT ESPECIALLY: “i’d meet you where the spirit meets the bone/ in a faith forgotten land”; “oh goddamn/ my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand/ taking mine, but its been promised to another/ oh, i can’t/ stop you putting roots in my dreamland/ my house of stone, your ivy grows/ and now I’m covered in you”; “he wants what’s only yours”; “clover blooms in the field/ springs breaks loose, time is near“; ”so yeah, it’s a fire/ its a goddamn blaze in the dark and you started it”

cowboy like me:

ALL RIGHT everyone sleeps on this song but oh my GOD its so good!! it’s smooth and dreamy and gives me that old fashioned, bonnie and clyde type love story and some of the lyrics are so poetic. I really love the addition of the Tim McGraw chords too???? BUT DEAR GOD COULD WE HAVE GIVEN MARCUS MUMFORD MORE OF A ROLE HERE??!! HE SOUNDS WONDERFUL, GIVE HIM A FEATURE, GIVE HIM A WHOLE VERSE. THIS IS A FOLK ALBUM TAYLOR, USE FUCKING MUMFORD AHHHH (i fucking love him omg)

fave lines: “dancin’ is a dangerous game”; “you’re a bandit like me/ eyes full of stars”; “now you hang from my lips/ like the Gardens of Babylon/ with your boots beneath my bed/ forever is the sweetest con”

long story short:

A BOP!! GIVE ME SOME HAPPINESS TAYLOR WOO! I really love how catchy this one is. it feels like her introducing the craziness of her life to joe and being like look all of that was tough but here i am now and I couldn’t be happier. It’s refreshing, self-deprecating and endearing. I couldn’t love it more and it is ALWAYS stuck in my head!

fave lines: “and he’s passing by/ rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky”; “long story short I survived”

marjorie:

ha hahah hah ha this one ENDS me, like dear LORD i need to call my grandma immediately. it is so so GOOD and SAD, like the you don’t know how good something or someone is until they’re gone, but even then, they’re still there with you. I love the grandma wisdom of “never be so clever you forget to be kind” etc. and holy SHIT the addition of Taylor’s grandmother’s opera singing as background vocals is GENIUS AND DEVASTATING, god the part where she goes “i’d think you were singing with me now” and then Marjorie comes in is honestly one of the most beautiful musical moments i’ve heard in a hot minute and it breaks me every time. wow.

fave lines: “never be so polite/ you forget your power/ never wield such power/ you forget to be polite”; “the autumn chill that wakes me up/ you loved the amber sky so much”; “and if i didn’t know better/ i’d think you were singing to me now”

closure:

ok i’m sorry, this is my only skip here. I really do love the lyrics and the idea of, yeah no you don’t deserve closure from me. i just can’t get past the pots and pans beginning, its too chaotic. but i’m sure it’ll grow on me! it does feel like finally moving on and i do love that about it

fave lines: “don’t treat me like/ some situation that needs to be handled”; “i know i’m just a/ wrinkle in your new life/ staying friends would/ iron it out so nice”

evermore:

god her voice is SO soothing in this one, it’s literally hypnotic. the song itself feels wandering and dark at first, like you’re stuck in this depression, and then bon iver comes in and it picks up and it feels like coming out of the trees, into the sunlight and finding your way again. finding that the pain WOULDNT be for evermore like she says. it feels like an ending and a beginning. beautiful

fave lines: “writing letters/ addressed to the fire”; “and when i was shipwrecked/ i thought of you/ in the cracks of light/ i dreamed of you”; “and i was catching my breath/ floors of the cabin creaking under my step/ and i couldn’t be sure/ i had a feeling so peculiar/ this pain wouldn’t be for evermore”

#taylor swift #evermore #tswift #evermore album #willow #champagne problems

32 notes · View notes

undertaker1827 · 4 years

Text

As promised, here is my Undertaker story to celebrate 300 followers!!! Thank you all, this means so much to me.

Anywho, I came up with this headcanon that Undertaker really likes and is very good at English country dancing. It just made sense to me, I don’t know how you guys feel about it, but this story is centred around it. Be warned, it takes place in a pub and there is mention of beer. Hope you enjoy and thank you for 300!!

Masterlist

The night was cold as you and Undertaker left the safety of your hotel room and walked into it, breath hanging mist and white in the frigid air. You were going on something of a tour of the British Isles, something you had wanted to do for a long time. The mortician was more than happy to oblige, having not gone anywhere to sightsee for a very long time. Whilst you had gone to some of the major attractions in each country, you had stuck more to the quitter, less well known places. Undertaker, acting as the guide, seemed to know all of the places you would enjoy best and so far the extended trip had been an absolute delight. You had gone all through the remotest parts of Scotland, enjoying the journeys almost as much as the places themselves and taking the scenic routes just about everywhere. The views you had found were fantastic, as were the small rural towns where some people still used horses and carriages, though only for the sake keeping the tradition alive.

You had then moved on to Northern Ireland, having arrived earlier this day and taken the compulsory, several hour long stroll around the hotel to explore your surroundings. You had eaten at a nearby restaurant and were now heading back to an inviting pub you had seen earlier on which boasted live music starting around ten at night. Of course, you were drawn to it immediately and unbeknownst to you, nostalgia was having the same effect on Undertaker, who couldn’t wait to get there.

You two made quite the pair, arriving in black trench coats with a confident stride and taking two barstools, watching excitedly as the group of musicians started organising their instruments. They were sat around a table a little way back from the bar, a roaring hearth to their side with a stag skull mounted on a plaque above it, magnificent antlers curving around and almost touching the support beams on the ceiling. You couldn’t guess the age of the pub, though you suspected it was at least 16th century, maybe even earlier. You could practically see people from those times sitting around tables similar to these and possibly even the same bar, discussing the day’s happenings over tankards.

You cheered along with everyone else when the players started, a slow folk song just to warm up. Many people knew the lyrics, some singing a line here and there. If you weren’t mistaken, you caught Undertaker doing the same thing. You sat and chatted through the first few pieces, but as soon as the music moved to a lively Irish jig, you felt the pub’s atmosphere change immediately. The thrill of the beat was almost palpable, and at the end of the first bar you were already wishing you could jump up and start dancing. As you glanced at the reaper to your left, fingertips resting over the lip of the pint sat on the bar, it didn’t go unnoticed for you that he had started tapping a boot in time to the song as soon as it began. You knew how long he had lived and had no doubt he was well travelled, so you took a chance.

“Can you dance to this?” You asked over the increasingly good-natured chaos taking over the warm space. He turned his head away from the musicians, a question in his eyes.

“’Course I can,” he answered, question turning to intrigue. You couldn’t help the grin that took over features. Jumping up, you held out a hand to him.

“Come on, then!” The reaper’s eyes sparked as he smirked, standing and taking the proffered hand.

“I’m s’posed to ask you to dance,” he commented, weaving his way between the various tables dotted randomly throughout the pub until you reached a vaguely clear space in the centre of it all, in front of the table that the musicians were occupying.

“Sure you’ll get another chance,” you chirped, spinning to stand in front of him as you bowed to each other. Some of the people sitting closer to you looked over excitedly, waiting for you to start dancing. You skipped backwards three steps in time to one another, repeating the movement going forwards and raising your arms when you met in the middle. You had well and truly acquired an audience by now, a happy feeling radiating throughout the room. A woman sitting right in front of you started clapping in time to the tune and soon the whole place was doing the same.

The players picked up the pace a bit as you reunited in the middle again, hands on top of each other and held high in the air as you skipped in a turn, unperturbed by the fact that this dance really needed at least one other couple. A cheer picked up as Undertaker swung you sideways and you extended the movement into a jump, acting as if you had been doing this together for years. You joined hands again to turn in the opposite direction, then arched your arms as if other couples were dancing through them. You each twirled to skip past this imaginary line of dancers, moving to the other end of the room to step forwards and back until you returned to your original positions.

You continued a few steps facing each other, then turned to repeat them standing back-to-back, again as if there were other people there. Your evidently wild imaginations drew delighted laughter from the onlookers, all of whom were still clapping to the music and talking boisterously over the top of it. They stopped momentarily for the part where the singer completed a short solo, accompanied only by the violinist standing next to him, who was moving so much in time to the music herself that it looked like she wanted nothing more than to doff the instrument and grab a partner for her own dance. Your steps slowed slightly to match the slightly calmer bars, the end of which was signalled when you stepped back and kicked your heels to the floorboards.

You faced each other once again, repeating some of the movements from earlier and ending in the middle again when the song finished, throwing your arms up and letting out a cheer of your own for dramatic effect. You each turned to the crowd, giving exaggerated bows as they erupted into raucous applause. The musicians started the next song and despite your panting breaths, it took a lot of effort to not skip on the way back to your table. You had barely sat down, faces flushed (yours, at least) from exertion and grins adorning your faces when the bartender called out to you.

“Next round’s on the house!” You each raised your glasses in thanks, looking back at each other after he nodded. Your foot was still tapping where it rested on the wooden chair.

“Didn’t know you could do that,” Undertaker commented, impressed by your ability. You flashed a wide grin then glanced back over your shoulder to the musician’s table, most of whom were now standing to do a little jig of their own while they played and sang.

“Would you have asked me to dance before now if you did?” Two fingertips on your chin brought your gaze back to the mortician who looked like he would dance the whole night away if you said you wanted to.

“Love, I would’ve asked the first night we went to the Fire Festival in Edinburgh.” He chuckled as your eyes widened in surprise - the first time you went together had been years ago.

“Well, by all means ask me next time someone’s playing a folk song, given that I had to ask you first-” you yelped as he unexpectedly dug his fingers into your ribs, effectively cutting you off. You dissolved into raucous laughter and he did the same, both of you leaning against each other and the bar to hold yourselves up. When he looked at you again, chartreuse eyes full of mirth, you knew he was going to hold you to it.

#black butler #undertaker #adrian crevan #kuroshitsuji #black butler x reader #adrian crevan x reader #kuroshitsuji x reader #undertaker fluff #undertaker x reader #black butler undertaker x reader #kuroshitsuji undertaker x reader

84 notes · View notes

for-a-muse-of-fire · 4 years

Text

oh, but you’re good to me

the wench and the witcher

"oh, but you’re good to me”

Fandom: The Witcher (2019)

Paring: Geralt of Rivia x Black!OFC - Zahra Auberel. Platonic!Jaskier x Zahra.

Summary: Midaëte brings the height of summer, and a reconciliation.

Warnings: Rated Mature due to brief mention of sex. Please don’t interact if you are under the age of 18.

A/N: Well, what started as a simple reader insert character grew into a fully-formed OC through the course of this series. And now we have reached the end! Well, mostly. I have some random outtakes and drabbles that I’m sure will crop up, but my (eventual) multi-chapter will feature Geralt and Zahra as they navigate some... interesting magical developments.

But, for now, I call this the end of The Wench and The Witcher. Thank you guys so much for your kind words, reblogs, likes - this is honestly the most I’ve written in years and knowing that y’all have enjoyed it warms the cockles of my heart. Title and lyrics under the cut from Hozier’s “Would That I” which I think might be my favorite Hozier song full-stop, hands down.

@coconutxraikage - @onyour-right - @ly–canthrope - @kianya-loves - @c-s-stars - @gczanetti1 - @alwaysnatz - @agniavateira - @owillofthewisps - @hina-chans-stuff - @yespolkadotkitty - @wastingmypotential - @inber

With each love I cut loose, I was never the same Watching still-living roots be consumed by the flame I was fixed on your hand of gold Layin' waste to my lovin' long ago

“Contracts from the butcher and the miller,” Lucja rattles off. “And Jaskier returned your message – says he’s very much looking forward to performing for the solstice festival.”

She gives a hum as she thumbs through the stack of papers on the desk. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you, as well,” she teases.

Lucja’s pretty round face goes pink, making her employer grin. The older woman pauses when she finds an unfamiliar piece of folded parchment among the stack of invoices. Slim brown fingers unfold the sharply folded letter and suddenly her heart is in her throat. “Lucja… where did this come from?”

“Oh… it, ah, came with Jaskier’s reply. Do you want me to get rid of it?”

Though half-tempted to let Lucja burn the letter, she bites her lip and shakes her head. “No,” she murmurs. “Thank you, Lu’ – that will be all.”

Her young barmaid flashes a sympathetic smile and closes the door behind her. The neatly looped scrawl of the letter makes something around her heart ache. She’d always been surprised by how tidy the Witcher’s handwriting was:

I don’t

This isn’t what

I’m not – fucking shit fuck

The first time I saw you, it was like walking into the light of the sun after half a lifetime in the cold. And it was so fucking cold that night.

You were like summer.

It’s cold again now, without you. I don’t know what I’m doing

Two weeks later:

I wanted want wanted to bring you to see Kaer Mohren. I know you said you like the ocean more than the mountains, but I think this place could change your mind. You would get on with Eskel like a house on fire. He’s more of a southerner, like you.

I told him about the time you tried to teach me to cook and he nearly pissed himself laughing.

Lambert’s a shit. Vesemir already likes you.

You’d like it here. The kitchen is nearly as big as the whole front room of the tavern. Library’s bigger.

Garden’s a fucking nightmare, though.

We could go to the ocean, too. Anywhere you want.

The missives don’t come with any real regularity. A few at a time, a week-long gap, but they never stop. She thinks about writing back, at first, but deciphering where the Witcher is would likely be impossible and… gods, she’s still so damned angry. The White Wolf receives no reply.

Regardless, the letters keep coming.

The thing is, I don’t know what else there is besides The Path - this life of slaying monsters and getting paid in coin. I was told that was all I needed and I believed it for a very long time. There was nothing to challenge that, not until I met you.

You were are so fucking beautiful. And warm, and bright, and vulgar, and kind, and a pain in my ass and I should have told you how much you meant to me, but I couldn’t parse it out until just now, and I am an idiot. And a coward. I thought that telling myself you were an amusement would be enough, that I would be content with warming your bed, but I can’t do that anymore. I can’t keep lying about how much I need you.

I need you, Zee. It feels like I’m missing my fucking sword arm.

The words on the page blur together. She brushes them with her fingertips, almost smiling even as the tears catch in her lashes:

I miss the way you laugh at Jaskier’s dirty songs.

I miss the way you used my legs to keep your feet warm at night.

I miss that fucking rabbit stew.

I miss the way you’d look at me when I walked in the door.

I miss the sounds you make when I’m inside of you. The way you taste.

I miss your eyes. And your smile.

Your voice. Your terrible fucking singing.

You are my home. You’re my harbor and my safe haven.

I love you. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.

---

Midaëte approaches. With it, a week’s worth of festivities, and food and drink, leading up to the day of the solstice. It means early mornings in the kitchen and late nights in the tavern. The evenings are balmy, windows and doors thrown open to allow the scent of summer air and night-blooming flowers to drift through.

For a time, she is so busy that she forgets to be heartsore. Geralt’s letters – page after yellowing page – sit tied with a gold ribbon in her desk drawer. Confessions and apologies, promises and rambling stories that she keeps picking up to read again and again. It’s a veritable book, more than he’d ever seen fit to say in person and she’s not sure whether to be infuriated or hopeful, but there’s barely time. Thank the gods.

Business booms, between trades-folk coming in for the market day, then musicians, then families. She drinks a little, dances when there is time; she lets Lucja weave tiny yellow purple flowers into her hair for Midaëte Eve and dresses in white and yellow to enjoy the evening. Or try to, at least. The main room is full almost to bursting, patrons laughing, carousing, and eventually spilling out into the courtyard to dance in the falling dusk.

Zahra watches from the doorway. A few try to tempt her into the circle for a reel and they receive a grateful smile with her refusal. Jaskier, however, will not be deterred.

“You, dear lady,” he croons. “Look too lovely to be hiding in the shadows.”

“Jas…”

“One dance. Just one – you might even have fun by mistake.”

She rolls her eyes, but the bard just grins and lifts her hand for a kiss. He leads her, hand-in-hand out to the courtyard; Jaskier gives a nod to his fellow players and they begin with a sharp beat that eases into a lovely, familiar melody.

“You know this one, ducky?” Jaskier queries with a smile. She nods and he takes the lead.

It’s a simple step, to start with. A sweet back and forth to match the sweet, flowing verse of the song. The touch of Jaskier’s hand on her low back offers guidance, keeps her moving in gentle circles around him until the real movement begins. Swinging, agile steps carry Zahra and her partner around in wide loops. The mingle with other dancers, threading hands to spin back together and then apart.

Jaskier grips her waist across the front, and she follows suit. The dizzying spin turns the world into a wash of summer colors for a moment and she can’t help but laugh. It feels good to be light again.

The bard turns her under his arm and into the hands of the next man. There’s a moment of hesitation, a moment where she considers bowing out and going back to her corner, but the tabor still thrums in her blood and it’s such a beautiful night.

Still smiling, she curtsies, and is lead back through the steps again. Her partner leads easily, light of foot and loose of tongue – from her ale, more like than not – but he’s kind, and sweet, and so funny that she’s nearly in tears when she’s suddenly spun away to her next partner. She catches the fabric of her skirts to add a flourish to the spin; the soft yellow cotton dances with her.

When spins to a stop, she sees black, at first. Matte black buttons, black tunic shirt – worn, but cleaner than it usually is. The silver wolf’s head medallion sparks in the torchlight.

Zahra looks up into the face of Geralt of Rivia and the music goes dull behind the roar of blood in her ears. It feels a bit like standing on a ledge cliff and looking down to gauge the fall. She feels dizzy, and terrified, and wonderfully breathless. Heart in her mouth, she spies Jaskier out of the corner of her eye.

The bard grins. Bastard.

“Zahra…”

The Witcher’s voice rumbles through her like soft summer thunder. Strong fingers grip hers, and he lifts her knuckles to his lips. His honey-gold eyes are more earnest and honest than she’s ever seen them – he asks the question without moving his lips. Zahra nods.

Geralt leads her in the dance and everything falls away.

She hears the music, feels it sing through her, but her focus remains on the white-haired mutant at her side. His hand spans her back, warm through her dress and stays; the lightest pressure of his fingertips, or palm, guides her to turn, or step, or pivot in time with him. It shouldn’t be surprising to her, how well he moves – she’s seen him fight, and his grace with a sword, and how would dancing be any different? He doesn’t look away from her once and the heat of his gaze flushes over her. The Witcher very nearly smiles.

Geralt turns her under his arm, guides her through the last few measures of the song. He steps away, takes his warmth with him, and bows. Zahra curtsies in return.

The crowd, the rest of the world, rushes back over them. The townsfolk whistle, and stomp, for a moment determined to swarm in and start up another country dance, and Geralt grips her hand tight for a moment. She sees him hesitate before he asks, simply, “Can we talk?”

Most of the party has spilled into the streets, leaving the tavern itself practically empty. Lucja still keeps to her spot behind the bar, green eyes going wide when she spies Zahra and her guest in tow. The girl’s pretty face splits into a knowing smile that makes Zahra’s face go hot.

It’s mostly dark in her study. The small hearth fire has gone to smoldering embers, and it gives her the opportunity to light a few candles and collect her utterly scattered thoughts. She flicks out the last taper and finally looks up at Geralt. He stands just inside the closed door, just as he used to. It’s familiar – it feels like it’s been years, or decades, or maybe just a few hours. His honey-colored gaze still holds a heat that sings over her skin. She drops her eyes to the desk.

The last letter sits there, creased and folded from how many times she’s read it. Zahra picks at the parchment. Keeping her focus on Geralt’s neat lettering seems easier than looking at the Witcher himself. “Did Jaskier put you up to this?” she teases half-heartedly.

Geralt exhales on a chuckle. “Something like. Threatened to garrote me with a lute string.”

She smiles, in spite of herself. When she lifts her head and meets his eyes, it takes a moment to catch her breath. For a few heartbeats, she simply stares. Gods, he is still so beautiful. She swallows hard and feels her throat go dry.

“Did you mean what you wrote?” she asks.

“You know I did, Zee.”

Gold eyes go guarded again. He doesn’t go totally cold, but she can see the way he builds up his walls to prepare for the worst. He steps forward. Second-guesses – stops.

“What I do – what I am – I can’t change it,” he rumbles. “I’m still a Witcher, Zahra. A mutant. I can’t… I can’t give you normal, sweetheart – ”

“Gods, Geralt - fuck normal.”

---

“Fuck normal.”

She says it with such passionate certainty that it startles a laugh out of him. The soft yellow of her skirt floats like woven sunlight around her legs. Like the sun, it almost hurts to look at her, but fuck all, that’s all he wants to do. He watches her face, watches her chew her lip; feels his slow pulse try to speed up when she steps closer. His fingers itch to curl around her waist.

“I never asked for normal, Geralt,” she whispers. The way her voice cracks pulls tight around his heart. “I don’t want normal. I want you. That’s it. Can… can you give me that, or no?”

The Witcher’s footfalls carry him to her. He studies her face; re-acquaints himself with the curve of her cheek and the dimple that presses there. She all but melts into his touch when his thumb brushes her cheek. He pulls her into the circle of his arms. She’s still soft, and warm; he closes his eyes, feels his muscles go lax with relief when she holds fast, locking her arms around his back. Geralt presses his face against the smooth curve of her shoulder.

It feels like stepping into the light of the sun after ages in cold and rain. “I love you, Zahra,” he breathes.

Her soft, tearful laugh settles warm into his heart. “I love you, Geralt.”

He gives a pleased murmur, lets the tip of his nose trail lazy circles over her shoulder. When he inhales, the warm, soft smell of her skin eases back into his lungs. From shoulder to neck, the Witcher draws in slow breaths and ghosts his lips over the exposed skin he finds until Zahra shivers. “What are you doing, Witcher?” she whispers, breathless.

“Hmm… taking your scent back,” he mumbles. “I missed this smell.”

His lips ease along the shell of her ear. She still gasps when he nips at the crux of her jaw. “I missed you, love,” he growls.

Geralt takes his time. He savors the smell and the taste of her skin, humming lowly when Zahra’s hands grip at his back. The sweetness of her begins to bloom with heat, with the richness of desire – want – and when he sets his teeth gently against her pulse point, she moans delicately. Insistent fingers tangle in his hair; she whispers his name and pulls him to her lips. She kisses him like a woman starved and it feels like his heart might thunder its way free of his chest. He lifts her onto the edge of the desk and comes to stand between her parted thighs, gathering the soft yellow cotton of her skirts up. Her fingers yank at the buttons on his trousers.

It’s a quick, desperate of coupling. Mingled breath and bitten off sighs – greedy kisses with fingers gripped in the front of his shirt. She flutters hotly around his cock with a whimper and a curse. He groans against her mouth when he comes. Zahra drinks down the noise with a grin on her lips.

Geralt stays put for more than a year. It’s good.

The Path still calls, and he still follows, but she finds she’s able to let go of the fear. It’s no longer a question of ‘if’ but ‘when’ in terms of Geralt’s return. And if he knows it’s going to be a long journey, or if the mood simply strikes him, he writes -

I miss you.

I love you.

Sometimes no more than a line, sometimes full paragraphs – even pages – but he always tells her when he plans to return. When he’ll be home.

It’s nearly spring next time he rides back in, market day in full swing as he passes through the township gate with Roach at his side. Vendors call their wares, families and merchants wander the stalls as he peers out from the shadow of his cloak. He finds the trail of Zahra’s scent past the cloying smell of cut flowers and rounds to corner to find her chatting with the butcher’s daughter.

The younger woman catches his gaze. Geralt watches the girl grin and give his woman – his woman – a nudge, nodding in his direction. Zahra is already smiling when she turns, and the Witcher has the pleasure of watching her face flash from surprise to joy in the space of a heartbeat. She moves to him, a walk that becomes a jog, and then a final sprint that launches her into his arms. He curls his free arm tight around her waist. Immediately, he has his face pressed to her hair. Zahra’s laughter rings softly in his ears when she draws back, just enough to look up into his face.

At her throat, the polished wolf’s tooth is bright against her brown skin. “Welcome home, my love,” she murmurs.

The greeting settles warm over him like the sunlight. Geralt pulls her close again, kissing her in full view of half the town. She shivers sweetly in his arms and pulls her fingers through his hair. He hears a wolf-whistle, and a smattering of applause that makes Zahra giggle against his mouth.

“People are staring,” she teases softly.

He smirks. “Let them,” he tells her before kissing her once more. She tastes of clover honey.

She smells of sunshine.

She feels like home.

#geralt of rivia #geralt x oc #geralt of rivia x ofc #geralt x ofc #the witcher #oc: zahra auberel #orignal character #the witcher netflix #fanfic #fanfiction #the wench and the witcher #tutu scribbles

94 notes · View notes

markrosewater · 3 years

Text

Answers to “In Other Words”

Song #1

__________________________________________________ (Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree)

Christmas tree roller

Leave the Merry Christmas

Then we have pumpkins

We do some songs

Rockin' around the Christmas tree

Let the Christmas spirit ring

Later we'll have some pumpkin pie

And we'll do some caroling

Song #2

__________________________________________________ (Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer)

Kuia caught deer in a big city

We will be back home in a day

There is nothing wrong with Saints

However, I really think,

Grandma got run over by a reindeer

Walking home from our house Christmas Eve

You can say there's no such thing as Santa

But as for me and grandpa we believe

Song #3

__________________________________________________ (Silent Night)

Good night!

Everything is quiet and everything is clear.

Girls and mothers and babies.

Newborns are soft and gentle,

Rest in peace

Rest in peace in heaven

Silent night, holy night!

All is calm, all is bright.

Round yon Virgin, Mother and Child.

Holy infant so tender and mild,

Sleep in heavenly peace,

Sleep in heavenly peace

Song #4

__________________________________________________ (Jingle Bells)

Heart Heart

Categories in every direction

How good a reason?

Equestrian

Jingle bells, jingle bells

Jingle all the way

Oh, what fun it is to ride

In a one horse open sleigh

Song #5

__________________________________________________ (Walking in a Winter Wonderland)

My God, you ask me

Ice is built on the fence

Hello, we are happy today

In winter, go to natural places

Sleigh bells ring, are you listening

In the lane, snow is glistening

A beautiful sight, we're happy tonight

Walking in a winter wonderland

Song #6

__________________________________________________ (All I Want for Christmas Is You)

No disinfection is required

It is something that is important

There is nothing wrong with that

Under the tree

That is all there is to it

It’s the best thing you can get!

Share your power

Well, at least I didn't go down without explaining myself first.

I don't want a lot for Christmas

There is just one thing I need

I don't care about the presents

Underneath the Christmas tree

I just want you for my own

More than you could ever know

Make my wish come true

All I want for Christmas is you

Song #7

__________________________________________________ (I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus)

There I saw Santa's mother

The snow under his chin turned to snow

Oh that video

If my father had seen his mother, he would have received Santa Claus last night

Then I saw mommy tickle Santa Claus

Underneath his beard so snowy white

Oh, what a laugh it would have been

If Daddy had only seen mommy kissing Santa Claus last night

Song #8

__________________________________________________ (Last Christmas)

Had a heart attack last year

But I left the next day.

This year, I will stop crying.

Give it to someone

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart

But the very next day you gave it away

This year, to save me from tears

I'll give it to someone special

Song #9

__________________________________________________ (Santa Baby)

Push Santa under a tree for me

She was a very, very good girl

Dear Santa, go down to the toilet early in the morning tonight

Santa baby, just slip a sable under the tree for me

Been an awful good girl

Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight

Song #10

__________________________________________________ (Step Into Christmas)

Go to Christmas

Let's meet

We can see snow and ice forever

Eat, drink and enjoy

Come with me

Go to Christmas

Free admission

Step into Christmas

Let's join together

We can watch the snow fall forever and ever

Eat, drink and be merry

Come along with me

Step into Christmas

The admission's free

Song #11

__________________________________________________ (Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer)

Red Eagle R.

My nose is clear

If you see?

It can be hard to say

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

Had a very shiny nose

And if you ever saw it

You would even say it glows

Song #12

__________________________________________________ (I’m Getting’ Nuttin’ for Christmas)

I'm going to be Christmas soon

Obsession with parents

I'm going to be Christmas soon

I'm not crazy so I'm not angry

I'm gettin' nuttin' for Christmas

Mommy and daddy are mad

I'm getting nuttin' for Christmas

'Cause I ain't been nuttin' but bad

Song #13

__________________________________________________ (Baby, It’s Cold Outside)

I can't wait (but the man is cold).

I have to go (but the baby isn't there)

I am lost

Something like this (I hold it in my hand like snow)

I really can't stay (But, baby, it's cold outside)

I've got to go away (But, baby, it's cold outside)

This evening has been (Been hoping that you'd drop in)

So very nice (I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice)

Song #14

__________________________________________________ (Deck the Halls)

Bar on board with sacred branches

Deck the halls with boughs of holly

Song #15

__________________________________________________ (I Had a Little Dreidel)

I have an elastic band

They made land

Dry when done

Then I play the string.

I have a little dreidel

I made it out of clay

And when it's dry and ready

Then, dreidel I shall play.

Song #16

__________________________________________________ (Oh Christmas Tree)

And Christmas, oh Christmas

The beauty of your articles

O Christmas tree, o Christmas tree

How lovely are thy branches

Song #17

__________________________________________________ (Hark! The Herald Angels Sing)

Boring birthday! Angelic Messenger:

"Birthday of the king's child!”

Hark! the herald angels sing:

"Glory to the newborn King!

Song #18

__________________________________________________ (Little Saint Nick)

This is especially true in the north,

Christmas story

It happens

The most popular cat is completely red

Skiing throughout the year

Well way up North where the air gets cold

There's a tale about Christmas

That you've all been told

And a real famous cat all dressed up in red

And he spends the whole year workin' out on his sled

Song #19

__________________________________________________ (Santa Claus Is Coming to Town)

This would be nice

Crying is bad

She couldn't swallow it

I will give a reason

Christmas is coming home

You better watch out

You better not cry

You better not pout

I'm telling you why

Santa Claus is coming to town

Song #20

__________________________________________________ (The Christmas Song)

Apparently he was killed

His coat was full of his nose

He left the day before Christmas

The Eskimo is a popular destination

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire

Jack Frost nipping at your nose

Yuletide carols being sung by a choir

And folks dressed up like Eskimos

Song #21

__________________________________________________ (The Chipmunk Song)

But not yet

Time for dolls, time for fun

We were fine, but we could not continue

Quick Christmas dinner fast

Christmas, Christmas time is near

Time for toys and time for cheer

We've been good, but we can't last

Hurry Christmas, hurry fast

Song #22

__________________________________________________ (It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas)

It looks like Christmas

Where are you going?

Fifth and tenth, and correct

With reeds and light silverware

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

Everywhere you go

Take a look at the five and ten, it's glistening once again

With candy canes and silver lanes that glow

Song #23

__________________________________________________ (Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!)

Unfortunately, the weather is not good.

But fire is important

I have no choice

Free the stone

Oh, the weather outside is frightful

But the fire is so delightful

And since we've no place to go

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

Song #24

__________________________________________________ (Sleigh Ride)

It's snowing outside.

Come on, this is a good time for you to ride a horse

Outside, the snow is falling, and friends are calling, "yoo-hoo!"

Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you

Song #25

__________________________________________________ (You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch)

You are a tough guy

You are overweight

You are proud of Aloe Vera

They also use stereo systems.

Cat, bad girl

And a black skirt

You're a mean one

You really are a heel

You're as cuddly as a cactus

You're as charming as an eel

Mr. Grinch, you're a bad banana

with the greasy black peel

Bonus Song (worth 5 points)

__________________________________________________ (Frosty the Snowman)

Listen to me

This is a purse

All eyes are on the egg

Frosty the snowman was a jolly happy soul

With a corncob pipe and a button nose

And two eyes made out of coal

#Mark Rosewater

13 notes · View notes

destinyesque · 3 years

Text

Might Not Make it Home

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32632597/chapters/80949649

North Imaria has been under the merciless rule of the crown for over two decades and it seems the people have finally had enough. Unrest stirs among even the tiniest towns in the frozen mountains. Main streets grow silent as the noble guard rallies. There's enough fuel for the revolutionary fire; someone just needs to light the fuse.

Vizara is a bard, and a damn good one at that. She's played at taverns all across the north, seen the fight grow in her people. Her whole life has been for this. All the sleeping around, the ale and food and coin-all of it is secondary (not that she doesn't enjoy it). She's going to rouse her people into glorious rebellion against the unjust monarchy, and she's going to win. She just doesn't know how difficult it is going to be.

___________________

A young woman in vibrant violet clothes strummed on her lute, tapping her toe in time to the beat of the lively tavern tune. She directed a wink at a bargoer close to her before leaping up onto his table. Carefully avoiding the empty plates, her purple slippers stomped down on the wood with a soft, but audible thump. She sucked in a deep breath and began to sing. The song, “The Pickpocket's Lover”, was well known here, and soon the tavern patrons were singing and clapping along with the music. The woman weaved gracefully between the tables, spinning and dancing as the tune picked up speed. The whip-quick braid in her hair followed her eagerly, drawing curves in the air behind her head when she whirled around to play for the crowd behind her. Cheeks flushed dark with exertion and sweat dripping down her brow, she drew the song to its end. At the far side of the room, she struck the final chord, took a beer from one of the waitresses, and downed half of it in one gulp. The crowd at the tavern, now some forty or fifty people, cheered. The woman raised her mug in the air triumphantly.

"Here's to th' North!" she cried, to even more applause, and then made as if to throw the mug to the ground. The waitress she'd taken the beer from quickly stilled her hand, as if she was expecting it. If she said anything to the bard, nobody could hear it for all the noise. The bard shrugged and took another swig. "'right y'all, I just gotta wet my throat a moment, then I'll be right back with ya." She fired another wink into the crowd as she made towards the kitchen, and if she kicked her lute case (already harboring quite a bit of coin) a little further towards the crowd, none of them seemed to care.

The woman slipped through the door to the kitchen, soon followed by the waitress. At the last glimpse of her violet tunic and teal beads, the crowd turned back to their food and drink. The kitchen door swung shut, and that was the last any of them saw of the bard that night.

~~~~~

Past that kitchen door, the bard nabbed a piece of fresh bread from the cook's hands, to an indignant "hey!" with no real malice behind it. She turned to the waitress with the smile of one who knows she has done something quite wrong, but who does not care. Appropriately, the waitress had a rather unimpressed expression across her face.

"Good show, eh?" The bard said through a mouthful of warm bread. The waitress huffed.

"Quite." The bard went on eating, as if oblivious to the other woman's annoyance.

"I'm thinking about addin’ a few more new songs to my repertoire." she said, "I've been writin’ some pretty songs as of late. 'Specially the ones about the coming revolution." She eyed the waitress at the last sentence with a hint of humor in her voice.

"Give me that!" The waitress ripped the hunk of bread from the bard's hands to another surprised "hey!" from the offended party. "You need to keep quiet about that revolution of yours. The only reason anyone here tolerates your ridiculous ideas is that you bring in good business. Step too far out of line, and we'll all get in more trouble than any of us can deal with."

"The crowd seemed to like me," the bard supplied. "It's strange, how the northerners seem to like the North. Can I please have my bread back?"

"Take this seriously! I know you couldn't care less about the rest of us, but if you get arrested, you won't get any work either!"

"I ain't planning on gettin' arrested, my friend. I'm only planning on gettin' the damn army outta here. And you can plan on gettin' business so long as there's any folk left here. Nobody's gonna care that I think the guard should get fucked. Hell, that's what they all think too."

"I hate you," the waitress growled, wild-eyed.

"Should'a said that 'fore you slept with me," the bard retorted, plucking her bread back from the waitress and promptly turning to walk further into the kitchen.

"Also, stop trying to smash my damned mugs!" the waitress yelled before slamming open the kitchen door open and walking back out into the tavern.

"I think you sang real well t'night, Vizara." the cook put in after a moment.

"Thank you!" Vizara, the bard, answered. "I can always count on you t' give a girl the credit she deserves."

The cook sighed deeply. "I do think you should cut back on the whole--well--the things that Melya was talkin’ about." She leaned over to inspect a simmering pot of stew in lieu of meeting the gaze of the bard.

It was a while before Vizara answered her. "I know. I don't want t' hurt y'all's business, really. I'm just damn tired of the damn monarchy and their damned games. So is everybody else. All they need is a push, and then we can get rid of the guard. Don't you wanna be free of kings? I sure as hell do.

Plus, I'm only here a handful'a times a year. I surely can't bring any real suspicion down here. Hell, Melya was just about the only waitress I recognized when I got here. Not that y'all have many other waitresses."

"Sometimes I think you talk just to hear your own voice," the cook commented. She ladled some of the stew into a bowl and handed it to Vizara. "Take one of the cloaks on the wall by the door and head outside for a bit, ‘kay? I'll talk to Melya,"

"Don't want me 'round anymore, huh?" she joked, pulling a cloak over her thin tunic and bare shoulders. "Really, you're the best, Eviah. The only one around here with any manners,"

Eviah made no reply, simply shooing the bard out the door with a roll of her eyes.

The wind outside was biting cold. It was easy to forget near the fires and warm food of the tavern, but it worked its way through the fabric of the cloak in a matter of moments. Vizara huddled on one of the stairs leading down from the back door, watching for a few moments as her breath turned to mist.

"'bit like a dragon, ain't it?" she murmured to herself. "If only I had a horde of gold to go along with it."

She drew the cloak in closer. "Warm fire'd be good too." She absently cast her gaze around the small, dark alley. There was a bit of snow on the ground, but not enough to cause any trouble to pedestrians and carts, not that the carts could fit into the alley in any case. The overhanging roofs of the tavern and another nearby shop blocked most of the light from the moon, which was probably good, since nobody would've wanted to see the sundry food waste tossed back there. Vizara could hear the quiet rustling of what she presumed was a few rats digging about in the garbage, but far be it from her to take a look. She wrapped her hands around the hot bowl to bring some feeling back into her fingers, a bit numb from both the lute and the cold.

So she sat, eating her stew as the night went on and the comforting bustle of the tavern carried on behind her. After a short while, she set the empty bowl down beside her and took the lute off her back. Soft music began to drift up amongst the scuttling of the rats as she strummed the first few notes to a love song.

“Maybe I’ll play this one next,” she whispered. She leaned back against the door and hummed along to the quiet tune.

Her fingers stilled only a moment later as she heard some odd noise out in the street, past the entrance to the alleyway. The shriek of an animal (or perhaps a child? she couldn't say) echoed off the close walls.

“The hell was that?” She got to her feet, turning her head toward the noise. Again, the same shriek. Certainly the sound of a person now.

Vizara fumbled in the waistband of her pants for a small knife, not much more than a toothpick. She dropped the cloak from her shoulders and slung her lute across her back once more.

With a deep breath, she crept out onto the street, tiny blade in hand. It was dark; few lanterns were ever out at night. The town was small, its people poor. Still, with a cursory glance, she saw the silhouettes of three or four people cast in the light of the brothel across the street. The screams hadn't stopped—they'd just gotten quieter. They'd become yelps, and then wordless protests, and now, just pained whimpering.

She could see now—as she snuck ever closer—the small body of a child held down by the much bigger guards. The blade in her hand felt insufficient, useless. She faltered, slowed almost to a stop. The guards hadn't noticed her. She was quiet and they were occupied with the protesting figure in the dirt beneath them. She could back away into the alley just as easily as she had left it, and nobody would be the wiser. The crowd awaited her back in the tavern. She was much better suited to that kind of work—the rustling up, the inspiring, not the fighting itself. But, hell, who was she if she didn’t practice what she preached? And who was getting hurt in her place if she did nothing?

The glint of silver mail in the low light caught her eye once more. The crest of the royal family glowed gold on the guards' tunics, splashed with mud and blood and violence. Another strangled cry slipped from the child's lips as he was jabbed with the butt end of a spear. She was only a few lengths away from the closest guard. A full body shiver struck Vizara's body, shaking the little knife in her hand.

She started into a run, the movement catching the attention of one of the guards. They shouted to their companions, but the warning came too late. Vizara, much shorter than the guard nearest her, jabbed her knife into his armpit, where she knew was an opening in his armor. He stumbled back with a heavy huff, and the knife was yanked from Vizara's hands. She reached for it again, her left hand up to defend herself from the other two guards. Her fingers brushed the handle, but she couldn't get a good grip on it—she'd sunk the whole blade into his arm. Plus, he and his two companions were getting his wits about him once more. He was going for his spear amongst a slew of curses. It didn't come to that. Vizara heard a monstrous Crack! and then a moment later, her left arm flared up in pain. She fully lost hold of the knife. It didn't matter anymore. Her arm—what happened to her arm? She looked up to the flash of silver as she was struck in the chest with the blunt end of a spear.

She went down with a heavy huff. Her arm throbbed and maybe she couldn’t use her fingers? And her face was in the dirt and her chest ached and she couldn’t see anything for the dark and the terror.

She looked out over her injured arm, bleary and gasping. The child—a young elf, no older than fifteen—still lay prone on the ground, one of the three guards standing above him. Vizara's vision swam as dread descended.

One of the guards kicked her over onto her back and she rolled painfully over her lute. She winced, tried to sit up, but was immediately pushed right back down, slamming her head into the dirt.

"Fuck." she sucked in a breath. "Can—can I at least move the lute? Don't want to break the lute."

The guard who'd kicked her—a woman who Vizara would find attractive in any other situation—grabbed her collar and none-too-gently yanked her into a sitting position. Another guard maneuvered the lute from her back, jostling her hurt arm and eliciting a rather embarrassing whimper from her. She gathered up her wits and forced the stars out of her eyes.

"Ah, thank you." Vizara babbled, forcing a smile. "As a good bard once said 'you can break my bones but not my banjo'."

"You fucking stabbed me!" bellowed the guard she'd stabbed, and swung the body of the lute into her head.

~~~~~~

Vizara awoke with what she at first thought was a bad hangover. She felt groggy, confused, and her head pounded—a situation she'd found herself in many a time before. She moaned in pain and closed her eyes once more, but she found no comfort in sleep, for she had neither pillow nor bed to sleep on. Instead, the surface beneath her was hard, rough, and cold.

Her eyelids were heavy, and as her conscious awareness grew, she forced them open. Bewilderment abounded for a few moments. Where the hell was she?

The room was dark and small. A barred window above her head cast a square of light on the stone floor and glinted off the edge of a tarnished metal bucket. She recognized the trappings of the room—a prison cell for sure, she’d been in more than enough to know—but it took her a few moments to recall the circumstances that had landed her here. She had been all set to perform at the bar the night before; she'd make a bit of coin, flirt with some strangers, and sleep with even more of them. Clearly, something had gone wrong. Such a waste of a good night!

She racked her brain, piecing together all that had happened after her performance: the conversation with Melya and Eviah, the cold alley, and then the sight of the guards kicking a child that had spurred her to action. A grim satisfaction came over her as she remembered stabbing one of the guards in the armpit. At least she'd done some good damage before she'd gone down. Nothing after that came back to her. She must have gotten her ass kicked pretty quick after the stabbing; the pain in her head and her arm could attest to that.

She touched her injured arm, and it didn’t hurt terribly. The ambient light described an ugly bruise. Nothing that wouldn’t heal. And her head ached, but she could deal with that. After all, it wasn’t much worse than her usual hangover. Vizara felt across her chest for any more injuries. There was a pain in her left side when she pressed down on it, but it didn't seem to be too serious. She huffed a sigh of relief and immediately winced when her chest took issue with it. All things considered, she’d gotten off pretty easy.

With a grunt, she stood up. She could make out the shape of a wooden door in the dim. There was a slit under it through which a bit of light trickled. Probably how food was delivered to the prisoners. The thought of other prisoners stuck in Vizara's mind for a second—what had happened to the child? She prayed to any god that would pay her mind that he had gotten away. Although… if there were other prisoners, maybe she could orchestrate an escape. She'd been learning to rouse the masses for years now; surely, she could incite some kind of prison riot or revolution if she had to. But where was her lute? She didn't need that to inspire crowds, but it sure helped.

"If you bastards stole my lute," she murmured to no one. "I'm gonna fuckin' lose it."

She looked around the room, but there were only stone walls and one window and a dingy chamber pot. Nothing practical to help her, and no lute in sight.

Without anything to do and no chance of getting back to sleep, Vizara spent what seemed to be an interminable amount of time pacing about the cell. She found herself shivering in the cold air, but the movement helped. If she didn't find a way to get out of here soon, she could very well be stuck in this hellhole forever. The law of the kingdom wasn't known for its charity.

The light from the small window had significantly brightened and then dimmed again by the time Vizara saw any company. She reckoned it was around sunset when there came the clamor of heavy footsteps outside her cell door. She moved to the back corner of the cell to give herself a bit of space once the guards came in; for they were coming in—the rustle of keys and the sound of voices reached her, dampened by the thick door but still clear enough. There was a soft click, and the door swung open, light from the hallway beyond cascading in. Vizara squinted at the loss of comfortable darkness.

There were three guards, dark in the doorway, just like the night before. She couldn't tell if they were all the same ones, but she vaguely recognized one of the female guards. They were dressed in the customary mail, with the sign of the monarchy across their chests. The longswords at their hip drew Vizara's eyes—she couldn't brute force her way past them, even if she had a weapon of her own.

She allowed two of the guards to approach her and none-too-gently shackle her right arm, hooking the other end of a long chain to a bar in the window. They backed away, now out of her reach, as if she posed any kind of danger to them.

"Vizara Whitecrest," the female guard started.

"Hello, yes, that's me," Vizara said, a fake smile on her lips. "It seems my reputation precedes me."

"I don't care much for pleasantries." she glowered. "I am only here to assess your account and determine an appropriate punishment."

"That's just great." Vizara sat down and put her hands in her lap. "I'm sure you know, I was rather very drunk last night, and quite out of my right mind. Now, I had no intention of attackin' anyone yesterday, but you must understand, certain things are bound to happen when one is that inebriated."

"I didn’t come here for idle chat and excuses." she said. "No proper bard drinks during her performance.”

“Now there’s your problem, sweetheart. I ain’t any kind’a proper bard.”

“You sure as hell didn’t seem drunk when you stabbed Oliver.” The woman harrumphed. “I’ve never seen a drunkard harm a trained guard, let alone one your size.”

Vizara shrugged. “’Spose I got lucky.”

“See, I don’t think you did. You knew just where to aim, and I’m damned if your aim wasn’t perfect.” She considered. “You’ve done this before.”

“I ain’t done nothin’ of the sort.” Vizara insisted, and she could only blame her pounding head when she added “Only time I’ve laid a hand on a guardsman is in bed, and he damn near begged me to hit him.”

The guard’s face screwed up in something halfway between annoyance and fury. Vizara winced, her smile falling. “I don’t mean any offense or nothin’, course! I’m just—"

Patience run out, the guard strode into her space and slammed her into the wall, cutting her off with a sharp gasp. Her left arm pinned Vizara's shoulders to the wall, her right pressing into Vizara’s wounded chest. The bard wheezed in pain, and her mask of nonchalance faded into visible distress.

“We both know you weren’t drunk, you stupid fucking half-elf.” She ground Vizara’s shoulders into the wall. “I’m not here to play games, and I don’t tolerate lies. If you’d like to keep your head, you’ll tell me everything. I want to know if you’ve attacked guardsmen before, and what I can do to make you never attack us again. I want to know about every Northerner who so much as fucking thought about going after the guard. Lie to me once more, and I will make sure you never sing again.”

"I—" Vizara pushed against the guard's adamant armor before she could think better of it. "Fucking—get off me!"

The woman moved in an instant, grasping Vizara's left hand in her armored gauntlet and pinning it against the wall. Vizara couldn’t even tell what was happening until the guard’s dagger was flashing against her throat and she was screaming into it. Her head slammed against the stone wall and she almost didn't feel it when the guard let her drop to the floor.

She took in gasping breaths as her vision returned. She clapped her hand to her neck, now pulsing with blood. Her eyes drifted to the ceiling. Her throat worked painfully, as if trying to swallow back down the lost blood.

“It’s not hard,” the woman said, "all you need to do is sit there and tell the truth.” Then, to someone else, she ordered, “go make sure the windows are boarded for the storm. I can handle her.”

She knelt in front of Vizara and grasped her chin in one metal hand. The bard moaned and tried to turn away, but to no avail. She was weak and reeling from the pain.

The guard turned Vizara's face toward her own. Vizara saw the other two guards had left them, and the door to the cell was closed. She and the guard were alone now and there was no one there to save her from her suffering.

“I’m not afraid to carve out your vocal cords and let you choke on blood until I’m kind enough to let our healer seal you shut. And right now, I’m really considering it for the insolence alone.” Her voice was quiet now. Soft. Almost saccharine sweet with the way she breathed into Vizara’s ear. “You’re lucky I’m nice. This doesn’t have to get any more difficult than you've already made it."

Even bleeding her brain dizzy, Vizara wasn't fooled. She would suffer more tortures before any of these people had finished with her. Not much of anything could save her now from that. But she was hurt. And she was alone. And she was afraid. And she wanted it to be over.

"I'm don't know anyone else," Vizara rasped, tasting copper on her tongue. "I'm on my own. The tavern—they don't pay me or anythin' like that. I'm just there to make some coin and they want more business. 's that simple. 'm not from here, either. Don't know anyone here, 'cept a few folks I'm a bit familiar to. Nobody from my hometown's seen me in months. They're innocent in all this."

All of the sudden, it was very hard to breathe. There was a roaring in her ears.

"Please, I'm beggin' you. Don't hurt them," Vizara felt pinprick tears in the corners of her eyes. "Don't hurt me, neither, please. 'm just a fool of a bard. Wanted t' fight against the kingdom, someway, somehow. And I was stupid. I can’t do anythin’ all on my own. I can hardly defend myself. I ain’t a threat to anyone, ‘specially not the guard. I promise, I didn't want nobody to get hurt, 'least, nobody I cared much about. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’a done that. I’m so sorry."

The cell and the woman before her became watery, submerged in her own tears. The guard straightened up and Vizara waited for a blow to fall upon her. She waited for a reply. Waited for something. Waiting for anything better than waiting.

Damn near an eternity passed between them in silence, and Vizara finally peeked out of the shelter of her arms. The guard was looking at her, but not. She had cocked her head to one side to listen to something outside of the room. Vizara listened as best she could between the heaving of her chest and the tiny gasps hiccupping from her throat. There was a roar, she thought, like a great waterfall or a stampede of animals. She heard it faint, but even as she listened it came closer as if to suffocate her in the noise. She futilely clapped her free hand to a sensitive half-elf ear. A sense of dread came over her, but also a desperate hope. If this loud, horrible noise was as powerful as it seemed, maybe it could tear her away from here. Maybe it could drag the guard away. Hell, she’d be glad if this thing killed her if it meant escaping the grasp of this merciless woman. A woman who was now standing in the middle of the cell, paying no more attention to Vizara.

Vizara removed her hand from her ear, wincing at the booming, cacophonous sound. She pushed herself to her feet, but as the ground trembled, she fell back upon the floor. She pressed her left ear to the ground and her hand to her right, and she tried to keep the blood from slipping through her fingers. She pulled her legs to her chest and huddled close into herself. The noise was now right on top of her. This is the end of the world, rang clear in Vizara's tangled thoughts.

There was a tremendous crash, and everything shook, and small stones fell on Vizara's prone form.

And after a time, the noise receded into the distance.

And it was deafeningly quiet.

Vizara's ears rang and everything that she was hurt. She curled ever closer as wracking cries filled her chest.

But at the very least, she was alive.

#my writing #ayy first time posting my writing here i think #maybe give it a try owo #its original fiction but i promise the main character doesn't suck #like i will maintain that this isnt my best work by a long shot but i still think its pretty good

2 notes · View notes

doomedandstoned · 3 years

Text

SOLAR SONS Show Their True Colors on ‘Chameleon’

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

By Billy Goate

Album Art by Keir Murdoch

One of the most played songs on our new compilation 'Doomed & Stoned in Scotland' (2021) is "Jormungandr" by SOLAR SONS, and when you give it a listen you'll understand immediately why. The Dundee band, formed in 2014, has a peculiar style that blends spirited progressive metal with heavy metal bombast, virtuosic guitar solos, and the occasional stylings of regional folk music, making this a solid contender for the Scottish Rock exhibit.

However you describe them, Solar Sons are anything but predictable. Formed in 2014 by Rory Lee (bass, lead vox), Danny Lee (guitar, backing vox), and Pete Garrow (drums, backing vox), the band got serious right away and built a home studio that doubles as a rehearsal space. I bet that would be a fun place to be a fly on the wall when jamming is in session.

DIY to the core, it's not surprising to find them also producing their own records, with each album being self-released. Hell, even their music videos are a personal labor of love.

Like many of us who sat in our houses shellshocked at the beginning of The Great Lockdown, fear gave way to boredom and boredom to creativity.

Solar Sons became separated, as so many other people were during the pandemic. The extra time was put to use and the band began working on new material. Passing each other song ideas and jams, this kicked off an intense period of creating the music from the new album. One song spurring on the next, until late-April/early-May 2020, nine to ten brand new tracks had taken serious formation.

Once things eased up a bit in July, Solar Sons set to work developing the lyrical and vocal parts of the songs, having quite a bit of fun learning to play the songs as a full band.

The album is called 'Chameleon' (2021), and I didn't know until I'd given it a good, thorough listen, how appropriate that title is to the album content. A chameleon is an Old World Lizard renowned for its ability to change color.The album before us is the band's fourth and showcases the diverse command of Solar Sons has over a plethora of rock and metal styles.

Each song is a concept of its own. We gallop gallantly out of the gate with "No Idle Blade," a breathlessly-paced song which references the classic Hiroshi Inagaki film Samurai Saga (1959). It's as much a sweeping love story as it is a heroic clash of swords.

Live by the code, honour to the warriors oath Morality means less to me than duty to the sword Make savage the hand and strong of the mind Must blood be spilled in the fields tonight Many before and many ahead Those who where terrified just turned and fled Swords slashing down, we race to the end

This romping NWOBHM number is an adrenaline rush, full of thematic urgency as played out by the Solar Son's expert sword 'n skins crews who are simply electric in their heroic execution of the rhythm and riffs. Pair this on a playlist, immediately following High on Fire's "Bastard Samurai."

"Timelord" is another heavy hitter, but transports us into another world -- the realm of Doctor Who, to be precise. It continues the frenetic pace of its predecessor, with skilled drum and bass work creating a kind of vortex transporting the evil timelord 'cross the constellations to wreak havoc on the good Doctor (which in my mind will always be my first childhood connection with the word "cool," the Fourth Doctor Tom Baker).

The evil timelord he has come for us all Brought back from the past to walk among us Set forth his reckoning and spread fear among us We dare not stand alone, it is nearly upon us The hour is here, the time is now

This song races to the finish with a jazzy swirl of psychedelic picking, slowly fading away. And...scene.

As the album progresses from this point forward, the rhapsodic progression through different styles becomes all the more apparent. It's hard to believe we're even listening to the same band in the funky, "Back Again" until the Solar Sons chime in unison the chant: "Visions in my mind / The pieces fall apart."

"Molten Mountain" is a wonderful prog interlude with beautiful guitar and bass tone. I refer to it in my notes as "The Continuing Adventures of Whale & Wasp" (Alice in Chains devotees will get the reference). It's worth noting that frontman Rory Lee moonlights as bassist with King Witch, another favorite band of mine from out of Scotland.

Every well-rounded album needs contrasts. Light and dark, fast and slow, exciting and chill. Enter: "Reflections," which the band characterises as a kind of contemplative ballad.

"Captive" continues in a similar mood. As it begins, it stirs up memories of the melancholic "Soma" by The Smashing Pumpkins. Don't be lulled into a depressive sleep, though, this too has the stirring fight and might of Solar Sons written inside and out (the band calls it "the anti-ballad").

With "Revenant" the band has decided to show off what it can do as a purely instrumental outfit. Lovers of progressive rock will relish in the effortless psychedelic and math-driven passages. This is why you practice your scales and runs, guitar students. So you can one day aspire to play with the effortless style, grace, and beauty of Danny Lee. I'd love to see these guys jam with my Northwest pals Zirakzigil sometime! What a blast it would be to have the two of those bands on the same bill, maybe opening for Earthless

"Test of our Times" awakens me from my daydreaming, probably because the singing is so out of character from what we've heard up to now. The band call it a "seventies rock shuffle." It's freewheeling spirit might deceive you into thinking this is a carefree song, were not the lyrics handy.

Feeling alone as the days they slowly pass Too much time on my hands I should not complain for I know it will not last And it's easy for me A prayer to the souls who are fighting for their lives And the ones who gone And those who give care you are heroes of our time And we will not forget

Starts to surround can you feel it closing in Pressure it builds now the time is near Fork in the road with a choice unclear how Can we maintain so much doubt and fear Break in the clouds see it light it by the sun Can't go so far for this all to be undone Gathering now we breach into the night Test of our times will unite us in the fight

We're at a point in the album where the Chameleon is shifting into all kinds of far out color. Next up, "The Wolf'' returns us to the savage tone that opened the album, though this is a notch sludgier than we've encountered so far. And no wonder: it's about The Wolf of Badenoch, whom Solar Sons characterise as "a nasty bastard in Scottish history and folklore." This will likely end up a favorite of many of our listeners, with the gruff chanting of pawns. will. fall. for. Badenoch. juxtaposed with exciting guitar filigree.

"Beyond the Stars" really endeared itself to me on my second listen through the album. We're told it's about alien abduction -- "the good kind." Certainly, there's something transcendent about it. I'm reminded of similar climactic epilogues in Mastodon's 'Crack The Skye' (2009), Yob's 'Clearing The Path To Ascend' (2014) and 'They Come from the Future' (2009) by Biblical Proof of UFOs. And what a sublime ending! Breathtaking.

Fans of Mastodon, Spirit Adrift, Haunt, Age of Taurus, and Zirakzigil will dig it, for damn sure. And now, one day before the release of Chameleon by Solar Sons, Doomed & Stoned is bringing you the full album stream so you can get well acquainted. If you dig it, show the band some love.

Give ear...

Solar Sons - Chameleon (2021)

Follow The Band

Get Their Music

#D&S Debuts #Solar Sons #Dundee #Scotland #UK #progressive metal #progressive rock #blues #Doomed and Stoned

4 notes · View notes

is0gild · 4 years

Text

Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 28

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 7,573

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

Turns out getting disowned is exhausting.

Oh sure, there'd been the initial rush of "I did it! I finally stood for myself to my family!" Then came the panic of "...oh dear god, what did I just do?!" Followed swiftly by the euphoria of "I'm finally free! Really and truly free!" Plus several other feelings that were all colors of the emotion rainbow, so many in fact that it became difficult to keep track of them all. They'd coursed through my body like electricity, keeping me going long enough to return to my old bedroom, hastily pack up what little I'd brought with me, march out the front door of my parent's mansion and straight into Lea's car before he'd sped off with us.

It didn't take long however. Just a few minutes on the road and poof! All that surging energy had scattered and abandoned me, like fleeing rats off a sinking ship. I slumped into the seat, suddenly feeling empty and so very, very tired. I didn't talk and Lea didn't try to make me. Instead, he just left me alone to listen to the low music coming out the radio as I stared vacantly out the car window. I suspected he was giving me a chance to process everything that'd just happened, figuring I'd speak up when I was ready. If I was ever ready.

I tried to process it all. I really did try. But it was like a thick, silent fog had descended over my mind, making thinking difficult. The lack of sleep from the night before seemed to finally be catching up with me. It was easier to just give in to the white noise of my thoughts as I watched the landscape outside blur by, my eyelids growing heavier with each passing mile. Eventually, I dozed off.

When I slowly stirred awake later, it was to the faint smell of leather mixed with a familiar cinnamony boy scent. Peeking one groggy eyelid open, I found myself still in the car seat but with Lea's jacket folded and tucked behind my head now as some sort of makeshift pillow. The car was no longer moving and the engine was off - perhaps that was what had woken me up.

"Rise n' shine, sleepyhead!" came Lea's chipper voice as I felt his hand on my shoulder, gently shaking me.

Rubbing my eyes, I glanced at where he stood next to the vehicle, one elbow propped on the top edge of my open car door as he grinned down at me. "How long was I out?" I mumbled, giving a little stretch to work out some of the kinks in my neck and back.

"Few hours," he shrugged as I noticed he was still wearing those silly heart sunglasses, only now they were perched atop his head. "You looked like you could use the Z's and I didn't wanna disturb ya, so I've just been driving in circles round Twilight Town for a while now. C'mon," he tossed his chin to one side, gesturing for me to climb out of the car.

I yawned and unbuckled my seatbelt, then felt his hand on mine as he helped me out. The sun was hanging low, making me wince and shield my eyes against it. Blinking a couple times to let my vision adjust, I then looked around and my brow furrowed as I recognized the parking lot we were in. "...the mall? Why are we here?"

"What d'ya say?" he tapped a finger lightly to my nose, his grin twitching wider. "Up for a lil adventure?"

I stared blankly at him for a few seconds. But his smile was infectious and I could feel a matching one slowly tugging at my lips. "Sure."

He retrieved his jacket, shrugging into it before slamming my door shut and locking it. Then his fingers laced through mine once more and he led me inside. I knew where he was taking me even before he turned us down the deserted wing of the mall that was under construction. It didn't take him long to pick the locked door and soon I was carefully following him up those winding, rickety old steps. As we reached the top of the clocktower and stepped onto the outer walkway, a warm breeze greeted us. I let him guide me around towards the clock face side and as we turned the corner, a tiny gasp escaped me.

By now the sun has dipped halfway below the horizon, setting the sky ablaze with orange and crimson. Soft, billowing clouds painted the heavens above while a warm, golden hue had settled like a blanket over the cityscape below. It made the buildings almost seem to glow and sparkle in the twilight as if by some sort of ancient yet whimsical magic. The sight of it all was beautiful. Overwhelming. Breathtaking.

"You're right," I murmured at last, unable to take my eyes off the view. "Sunset really does make this place sing."

"Told ya," he beamed, plonking his rear down onto the ledge and letting his feet dangle off the side. "I like to come here whenever I've had a rough day that's kicked the shit outta me. It usually helps me sort out my thoughts and feelings. Centers me. Gets me in a better headspace." He patted the spot behind him in invitation and I obliged, taking a seat next to him. Then he was reaching inside his jacket and pulling out two little red lollipops. He ripped the wrapper off of one, popping it into his mouth before offering me the other one.

I quirked an eyebrow down at it. "Not Sea Salt ice cream? Isn't that sacrilege? Won't Xion and Roxas kick you out of the club?"

He smirked around the sucker and shrugged. "I won't tell if you won't. 'Sides, I know you're not the biggest fan of Sea Salt, so figured this could just as easily do in a pinch."

"...thanks," I smiled softly, taking it from him.

"Course! Now just sit back, relax, and drink in all that majesty," he stretched a hand out wide before him to indicate said majesty before leaning back, bracing himself on his palms. "I'll be here whenever you wanna talk about it. Or not. I can also be here to just chill until you're ready for me to drive you home. Point is, I'm here for you, whatever ya need."

I didn't say anything to that at first, just gazed out once more at the amazing sight below. I inhaled slowly, as if trying to breathe it all in as I watched the thin, distant smoke plume coming off the tram while it wove its journey throughout the city. My hands were in my lap, fingers idly twisting the lollipop one way then the other then back again, leaving its plastic wrap unopened.

Since waking up in the car, I hadn't really given much thought to all that had happened today. I think part of me preferred to remain blissfully content pretending none of it had occurred. That it'd all just been a dream. I knew the second that I gave it so much as even an ounce of real thought, that it'd all suddenly become so very real. I was dreading it. But it also seemed I couldn't put it off anymore.

The memories of just a few short hours earlier were beginning to creep back into my mind unbidden, refusing to be ignored any longer. They welled up in my chest painfully until finally bursting out of me in the form of a shaky but derisive huff of a laugh. "So… guess I'm no longer a Fryse, huh?"

Lea snerked, drawing one knee up to his chest while swinging the other leg. "Somehow I doubt it's that simple."

"Grandfather seemed to think it was," I sighed heavily, setting my hand down beside me on the ledge. Apparently next to Lea's, for I could feel his thumb brushing against my pinky.

"Forget him," he razzed his tongue. An impressive feat around the lollipop. "He's just a big, whiny man-baby in a grumpy old blowhard suit throwing a fit and struggling to stay relevant. We didn't exactly hear your folks singing the same tune as him, did we?"

"...they weren't exactly disagreeing with him or leaping to my defense either," I hung my head as my eyes started to prickle. I blinked the sensation away.

"Hey now," he said gently, covering my hand with his. The warmth from his palm was soothing. "If anyone knows how hard it can be to stand up to family, it's you. Betcha it ain't easy for your pops to go against his old man's wishes. 'Sides, today was a lot, not just for you but for your folks too. Give them some time to let it all sink in. Who knows, before long they could be telling Gramps to take a hike and reaching out to you to try and patch things up."

I shook my head with a wry snort. "You don't know them like I do. Even if by some miracle they realize they had no right to be so controlling and overbearing, they're too stubborn and proud to ever admit it. No, rocks will break out into song and dance before they ever speak to me again, much less admit they were wrong."

"Wanna put munny on that?" he challenged with a grin and I just rolled my eyes. "You'll see. Just you wait. But for now, the important thing is ya did it. The hard part's over and your life is your own now to do whatever you want with it."

"Suppose that's true. It feels like a weight has been lifted," I smiled as I looked out onto the sunset once more.

My heart really was feeling lighter than it had in a long time. I was free to do whatever I wanted… now if only I knew what exactly that was. But ah well, one step at a time. For now, I'd just be happy with the fact that I had a job, some friends, and was tentatively exploring the world of theater. That was enough for me at the moment. I could figure out the rest later. I had the time now and nothing holding me back. Not anymore.

I glanced at Lea out of the corner of my eye, nose wrinkling slightly in amusement. "Can I just say though that you deserve an Oscar?"

He turned his head towards me, eyes crinkling. "Do I? What for?"

"When you got all in a huff over Grandfather trying to pay you to dump me and get lost," I hummed a low laugh, shaking my head. "I have to hand it to you, even I thought you were really mad when you came barging into the room to get me."

"Oh, I was hella pissed actually."

"...you were?" Both eyebrows shot up my forehead at his nod. "But why? It's not as if we were ever really dating. Heck, we were planning on breaking up," my fingers bounced in air quotes around the two words, "in a few weeks anyway. You could have just agreed to it, taken Grandfather's munny then did as he asked, at least as far as he ever knew. He would have been none the wiser."

Lea scratched at a spot behind his ear, lollipop stick shifting as his lips pursed to one side. "Well I… I guess it just ticked me off that the asshole woulda tried to pull something like that with his own granddaughter. That if I was someone you'd really been in love with, how he woulda just gone and broken your heart like that and expected me to help him do it." His eyes narrowed on the reddening sky, "Old coot's just lucky his brittle osteoporosis bones kept me from punching the crap outta him."

I blinked at him. Then one corner of my lips tugged up. "You're sweet, you big old softie," I told him, leaning into his side and resting my head on his shoulder.

"I, uh… shucks, El, you're gonna make me blush," he chuckled. I felt his arm come up slowly to wrap around my shoulders, squeezing them in a reassuring hug. Then he cleared his throat," So… your sister and your ex, huh?"

A grimace pinched my face. Somehow, I'd almost forgotten that part. I think I'd been trying to block it out. "...yeah."

"Ouch," he summed up eloquently.

"Tell me about it." I hesitated, staring down at the sucker as it still twirled to and fro between my finger and thumb. "They got together the day after the wedding fell through. Imagine… the centerpieces had barely been carted off by the caterers before Hans was jumping my little sister. And this whole thing?" I pointed back and forth between the two of us, "You and me? All just Anna's ploy to get Mother and Father so angry with me that they'd have nothing left when they found out about her and Hans."

"What? No, that can't be right. Anna cares about ya too much to ever do something like that to you."

I frowned. "Well… she did say she honestly thought it would help me deal with Mother and Father… that that was the main reason she pushed me into it. But she also admitted that a small part of it was for her own selfish reasons." There it was again. A tiny, aching twinge in my chest. I shook my head against his shoulder, feeling the material of his shirt rub against my cheek. "I just can't believe that she'd use me like that. That she'd go through with such a ridiculous, half-baked, harebrained scheme just to try and avoid getting into a fight with our parents."

His whole body shook with a snort. "Says the girl who just went through with a ridiculous, half-baked harebrained scheme just to try and avoid getting into a fight with her parents."

...doh.

Elsa, Queen of Putting Her Foot In Her Mouth.

"Touché," I grumbled, scowling straight ahead. "To be fair, it was still Anna's harebrained scheme. I was just the fool that went along with it."

Lea laughed, "Still, my point is ya both know how difficult your folks can be, so you can probably understand a lil where she was coming from."

A sigh. "Maybe a bit. Even so, at least I never threw her under the bus like she did me. I... don't know if I can ever forgive her for this."

"Give it time," his hand gently smoothed up and down my arm. "A day or two. Let yourself cool off. When Anna comes to talk to you - and trust me, she will - just try and listen with an open mind, 'kay? I have zero doubt you two crazy kids'll work this whole mess out. Plus ya gotta keep in mind, it's all thanks to her and Hans that you got that last kick in the rear you needed to finally stand up to your snooty family and tell 'em what's what and just straight up lay down the law. That oughta score her a point or two at least, right?"

My eyebrows knit together. "I guess… by that bit of twisted logic, yes, Anna showing up with Hans was the tipping point that made me decide enough was enough. If it weren't for her, I might have never told my parents the truth or-" my eyes widened with a sharp intake of breath. "Oh gosh, the truth! The whole mall- Everyone still thinks we're- That you and I are still- What are we supposed to tell them now?!"

I felt him shrug, heard his fingers scratching at his cheek. "...the truth?"

I groaned, "Ugh, wouldn't it be simpler just to say we broke up?"

"...yeah… maybe…" His voice grew quieter, more distant, with a note of… something else, but I wasn't quite sure what.

My lower lip tucked in in thought. Then, "You're probably relieved... what with this insanity finally being all over and done with. Now you can get your life back."

"I dunno," he hummed, resting his cheek atop my head as he gave my shoulders another small squeeze, thumb tracing a small circle against my arm. "Was just sorta getting used to it all. Gonna miss being your fake boyfriend."

A grin pulled at one side of my mouth. "...it was kind of fun, wasn't it? I think I'll miss being your fake girlfriend too. Almost makes me a little sad."

"Well buck up! Got just the thing to chase away those post-make-believe-relationship blues," he released me now, lightly rubbing my back as I pulled away. I watched as he was once more reaching inside his leather jacket, this time pulling out a-

"You've got to be kidding me," I deadpanned as he slipped the cartoon-lip sunglasses onto my face. I didn't even fight it. I knew it would have been a losing battle. "Just how many of these things did you steal?"

"Just the two," he smirked, flipping his heart-shades down to sit on the bridge of his nose. Lollipop finished, he flicked away the little white stick only to whip out yet another sucker to replace it. "Smoke 'em if you got 'em," he chirped, tearing the plastic off before stabbing the candy between his lips.

...well, when in Rome, I guess.

I opened mine as well and closed my mouth around it. Huh. Cinnamon. Who'da thunk?

"Atta girl," he chuckled, nudging my shoulder with his. "Rocking those sweet ass shades to boot."

I wanted to roll my eyes at him. But it would have been halfhearted at best and let's face it, the effect would've been totally lost behind the lip-glasses anyhow. Instead, a tiny laugh bubbled out of me whether I wanted it to or not.

So there we were. Sitting atop a mall clocktower, eating candy and watching the sunset through cheap, novelty sunglasses. And even though Operation Boyfriend But Shh Not Really had royally crashed and burned and now laid shattered in a million pieces that I still had to clean up and sort out… in that exact moment, somehow…

...somehow things didn't seem all that bad.

"Ya sure you're okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," I said for what felt like the thousandth time. At Lea's dubious squint, I laughed softly, "Really."

I mean, I thought I was.

At least, I seemed to be as we made our way back down the clocktower's decrepit wooden steps. I wasn't sure exactly how long we'd stayed up there. Long enough for early night to fall and for the first stars to begin lightly dotting the sky, however much time that had taken. It'd been nice, just sitting there watching the reds fade to purples and blues. Comforting, in fact. An almost zen-like calm had fallen over me. I didn't blame Lea for being skeptical however. This was me we were talking about here. And after the day I'd had, even I was still kind of anticipating the inevitable meltdown that would totally be on brand for me and had still yet to come. Maybe it was just lurking in the shadows, lying in wait and ready to pounce when I least expected it. Or maybe it wouldn't come at all. Maybe watching the gorgeous sunset had been just the thing I needed to disperse it before it even began.

I could hope so, at least. Here's crossing my fingers!

We got to the bottom of the stairs and rejoined the mall proper. The stores were still open but it looked like closing time would soon be upon us, so while the crowd had thinned considerably by now, there were still some shoppers milling about making their last minute purchases. Just as those double doors leading outside to the parking lot came into view, Lea suddenly stopped, tapping the side of his fist into his palm.

"Almost forgot, gotta pick something up. I'll be super quick and meet ya at the car." He was about to take off but hesitated mid-turn, looking back at me with a small frown. "...you sure you're-"

"I'm okay," I insisted, huffing out a chuckle. My hand gave his shoulder a small shove, "Hurry up and go already."

However instead of going, he grinned down at me and stepped closer, his hand lifting towards my cheek. But then it froze midway, hanging there for one very long second before he hastily snatched it back to ruffle his hair instead with a weak laugh. "Heh… be back in a flash!" Then he bolted, vanishing into the throng.

I just stood there for a few seconds, staring after him as I bit my bottom lip. Pretty sure he'd been about to kiss my forehead out of habit, but had thought better of it at the last minute. We were in a weird grey area at the moment. Officially, our little dating act had come to a close. But no one at the mall knew that yet, so… were things like that still okay? At least for a little while longer? Probably not. We wouldn't want to complicate or confuse matters. He'd probably made the right call stopping himself. The smart and sensible call. We just needed to quit cold turkey.

It would be for the best.

Still, knowing that did nothing to ease the dull ache I now felt in my chest. I couldn't help feeling a little disappointed. I kind of wished he had given me that forehead kiss. Just one last time. Gosh, it was only now hitting me how accustomed I'd grown to all his little touches. I really was going to miss being his girlfriend, even if it had all just been for show.

Curse that boy and his stupid dating embargo!

Hugging myself with a sigh, I walked slowly out the mall exit. The night air felt good on my skin as I took my time crossing the parking lot towards Lea's car. True to his word, I wasn't waiting there long at all before I spotted him emerging from the shopping center to jog towards me with a white plastic bag in hand. He opened my door first before sliding across his hood to let himself in on the driver side.

"No peeking now," he winked at me as he plopped down into his seat, handing the bag to me.

I blinked down at it as I held it between my hands. It was knotted tightly at the top, making sneaking a peek not really an option anyway. There was no logo on the bag, nothing to identify where it'd come from, nor was it see-through. The only thing I could determine was it felt box-shaped inside. Arching an eyebrow, I held it up to my ear with a little shake.

Snerking, Lea's grip closed around my wrist, forcing my hands still. "None of that either."

My eyelids drooped at him but I relented, settling the bag into my lap and buckling myself in. Lea did the same before turning the key in the ignition, backing us out of the parking spot and hitting the road.

A few minutes later found me unlocking the door to my apartment and stepping inside with a, "Hello? Anyone home?" My call was greeted with silence from the totally dark room inside. Frowning, I flicked on the switch and as everything lit up, I noticed the door to my roomies' bedroom open and black inside. Nope, not in there either.

"Huh. Wonder where they got to," Lea mused from where he stood in the doorway behind me, toting my luggage he'd so gallantly volunteered to carry up for me.

"Their car wasn't in its parking space," I pointed out as I made room for him, moving towards the dining table to set the mystery bag down on it. "Figured Riku might just be making an emergency baby cravings run for Rayne and that we'd at least find her up here still… maybe they went to a movie?" I guessed, pulling out my phone to see if I'd missed any texts from either of them. Unfortunately, that's when I discovered the battery had died. Which made sense now that I thought about it. It had been running unplugged since the crack of dawn when I'd used it to pull up every variation of the scotcheroo recipe known to humankind.

Setting my bags down next to a kitchen chair, one of his hands went to his hip while the other rubbed the back of his head. "Well damn. Was hoping they'd be around to feed ya."

"Feed me?" I echoed, a crease forming between my eyebrows as I turned to face him, leaning back against the backrest of the couch.

He snorted at me from across the dining table. "Don't think I haven't noticed how you haven't had a bite to eat all day, missy."

"Not true," I folded my arms under my chest and looked away with a tiny scoff. "I'll have you know I filled up on scotcheroo batter all morning."

"Sure, cuz that's healthy," his eyes narrowed over his grin. "You didn't have anything at the party last night either. Maybe I should order you some takeout," he muttered as he pulled out his phone and swiped to unlock his screen.

I looked up towards the ceiling with a sigh and a shake of my head. "You don't have to take care of me, you know. I said I was okay."

"You also said you don't know how to cook. I can't leave ya to fend for yourself and starve," he said distractedly, frowning down at his phone while his thumb flicked across his screen a few times. Probably scrolling through whatever food options were still open at this hour.

"I wouldn't starve, I do know how to use a microwave," I countered, hand idly reaching for my braid. Except… no braid. That's right, it was still up in that haphazard bun. A rather uncomfortable, haphazard bun, I might add. I pulled it free, letting my hair fall down around my shoulders as my fingers shook it out. Ah, so much better. "Rayne's always leaving leftovers in the fridge for me to heat up."

"Ya sure? Really, I don't mind making a quick food run for y-" he glanced up from the screen to me just as his fingers seemed to have a malfunction and dropped his phone. He gave a tiny yelp and fumbled with it for a second before catching it firmly in hand once again, breathing a soft whew!

I arched an eyebrow with a snerk. "You doing alright there?"

"Yeah, uh… yeah! These things are slippery lil bastards, huh?" he waggled the phone in the air with a feeble chuckle, his face reddening from what I guessed would be embarrassment over his little bout of clumsiness. Pocketing it again, he took a step back towards the front door as he crossed his arms, wedging his hands into his armpits. "Well if ya think you've got the food situation covered, I'll probably just be headin' out then."

I frowned, pushing myself up off the sofa backrest. "You're leaving?" I'd been under the impression that he was going to stick around at least for a little while longer. The company would have been welcome, especially with Rayne and Riku not home.

He ambled another step back, looking down as he scratched the tip of his nose. "Yup, got a lotta… homework. Yeah! Tons of it. Mountains of it back at my place just... calling my name, heh! So, ya know… better get to it!"

"Oh… yes, of course," I mumbled, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice. Obviously he had schoolwork to get back to. He'd had no time to do it all weekend thanks to me, so he was probably looking at a heavy backlog. I'd taken up too much of his time already burdening him with my problems. It was time to let him go. Taking a deep breath, I put on a brave front and forced a smile. "Have a good night. And thank you for… well, for everything. It… All of it has meant the world to me."

He hesitated for a few seconds, frowning but expression otherwise unreadable. Then he dragged his hand across his face with a tired-sounding laugh. "Don't mention it. Just… do me a favor? Get something substantial in your stomach before breaking into these," he approached the table once more, retrieving the little white bag and holding it up. "Til then, we'll just tuck them away in here so they don't melt," he said, moving towards the fridge.

Melt? Huh. Come to think of it, it had slightly been cold to the touch, but I'd hardly noticed it at the time. My head tipped to one side, "...do I get to know what they are now?"

"Guess it can't hurt to let the cat outta the bag at this point," he opened the freezer door, placing it inside before shooting me a grin. "Do the words Frozen Heart mean anything to you?"

I stiffened. "...as in the ice cream?"

"Yup!" Lea beamed now, closing the door again and propping his shoulder against it. "Whole pack of 'em! That's your fave, right?"

Blinking a couple times, I nodded slowly. I could feel it. This… weird, funny feeling in my chest. "How… When did you figure it out?"

He gave a half-shrug. "Told ya, El. Gotta gift. Knew it since day one, actually. Just kept the lil guessing game up cuz it gave me an excuse to talk to ya all the time and hopefully bring you a laugh. But figured you could use it after the day you've had. Just what the doc ordered, chocked fulla all the stuff you like - mint chocolate chip with a full strawberry in the middle, or the 'heart' at the frozen center, all coated in crunchy, crystallize sugar shell, aka the ic-"

I don't know how it happened. One second, I was just standing there with the space of the whole kitchen between him and me. The next, I'd closed the distance somehow and was colliding into his chest, forcing a small surprised oof out of him as my arms wrapped around his waist, hanging on for dear life. I felt his whole body tense with a confused, "El?"

"I'm not," I muffled into his shirt.

"...you're not…?"

"I'm not okay!" I looked up at him now, not letting go. My calm had cracked and feeling Lea's arms closing around me only served to shatter it completely. Every inch of me felt like an exposed nerve as all those emotions came crashing painfully in now. "I'm not! Nothing is right! Nothing… nothing except for you! You, with your warmth and your smiles and your ice cream and… and your silly nicknames and ridiculous sunglasses and your lizard and your sappy movies and your college course catalogues and… and…"

I didn't even know what I was trying to say anymore, so I seriously doubted Lea did either. He didn't seem to mind however, his hand with a slight tremor to it coming up to brush along my cheek, sweep a few pale strands behind my ear, slowly stroke down the full length of my hair. He just nodded and let me go on, his gaze softening as he rested his forehead against mine.

"...and everyone else is just so… so… I mean, Grandfather with his birthday party of judgement! And Mother! Mother and her sneaky lullaby, using the nose trick against me! The nose trick! That thing is sacred! But no, it was all just so she could find goth contraband for Aunt Yelena to throw in my face! And Hans! Hans, with his stupid sideburns! His stupid, sister-groping sideburns! And Anna! I still can't believe she… that she'd… I mean, I made her scotcheroos! Scotcheroos! Well, at least I tried to make them, but still, that should count for something, right?! And-" I felt his thumb wiping away something wet at the corner of my eye. Tears. I hadn't even known they were there. With a tiny jolt, I gave a weak laugh, "And I'm a total babbling mess! Sorry, I… I just need to not be thinking about this right now. Distract me, please. Anything to get my mind off of-"

And then he was kissing me.

I lost all sense of my surroundings as it all just seemed to fade away, no longer important. Every last thought in my head was obliterated. I could no longer tell left from right, heads from tails… nothing. I knew nothing except the warm caress of his lips against mine. Nothing except his scent, so familiar and yet in this moment, suddenly somehow new and intoxicating. My knees buckled but his arm wrapped around my waist, catching me and trapping me against him. His other hand had tangled itself in my hair as my fingers slid up his chest, clutching his shirt for support. I was dizzy and lightheaded and giddy all at once, my world completely turned upside down and-

Oh.

Oh wow…

...so that's what this is supposed to feel like.

All too soon Lea broke it off, drawing his head back slightly with a soft, shaky breath that I didn't so much hear as felt against my lips. He dragged his gaze from where it lingered on my mouth up to look into my eyes, his own now hooded and dark as they searched mine. Still trying to piece my scrambled brain back together, I struggled to find words and the only ones I could come up with were a breathy, "...not… quite the distraction I had in mind. I was thinking something... more along the lines of a movie?"

His eyes widened and his muscles went rigid. Then in the blink of an eye, he'd released me and backed away several steps, shaking his head as his hands raked through his crimson spikes. "Shit. Fuck! I shouldn't have done that. I had no right to- Crap, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, El! God fucking damn it, what the hell is the matter with me? I'm so stupid! I never shoulda-"

I abruptly threw myself at him again, arms hugging his neck and pulling his head down as my lips found his once more. He staggered with a sharp intake through his nose, his whole body going stock still. My heart raced as I molded against him, sinking into his pleasant body heat.

Slowly, his mouth responded as his trembling hands reached for me, trailing down my sides, exploring the curve of my waist before coming to rest on my hips, gripping them tightly as he tugged me more firmly against him. My fingers toyed with the hairs at the nape of his neck, eliciting a soft groan from him as his kiss became more fervid, filled with such… such… raw, unbridled need. Abruptly, he was pushing me up against the fridge, pinning my body between it and him.

Something fell with a clatter. A magnet? I didn't really know. Nor did I really care. But the sound was enough to snap Lea back to his senses as he pulled away with a gasp and suddenly held me at arms length. "No! This isn't right! You're vulnerable right now, I shouldn't be- Shit, I don't want you to think I-" He released a frustrated snarl, pressing a fist to his mouth as he backed further away, angrily pacing now. Then, "I should go."

He turned, hastily making his way towards the front door. Halfway there however, he hesitated, steps faltering as he glanced back towards me. He swallowed hard, something in his eyes telling me his flimsy resolve was this close to breaking. "...I need to go," he repeated, voice hoarse yet determined now as he pushed forward, reaching the door and letting himself out, slamming it shut behind him.

I was still propped up against the fridge, barely standing. The room was quiet except for my soft pants to catch my breath and the booming of my rapid pulse in my ears. My face was hot and I could still feel the sweet ghost of his lips on mine. Feel my whole body buzzing from his touch.

...he was right. Goddamn him, he was right. Now wasn't the time for this… whatever this was. I should go to bed. I should rest up and approach this with a clearer, more rational head on my shoulders tomorrow. He'd made the right choice. The responsible choice. If we'd kept carrying on like that, it would have been a mistake and…

...and so what?

So what if it was a mistake? It was my mistake to make! That I wanted to make. Besides, I didn't think it actually was a mistake, not really. It's not like this was just some spur of the moment attempt to hide from my pain within his physical comfort. This… this was something I'd be wanting for some time. And so now, what… I was just supposed to put it on pause and wait? Just because of something so insignificant as… bad timing?

To hell with that.

I'd been pretending. This whole time, I'd been pretending. And no, I didn't just mean the fake relationship to fool my parents. I'd been fooling myself. Tricking myself into believing this was just a crush when it was really… I don't even know, but it was so much more than just some simple crush! I'd been pretending my feelings were trivial, pretending that… that I couldn't see those same feelings in Lea when really I'd known. I'd known all this time, but I'd been too afraid to face them. To face him.

I was scared of everything. Always stressing and second guessing myself and overthinking things. But not this. I wasn't scared of this. Not anymore. In that moment, I'd never been more sure of anything in my life and I-

I had to stop him from leaving.

I pulled out my phone, almost dropped it but caught in time, then pressed the power button.

...nope, still dead.

Right. I tossed it onto the table as I ran past, rushing for the door. Maybe he hadn't made it to his car yet. If I hurried, I could hopefully still catch him. My hand closed around the doorknob, yanking it open and-

-jumping backwards with a tiny yelp to avoid getting crushed as Lea suddenly came falling through it, his back crashing flat against the floor at my feet. He hissed in pain, wincing up at me.

"Are you okay? What..." my brow furrowed as I looked down at him, then to my door, then back. "...were you just… leaning back against the door?"

He hopped up to his feet, laughing self-consciously as he dragged a hand along the back of his neck. "Yeah! Sorry! Just… needed a sec to, er… to get my head on straight." He inched back a step towards the hallway outside. "Right, so uh…" Another step back. "I'm gonna..." he jerked his thumb over his shoulder with a click of his tongue, "...gonna get going now."

As he began to turn away however, I grabbed his hand in both of mine. He froze, looking down at where my fingers wrapped around his. Then up at me, confusion in his eyes.

This whole time, I'd been pretending. But now…

"...I don't want to pretend anymore," I told him quietly, stepping closer and gazing up the few inches that separated us. Recalling something he'd once told me, I added, "I… wish we were real too."

Lea sucked in a low, shuddering breath, hesitating for only a heartbeat more. Then a soft, "Oh thank god," came tumbling from his lips as he grabbed my face with both hands to kiss me again, pouring his entire being into it. Kicking the door shut behind him and still locked in our embrace, he backed me further and further into the room until my legs hit the backrest of the couch and we both went toppling over it, my back hitting the cushions with him on top of me.

Abruptly, he pulled his lips off of mine, but only long enough for him to sit up on his knees so he could jerk off his jacket and throw it somewhere. Then he came back down, his hands finding mine, weaving our fingers together to either side of my head as his nose brushed against mine. His mouth stopped just short of my own however and I could taste the hint of his breath as his eyes crinkled and he smiled tenderly at me. Oh gosh, there was that dimple of his again. That dimple was straight up murder. My heart spasmed and I bit back a grin myself. Then he was kissing me.

It was soft as slow at first, as if to savor it. Then his tongue was lightly grazing along my lips and the kiss deepened. It came as no surprise that he tasted like cinnamon - I probably did too at the moment. However, the flavor was way more enticing on his tongue than it could ever hope to be just coming from some candy. His lips were growing more urgent, more demanding. Fire. It felt like I was on fire. It felt like my insides were melting to mush.

He was gently pressing his weight down into me, his hand moving to hook under my knee and tug it up, wrapping my leg around his waist. Now free, my own hand wound itself into his hair again before trailing down his neck and further, feeling the hard planes of his back through the material of his shirt, digging my nails in.

Breaking our lips apart, Lea now traced hungry kisses along my jawline and down my neck until he found my pulse point. He swirled his tongue against it, causing my body to react on its own and arch my back up into him. His body eagerly pushed back as his teeth began to nibble at the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder. A hum of a sigh escaped me and he answered with a low growl deep in his throat, suddenly biting down hard.

My neck burned deliciously and I made a noise that was somewhere between a gasp and a moan. I'd never, ever made a noise like that before in my life. I might have been embarrassed if I had had half a mind to. Instead, I was too lost in the pleasure as he sucked on the now tender skin before chuckling, slowly trailing his lips just a bit further up my neck and lightly nipping at a fresh spot.

Oh dear lord, he was going to do it again.

I barely scraped together enough sense to breathe, "Lea, wait."

His whole body tensed as he went very still, his breath heavy and hot against my throat. Then all of a sudden he was pulling away, sitting up and quickly shifting to the opposite end of the couch from me. "You're right," his voice was husky, his face flushed as he hunched forward, elbow propping on his knee as he brought his hand up in an attempt to hide his tiny, guilty scowl. "You're right. Fuck, I was moving too fast. Sorry, I… I didn't mean to-"

"No," I said quickly, scooting closer to him. "That's… not what I meant. I just… I'm not sure when they," I glanced towards my roomies' empty bedroom, "will be home. We wouldn't want them to find us out here, er..." I cleared my throat, my cheeks doing the impossible and blushing even harder than they already were. I paused, trying to compose myself and gather my scrambled thoughts, absently licking my lips as I did so. He went very still, half-lidded eyes now very intently focused on my mouth. My chest fluttered under the intensity of his gaze and I cleared my throat again, "What I'm trying to say is that… maybe we should…"

Ugh, I was too flustered to say it.

Flustered, but not nervous. Or anxious or scared or awkward or… This wasn't making me feel any of the things I normally would've expected myself to feel in this situation. No, this…

This felt right.

This is something I wanted. Really, really wanted. I could feel it, deep down in my heart. And for once, I wanted to listen to what my heart was telling me.

And right now it was telling me to kiss him.

So I did. I slowly reached a hand up, softly tracing my fingers over his jawline before clasping at the nape of his neck and gently tugging his head down so I could press my lips to his again. He inhaled, long and slow, his warm hand cupping my cheek.

He seemed reluctant to end the kiss, his mouth following mine when I finally pulled away. But then I stood up and faced him, taking his hands in mine and drawing him to his feet as well. Smiling shyly up at him, I began pulling him towards the door to my room and as if in a trance, he followed. I led him inside, the door quietly shutting behind us.

Author's Note: Sooooo... pretty sure they know they like each other now, what do ya'll think? :P Oh gosh, writing and sharing this chapter all but made me burst into flames *blushing intensifies* lol! I tell ya, for someone who starts so many fics where romance is one of the major themes, it is VERY rare that I actually get to The Big Kiss (TM) scene, so this just had me squirming the whole time xD Lea, that dear boy, he tried so hard to be the responsible one, he really did, but a guy only has so much willpower! And I know, things weren't really talked out this chapter, but don't worry, a lil discussion is on the horizon xD Also, does everyone remember something Elsa said to Lea way, waaaay back in chapter 15 during their car ride up to her old condo? Something small but SUPER relevant here... xD On a different note, we finally know it! Elsa's fave ice cream: Frozen Heart, oooOOOooOOoo fancy! THIS one is not named after a keyblade - I really wanted to of course name it after Arendelle world's keyblade in KH3, but let's face it… Crystal Snow was kinda a bland name! Frozen Heart would have been WAY better, not to mention a SUPER obvious choice for a keyblade name so I dunno why the design team didn't go with that! Anyway, its Ice Palace menu listing might look a lil something like: "Blue mint chocolate chip with silver sprinkles, coated in an icy, crystallized sugar shell on the outside and a strawberry slice that can be found buried deep within its chilly center. Will you be the one to melt this frozen heart?" …or something equally cheesy xD Anyhoo, heads up guys, if you hadn't guessed, we're now entering the homestretch of this story! Figured that'd be okay to tell ya, since if this were a paperback that you could physically hold in your hands, you'd be able to tell when there were only a few more chapters left in that case too xD But I have some good news waiting for ya'll at the end of this story's final chapter, so hopefully that gives ya something to look forward to!

Next time… oh gosh, just what does the future hold for these two crazy lovebirds? Once the sea of raging hormones has ebbed, what will be left? Are these two finally gonna get together for realsies? Or will this decision they made in the heat of the moment be seen as a mistake? And what about all of Elsa's fam drama? Did she really manage to leave it all behind or will it rear its ugly head again? Do we REALLY believe Lea when he says he only stole two of the novelty glasses? Stay tuned!

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

11 notes · View notes

that-winged-rat · 4 years

Text

Redemption

Redemption ~ Part 4

*not my gif*

Summary: Y/N manages to get Michael out of Dean’s head. But it wouldn’t be a proper solution for the Winchesters if it went to plan, now would it?

Pairing: None

Characters: Y/N Y/L/N, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Jack, AU!Michael.

Warnings: Angst, some fluff, slight language.

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Okay folks! Here is what I think may well be the final part of the Redemption Series (A.K.A the first series that I’ve ever finished and not just forgotten about! Woohoo!) But... knowing me I will probably end up doing more parts. Thank you for reading this series! Feedback is always welcomed and encouraged! Enjoy :)

Masterlist Redemption Masterlist

After sorting out Sam, Y/N went out for a walk, clearing her mind so she could come up with a plan to get Michael out of Dean’s head and – hopefully – get rid of him for good.

She could always expel him from Dean’s mind and destroy him in his raw angelic form. But there was always the risk that he would escape and posses someone who had no idea what they were agreeing to, which would still end up with the world torched.

She couldn’t kill him while he was in Dean’s head because she might as well be a human. And even if she did find a way to access her abilities that way, Dean would be in the cross-fire, and that would against the whole objective – protecting and saving Dean.

Y/N sighed and threw her head back to look at the sky, her tongue running along the inside of her lips. There was one way that it could work, it wouldn’t be easy for anyone. Especially her.

But it was a necessary risk.

Having made up her mind on the method, she now had to decide if she would tell the others on exactly what the plan was. She knew that they – mainly Castiel – would disapprove and try to talk her into finding another way. But there was no other way. And at least this way, she might get what she wanted most. And if there was that slight possibility of that, she wouldn’t let anyone get in her way, so she decided to keep it to herself and headed back to the bunker.

When she got back, she spotted Sam, Cas and Jack sitting at the map-table, halting their conversation when Y/N walked through the door. She walked down the stairs and took a seat at the table.

Sam looked at her expectantly. “So, you got a plan?” He asked, leaning forward in his seat and intertwining his fingers in front of him.

She sighed. “No. I was just gonna wing it,” she said with a straight face, shrugging while looking Sam dead in the eyes.

Cas frowned and looked around in confusion and frustration. “Y/N, what do you mean you don’t have a plan? This is Dean, you can’t just w–”

“Jesus Christ, Cas,” Y/N cut him off. “You’ve known Sam and Dean for how many years? I would’ve thought you would be able to know when someone’s being sarcastic.” He sighed and gave her a bitch-face. “Of course I have a plan.”

“Which is...” Sam trailed off, prompting Y/N to continue.

She sighed again. “I’m gonna find Michael in Dean’s head and get rid of him in there. Simple enough,” she said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms behind her head.

Jack frowned. “How are you going to do that though? Wouldn’t you just be a mental projection? That’s what happened last time,” Jack said, looking to Sam and Cas for confirmation, and they both nodded at him.

Y/N tapped the side of her nose a couple of times. “A magician never reveals their tricks,” she said, sighing when she saw that wasn’t enough of an answer for any of them. “Relax. I’ve got it covered.”

“Are you sure you’re able to do this?” Cas asked.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m sure,” she said, frustrated with how many times she’s had to answer that question. “I’m just looking forward to killing this asshole. Even if he’s not from this world.”

“Why?” Jack asked, picking up on the venom and hatred that seeped out with her words.

“Isn’t the fact that he's a bratty douche just trying to get daddy’s attention reason enough?”

“Right. Well, I’ll go get Dean,” Sam said, pushing himself up from the table and walking through to the kitchen where Dean was having a sandwich. Not long later, the two of them returned and joined Y/N, Jack and Cas, who had migrated into the library.

Dean sat in a seat and Y/N moved to stand behind him, leaning on the back of his chair. He rolled his shoulders back and clenched then unclenched his fists a few times, bracing for impact.

“Let’s do this,” Dean said, as if psyching himself up.

“Y/N, are you sure you’re up for this?” Castiel asked, mirroring Y/N’s stance on the opposite side of the table. Sam stood next to him, arms crossed, while Jack stood at the end of the table.

She just winked, traces of a smile on her face, as she placed her fingers firmly on Dean’s temples. Her eyes glowed the same red that Jack had been threatened with, but this time it seemed less scary and intimidating. Scarlet red veins crawled along Dean’s face as Sam shifted on his feet uncomfortably at the sight of his brother – Dean had his hands in tight fists and his jaw clenched through the pain.

And then it stopped.

Dean’s face went slack and his posture relaxed, as Y/N’s eyes gently fluttered shut, and the other three knew that it had worked.

---

Y/N calmly looked around, taking the absolute nothingness that surrounded her. There was no light at all, but somehow she could see Dean clear as day, as he stood a few feet in front of her.

“I feel like there should be tumbleweed,” she remarked. Dean spun around and his eyes landed on her. “And maybe some crickets.”

Dean sighed. “Okay, what’s the plan?”

“You take me to where Michael’s locked away, and I save the day. Simple as that,” she said, smiling widely at the end.

“Alright. It’s a bar,” he said. Y/N sighed and motioned her hands, asking him to continue. “Rocky’s bar.”

She clapped her hands together. “Well, thank you for your cooperation, Mr Winchester. I’ll see you on the other side.” She shrugged. “Hopefully.”

Dean frowned. “What the Hell are you–” he said, not getting to finish before he jolted awake in the library, surrounded by worried faces. He turned in his seat to look behind him for Y/N, but frowned again when he saw her unconscious body on the floor.

“Dean? W–What happened? Did it work?” Sam asked rushing round the table to meet his brother.

“I don’t–I don’t know.”

Cas’ eyebrows stitched together. “What do you mean ‘you don’t know’?” He asked.

“I mean, I told her where Michael was and she said that she’ll see me on the other side, hopefully,” Dean said, looking up to his brother and best friend. “I’m think she’s gonna try take him on herself.”

---

Y/N stalked through the deserted bar, her eyes scouring every crevice as she did.

“Oh, Mikey,” she taunted in a sing-song voice. “Where are you, pretty boy?” She took a few more steps before her eyes fell on a metal door that looked like it had been bashed on the inside. “Something tells me there,” she muttered to herself.

Y/N walked towards the door with confidence. She took out the pin that was the only thing from keeping Michael from escaping, and opened the door. Michael stood, a smirk on his face, in the middle of the once tidy supply cupboard.

“I’ve killed every cambion I’ve come across. I don’t see why you’ll be any different, filth,” Michael spat out, sauntering out of the cupboard and into the bar.

“Hey, no need to be nasty,” Y/N said, raising her hands in fake surrender. She turned around and walked over to the bar, taking a seat at the stool, and swivelled around to face Michael, who stood behind her. “Especially someone who wants to help you.”

Michael tilted his head to the side, curious. “What could you possibly help me with?”

“I have an offer for you,” Y/N said, leaning back and resting her elbows on the bar. “I become your vessel, you get out of this”– she looked at her surroundings–” place and get to go on your little tantrum.”

Michael laughed. “And give up my true vessel. Now why would I do that?”

“Think about it, Mike,” Y/N started. “Dean has people who love him, people who would do anything for him. And we both know that they wouldn’t stop until you’re either locked away for good, or dead. I have no one like that. If you take me, you would have a strong vessel and nobody to stop you.”

Michael was silent for a moment. “So, let me get this straight, you say yes to me and you’ll give me free range, to do whatever I want?” Michael asked. Y/N shrugged, a smirk on her face, which was enough of an answer for Michael. “You do realise that I’m stronger than you. You won’t be able be double cross me on your best day.”

“Why would I try to double cross you?”

Michael brushed down his jacket. “Even though I’m trapped in this rat-hole, I’m still in Dean’s head, I can still see his thoughts. And I know that you’ve helped the Winchesters before. So how do I know that it’s not the case here?”

Y/N scoffed, and jumped off the stool, sighing. “They tricked me, made my life even more miserable than it already was. Why would I wanna help them?”

“You’re offering an alliance?”

“I’m offering an alliance,” Y/N repeated.

Michael ran his tongue over his lips in thought, smiling after a moment of silence. “You got yourself a deal. Just say the word and we’ll get this show on the road.”

“Yes.”

---

Sam looked away from his book and to Y/N’s limp body, which was now sitting on one of the armchairs in the library. Looking at her, no one would suspect that she was a sarcastic woman who did everything in her power to push away people who tried to help her. She was peaceful.

Shaking the thought from his head, he turned back to the book he was reading. But his mind was too occupied with the current happenings to register any of the words. Why would Y/N chose to face Michael alone? She seemed to know how powerful he is, if she just told them then they could’ve helped. Or maybe this whole thing was a double cross.

A soft groan pulled him from his thoughts. He looked over to where Y/N was lying and saw that she was stirring, her eyes fluttering open.

“Dean! Cas!” He called out and made his way over to Y/N. She squeezed her eyes shut briefly when they opened too fast. “Hey. What happened?” Sam asked her once she was fully awake.

“Sam,” Dean said urgently as him and Cas marched into the room. Sam looked up to them. “Michael’s gone.”

Sam whipped his head to look back to Y/N, a smile made it’s way on her face that made his stomach churn. None of them knew her that well, but all of them knew that that wasn’t Y/N.

“Michael,” Sam whispered.

“Bet you didn’t see this coming,” Y/N – or rather Michael – said.

Both the Winchesters and Castiel now stood in defensive stances, ready for when things got messy. Not if, when.

“How’d you get her to say yes?” Dean asked, taking a cautious step forward.

Michael laughed. “You think this was my idea?” The three men frowned in confusion. “This was all her idea. She really–” he stopped abruptly and doubled over as if he’d been punched in the stomach. He let out a grunt but it turned into a laugh. “Oh, she’s a feisty one, isn’t she? She’s putting up a fight. Stronger than she looks. Too bad she won’t break free in time. The first thing she’s gonna see is all of your bodies, lying on the floor because of a stupid decision she made.”

“You really love the sound of your own voice, don’t you?”

Michael grimaced again and stumbled back, slamming Y/N’s fist on the table in frustration. Cas glanced over at one of the doorways, seeing Jack peek through. He caught Jack’s gaze in his and gently shook his head, telling the young Nephilim to stay put.

The archangel clenched his fist, Sam, Dean and Cas all falling to the floor, clutching their throats and gasping for air. Jack went to step forward but stopped when Cas shook his head again, this time with more warning.

Jack frowned when Michael started coughing, a mixture of blood and grace spilling out of Y/N’s mouth and flowing onto the floor. The hold he had on Sam, Dean and Cas releasing and the three of them swallowed the air like their was no tomorrow. Michael fell to the floor, clutching his chest. His grace snaked out of Y/N’s mouth until it all hovered in front of them, as a steady flow of blood trickled down her chin and out of her ears, her body falling limp against the bookshelves.

Jack stepped forward and walked over to the floating cloud of archangel grace, ignoring the voices of the three men on the floor, begging him not to risk his soul. The golden glow coming from his eyes reflected on his cheeks as he raised his hands. The mass of light blue started swirling in front of the four of them.

“You won’t hurt anyone ever again!” Jack shouted before the grace shrunk in size and turned into orange dust... then nothing, only leaving a slither which made it’s way into Jack’s mouth.

“Jack?” Dean asked, pushing himself up from the floor.

“Michael,” Jack said in a monotone voice. “He’s gone.”

Sam stepped forward. “Jack, are–are you, uh...”

Jack turned around to face the three of them. “I’m me again,” he said, his eyes flashing yellow and his wings projecting on the wall behind him.

They all turned their attention to Y/N’s form when she started spluttering up more blood. Jack crouched down to her level, reaching up to the sides of her face when Sam stopped him.

“Jack, don’t. You can’t risk burning any more of your soul.”

“But... I can help her!”

“She’ll be fine. She’ll heal by herself,” Cas reasoned.

Jack hesitated, looking at her for a moment before nodding and standing up. “Okay.”

---

Jack was sat in one of the spare rooms next to the bed that occupied it. His ears listening to the steady breathing coming from Y/N and his eyes focused on the strand of hair that had fallen across her forehead, gently brushing against her skin. He didn’t bother looking up when the door creaked open behind him.

“Jack?” It was Sam. “You alright?”

“I could’ve helped her,” he said, finally turning around to look at Sam.

“Jack... we don’t know how much of your soul burned off when you killed Michael. And we can’t take any more risks like that. You need to be careful.”

Jack sighed. “I know. I just... I hate feeling so useless. What’s the point in having these powers if I can’t even use them?”

“Yeah, I–I get it Jack. Listen, all I’m asking is that you just be more careful, okay?” Jack nodded and Sam patted his shoulder before leaving the room.

Jack turned back to look at the strand of hair on Y/N’s face. He wanted to brush it away, but he knew if she caught him, he’d be a dead man. She’d stayed asleep so far, though, so she wouldn’t wake up with that. Right?

He leaned forward and reached his arm out painfully slow, though he didn’t get to reach his target.

“Touch me and you lose the arm,” Y/N said, her voice hoarse. Jack froze like a deer in headlights, too afraid to move in case it made things worse for him. Her eyes fluttered open and landed on him instantly.

“Uh, I... Sorry. You had a piece of hair on your face... it looked annoying,” he said awkwardly. Y/N groaned as she pushed herself to sit up against the headboard, the piece of hair falling back into place. “I’ll go get Cas.”

Jack got up quickly and left the room, leaving Y/N to stare blankly at the wall, alone with her thoughts. Thoughts about her short time with Michael. How he taunted her, bringing up unwanted memories and mistakes, people she’d let down. She blinked the thoughts away when the door opened. Cas walked though, Jack not far behind.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, taking a seat in the chair Jack sat in earlier.

“I’ve been better.” She shrugged. “I’ve been worse.”

Cas looked down to his hands. “Jack, would you give us a minute?”

Jack didn’t say anything as he left the room again. Cas tilted his head to look back up to Y/N, and she could tell that a lecture was coming.

“What you did was stupid, and reckless,” he started. “You could’ve died. You nearly did die. You know that we would’ve helped, right? You don’t have to do everything on your own.”

A smirk broke out on Y/N’s face. “Careful, Cas, you’re starting to sound like you actually care.”

Castiel frowned. “Because I do care.”

Y/N scoffed and looked away. “No, you don’t. The only time we’ve met before last year, was when you tried to kill me, how many years ago? You can’t care for someone you don’t even know.”

“If you said that to me a few years ago, I would’ve agreed with you. But since then, I’ve seen life from... call it a different point of view. And I’ve learnt that everybody deserves a chance, even if they think that they don’t. That includes you, Y/N.”

Y/N stared at him for a while before speaking up. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m trying to say that you can stay here, with us. For at least a little while,” Cas said. “I know you have your reasons for staying away from people, but you can’t stay that way forever. And for people like us, forever is literally forever.”

She visibly swallowed. “Trust me when I say this, people around me – people I let myself care for – always die. Whether I lose control and they die by my hands, or there’s a pissed off whackjob after me. Either way, it never ends well. For anyone.”

Cas furrowed his eyebrows; this is the first time that he’s seen Y/N’s tough façade waver for even a second. If he hadn’t been watching her intently, he would’ve thought that he imagined the way her eyes glistened with unshed tears and her voice cracked.

He pushed the thought aside and instead, he smiled. “Join the club,” he said, then took on a serious demeanour. “Y/N, you’re gonna have to start letting people in sooner or later.”

Y/N hesitated, tapping a finger nervously on her thigh. She shook her head. “I don’t know how.”

“Then let us show you. Let us show you that you’re allowed to have good things.”

She was silent for another minute. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s good enough for me.” Cas smiled.

“Alright, I gotta go pee,” Y/N said, groaning as she stood from the bed. She stopped just before the door and turned around to face Cas, who was still smiling slightly. “Tell anyone about this and I’ll break your dick.”

She’s back, Cas thought to himself, the threat only making his smile grow wider. He turned to fully face her. “You’re secrets safe with me.”

---

Tagged: @supernaturalenchanted @vicmc624 @deanwanddamons

20 notes · View notes

avecorviidae · 3 years

Text

Fic: mainlining the spiraling spherical truth of the universe

Fandom: Fallout 4 Rating: T Relationship(s): Male Sole Survivor/Nick Valentine, Male Sole Survivor & Shaun Word Count: 5012

Ao3 Link

Toby descends into the Institute to find a son that's old enough to be his father, and despite that, still looks at him with a very careful sort of vulnerability as he walks with him through the pristine white laboratories, introduces him to his heads of staff, shows him orderly living quarters and serene recreational areas, looks at him sidelong like he's always waiting for Toby's reaction, like he wants him to be proud.

And there's a part of him that wants to pull his son close to him, and tell him, yeah, it's fantastic, this thing you've built, I'm proud of you, I love you.

But Toby knows what the Institute does. He's been smuggling synths out of here with the railroad for months, and they're fucking terrified, gun-shy and shaking, watching over their shoulders for the coursers that will surely, inevitably come to reclaim Institute property. and the way Shaun talks about the folks above ground - so dismissive, as though the towns and cities and communities and bonds, the buildings and the families and the love and the art that people on the surface have created, don't matter because it's not pure, not clean,and he just as much wants to grab Shaun by the shoulders and shake him, go, don't you know that I'm one of those people? That you ought to have been too? That it's beautiful up there? That in the face of all this awful fucking shit, I've found people that have, against all odds, refused to be anything but kind?

So Shaun says, "What do you think of my home? Of everything I've built here?"

And Toby says, "I'm sorry. This wasn't what I wanted for you. This place, it's beautiful, but it's not the world I'm from. It's not a world I can ever be a part of. And you can run your lungs dry justifying every awful thing I've ever seen the Institute do by saying it was a mistake, or for the greater good of mankind, but I'm sorry, kid, the mankind you've got down here isn't any better than the mankind I’ve got up there. I love you, and I am so fucking glad I’ve found you, but I can't support you with this. The things you do here - it's gotta change."

"Please," Shaun says, "Father, let me show you- the work we've done down here-"

And Toby just shakes his head, and says, "I've seen the work you've done. I’ve seen the people it's hurt. That's enough for me."

There is a hard, tight hug, and some tears, and Toby leaves the Institute with his son's permission and blessing, and in the seconds before Toby relays out, they look at each other with hard, tight eyes, and Shaun's got a look about him, stubborn and angry, and Toby, with a sinking sense of dread, thinks, that's my boy,'cause if he's a bullheaded little shit, then he got that from Toby and not a damn place else.

“Aw, hell,” Nick mutters, as soon as he finds it. “Guerra? Think you might wanna see this,” he calls over his shoulder to the other room of the abandoned house, where Toby and his terrifying friend had been digging through cabinets looking for unexpired food.

Eli appears in the doorway a moment before Toby does, hand already drifting to the holster at her hip. “Christ,” she says softly, as soon as she looks down, sees the baby sitting on the filthy floor at Nick’s feet, gnawing happily on its chubby fist. It’s about the fifth word he’s ever heard her say, he thinks, and definitely the one with the most feeling behind it.

“Nick?” Toby calls, as he rounds the corner, “Everything alri- Oh. Oh.”

In a moment flat he’s crouched on the floor, waving fingers at the little one’s face to catch its attention. “Hey sweetheart,” he says gently, all bright and smiling. “What are you doing alone all the way out here, huh?”

Pointless question, really. Toby knows as well as Nick does that there’s no good answers to it. Whoever the kid was with before was either dead, or ought to be dead for deciding to leave it behind.

Toby grabs it under the arms and scoops it up, tucking it snugly against his hip. It makes a hiccupping, surprised little noise, looking at Toby with wide, guileless eyes.

(He oughtn’t call the kid an it, really. Most of the humans he knows have been nice enough to do him the courtesy of a pronoun, he can at least return the favour.)

“Okay, sweetpea, it’s okay, it’s gonna be okay.” He’s talking to her in a low, sorta sing-song voice, swaying gently, and it’s right around then that Nick remembers that Toby’s got a kid. Well, it’s not as if he forgot, it’s practically the first thing the guy says to half the people they meet, I’m looking for the man who took my son. But this is the first time Nick’s looked at him and really understood what that means. ‘Cause it’s gotta be some paternal instinct, right? The way he comforts her like he’s not even thinking about what he’s doing, like it comes as easy to him as breathing.

She’s been alone long enough to be soiled, so Toby sends Eli off to look for a metal washbasin, pours some of their purified water in there, warms it over the fire for good measure. Grins when he dips her little feet in there to let her test the temperature and she starts to giggle and kick, splashing him right in the face. She seems delighted with the bath in general - Nick guesses he would be too, if he’d been waddling around in a stinking diaper for however long. (He sometimes gets - phantom memories, he supposes, of what it’s like to have a human body. Sometimes feels a strange nostalgia for the sensation of hunger, or genuine, non-battery-related exhaustion. He has never once missed the ability to excrete.)

Toby’s only got eyes for the kid, all attentive and careful as he cleans her off, and Nick finds himself making an awkward sort of eye contact with Eli, who shrugs slightly, expression as blank and unreadable as it’s ever been. She’s sat herself down cross-legged on the rug, ostensibly relaxed, but Nick’s travelled with enough mercs, knows she’s one of the smarter ones, knows how carefully she’s positioned herself, sat between Toby and the door, rifle across her lap, angled towards the open window. It had used to make Nick nervous, how careless Toby seemed, like he’d never been taught to watch his own back. Guess he gets it better now, the idea of having someone that you trust enough to watch your back for you. He feels safer these days, walking into a room full of strange humans, with Toby at his side, fending off any synth-averse sentiments with a truly aggressivedegree of cheeriness.

“Are you old enough to talk?” Toby asks, to absolutely no response from the babbling kiddo. Still, she’s clearly charmed with Toby, like just about everyone is, and she’s watching him with big, happy eyes as he chats at her. “Can you say... Toby? To-by?”

She laughs, and Toby snorts, swipes a little booger from under her nose, and Nick’s struck again by how unthinkingly he does it, like it’s just second nature to him. “Alright, maybe that’s too hard. Let’s try... Can you say aaaaahhhh?” He goes all dramatic with it, roars like a little deathclaw, and the kid laughs, delighted, and copies him, screeching with all her tiny little lungs can give.

“Awesome, sweetpea! And look at those teeth! You’ve got a whole bunch! Think you can handle some tato stew?”

She’s got no idea what he’s saying, of course, but she’s very agreeable as he lifts her out of the water and pats her dry with one of his clean shirts, dresses her as best as he can given their limited supplies.

Feeding babies is, apparently, a spectacularly messy process, but Toby seems inexplicably delighted to have half of a perfectly good meal splattered down the fronts of him and the kid.

“We’re, what, five hours from Diamond City?” Toby says, eyes not leaving the kid as he waves a spoon enticingly in front of her face, trying to coax her to open her mouth.

“Six, if we take the long way around Hangman’s Alley,” Eli says, almost making Nick jump out of his circuits. She says it real neutral-like, almost careful, makes no mention of the fact that they’d packed for a week out in the wasteland, a job for Nick’s agency, nearly halfway from here to Sanctuary, with no plans to turn back.

“Six,” Toby repeats. “Okay. We’ll catch a few hours’ sleep here, set off at dawn. Someone in the city will be able to take her in.” The kid finally takes her spoonful, only a little of it dribbling down her chin this time. There’s an odd, hard set to his face that makes Nick some weird sorta mix between nervous and sad, a kind of seriousness that doesn’t often touch Toby unless it’s something to do with Shaun, or the gal that Kellogg killed, his life before. Makes Nick almost want to rest a hand on his shoulder, say, look, she’s sweet, but you know you can’t keep her. not now, not here. she ain’t a lost mutt that you’ve found in an alley, and she can’t be what you’re looking for, not when you’re still following leads on your boy. But Toby knows that, doesn’t he? It’s why they’re heading back at dawn. Why he’s going to knock on the schoolhouse and ask around for any families that’d be able to care for a kid her age, why he’s holding her so close on his lap now, his nose and lips pressed into the dark, downy hair on her head. He knows, maybe better than any of them, what he can’t have.

Despite that - Toby does go back. Gets a message on his Pip Boy from Shaun, asking if he would like to visit, for coffee. They sit in a careful, studied sort of silence at the table, Toby sipping on the freshest fucking coffee he's had in 200 years and feeling conscious of the fact that he's probably leaving dust and various other wasteland detritus all over Shaun's bright fucking white chairs

"I just-" Shaun starts, shakes his head. “You're from before. When everything was pristine, when humanity was striving forwards. We're doing that, here, now, looking to the future. How can you support the people up there, stuck in the filth and ruins of the past?"

Toby leans back in his chair, sighs. "Forward isn't necessarily a straight line. Sure, back in the day, we had working air conditioning and fancy vending machines, but the way I was- the way I am- was illegal. It was an unkind fucking world, and all the shiny trinkets didn't do a whole lot to hide that people were paying a few hundred bucks a month for medication that they needed to live. Down here—you’ve got the science down, I won't deny it. Clean food and water, medication, synthetic life. The kind of shit we read comics about when I was a kid. But up there? Shaun, they've made art. You can't walk thirty feet in Diamond City without hearing someone playing guitar, there's murals on old billboards, I once met an old church choir made up entirely of ghouls. Here, you're taking care of the body, but Shaun, humanity needs a soul."

The kidbot - Toby can't bring himself to think of him as Shaun, despite the fact that he's got Toby's eyes and freckles and smile - steps into the room with something in his hands, freezes in the doorway when he sees Toby sat at the table.

"I was just-" he starts, looking back at the door like he's thinking of bolting.

"It's alright, don't mind me," Toby says softly, waving the kid in.

"What did you need, Shaun?" Shaun says. Fuck, that's going to get weird fast.

The kid shuffles his feet, something guilty about his face. "I was trying to make my remote control car go faster, but I think I broke it." He holds the little shiny red racecar up to Shaun and Toby for inspection. Toby's actually got a similar one back at the house in Sanctuary, blue paint fading to an off-green, some rust gathered around the wheels. He'd managed to fix up a little motor in it to make it go one night, and he and Hancock had spent half the night racing it against a rat. Good times.

Shaun peers over to inspect the car with a distant sort of interest, but Toby can see where the kid's gone wrong. He's always been good at that shit, fiddly little stuff to do with his hands. Besides, his dad taught him his way around a motor back when he lived out west and they had the truck, and he fixed garage doors for a while when he and Val were trying to get on their feet in Boston.

"Give it here?" He holds out a hand for the car, and the kid hands it over. It takes him a couple minutes of fiddling with the multi-tool he keeps in his coat pocket, but he returns the car with a perfectly functional suped-up battery, and the kid grins when he sets it down and sends it careening off out of the room and down the hall, says, "Hey, thanks!" and runs off after it.

The door slides closed behind him, and Toby finds that he's smiling softy after him, and when he turns back to Shaun, he's looking at him oddly. Do you think you would be capable- Shaun had asked, that first day, Of loving a synth? As though it were a human?

Toby knows he is, as surely and intimately as he knows every crack and tear along the seams of Nick Valentine's face, knows the whirring and clicking of machinery under the skin when he's lying with an ear to Nick's chest, the black metal of his spindly hand tapping an arrhythmic beat on Toby's shoulder.

"Don't you know what you've made, with synths? the Gen 3s, they have free will, they feel.They're feeling for the first time, it's incredible."

Shaun tuts dismissively. "They're just machines. They cannot feel. The Gen 3s have some errors which seem to cause them to behave... erratically. The defects, they are violent and dangerous, and cannot be allowed to roam free."

Toby raises a single, skeptical eyebrow. Shaun wilts, just a little, and Toby realizes that he's just given his son his first ever I’m not mad, just disappointedlook. What an exciting moment in his parenthood journey. "Yeah," he drawls, "so violent and dangerous that they desperately run away from the coursers that want to bring them back to be dissected, and go looking for help and shelter, usually blending in peacefully into human settlements in an effort to live a normal life and find a purpose. Real terrifying. Shaun, jesus, this is what I'm talking about. You've created people, and you have the chance to care for them, to guide them into being a person, and you're treating them like defective equipment! Up there, at least, they can find community. They can find home."

You’ve never personally met the General of the Minutemen.

Which, like, you get it. He’s this big important guy, right? Dragged the Minutemen out of ruin and obscurity singlehandedly, spreading goodness and justice wherever he went, and you’re just a farmhand from fuckoff nowhere. You and your folks joined up with the Minutemen because it was your best shot at protection from the local gangs of raiders and other assorted scumbags that tended to make your lives miserable, and all the righteous justice and fun uniforms and shit were just a bonus. Still, you believe in it, right? And you’re grateful. So when the radio call comes through that Garvey and the General want to retake Fort Independence, set up a big fuckoff stronghold, yeah, you want to get involved. You’re twenty-nine and pretty much the most exciting thing you’ve ever shot is a real sad looking radstag, so you’re pretty excited at the prospect of some real action.

When you roll up to the diner across the wharf from the old fort, there’s a few campfires burning all around it, sleeping rolls and tents and scattered packs, folks sitting around on upturned cars and half-rotted benches, cleaning rifles and gnawing on jerky and passing around canteens. Preston Garvey, the biggest bigshot the minutemen had before the general came along, greets you at the door of the diner with a big smile and a clap on the shoulder, tells you to make yourself comfortable, introduce yourself to your brothers in arms. apparently the general’s travelling from pretty far west, and he’d had to detour south to rendezvous with an ally of theirs, so it’d be a few days yet before they mounted the attack on the fort.

There’s folks from all over the commonwealth here, and all sorts. Salt-of-the-earth farmers like yourself, hoity-toity Diamond City types, rough mercenary-looking people, all breaking bread and listening to the radio, singing along to the same five fucking songs, and you’re right there along with them, sipping whiskey and drunkenly drawling Johnny Guitar into the shoulder of one of your comrades.

The General arrives near sunset, and if Garvey hadn’t greeted him as such, you’d never have guessed it. You’re not sure what you expected – maybe a big buff blonde guy waving the star spangled banner, maybe someone more like Preston Garvey himself, big tough freedom type – but it wasn’t the unassuming kid who pulls Garvey into a brief, warm hug, grinning wide as Garvey claps him on the shoulder. You wouldn’t put him at older than twenty-one, and he’s small, got this kinda delicate look about him, all freckles and big puppy eyes and bouncy, curly hair in a cute little ponytail at his neck. He looks soft, and you’re pretty fuckin’ sure that he’s not really the General. Like, okay, maybe he’s got the title, but it’s cause somebody’s his daddy, right? Something like that. Anyways, he’s just some ditzy, pretty kid who smiles at folks and tells them everything’s gonna be okay, and Garvey’s gotta be the real brains of the operation, the one who does all the bloody, dirty work to make it happen.

The attack is being mounted at dawn, and when y’all are gathered round for the strategy meeting, you figure Garvey will take point on explaining everything while the kid smiles and nods along. Still, he seems to have half an idea what he’s talking about as he points to things on the map of the fort, asks questions about fortifications and potential choke points, takes shit into account when Garvey or one of the other more experienced vets chimes in with an idea. It’s just weird to see, you guess. This bright-eyed, smiley kid squatted on his haunches, his pouty, round face all serious as he stares down at a war plan. Fuck’s sake, he’s still got baby fat clinging to his cheeks, he looks younger than your baby cousin.

The plan, such that it is, is not the most complicated thing you’ve ever heard. There’s a bunch of slimy monsters holed up in the fort. You and your comrades will storm the fort, and shoot the monsters. Simple enough. Some of you will be scattered around outside, taking the high ground and moving up to the turrets once the towers have been cleared, to provide ranged support and catch any little bastards who try to escape down the hillside. You’ve all got a nice little stockpile of frag mines to take care of the egg clutches. Gross. You reckon it’ll work, though.

“Gonna let y’all go to catch some sleep before we get this started tomorrow,” the General says, addressing his little crowd of soldiers as a whole. “But just wanted to say one thing, so listen up. If you find yourself shit out of luck tomorrow – if you’re cornered, run out of ammo, get too scared, too tired, too hurt to keep fighting? Run. Scram. Get the hell out of dodge. I know it’s the coward’s move, I know it doesn’t make for a good story, I know it feels like deserting. I know you probably joined the Minutemen because you believed in it, believed in what we do, and you’re willing to die an honorable death doing it – and I’ll be honored to fight and die alongside you. But in the end, that’s just a big old castle with a bunch of mirelurks crawling around in it, and that’s not worth dying for. The fort is a symbol, and in my eyes, no symbol will ever be worth more than people. I’d rather each and every one of you ran away from it screaming and lived to tell the tale, than if we managed to take the fort, but at the expense of half of you getting gutted by some overgrown crabs.”

It is the weirdest damn speech you’ve ever heard, and the weirdest part of it all is, you��re pretty damn sure he means every word of it. He’s looking around at you all like he’s trying to remember faces, nervous sort of energy to the way his fingers tap tap tap on the stained yellow paper of the map at his feet.

“Besides,” he says, smiling ruefully, and you realize that this kid’s carrying an exhaustion that’s older than the fucking war, “If y’all keep on dying, people are gonna start saying that we’re called the Minutemen on account of us managing to lose another man every minute.”

They keep irregular coffee dates. Fuck if Toby knows why Shaun keeps inviting him. Fuck if Toby knows why he keeps coming back. Maybe it's the same reason for both of them. Shaun is his son, and Toby loves him, wants to know him, even if he hates him half the fucking time.

The Railroad's suspicious of his intentions, and he has to smile his way into a restricted lab and bring them back some stolen synth research to convince them that he's still on their side, despite getting cozy with the Institute's director. Desdemona's angry that he won't commit to destroying the place from the inside out, but... he's talking to Shaun. It's philosophy and ethics, and even Toby's got to admit that the serene quiet of the Institute is a good place to do it, and Toby brings him little oddities he's found along the way, comics that survived the old word, photographs and holotapes, even shows him some of the sketches he's done of the folks he's met above.

Toby starts bringing toys for the kidbot. They're nothing near as shiny and pretty as the ones he's got down here, but he seems to still love the scuffed up Nuka-Cola van Toby had found in a ruined comics store, goes wide-eyed and amazed when Toby hands it to him.

It's a peace that wasn't meant to last, of course. Most of the Minutemen settlements at this point are informally doubling as Railroad safehouses, Dez and the rest delighted to have farms to send newly-escaped synths to, places where they're guaranteed jobs and work and purpose, and folks who will look after them and check up on them like they're family.

Preston flags him on the radio, lets him know that there's been reports of coursers at five different settlements across the Commonwealth. They're going after the escaped synths, and they're more than willing to kill any humans that get in the way.

Nick gives him a dark old look, that, "We've both seen two hundred years of the world going to shit and you and I both know this doesn't end well"look. They recall everyone to the castle, it's the most fortified place they've got, the best shot they've got at defending their people. They all arrive within a couple days, plenty of them with coursers on their tails, and Eli dispatches them with quick, clean shots, the respect that one hunter shows to another. For days, the coursers keep coming, and Toby's people are getting tired. Shaun's not responding to any of his efforts to contact him on the radio, and with grim finality, he lets Preston prepare the Minutemen and the Railroad to invade the Institute and take down the Commonwealth's boogeyman, once and for all.

It's surprisingly quick work in the end, Toby using the access Shaun gave him to relay his little army inside, and they make quick work of the synths that patrol the halls. Ss soon as alarms start blaring, all the humans in clean Institute whites panic and scram, which makes Toby's job a hell of a lot easier. Place the detonator on the central reactor, ignore the frantic ticking of his Geiger counter and the vague feeling that radiation might be making his teethbuzz.

He tells Preston to issue the evacuation order, get as many people and willing synths out as quickly as they can, and he and Nick trek up through the eerily empty halls to the director's quarters.

Shaun's in some kind of biobed, skin ashy and face gaunt, eyes half-lidded as he watches Toby step softly into the room. the kidbot's sat on the floor at the foot of the bed, curled around himself and shaking, and as soon as he sees Toby, he darts up, wraps arms tight around Toby's waist. Toby keeps a firm hand on his back, comforting as he knows how to be, in a situation like this. He meets Shaun's eyes.

I didn't want it to come to this, is what neither of them say, but both of them mean, when Toby blames him for the death and pain the Institute's wrought on the Commonwealth, when Shaun spits back that Toby is destroying his life's work. But what's done is done.

"...You'll take the boy?" Shaun asks wearily, looking at Toby's hand, still keeping the kid close to his side.

"Of course," Toby says, rough with feeling, "Yeah, of course. We're taking everybody, everyone we can get out. We'll take you, too."

Shaun shakes his head. "No. I want to rest now. I don't want to live to see the destruction of my home."

"Neither did I, but I managed, didn't I?" Toby snaps, then shakes his head. That was, well. Mean. Even for him. "You wanted progress. You wanted to move forward. You don't always get to choose the direction that goes. You don't just give upwhen you lose."

Wordlessly, Nick hefts the kid up against his hip, and Toby guides his son to a wheelchair near the bed, pushes him back down the sloping halls to the relay point, where the last party is getting ready to leave, waiting only on their General. Preston and Dez give him hard, unreadable looks when they see who he's pushing, but they've both got the good sense not to say anything, especially with Nick hovering over his shoulder and Eli quickly returning to his side.

Later, much later, they return to Sanctuary.

The kid wants to be called Callum. He read it in one of the comics Toby gave him. Toby had helped him to set up a bedroll and a lantern in the upstairs nook of Toby and Nick's home, had tucked him into bed wearing a soft shirt of Toby's that went down to his knees, hugging the bedraggled teddy bear he'd left the Institute with to his chest, and Callum had said, softly, "Night, Dad,"and Toby had smoothed a hand over his soft, perfect, synthetic hair, and said, "Night, kiddo."

At night, Sanctuary's strung up with lanterns and cooking fires, soft orange glows from inside the windows of the carcasses of old homes, flickering lamps in garages and driveways. It's more crowded than usual, on account of it being something of a celebration, the end of the Institute, and all. There's most of the Minutemen from across the state, the Railroad HQ, and the Institute evacuees, scientists, citizens, and synths all. Deacon and Hancock are arm wrestling, and they've drawn... quite the crowd. The Institute evacuees are slowly, surely mingling with the Commonwealth scum, who are meeting them with only minimal suspicion, and mostly good-natured heckling about the ugly white clothes. Someone's playing Johnny Guitar, obviously, and the soft strumming mixes with the gentle, constant murmur of a hundred or more voices laughing and talking and singing.

Toby finds Shaun on the outskirts of the celebration, his wheelchair parked in the dim driveway of the house that he was supposed to grow up in. Toby wonders, vaguely, if that's a coincidence. He's avoided this house, since he woke up. Maybe he's more like Shaun than he's wanted to admit. He's wanted to move forward.

Toby sits beside him on the concrete, follows Shaun's gaze to further down the block, where Preston's got an arm around Desdemona's shoulder, making some kind of triumphant speech, most likely.

"So," Toby says eventually, with a strange sort of serenity. He's got a thin layer of dust and sweat on every inch of his skin, and his fingers probably smell like battery acid from the plasma cell ammo, and his lip is still tingling from the little shock he'd gotten when he kissed the open circuitry on Nick's cheek. He's aching and stinking and exhausted, and he's never been happier. "What do you think of my home? Of everything I’ve built here?"

Shaun sighs softly, and after a long moment between them, says, "I don't know this world. but I suppose I'll have to take after you, and learn to adapt."

He stands, puts a hand on Shaun's shoulder, squeezes. "That's all I can ask for."

#/#//#///#////#/////#robin fic #fallout fic

2 notes · View notes

matpisound · 3 years

Text

matpi’s 2020 top ten

With this crazy year finally being thrown to the wolves, I thought I’d share some of my favorite songs. Usually I rank songs based on my mood, but I thought long and hard about this list to make it as accurate to my tastes as possible. In addition to the musical elements, I’ve also considered my personal experience with each song. With that said, get ready for a list that defines the phrase, “all over the place.”

10. ”約束” - Roselia

Translating to “Promise,” this Roselia song rounds out the list with its dynamic highs and lows and metric complexities. Combine that with Roselia’s signature sound and you have yourself a straight up banger. There are a lot of feel changes, with sections of 3 against 4 polymeter, steady rock groves, and a double time chorus, and this keeps the song interesting and super fun to listen to. Not to mention the powerful lead vocals, courtesy of Yukina Minato, played by the insanely talented Aina Aiba, as well as the occasional trading of vocal lines with bassist Lisa Imai, voiced by Yuki Nakashima, allow the song to really shine.

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YQS0LZfXRCs&list=OLAK5uy_l6KyKKWX1j8vHY-PjK6yJHkIZpOV0WMrE

9. “Avant-garde HISTORY” - Roselia

Going up the list now we have another Roselia song. This song is marked by its progressive rock influence in the intro, with a lack of adherence to a single key or time signature, all while remaining an epic intro to the majestic 6/8 rock ballad that follows. Combining rock with orchestral elements is a recipe for greatness, and Roselia really pulled through here. The lead vocals are supported by a chorus of the other members in a really significant way in this song, contributing even more to the sheer glory that it exudes. Add in some huge drum fills and epic buildups between sections, and it creates this absolute work of art.

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nakW_Ziciik&list=OLAK5uy_lImYujueVzq7DDMrRc2TX8qnp1ZzMlHKM&index=6

8. “Ride” - Samuel R. Hazo

No, this is not the twenty one pilots song, nor is it a cover. It’s a wind ensemble piece chock full of the good stuff. Spicy harmonies, giant fanfares, fast runs, solos, time signature changes, heavy yet tasteful use of percussion, what’s not to love? I really wanna play this in band one day, because aside from being fun to listen to, it’s a real challenge to play, especially with a large ensemble. Wind ensemble pieces in general are really cool because they are light-years ahead of most modern music in terms of dynamic contrast, and "Ride” has a ton of it.

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=au4geHy_S_0

7. “Amaryllis” - Shinedown

I honestly don’t know how to describe why I like this song so much; I just do. It’s a really nice song. The amaryllis as a flower is extremely beautiful, sporting vivid reds and pinks in its petals, and that imagery really shone through with its lyrics and 6/8 ballad feel. I’d like to mention the key signature as well. The key of D♭ just feels like a beautiful key signature, and here that beauty was thoroughly reflected.

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ixltBz9IENw

6. “FIRE BIRD” - Roselia

Back again with another Roselia song. First of all, this song is great because of the story of the Phoenix. I always thought an immortal bird of fire rising from the ashes was such a glorious thing, and this song captures the essence of this tale perfectly. A quiet start with just piano and vocals gives way to a ginormous sounding intro as all the band members sing as a choir, which then leads into a crazy double-time groove which persists throughout the song. Combine that with Roselia’s sound and you get a triumphant anthem that’s sure to energize anyone and anything.

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I_F7l7n_oP8&list=OLAK5uy_lImYujueVzq7DDMrRc2TX8qnp1ZzMlHKM&index=4

and here’s a live version because the visuals are IMMACULATE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5AwP7S9f3A8

5. “Guilty All The Same” - Linkin Park

Off of one of the greatest rock albums in my opinion, “Guilty All The Same” is nothing short of a masterpiece. A nearly 6-minute song, and it’s never boring for a second. The unique drum grooves and use of 3 against 4 polymeter are what make this song so damn interesting to listen to, and lead singer, Chester Bennington’s, vocals are nothing short of spectacular. Rakim’s verse in the bridge combined with the sick guitar riff and the drums backing them up makes it one of the best combinations of rock and rap that I’ve heard.

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cEaEdLQbAFM

4. “LOUDER” - Roselia

This being one of the first Roselia songs I’ve listened to, it has a really special place in my heart. But musically, it’s super awesome too. At a blistering 195 BPM, it’s one of the fastest songs on here, meaning it’s also super fun to play on the drums. It also changes keys between the verses and choruses from D minor to D major and back. And of course, who could forget lead vocalist Yukina Minato guiding the song through her soaring melodic lines. All in all, it’s a great song that managed to top my Spotify Wrapped.

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wYSXZQ2b1-c

Now before we get into our top 3, let’s look at some honorable mentions:

“A DECLARATION OF ×××” - RAISE A SUILEN: A song inciting revolution, this combination of rock and EDM is a straight up vibe. We also get some djent as a bonus! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=713nCe8LLa0

“DIVE!” - Setsuna Yuki: Rock music in the world of anime idols is a foreign concept, and to me it’s a welcome one. It seems, however, that others disagree... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HXXxW8hEF3o

“Neo-Aspect” - Roselia: I swear this is the last Roselia song, but it was way too good not to include here. A powerful song filled to the brim with expression. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=snp_DT9EqiQ

“カレンデュラ“ - RONDO: “Calendula” for those who can’t read Japanese, this heavy song carries a lot of weight in it’s lyrics as well. Overall a really epic song. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZRnaYwx2fH4

“Daybreaker” - Waterflame: Made fairly recently by a producer who made music that was a huge part of my childhood, this song just vibes so fucking hard. Fun fact: it was released on my birthday! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uLomCDE7E50

3. “Transcendent Journey” - Rossano Galante

Now we’re talking about the true bangers of my music taste. I love Galante’s music because it’s always so dynamic always with super melodious lead parts. This piece is no different in that sense. It really feels like a journey. Fast woodwind runs supporting soaring brass lines, quiet woodwind melodies, blazing fanfares, and varied tempo make this piece of music really feel like a spiritual journey. There’s so much about this piece that I just can’t put into words so you just have to listen for yourself.

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZuMi2z2F3io

2. “Nostalgia” - Rossano Galante

Another wind ensemble piece making the top 3? Well, aside from being a beautiful piece musically, it brings a lot of good memories for me personally as well. We played this for my band’s spring concert when I was in 8th grade. As 8th graders, our ensemble included the high school band students as well, and that was the year one of my favorite seniors was graduating. He was such a big role model for me, and the entire concert was extremely emotional. This was my favorite piece we had programmed that night, and it’s made its way into my favorite songs of all time.

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_qaq_WKsatg

1. “The Catalyst” - Linkin Park

This was one of those songs. You know those songs that you fall in love with as soon as you hear it for the first time? Yeah, this was that. With every listen, I only liked it more and more, and it crawled its way to the top. It starts off soft, but it just keeps building. Everything builds and builds and becomes increasingly chaotic until it all collapses in the second half of the song. From there, the repeated lyrics “Lift me up, let me go” carry this song to its epic finale, in which we feel the culmination of all that chaos from earlier. Not only does the song work so well as a standalone track, its use as the penultimate track on “A Thousand Suns” (my favorite album of all time) serves as the final climax before resolving the intricate story weaved by the album. This is a perfect song if I have ever heard one.

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3sBjZBn3DQU

Well, folks, there you have it. A playlist of the best songs that got me through this forsaken year and will hopefully empower the next. I wish you all a better and happy 2021, and I’ll catch you at the double barline!

#music nerd #music #top 10 #top ten #music analysis

3 notes · View notes