#SPOTIFY YOU'VE BETRAYED ME FOR THE LAST TIME.

[caracello]

I'VE BEEN BEING DEPRIVED OF TWO WHOLE ROYAL BLOOD SONGS AND I NEVER EVEN KNEW??!?!!!!

[wizardofgoodfortune]

27 for Spotify fic thing!

a bit of comfy dreamling. and i fully believe that this would've been better if i had finished reading the entirety of the comics. alas... we can have a bit of silliness for now! but thank you for the ask!! 💓 i hope you are having fun with the ask game.

--

When you've lived for such a long period of time unimaginable to the common living being, asking for help is something short of unthinkable. He is Endless, after all. Lord of Dreams and Ruler of Nightmares. The Dreaming itself.

At least, that's what Dream thinks.

Death said he was foolish for not asking for help during his century in the Wych Cross, in the Burgess's basement, and for the pursuit of his tools afterwards. He doesn't think she will ever understand—he didn't want to worry her, or anyone for that matter.

Much less Hob Gadling, who is a mere 600 years old. He was older than most, yes, but still. Dream should be able to handle everything by himself. The Shaper of Forms should be able to fix all his problems on his own.

This is why Dream couldn't fathom why Hob gave him this tiny device he called a 'mobile phone'.

"Keep in touch," Hob said, "for when you need my help the next time you get... compromised. Or for when you just want a drink. Or a friend," he tacked on, grinning.

Dream stared at the phone accusatorily. It sat on the couch beside him in his room, unaware of his glare.

It was as if Hob didn't know how hard it already was for him just to mention that he'd been captured. By a human, with parlor tricks, no less. And before their recent meeting, they just met once every hundred years. Now Hob expected Dream to just... 'text' him?

Dream scoffed. This was ridiculous. They should have just continued to meet every hundred years.

But then again, the whole ordeal with Rose Walker and Desire just finished. Could Hob have helped with that problem? Most likely not. But sometimes, Dream did find that... elaborating... on one's feelings... proved. Useful.

And in the light of having been betrayed by his sibling, there was nothing he wanted more than to hear someone talk at him, for distraction. Or maybe even listen to him. Much like Hob did, the last time, in The New Inn.

Dream sighed. This was ridiculous. He tucked the phone into his coat, and left. He had much to do, and little time to spend on frivolities. He couldn't spend his time ruminating on every single thing in his life; he would certainly go insane if he did. So he will concentrate on the things he can fix now.

--

Dream was in the middle of a meeting with Lucienne and Merv when a ding! rang in the throne room. Lucienne looked up from her notes, and Mervyn cocked his pumpkin head.

It came from inside his coat. Dream paused for a moment, and opened his mouth to continue—

Ding!

"Uh, boss, I think that's coming from you," Merv said.

Lucienne hid the lower half of her face in her ledger. Dream dreaded to think why.

"I will take care of this," Dream said, standing from his throne. "I trust you will be able to attend to the repairs in my place, Lucienne. Mervyn."

"Of course, my lord," Lucienne said.

"See ya, boss," Merv said.

Dream turned away and blinked into his room before he could see them smile at each other at his expense.

He conjured the phone from his coat, forming from grains of sand. The screen simply said, '2 new messages from Hob Gadling.'

"Hey stranger! Fancy a night out at The New Inn? Just got done with finals, and I could use a relaxing evening. Beer for me, wine for you? I got you something even better than before," the first text said.

In their last meeting, Dream had actually caved to drinking wine. It seemed more palatable than any of the drinks in the past six centuries, and he was. In a good mood, so to say. He didn't really realize how thirsty he was until he got into a comfortable atmosphere.

"And I'm thinking you should try out our pizza tonight. Only made out of the finest ingredients, I promise. If you thought the shepherd's pie was good, wait for this one," the second text said.

And how hungry.

And because the Dreaming is him, thunder rumbled in the distance, as if to imitate an empty stomach growling.

This is ridiculous, Dream thought, as he stepped out of his room and into The New Inn. It was evening this time, and the place glowed yellow and orange. It was alive with its customers' tipsy buzz, the clinking of tableware, and the smell of savory food and alcohol.

Dream looked over to the spot where Hob sat before, and felt a pang of an unnamable feeling in his chest when he didn't see him there.

"My friend," bellowed a familiar voice from behind the counter.

It was Hob. He had a small towel thrown over his shoulder, and he had half of his hair tied back. Dream noticed the beads of sweat on his temples.

"Didn't expect you here so soon. I'll be right with you," Hob said, his face bright. He gestured to the table in the corner. "Have a seat."

And so Dream sat where he sat before. What was Hob up to?

"Sorry for the wait," said Hob from behind. He came brandishing a glass and a bottle. Was that a smear of something red on his cheek? And why was he wearing a flour-dusted apron? "If I knew you would come this fast, I would have texted you much earlier."

Dream watched Hob pour him a glass of wine.

"Y'know, you could have replied. I would've been more prepared that way," Hob said, setting down the bottle, and settling down across Dream. "Not that I mind, of course. Just thought you would be more preoccupied. But I could get used to it."

Dream huffed. "Do not. You merely caught me at an opportune time."

"And what joy," Hob said. He was grinning. Then he was standing up again. "Be right back."

Hob disappeared behind the counter and into what Dream assumed is the inn's kitchen. Dream looked at the wine. It didn't seem right to drink alone.

So instead, Dream listened to the sound of the inn's patrons talking to their friends about their day, good or bad, listened to the soft music playing on the speakers, listened to the dreams of a student snoozing on his friend's shoulder, heavily inebriated too early in the night.

He was having a nightmare about his 'finals,' as Hob called it. Dream waved the nightmare away. In this place, he deserved comfy dreams. His nightmare could wait another night.

"Make way, hot pizza coming through," Hob announced from behind again, hurriedly setting down a wooden plate. On it was flat bread with golden, melted cheese and the same red sauce that Dream saw on Hob's cheek earlier. There were also sliced cherry tomatoes and basil leaves on top. The pizza glistened under the yellow lights of the inn.

"Been a while since my last pizza," Hob said, sitting down across him with a sigh. He held his beer in his other hand. Maybe this time he would stop moving around so much.

Wait.

"You made this," Dream said, in disbelief.

"Yeah, picked it up when I lived in Italy a few years back. Don't think it's as good as how they taught me, but you be the judge. And don't hold back," Hob said as he cut through the sauce and cheese with a knife. "Hey, you haven't drank your wine yet."

"No," Dream said. He didn't want to elaborate.

"Buon appetito," Hob said, gesturing to the pizza. He wiped some of the sweat on his forehead away with his towel.

Dream stared at Hob.

"Please, before it gets cold," Hob insisted.

"Are you not going to eat?" Dream asked.

"Oh." Hob paused. Was that surprise? "I suppose I should, shouldn't I?"

Dream took his slice the same time Hob did, but Dream had more difficulty with his. The cheese stretched on impossibly, refusing to let go, until Hob chuckled and cut through it with his knife.

And finally, Dream bit into the slice. Both the sliced tomatoes and the tomatoes used in the red sauce reminded him of a dream of a farmer in the Italian countryside, toiling away in the hot day and coming home to his wife and son, his arms full of produce. The hot cheese came from the milk of a family cow cherished by its farmer. It dreamt of a seemingly never-ending green pasture, where she lived with her calves. The bread had the thoughts of the man in front of him kneaded into it, thoughts of how proud he was of his students, especially those graduating soon. Even the basil leaves contained Hob's thoughts, each carefully placed on the pizza, wondering if Dream would like it.

Dream gulped.

"Good?" Hob asked. He was smiling, but Dream spotted a bit of worry on the lines in his crow's feet.

"It is," Dream tried to find a sufficient word, but ended up echoing Hob, "good."

Dream watched Hob's shoulders loosen.

"Good. Great," Hob said, grinning, fully this time.

Dream felt his own chest tighten. He stifled the feeling with more of the pizza instead, and listened to Hob launch into how finals week went.

Maybe later in the night, wine-drunk, Dream would tell Hob of what happened recently. But right now, he was content to eat, and drink, and listen to his friend.

[another-heroine]

9 Ship Songs 2.0

Some time ago I was tagged on this one, and by that time I have had no enough songs for any of my beloved ships.

Now that my brain is spinning Lann and Katya like a rotisserie chicken, I am finally able to list nine songs for them at least lol

(And I just followed the shuffling order of Spotify. Check on their playlist here)

Be There (Seafret)

You've got me surrounded

It feels like I'm drowning

And I don't want to come up for air

I lost everything

I threw myself in and you took me when no one was there

Well you can take what you need, take the air that I breathe

And I'll give away all that I own

Whatever I lose, is put back by you in a way that you'll never know...

Sunlight (Hozier)

I would shun the light, share in evening's cool and quiet

Who would trade that hum of night?

For sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

But whose heart would not take flight?

Betray the moon as acolyte

On first and fierce affirming sight

Of sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

I had been lost to you, sunlight

And flew like a moth to you, sunlight, oh, sunlight

Oh, your love is sunlight

Oh, your love is sunlight

But it is sunlight...

Honeylight (Amber Run)

There's nothing to it

You just exist

Then you die

I'm under no illusion

That things get better

But I'II try

'Cause you know it goes down like honey (honey)

So open wide, open wide

You don't have to say you're sorry (sorry)

You only tried, you only tried

It comes in waves, it's red like rust

And in the stream you see the dust

I would like to bathe in honey (honey)

In honey light, in honey light...

Creep (Radiohead)

When you were here before

Couldn't look you in the eye

You're just like an angel

Your skin makes me cry

You float like a feather

In a beautiful world

I wish I was special

You're so fuckin' special

But I'm a creep

I'm a weirdo

What the hell am I doin' here?

I don't belong here...

Hello My Old Heart (The Oh Hellos)

Hello, my old heart

How have you been?

Are you still there inside my chest?

I've been so worried

You've been so still

Barely beating at all

Oh, don't leave me here alone

Don't tell me that we've grown

For having loved a little while

Oh, whoa, I don't wanna be alone

I wanna find a home

And I wanna share it with you...

War (Poets of the Fall)

Do you remember standing on a broken field

White crippled wings beating the sky

The harbingers of war with their nature revealed

And our chances flowing by

If I can let the memory heal

I will remember you with me on that field

When I thought that I fought this war alone

You were there by my side on the frontline

When I thought that I fought without a cause

You gave me a reason to try...

Colours (Billy Raffour ft JJ Wilde)

It's the smartest thing I ever did

Opening my heart to let you in

You taught me that despite the evidence

I'm still worth a damn, you'd still take the risk

Oh, stay with me, don't ever leave

Where I was broken, you made a home in

Where I had nothing, you gave it all

Where I was hardened, you grew a garden

Your love, it hollers down my halls

I've got your colours on my walls...

Golden (Harry Styles)

Golden, golden, golden

As I open my eyes

Hold it, focus, hoping

Take me back to the light

I know you were way too bright for me

I'm hopeless, broken

So you wait for me in the sky

Browns my skin just right

You're so golden

You're so golden

I'm out of my head

And I know that you're scared

Because hearts get broken...

Sirens (Pearl Jam)

Hear the sirens, hear the sirens

Hear the sirens, hear the circus so profound

I hear the sirens more and more in this here town

Let me catch my breath to breathe then reach across the bend

Just to know we're safe, I am a grateful man

The slightest bit of light and I can see you clear

Oh, had to take your hand, and feel your breath

For fear this someday will be over

I pull you close, so much to lose

Knowing that, nothing lasts forever

I didn't care, before you were here

I danced in laughter, with the ever after

But all things change, let this remain...

[thesecrimsonstrings-if]

6 and 23 for the spotify wrapped ask? 👀🤲🏼

6) driver's licence // olivia rodrigo

ronan bennett

“why are you doing this to me,” he asks and oh, your heart breaks. it aches from the unbearable crack that threatens to pull you down to your knees and tell him that you didn't mean any of it.

but you have to do this. you have to keep ronan safe, and unfortunately that includes breaking his heart. yours is just one of the casualties in the process too.

“i know i haven't been the perfect partner for you, but please give me a chance again. what did i do wrong?” he pleads, doe eyes on the verge of tears.

‘nothing,’ you want to tell him. ‘you did nothing wrong, my love.’

but you can't tell him that, can't tell him that you're only doing this for his own good. you shake your head silently for the last time and ronan's desperate hands try to hold you close, just a sense of security to know that you aren't leaving. that maybe this is all just a bad dream.

but you've already left the car, and ronan is left staring at the place where you once sat and broke it off with him. the red lights and stop signs do a show of mocking him. he can't even close his eyes without seeing your somber face as you tell him that you've fell out of love.

his friends always told him that you weren't right for him, too secretive and moody. but none of them knew you like ronan did. they wouldn't have understood.

how is he supposed to move on from this now? you said ‘forever’, but it all seems like empty promises now that he drives alone through the streets where you used to walk together. where you laughed at each other's jokes and first held hands.

“i guess you didn't mean what you wrote in those poems about me,” he smiles bitterly.

23) traitor // olivia rodrigo

i tachibana

their eyes flicker between you and the person you were just in the diner with, all smiles and lingering touches. {$I_name} knew that it was a bad idea to eavesdrop on you two. They were just supposed to grab something to eat and leave before their commander found out that they'd sneaked off.

when they saw you sitting alone, they'd psyched themself up and nonchalantly try to greet you. maybe even try to sit next to you. but they had to stop when a person came into the diner and greeted you with an enthusiasm of an old friend. their pointy ears aren't hard to miss for {$I_name}'s eyes, probably an elf.

okay great, so you were just here to meet with one of your supernatural friends. big deal! they roll their eyes to themself, and yet can't seem to squash down the insecure whispers in the back of their head as they stare at you two.

the person with you laughs especially hard when you tell them a corny joke and {$I_name) almost crushes the glass of dr. pepper in their hand. you weren't that funny.

then it happens. the person leans in towards you, as if to steal a kiss. a kiss that {$I_name} had frustratingly dreamt of stealing for themself. this time they do crush the can of soda in their hands and everyone in the restaurant turns to look at them.

but {$I_name} could care less about all of them. they're only looking at you, as your eyes widen in surprise and quickly the expression turns into guilt. glancing between them and the elf you were talking to, you stand up to move towards them.

{$I_name} decides they've had enough of the shit show they had just witnessed. it was their fault for being too nosy anyway. and why does it hurt so much? you weren't theirs to begin with. you could kiss anyone you'd like. be with anyone you wish.

they ignore the way their heart clenches painfully at the thought of you and someone else together.

“you didn't even cheat in any way, vampyr. but oh, why do i feel like you betrayed me.” they clutch their heart, laughing mournfully at their own pathetic self.

“god i wish i would've thought this through, before i fell in love with you.”

[lauwrite1225]

Somebody to die for.

Finan x OC; The Old Guard inspired Alternative Universe

Summary : Victoria’s life is rather simple until she has a car accident from which she ends up miraculously unscathed. A series of weird events animates her daily life, everything seemingly bringing her to a strange man. Until this very man knocks at her door.

Spotify Playlist • Masterlist

A/N : It’s Finan Friday again my dudes! I hope you all are fine! This chapter signs the REAL beginning of the story, hope you will like it ;)

Warnings : none! For once! Won’t last I fear lmaoo

Chapter 4 : I’m not calling you a liar, just don’t lie to me

Victoria wakes up suddenly, a frightened scream escaping her. She is sweaty and panting, her hands resting on her chest as she stares at the darkness surrounding her. Soon enough, the obscurity is broken when the door of her bedroom opens, letting in the light from the corridor. Finan is standing in the doorway but she can't read his expression as she sits up on her bed. 

“Are ya alright?” He asks, walking carefully towards her. 

She nods quickly, catching her breath in slow inhales and exhales again, but she's still shaking. He sits on the edge of her bed, his worried eyes studying her face and his hand rubbing her back. 

“I'm alright.” She whispers. “It was just a dream.” 

Finan suddenly stops his movement, making her look at him, his eyebrows furrowed.  “D'ya still have dreams?”

“After I met you it stopped.” She explains, rubbing her face and then letting her hands slide in her hair. “But I was back in the forest, where you died. You were still here, but I was staring at that young monk.” Finan's fingers tense against the fabric of her shirt, but she doesn't pay attention to it. “It was just like for you. I felt him die.” 

Victoria sighs, confused and still shocked. Finan's palm leaves her back and she turns her head to him. “Is it the first time ya've been dreamin' of him?”

She shakes her head. “No… No it isn't.” She stands up, walking to her desk to search for a paper. She feels Finan's gaze on her before she hears him walking behind her. “When I started to dream about you, I drew you.” She explains, pointing at a portrait of Finan. He takes it delicately while she keeps looking for the others. “Here!” 

She grabs her drawing of the young monk and hands it to Finan. His face falls and he mutters something inaudible.

“I think I've seen him through your memories.” She continues, ignoring the way he retreats, his eyes still fixed on the paper, until his calves hit her bed and he sits on it. “Do you know him?” She asks, crouching in front of him to try to meet his eyes.

Finan's jaw clenches and she squeezes his knee, calling him softly, but he is desperately captivated by the young man from her dreams. His reaction however is enough for her to understand that he isn't a stranger to him.

“Finan, if I've been dreaming of him, maybe that means he isn't dead. Maybe he is like us.” She says, a hopeful and reassuring smile growing on her lips. 

She thought the news would have pleased him, especially after being lonely for a millennium. And it seems that this monk is someone he used to know, one more reason for Victoria to think that he should be happy. But there's not even the shadow of a smile on his face. Instead, he exhales slowly, putting the drawing beside him onto the blanket.

“I know.”

Vicky blinks, confused. “What do you mean, you know?” 

“I know him and I know he is alive.” He says emotionless, avoiding her gaze. 

She stands on her feet, her eyes wide open. She can't believe he has been lying to her and it's a strange feeling that boils in her chest, made of confusion, anger and betrayal. Finan looks up to her and is about to speak but she slaps him across the face. She's as surprised as he is about her action but she can't find the will to apologize while he rubs his cheek.

“You lied to me!” She shouts at him, her voice breaking in disbelief. “You said we were the only ones! You said you've been alone for all this time.”

“It's more complicated than ya think.” He grumbles.

Victoria scoffs. “It's no reason to lie to me! I trusted you!” Finan's jaw twitches but he says nothing, which upsets her even more. But she tries to calm down, wanting to know the truth. “How many are we?”

He hesitates, his fingers drumming on his thigh. “With ya, five.” 

“Fucking five!” She rolls her eyes and walks to her desk to take her two last drawings, handing them to the Irishman. His face darkens even more and she notices how hardly he swallows as he takes in the two men. “Is it them?” 

He nods, and even though she can see the emotions in his eyes, the way tears are threatening to roll on his cheeks, she can only feel anger. She pinches the bridge of her nose, walking in circles around her bedroom. “I can explain ya.” Finan eventually whispers, making her halt.

“I don’t want to hear your explanations.” She says sharply and he stares at her with as much surprise as when she slapped him. She sighs, rubbing her eyes now. “Just… Just leave.” However, Finan doesn’t leave, still fixated on her. “Fucking leave!” She shouts and he finally stands up. 

It’s only when she hears the door of her flat closing that she allows herself to fall on her bed. She feels so betrayed, even though she knows him for a short time, she has accepted that he would be the only forever she would ever know. The only constant when all the people she knows will disappear one by one. But everything was a lie. Well at least one part, but Victoria is blinded by anger. However, she does regret kicking him out of her flat as a hundred questions are rising in her mind and only he could answer them.

She feels that way for the rest of the week, having a thousand questions about the three other immortals, but too proud to accept Finan's excuses and ask him about them. Finan, on the other hand, does try to talk to her, sending her texts and calling her. And she just ignores him.

“Why don't you answer?” Rebecca asks her when they are taking their lunch break together in a small park, Vicky having declined the Irishman's call with a long sigh. 

“It’s nothing important.” She replies before taking a mouthful of her salad. “Is it still okay for dinner on saturday?”

Becca nods. “Yes, I’ll drive you if you want.”

“Oh, that would be great.” She smiles, grabbing her bottle of water.

“When are you planning on getting a new car, by the way?” Rebecca asks her. 

Vicky chokes with her water and coughs a little. “Hum yeah… Soon? I guess? I've got to see.”

Her friend narrows her eyes while Victoria averts hers. “You're really weird these days, Vicky.” She says with a more serious tone.

“What do you mean?”

“I don't know, you're always busy, and when you dare spend time with me, it seems like you'd rather be somewhere else.” She explains, resting her chin on her palm. And suddenly, a mischievous smile spreads on her lips. “Or someone else.” 

Vicky rolls her eyes, Rebecca definitely won't let go of that. She should have known better that after a week of not mentioning it she would return to the attack. “There’s no one, Becca.”

“Sure.” She smirks, pretending to look at something further in the park. “Well, when there will be someone, I would love to hear about that someone.”

“You’ll be the first to know.” Vicky grins exaggeratedly. 

Saturday comes earlier than she expected, and for the last two days, Finan stopped texting her. She can’t tell if she’s happy about it or not, she may still be angry at him, he is the only one able to answer her questions, and especially those about the three other men. So as she drives Rebecca’s car towards her parents’ house she makes a note to herself that she’ll have to text him tomorrow. But in fact she won’t have to do it because her phone rings, and she barely has the time to recognize Finan’s number until Rebecca grabs it.

“Oh my god, no Becca, don’t answer!” She says but her friend just wiggles her eyebrows and presses on the green button. 

“Hello?” She smirks innocently while Victoria is mouthing her insults. She can barely hear Finan’s voice through the phone. “Oh, no Vicky is driving right now, she can’t answer. But she’ll be very glad to see you later, I’m sure.” She grins at her, Vicky giving her a threatening glare. “She’ll be at home at 10.”

She then hangs up, visibly satisfied by her move but Victoria definitely doesn’t have the same opinion. “Why the hell did you do that? It could have been anyone else!” She shouts, raising a hand toward her phone in an annoyed fashion.

Rebecca simply chuckles, looking at the road again. “I recognized the number, you’ve been ignoring all his calls.”

“Indeed, and maybe there’s a reason for that!” She grumbles, trying to remain focused on her driving. 

“What’s that reason?” She asks curiously, something she maybe should have asked before.

Vicky rolls her eyes. “It’s complicated.”

“So, it’s the guy you’ve been seeing for the past weeks?”  She tilts her head.

“Christ, you’re really obsessed Becca.” She sighs, glancing at her quickly only to see her mischievous smile. 

When they finally arrive at her parents’ house Vicky is happy to notice her brother’s car while Rebecca’s face falls. The blond grins widely, she’ll have her revenge tonight after all. Since childhood, Rebecca has always had a thing for her older brother, Charles, and since she knew it, Victoria loves to tease her with that. As they walk to the front door, her best friend harasses her with questions about whether or not she knew Charles was here, and she just shrugs. And of course, it has to be him that opens the door and Rebecca can’t look more uncomfortable than when he leans to kiss her cheek after hugging Vicky. 

Charles is two years older than Victoria, and like she likes to call him, the intelligent one, while she is the weird one. For two years he’s been studying in Edinburgh and coming back home only occasionally, and usually without a warning. Obviously, with both Rebecca and Charles at home for dinner Vicky is far from being the center of the discussion, which doesn’t displease her as it gives her the opportunity to slip away to the kitchen when she receives a text from Finan. She can’t help but smile at his message saying that he suspects her not being consensual about their meeting later and that if she wants, they can cancel. Vicky hesitates a moment before answering. Maybe she can still be upset at him and see him to have answers. She’s yearning to know what made him lie to her, and who those men are and if maybe she could meet them too. So she texts back that they still should meet tonight anyway.

“Holy shit, the parents won’t stop with their questions.” Charles complains as he enters the kitchen with a pile of plates. 

Victoria slides her phone in her pocket and grins at him while opening the dishwasher. “That’s the problem when you’re the intelligent one.”

He laughs, his golden locks shaking. He puts the plates in the machine and leans against the counter once it’s closed. “Rebecca hasn’t changed a bit.” He says softly, with a shy smile.

Victoria raises an eyebrow at her brother, wondering what he truly meant by this comment but her mother shouts at them to bring the dessert before she can ask. During the whole rest of the dinner she keeps staring between her brother and best friend, trying to catch something that would betray him, but Charles is clearly better than Becca at hiding feelings. This new distraction makes her forget all about the past strange days she has been through, and she feels like a teenage girl desperate to learn every gossip around. But when dinner ends it makes her awkwardly sad, Finan’s warning about the fact that one day she’ll have to leave everything behind coming back to her mind. So, as if she’s just learned the date of her death, which ironically could never happen in fact, she decides to enjoy every moment with her family and close friends to have no regrets. 

That’s how she ends up talking of their future summer holidays with Rebecca in the car while she drives back to London. She checks destinations on her phone, both of them debating on which is better between Greece and Sicilia. Time goes quicker and soon enough Rebecca stops in front of her building with a teasing grin. 

“Have a good night.” She winks.

“Fuck off.” She replies after pulling her tongue out and leaving the car. 

She looks around until she finds Finan leaning against a wall, as usual, his hood covering his face. She steps toward him and he straightens, an apologetic smile shadowing on his lips. Before he could say a word, Vicky speaks. 

“I’m still mad at you.” She declares crossing her arms over her chest.

“It has the merit of bein’ clear.” He tilts his head, his mouth forming a straight line. 

She ignores his remark and continues. “But I still have many questions. The first being why you lied to me?”

Even in the darkness of the night, just a few lampposts lighting the area, she can see how his eyes suddenly seem lost in what she supposes are memories of long gone days. “It’s a complicated story.”

“As if there’s anything simple with you?” She wryly asks and he chuckles while nodding.

“Right.” He sinks his hands in his pockets and briefly looks up, his gaze hovering over the window of her flat. “Maybe I could explain ya inside?”

“Yeah, I’m freezing.” She admits before walking to her building’s door, Finan following her. 

They climb the stairs quickly, glad to feel the warmth of the inside. She searches her keys in her pocket when they reach her floor but when she stretches her arm out to open the door and push the key into the lock something is wrong.

Noticing her hesitance, Finan steps behind her, leaning slightly above her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“The door is open.” She says and then shakes her head. “I must have forgotten to lock it correctly.” 

She ignores Finan’s furrowed eyebrows as he looks at her and pushes the door open. She steps in her flat, and she has an unpleasant feeling of a stanger’s presence growing in her chest. She first thinks she’s being paranoid, but when she reaches her kitchen and finds herself face to face with a man pointing a gun at her she realizes she wasn’t.

A/N: Don’t kill me for this end :(((

Tag :​ @for-bebbanburg​ ​ @naps4bats​ ​ @osferth​ ​ @maggiescarborough​ ​ @finansarms​ ​ @dumbledoreisnotmyhubby​

[jcs-study]

According to Matthew 26:24 (NRSV), while the Last Supper was still in full swing, Jesus said, "The Son of Man goes as it is written of him, but woe to that one by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! It would have been better for that one not to have been born."

I'm sure Judas feels much the same way, or else why would we be discussing "Judas's Death"? Just as Jesus has his breakdown in the Garden of Gethsemane, now Judas has a parallel breakdown.

I return to the live Australian cast from 1973 because the late, great Jon English gives one of the most harrowing performances of this number I've ever heard (in a very good way). Please, if you do nothing else as a result of this blog, support the official release on Spotify, on Apple Music, or by purchasing the CD from Aztec Records.

I will resist the urge to make an awful pun about the manner of death and just say hit the jump.

(CW / TW: mention of suicide.)

The Lyrics

JUDAS MY GOD! I SAW HIM HE LOOKED THREE QUARTERS DEAD AND HE WAS SO BAD I HAD TO TURN MY HEAD YOU BEAT HIM SO HARD THAT HE WAS BENT AND LAME AND I KNOW WHO EVERYBODY'S GONNA BLAME I DON'T BELIEVE HE KNOWS I ACTED FOR OUR GOOD I'D SAVE HIM ALL THIS SUFFERING IF I COULD

DON'T BELIEVE OUR GOOD SAVE HIM IF I COULD

PRIEST 3 CUT THE CONFESSIONS FORGET THE EXCUSES I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY YOU'RE FILLED WITH REMORSE

ALL THAT YOU'VE SAID HAS COME TRUE WITH A VENGEANCE THE MOB TURNED AGAINST HIM YOU BACKED THE RIGHT HORSE

CAIAPHAS WHAT YOU HAVE DONE WILL BE THE SAVING OF ISRAEL YOU'LL BE REMEMBERED FOREVER FOR THIS

AND NOT ONLY THAT YOU'VE BEEN PAID FOR YOUR EFFORTS PRETTY GOOD WAGES FOR ONE LITTLE KISS

JUDAS CHRIST! I KNOW YOU CAN'T HEAR ME BUT I ONLY DID WHAT YOU WANTED ME TO CHRIST I'D SELL OUT THE NATION FOR I HAVE BEEN SADDLED WITH THE MURDER OF YOU

I HAVE BEEN SPATTERED WITH INNOCENT BLOOD I SHALL BE DRAGGED THROUGH THE SLIME AND THE MUD I HAVE BEEN SPATTERED WITH INNOCENT BLOOD I SHALL BE DRAGGED THROUGH THE SLIME AND THE SLIME AND THE SLIME AND THE MUD

I DON'T KNOW HOW TO LOVE HIM I DON'T KNOW WHY HE MOVES ME HE'S A MAN HE'S JUST A MAN HE'S NOT A KING HE'S JUST THE SAME AS ANYONE I KNOW HE SCARES ME SO

WHEN HE'S COLD AND DEAD WILL HE LET ME BE? DOES HE LOVE DOES HE LOVE ME TOO? DOES HE CARE FOR ME? OH OH

MY MIND IS IN DARKNESS NOW MY GOD I AM SICK I'VE BEEN USED AND YOU KNEW ALL THE TIME GOD! I'LL NEVER EVER KNOW

(sob)

WHY YOU CHOSE ME FOR YOUR CRIME YOUR FOUL BLOODY CRIME

YOU HAVE MURDERED ME YOU HAVE MURDERED ME MURDERED ME, MURDERED ME, MURDERED ME

(voice trails away sobbing)

ENSEMBLE POOR OLD JUDAS SO LONG JUDAS

(repeat as directed, ending on:)

POOR OLD JUDAS

The Plot

Attacked by guards, Jesus is left half dead. How much worse is it, then, to be the man who delivers his friend into the hands of the abusers? Much to the bewilderment of Caiaphas and Annas, Judas laments what he has seen, appalled at what Jesus is being put through, and, worried about how he'll be viewed, Judas realizes that he will be blamed for what has happened.

Reflecting on his mixed feelings about Jesus, he recognizes that he is part of some grand design and that God is propelling him towards his destiny and he is powerless to change anything. Haunted by what he had done, filled with despair, Judas slips a noose around his neck and hangs himself.

The Analysis

To a certain extent, one of Judas' driving emotions throughout JCS has been anger, and he goes out on those terms. Whether or not his position is justified, he is now angry at Jesus for using him for his martyrdom, and he decides to commit suicide almost as an act of... well...

...yeah, that looks about right.

On a different note entirely, getting more at underpinnings than motivation, the experience of life flashing before one's eyes has been reported for well over a century. In Judas' case, this plays out musically. As he prepares to die, all the music in this sequence is from earlier songs, a flashback in each instance to the events that have led Judas to this point. We hear snatches of:

"Damned for All Time"

"This Jesus Must Die"

An ironic and sad version of "I Don't Know How To Love Him" (especially poignant because in the beginning, everything Judas did was out of love and respect for Jesus, and now he has -- probably -- become the instrument of his death; like Mary, he literally doesn't know how to love him)

The vamp from "Heaven on Their Minds"

And, finally, the choral tag from "Blood Money," only this time, the lyric "Good old Judas" becomes "Poor old Judas."

Later Lyrical Differences

The changes to this number which remain in the currently licensed version have been relatively minor with time: Priest 3's line was reassigned to Annas as early as Broadway, 1971, and on a significant musical arrangement note, the ensemble's entrance at the song's close changed.

On the original album, and in most productions pre-1996, the "Poor old Judas / So long Judas" bit came in opposite the chugging rhythm and increased in volume until the band dropped out after Judas died, leaving just the cast singing as they transition to Jesus' trial. It was a great effect, but hard to rehearse, because the vocals were in a different key -- and the cast expected to sing at a different tempo -- to the underscoring. Many productions dealt with this in different ways: some pre-recorded a few vocal passes and the cast sang along to get their key; others had access to a tuning fork, keyboard, or another instrument backstage that could feed them their note in their earpieces, ignoring the orchestra; and, of course, if one rehearses a cast well enough, they may be able to do it with no help and little issue. Lloyd Webber remedied this in the revival by dropping the vocals from that section and cueing the chorus to sing only when the band drops out. It does make things easier.

On the note of lyric changes that did not make the currently licensed version:

Tim Rice made a minor amendment to Caiaphas' first couplet for the 1973 film, probably aimed once again at foiling the Jewish community sniffing out the show's perceived anti-Semitism. He replaced the word "Israel" with "everyone," which, in addition to being a true rhyme, made the offending lyric far less damagingly specific. (Though this change was likely made early on, at the prerecording stage, pay close attention and read Bob Bingham's lips at this point. He is mouthing "Israel" in the take that was used in the final cut.) However, this did not transfer to the stage version.

In the 1996 London revival and many subsequent productions, Rice also took a stab at rewording Judas' confused, anxious anger -- the Internet would call it "Angrish" -- from frantic, fraught fragments to a more fully realized thought: "And I acted for our good / Save him if I could." This made it even to the 2012 Broadway revival but is not in the show today.

Speaking of the 2012 Broadway revival... while tweaking things in rehearsal as previously mentioned, Tim also made an adjustment to a later Judas line for Josh Young, presumably for ease of phrasing (the change is in italic): "Christ I'd sell out the nation / Not to be spattered with the murder of you." Aside from thinking that keeping "saddled" there would be less repetitive when combined with the following verse in context, I actually think it's rather graphic and blunt, and I'm not displeased that it hasn't crossed over into licensing.

Coming Up Next:

Judas is dead and soon Jesus will be too. There will be a "Trial By Pilate," and "39 Lashes" will be involved.