#allie's lyrics

[southern-wendigo-of-the-labs]

H-O-T-T-O-G-O You can take me hot to go What's it take to get your number? What's it take to bring you home? Hurry up, it's time for supper, order up, I'm hot to go!! What's it take to get your number? Hurry up, it's getting cold Hurry up, it's time for supper, order up, I'm hot to go~! H-O-T-T-O-G-O

[ruta-did-a-thing]

I never was ready, so I watch you go

[stone-stars]

They say the home is where the hearth is and fire heals the soul, but you've been trudging through the cold, you have been traveling through ice and snow. 'Cause time isn't an arrow, it's a dagger at your throat, and you are numb from head to toe, and all your blood has turned to stone. So come home to me, the fire's warm and I am making tea. The day has turned to night and all the snow has hardened into ice. Your boots are stained with slush, and the northern winds ain't letting up, and your best coat can't compete with an evening in good company. Frozen half to death, you need a hot meal and your bed, you need a blanket and some rest, you need a toddy and some buttered bread. You wear the mantle like an albatross and never take it off. You let yourself grow numb 'cause you're too proud to need someone. So come home to me, the fire's warm and I am making tea. The day has turned to night and all the snow has hardened into ice. The cold has got its claws in you. Oh, the weather she can be so cruel. But home is where the healing starts, so come in from the dark and find the hearth.

[littleeliza-lotte]

Grace and Dónal’s final show

Please do not share outside of Tumblr

[fallenrain40]

grgrgrgr aggressively throws this at you

allies or enemies !!! fits them !!! so !!! well !!! *dies*

[midnightdemonhunter]

(IT'S ALL IN MY HEAD BUT I WANT NON FICTION) NO ONE'S TOUCHED ME THERE IN A DAMN HOT MINUTE!

[weirderscience]

i won't ever let you go

[princessdarth-vader]

i can't stop thinkng about kristen this episode. her kindness. her honesty. she sees a grieving man; a man she hates, a man who has wronged her and hurt her, a man who she would be well within her right to vow to destroy, to laugh at his pain. and she says "it's too sad not to tell him". she tells him the truth about what she knows. a hard truth, but a necessary truth. he doesn't believe her, but she tells him anyway, because she cares. because this is a world barely a step from hers.

she talks to her brother, and she doesn't try to make a grand gesture. she doesn't try to heroically convince him to turn away. she empathises, she's been there. she tells him she understands. and she meets his doubt with courage, with a hand to hold, with a lantern to light up the overwhelming darkness. she offers him the hand he needs when he's too afraid to ask for it.

she talk to jawbone. she sees how hard a time he's having, and she reaches out. she helps, and she tells him that her plan was to take advantage of him, but she couldn't go through with it. she's honest and kind and giving at every fucking turn, and she tries again and again and again.

it's in the way she would still reach out and try to reconnect with her parents, who let her down and betrayed her trust and innocence. The way she insisted that buddy be revived, and was hopeless when she could do nothing to help. for all her chaos and bits, kristen is one of the most heartfelt and genuine characters in dimension 20 and i fully fully believe that.

[nomilkinmyteaplease]

Hadestown UK Behind The Scenes

[corvimalice]

> LOVE! LOVE! LOVE! MAKES YOU BLIND! BLIND!

[southern-wendigo-of-the-labs]

Before the fame, my life was drama, back when I went by Giam

Back when I ain't have a dollar, when I had to make ends meet

(God damn!) Giam would try hard to appease

Every little-ass demand, I always hated it when he'd

Conform to everyone around him, run away just like a coward

So I took away him power, now that name is dead to me

I killed that bitch Giam, and with his body went his name

So if you see me IRL, don't call me that again (don't call me that shit)

The ugly side, the part I hide, lies deep inside of me

Wait, did I say me? I'm talking about Giam

You asked who Giam is? I don't know him

He was way too mediocre.

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Please Be Rude

short and indulgent introduction to my rook and lucanis' dynamic. written pre-release so forgive ooc or contradictions

PG-13 - implied self-harm, mage killer tension, chronic pain, jealousy, rivalry, ANGST

-

"Slow down..." The detective raised her hands, narrowed eyes fixed on his dagger. "We're here to help, Crow."

She could be taken care of, too, if need be. The mage in front of him was his first priority. Blade pressed to her throat.

The air was coiled with magic. It crackled around her, rolling off her in a twitching miasma. Topaz yellow eyes set in dark sclera, animal and locked on him. Her arms did not raise, no panicked shuffle backward. Only the slightest twist of her head, a slow fluid movement.

Something was deeply wrong with her, the type he was trained to put down. And yet, his blade held. Staring up at her, transfixed. There was something terribly hypnotic about her, beauty arrested between fear and awe.

She held his gaze, her pupils tight pinpoints. Breath even against metal. Just the slightest extension of her neck in invitation was enough to break the spell.

He stepped back, swiftly stowing his dagger. Shoulders tight and breath strained.

What just happened?

Spite was over the moon with this development. Nearly bouncing in malicious excitement.

'Let me talk to her. I want to talk to that one!'

Lucanis shook his head, resting his hand on the hilt of his dagger. Eyes still narrowed on this dangerous stranger.

Spite growled in frustration, edging toward her regardless.

Haunting eyes slid to the demon's proximity as her pupils widened out into saucers. Not quite focused on his face but slowly scanning the place where he stood.

Even Spite froze. How strange the mockery of his form looked next to her. Only then did Lucanis really take her in and felt an involuntary jolt of his heart.

Long legs and wide hips that led into the dip of a waist. Full spiraled hair that fell to the small of her back, a fascinating rose gold. A regal face with pouted lips, an aquiline nose, and high cheekbones. Eyes slanted and mysterious as a hawk, the amber of them nearly glowed in the low light.

Angular pointed ears gouged with holes. A fractal scar struck at her temple and scattered through her cheek and jaw. A winding rope of a burn scar circled her swan neck.

Empathy struck him at her state. Elves didn't lead easy lives.

"You have someone with you." Her voice finally rose. Calm as a summer lake, and lilted as a loons lone call with a Navarran accent.

Her eyes settled on him again in curiosity.

Nevarra. He eyed the medical utility of her mage armor.

It suddenly all made sense. A Mortalisi.

His grip loosened on his blade.

"It's complicated." He offered.

"Who are you? Who sent you?" He held her in suspicion again. Though, curiosity overrode that more than he would care to admit.

"Caterina sent me."

Caterina?

He sized her up again.

The stillness she stood with was uncanny. A statue only broken by the slightest flexing in her long fingers. He was trained to know intentions just in the way a person stood. He was getting nothing from her.

It was plausible.

"You're not a Crow."

"And you're not human." She stated, a neutral blunt.

A smile nearly cracked his face. It didn't slip him that she hadn't offered her name yet.

"We need a mage-killer." The lilting of her voice was so melodic it bordered on a lullaby.

"I can still work." He assured.

She nodded and turned, done with their conversation. Apparently, the matter was settled.

A fondness rose in his chest, and he quickly stamped it down. He took up the stride of her walk.

"They have my blood, and a contract unfulfilled on my end."

Her step didn't falter.

"We'll settle it."

That fondness reared again.

"Excellent."

-

It had been three nights now at the Lighthouse, and he hadn't seen her.

It settled an anxiety in his gut that wouldn't stop gnawing. Everyone else was accounted for, but his new companion was a shadow he only saw maddening hints of.

She would make an excellent Crow, but she wasn't one. So, the behavior set alarm bells off in his system. Was she avoiding the others?

Quieter, in the back of his mind.

Was she avoiding him?

He shook his head. There was validity to that thought, but her reasons ultimately didn't matter. She was an invisible outlier that must be accounted for.

So that night, in the late of the witching hours, he set out to find her.

Spite jovially trotted at his side, reveling in the absurdity of his hunt.

'Looking for our terrifying beauty, are we?'

Lucanis ignored him, and the hackle raised at his possessive word choice. Ducking his head around doorways, step silent in the dark.

His stride took him up the winding staircase that led to a library. A further circular wing extended to his left.

Once the whole wing was searched, and he was preparing to rise to the next floor, a scent lifted in the air.

He paused, breathing it in. The unmistakable smell of petrichor. Impossible in this setting. There was no rain in the Fade.

His fingers probed along the wall. A seam hidden in wood. Searching further, he found a latch. A small door popped open.

'Oooh, secrets, secrets!' Spite cackled.

The door opened to a dark wooden staircase, risen up high beyond his vision. Rickety and heavy with newly disturbed dust.

He took the stairs, climbing higher and higher into an attic crawlspace. Eyes cresting over the edge of the warped wooden floor.

It was very dark, but the scent was heavy here. More defined. A bouquet of rain, ozone, a hint of sea salt, and something more. Lavender?

The calm of the heady aroma nearly unfocused him, but he finally found his target.

A long form was curled in a corner. The low spectral light from a crescent window fell in slants across her.

She was turned into the wall, laying on her side. Her bicep was the only pillow for her head, no blanket over or bedroll under.

He studied her in confusion, then familiarity. He could recognize the feign of sleep in her even deep breathing. Still facing the wall, but with eyes he knew were open. Waiting for him to make a move. Both held in charged silence.

Familiarity slid to regret. Well, not regret, he needed to find her. Remorse was closer.

How he knew the act of folding yourself so small you could fit into a crevice. Only safe tucked into the cracks.

He had only just learned her name through some digging, her true name beyond the title of Rook. Rassou. A name he had repeated quietly to himself, enjoying the way it hissed and rolled over his tongue. A secret he inexplicably couldn't resist coveting.

Would she respond to it now if he whispered it?

But that was far too intimate. Too much for him and for this figure hiding in a cold attic.

He stepped forward, and she curled tighter into herself. Legs tucked into her chest, breath stilled.

He paused. Sorrow tight in his chest.

He wanted to...

What did he want?

I don't want to hurt you.

A dangerous feeling. Only the surface of a rippling well of emotion that he refused to stare into.

His jaw clenched.

He removed his overcoat as he stepped closer. Her eyes remained on the wall. Draping it over her, he retreated silently back downstairs.

-

She rubbed her cursed hands on her knees to no avail. The tingling pain cramped the muscles stiff, and no amount of coaxing would recede it.

A lifetime forced her to know this. But desperation was not a sensible thing.

"Come on, not now. Not here." She hissed, closing her eyes tight to the torrent rising behind her breast bone. Frustration was a very effective catalyst. One she couldn't afford to indulge.

Trained deep breaths filled her lungs, released through pursed lips.

One... two... three...

Focused slow. Body slow, breath slow.

As long as she was quiet.

Four... five... six...

It will pass.

As long as she was still.

Eight... nine... ten.

They would be safe with her.

She was in control.

"Okay..." She hushed as her eyes slowly opened.

Stolen sleep was not the end of her tether. It never had been. She was stronger than her body, no matter how it tormented her.

But the pain had never abided being ignored. Pain spoke, but it could not listen. Lightning flashed deep in her veins, and it would never heed to her exhausted requests to just stop. Sleep would be held above her reach until it was expelled.

The easiest release was to call a storm. Rising her arms to the heavens to strike from deep in her marrow. A tempest struck from the core of her person.

But this was the Fade. The upper atmosphere was something she wasn't confident in testing.

Option two was a royal elfroot balm. She used to soak up to her forearms in the salve until she was numbed from the elbow down. But she had run out weeks ago, scraping the corners of the tin she had stretched far past its end.

Option three...

They already gave her neck stares. And her thighs were fully wound in scars. Maybe her ankles could take the burned flesh, but it would be excruciating to chafe on her boots. There would be questions.

She sighed, rising to feet. Striding quiet up stone.

A tucked away corner of a stairwell had become her new home. Colder than the crawlspace, but she had slept in worse. She considered keeping up a rotation to avoid further discovery, but there was too much pain to consider anything right now.

There had to be herbs stockpiled somewhere in this sprawling place. The pantry was a good bet.

Except... the Crow tended to haunt the kitchen.

She had returned his overcoat immediately. Leaving it neatly folded on a chair near the cabinets. Of all of them, he should have the sense to stay away. It was hard enough to dodge Bellara's offers of comradery. The girl seemed fixated on winning her over.

Listening at the door for far too long, her hands started to seize again. With a silent huff, she edged her way in.

Searching shelves in the dark with unwilling limbs, she gave rare thanks to her ancestry. Elves had uncanny vision in low light and with eyes that reflected like a predator in the dark. Her inhuman eyes had been accused of stalking villages in the night during her travels.

Good. They should be afraid of her.

"Those are organized by spice group."

Her hand seized, knocking a jar to shatter on the floor.

Lucanis stepped forward from the wall he had been silently leaned on. She stepped back into the opposite wall. Pressing her back flat against stone.

"Easy..." He soothed, hands stretched open in assurance. Taking another step forward.

Her hands clenched shut hard at her sides, and the pain intensified so high it brought tears to her eyes. Doubled over into her forearms, a whimper of pain caught pathetically in her throat. Heart a kicking, cornered animal.

His shoes quickly filled her vision.

Thunder rolled in her chest.

Her ears popped as the air pulled.

Lucanis paused his hands above her. The change in the atmosphere palpable.

"No..." She whispered.

I don't want to hurt you.

Run.

"Shut up!" Lucanis hissed over his shoulder.

The spirit.

Her eyes raised.

It had been so long, she had nearly forgotten. There was a fourth option.

Rassou raised her shaking hand above her head, holding her palm as flat as she could manage. Breathing shallow through a building scream.

"What are you doing?... Don't -"

But a terrible warm met her palm eagerly, interlocking over her knuckles.

An exhausted smile split her face. She released.

A burst of lightning shot from her. Tension melted in the limb like sugar on a tongue, her head lolled forward.

The mirrored form of Lucanis lit for a brief moment in front of her, made manifest in electrocution, as the real Lucanis looked on.

"Again?" She smiled, raising her other hand as her body released from its tight curve. It was immediately taken by the same fervent heat.

She sent another torrent of shock, more intense this time, pulled from deep in her chest. The near constant knot between her shoulders unwound. A small moan of relief left her.

A sigh exhaled from deep in her belly. The heat nearly vibrated with demand. Again.

"Okay, last one for tonight." She planted her feet and pulled from the base of her spine. It arced out in near ecstasy, fluttering her eyes up into lids. Her lower back unfurled, and the muscles in her hips almost gave out. All the tight in her body unwound as a tapestry fast pulled by a thread.

She fell back against the wall loose and stretched, experiencing the transcendent relief only found after the quell of a great pain. Breathing in full pulls of her diaphragm.

"Thank you." Hushed from her lips.

Ducking back out of the door, she rubbed her trembling hands. Massaging her thumbs into her palms, working out the deep ache that still lingered.

-

"What are you reading?"

She looked up from her curl in a nook of the library, always hidden away in some tight corner. It was shameful how often he found himself unconsciously searching for her lately, a one-sided game of hide and seek.

Topaz eyes stayed stony on him, staring him down. Looking at him through tendrils of softly pink tinted spirals, fallen loose from the full golden bundle on the top of her head.

He had never seen someone who looked quite like her before.

There was a long moment of silence that he tried not to squirm through. Intent on showing his intrusion was friendly, leaning against a shelf as a token of vulnerability.

It had not gotten past him that she was on closer terms with his demon. In fact, it had been tormenting him. The actual gloating from Spite didn't help one bit.

'She likes me! Hah! I helped her AND touched her soft skin, and you haven't! When you walk in, she looks for me first!'

It was made worse in the truth of it. Spite would bound over to her like a gleeful imp, and she would turn and give a little smile to the aura of her invisible pet. Greeting him in a soft voice.

"Hello Kakό."

He eventually worked out a translation from a book on Nevarran language he had scrounged from a dusty shelf.

Mischief.

The first time he saw her smile was looking at Spite. Her Mischief.

He tried to stamp down the sickening coil of jealousy in his stomach. Not backing down from her maintained stare for a moment.

She finally held up the book, the cover revealed to him, then set in back on the crest of her knees. Eyes fallen back on the page.

He had barely taken in the cover, some historical tome he was unfamiliar with.

"What's it about?"

She looked up at him again, somewhat incredulous through a blank stare. Sizing him up after a moment with her eyes.

He had pursued targets since he could work. He knew how to feed into someone's benefit of the doubt. How to soothe and coaxe, to slip into the hairline cracks of a targets good graces. Here he was nearly strangled with anxiety. Desperate to reintroduce himself properly.

Hi, I really enjoy your company. You're really interesting, I'd like to be around you a lot more.

Her posture finally opened somewhat begrudgingly, uncurling to lean on folded legs. The book was still held in front of her within an elegant hand. "Cannibalism." She offered in a monotone.

That piqued his interest.

"And are you a fan...?"

She cracked the smallest smile, and his heart roared with triumph.

"I haven't partaken, if that's what you're implying. But the sociology surrounding it is a broader subject than most realize."

He blinked. That was the most he had ever heard her speak and was mildly distracted by how her accent played within the sudden eloquence of her words.

The thought of receiving a passionate lecture from her on the nuance of cannibalism thrilled him. Slowly stretching on the balls of his feet in excitement.

"What could the broader subject be on eating a corpse?" He scoffed.

The book snapped down onto her thighs. He had to clench his jaw to not smile. Success.

"That is only one very limited aspect of cannibalism." She held her fingers up, bending them down with her opposite hand as she reprimanded his feigned arrogance. "There's nutritional, ritualistic, post-mortem and living. Symbolic. Auto. What you're referring to could fit into many categories, including mortuary consumption."

His heart soothed as she went deeper and deeper into the subject. Her passion and clear education on the topic was intoxicating. Spellbinding in her winding through subjects. He took in every word as researched truth, even as she reiterated that she was not as learned as her peers. Maybe even more so because of that. Fully enraptured.

She had just started down an anecdote about a case of impulsive cannibalism brought on during a vicious attack, her posture leaned toward him, fully locked in on her impromptu student. Then Neve called out from far below them.

"Rook! Enough skulking, we've got a lead!"

His heart fell.

"Gamό gia chari..." She muttered under her breath. "Heard!"

"I've wasted your time." She hopped down from her hideaway.

"Time is never wasted in good company. I'd like to hear the end of that story." He rushed, trying to reign in his enthusiasm. Desperate to not spook her again. "It's cruel to leave such a tale unended."

She paused her stride, turning to him with arms crossed. Analyzing him again.

Neve's quick whistle broke the silence, and Rassou snapped her fingers at her in return. Shushing her with clear and precise authority.

Fully ignoring the lust that rose in his belly at that, he waited for her verdict on his character as her eyes returned.

"Would you kill me if I asked you to?"

That question paused him, but only for a moment. Certainty filled his voice.

"Absolutely."

She was quiet for a moment more, then nodded. Beckoning him forward with the curve of her long fingers.

"Come, Crow. We have work to do."

~

Next Chapter

[alyrictoasongbythecranewives]

Now listen close

You owe me ears for dropping eaves

Forget it all

You caught me in a moment weak

And sometimes I just can't help myself

Sometimes I can't help myself at all

[littleeliza-lotte]

Hadestown - Zachary’s final show (13/10/24)

[oleander-neruim]

Man the Winter really do be Red huh

[rpmusingsnmore]

are we allies or enemies ?      ( this will be           the death of me. )