#and I need this songfic

[shapeshifterraccoon]

where is my iwaoi broken melodies songfic??? rude???

[mediumgayitalian]

i mean I wouldn’t hate it if you went down the song line by line and explained your reasonings 👀 <- you don’t have to of course

ASK AND YOU SHALL FUCKING RECEIVE HOLY SHIT.

[girlinthetardis04]

I have been hit with the Blorbo Disease, so have this mediocre snippet 🤭

For context this takes place halfway through the AU, when they reunited with the Ithacan peeps, and they're catching up.

~~~~~~~~~~~⛵~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Agamemnon is dead?!" Eurylochos couldn't help but blurt out his distress at the news.

Penelope nodded from her seat next to Odysseus, whose arms were coiled so tightly around her shoulders any onlooker might worry they'd fuse together. "Believe me, I wish I could say it was a surprise. But you don't know how Clytemnestra has been since... You know. Before the war. I don't think there hasn't been a day in these ten years where she hasn't thought about it."

The rest of the conversation faded away into an indistinct buzzing for Cassandra, who hastily excused herself from the dinner table.

She rushed over to the parapet of the ship, desperate for some fresh air; yet, no matter how many deep breaths she took, it felt as if there was nothing but a vacuum in her lungs.

This wasn't meant to happen. She wasn't meant to be here. She wasn't meant to be alive. She had seen it, countless times. Agamemnon, torn to pieces. Clytemnestra, manic and covered on blood. Herself, laying on the floor, cold, lifeless, bloodstained-

A gentle hand firmly placed itself on her shoulder.

"You can relax, my friend"

Ah, of course. Polites. In the early days of sailing, he had been her only solace (aside from her dear sister in law) amongst the greek soldiers. Cassandra sometimes wondered if Helios himself hadn't fashioned a ray of his sun into a person to make Polites. There truly was no other explanation for how a man that had just been through a decade of bloody war could be so open and welcoming to everything and everyone the world threw at him.

"You seem troubled, Cassandra" he leaned on the parapet next to her "or, more than usual, I suppose"

Cassandra sighed. There wasn't a chance she'd be believed, but perhaps it would do her some good to let it out.

"I wasn't meant to be here, Polites. I wasn't meant to be on this ship."

Taking a deep breath, she turned around so she was no longer faxing the open waters.

"I was to be Agamemnon's prize. I was to be taken back to his palace, and..."

Her throat nearly dried up at the mere thought.

"And I was meant to die there. Killed by Clytemnestra. I saw it, Polites. Countless times"

Polites couldn't help but furrow his brows. Whether in confusion or concern, Cassandra wasn't sure. "I had years to come to terms with it. Years to accept my fate. But now..." She brought a hand to her cheek, drying her tears. When had she begun crying?

"For the first time in my life, I... I don't know what will happen next. I wasn't meant to live this far. I-"

Her hands were shaking, something she only noticed once Polites had taken them into his.

"How... How do you do it, Polites? Never once have I seen you troubled, or defeated, no matter what the Gods throw at us. How?"

Polites merely shrugged, with that smile that never seemed to leave his face. "I just... try to greet the world with open arms."

Cassandra shook her head.

"I do not understand"

"Well...I just spent the last ten years of my life fighting. I looked around and realized how tired I was of the war and bloodshed. I thought to myself 'is this how we're supposed to live?'"

He frowned, reminiscing about the conflict. The battles, the blood, the clashing of swords...it was too much for anyone.

"Why should we take, when we could give? We're not at war anymore. We can stop and lower our guard."

He gestured to the empty deck of the ship, and the waters surrounding him and Cassandra.

"Here, we have a chance for some some adjustment, I'm telling you."

He gently pulled Cassandra along as he wandered across the deck to sit down on an old empty crate, patting the empty space next to him for Cassandra to sit as well.

"This life is amazing, when you greet it with open arms."

Polites gave her a kind smile, softly cupping her face in his hands. Cassandra unconsciously leaned into his touch, too captivated by his words to notice.

"I see it in your face, there's so much fear inside your heart; so why not replace it, and light up the world, here's how to start: greet the world with open arms"

Cassandra leaned onto his shoulder, too drained by all the emotions of that evening to keep herself upright.

"...greet the world with open arms..."

She carefully rolled the worlds off her tongue, as if trying to grasp some hidden meaning.

Her eyelids grew heavy, and in a few moments she slumped over Polites's shoulder.

He chuckled, covering the former princess of Troy with his cloak to shield her from the cold night air. He leaned his head on hers.

"You can relax, my friend."

[canisonicscrewyou]

Hi ignore that I haven't been working on the prologue so I can start editing+posting The Fobwatch Fic. Anyways this fic scene possessed me at like 2 AM the other night and I needed to. Get it out of my system. And now you get to see too. This follows not-terribly-long after this scene actually. (Only other one posted)

Context to get here: Rory's watch opening, processing, the Master failing badly at kidnapping Amy, returning her back, and an argument that had ensued between the Doctor(11) and the Master.

Timeline context: Rory/Darvill!Master regenerated from Missy. Timeline fuckery.

"Anyways, now that we're over that." The Master presses a button on his TARDIS console. "Maybe it's time for something more familiar."

Music plays over the speakers.

Oh-oh-oh-ohhhhh-

"Wait-" The Master bangs on the console in his frustration, and the song starts to skip.

Rah rah-ah-ah-ah-a-ah

Gaga ohh-la— -la

Thud. "— that's not right-"

Caughzz—

- Want your—

Bad Romance.

"That isn't- oh- oh yeah, right, sorry - last chick was on the aux-"

Ooh-la-la

Want your-

Last chick? The Master had been holding Amy hostage... Kind of. The Doctor glanced at her, and she looks at him. "I was in here for all of forty minutes, I wouldn't even know how to put it on-" she starts, and there's a moment before the Doctor catches up and turns to follow the Master with a look of knowing delight on his face.

"Sorry, I'm sorry, wait a second, last who?"

Love love love I want your—

The Master rolls his eyes. "Oh, come on Doctor. I feel like that was very clear. Last girl round. My darling little sister, trying her best..."

Amy's brow knits, and she speaks up to direct a question to the Master, who was... stewing. "Sorry- Can you guys change that much?"

His face scrunches, and he pulls himself out of it."We can change much more than you think, Amy."

I want it bad your bad romance—

"Last time around I was a very cunty Scotswoman and I wish I could say I took inspiration."

There's a moment where he tries to skip, or stop, or something, but it kept going. So he did the next best thing- smack the column of the console with a loud, dull thud from the glass. And a sharp, quiet hiss from the Master when he winces and grabs the offending hand.

I want your - bad bad bad bad-ad —

oh-oh-oh-oh—

After a moment, the Master turns to the Doctor and points. "Don't go getting any ideas copying me next time around."

Bad Romance finally stops.

The Doctor suddenly turned serious about the whole thing. Right. Next time around. He wasn't sure if he wanted the Master to know that. Or Amy... "Master, the thing- about next time-"

The Master got closer, and prodded the Doctor's shoulder with a finger. "Don't worry about that too much, I wasn't talking to you right then. That was for later." The other song starts.* And with that finger poke, the Master makes a dramatic motion, as if he pushed himself away from the Doctor with great force as he circled his TARDIS console away from them both to check another monitor.

*Most Likely: Mamma Mia, Under Attack, or Istanbul(Not Constantinople). It will probably be mentioned again in a manner similar to Bad Romance once I decide. Yippeee.

Insert A Song Beat

"Did you seriously do that on purpose?" Amy asks, looking around the TARDIS for the exact source of the music, and then back at the Master. He still wasn't as far off from the sad drowned cat look earlier as he thought, looking up at her.

"Oh, Amy, there's on thing you should've picked up on by now: I'm dramatic." He winks at her. "You have to be, to keep up with him." He tilts his chin to the Doctor, and his attention returns to a monitor as it makes a beeping noise.

"... Anyways, Doctor, you can start running now." He says.

The Doctor hesitates. "... What do you mean?"

The Master continues to look on idly. "I mean that I happened to- to take- Amy to buy time. And to bother you. Oh, I know it bothered you. Probably even more than the whole Rory-Oopsie."

If the Doctor didn't want to believe he didn't have A Plan, he'd find A Plan.

"I knew you'd come back to Leadworth as soon as I did. Gave me enough time."

"... Time for what..?"

"Oh, to use that little trip-alarm you left for me to download the psychic data I needed from yourr TARDIS. To my TARDIS." The Master looked up with a big self-pleased smile to the Doctor's serious furrowed brow.

"Doon't worryy! I only took what I needed. C'mon, what's a little hacking among girls? Buut, I'll tell you this," he pushes a big square button, and the door to his ship opens.

"If you start running now, you'll get to your TARDIS with enough time to stop me from getting access to try 'n send her into orbit from here— ah,ah,ah,ah-" the Master tuts and pushes the monitor away from the other two, and braced himself against the Doctor when he tried to rush at his console with a shout, "- don't bother, Doctor, the controls are isomorphic," a lie, "you know me," he said into the Doctor's ear. "But I would run."

That felt. Good. That felt familiar.

The Doctor was already backing up. The Master didn't let go, right away, his hands following the other even as he left the embrace in unexpected panic.

"Amy, run!" The Doctor shouts, and runs.

"Amy, you can stay!" The Master shouts immediately in turn, turning to Amy with an open hand out.

And Amy hesitates, mouth open and eyes wide as she stares at the Master(at Rory's eyes), before following the Doctor out at a sprint. [cont]

[seventh-district]

Could've left me just the way you found me, but you came and put your wings around me. You went out of your way, to fix what you didn't break.

This song is so incredibly Sam & Darlin' coded and no one can tell me otherwise.

[lots of lyrical analysis below the cut] [there's also a short little fanfic blurb of them stargazing down there too (this post got really out of hand lmao)]

For those not fully caught up, note that the following commentary contains various spoilers for Sam and Darlin's stories.

Note: Unfortunately this song is gendered, using the word 'girl' several times. Which sucks a little bit for immersion purposes, not only for keeping Darlin' gender-neutral, but also because I see this song as a duet between them, and Darlin' obviously wouldn't be addressing Sam with the word 'girl' either. So! As with most songs on their playlist, we're just gonna mentally omit any gendered terms we come across.

Side note: Frustratingly, this is one of those songs that didn't really even need to gender the subject in the first place. No part of the story or message is lost without it. But alas, many songs are like that, and so the playlist-makers of the world shall continue to suffer. [/lh]

Anyways, preamble's over. It's lyric time now yay!

Sam's Part

I was a ten-year train wreck

Technically for Sam I suppose it was 13 years, but ten is close enough (and 'ten' admittedly flows a lot better in the rhythm of the song than 'thirteen' would.) Anyways, we're not here to split hairs, (I have to remind myself), we're just here to point out similarities.

In Sam's Dec. '22 HBW, he says "For the last 13 years or so I haven't had to care too much about how I look. Seemed a little redundant after turnin', considerin' I didn't wanna be around much'a anybody anyway."

I think he's mentioned or alluded to that roughly 13 year period of time more than once, but that's the one I remember best so it's the example I'm using. There's still about 4 Sam audios I've yet to listen to as of making this post, so if I'm missing some Key Lore I'll edit this later. But for now, I don't think Sam has given many specifics on exactly how bad things got during that time. Luckily, 'train wreck' is a pretty broad and subjective term, so it easily covers any degree to which he may have fallen apart during those years.

It also feels like a very 'him' way of quickly brushing over the details of his past/his hurt, as he seems to tend to do with Darlin', (not all the time ofc but it's still something I've noticed) putting his own hurt on the backburner to prioritize and attend to theirs. Even outside of his dynamic with them, I think as a healer, it's something he learned to do. And now he does it with everyone. Put on a brave face, compartmentalize things and unpack them later, etc. I could go on and on but there'll be time for that in other posts I'm sure. For now, lets get back to the song at hand.

With a last-call longneck

Due to personal reasons, I've yet to decide if I want to HC him as having used alcohol as a coping mechanism during that time. I don't recall him having mentioned alcohol much, if at all, (maybe one mention of whiskey that I don't have time to find right now) so I don't think it's necessarily canon that he did, but it's certainly possible. My personal preferences aside, I'll admit it makes for some good additional angst. (And- self-indulgently- it makes some other songs on my playlist for them more fitting.) So, for the sake of this song, let's imagine that he did.

I was searchin', I'd been hurt real bad

This one feels pretty self-explanatory given what Alexis did, (and, if you wanna get even angstier with it, whatever his family did earlier on in his life) so there isn't much commentary to add on my end.

I HC that in spite of 'not wanting to be around anybody', he- like Darlin- still had a tiny part of himself buried deep down that was, in a way, 'searching' for someone to find solace in. (No this isn't me projecting onto them both haha what are you talking about-)

Movin' on, gettin' sidetracked One step forward and five back

This is generally applicable enough that I don't feel the need to give too much of a specific example. Anyone who's recovered or is recovering from trauma knows this non-linear, back-and-forth struggle well already, and I'm sure he was no stranger to it.

If I were to give some examples though, I could point to Darlin's (and subsequently, Sam's) encounter with Alexis at the summit, or the shit that Quinn dredged up about Fredrick and threw at Sam in the interrogation room. Those are both more recent examples and I imagine these lines of the song to be coming from a place of him prior to meeting Darlin', but still, they're some instances where I'm sure he felt like the past was pulling him back in. I'm sure that there's been many throughout those 13 years that we were never witness to.

Not your fault, I was scared to fall

This line reminds me of their 'Cuddles and Confessions' audio. I don't think he ever explicitly said he was 'scared' per se, so afaik there's no specific line I can quote, but in that and every audio prior, he was obviously hesitant to admit, perhaps even to himself, that he was gradually falling for them. Even after the initial confession, there's certain limits of his (e.g. biting) that he carries for far longer, and some that I (and others) HC that he'll carry forever. So this line feels to me like him reassuring Darlin' that his reluctance isn't the fault of them, but his past.

Darlin's Part

You were the star in the pitch black Shine the way on the way back

We don't have any canon instances of them comparing Sam to a star, but I can see it being something they'd say (perhaps less poetically, but the sentiment would be there) one night while laying up on their roof watching the stars with him. Maybe they're dead-tired, talking nonsense with lidded eyes at the end of a long day, fighting sleep in favor of more time spent with him.

"What- what're you pointin' at Darlin'?"

Their hazy focus is trained on the brightest star visible in their line of sight, arm stretched out to the sky above them. "That really bright one, to the... to the left."

Sam does his best to follow their less-than-specific directions of 'to the left', their pointed finger doing little to help given the difference in perspective. Luckily, after all these years, he knows this stretch of night sky like the back of his hand, so it isn't hard to locate the brightest one. Ghosting his fingers up along their arm, he takes their hand in his and brings it back down to earth. "Okay, yeah, I see it now. What about it though?"

"That's you." They say, matter-of-factly.

"That's me?" He questions, humor in his tone.

"Mhm." They nod with finality, blinking slow.

Sam considers the odd statement for a moment before gently correcting them. "I'm uh, I'm pretty sure that's Sirius, actually."

They scoff. "I am being serious."

Sam stifles a laugh into their hair. "No- no I mean- like... what's another name for it... Oh! It's also called the Dog Star."

"C'mon Sam, at least call it the Wolf Star if you're trying to turn this around on me..."

He shakes his head and readies himself to explain further, but they cut him off before he can start. "But no- no, this one isn't about me. That's you."

He decides to play along, finding something endearing in their overtired nonsense. "Okay... then would'ja be so kind as to explain to this confused old man just how, or why that star is me?"

Their frown is audible in their voice as they latch onto the wrong part of his sentence. "You're not old, Sam. ...Do I need to tell Asher to kick the jokes down a notch?"

He smiles at their over-protectivity. "There'll be no need for that, now. Was just a joke, darlin', I promise."

They huff, but thankfully shift focus back to the prior topic. "It's... I dunno. It's just you, Sam. It's... bright. Light. Something warm, out there in the cold dark. Standing out amongst all the rest. Calling to me, stealing my attention. I... I didn't come out here looking for it, but there it is. ...There you were. In the dark. The only bright thing I'd seen in... fuck, in years. Years of chasing fleeting warmth, tripping over myself in the pitch black, falling into... places 'n people I shouldn't have. You were the light in that darkness. Even there, surrounded by the ghost of him. You outshone it. Your warmth didn't hurt. I didn't have to squint when I looked at you. You weren't the blinding sun. You were the brightest star I'd ever seen. You guided me back home."

In the back of their mind, they recall something they once heard, something about light, and time, and distance. Space. Something about... how you can see a star that's already burnt out, because it's light hasn't reached earth yet. The ghost of a star that's already died. Only still perceptible thanks to time, and distance.

They remember Sam's words, once whispered to them on this very roof.

"Whatever your choice is... I'm not gonna live forever. I made that decision a long time ago."

They think about dead stars.

They think about time.

"...-lin'? Darlin'?" Sam's calloused hand slides up their forearm, pulling them out of their thoughts. "There you are. Think I lost ya' for a minute there... you good?"

They look up at Sam, concern creasing his features, shadows cast across his face from the light of the dying stars above him.

They reach out, pulling him down into them. Burying their face into his collar, Sam's concern grows when he feels it saturate with tears. A human might struggle to hear their words, muffled against the thick fabric, but his hearing catches it just fine.

"Don't burn out too quick. Please. I still need you here. I don't- I don't wanna be left in the dark again. Please, please Sam. Don't leave me here. I'm not selfish enough to ask you for forever, but please. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet."

.......Whoopsies! Really, genuinely didn't mean to improv an entire scene there, good god. Also didn't mean to swerve hard into angst at the end but uh. that's what came out! so I'm rolling with it lmao. Aaanyways let's move on, it's getting late and this is a song analysis post, not a fic.

Out of nowhere, answered all my prayers

'Out of nowhere' reminds me of Sam's words from the same HBW video I referenced earlier. "You came into my life like a damn wreckin' ball. There was no preparing for that, clothing or otherwise." While those were Sam's words, not Darlin's, I still feel like they feel similarly to how suddenly Sam came into their life as well. (Not in a bad way, mind you!)

[the significance of 'answered all my prayers' edges into my own personal more headcanon-y/personal/OC-ified Darlin' territory, so we can just gloss over this one for the sake of at least attempting to keep this more universally applicable]

Picked up the towel that I threw in Took in a heart that was ruined

Again, largely self-explanatory I feel. (*proceeds to explain anyways*) I imagine that Darlin' was at the point of throwing in the towel, hellbent on a solo-mission to find Quinn regardless of the danger it posed to them. I doubt they were looking toward the future anymore, (to reference Sam,) fully willing to throw themself at their problems until they really did break.

The specific use of 'ruined' hits hard here, because after everything they went through with Quinn, and especially after he recounted it all to Sam in that interrogation room, I imagine that they really, truly did feel ruined.

Showed me the past ain't a tattoo Loved me even when you didn't have to

These lines in particular make me sick with emotion every time I hear this song, because I feel like they hit the nail on the head for how Darlin' feels.

I'll be here citing various quotes all night that I feel showcase that sentiment, but we don't have time for that! So instead I'm just pointing to the entirety of 'Quinn's Aftermath' video, and leaving you with this single quote from it.

"Everything that he said reflects nothin' on you, and everything on him."

Equally Applicable Lines

And I don't know why Why you saw something in me, baby But you saw right through All the pain, and you came and saved me Yeah, I know you didn't leave me lonely Weren't the one that put the heartbreak on me Picked up the pieces It wasn't the mess that you made Could've left me just the way you found me But you came and put your wings around me You went out of your way To fix what you didn't break

Again, I think these lines are all pretty self-explanatory, and are just as accurate coming from either one of them. To me, at least, their entire dynamic is that they saved each other, in their own ways.

(But I will admit, the final verses about 'going out of your way to fix what you didn't break' are definitely conjuring up memories of Sam in the early days, literally going out of his way to visit and heal Darlin' after their fight with the two vamps. In general, his continued/repeated healing of them after they once again hurt themselves is the very literal definition of fixing what he didn't break.

But! While we may have more blatant examples of Sam being 'the fixer' so to speak, I think he'd argue that Darlin' has done plenty fixing of their own. Physical wounds aren't the only things that need healing, after all.)

-------

[shameless self-promo of my Sam & Darlin' playlist for those few of u interested enough to make it to the very end of this wall of text. if u liked this then u might like some of the other songs on there soooo maybe go check it out and maybe perhaps give it a follow so i can get a little serotonin boost or dopamine or whatever the chemical is that's released when Number Go Up. ...okay that's it i hope u enjoyed my fixation-induced ramblings! thank u and goodnight]

[ilyfynn]

one note and i will go back to actually writing again

[omgpoindexter]

2!

this song directly correlates to the fic as it is… kinda based on the same movie 🤪 don’t tell me meteorologist dex and tornado streamer doesn’t shiver your timbers

[pyreneese]

Hey Death Note artists, amv and animatic makers who I love oh so dearly, you're all missing out on a prime lawlight song I just found ;) here.

[cate-deriana]

Broken when I thought that you were whole All the future memories that we'll never get to know Explaining, explaining the pain that I got When you left me in this life Tell me I can do this, I can do this on my own So Far Gone - ONE OK ROCK

Why is this so Lockwood/ Jessica coded?

[zelreedsandwrites]

Bitches only want one thing and it’s a homoerotic vignette of Imogen going absolutely feral to protect Laudna set to Get Off My Back by Bryan Adams 🤷🏼‍♀️

[writinginthesecrettrees]

So yeah.

Dean finds the porn Sam did to make ends meet in Stanford, and he doesn't say anything. But suddenly Centerfold is playing non-stop ("Driver picks the music, bitch.") and belting out "My blood runs cold, my memory has just been sold, my angel is the centerfold" and it doesn't take a pre-law genius long to figure out what's eating at him.

And maybe they never really broke up but that last time (furtive, angry, desperate, hurryhurryhurry before the bus pulls up) had been a goodbye and they both know that Dean's flings and Sam's almost-fiancee in those years weren't cheating. But this... getting money for getting fucked on film feels like a betrayal. If Sam would rather do porn than call Dean for help... Maybe the betrayal was his. He could have gone with Sam, could have kept him safe, could have gotten a job or hustled pool or, hell, he could have done the porn so Sammy could focus on school and stay his only. If Sam was doing porn, Dean had failed him. As a brother, as a lover--

Sam's voiice cuts through his thoughts. "I pretended they were you. I just... I was so empty without you."

And he wants to say he was too but instead he says "looked stuffed full to me," under his breath, half-hoping Sam won't hear and he doesn't look. Can't bear to see the kicked puppy hurt in Sam's eyes that he doesn't deserve because it was Dean's failing. Dean's fault.

And that's why he deserves the "Bet it took you all of an hour to fall into some bar slut's bed" Sam throws at him and the only time he's ever heard that venomous tone was aimed at Dad. Dean takes a breath, tries to pull his thoughts into some semblance of an argument and maybe if they get it all out, bleed out the poison, they can be them again, but Sam sighs before Dean can respond. "Dean, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

"Yeah, whatever," Dean says, because he still wants that fight but if Sam's gonna be all mature. He glances over to see Sam with some wry smile and a bottomless sadness etched on his face, quickly hidden when he notices Dean looking.

"Yeah, whatever," Sam says and maybe it's his imagination, maybe wishful thinking, but Dean could swear there's longing there, some note that reminds him of years gone by. Back when they still tried to be just brothers.

And it's the way Sam chuckles as he calls Dean "Jerk" that has Dean changing the music, and he's not belting it out but he still sings along with "buckle up baby, it's a bumpy ride, we're two kids hitching down the road of life" and the ache in his heart eases just a little when Sam's hand slides over to brush against his leg.

[o0mochacoffee0o]

Ya’ll @wolfqueen66793 infected me with (platonic) Tails x Kit Brainrot so if you’ll excuse me I’m going to be writing a fanfic now titled “marry you” after the Bruno Mars song.

(…if anyone wants to know my silly brainrot scenarios that have spawned please ask me about it I have so many)

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

me: what a beautiful uplifting song this is, let me look up the lyrics

the song, about the comfort of suicide:

[immoralimmortals]

A Song With Ten Names

Chapter 19: Yes, to Err is Human, So Don't Be One (3)

Chapter 1 ☆ Next chapter ☆ AO3 ☆ Featured song playlist

Summary of chapter: The thicker the water, the more weeds for sirens to hide in. Secrets, secrets, secrets. Their flavor is so delicious to the split plant man.

Author's Note: The sung song in this chapter is Come Along by Cosmo Sheldrake. As before, the title and the chapter breaks are lyrics from Yes, to Err is Human, So Don't Be One by Will Wood.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I could take your life, if you're done with it, sweetheart

You still picking at that? Only ate the good parts

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The woman...is a horrible liar.

In her mind, hiding behind the props around her musical stage are the clarinets, the oboes and the drums. They rise from the cattails, the tall grass and brambly bushes— instruments that either don’t exist here or are simply not available to her. All the same, the symphony is in the stranger’s mind, and that’s enough. This murky atmosphere and the song of lost souls go hand in hand like lovers trying to run away, eloped and gone forever. She remembers, that first day with Hidan, that man in love with another who planned to escape to the land of the stars, who unwittingly snuck her a backstory for this character she’s become.

The promise to live has made the woman forget her promise to not come here without Kakuzu.

The edge of the lake is muckier and rockier the farther she circles to the south end, the farthest from her home she’s abandoned tonight, coming here so foolishly by her lonesome. The moisture of the mud sinks between bare toes, tells her that marshland may near by.

How perfect.

She follows the cattails’ path, walks underneath twisty gnarls of old trees, their branches stretched overhead like gates as she imagines herself stepping into a magical realm. Is she already in one? Doesn’t matter too much. There’s different kinds of magic, and the kind that contains death isn’t really one she wants to dwell on more than necessary.

The intro to this composition is long, and she sings onomatopoeia breathy and dramatic as the instrumental needs, swings her hands and arms and steps in a waltz. Shadows grow taller as she wanders deeper into gloomy perdition; it should terrify her, but danger is familiar. The parasites that accompany such untamed ecosystems don’t intimidate her, even as she leaves her shoes by the clearer water.

The spirit of the trees watches her spin around in her white nightgown, the shape of her visible beneath as moonlight shines through the thin cloth. A few final “bum bum bum”s, and finally she gets to sing. It’s as close as one can get to inviting the ghosts in without your ouija board.

Come along, catch a Heffalump

Sit with me on a muddy clump

We'll sing a song of days gone by

Fireflies are re-imagined as sprites, little chimes as their voices that reply much as bells do in the original song. Dum, dee, dum, dee. Hands stretch to each one like a band's conductor; then fingers pinch their fingers and twist by her wrists, like they're plucking and shaking the fairydust out of the bugs' wings.

Run along now, don’t be glum

Get you gone, now, have some fun

Don't be long, for the end is nigh

Dancing is not something she has done, not in front of the others, but here surrounded by the dank of stagnant water and the thick oxygen of the rooted plants, there is no other choice. She is alone. She gets to be the archetype she’s always wanted to be: the fairy in the forest, the witch of the woods, the siren of the swamp. Change is stirring in the air and it needs a bit of stewing, a bit of time in a watchful magician’s cauldron lest the concoction of time and fate begin to form a scum on the top, like milk does when left alone in a mug for too long. Itachi and Tobi and Kakuzu and Hidan and Kisame, in separate degrees and directions, know her biggest secret and shame. She can finally let go, at least in some sense. She has no calendar on paper but as generations before did, the traveler can still see days pass. The grass is yellowing at the tips and her roses are beginning to wilt. Summer is ending, autumn nearly begun. Her favorite seasons are the ones of change, where the scent in the wind carries another aroma than just heat or cold, where either the perfume of blooms or the rot of dead leaves leave a taste in the back of her mouth just from being outside for a minute or two.

Don't let moments pass along

And waste before your eyes

Winter is her hardest time of the year, and she is afraid, but autumn will make it worth it. The fall will help her prepare for a tumble through the blizzards to come. The ribbon is untied from her hair, held in her hand and swirled around like a flag as locks bounce mussed and free.

March with me and the borogoves

Come with me and the slithy toves

And never ask us why

Autumn is the time of mysteries, whimsies, and magics. That’s why a silly girl is out by her lonesome, asking the life around her to come along, come play where prying eyes can’t see.

She may be a performer, but she is still a horrible liar. The spirit of the trees witnesses her in her folly, raw and vulnerable and so very eager to get lost. He watches her hop and clap and skip in the way one only can when they believe they are truly all alone.

Come, come, come, come, come along now

Run away from the hum-drum

We'll go to a place that is safe from

Greed, anger and boredom

We'll dance and sing till sundown

And feast with abandon

We'll sleep when the morning comes

And we'll rise by the sound of the birdsongs

Perhaps her lack of sleep for these starlit dreams is catching up with her, as with one extra spin she sees a shadow grow over her shoulder, sees the jagged, toothy shapes on the soaked grass ahead begin to crack open like an egg, revealing the shape of a human head. Abruptly, it is known that this is not simply getting herself dizzy.

“AH!”

She trips as she attempts to spin on her heel, and for the third time since they’ve properly met, Zetsu catches her in his arms. His eyes— one complete and one merely a circle— shine like will-o-wisps, like her fireflies that flutter blinking lights around the ankles and knees.

The spirit of the trees smiles ever so softly with half of his face.

“So...you’re a little ghost after all.” Nearly like Tobi did before, she’s kept in this dip, forced to feel herself in his grasp, at his mercy lest gravity take her the rest of the way down. She watches the way that his arms grasp not through his sleeves but the middle of his cloak, like the massive green structure around his skull must go further down his body than just the shoulders. It’s all too staggering for her to have a quip, an explanation more than stuttering “I-I-I-”s. He’s so calm; is he mad?

Wait…

She finds her tongue, the monster’s namesake.

“A...ghost?”

“Yes, of course you are. I can see it now,” White Zetsu speaks more to himself than to her, yellow orbs drinking her in. Then he and the dark one take turns in their revelation:

“The fear.”

“The whimsy.”

“The affinity for death.”

“The desire to live.”

What the heck is he talking about?! The only thing on her mind, now that she can talk, is to try to get herself out of trouble, wiggle out of his hands. “What? What are you— Huh—?” His one full eye crinkles the bottom lid up as he grins. To her horror, it is distinctly in tease.

“You’re not allowed outside alone, you know.”

Electricity shivers down her spine, makes her breath hitch as he looms over her. She tries to counter: “I— I was told so. Kakuzu told me—”

“You misunderstand.” As Black Zetsu speaks, she gives a surprised, questioning hum, still tinged musical. The white one picks it back up: “I don’t mean that you need to prompt someone to go with you, lest you misbehave.” And black delivers the blow, voice so deep it nearly makes her see a scowl on a blank face:

“You are never alone when you step out those doors.”

Holy shit.

The woman swallows, frog from the lake having jumped in her throat, making her eyes wide and boggling like she is one herself. Breathless lips part. Does this mean what she thinks it means?

Beyond shadow of a doubt, the terrible answer is yes.

“Our little ghost,” Zetsu confirms, both voices at once. He knows. He heard everything.

She wants to scream but she can’t. Simultaneously, a black arm wraps around her back possessively, making her unable to so much as squirm. The white hand reaches up, and almost as if he’s never had opportunity to touch another human being, an index finger trails its fingertip from an invisible target ring on her forehead, down the bridge of a nose that should grow in length for each and every lie, down to the lips that release her secrets. Zetsu loves secrets; they’re almost as delicious as the freshly dead.

“...Let’s strike a deal,” the unearthly creature bargains. The scent of pollen wafts around her again, so soft it’s underneath the stank of the swamp, but so distinct she remembers it from the last time Zetsu held her, upside down from a tree.

It isn’t necessary, per say, to hide that she is dead, but Zetsu finds no harm in a bit of playtime. Where would the fun be found if he didn’t find a way to keep every piece of the puzzle under his thumb, have leverage in case it is necessary? Let her believe it changes her fate. Eyebrows furrow underneath haunted wide eyes. Yes, of course she accepts the wager, but what is it she must give in turn?

Zetsu either hasn’t decided yet or is keeping it a secret. His answer is too plain, to cryptic, too charming to be the truth:

“Continue,” he demands, light voice airy like he’s trying to draw out her breath with a spell. “Dance. Sing. With me.”

…

The frog in her throat sinks down to her stomach. Her voice is free. Ironically, the amphibian from the night with Kakuzu is no longer here to sing in her place, to fill the silence. Eyeballs twitching in their sockets evaluate the split man, the greatest mystery of all, in all of this twisty-turny dream. He’s made of stuff from nightmares, yes: stark black and white divided and unreal, character design that screams “carnivore”, the way she can never tell what he’s supposed to mean when he speaks.

But.

But.

What are fairy tales if not making the nonsensical, uncomfortable palatable? With the parting of her lips the deal is struck, as if she has a choice. The stranger sings him her story with no need to pick up from the beginning. He was there for that, and she knows it. She begins stiff at first, voice quiet now that she’s being so intensely scrutinized. Zetsu raises her at a matching, theatrical pace, gradually from dipped to upright, a hand firm upon her back and one placing its fingers delicately under her chin. Blunt teeth peek from half a smile.

The first thing, after all, that the spy admitted about her is how well she does sing.

We'll be here when the world slows down

And the sunbeams fade away

Keeping time by a pendulum

As the fabric starts to fray

These lyrics are truer than she ever realized. Will it be this way, just like that? Just him and her till the end of her time, till the sand in the hourglass tumbles down its last grain? Bi-colored hands loosen once she's back on her own unshoed feet, the black one slipping back into his cloak as the white one begins to tug at the fabric. The stranger watches, evaluates as the monster reveals more of his inhuman body. Even so, even struck with this sight, she must continue:

There’s no such thing as time to kill

Nor time to throw away

This near whisper knows the next part of the melody is louder; if she doesn’t meet the need it presents, it will be obvious. She feels her shoulders rise and fall with a panicked breath she tries to control, waiting as he begins to undress. The red clouds slip to the ground, soaking the damp of the earth. He’s split black and white as far down his torso as remaining clothes allow sight of. In a flex— almost like a stretch, waking up in the morning— the massive leaves fold downward to skirt his waist, his arms now free to do entirely as they please...

They are held forward, palms up and waiting. The diptych man continues to send mixed messages with his face.

...Entirely free for her to take back and perhaps, perchance, pretend that she is in control. A hand of fate and a hand of chance are held in either of her own, and she spins one...

So, once for the bright sky

Two...

Twice for the pig sty

Three times...

Thrice for another day

...As she counts her lives and wonders if maybe she can get one more.

The chorus is given another go, and she attempts to skip and jump and dance with the fae that has never left her side. He's somehow halfway between stiff and melting so very, very easily.

Come, come, come, come, come along now

Run away from the hum-drum

We'll go to a place that is safe from

Greed, anger and boredom

The only retort to such a being is to either play wholeheartedly or not join the game at all; the latter is no longer an option. The performer prays to the gods of night that she may never give him her real name in her sleep, and she swings them around with nothing to lose. He won’t be satisfied by dance alone, surely…

...But part of her enjoys being chased, doesn’t it?

We'll dance and sing till sundown

And feast with abandon

We'll sleep when the morning comes

And we'll rise by the sound of the birdsongs

Clarinets again, just in her head. She must attempt to sound them out, humming and dumming so the split man gets some sort of idea of the waltz with sprites and things undead. Is that her now? Is she undead?

Come with me, catch a rare type specimen

Cuddle up with a hesitant skeleton

We'll break our fast with friends

Once we're fed, we shall disappear rapidly

Many moons to the west of here and happily

Our journey never ends

He whispers again, mouth brushing against her neck as he pulls her close in one of these whimsical steps into the unknown, the tone too uncertain to her ears: “Our little ghost.”

Shut your ears when sirens sing,

Tie armbands to your feet

Midnight honeysuckle’s scent is so thick she’ll smell it on herself for a week. The performer closes her eyes, pretends this is all a dream, and twirls with he that may take it all away. There is one comfort: the dream doesn’t have to end if she doesn’t fall asleep, if she doesn’t have something to wake up from. Perhaps the monster knows this is all she’ll ever want.

Listen up and you won't go wrong again

Float along on a verse-less song and then

Get to where the two ends meet

Perhaps now the monster can feel some semblance of control, over the strange spell the witch casts, the song the siren sings that lure others in. Perchance he is playing too much. Zetsu wonders if her sort of death has a different kind of taste, marinated in pale, moonlit gloom and steeped in the irony of human gods.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hey, whatever works, I'm a cheap date

(Check, please)

Falling off the bone, I'm awful glad we met

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[kiwibirdlafayette]

chaos and balance- the capsize

"i don't think you understand what's actually happening here. If you'd just open your bloody fucking eyes, it's pretty obvious."

Chaos and Balance is a narrative playlist that basically comprises, in a chronological order, my headcanon for the progression of cTom Syndicate and cJordan's relationship through the course of S1, S2, the divorce arc (post-canon part 1), Mianitian Isles and the Aftermath (post-canon part 2, aka Gays on A Boat, Aitheaca, etc.) It started mainly because I really love the potential of using music to tell stories, and how lyrics can be representative of feelings seldom expressed any other way- based on both canon moments, moments I've interpreted as significant to their relationship/overall arcs, and little interludes I've written that take place in between episodes/"off camera" that connect things together in my head. All this being said, it is primarily headcanons, and is purely for fun. dont like dont read lmao

This specific being how keeping in the canon nonsense of capsize x jordan plays a role in cSyndisparklez from my pov :] enjoy!

(Red lyrics are representative of Jordan’s voice, green is Tom! Bolded black is both of them)

The shenanigans of Capsize happen just after falling for the villain,

in which Jordan is forced internally for the first time to come to terms with the fact that yes, he is in love with his friend/enemy/however you wanna put it. Despite how much he annoys him, despite all of his questionable behavior, despite it all, he has fallen head over heels for this absolute bastard of a man, and hates to admit it, but deep down has longed for a kind of affection that he could have.

I'll take my timeI'm not the forward thinker; you read my mind-

But a part of him still remains hesitant, and for one reason or another, refuses to give in, to openly admit it to not just others but himself. It’s at this point (I’ve written in) that Tom’s kissed him twice. The first, just a little peck on the lips he was able to brush off as a joke, just a hahaa ok cool bro that's funny. But the second time, as a cheap play by the zombie to get a purge kill having already caught the Ianitee off guard. It's irritating for sure, to have him weasel his way into free points by taking advantage of a distraction that worked a little too well, but why could he not get it out of his head? It hadn’t felt so wrong, actually, and… he had almost hoped it had been genuine. If it had been genuine, maybe he would have returned the gesture.

Better to leave it unsaidWhy can't I leave it unsaid

Instead they dance around it in banter, blathering on and on to one another in often complete nonsense, refusing to address what’s really on his mind. (You know I talk too much) He could confess, sure. But what happens then? All the meanwhile, Tom is scared he’s losing him. (As I hold your face, I can't find the words I need, and soon the opportunity is drowning)

Never someone all that good with words, he kind of hopes that Jordan will catch on. He has to catch on, sooner or later.. Right?Z

And then Capsize and the Ianitee pirates show up. To Jordan, it seems like she’s interested in him beyond him just being another follower of Ianite, and there’s his escape. Play along, play the part and maybe- maybe he’ll get over this.

You know my type, tightrope across the table I can't keep holding my breath

She seems to be into it. She’s responding to his flirting at least. See. He doesn’t need Tom. An Ianitee and another Ianitee seems more acceptable to him in his head, and maybe would be easier. That about, he’s not really sure.

New wave, no time Red velvet under pressure

But what Jordan does know is that he’s drawn to her. To him, it could be a way to forget about Tom. To the varied onlooker, it could just be that he’s happy to have another Ianitee around. Someone who can relate to his experience, someone who’s out to find their goddess just as much as he wants to. But he continues to conflate the two and pursue her in a way that he won’t realize for years is less than ideal.

It sparks my memory when we parked aside the shore, I kissed you there, the ocean air enchanting It escapes me quickly

Tom on the other hand, is for lack of a better word furious. Not in like a “I’m gonna murder this pirate captain for stealing my man” (because if he’s honest she’s one of the coolest people he’s met and he’s gonna befriend her whether Jordan likes it or not, with him claiming it to be ‘Mr. steal your gal’ which is??? Because does it really seem like he wants Capsize, if not as a spiteful thing)

When Jordan’s not around, Tom and Capsize hit it off, as she finds this zombie who doesn’t want to flirt with her at any given moment a lot more of an interesting person. As a Dianitee, he’s supposed to be their enemy, but for someone so supposedly dedicated to his god, he knows how to carve his own path away from being more than his god’s messenger- something she’s always admired in champions.

You call me poison, but you won't stop coming around- No, you won't stop coming around

For the purpose of perhaps getting Jordan to get the hint, Tom plays into their supposed love triangle, pretending to do things to ‘steal away Capsize’, only feeding into Jordan’s confusion. *Now Tom’s interested in her too? Is he trying to move on from me too? *- clearly to dense to realize Tom’s trying to get his attention back. She even admits to Tom that it's amusing that men seem to keep coming after her, when she’s very much more into women (abridged, but direct quote)

All I want is you- Your violet disposition, My unsound intuition

It all sort of culminates in that moment on Jordan’s ship where Tom, annoyed from his perch, watches his friend make an absolute fool of himself over Capsize, and decides to intervene, taking on the role of “fighting” Jordan over her. Capsize in a way is having a good laugh watching them roll around on the deck of the ship (I’ve drawn this, this is where it all started), starting to see it all sort of come together as to where Jordan could be coming from. At some point, Tom’s got Jordan pinned to the deck, and as one last desperate attempt at trying to communicate what he’s been trying to all along, he kisses Jordan, and much to his surprise, he kisses him back. They pull away, to Capsize’s approving nods, and it's all over.

(Jordan’s attempts at saving this are my interpretation of this conversation, aka one of my favorite chat threads of S1)

In the aftermath of all of that (If I had any semblance of a memory I’d pinpoint when exactly this interlude takes place, but im just ballparking it somewhere after Jordan dies in Tom’s vault bc Capsize doesn’t save him); in which he’s still thinking about what happened that day. Jordan reluctantly confronts Tom who spills it all. He tells him how much and how long he’s been in love with him, and how frustrated it made him that every time he kissed Jordan, Jordan never seemed to reciprocate no matter how obvious his feelings were. He’s tried so hard to make it clear that all he wants is Jordan, he wants to be loved back, he wants to be able to call him his lover. He did what he did in front of Capsize cause the fake ass courting set him over the edge because it pissed him off that Jordan would so quickly go after someone he just met just because she was an Ianitee or whatever to get away from him, because was he really that bad that Jordan had to try to hard to stay away from him? Tom knows he had himself to blame as well, but it felt like a step too far.

Always been looking for something to lose, when I needed something to hold onto.

(This sequence is followed by Pull Me Up, which. If you haven’t seen my CMV that’s the one xD)

Note. For my sanity I choose to perceive that any capsize x jordan moments following are more related to Jordan’s ‘holiest of all Ianitees’ attitude and feeling like he has to be her savior (which is a different aspect of his character arc from the romantic side, which is what I mostly wanted to focus on with this ramble, but i do touch on it a little. It's not as ever present as it could be because I haven’t found the right song to incorporate it into outside of Violet and Talk Too Much) But there is definitely more. This is from what i have notated in my stuff for these two sequences :] enjoy!

[the-herdier]

There was a boy.

A very strange, enchanted boy.

They say he wandered very far.

Very far, over land and sea.

A little shy, and sad of eye...

But very wise was he.

And then one day...

One magic day, he passed my way.

And while we spoke of many things...

Fools and kings...

This, he said to me:

"The greatest thing you'll ever learn,

Is just to love, and be loved in return."

------------------------‐

Listening to this and imagining it's Hob describing a meeting with Dream at the tavern.