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hello-yue-here · 3 years ago

Note

About your atla ship songs, I have a couple of questions (sorry if my phrasing comes out wrong, english isn't my first language and I worry it might across as accidentally defensive): how did you end up with the choices for zukka, jetko and yuekka (note: I haven't seen the great comet, so feel free to obsess over it, I'm intrigued now and the hype is appreciated!)? Sidenote: I think the mailee choice is HILARIOUS and the tokka one just make me sad, I didn't expect to be attacked like this😭

kdjfha;s i love you im gonna obsess SO HARD over great comet now. you may regret this

this is gonna be so long so the rest is under the cut whoops

yuekka: no one else from great comet

where do i even begin. WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN

okay so background information on this show: it's based off of a 76 oages excerpt from war and peace and its centered around a woman named natasha (and this guy pierre but he's irrelevant to this song so we wont worry about him) and natasha's bethrothed is off fighting in the war right now. she hasn't seen him in a while but she is in love with him.

every single lyrics of this song SCREAMS yuekka to me. the innocence and purity of their love. the love at first sight. and even the melancholy ending just- i go apeshit for this song. i love this song so much. and denee benton's voice??? kljsdhflwksugf please listen to this song if you haven't already. listen to the whole show. your life will be changed forever.

onto the lyrics (i stg this is ab to be the whole song whoops)

"the moon"

THOSE ARE THE FIRST WORDS ON THE SONG. natasha and andre (her bethrothed) met underneath the moonlight. Sokka and Yue first spoke to eachother at night and always met each other for their most intimate moments under the moonlight. also yue is LITERALLY the moon so like: right of the bat with those two words it's yuekka.

"and i saw your eyes / and i saw your smile / and the world opened wide"

sokka fell in love with yue the moment he saw her in the canal. she literally enchanted this motherfucker. everything about her made his heart go crazy. and 'the world opened wide' to me is from yue's perspective. Yue had never left the north pole and sokka had seen a good chuck of the world at the point. He took her on appa, he told her about his adventures. he saw the world yue wished to see and you know damn well that Sokka would have done anything to give it to her.

"oh the moon /oh the snow in the moonlight / and your childlike eyes and your distant smile / ill never be this happy again / you and i and no one else"

natasha sings fondly about the moon and the snow, seeing as it was where she fell in love with andre. yue and sokka LITERALLY fell in love in the same place: in the snowy nothern water tribe under the light of the moon. childlike eyes: THEYRE CHILDREN!!! distant smile: this is where it gets a little sad. theyre both children with way too many duties during a world that has known nothing but war for the past century. they want to be happy but yeah, theyre smiles are distant and far away because happiness seems out of reach for them most of the time. i'll never be this happy again: the moments yue and sokka shared together were probably the happiest either of them ever were. they were able to ignore the war and the world in the moments they shared together. and with no one else. no one else would be able to give each other this sense of peace and happiness and love.

"joy and life inside our souls / and no body knows just you and me / it's our secret"

Yue and Sokka had to sneak out in secret at night to go and see each other. Yue and Sokka couldn't be together for real because Yue was already engaged, but they were literally in love so she decided to see him anyways in secret. kasdjfhklasjd im losing my mind over them at this point.

"this winer sky / how can anyone sleep / there was never such a night before / i feel like putting my arms around my knees / and squeezing tight as possible / and flying away"

these are my FAVORITE lines in the entire song. yue and sokka had never felt this strongly about anyone before and that's why they are so drawn to each other. they had never experienced love before and they wanted to hold onto it for as long as they could even though they knew they couldnt. Sokka takes yue up on appa and she is wistful and wishes she could live like he does every day: ie flying away. oh my god these two deserved so much better. so much fucking better.

now for the saddes part. the saddest fucking part.

"maybe he'll come today / maybe he came already / and he's sitting in the drawing room / and i simply forgot"

natasha misses andre so intensely at this point. when i first listened to this show and heard this song i was like "wait a min... is andre like... dead?" and im sure i wasnt the only person who assumed that this was why natasha felt so sad by the end of such a beautiful song. (spoiler alert andre is fine)

but this line really exemplifies how sad natasha is, and hints at the fact that andre may never come back. it implies that their relationship is doomed (at least in my opinion) and that's all yuekka. Sokka misses yue intensely when shes gone. Yue accepted her fate almost immediately but sokka was in denial. he thought there had to be another way. but in the end it wasn't meant to be. and sokka will go on, loving yue, wishing for her back, even though it's not possible.

fuck im gonna cry.

zukka: all i've ever known- hadestown

"i was alone so long / i didn't even know that i was lonely / out in the cold so long / i didnt even know that i was cold"

sokka is from the swt so theres where the cold comes in. also in the gaang (initially) it was just him katara and aang. and katara and aang were much closer to each other than sokka was with aang and the two of them were benders so sokka was kind of an outsider with the two of them. He also represses a lot of his emotions and feels the need to do everything himself so i do see a lot of loneliness in sokka. and the fact that so many people in his life have left him (his mom, yue, his dad, suki briefly, etc...) he is known to keep people at an arms length. i see a lot of loneliness in sokka.

zuko's loneliness is a lot more obvious: he has literally been cast out and abandoned by everyone except iroh. and even then he still feels the need to be alone (remember zuko alone? thought so) these boys look after themselves and push others away and revel in their loneliness in order to keep themselves from getting hurt. at least in my opinion on canon and also some fanon because id be a liar if i said fanon didnt influence how i view ALL my ships (not just zukka)

"all ive ever known is how to hold my own / but now I wanna hold you too"

COME ONE MANNNN, they just wanna hold each other. theyre both very big protectors as well and kljhflkasdhg they wanna protect eachother like kljdhfl im gonna lose it rn.

"You take me in your arms / And suddenly there's sunlight all around me / Everything bright and warm / And shining like it never did before / And for a moment I forget / Just how dark and cold it gets"

SUNLIGHT SYMBOLISM. zuko is literally powered by the sun. i don't think i even NEED to elaborate on this one anymore lol. They find comfort in each other away from all of their trauma. when they're together nothing else matters and i personally love that for them. they both deserve love.

"I knew you before we met / And I don't even know you yet / All I know is your someone I have always known"

these two are extremely similar in canon. many parallels. older brothers overshadowed by their prodigy little sisters. longing to make their fathers proud (granted one dad is good and one is fuckin evil), both are pretty bad with emotions. both are seen protecting others before themselves (sokka protecting suki during the serpant's pass, sokka protecting toph on like multiple occassions, zuko protecting katara in the final agni kai), the list goes on. they know who the other is because they see themselves in the other person. they already know each other because they are each other (in a way, not entirely, but the similarities are strong in my opinion)

"I'm gonna hold you forever / The wind will never change on us / Long as we stay with each other / Then it will always be like this"

i just think this line is so cute and sweet (ignoring all the symbolism and foreshadowing that comes with the last line in the musical itself. im gonna pretend this is nothing but happy) and i think these boys deserve happiness so yeah. this song is zukka to me lol.

jetko: thrill of first love- falsettoes

if you've never listened to this song go an do it now. you will know INSTANTLY that it is jetko because of the dynamics alone. marvin and whizzer are pure jetko and i take no crticisms.

marvin and whizzer are both extremely stubborn, and they don't always get along, and they fight a lot, and they get mad at each other a lot, and they are both passionate as hell, and they will bring this passion into everything. they love each other that is without a doubt, but they arent perfect and they are once again stubborn and determined as fuck.

sound familiar? it's literally jetko.

the lyrics aren't what remind me of jetko, but the dynamic itself. the lyrics are too on the nose for a gay couple in 1970's america so that rlly cant apply to jetko all that much. but the way these two characters bounce off of each other and get annoyed with each other and argue with eachother reminds me of jetko. because let's be honest: these two are the most stubborn characters in the whole show. they will fight for what they believe and it will take literally everything to change their minds.

i love jetko but i think they would have petty arguments all the time and get aggravated by one another so easily. and this is even seen in canon: they work so fucking well together but they did not even HESITATE to fight one another after neither of them would give in and let the fight about whether jet was right or wrong about zuko being a firebender. like i cannot say it enough they are stubborn as fuck.

but underneath all that stubborn pettiness and bickering: marvin and whizzer still love each other. and jet and zuko would still love each other. because even though they are stubborn when it comes to arguments, they are even more stubborn and determined when it comes to each other. these two passionate motherfuckers are in love.

(now when i chose this song i decided to ignore the fact that this song literally spells out the fact that marvin and whizzer's relatinoship is doomed because they literally say passion dies. thats the difference between jetko and whizzer and marvin because i dont think passion dies. i chose this song strictly for the bickering lmao)

and i know you didnt ask about tokka but,,,,

i rlly wanna talk about the tokka one

so im going to

tokka: on my own- les mis

look. i KNOW this song is about unrequited love and i love tokka as a couple but,,, the unrequited love in this song just SCREAMS unrequited tokka to me so thats what i went with.

eponine is a girl who has neglectful parents who lives life by her own rules: toph. eponine is shown to be tough and confident and spunky to others but behind all of that she has emotions, she feels love, she hides her vulnerability so much: toph. she is in love with a guy she cant be with because he loves someone else: TOPH

eponine is toph to a t and toph is eponine to a t. this is not up for debate lmao

"without him i feel his arms around me"

toph is always seen grabbing onto someone (and its almost ALWAYS sokka) when she's somewhere where she can't use her feet to see. FEEL and ARMS cmon. look at it.

"and i know / i know that he is blind"

COME ON. IMAGINE TOPH SINGING THIS LINE. this line is already powerful enough in les mis but having toph, a blind character, sing it just makes the symbolism even deeper. toph sees the potential relationship they could have together. toph sees that sokka is oblivious to this. toph is not blind to the truth or the potention, but sokka is blind to her feelings. im about to lose my mind over this line.

"I love him / But every day I'm learning / All my life / I've only been pretending / Without me / His world will go on turning / A world that's full of happiness / That I have never known"

i need to sit down for a moment. toph grew up in a household where her parents did not understand her. she has learned to hide her true emotions and vulnerabilities from everyone. and its the fact that toph knows that she and sokka will never be together and the fact that she still loves him in spite of that is what makes this even more heartbreaking.

"but only on my own"

TOPH AND EPONINE SWEETIES I LOVE YOU

thank you for indulging my theatre kid nonsense. you are very sweet and kind and lovely and awesome and i hope you have a lovely day bestie :) <3

ask me why i think these songs go with these ships

#asks #liv is a theatre nerd #liv is an atla nerd #yuekka #zukka #jetko #tokka #ask me about my ship songs

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itskyleeyo · 3 years ago

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hadestown brain dump (songs)

SPOILERS FOR HADESTOWN/THE STORY OF ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE

ok so it may have been more than a few days, but what're you gonna do about it?

so i wanted to do another brain dump, and i wanted to listen to hadestown, so i'm doing a song by song brain dump as i go along. this means that my thoughts are going to be even more stream-of-consciousness style (if that's even possible.) also i'm talking specifically about the original broadway cast recording bc i haven't listened to any other version. (also this was completed across multiple months so it is even more chaotic lmao).

also i highly recommend that you listen to the musical and/or pull up the lyrics as you go along! enjoy!

road to hell. the way andre brings in the chorus is flawless please. also the way that hermes is both a narrator and a character in the story he's narrating? beautiful. "the king of the mine." he sounds so nice here for some reason. also love his self-introduction "maybe it will turn out this time" no it won't but thank you for trying. also breaking the fourth wall to acknowledge the chorus and crew is so nice, here comes reeve ;) mans sounds like an angel. you can hear amber's voice stick out of the chorus and i literally love it so much. i'd die for amber gray but we'll get to that later.

any way the wind blows. the fates literally sound so perfect together. Eva's intro throws me off every time, she sounds so pretty. dear god the harmonies with the fates hit so different. can this cast please narrate my life? there's the wind comparisons ;D the "ooos" are so good. "and it ain't because i'm kind" idk i just like how andre sounds here. oh and the funny behind "so i took him underneath my wing" because hermes has wings on his helmet and shoes.

come home with me. orpheus is so oblivious but i love it. also eurydice is literally such a mood. the wordplay with "come again". the "oh, he's crazy" is my favorite part of the whole song. also eva's voice acting is so good.

wedding song. the way she says "lover"? my ass cannot handle this. eva sounds so smug in the beginning of this song and i love it. "sing the song ;)" eurydice is so fantastic. the chorus of "la" is so pretty. eva joining in during the end is just. so perfect.

epic i. hell yeah introduce the king and queen (both literally and figuratively). reeve's falsetto <3 the way orpheus looks to hermes for approval throughout the musical. hermes narrating over orpheus singing.

livin' it up on top. HELL YES THE QUEEN HAS ARRIVED. i love amber gray so much. the gravel and the rasp. please step on me. also i love the idea of persephone being the wine aunt, especially because media usually portrays her as soft and breakable. the way she says "haaard". the way the music gets more upbeat and energetic when hermes says "the world came back to liiife!" the instrumental/dance? break is so good. please kill me with that trumpet good sir. the leadup to when amber starts singing again. orpheus really knows how to give a speech. "i will ;)" amber please step on me i am not joking.

all i've ever known (intro). thank you for the intro king. the music is so pretty. the way it picks up with the piano part <3

all i've ever known. eva sounds so pretty dear god. yay more wind references! the wordplay with "hold". and also the references to hot and cold throughout the musical. "i don't wanna ever have to let you go." lol ironic because she ends up going with hades. "i knew you before we met, and i don't even know you yet." the fucking wordplay. like holy shit. the "love at first sight" feelings. this line gets me every damn time. the wordplay from 2:10 - 2:38 is so fucking incredible. i lose it every time istg. the instrumental portion is so pretty. the wind! "we'll always be like this" i fucking love irony so much. its so underrated and adds so many layers to the story.

way down hadestown. amber gray. that's it. "you either get to hell or to hadestown, ain't no difference anymore". i fucking love this line so much. not really sure why but the delivery is perfect. also the whole thing with it being a train? i love that so much. all the allusions and comparisons they can make are fantastic. more amber gray appreciation. and ofc. the fates. more fantastic instrumental breaks. "and you better forget about your wishing well." this line is so good but so sad because its literally persephone saying that "hey, fair warning, life is shit down there" and i feel bad for her. like the way she's super sassy and shit, but just stops singing when hades gets there, you can tell that she's definitely not ok. speaking of hades, holy shit patrick page. sounds so fucking fantastic. thank you for existing good sir. eva with the breathtaking single lines. and eva's voice standing out when she sings "ground".

a gathering storm. the constant references to weather and nature throughout the whole musical. eurydice with the common sense. the wind again! "did you hear me, orpheus?" he did not, in fact, hear her.

epic ii. the different names for hades in each epic make me so happy. hades thoughts: "i think my wife might not come back cause i'm super controlling. whatever shall i do? oh, i know! be even more controlling!" lmao dumbass motherfucker. that might not work out so well. i fucking love the transition into "chant" so much.

chant. this is one of my favorite songs from the musical. the wordplay within the entire song is so fucking fantastic. hades singing about desire and then orpheus singing the "song of love" was definitely done on purpose and i'm living for it. every single one of eva's lines make me emotional. ma'am why are you good at everything?? the band! more weather references! patrick page singing "lover" hits different. orpheus singing about hades and persephone being blind and deaf. lmao irony because he's not paying attention to anything around him. the wind! weather! "the song of love" is what brought orpheus and eurydice together, but orpheus' devotion to finishing it is what drives eurydice to hades. "did you think i'd be impressed" i was right ;) it didn't work out so well.

hey, little songbird. the strings <3 patrick page is a god (lol i'm so funny). how does he manage to make manipulation sound so good? bird references! the vocal contrast! eva's voice has this kind of "innocence" to it. especially compared to patrick. not sure if that's on purpose or not, but i love it. also the low note kills me every time. the octave jumps between patrick and eva's voices is just. ugh. and also eva's entire second verse is so fucking good. the emotion she portrays in her voice is so spectacular. seriously hades with the manipulation is so interesting and its so good. (manipulation is not a good thing i just mean that its done so well in the show. do not manipulate people!)

when the chips are down (intro). "your ticket ;)" yes pls sir i'll take a ticket cause life sucks ass.

when the chips are down. i fucking love the fates dear god. gambling references! eva has literally one line and still owns my heart. the band! "shoot to kill" sounds so good like i love it so much pls. also this fucking line "cast your eyes to heaven, you get a knife in the back" is so good. i'm gonna have to get into quite a few lines throughout the musical in a different brain dump because i have so much thought.

gone, i'm gone. darling eurydice. its not your fault that you're starving stop apologizing. "talk of sin" lol she do be going to hell. that's funny. the harmonies.

wait for me (intro). the piano. heremes trying to change the subject hurts my heart. and orpheus' reaction is so sad please. "no.." just rip my fucking heart out, why don't you?

wait for me. the transition. andre coming in clutch with the narration. reeve sounds wonderful, as always. the fucking fates. just kill me already. they literally sound so good. the strings' build up between the "la"s. the chorus. the buildup at the end.

why we build the wall. the total 180 in the vibes. call and response has a special pace in my heart. mr page killing it again. god, hades is such a piece of shit and its perfect. he really is a master manipulator. fuck capitalism. the chorus sounds so good. i want to platonically smooch all of them. jesus fucking christ burn capitalism to the ground. the end is amazing. also the not-so-subtle references to slavery/forced labor.

why we build the wall (outro). i'd die for andre. "anybody want a drink?" yes ma'am. yes please. (don't drink, kids) i love you so much.

our lady of the underground. its so jazzy! jesus fucking christ. oh my fucking god. i would literally sell my soul for amber gray. what did we ever do to deserve her? god the raspiness fucking kills me. also love that she breaks the fourth wall to acknowledge the band. when she comes back in after the instrumental break? consider me dead. "what the boss don't know, the boss won't mind" she sounds so good here. also i love that she straight up doesn't give a fuck about hades here.

way down hadestown (reprise). hell yeah i love reprises. the fates. andre. the chorus. i love them all. i'm such a whore for reoccurring lyrics. the strings! fuck capitalism! eva's emotions are just so fucking good. "you've already forgot?" holy shit. this shit hurted. the "ahh ooh"s are so good.

flowers. the intro <3. eva sounds so pretty. the fucking symbolism in this song is incredible. i'm gonna get into this in another brain dump bc it's a very sensitive topic. the fact that she can't actually fully remember orpheus makes me so sad. so pretty <3

come home with me (reprise). hell yeah another reprise. the way the music is much more upbeat when orpheus shows up. their excitement! eva's vocal emotions are literally so fantastic pls.

papers (intro). "young mannn" kill me patrick. train references! hell yeah persephone. the way andre gets louder when he says "raised up his voice." eva <3. reeve just always sounds so pretty. ohmygod the laugh. kill me good sir. mans straight up admits to owning people and is like "it's cool tho cause they signed a piece of paper. def not taking advantage of people that are literally starving or anything. it's fine." fuck you hades. go step on a fucking lego. orpheus is so sad :(

papers (instrumental). yes. sounds so good. i'm imagining an epic chase scene. the transition into nothing changes <3

nothing changes. respectfully? the fates could kill me any day and i'd thank them. the weather reference! that "anyhow" is so fucking good istg.

if it's true. another one of my favorites. pop off intro. the broken "is this how the world is?" sadly, yes. "but everybody knows that walls have ears." is literally such a powerful line to me for some reason. it does a great job of bringing in the chorus. and by calling the workers "walls" it shows that hades views them as "less than." they aren't even referred to as people. "what's the use of his backbone if he never stands upright." oh my god. because they literally cannot stand upright. anais mitchell is literally a fucking genius. fuck the 1%. gambling references! the chorus backing him is just so pretty. the way orpheus looks to the chorus for advice and support. "we're standing." ugh its so good.

how long. oh my fucking god. amber fucking gray. (that's it, that's the post). the way she sounds resigned/disappointed when she says "i've had enough" makes me so sad. there are no words to describe how i feel about 0:25 - 0:41. like their relationship is strained, and super mega fucked up, but it's obvious that they still care about one another. the emotion in their voices throughout this song is fantastic. the play on light and dark. also more bird references! how they view themselves/their self importance. hades is a most importantly king. persephone is most importantly a wife. it really show that hades views power as more important than anything else. "nothing comes of the songs people sing." holy fucking shit. cause their song is the "song of love," but they can barely stand each other and their relationship has fallen apart. persephone commenting on his love of power over his love of her. amber's voice during "the earth must die" is so nice and for what? god i love her. they sound so nice together <3

chant (reprise). another favorite hehe. the strings! it's all just so pretty. when the piano comes in i die a little. the self realization coming from the chorus when they're like "oh shit, this is wrong. i don't deserve to be treated like this." is so fucking fantastic. the "young mannn" again! hades really be like "manipulate her! make her depend on you financially! i've been ding this a while kid! i know how to successfully control women!" reeve sounds so pretty pls. the way that eurydice has basically become part of the chorus (since she's just another worker now). more self realization! the different ways that hades and orpheus view the "song of love." "sing before i kill you so i can use it to manipulate my wife and make her feel like shit." patrick's voice tho.

epic iii. reeve coming in with that falsetto like nobody's business. orpheus really about to bite you in the ass with your own damn song. amber gray <3. the "ooo"s in the background. the way the music picks up when reeve gets to the "la"s. it's just so fucking good. that falsetto again. orpheus really looked at the king of hell, a literal god, and said "i want to ruin him psychologically" and it fucking worked. which is some of my favorite irony because hades wouldn't have shit if it weren't for that fact that he's a good manipulator and takes advantage of the needy. that last line <3

epic iii (instrumental). i have no words for how fucking beautiful this is. i so desperately want an extended version. like for real love this so much. if i get married, i want this to be the song for the first dance.

promises. eurydice is so proud of him for finishing. the way that eurydice realized that she cares about him more that material objects. wind and weather references! "if we can do it so can they!" she sounds so excited. :( "hand-in-hand" lol nope. not them refencing wedding song, anyway the wind blows, and then giving their "i do"s. absolutely heart wrenching.

word to the wise. the fates. pls step on me ladies. the lyrics throughout this are so fucking good. lol hades being damned. cause he's the king of hell. honestly its solid advice tho. humans are really fucking stupid.

his kiss, the riot. give us them adjectives king. " how dare people want rights! >:(" hades is really trying to make himself the good guy rn. the music! 2:15 - 3:03 is so good pls. the lyrics are just so spectacular.

wait for me (reprise) (intro). hello again andre! hermes literally says "he's trying to psych you out and manipulate you. he wants you to doubt everything" and orpheus says "are you sure tho?" and then procedes to doubt everything. the way the music changes is <3. the song transition.

wait for me (reprise). my absolute fucking favorite song in this musical. the first fucking lyric is so good. it really sets an expectation for the song and i am not disappointed. lyrics that talk about how fucked up any single person's brain is are so fucking cool to me. god i love this song. how soft the first set of "wait for me"s are. the support/pressure from the chorus. the entire exchange between hades and persephone. the way amber's voice sticks out of the chorus. the fates coming in clutch again. train references! more brain talk! amber gray please end me. eva sounds so pretty. and the final note is so good!

doubt comes in. the long intro that builds up suspense. the first time that orpheus's "la"s aren't echoed by the chorus/music. wind! weather! the fates sound so pretty like always. reeve genuinely sounds so scared. the way the music picks up and the chorus joins in when eurydice starts singing. the music is so unsettling and i love it. god i love his voice. 3:44 - 3:57 always hits so different. you realize just how much she means to him. how it all goes to shit when the music reaches the climax. the fact that the music clashes on purpose. the sadness in their voices.

road to hell (reprise). it all comes full circle. god andre sounds so sad. the way you come to really hear the lyrics because there's no upbeat music to distract you this time, "its a tragedy" lol because the actual written story is a tragedy. "i learned that from a friend of mine" poor orpheus :(. the way the chorus slowly joins in and the music slowly picks up. the "can you feel it" is literally so fucking powerful. fuck yes amber. fuck it up queen. amber and eva sound so nice together. the "its a love song, its a sad song" is so sad. the final lyric is just. ugh.

we raise our cups. yes pls amber. this song is so pretty. good night queen.

#hadestown #eva noblezada #reeve carney #the fates #orpheus #eurydice #brain dump #hadestown brain dump #patrick page #hades #amber gray #persephone #hadestown musical

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faerytale-au · 4 years ago

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A Darkness Lingers Pt.2

Word Count: 6,750 Fourth Prompt Place: During and After “Promises and Tokens” Rating: M TW: Mentions of Past Abuse Cross Posted Here Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Instead of crying or letting the hurt get to her she chose to sit on the couch, and before she knew it she was being called. “FRISK?”

She jerked in place, snapping from the daze she’d been unknowingly aiming at the wall. Forcing a smile she glanced up at Papyrus, a curious tilt of her head somehow only deepening the uncharacteristic frown on his face.

“YOUR MAGIC IS ALL OVER THE PLACE, IS SOMETHING WRONG?” Instead of answering she flicked her eyes over to the front door. Papyrus followed the look before letting out a deep sigh.

Papyrus smiled as he took a seat beside her. “IF YOU NEED TO TALK YOU KNOW I AM A VERY DILIGENT LISTENER MY DEAR SISTER.”

Like he wanted the gentle use of her new title made her smile more genuine. He could see a fragment of the tension ease from her shoulders as she looked down at the ruby ring on her hand, a concentrated furrow of her brows making his smile nearly falter.

“Were you…” She paused thoughtfully. “Do you miss your dad?”

Papyrus didn’t move, didn’t so much as breathe as he looked at her. After a moment his hands, resting unassuming on his knees, curled into tight fists even as the rest of him remained loose and relaxed in appearance.

His tone fought to keep it’s cheerful inflection. “SOMETIMES!”

And then it was hard to keep his voice steady. “Other times…”

Frisk watched as Papyrus glanced away from her, his teeth pressing together firmly as his sockets dipped with a softness she couldn’t decide on being sadness or affection. When he spoke he still kept his gaze averted, locked on a bit of peeling wallpaper he hadn’t noticed before.

Redecorating was definitely on the agenda.

“Truth Be Told...I Don’t Really Remember My Father Too Well. If There’s Anyone Who I’d Worry About Missing Him, It’d Be Sans.”

Frisk didn’t comment, and Papyrus looked back over with a timid smile. “They Were Really Close. Well Maybe Close Isn’t Right...They Both Had A Habit Of Acting Close But Being Distant. Only When They Told Me Stories Of Mom Did They Seem...Not Far Apart.”

“Sans hasn’t ever mentioned your mother.” Frisk frowned curiously. She was sure he hadn’t, trying to think over their many conversations she couldn’t even recall a moment where he might’ve hinted at her.

Papyrus chuckled so quietly she could’ve almost mistaken the laughter for Sans’s. “I’m Not Surprised. Her Passing Was Always A Sensitive Subject.”

Frisk hesitated but decided to risk asking. “What happened?”

Like a switch had been flipped a haunted look flew over the Seelie’s expression, Papyrus’s sockets dulling and turning a shade darker than she knew they could ever go. He shut them and in a very high falsetto he forced his words out.

“I Killed Her.”

Frisk thought her heart stopped.

“Her Soul Shattered While Giving Life To Me.” All she could do was stare at the floor. Frisk couldn’t think of what to say, what reassurances to give. How do you comfort someone when you hadn’t the first clue as to how they were feeling?

“I’m sorry you lost her like that…but it wasn’t your fault at all Papyrus.”

“HMM MY BROTHER OFTEN TELLS ME THE SAME THING. AND WHILE IT MAY BE TRUE...That Doesn’t Change My Personal Feelings On The Matter. IT’S JUST SOMETHING I’VE LEARNED TO DEAL WITH.” Frisk had to blink back the tears that wanted to fall from her eyes. Papyrus always seemed so cheerful and upbeat, she never would have guessed he held such pain close to his heart.

“Why do you think that?”

Here Papyrus hesitated. “Because...I’m Certain If She Hadn’t Died Our Father Would’ve Never Went Down The Path He Did…Our Lives Would Be Very Different.”

He sounded oddly like her; if she had tried harder to be good maybe dad would have loved her, if she had been a little more quiet, more invisible, maybe her mother would have cared. Maybe Frisk’s life could have been different from what it was now. They were thoughts she used to have constantly and that sometimes still plagued her at night.

Frisk didn’t like hearing something so similar coming from Papyrus.

She didn’t know what to say. Why did she never know what to say?

“Would you be happy...having your father back?”

Papyrus looked thoughtful, his expression scrunched in concentration as he thought on Frisk’s question with the most honesty he could give. He eventually shook his head and let out a huff of air.

“I’M NOT SURE. BUT I THINK SANS WOULD. STUBBORN TO ADMIT IT HE MAY BE. BUT THE PAST IS THE PAST THERE’S NO CHANGING THAT, IT’S SOMETHING WE HAVE TO ACCEPT.”

And little did he know Papyrus had just made a decision for her. Maybe...she could repay them both by offering what she had never had herself back in her world.

“Thank you Papyrus. Talking helped.” They both looked at each other in a soft and comfortable silence, his sockets taking on a less darkened hue as he unclenched his fists.

He pulled her into an unexpected hug. “ANYTIME!”

Frisk stiffened on instinct, her expression becoming awash with shock before she slowly smiled and hugged him back. Papyrus was the greatest Seelie she knew next to her husband, and he deserved everything, they both did.

Sans barely saw the grove in front of him from the ring of mushrooms; his mind was wandering and his sockets were bottomless pits. He hadn’t wanted to leave Frisk the way he had, he already felt so guilty over it, but he...couldn’t take another second talking about his old man.

It was a given he would’ve had to tell Frisk eventually. But he had wanted to do it on his own time and terms, he hadn’t wanted the reason to be because the Unseelie was plotting something.

Sans had wanted to live with Frisk in ignorance for just a bit longer.

Now all he could think about was not only how to explain his other job to his wife, but what preparations he’d have to take to prevent whatever drawback Gaster’s sudden activity would cause.

He was silently cursing himself, he was usually better prepared than this.

“Your foolish fancies will get you into trouble one day.”

The last time he’d seen Gaster in person...

How long had it been exactly? Sans couldn’t remember. He hadn’t tried too, in fact he’d gone out of his way not to think about him. But now alone and sitting with nothing to distract him his thoughts took over...the memories he’d long repressed surfaced.

He could remember vividly how angry and hurt his father had been, the way he had sounded when he’d spoken in a voice not entirely his own to condemn Gaster for what he knew was the greater good, and how broken that had made both him and his still very young and impressionable brother.

Papyrus had suffered from nightmares for years after witnessing the fight that had broken out, Sans still suffered from them on occasion with flashbacks to boot, but he handled them better now and as far as he knew Papyrus didn’t even have them anymore.

But that didn’t mean the wounds were no longer there.

Sans shut his sockets, and all he could see was how Gaster’s gaze had turned vicious and loathing when Sans had told him he was selfish. Gaster’s shock when he’d accused his old man of loving only himself without regard to his family and those around him.

Gaster had been many things...always cold, standoffish, hard to relate too. But even then Sans had known in his youth, his father had been different deep down. He had been kind, patient, and always full of a tame but strong energy that he had little doubt wasn’t where Papyrus got his own wild flame from.

Papyrus ironically took after the old bones, both of them had difficulties socially, both of them had more to them than others typically saw or bothered to look for. Sans was sure if Gaster had been there for all the years he missed, he would’ve likely loosened up and been softer, Papyrus too would have learned more decorum.

It wasn’t hard to imagine.

At least with how Gaster had been before...

There wasn’t a night where Sans hadn’t questioned if he’d done the right thing. A day where he wondered where everything had gone wrong. And Frisk had reminded him of that so painfully he had almost snapped.

He couldn’t...handle admitting his doubts.

Gaster had been his first Unseelie case, and he could still remember being horrified as his father had morphed from the corruption right in front of him and Papyrus both. His little brother in tears as Gaster’s arms had melted and evaporated away leaving behind nothing but floating hands and how his face had grotesquely cracked in a bone rattling snarl.

His father hadn’t even looked like himself anymore.

It had been too much for such a young child to see, it had been to much for himself, and it had been traumatizing in how it had made Sans wonder if he’d look like that if he ever let his own darkness take over. If Papyrus…

Sans had hated Gaster in that moment.

It had killed a part of Sans when he’d flung him through the Unseelie gate; his soul threatening to fracture under the sorrow he’d felt at the shock and surprise in his father’s gaze right before the doors had slammed shut behind him, it had also been relieving.

But Gaster had stopped caring, had stopped being the Seelie he and Paps had once so admired. He’d been a fae dedicated to family, a Seelie sought after not only for his dedicated work ethic but also for his wit when it came to negotiating and deal making.

Gaster had been the very image of their society, no less than the Queen herself.

So his darkness as it had consumed him had been not only a blow to Sans and his sibling but to their world as a whole. There wasn’t a soul alive that didn’t know about the Seelie’s fall from grace, that didn’t get told of Gaster not as someone to idolize but as a cautionary tale.

The day he’d emerged from his lab donning that haunting eye piece, his eyelight wide and pulsing with a silent victory Sans had felt sick, could tell something was off. He’d seemed so mad, entirely out of his skull with knowledge and insidious intent that had made it hard for Sans to even breathe.

Could he have done something then?

If he had tried, could he have kept Gaster on the right path?

But more than anything Sans now silently wondered...why after all this time? Why appear now and go after Frisk? Gaster never pursued anything unless it had been to his benefit or to that of his ambition.

A protective anger flared in Sans’s soul.

Was it revenge? A way to escape? As much as Sans tried he couldn’t think of a valid reason or guess the intent behind his father’s sudden interest. If he didn’t already know the drawback to going into the Unseelie realm Sans would’ve been there already confronting the other.

He refused to let Gaster ruin anything else with his greed.

A small stinging sensation tugged at Sans’s chest, pulling him from his thoughts as his eyelights came back with a harsh flare.

He clutched at his chest with a frown before pulling back his sleeve to stare down at his wedding bracelet. The moonstones along the back of it were lit up a furious red, oscillating between different shades and tones, but all meaning the same thing.

An image, sheer and thin like looking through lace flashed in his mind.

Golden doors, a hesitant step...

Frisk was before one of the gates...an Unseelie gate.

Sans felt his soul quiver, the magic between his joints tightening in panic as sweat coated his skull. She was trying to not only leave the realm but to open a gate to the corrupted fae? A possibility so logical and most likely true made him sick.

She had said she wanted to help Gaster.

Had he messed up?

Again?

Sans never should’ve been harsh to her that morning, he had never acted that way with her before, of course he would’ve upset her. Of course she’d rebel against him when he was so out of character with her.

Panic, thick and unrelentingly harsh overcame him.

He was back through the gate and rushing to shortcut in a single breath as guilt and worry shot a bolt of ice down his spine.

He prayed he wasn’t too late.

Frisk was uncertain as she stood at the abandoned post, her mouth dry and chest heaving with thick breaths. She already knew Gaster was standing on the other side, waiting. His presence she could feel like a weight on her chest.

He’d known she’d show hadn’t he?

She swallowed thickly, she didn’t know if she could even open the gate, but she was more than sure if she did not only would Sans know, but every Seelie in the realm would too.

A glance up at the thick bells hanging ominously above her made her heart give a painful skip in her chest. There were so many it felt like, but in reality only six stood guard, three to either side of the arch overhanging the entrance. All wide enough that Frisk imagined if one were to fall it could encompass a whole village in it’s depths.

Her eyes drifted down to a pair of hand prints embedded within the golden doors, one on each side of the doors seam. The tiny indentations were like specks to it’s immense stature but Frisk could feel the powerful magic swirling out from them like a hot breeze, coiling and calling with a phantom caress.

She shut her eyes as she tried to get her breathing under control.

“Second thoughts?” Frisk’s eyes snapped open and she frowned as she looked down at her hands, wispy sparks of muted fire tracing along her palms and fingers, as if her magic was trying to soothe her.

“I...need your word.”

Gaster was silent, but soon his voice was echoing in her mind again. “Has my son not taught you the dangers of an Unseelie deal?”

Frisk clenched her hands and let them fall to her sides as she stared ahead, her eyes boring into the door as if she could see Gaster just behind it smirking at her. But she refused to let his words antagonize her.

This was a front for him, she felt it in her soul, she’d seen there was more to him.

“He has, but I’m willing to bet you would never truly harm those you call family.” She couldn’t see him, but the sudden thickening of the air around her told of his annoyance...and his power. If he could cause such such a shift locked in another realm there was no doubt he could cause unfathomable damage when present. She wanted to believe in him, truly she did, but she wasn’t naive enough to overlook his taint.

“...What do you ask of me?”

“I know better than that Gaster, I know how deals work, your word or I walk away.”

There was a long stretch of silence.

“...Place one hand to the door…” Nervousness made a knot form in Frisk’s stomach but she managed to take another step forward, careful to avoid touching the spot her hand was to rest when opening the gate she pressed her palm flat and firmly to the smooth surface.

Warmth and chill mixed, curling like ghostly tendrils through the thick door to wrap her fingers and wrist. It stung, burned her flesh enough that she hissed painfully. It had never felt like this when she’d made a deal before; like her hand was slowly blistered and then quickly dunked into freezing water.

His magic was this potent?

“For my freedom, voice your request.”

Her heart hammering Frisk spoke slowly, “You are not to bring harm or death to a single soul in this realm.”

The air became suffocating, laced with bitterness and fury so engulfing Frisk covered her mouth and nose to keep from choking on the suddenly foul air. The magic binding her hand nearly had her knees give out with how intensely it constricted around her.

She’d angered him, but just as quickly as that anger had come it just as quickly soothed and withdrew. The overpowering feeling in her arm was still there but had gone down to a dulled throb.

“...Is that all you demand?” The curious tone in his voice had her shoulders hunching suspiciously.

She took a second to think over her words and was sure there were no loopholes or room for him to betray their deal, but she was still learning. Hesitantly she chose to say something else instead of trying to add to her conditions, something told her she needed to.

“That’s all I ask of you...as family.”

For a moment it felt as if Gaster had softened, something warm and yet sad filling the bond being manifested between them. If she could see him, she’d have seen how haunted he looked, how empty and bitter he was.

Gaster was to be denied even his vengeance.

...For family…

How manipulative, and thoughtful.

“I see now just how perfect for my son you are.”

Frisk wasn’t given the chance to respond as an acidic burn of pain shot up her arm and straight into her chest, sending her vision tunneling as her soul was constricted and squeezed in the onslaught of a corrupted deal struck.

Gaster felt her try to topple but his magic still scorching itself in an unseen contract kept her up and firmly on her feet. He couldn’t help the smirk on his face. The repercussions and consequences from what she’d just done caused her to suffer, which pleased the darkness in his soul.

It was just punishment for the rules she’d just imposed on him.

When he could sense the tie on her being firmly in place he released her.

Frisk crumpled, fell painfully to her knees, and tried to keep her balance by resting her hands and forehead against the doors where she panted as if she’d just ran a marathon. In all her years she’d never felt something so nasty and horrible as what had just happened.

It was almost as if she’d dirtied herself…

“Quickly now, I highly doubt my eldest didn’t feel the violation to your soul.”

Violation?

She must’ve said it out loud because Gaster answered, “An unfortunate side effect. I can explain more after you hold up your end to our agreement.”

Swallowing down what felt like cotton Frisk pushed shakily to her feet and narrowed her eyes at the door’s seal. Taking another deep breath she moved her hands into the imprinted grooves and let out a gasp as her palms settled almost perfectly into them.

A cool breeze, comforting and warm wrapped around her as her magic flared to engulf her hands and rapidly climb her body. Flames that didn’t burn or singe flowed around her and flared into a fiery typhoon, whipping her clothing and hair as if she was caught in a hurricane.

“That’s it! Focus Frisk.” Gaster’s encouraging call echoed.

She squeezed her eyes shut as they began to burn, tears running from their corners only to be lifted into the air in a bizarre loss of gravity. The air distorted and bent, a heatwave or time magic rapidly grew the grass at her feet and wilted it before reverting it rapidly to a youthful green.

She--she didn’t know if she go on--the doors gave but it felt like her energy was a battery, fluctuating between full and powerful to weak and drained--

No!

She...she could do this!

Frisk could set Gaster free; she could give Papyrus and Sans their father back. She could prove she was more than just Sans’s wife and a human, she was capable of so much more than sitting around day in and out with nothing but the worry and fear of being a burden that being a mage brought.

She could prove she was more than anyone had ever given her credit for.

Frisk cried so loudly her voice rose above the ringing the bells began to give as she poured all her frustration and deep buried regret into pushing the door’s apart. Foul wind and diseased air bathed her in cascading flows of evil intent that made her almost collapse with nausea.

Another inch--

And she fell, her magic going out as the doors swung wide enough Gaster reached forward and caught her easily. Moving quickly he passed the entry way and glared back at the feral Unseelie that had been alerted, their charging forms barely visible before Gaster coalesced his magic and slammed the doors back shut with a resounding crack of thunder.

Frisk was gasping and barely coherent as Gaster knelt with her and pressed his forehead to her own. She shivered as a feeling pushed in and started to replenish her but nearly made her gag at the bile it raised in the back of her throat.

Despite how gross it felt her breathing evened out, and thankfully Gaster pulled back before standing fully again. His hold on her only released once he was sure she could stand without shaking. It took her a second to get her thoughts straight but once they were she looked up at him cautiously.

“Thank you.” He hummed before turning.

Frisk froze.

Sans was still and at a distance but his whole frame tensed the moment his eyelights locked with Gaster. She watched as his sockets narrowed in disbelief and his grin trembled at the edges.

Gaster looked amused.

Her heart dropped.

Frisk felt the air take on a sudden chill, ice spiraling out from the bottoms of Sans’s feet to coat the ground as the wind picked up and billowed his cloak and clothing. Her husband’s smile, so often soft and adoring, suddenly widened and...felt as if it went empty of all feeling.

A bolt raced down her spine as his eyelights snuffed out, the left socket flaring bright like a raging inferno lit up with yellow and blue light coalescing violently in hostile intent. She was shocked as Sans spoke with the voice that she heard in her dream.

“Y O U D O N ‘ T B E L O N G H E R E.”

Gaster’s smirk dropped.

“Sans wait please!” Frisk tried but her plea died in her throat as he glanced over at her, the weight of the power she could feel in his gaze suffocating and stalling her thoughts.

It felt like he was seeing right through her.

Frisk locked in place, her and Sans both staring at each other with vastly different expressions and intent. There was apprehension and...she didn’t have a name for the way his face shone with false warmth in his smile but yet felt so condemning.

She didn’t know rather to be afraid...or worried.

Gaster took the opportunity to slip an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to his side, the abrupt motion jarring her enough into breaking eye contact as she looked up at Gaster.

It seemed to be enough to affect Sans.

Instantly his eyelight went out and he looked absolutely petrified as the whirling wind of his magic died. The sight of his wife in his deranged father’s arms sent such a painful spike through his soul that he had to fight not to let the magic in his joints constrict.

“don’t you dare--” Gaster gave a dismissive snort.

“So, it seems the risk to her well-being is what can temper you, duly noted.” Frisk tensed but the reassuring rub of his thumb into her shoulder relaxed her. The gesture was unexpected and it confused her how such warmth could come from him while he still glared Sans down, bitterness and cold detachment livid in his one good socket.

Sans glanced over at her and then back to Gaster, like hell he’d risk Frisk’s life for his job let alone his anger.

His demeanor became forced as he hitched his grin higher in one corner and held his hands up in a shrug. “no need to get so handsy, why don’t we go ahead and sit down for a talk. seelie were we can compromise?”

Frisk perked up hopefully but Gaster wasn’t fooled by the sudden attitude change. He could see his son’s tell with the magical sweat drop that subtly slid down the side of his skull.

Unlike Papyrus, Sans wasn’t good under pressure, it’s why he so often relied on his magical abilities when push came to shove in high tension situations.

An unfortunate flaw in his eldest.

“Your acting is about as poor as your puns, lacking in dedication and effort,” Sans’s expression darkened. “Rather disappointing given our race. But not nearly as disappointing as the thought you’d honestly believe me capable of intentionally hurting my daughter-in-law.”

It took Sans a moment to register Gaster’s words and slowly his body unwound as he blinked in confusion. Of course he thought that, if he could betray both him and Papyrus when they were younger, what was stopping him from hurting Frisk who he didn’t even know?

Sans wasn’t stupid.

Frisk took a deep breath and her voice was gentle.

“I’m sorry I hurt you by bringing Gaster here.” Sans’s skull whipped in her direction and he looked as if she’d slapped him but she continued, her eyes bright with her determination that it kept him rooted to the spot in which he stood.

“He just...misses you and Papyrus, his home. Don’t you miss him too?”

Slowly Sans’s eyelights panned over to his old man’s face, and the slight twitch of his frown, the way he had a hand absently adjust his monocle was telling. If only Sans couldn’t see the grudge his father still carried on his soul he might have relented.

But Gaster’s sins were countless.

He looked back over to Frisk, his kindhearted and stubborn wife, with a gaze soft but somber. It was too late for what she was trying to accomplish. Gaster was banished, an Unseelie who refused to give up the very conviction that corrupted him.

A Fae that had sacrificed everything that should have been precious.

“frisk--you can’t save him.”

She looked ready to defy him but he cut her off. “surely even he’s told you that.” He shot Gaster a glare. “my old man has always made it a point to make sure everyone knows reality from fiction.”

Gaster...looked away as his hand tightened on Frisk’s shoulder only the slightest bit.

If he hadn’t been holding her she would have thought he was ignoring the way Sans was speaking about him, indifferent to how hurt and angry his son sounded. And though she could tell he was becoming more angry himself, more tempted to lash out still he held to his word and didn’t.

“my old man died years ago frisk.” She could sense the ache, but it sounded so final.

Frisk looked down at her feet as she collected her thoughts before facing her husband again. Sans’s sockets were locked on Gaster but his attention was so clearly on where she was held it was impossible to miss the nervousness with which he hid his hands in his cloak.

Seeing how distressed he was it felt as if she’d wronged him, and doubt began to settle in her chest. Was she really doing the right thing? Couldn’t everyone be saved? She didn’t know what to think.

Frisk felt herself fade out, the world turning grey and loud. Shadows both sharp and blurred ran across her vision as hopelessness and desperation struggled with the fire of her hope and fought to quench her resolve.

She felt her body vanish.

Sans almost flinched at the cold and detached look that took over her face, it was horrifying to him how washed out her skin turned with her eyes going so dull it felt as if her soul had fled. It hit him in the most painful way to watch her wilt like a doll whose strings had been cut, but it wasn’t nearly as painful as her words.

“You saved me…” She muttered through numb lips.

And that made him question...if he actually had.

Gaster looked down at her, a mix of intrigue and surprise quirking one of his bony brows as he took in her state. It twisted Sans’s magic with disgust as he recognized the look in his father’s sockets.

no, don’t look at her with curiosity, like something to dissect, this isn’t--this wasn’t okay--

“sweetheart, that’s not the same thing, not by a long shot.” His words were hushed, gentle as if she might shatter. He wasn’t even aware that he’d gotten closer until Gaster held a hand out between them and nearly touched him.

Sans fought not to instinctually lash out with magic and shot Gaster a deadly look, but it went ignored as his father fully turned and adjusted Frisk to face him at arm’s length.

The longer Frisk stared at nothing and Gaster examined her the more Sans felt his anxiety grow, the more he tried to come up with a way to separate them without somehow accidentally harming her.

Eventually, “Ah, you’re traumatized. Classic dissociation associated with PTSD.”

Then Gaster did something Sans hadn’t witnessed since he was a child.

The former scientist got down on his <em>knees</em> and kept his gaze intentful and measuring as he spoke with the same authoritative voice he’d often used when he’d had to calm Sans down in his worst moments.

“Memories and feelings are just the mind’s way of storing information. None of that applies to the here and now, you don’t need to remember Frisk. Focus.”

”Family is everything Sans, greater than even yourself, never forget that.”

Sans felt his soul give a violent thrum and he had to do everything he could not to take his sockets off of Frisk. He hadn’t thought back on his father’s encouraging words in years. But now it was all he could think about as Gaster worked to bring his wife out of her stupor.

The doubt he’d carried all this time in the back of his skull came to the forefront.

Had Gaster...wavered in his depraved dedication? Was he changing? Had he...ever changed really? It was so hard to believe anything else as Frisk’s eyes slowly began to brighten, and her lashes fluttered away her daze.

Sans felt his stance on his father give.

Frisk sucked in a breath as her body lit up with warmth and her mind slowly cleared. She was confused to see Gaster kneeling in front of her but that quickly turned into mild embarrassment as he smirked at her.

“Good.”

Soon as she was coherent Sans moved to hold her, but was met with Gaster stepping forward and blocking the way. His guard went up, and the softness Sans had felt bloom in his chest hardened upon seeing his Father’s malicious smile.

Frisk stiffened at the sudden mood shift. “Gaster, we had a deal!”

“And we still do my dear.” He chuckled. “Nowhere did you state I couldn’t fight him.”

Frisk reached forward, her hands grasping and burying within the smoke that composed Gaster’s form as she tried her best to gain his full attention, anything to buy her precious seconds to try and convince him not to go through with the sudden whim.

Gaster however simply peered over his shoulder at her, “That’s enough of that, stop acting so childish.” and spawned a hand into being.

“frisk!” Sans panicked and tried vainly to teleport to her but found himself frozen in place, a dark and corrupted purple surrounding and suffocating his soul. Gaster looked back towards his son with a shrug as he snapped his fingers.

Frisk’s eyes went wide as dark light erupted from the ground around her, exploding upward and encasing her in a dome of pure blackness. Her cry went muffled and silent as it formed a cocoon around her, flipping and deafening her senses.

Sans began to sweat as he visibly struggled to break free, “F R I S K!”

His old man had gotten stronger through the years.

Gaster took a step forward, the last five of his hands appearing and enlarging as he prepared for combat. Sans was gasping, his eyelight bright and flaring with rage. His father was unperturbed and merely looked at him boredly.

“Is that all you plan to do? Act dramatic for your human? Come, let’s see what the years have taught you my boy. Best hurry.” He gave a snide smile. “Dear Frisk has, at best fifthteen minutes of air.”

Sans’s smile went so wide it threatened to crack his skull.

He should’ve known better. He should’ve acted as soon as he’d seen Gaster had returned.

Instead Sans had let nostalgia and his worry for Frisk make him weak.

The air turned chill, frost and snow whipping into a flurry around him as he glared his father down with tears in his sockets...as his second eyelight lit up with equal power to the first.

Gaster smirked as he easily dodged the first barrage of bones, his body morphing and shifting to allow the ring of projectiles through his form without a single scratch. He chuckled as Sans took the opportunity to break the hold his magic had on him and shortcut away.

Predictable.

The taller fae didn’t even have to turn as a frustrated cry echoed from behind him. Smirking he looked over to the shorter Seelie’s enraged snarl as a thick wall of impenetrable darkness kept him back from where Gaster held Frisk hostage.

“Fourteen minutes.” He taunted.

Sans’s shoulders slumped as if in defeat but Gaster easily sensed the pool of magic building beneath him and leapt, just barely missing a circle of sharpened bones protruding from the ground in a spray of cold fog.

“Ah, intending to actually kill me are we?” Sans slowly turned to face him, one hand still firmly pressed to the wall between him and his wife, his smile gone and replaced with a firm line.

“let her go old man. i didn’t like your games when i was a kid, and i don’t like them now.”

Gaster frowned and leveled a cruel glare at him. “Who says I’m playing?”

Sans vanished, the area around Gaster becoming awash in black before snapping into sharp clarity as the judge swung an elongated humerus bone. Gaster dodged with ease and the area once more turned black before returning with Sans coming down from above.

“Your shortcut’s effects will only do so much to aid you.” He remarked as an equally cold black wall of bones spawned above him blocking his son’s blow. Shards of ice like that of shattered glass rained down, catching the glow of Gaster’s corrupted magic and reflecting it with ethereal light as he shot Sans a narrowed smirk.

“Stop being lazy.”

Sans’s eyelights flared and quicker than Gaster could blink reality dissolved and snapped back in furious and rapid succession.

The monocle Gaster wore lit up and pulsed.

A blow aimed from the side, met with a gigantic palm.

Bones from beneath his feet while Sans struck from behind, blocked and evaded.

His son’s frustrated smile going wider as he summoned a blaster and fired only made him chuckle at how childish the Seelie’s ultimate defender looked as the powerful beams were easily absorbed by the holes in his hands.

Each time Sans tried to strike or entrap him Gaster simply thought ahead of him and prevented it, his monocle allowing him to peer moments into the course of his son’s actions to determine the best way to counter.

Gaster would be lying if he didn’t admit he was mildly disappointed.

This fight was too easy.

The moment Sans appeared again and lunged at him, humer raised in defiance, Gaster merely glanced up and shot a hand out from the darkness of his body.

Sans was shocked as he was locked in place, his forehead glistening with magical sweat as the hand, thoroughly cracked like a jigsaw puzzle and looked as if it was barely held together kept him from finishing his attack.

Apparently his father had seven hands instead of six. Sans wondered if he’d bothered trying to salvage it as a reminder of just how angry and bitter he was at him. It wouldn’t have surprised him.

Sans felt his arms strain as he pushed the humerus stubbornly against it.

Gaster knew he had won, all without barely lifting a finger, he could see it in the way Sans’s smile threatened to falter as it wobbled in the uppermost corner. Logically this was where he should stop. He had made a deal with Frisk after all.

But this was so tempting.

Before him was the very reason he’d been forced to suffer more than he had even when they’d all been locked in the void, the Seelie responsible for sending him to a place where he couldn’t feel the call of nature or the binding of magic that composed their very existence.

Sans could’ve purified him years ago...instead he had chosen to send him away.

He had damned him.

“I owe Frisk an apology.” He stated lowly.

Sans’s sockets narrowed in confusion and Gaster’s smile broke into a horrifying and twisted leer as his glee and eagerness outshone the calm composure he'd maintained throughout the entire confrontation. “...For making her a widow.”

Sans barely registered the words as Gaster’s palms rose up to encircle him from all directions, their hollow centers lighting up as they prepared to eviscerate him. He went to shortcut but his soul was pinged as Gaster used his magic to cancel his own.

Pulling from his magic started to exhaust him as he summoned another rain of bones but groaned as Gaster once more scattered and shattered them before they could impact. Sans didn’t even have the energy to call another blaster.

His sockets slammed shut as he tried to think but he kept coming up short on figuring out a way to escape, his magic was racing along his leylines and he was gasping as the world went impossibly silent except for the roar of his incoming death.

...Was..was he really this weak?

He didn’t realize he was so out of practice.

Couldn’t he manage to protect one person?

Sans opened his sockets and looked up passed the Unseelie to the wall standing between him and Frisk, his soul shuddering in agony as he envisioned her floating unconscious and vulnerable, completely at another’s mercy without anyone to help if she cried out for it.

His frisky…

His wife…

Sans could only ever fail to be there when she needed him.

A shout pulled Sans from his spiraling thoughts and he whipped his head around just in time to see a giant orange bone come flying and connect sharply with the side of his father’s skull.

Gaster was caught off guard, his body lurching and soaring with barely any effort into the wall of a building that broke and collapsed around him in a grotesque version of a fairy mound. Sans fell to his knees as Gaster’s magic broke and looked up with relief.

“hey bro...what took you so long?”

Undyne was smirking along with the rest of the guard as Papyrus slowly lowered his hand, his magic thick and undulating around him in a burnt orange aura as his cape levitated beyond gravity's hold in crusted ice.

Papyrus frowned. “HONESTLY BROTHER, YOU KNOW I DETEST FIGHTING.”

Sans smiled, battle ready and bringing backup?

His bro was the coolest.

#frans #sans x frisk #gaster

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randomvarious · 2 years ago

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Today’s compilation:

Remember When 1987 Pop-Rock / Doo Wop / Pop / R&B / Soul

Hey, here's an interesting-looking oldies comp made up of tunes from the 50s and 60s! This isn't just one of those standard cheat-code releases with hits that were ripped straight from the top of the charts. No, this is different; about half of these, I'd say, are less remembered obscurities; stuff that, as time wears on, continues to fade from our collective consciousness. Some hits on here have been able to maintain their legacy, like Clarence "Frogman" Henry's "I Don't Know Why (But I Do)," which just got another dose of major exposure a year or two ago with it being featured throughout a whole ad campaign for Expedia that got a lot of play on TV, but others, not so much.

For instance, teen idol Fabian's first hit, "Turn Me Loose" from 1959, which managed to peak at #9 on Billboard's Hot 100 chart, still has some juice as a softly-spoken, slowly swaying, rock & roll heart-melter. And far more unknown is Gene Pitney's "Every Breath I Take." Pitney achieved quite a track record in the States throughout the 60s, racking up a total of sixteen top-40 hits, but somehow, "Every Breath I Take" wasn't one of them. And it should've been. It builds itself up wonderfully, the doo wop backup singing isn't typical, and at the end, Pitney puts forth some dynamite falsetto as the strings get a tad nutty. An excellent oldie there.

And ya can't sleep on Billy Stewart's soulful "I Do Love You" either. Stewart had a bunch of hits in his tragically shortened career, but in '65 he appeared to uncover a formula that would end up delivering him two straight top-30 pop and top-10 R&B hits. Both this and "Sitting in the Park," the latter of which was famously sampled and adapted by Slick Rick for "Sittin' in My Car," have similar melodies and instrumentation to them. And they're both terrific bits of mid-60s soul music as well! 🥰

Unfortunately though, for a good deal of these, despite the fact that they were huge hits upon their initial release, they don't really seem to impress all that much anymore. But the three songs that I've outlined above still manage to sound great five to six decades on.

Highlights:

Billy Stewart - "I Do Love You" Fabian - "Turn Me Loose" Gene Pitney - "Every Breath I Take"

#pop rock #pop #rock #doo wop #r&b #r & b #soul #soul music #oldies #classic rock #classic pop #music #50s #50s music #50's #50's music #60s #60s music #60's #60's music

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shinsorokiri · 4 years ago

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UA Idol | Chapter Six

Hitoshi Shinsou x Reader

Word Count: 1,400

Warnings: Language

A/N: Aaaand here we have chapter six! I hope you enjoy this chapter! I’m currently facing hella writer’s block so like, pray for me lol. Don’t worry though, I’ll keep updating these weekly for sure! Read away! And don’t forget you can request too! If you would want to!

UA Idol Masterlist

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“Sorry about the mess, Nyx got excited because I got a package yesterday and she decided to rip up the box but I didn’t have time to clean it up… so there’s cardboard… everywhere,” you mumble, unlocking the door to your apartment and walking inside. Sure enough, the place is decorated in ripped up cardboard, but other than that it’s spotless. “Ah, Mochi did that to me before. I could have killed him, but honestly, it’s kind of endearing,” Shinsou responds, walking in and picking up a rather large piece that was on the floor. You walk over to your couch, flopping yourself down on it. And then lying flat on your face. After all, you were still exhausted. Your anxiety kept you up way too late the night before, not to mention you haven’t even been able to take a nap or anything to actually feel better.

You didn’t know it but Shinsou was in the same boat as you. He was physically and mentally exhausted, so he quickly found his way to the recliner you had right next to the couch. Meanwhile, Denki and Mina were buzzing with excitement. “Okay, I think we should start with a ballad, maybe? We need to do as many genres and tempos as we can, we don’t want to be caught off guard,” Mina starts rambling. “Good idea, good idea, um… what can we sing though?”

“I don’t know, (Y/n), you know more songs than me give us a ballad we can sing.”

“Well, Mina, I don’t know what we can sing yet because I don’t know what these two fine men sound like,” you say, shifting your head so it was no longer face down on your couch. “Mina here has a soulful voice that can be difficult to blend and sound good with, but I’ve learned how. Now we both need to learn how to be able to sing with your voices and actually make it sound good. Care to give me a demonstration, boys?” Denki smirks, and Shinsou sighs. “Any song?”

“Any song that shows off your voice, yes,” you respond, moving your face back into your couch cushions. It’s easier for you to focus solely on voices if you’re not seeing the person singing. Not even a second later, you hear Denki start belting out the lyrics to Riptide. He’s got a really nice voice, actually. His voice is surprisingly husky, but still smooth at the same time. He has one hell of a range, too. When he stops, you grumble out a thanks, followed by a “your voice is nice.” Denki glances over at Shinsou and wiggles his eyebrows at him, to which Shinsou scoffs. “Your turn, kitten,” you mumble under your breath, teasing him with the little name he called you at dinner. You don’t see it, but he smirks. He liked the sound of that. He begins singing and wow. His voice is literally the prettiest thing you’ve ever heard. The control he has is insane, you can barely even tell when he’s switching from his chest voice to his falsetto. Not to mention the fact that this was 100% an original. And his lyrics were amazing. He stops after what you take as the chorus, and you lift your head to look at him. “So, what was that song?”

“I call it Johnny Boy,” he says, and you nod. “Good lyrics, good voice.”

“Thanks. Now how about you and Mina show us your voices too? I’m dying to find out what you sound like,” he responds, and you roll your eyes, sitting up. “I would be more than happy to sing a little bit for you!” Mina basically squeals, immediately going into Primadonna by Marina (and the Diamonds). Denki eventually starts dancing along to it, roping Mina into doing it as well. You and Shinsou watch as the two of them put on a literal show in your living room. It’s actually very entertaining, and you kind of don’t want it to end. Those two are definitely charismatic and wild enough to win the whole show. It’s gonna be quite the interesting season since those two are obviously going to make it to live shows. Eventually, Mina and Denki’s little “performance” comes to an end, and you and Shinsou “applaud” them. “You know, you guys could try to be enthusiastic with that clapping.”

“We could, but that just isn’t who we are,” Shinsou responds, and you shrug in agreeance. “Whatever. Your turn, (Y/n,” Mina says, when suddenly Shinsou winks at you, saying, “Blow me away, kitten.” You roll your eyes. “Whatever you say, my dear purple prince,” you say, the sarcasm dripping from your voice causing him to grin. You clear your throat before beginning to sing a song you’d written a while ago. You don’t notice, but Shinsou’s grin completely disappears as he watches you in awe as you sing. Your voice is easily the one of the best he’s ever heard in his life, and not to mention the lyrics you’re spewing out. The judges weren’t kidding when they said you were talented, that’s for sure. He just stares at you while you sing, until you eventually finish. “And what was that called?” he asks, trying to ignore the increasing pining feeling in his heart. “Undrunk,” you respond, satisfied with the look on his face.

“What the fuck, guys. Are you guys like okay? Like mentally?” Denki says, forcing you and Shinsou to tear your eyes away from each other. “No,” you both say at the same time. Denki sighs, and Mina chuckles a bit. “Oh, come on Denki. They’ve both obviously been through some shit. Even if they aren’t okay, they’re doing pretty good for themselves. Two strong ass people with some sad ass songs,” Mina says, grinning at the two of you. You both give her a tiny grin, before Denki breaks the moment. “Okay, so hold on. Will our voices work together? That’s why we’re here right?”

“Well, they can. You and Mina have very similar belting styles and your voices would easily melt together to make something sound really good. Shinsou and I have a more similar sounding voice, both a little different, you know. But I think it could work. For sure. Now we just need to practice some songs and see what we can do with each other,” you explain, and everyone nods.

You all spend the rest of the night singing songs as a group, along the way you were coming up with harmonies, hearing runs that then interfered with those harmonies resulting in Shinsou hitting Denki a few times, and then Denki tried to return the hit (he failed to return the hit) and you had to deal with Mina staring at you and Shinsou with a shit eating grin every time you two sang a part in a love song together.

Of course, you both hated love songs. They were just so shallow. Why did everything have to be about love all the time? But neither of you would admit that you didn’t necessarily mind singing them with each other. I mean you both aren’t the biggest fans of them, so it’s fine. That’s the reason you don’t mind. Obviously.

Hours passed, and soon it was nearly midnight. You were all exhausted from your long ass day, and you suggested stopping for the night to save your voices and bodies. Everyone agreed, and Shinso and Denki began to leave. Denki and Mina were to the side, talking to each other about how they need to hang out more when suddenly, Shinsou stepped in front of you. “So sometimes I come up with song lyrics but the only person I have to talk to them about is that blonde idiot over there, so do you think I could maybe get your number…? You know, for song lyrics… and stuff,” he starts off confident before slowly starting to mumble. He absolutely cannot hide the blush on his cheeks, and you just smile at him. “Yeah, sure. I need someone to read my lyrics too,” you respond, quickly grabbing his phone and putting your number in it. You send yourself a text, pulling out your phone to add his number right there.

Shinsou doesn’t notice that the text says, ‘hey kitten ;)’ until after he and Denki left your apartment.

Maybe that was for the better.

#shinsou x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #shinso x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #my hero academia x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #boku no hero x reader #shinsou #hitoshi shinsou #shinso #hitoshi shinso #my hero academia #mha #bnha shinsou #boku no hero academia #anim #ua idol masterlist

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minjungfmd · 3 years ago

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butterfly / creative claims verification

writing verification for @fmdjiah‘s butterfly. an instrumental inspired by the dreaminess of a movie, and lyrics that write a love story that feels like a remnant of a dream. warnings / none wc / 1687, not including lyrics

eternal sunshine of the spotless mind.

despite how many times she’s repeated the movies in her head — set forth with the question of whether any erasure of the memory counts towards the steps of healing — she finds something new.

this time, the fixation on the cinematic score, an ethereal dream shifting the pieces of fragments of fiction versus reality prompts her fingers on the keyboard to start trickling a series of notes, one by one. trickling dainty, delicately. it mimics the tempo of classically thought-of harps, and the note leads to a drag over one and another. and when inspiration hits, she goes straight towards her home-studio, the new file of a blank screened ableton before the record starts, and she carries the notes, letting the settings hit almost to the notch of mute.

there’s no heavy emphasis, just the trickle of notes she wants to carry the dream of the track. it’s the lucid dreams, the ones that feel like when you’re drunk on little hours of sleep with heavy eyelids, and a heavy heart to match. the nostalgia that comes in waves, just like the gentle sounds to lull you to sleep, knowing full well you can’t.

she imagines the song to have a feeling, the lyrics that are sung in a way it just drags. heels in the ground, one word blending into another in a sultry emotion that counteracts the nostalgia lodged in the song — makes note of that for later, but for now, inaudible words, just phasing past her lips in small ideas of how the melody goes.

she takes the first one, the counter-progression of the initial notes as she hums the words, taking two notes forward in the same pitch before the other falls back. it all contrasts by the time she takes a stark turn, starting another line with a higher note, only to transition down. her pen jots the time stamp, a possible falsetto? she leaves that to later judgement.

but work doesn’t always come in a streamlined process, just as it’s hard to solidify ideas one by one, in a cohesive manner. instead, it comes wayward from all angles, and she falls back to the instrumental, taking in the slow bpm tempo — leading with a possible chord, heavy on the synth to start each trickle of keys. this time, the setting’s louder, spotlighting the attention to the thickness of the beginning, setting up for the entirety of the dream.

when she falls back on the track, she finds herself doused in inspiration days later. working on bits and pieces, martyring it like a puzzle still to be written. she takes her notes, one by one, still no lyrics at hand but an idea of non-coherent words and strings of random sentences — the heaviness of the chords, the synth and the trickle of keys she alters with editing, building up from the minimalism of the keys to heaviness of the synth by the time she picks where she sees the chorus.

vibrato on the voice, drag the end.

she writes that down, singing along empty words — a more powerful vocal execution, even where her own struggles. a dip before the vibrato and the drags paint the canvas whole.

the song’s not for her, least not when the power dynamics of the song — the counteraction between the softness of the dream with the voices of reality are centered around the song. the verses carry themselves alone before she takes in a different set of notes, speeding them up towards the end. a nameless track with an empty story — it’s the skeletons of something, maybe someday it’ll come into fruition.

—

the song repeats itself in her head, like a taste of irony. it bleeds into her thoughts when she’s drifting back, lost in the middle of a meeting — the dreamy synths drowning out the talks of the executives, and by the time she spares a few hours, she’s already back into the studio, notebook wide scribbling down rudimentary sketches of clouds and figures.

turns out, it’s another love song struck in her mind when dreams entice a figure of her past that comes to haunt her in sweet memories, too sweet to be drowned out by any erasure.

she writes the first few words:

drawn in a dream that i can’t wake up from i was still looking for you

it’s like sleep walking, or some wicked form of lucid dreaming. walking around in circles hoping for a figure of the past keeping up — but the reality brings to a limbo that leaves her double questioning the thoughts of what’s real and what’s fake if the thing she’s looking for all along becomes the centerpiece that all draws to him.

because she knows, optimistic thinking. wishful dreaming — it all dies the second dreams blur with reality, and what’s sitting in front of her becomes the hopes and wishes she spent her 11:11s and pennies on. her breath held still, a person of permanency to become exposed right in front of only to realize the first taste becomes like the first hit of a drug that takes over the body in full throttle. exhilaration, and addition all lying on the first whiff, putting her on a cloud nine, skies above her head. no recollection for the past nor future when the present feels so good.

now that i found you i can’t wake up i can’t escape from you

but even addicts have their downfall and the high doesn’t last long. least not when the shaky withdrawals of a person no longer being there starts to breed the downfall for a constant lingering feeling of wanting something that’s not there. she knows it, and she’s sure anyone else does too — the way he’s there and then poofs into fine air, the remnants of the cologne left on his clothes the only piece to tether her back (only, that’s a lie. it’s always been a lie when the memory becomes the final force of red string tethering her still).

in the end, he’s not a creature to be caved in nor is she a creature meant to stay still. freedom lingers like a butterfly always waiting at the end, with the only possibility of hope: maybe, someday it’ll return.

even if i struggle to hold onto you’re still like a butterfly

she wonders how she became a lovelorn addict in the first place. how she became jaded by the pinky promises and breaths shared underneath the blanket. heartbeats playing in sync, and the gleam in her eye that writes the story for a future left unwritten — little did she know, it’d be left as the future untold.

if anything, it’s pride that tells her to regret. prevent the beggar nature to fall onto her knees and plead for a sense of freedom — because the more she thinks, the more she dwindles and the pang in her gut grows.

she writes down her pleas here, because if not here — then anywhere housed in her thoughts would topple over the self-ruination in.

let go of my tired heart the deeper i get, the smaller i become the one that got away, making my heart more painful

it’s a pity song, a pitied dream. one word after the other scrawling itself across the pages. yet, the journal houses the same old song written fifteen different ways, each word, each sentence staking the same words unspoken to a boy she can’t bring herself to call. empty lines, and empty text messages — erased, then re-written over and over. and the only remedy becomes the hope that someday it’ll enter his own ears through the speakers — because in the end, she falls inside cowardice. falls too short, becomes a coward to bring herself to say it out loud: i miss you. i hate you. but i can’t regret you.

like a school girl, she carries her harddrive close to her chest. crossed again, hidden behind a mask as she finds her way, her own unwelcomed entrance coming in a peek through the doors before she steps into the studio. her hands toss the disk to her friend, sitting happily in front of the desk — he’s a free soul, unbridled by any company and a worker to all. still, friendship crosses work boundaries when she comes in for a second set of ears, and he picks up on the one-two cues already halfway plugging the drive into the computer.

“i want to add a series of chords, guitar — but i can’t get the right set, or the right set.” it’s her concession, when she hums along what she means, fingers already pointing to a screen at the set time point. “i’ve added in as much synth as you could see — heavy handed especially where the chorus blurs into the second verse, and the end of each line to exude that cloudy blur i want in this song. but here.” her nails tap once more at the screen. “i want this weird chord style, where it’s somewhere between electric and acoustic, heavier than the piano that carries the song.”

too many words, and she waits in the silence, arms crossed against her chest — awaiting an answer. but she knows, her friend works in silence, taking in the entire song the whole way through before parting his lips to give any sort of answer.

“you could add it towards the end of the song? the entire beginning sounds too heavy on the synth to add anything else.”

she weighs her choices, a song spurned on by inspiration. yet, she stands in a limbo of not knowing what to do, and what to add. instead, she tilts her head, lips unevenly pursed to the side of her face. “could we try adding chords? but the specific settings of an unplugged electric guitar”

“you don’t think it’ll clash?”

“if we keep it silenced enough it doesn’t drown out the keys, i think it could work.”

her friend motions over to the lines of guitar stockpiled in the side of the room, “take your pick.”

her hands gravitate towards the first guitar, taking a seat on the couch behind them. uncertain, she motions with a nod to play back the instrumental of the song, void of her guide vocals, strumming one take to the next. it all leads to a simple c, and she flicks her gaze up, a eureka gloating in her eyes. “it’s this.”

#famedverification #fmdverification

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lifeonashelf · 3 years ago

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COLDPLAY

Let’s get this straight right off the bat: Coldplay is fucking terrible.

We all know this. Designating Coldplay as terrible isn’t a statement of personal opinion, it is an easily demonstrable fact. Just listen to them; Coldplay’s music proves the existence of Coldplay’s terribleness the same way that breathing proves the existence of oxygen. Surely, even the band’s staunchest supporters understand that their songs are pretentious, monotonous, and unimaginative—they’d kind of have to; I assume these people have listened to Coldplay, too. If you like music as superfluous as Coldplay’s, that’s totally fine. I’m not here to tell you that you shouldn’t, nor to convince you to stop listening to Coldplay (you can’t stop listening to them, anyway; no matter how hard you try to escape, wherever you go, Coldplay will find you). But they are unequivocally fucking awful, and I need to make that clear before we continue in case I end up saying anything courteous about them later. And, who knows? I may indeed find something positive to say about Coldplay—I mean, nothing comes to mind right now, but it’s going to take me a few hours to write this piece so it’s possible something will at some point.

Okay, so we’re all clear on Coldplay being fucking terrible, right? Great. But that isn’t the main reason I hate them. I appreciate plenty of terrible bands just as I appreciate plenty of terrible movies. Listening to a really shitty group is sort of like watching a cast of really shitty actors—though they clearly suck at what they do, there’s something oddly appealing about the charming naiveté they demonstrate by giving it the best go they can anyway.

For instance, since I was still filing most of my Warped Tour emo discs in my punk section when I began this venture, I never got around to writing about a band called Adair. If you’re not familiar with them, don’t worry about it; they only existed for a few years in the mid-aughts and their diminutive discography merely consists of a self-released EP and one full-length album, The Destruction Of Everything Is The Beginning Of Something New. Sonically, Adair were so amusingly prototypical of every baby t-shirt screamo band that was thriving at the time, they essentially sounded like they were parodying the style of music they played (although, to be fair, a lot of those squads did). But, Adair were absolutely serious, regardless of what stridently nasal heights the vocals reached, regardless of how faithfully their compositions adhered to their genre’s textbook page by page, and regardless of the sublimely ridiculous realms some of their allegorical angst lamentations ventured into (the line “lock me up in Guantanamo Bay and throw away the key” from the song “I Buried My Heart In Cosmo Park” may very well be the lyrical apex of their entire genus).

Adair’s music is so inane that it makes me laugh out loud when I sing along to it—but here’s the thing: I do sing along to it. I have probably played The Destruction Of Everything Is The Beginning Of Something New a hundred times from start to finish since my copy was sent to me to review for some website back in 2006, and I have cued up individual high(low?)points like “The Diamond Ring” and “Folding and Unfolding” even more times than that. As silly as they sound—and trust me, they sound very fucking silly—I still sincerely enjoy their tunes and have spent enough hours listening to TDOEITBOSN for it to possibly qualify as one of my favorite records ever. Shit, even writing about it right now makes me feel like hearing the disc, so I’ll probably end up blasting it in my truck tomorrow (ed. note: I actually did). If they ever decided to do a reunion tour, I would absolutely go see them, and if vocalist Rob Tweedie did that whole “hold the microphone out toward the crowd so they can finish the lyric” thing which every frontman in every band that sounds like Adair does at least a dozen times per show, I would totally be able to fill in each of those blanks and enthusiastically do so.

Sorry, we were talking about Coldplay. To recap, they’re fucking terrible.

Unlike a frivolous whimper-core ensemble like Adair, the most off-putting thing about Coldplay isn’t their music. They’ve actually managed to excrete a few tracks that I grudgingly enjoy over the years. However, sporadically releasing songs which don’t sound like they were specifically written for Gap commercials actually works against Coldplay in this instance. Sure, most of their output is noxious twaddle, but since they occasionally come across as a marginally decent band, their work isn’t awful enough to at least ironically appreciate it for being awful.

In fact, there’s absolutely nothing ironic about Coldplay—other than U2 and Radiohead (more on them in a minute), I can’t think of another band that seems to take itself as dreadfully seriously as Coldplay does. There isn’t a single lighthearted number in their entire catalog, and the demeanor of their music is so staid and cheerless that it’s hard to imagine the dudes ever cracking a smile while they’re making it. Their approach to songwriting is rigidly Pavlovian—when the music gets louder, ring ring ring, that signals the listener the *really* poignant part of the tune has arrived and cues them to emotionally salivate in kind—yet despite their calculated use of sonic dynamics to manufacture sentiment, the vapid and unspontaneous nature of the delivery saps their tunes of anything resembling genuine soul or passion. Even when thrusting through the more energetic tracks in their litany, the musicians in Coldplay always sound like they’re actively striving to not play their instruments too hard. The result is that they consistently deliver some of the safest and least edgy rock ever created, shaping their ethos around a formula so willfully tepid and cuddly that they barely qualify as a rock band at all. Coldplay aren’t quite the musical equivalent of plain yogurt (that would be Jack Johnson, an artist so comprehensively flavorless that even his name is fucking boring) but the granola in their mixture is always judiciously distributed so as not to agitate anyone’s tastebuds.

And at the center of this slow-motion kaleidoscope, you have Chris fucking Martin (I find it difficult to cite his name without including the “fucking” in there; he’s just one of those guys—like Jason fucking Mraz, Blake fucking Shelton, or fucking Bono). Coldplay’s music may be stagnant, but you’d never know it from beholding the practiced arsenal of slinky paroxysms their vocalist bursts into while that music is playing. In performance and in their videos, Martin’s appendages are incessantly in motion, his hands ever-swaying gently through the air like he’s waving a pair of invisible cigarette lighters or finger painting on the goddamn sky, ostensibly so deeply lost in his band’s reverie of sound that he simply can’t help himself from moving his body in a cadenced pantomime of the way their music is meant to superficially move your spirit.

For the three non-ballads the group has written in their career, Chris usually switches things up by crouching in an incongruous bobbing panther-stance like a battle rapper delivering a diss track about fucking his opponent’s mama in the mouth, until it’s time to freeze in the tried and true messiah-statue pose as the number’s final notes chime into the ether. But it is in the quiet moments when Martin truly shines—which makes perfect sense given that he’s the leader of a group so systematically anodyne they probably should have actually named themselves Quiet Moments. These are the obligatory interims where the frontman takes the stage on his own to sit down at the piano, resplendent in the spotlight, and perform an intimate solo rendition of one of his most tender hits to show everyone in the audience that Chris fucking Martin is a bonafide fucking musician who, if he really felt like it, could totally do the whole Coldplay thing without the other three dudes whose names no one knows. His soaring falsetto croon is custom-feigned for the arenas the band was destined to coldplay from the moment they dropped their breakthrough single “Yellow” and caused a nation of book-sensitive sociology majors eagerly anticipating the arrival of their generation’s U2 to cream their Dockers in unison. When Martin opens his pipes to summon those indelibly contrived choruses about birds and stars and other monosyllabic nouns, it hardly even matters what words he’s singing—the leitmotifs in most of the tunes are basically interchangeable anyway. What matters is that Chris sounds like he really, really, really means it when he says he will try to fix you.

That analysis probably makes it seem like I hate Chris fucking Martin as much as I hate his band. I actually don’t—he’s too benign a character to elicit such a fervid response; hating Chris Martin is like hating turtleneck sweaters, or actual turtles. In fact, I suspect he’s probably a really nice dude. At least, I’ve never heard any creepy stories about him showing his penis to under-aged fans on Skype or anything like that.

Regardless, while I don’t specifically despise either Martin, Dude Who Plays Guitar, or the other two anonymous members of Coldplay, I do gauge their collective as the fourth or fifth worst band of all time. And the reason I loathe them more than any of their neighbors on that list is because they aren’t the kind of prodigiously abysmal group you can just ignore until their moment in the spotlight inevitably passes—which is how I dealt with Five For Fighting from September 2001 through February 2002 and how I’ve been dealing with Twenty-One Pilots for the last four years (seriously, are you fuckers done yet?). Coldplay is a far cagier nuisance because they are massively popular and have been for a ludicrously long time. I’ve been patiently waiting for them to go away for two decades now, yet they continue to pop up every third summer or so to drop a new album and remind us that, yes, they’re still here assiduously mining the middle of the road for new ways to write more tunes about clouds being pretty.

Even worse, I can’t disregard their music because it’s everywhere. I hear “The Scientist” while I’m shopping for cereal at the grocery store, I hear “Talk” when I sit down to eat at any chain restaurant, and I imagine I’ll be viewing that idiotic video for “Adventure of a Lifetime” with the posse of animated dancing monkeys on an infinite Clockwork-Orange-eyes-gaping loop for the rest of eternity when my mortal essence exits this world and I am cast into the fiery pits of Hell. I can’t even watch football without encountering Coldplay, as I discovered with horror in 2016 when they took part in the most fatuous jumbled fucking mess of a Super Bowl halftime show the NFL had ever presented (a zenith of suckery which seemed impossible to eclipse until this past February, when Adam Levine showed up covered with prison tattoos and said, “hold my beer”).

The pervasive level of esteem Coldplay has reached dumbfounds me. This is a group that has sold millions and millions of albums worldwide, even though I have never once heard a single person utter the phrase, “man, that new Coldplay song kicks ass.” I’m sure their most dedicated fans have favorite hits, tracks that are significant to them in some way, etc. But their remarkable success is patently disproportionate to how patently unremarkable the work which garnered that success really is. Nobody ever describes the band’s music as “awesome”, just as nobody ever describes a glass of pinot gris as awesome—the term simply does not apply to their province; actually, in this case, describing the mouthfeel of Coldplay tunes and recommending cheeses they best pair with is probably more relevant than discussing how they sound. Coldplay is as universally popular as they are precisely because they aren’t awesome. They’re not beloved because they’re extraordinary; most people love them because they’re innocuous, functional, and suitable for almost any occasion—Coldplay is akin to a pair of cargo shorts, and no one thinks cargo shorts kick ass. Coldplay isn’t an alternative band (on the contrary, almost every good band is an alternative to Coldplay); they are a lowest common denominator band, undemanding and ubiquitous and safe to like because everyone else likes them. Their work is specifically geared toward people who think appreciating music demonstrates sophistication, but don’t ultimately give enough of a shit about the artform to put any effort into finding music that is actually sophisticated or appreciable. You may assume Coldplay is erudite because they’re British and they cite books you’ve never read when discussing the lyrical themes in their work, but they’re merely recycling the same emotional territory as every other pop act that writes tunes about finding love, losing love, missing love, and the 18th Century French peasantry.

The best thing about being a Coldplay fan is that it’s easy. You don’t have to buy their records, go see them live, or make any concerted effort at all to receive their music. If you listen to the radio for any extended period of time (or eat at an Applebee’s), you will eventually hear one of their songs; all you have to do is not hate it and, voila, you’re officially a Coldplay fan. There, don’t you just love the security of venerating a critically and commercially acclaimed band that will never challenge you or be unpopular?

Okay, I do strive to be fair—even in this arena where I can say whatever I want and no one can argue with me. I gave this a lot of thought, so here are four things about Coldplay that are not terrible:

1) “Clocks”: I resisted it for many years, but I finally had to concede that it’s kind of a pretty song. Notes of red currant and blackberries, and it goes superbly with a nice aged brie.

2) “God Put A Smile On Your Face”: It doesn’t put a smile on mine, but that’s why I enjoy it. Most Coldplay songs sound like they’re aiming to evoke what being hugged by a koala bear feels like, so I appreciate Chris fucking Martin delivering a darker number that seems intent on making me feel depressed instead. Well played, sir.

3) Viva La Vida, Or Death And All His Friends: I sincerely respect their effort to broaden their palate a bit by working with Brian Eno and making Dude Who Plays Guitar buy a distortion pedal to use on one song. This is still an archetypal shitty Coldplay record, but at least it sounds a little different than all of the other archetypal shitty Coldplay records.

4) Nah. They’re still fucking terrible; they were lucky to get three things.

There is one additional facet of the group’s career which has fascinated me over these past several years, even though it relates more to bands that are not Coldplay rather than the band that is Coldplay. Earlier I dubbed them the U2 of their generation, and recent events in particular have coalesced to underscore that comparison. See, when Coldplay came out, the tributes to their Irish brethren in choreographed affectation were far from subtle. Chris fucking Martin’s warbling was plainly modeled after fucking Bono’s, Dude Who Plays Guitar served up an endless cycle of repetitive but hooky high-register licks that were striking similar to the distinctive methodology of The Edge, and both bands’ workmanlike rhythm sections held things down with competent yet discreet backing tracks which militantly fulfilled each song’s basic requirements rather than showcasing the musicians’ dexterity. I don’t think anyone ever disputed the collective homage in Coldplay’s dogma, and no one was terribly bothered by it either; at the time there were a lot of people craving a band that sounded just like U2, because U2 didn’t sound like U2 anymore.

When Coldplay’s debut album Parachutes was released in July 2000, fucking Bono and company’s career was on a downward arc after they largely vacated their signature approach to instead craft a couple poorly-received discs dominated by insipid rave-lite tunes that not even the members of U2 listen to anymore. Though they would temporarily rebound later that year with “Beautiful Day”, the last honestly excellent song they would ever record, U2 had left a gap that needed filling. And the most obvious inheritors of their kingdom, Radiohead, had grown tired of anthemic guitar rock; they were hunkered down creating their demanding but exceptional opus Kid A, which sounded nothing like U2, nothing like Radiohead, and indeed nothing like any other music being made on planet Earth. Kid A still had some anthems, still had some guitar, and still had a little rock, but its oblique delivery clearly demonstrated that Radiohead was chasing a far different muse and had little interest in claiming the crown (of course, this would be abundantly clarified in hindsight when they subsequently slid further down their rabbit-hole, gradually abandoning the anthems and guitars and rock altogether, until finally settling upon their current songwriting formula, which seems to mostly involve Thom Yorke masturbating on his laptop, naming ten of his climaxes, and calling it an album).

So while U2 were busy trying to figure out why they weren’t relevant anymore and Radiohead were busy doing whatever the fuck they were doing, the lads in Coldplay stepped up and said, hey, why not us? They seized the ersatz-earnest arena rock mantle with A Rush Of Blood To The Head and never looked back. Now, 17 years and seven multi-platinum albums later, they can ruin the Super Bowl, collaborate with the Chainsmokers, and even make the same kind of lameass dance music that essentially buried U2’s career with impunity. Even more significant, they have come full circle. A group that started out playing second-rate U2 facsimiles under the moniker Pectoralz (this is absolutely true, by the way) is now one of the hugest pop institutions in the universe, beloved by millions of music and wine connoisseurs across the globe. And the student has eclipsed the teacher; U2’s desperate efforts to play catchup have made their modern work sound unmistakably like second-rate Coldplay facsimiles. Chris fucking Martin and those other three guys are no longer pretenders to the throne—they are Coldplay, and this is their empire now, bitches.

These days, U2 has to reprise their old records in their entirety on nostalgia tours to get anyone to come to their concerts, and Radiohead continues to release unlistenable albums which their fans claim to love while sheepishly casting them aside to listen to OK Computer for the thousandth time instead. But Coldplay has strategically situated themselves for an eternity as the undisputed emperors of rock mediocrity. I think they’ve got another two decades in them, too; I have no doubt that long after Twenty-One Pilots is (finally) relegated to the county fair circuit where they belong, Chris fucking Martin will still be promising sold-out crowds that lights will lead them home and having a series of polite, gently-articulated seizures while he sings “Speed Of Sound”.

It seems I respect Coldplay a little more than I suspected. You know what? I’m going to amend my original valuation right here and now. As of this moment, I am formally designating Coldplay the sixth worst band of all time.

Your move, Godsmack.

May 15, 2019

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brokenbuttonsmusic · 4 years ago

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Howard Tate: A Philadelphia Soul Resurrection

This post is a near- transcript of the Broken Buttons: Buried Treasure Music podcast (episode 1, side B). Here you’ll find the narration from the segment featuring the great Philadelphia soul singer Howard Tate, along with links, videos, photos and references for the episode.

Listen to the full episode on Spotify, Anchor or Mixcloud.

Music history is packed with bands and artists that had the talent, the songs and even the fully realized recordings to make it big, only to be passed over. Some miss their window, or worse, some get their big break, but somehow self-destruct or fail to capitalize on it. It’s the reason why I decided to do this show. There is so much overlooked and under appreciated music out there to be found and enjoyed.

This next artist doesn’t quite hit any of those scenarios exactly though. Howard Tate got his break and made it happen. Howard Tate hit big and he hit fast. Tate said he came home from work one day and a big limousine was sitting in front of his door.

“You gotta get in here right away. You gotta get a suit. You’re playing with Marvin Gaye tomorrow night.”

Between 1966 and 1970 Howard Tate had six top 40 R&B singles. And then he disappeared. Plunging into obscurity, almost as quickly as he soared within sight of the summit. Tate never completely crossed over. While he regularly appeared on the R&B charts, the highest he ever placed on the Pop charts was #63.

Let’s start our dive into Tate, by hearing his highest charting single. One of three top 20 R&B hits in his catalog. This is Ain’t Nobody Home by Howard Tate.

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Ain’t Nobody Home by Howard Tate.

Here’s what the Rough Guide to Soul & R&B has to say about that recording and the chemistry of the whole crew who made it happen.

“With a groove laid down by keyboardist Richard Tee, guitarist Cornell Dupree, bassist Chuck Rainey and drummer Herb Lovell, the production of Ain’t Nobody Home by Jerry Ragovoy both borrowed from and influenced the music coming from Memphis and Muscle Shoals, and set the precedent for Atlantic’s first recordings with Aretha Franklin. While the music was great, however, it was Tate’s vocals that made the record. Sounding like a less overwrought Percy Sledge, Tate’s simultaneously Northern and Southern phrasing was impeccable, and economical use of his falsetto made it all the more effective.”

Tate had the voice, which many compared to Sam Cooke and Marvin Gaye. He also had a distinctive gospel-blues delivery that sticks with you for days. But the tunes came from somewhere else.

Before his quick ascent, Tate was singing in a group with Garnet Mimms. Mimms was the original singer of the Janis Joplin hit, Cry Baby. He also introduced Howard to record producer Jerry Ragovoy, who co-wrote Cry Baby. Ragovoy is known for writing Time is On My Side for the Rolling Stones and another Joplin hit, Piece of My Heart. Clearly Janis liked the songwriting of Jerry Ragovoy. In fact, she also performed this Ragovoy composition that you’ve probably come across at one time or another.

That’s Janis Joplin singing Get It While You Can from her massive second album Pearl in 1971. What you might not know is that Get it While you Can was originally performed by Howard Tate, five years earlier in 1966.

Ragovoy was taken with Tate’s voice and began recording him as a solo artist for Verve Records. Ragovoy’s memorable, punchy Northern soul production paired with Tate’s soulful blues phrasing was a perfect match.

Here’s Howard Tate’s version, the original version, of the Jerry Ragovoy penned Get It While You Can.

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That was Howard Tate with Get It While You Can from the 1966 album of the same name.

American rock critic Robert Christgau had this to say about Tate and his collaboration with Jerry Ragovoy.

“Tate is a blues-drenched Macon native who had the desire to head north and sounds it every time he gooses a lament with one of the trademark keens that signify the escape he never achieved. He brought out the best in soul pro Jerry Ragovoy, who made Tate's records jump instead of arranging them into submission, and gave him lyrics with some wit to them besides. In return, Ragovoy brought out the best in Tate.”

Despite the magical team up on early singles and a debut album, Tate recorded his second album without Ragovoy, instead working with Lloyd Price and Johnny Nash. Released in 1969, Howard Tate’s Reaction is more uptown soul than the grittier southern soul of its predecessor, but it’s another recognition worthy collection of performances.

Ragovoy and Tate reunited for 1972’s eponymous Howard Tate. This time an Atlantic release. Critics knock this album as being a notch below Ragovoy’s best songwriting, but I think it’s a worthy piece of Tate’s catalog. Tate sounds great, as always, and there are a couple of really explosive, interesting covers. The Band’s Jemima Surrender and this one.

Bob Dylan’s Girl From the North Country. Listen to this voice.

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Howard Tate covering Bob Dylan’s Girl From the North County from 1972.

After recording a handful of additional songs—one single for Epic and a few for his own label—Tate retired from the music business. Frustrated with his lack of crossover, but downright bitter about how little he was paid for his successes, which again, included 3 top 20 R&B hits—he quit. Disappeared, really.

But not everyone was ready to forget. And while his name would fade from memories over the coming decades, Howard Tate’s impact was undeniable.

One of Tate’s heroes, BB King, covered Ain’t Nobody Home. So did Bonnie Raitt.

Ry Cooder and Grand Funk covered Look At Granny Run Run

Jimi Hendrix covered Stop

Foghat covered Eight Days on the Road and so did the one and only queen if soul.

And not everyone forgot. Tate’s old partner, record producer and chief songwriter Jerry Ragovoy made many attempts to track down his old friend over the years. He contacted old business associates and got them in on the search. They all came up empty.

A New Jersey DJ named Phil Casden had developed somewhat of an obsession with Tate’s whereabouts. Casden hosted a weekly radio show, spinning soul, blues and R&B and had taken to asking his listeners for any information about the missing (by this time) cult soul legend.

Even Verve, Tate’s old record company, had given up trying to track down the long retired crooner. The 1995 CD reissue of Tate’s Verve sessions included liner notes that flat out said: Howard Tate is probably dead.

''It wasn't sufficient to leave a story like that open-ended,'' Mr. Casden said. ''I had to find out: 'Is the guy alive? Is he dead?' There had to be something more than, 'He just rode off into the sunset.' ''

In 2001 the mystery was solved. Ron Kennedy, singer of Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes recognized Tate at a grocery store and the old pals played catch up after nearly 30 years. They exchanged numbers. Kennedy put the New Jersey DJ, Casden, in touch with Tate. Casden enthusiastically announced the good news to his listeners and the soul fanatics across the internet. Howard Tate was alive! He even put Tate in touch with a lawyer to help him recoup past royalties from his reissues.

Apparently Tate had quite a loyal following overseas. Eventually, a British journalist reached out to Tate’s old partner-producer Jerry Ragovoy for a reaction. The only problem was, Ragovoy didn’t have a reaction to give because he didn’t know Tate had been found. Ragovoy was elated at the news. After reconnecting with his long lost friend and confirming he was doing well, the next thing on his mind: could Howard Tate still sing?

Before we answer that, let’s answer this: where had Tate been all those years after walking away from the music?

After becoming resentful and disheartened by his missing paydays, Tate decided to go missing himself. He didn’t intentionally go into hiding, he just bailed on the industry that he felt wronged had him.

He worked as a securities dealer with Prudential for a while and then darkness hit. He lost his 13-year-old daughter in a house fire. In 1981, after 20 years, his marriage fell apart. Soon after, Tate unraveled too. He tumbled into drug addiction and lost everything. He lived on the streets for years, struggling to get by and feed his habit. Finally, in the mid 90s, he started to climb out of the hole. He cleaned up and found god. He became a minister and dedicated his life to helping the poor and homeless.

And that brings us up to the moment of his big reunion with Jerry Ragovoy and loyal fans awareness that Howard Tate was alive and well after all those years. But now more than your die hard R&B/soul enthusiasts were interested.

But did he still have that voice? Could Howard still sing?

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Uh, yeah. Jerry Ragovoy was stunned at how strong Tate sounded after decades of being out of the game. And he was REALLY out of the game. Howard claims he never sang a note all those years. Not until Jerry approached him about recording a comeback album and got him into the studio. Tate also says he had no clue that Janis, B.B., Jimi, Ry or any of the others had ever covered his songs or took an interest in his music.

Howard and Jerry recorded a new album in 2003. It’s called Rediscovered. And remember that Elvis Costello quote from the intro to this episode? Elvis called Tate the missing link between Jackie Wilson and Al Green. Tate asked Costello to write a song for his new album and he agreed.

Let’s here that now. From his comeback album, Rediscovered, more than 3 decades in the making, here’s Howard Tate with Either Side of the Same Town, written by Elvis Costello.

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That was Either Side of the Same Town from Howard Tate’s first album after 30 hears away from the music business. But not his last.

Tate had quite the victory lap. He made numerous tv, radio and festival appearances in the ten years after his reemergence. He recorded two more studio full lengths and a live album. On December 2nd, 2011, Tate passed away of complications of multiple myeloma and leukemia.

With a superb first act and a spectacular resurrection that led to the near doubling of his recorded output, there’s plenty of Tate music to check out and enjoy.

Other sources for this segment are listed below.

I referenced several NPR features in this episode, including the obituary they did for Tate.

Deep Southern Soul - This blog did a great post on Howard Tate. Lots of other good stuff here, but they recently announced they are closing up.

Gadfly Online - Another nice write up on Tate and his back story.

New Jersey new feature - The clip of Howard talking is from this segment. They did a feature on Tate’s rediscovery.

Trunkworthy - Post about Tate and his comeback. This site digs into music, movies and TV you might have missed. They also did a post about the Elvis Costello song featured in this episode. Elvis’ version is on The Delivery Man album.

New York Times Obituary for Howard Tate

The Guardian Obituary for Howard Tate

Billboard Magazine, July 26, 2003 - Article about Howard’s return after 30 years.

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