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sparkly-angell · 5 years

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Carols from the Past

Bucky Barnes flash Bingo Holiday Card 3 - Jingle Bells

“All I want for Christmaaaaas…” Tony jumped down from his living room couch, wobbling on his legs but successfully holding himself together, even in his drunkish state. He took a deep breath, pointing his index finger at Bucky while his other hand held the remote control close to his mouth, in a foolish impersonation of a mic, “It’s yooooooooooooooooou!!!!!!!!!!”

His voice cracked right at the end, and Bucky bursted into a joyful laugh, Tony following right after. He couldn’t hold himself anymore, he’d been biting his lips the entire time Tony performed this karaoke version of this Christmas song, but the poor state his boyfriend was in barely helped him stay composed.

Tony hadn’t been able to hold himself, no, Bucky snorted fondly, lost in thought as he danced in front of the television. He had been so eager to show Bucky everything about Christmas traditions and its entanglement with the pop culture of the 21th century, they started celebrating on the 24th.

“Relax,” Tony had said when he asked if they weren’t starting things too early, “there are a lot of countries that celebrate Christmas on the 24th. Just sit back and enjoy. I want you to have fun.” his eyes had shone, very much alive.

It was technically the first time Bucky would be celebrating Christmas after finding himself in this new century, and even if it was overwhelming, because even his best friend seemed to know how things worked nowadays, Tony helped him navigate through it all with ease.

“I want the Christmas Eve to be just the two of us.” Bucky had said, hoping that if he had a preview of what would be happening in the next day with all the Avengers included, he would be able to enjoy it more.

Tony had agreed without a second thought, and promptly arranged everything they would need for that day. That’s how they ended up where they were now, in the genious’ penthouse drinking an unholy amount of eggnog and singing these traditional christmas songs.

Even though Bucky couldn’t get drunk, his blood still coursed through him lazily, giving him the perfect headspace he needed to enjoy the holiday. Maybe he was drunk with love, he pondered, looking as Tony babbled on about the next song he would sing.

He was at peace as sat back on the couch, drinking his eggnog and watching with mirth as Tony hips moved recklessly in what Bucky was sure he thought was sexy, but ended bordering adorable, to the rhythm of bells from the new song he chose to eviscerate.

Tony cleared his throat, gave him a clumsy wink, and started singing.

“Dashing through the snoooow…” Bucky rolled his eyes at the smaller man’s performance. His lover was many things, but a good singer was not one of them. “In a one-horse open sleeeeigh,” Bucky frowned, nostalgia hitting him in the guts.

He knew that song.

Flashes of his younger self singing it with Steve rose in his mind. For a moment, he was back in Brooklyn, with his Ma and Stevie, eating turkey and huddling together near the fireplace, singing happily to the tunes from a nicer time.

Tony’s voice brought him to the present, although with a small twinge from his heart at the new (old) memory. He smiled as his lover stumbled closer, stretching a hand for him, and Bucky went with it.

He rose from the couch and rested his hands on Tony’s hips as the man lead them to the center of the living room, where they had previously moved away the coffee table so they could dance. He enjoyed the feeling all on his own, listening Tony sing his childhood song for a while, before the urge to join in overtook his abilities to stay put.

He joined Tony on the chorus.

“Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way! Oh what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh!” he got so involved with the music, he hadn't realized Tony had completely frozen between his arms, and looked at him open mouthed, until he opened his eyes and looked at Tony.

“What, sweetheart?” he asked, the smile on his face never phazing.

“You know this song.” Tony’s question sounded more like a statement than it probably should.

Bucky snorted and kissed Tony right next to his lips.

“Of course, you dummy. Some songs are older than me.”

Tony mock gasped. “That can’t be true, you are ancient.” Bucky giggled.

“That makes this song what? Prehistoric?”

Tony nodded eagerly, but a tiny smile creeping on his face broke his acting, “Most likely.”

A beat of silence, both looking into each other’s eyes before breaking into a set of loud laughs. Tony was breathless by the end of it.

“No, but seriously.” Bucky cleaned the tears from his eyes after he got himself under control, hands going back around his tiny boyfriend hips. “Isn’t this a Thanksgiving song?”

Tony tilted his head to the side, frowning. He swirled Bucky’s long locks with his finger as he answered. “No?”

“Are you sure? Cause I’m almost a hundred percent sure we sang it on Thanksgiving.”

“Jarvis?” he asked, not taking his eyes from Bucky’s. The music had ended a few seconds ago, yet they still swayed slightly, both oblivious they were doing it.

“Sergeant Barnes is correct. The song was initially written for Thanksgiving festivities in the late nineteenth century, although became a known Christmas song in the beginning of the twentieth century, the exact date is a mystery, I’m afraid.”

“Thanks Jarvs.” Tony said, blinking at the new discovery. “Well… we live and learn, don’t we?”

“Yup.” Bucky said, popping the ‘p’ stronger than necessary. He gave in the urge to lean down and kiss Tony properly, heart beating faster as Tony let out an approvingly hum and brought their bodies closer.

The kiss heated up quickly. They broke apart, both panting for air as they flushed their chests together. Tony smirked mischievously.

“I still haven’t shown you the best part of Christmas yet, sugar.”

Bucky raised a single eyebrow.

“Oh? Show me, then.”

#bbbflash #buckybarnesbingo2019 #winteriron #fic #flash bingo #bbb2019 #bucky barnes #bucky #winter soldier #iron man #tony stark #christmas theme

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guksauce · 5 years

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✨Paradise✨

Description: Ryung finds herself caught in a dream she never thought she’d have after receiving an invitation by her older brother, Kim Nam-joon, to join him on the road with 6 other members of Worldwide famous, BTS.

Word count- 4,652k

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Chapter 1 •Guilt•

“Ryung, are you almost ready? We’re going to be late sis.” My ears perked up when my brother called from the bottom of the stairs and I was reminded of the journey I was about to take. Namjoon stood at the door to hold it open for me and tapped his foot to whatever rhythm was pulsing through his soul. I couldn’t help but admire him, smirking for just a moment before I came hopping down the stairs.

“What are you smiling at?” He asked, amusement written all over his face as he ruffled my hair.

“Making fun of you for being so impatient, Joonie.” I said and pushed past him, winking. He chuckled happily and helped me shove my bag into the trunk and raised his eyes to me.

“Its good to have you around again kid.” He said, gently pinching my chin with a smile before retreating to the driver’s side.

The drive felt almost too short as I watched the world pass by until we pulled up to BigHits studio and climbed out. My mind was still stuck on one of the songs we sang together in the car, our faces; ridiculous attempts at corny performances as I hummed the tune quietly and walked through the front entrance. We laughed in the car on the way here between chorus’s and rolled the windows down as we drove across the bridge to let everyone hear how much fun we were having. Not a care in the world.

I hadn’t seen Namjoon in probably 5 years. As soon as he moved out, he was on to bigger and better things than working in our family’s small street restaurant. Before long he was the leader of a group called BTS. One that had now become worldwide famous, and impressively so. Our parents couldn’t be prouder regardless of the pain it brought them. Almost every year since BTS debuted, they’ve been on tour and television and radio and numerous other entertainment shows, and only were able to visit home every so often. By the time he was available to come home, I would be studying at school and working, though I could have very well asked to come home to spend time with him after having not seen him for so long. Through all of it we tried to stay in touch. He understood that I was just trying to make a life for myself and did nothing but encourage me. We are close in a nonconventional way and it works, though the guilt I feel for not knowing as much as I should about my brothers passion is overbearing sometimes.

“They’re very excited to meet you. Hoseok and Yoongi have been asking about you all week.” I looked to Namjoon, my eyes squinting in the sunlight, and grinned.

“How unusual for Yoongi.” We grinned at each other, sharing a look of equal sarcasm as we walked inside.

The hallways were bustling with life, BigHit worker bee’s buzzing around, getting all the necessary things done to assure the best outcome for when it came time for BTS to take the stage again. I was impressed with how focused everyone seemed to be. But even through their professional state, they all bowed to Joonie and me and greeted us individually as we made our way to the dance practice room. Just as we reached the door I stopped in my tracks and balled my hands into fists. Taking a deep breath, I already felt oddly out of place in this building and I hadn’t even met the most important people.

“What’s wrong Ry?” Namjoon’s hand rested on the handle, turning it slowly as he looked at me and my heart skipped a beat in my chest as I threw my hands forward.

“Wait! Wait, wait…” I started and cleared my throat. “What if they don’t like me Joonie?” I asked quietly and he stared at me blankly for what seemed like forever as I waited for him to give me an honest answer. It surprised me, to say the least, when he threw his head back and started laughing manically, slapping the wall to keep himself from doubling over. I started to laugh as well but it quickly turned into a groan of annoyance when he finally composed himself and spoke calmly, trying to catch his breath.

“Aaiishhh, my stomach. I’m sorry, but that’s hilarious. And insane by the way. They love everyone. They will definitely like you.” He said, trying valiantly to wash away the nervous breakdown I was about to have, and pushed open the door, holding his hand out to me. Thankfully, taking it made my stomach stop churning so much and I took another deep breath, stepping through the threshold with him. He kept me behind him at first and I gripped the back of his shirt for an extra boost of confidence.

“Hey guys.” Namjoon said to the group of men I knew were standing in front of him. I could hear heavy breathing and giant gulps of water as they all came walking up to him.

“You’re late hyung.” A low voice spoke, and I could feel Namjoon’s body shake with a chuckle.

“Yeah, I know, I’m sorry. I brought a surprise with me though.” He said.

“A surprise? Where?” Another of the members asked, the voice soft and fluffy, like a cloud. I took the opportunity to peak my head around Joonie’s arm and smiled.

“RYUNG-SSI!” Hoseok yelled, the first of them all to notice and he pulled me from my hiding spot to trap me in a hug. I giggled as he lifted me off my feet and spun me before letting me back down.

“Look at you Ryung-ssi, you’ve grown up! You’re so beautiful!” He exclaimed in perfect English and took my hand, lifting it so he could spin me around. I laughed and hugged him again.

“Me? Listen to you Hobi, your English is so good now! I’m proud of you!” His smile grew wider so as he looked up to Namjoon.

“You can thank your brother for that. He’s been teaching all of us.” I heard Yoongi say as he approached us and enveloped me in a hug. It was my turn to be surprised. Over the years Joonie would facetime me almost every other night, to check on me, our parents, and to make sure everything was going ok at home while he was on the road, and Yoongi and Hobi were always with him. I felt like I knew both well, and that being said, Yoongi never struck me as the kind of person that would, of his own will, accept physical contact of any form. I was flattered and It made me smile as I cuddled a little deeper in his arms before he could pull away.

“Guys this is my little sister, Ryung.” Joonie announced to the others and continued to introduce me to the rest of the members, pointing first to the one with the fluffy pink hair.

“This is Jimin.” Jimin was beautiful. His face was flawless, though all their faces were, and his eyes turned into cute crescent moons as he smiled at me and waved.

“Its nice to meet you Ryung-ssi.”

“This is Jin.” He pointed to the next. He was tall and broad shouldered, but his features were soft and playful as he smiled and pointed at himself.

“That’s me. You can just call me Worldwide Handsome. It rolls off the tongue better.” He joked, or didn’t joke, either way it made me giggle as he waved just as Jimin had. “Its nice to meet you.”

The next was already smiling from ear to ear a smile SO boxy it made me squeal and pinch his cheeks, to which he did the same to me and laughed.

“Namjoon-hyung, she’s like a puppy!” Tae. I recognized him as much as I did the others, through magazine covers and funny video’s that would appear on my social media accounts. Much like Jimin, he was utterly adorable, and I had also been so excited to meet him one day. Behind me, Joonie laughed and clapped his hands at our silly show of affection. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you Ryung-ssi.” He said in perfect English, his accent only adding more adorableness to him.

“You too Taehyung.” I turned to Namjoon, releasing Tae’s face, and praised him for his English teaching. I’d seen interviews of him online talking about how watching Friends helped him learn English. It always gave me a sense of pride and nostalgia, remembering the late nights we would stay up during summer holiday, gorging ourselves on chips and too many soft drinks while we copied what the actors were saying. I would always get so mad at him for picking on me while we tried to learn, but then would always end up laughing at each other when we would get it wrong.

The last of the men to greet me was one I had avoided eye contact with since Joonie and I walked through the door. There was nothing wrong with him…God, everything about him is so right. I really didn’t know anything about him but much like the interviews, pictures of his latest outfit or selfies, always float around my social media.

“And this is Jungkook.” He had his arms crossed as he leaned to the right with his head tilted just slightly as he examined his shoes. His hair had grown since the last time I saw him in a video or picture. It suits him really well. I thought as he lifted his eyes to me for the first time and smiled a small smile, bowing his head briefly, giving me ample opportunity to watch as his hair fell just over his eyes before waving.

“Nice to meet you.” He said quickly and I returned the bow.

“You as well Jungkook.” I replied, a little disappointed by how uninterested he seemed as well as distracted, but I smiled anyway hoping to ease the tension written in his body language somehow.

“Alright guys.” Namjoon stepped forward, resting his hand on my shoulder, and flashed a toothy smile. “Let’s get to work.”

I was mesmerized by their ability to dance and stay together. I was as clumsy as they came so it was satisfying to see them move as a unit. They were perfect in every way, hitting every beat of the music with ease. I smiled in the mirror when Jimin pointed at me during one of the songs and blushed when their bodies rolled effortlessly in time with the song they danced to now. It was one I hadn’t heard yet but loved. I heard one of the staff say it was called ‘Dimple’. It was catchy and cute and made it hard not to move along with it. So as not to be a distraction, I saved myself the embarrassment of trying to dance in front of them, and settled with just swaying my hips side to side until the song was over.

I made the mistake of clapping when they were done. Not that I didn’t want to but the room was unexpectedly silent for at least 3 dozen people to have just watched 7 men kick ass, the only audible noise the sound of their heavy breathing, but I was just so impressed with their performance that it was inevitable. They all looked to me in the reflection of the mirror they danced in front of with confused faces along with all the staff in the room with us. So much for embarrassing myself…

Putting my hands down, I gripped them behind my back and leaned against the wall, looking away from the mirror as they all came running over for a drink of water.

“Thank you. For clapping, I mean. No one ever claps for us here because it’s just practice, but that was a nice feeling.” Jin’s voice was clear and kind as I looked up at him. He smiled and gently pinched my chin between his fingers before walking away with his water, plopping down onto the floor.

“AISSHHH IM SO TIRED!” He yelled and sprawled out like a starfish, the others following suit. I was thankful for his yelling diverting the unwanted and awkward attention I was feeling. I built up the courage to leave the wall and sat in the middle of the group as they relaxed.

“You guys are incredible. That was amazing. No wonder army loves you so much.” It was true, I could see now why their fanbase was so vast and supportive. They worked hard to show them everything they had, every time and I felt lucky to be a part of it all.

(LATER THAT NIGHT)

“So, this is how you spend your evenings? It’s nice to have a meal like this together.” The rest of the day had gone by quickly and the night was coming to an end as we all crowded around the table in Namjoon’s hotel room. Boxes of local Asian cuisine covered every inch of its rectangular surface while we all dug into the different choices, some noodles here, some chicken there. They all hummed agreements to my question and statement and continued to stuff themselves with their chopsticks. It reminded me of those moments in anime when the characters would shovel whatever they were eating into their mouths wildly and with a quickness. That’s exactly what they all were, great characters.

“Yeah, we try to come together whenever we can to talk about any questions or concerns about any upcoming shows. We also take this time to talk about how were feeling and doing. Kind of like a check-up to make sure everything is going smoothly.” Yoongi explained and slurped up another noodle from his bowl.

I smiled, looking down at the takeout box in my hand, halfway empty with noodles. Without meeting their gazes, I took a moment to think through what I was going to say to them next. The day with them all proved to me just how close they all were as I watched them interact with each other. Especially how they behaved with Joonie. It proved to me just how much I didn’t know about my brother and his personality and his family. I felt…well…guilty for not being more involved in his life and with the people that meant the most to him.

“Thank you, guys, for taking care of Joonie. He’s found something very special here with all of you.” I spoke softly but jumped when Hoseok sat up straight and coughed up part of his food, grains of sticky rice falling from his lips as he laughed.

“JOONIE?!” He exclaimed with his eyes wide and a hearty laugh escaping him as Tae patted him on the back, joining in on the laughter with the others.

“I don’t need taken care of!” Namjoon yelled and faked a pout.

“What a cute nick-name! Joonie!” Hoseok managed to shout this time without spitting his food out onto himself and the floor.

“Baby Joonie.” Yoongi said and smiled a cheesy smile, sticking his tongue out at Namjoon who rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Aaisshh! Cut it out! Ryung-ssi, why did you have to say that around them?”

“Ow! he’s blushing!” Jin said and laughed, swatting at his knee, almost laughing himself off the end of the couch, making Namjoon point and laugh.

Watching them together was like…watching Friends with my brother all those years ago. He was smiling and laughing like we used to when we were kids, his whole aura lighting up like a Christmas tree the more they bothered him about my nickname for him in the same way he would pick on me for not being able to say the name ‘Rachel’ right for the first few months of our English experiment. Everything went into slow motion as they all laughed together and picked on one another. I felt myself shrinking further away as I listened to their voices blend together, thinking that if I said anything, it would be like a knife. I don’t want to cut into this…

Setting my noodles on the table, I stood, unsure of where exactly I was going to go but knowing I needed to get out of there now before I ruined the mood for them. I put on a show of yawning and stretching my arms high above my head so that none of them would find my change in my demeanor suspicious before making my way to the door and out stepped into the hallway without bothering them. I lent against the door after shutting it behind me, their presence trying to pull me back into the room to enjoy the fun of bullying my brother with them, but my room was just 3 doors down. The crisp white sheet and fluffy pillows on the bed were beckoning me to lay down. It seemed best that I let them have their time together.

2 Hours later I heard them all come shuffling down the hallway, splitting up in different directions to their own rooms for the night and I sighed, sinking down further under my blanket. 3 knocks at my door made me sit up rod straight, thinking maybe it was Joonie coming to ask me why I left so suddenly. I panicked and looked around in my mind, desperately searching for an explanation or excuse that would be suitable enough to not make him worry. Climbing out of bed I tied my robe around me tight and walked to the door, raking my hand through my hair worriedly as I swung it open and started talking immediately.

“I’m so sorry I left so soon Joon…ie…oh. Hi, Jungkook?” To my surprise, Namjoon wasn’t on the other side of the door but rather the last person I expected to come knocking on my door in the middle of the night. A fluttering feeling rumbled in my chest as he stood over me, a smirk settling on his lips when I realized it was him.

“Hi. I uh…just wanted to check on you. You left without saying anything earlier, so…” He said nervously, rubbing the back of his head. I took my hand from my hair and nodded, stepping to the side.

“Would it be ok if we talked for a little bit?” I asked and he nodded. Now was as good a time as any to get over this ridiculous feeling. What better way than to dive right in?

“Of course.” He walked through the door and followed me out onto the balcony. We leaned against the railing and looked out over the city. The air was warm, and the neighborhood was busy, the nightlife buzzing quickly around the streets, the lights bright and the people brighter regardless of the dark sky.

“Namjoon is doing so well.” I said and stared at a neon sign in one of the restaurants windows across the street. We stayed quiet like this for what felt like an hour as I collected my thoughts. “I don’t feel like I should be here.” I stated honestly. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jungkook look in my direction and rest his chin in his palm.

“Why do you feel like that? Has something happened?” He asked and I shook my head vigorously.

“No, no, not at all! I…” I turned to him then and stuck my hands out in front of me, afraid I had offended him. “No, you guys have been wonderful to me since I arrived, really. I just…Let me start over.” I insisted and I sat in one of the chairs, shaking my head clear as he followed suit waiting for me to try again. “I don’t really know what I’m feeling. I feel like a terrible sister for not spending more time with Joonie. I feel like I’m interrupting something I have no right to be a part of because I haven’t been here since the beginning like I should have been. I feel like…I’m in the way. I don’t know what to talk about when I’m around all of you, though I really should because you guys and all of this is such a huge part of my brother’s life and I’ve just missed all of it. But also because you’re all so awesome. I’m mad at myself for not trying harder to be with him or to visit while you guys were touring. I feel so selfish for picking myself over him, for not being better…I could have been better.” My words were starting to turn into mumbled sobs by the end and I couldn’t control the tears that kept threatening to spill out as one dropped from my bottom lashes.

“Hey, woah. Don’t cry princess. Hey, its okay.” He spoke softly, just barely over a whisper and reached out to me. He cupped his hands over my cheeks and used his thumbs to wipe away the tears that ran down to my chin. “Look, Namjoon…is not the type to care about that stuff. I’m sure he doesn’t mind that you were trying to live your life. You’re his baby sister no matter where you go and no matter what happens. Why would he bring you here if he didn’t want you here? Why would he bring you here if he had even the slightest doubt that you wouldn’t fit in with the rest of us. He must have seen something in us that reminded him of you, to make him want so badly for you to come all this way to meet us.” I kept my eyes shut as I listened to him speak and focused on the timber of his voice, soft and calming. He gently pinched my chin and lifted it, making me open my eyes and look at him for the first time since id started babbling. I found myself swimming in dark honey orbs. I was acutely aware now, of the term of endearment he’d used just moments ago, and tried with all my might not to let the blush I could feel coming on get out of hand as he continued to speak.

“The way you pinched Tae’s cheeks was the first real signal I got that you belong with us. And he called you a puppy. He loves puppies. If that isn’t a sign, I don’t know what is.” He chuckled, the smile spreading on his face reaching his eyes this time, reminding me of how coldly he looked at me when we first got to practice earlier today. I made a mental note to confront him about it at a later time.

I looked over his face, memorizing every detail while he kept hold of my cheeks and made sure to get every tear that spilled from me. His skin was flawless, the bridge of his nose; thin and sculpted to perfection, his eyes dark and smoldering. His lips were plump and pink and parted slightly, revealing his white teeth. And just under his bottom lip was a single beauty mark, right in the center. An imperfection that couldn’t possibly be able to make him more attractive yet somehow it did.

“You don’t have to worry any more about whether or not you fit in here. Just be yourself and I promise you’ll be ok.”

He was right and I knew it already. I knew my thoughts were silly, but I genuinely didn’t want to pop up in the middle of something my brother was already so immersed in. I swallowed and clenched my jaw as I dropped my eyes to the floor and nodded. He pushed back my hair, curling it around my ear, his fingertips tickling the sensitive skin on my neck at the base of my ear as I looked back up at him. His smile was enough to make he feel better.

“Hello, anyone home?” Jungkook and I jumped back away from each other as though we’d both been doing something we shouldn’t have and cleared our throats. Trying to keep my heartbeat at a safe pace, I swallowed once more for extra measure and called out to my brother who I could see through the blinds checking the bathroom to see if I was there.

“Out here Joonie!” I called and stole a glance at Jungkook. He had sunk further into the chair he sat in and pulled his phone out from his pocket. I giggled at his attempt to look normal, though he didn’t need to try so hard.

“There you are. I was wondering where you went.” Namjoon said, stepping outside onto the balcony with us. He glanced down at Jungkook and then back to me. I couldn’t quite gauge the expression on his face, a mix between good and bad. “Hey Jungkook.” He said.

“Hello Hyung-ssi.” Junkook replied, standing to lean against the balcony railing again.

“I just came to say goodnight and to tell you to prepare for a day outside. We got the day off tomorrow and there’s a beach we always come to when were home and have some time off. It’s just a little out of town so that’s where we will be going. You brought your swimming gear, right?” Joonie asked with a wide smile and gave me 2 thumbs up when I nodded briskly. “Alright come here.” He scooped me up in a hug he didn’t know I needed, and I wrapped my arms around his torso tighter than I normally would have, nuzzling my face into his chest.

“Are you ok sis?” He asked me in English, reminding me again of who my brother is. I nodded against his chest before pulling away.

“Alright, get some sleep. Ill see you in the morning.” He said and kissed the top of my head before heading back to his room, but not before taking another questioning look in Jungkook’s direction.

Jungkook turned to me then and I gave him no warning before hugging him too, tightly like I did for Joonie and listened to his heartbeat. It took him a moment, but he finally thawed and wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on top of my head.

“Thank you for talking with me tonight. You really made some things clear to me. I feel a lot better about my place here.” I whispered and heard him huff a small laugh through his nose as he squeezed me a little tighter, rubbing my back in slow circles.

“No problem. I’m here to listen if anything ever bothers you. I’m here for you for anything if you need it.” He also spoke in English, his accent making a few of the words sound a little off but it was so cute I didn’t even care. It was just more proof that with these 7 men was, no, IS exactly where I needed to be. I vowed to be more open and more myself when I was around them from now on.

Giving Jungkook one more squeeze, I walked him to the door and thanked him again. He bowed and quickly gave my chin a small grab before leaving me to my thoughts for the night. New thoughts now, positive and happy, flooded my mind in place of the ones that had been building walls in my head. That night was the first in weeks that I drifted peacefully off to sleep, without any problem, to the hum of the city below.

{Hello everyone! I hope all of you are doing well and learning to love yourself through all of it. This is my first time posting a BTS fan fiction, so I hope I’ve done a good job. Let me know what you think if you decide to give it a read! To all my fellow army, I love you! Enjoy, lovely’s! -MissJK❣️}

#bts fanfic #jungkook #btsarmy #bts rm #fanfiction

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shankarjaikishanfansassnintl · 4 years

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INFINITE SHADES OF GREY : A tribute to Hemant Kumar on his 100th birthday

Monday, June 15, 2020

Flashback of my long meeting with Hemant Kumar 34 years ago

Raju Korti

After years of longing, I finally managed to catch up with legendary composer, singer and producer Hemant Kumar in 1984, just five years before he passed to leave an unfilled vacuum. He was well past his prime then but his composing and singing instincts were as impeccable. As a keen devotee of film music, thanks to those golden fifties, sixties and early seventies, I nursed an abiding regret of not being able to meet the man about whom I had read and heard so much. As I write this blog, there is a tangential satisfaction to that anguish that it is better late than never. I have no answer to why I didn't write about the intensive interaction I had with him all these years but as an apology of a consolation, I am happy that this blog coincides with his 100th birthday today (June 16).

I will never forget the long, searching look Hemant Da gave me when we met. Dressed in white pyjamas and a long kurta, his six-plus feet lanky frame towered above my diminutive 5-plus feet. Having recovered from an acute heart condition, he looked pale, drawn and weak. Apparently, he was incredulous that someone who had just stepped into his thirties could even think of talking to a veteran who was been-there-done-that. I had to pull myself together before I lent credence to his apparent misgivings. He was accompanied by playback singer Aarti Mukherjee (of 'Saara mora kajra chhudaya tune' fame) who did not take any part in the three-hour conversation except occasional nods and smiles. "Hemant Da, they always talk about the two faculties that you straddled so brilliantly -- as a composer and a singer. So who's better between the two?" I asked him. "I can't put my finger on any one of them. Both are an inseparable parts of my musical instincts. Although, I began as a short story writer, my mind was into music. So I quit Engineering despite vehement opposition from my father. Mind you, one of my short stories won critical literary acclaim when I was barely sixteen but I was prepared to chuck that talent for Rabindra Sangeet." Hemant Da's predilection towards his passion was right on target as within a year he became a singer for All India Radio, his deeply baritone vocals tailor-made to take on the depth of Tagore's compositions. "In those days, my singing hero was Pankaj Mullick and I use to ape him so well that I was nicknamed Chhota Pankaj. But beyond this hero worship, I regret I could not get my teeth into rigorous classical music. It is a regret I will carry to my grave," he said. Having followed Hemant Da's career closely, I could see that the lack of adequate classical music -- by his own admission -- was no handicap, especially in films. In the early forties, his contemporary was King Talat Mehmood whose chaste Urdu diction and rendition of ghazals had made him a darling of the masses. Mohammed Rafi, who later went on to become the premier singer of the industry, was just struggling to gain a toehold while Mukesh had just got going. Kishore Kumar was nowhere on the scene. As someone carrying the stamp and legacy of Rabindra Sangeet, Hemant Da found himself at variance with the genre of film songs. That, however, wasn't a handicap as he had the prime examples of Sachin Dev Burman and Salil Choudhury, both Dadas in every sense of the word. Another Dada was in the making to join this exalted company. "It was in the early forties that I hitched onto the Indian People's Theatre Association (IPTA), a Left-leaning body which had composer and song writer Salil Da as one of its mainstays. I was in the midst of some musical greats and it was particularly satisfying that Rabindra Sangeet was a common chord that ran through us," Hemant Da recalled. "I wasn't doing badly at all, composing for Bengali films, but when Filmistan made Anandmath in 1951 and I was asked to compose its music, I decided to explore Mumbai, the Mecca of film music. The film was a moderate success but a then raw Lata's Vande Mataram struck perfect patriotic notes and made people sit up and take notice. Then came Shart where I did my own bidding with Na ye chaand hoga." "But wasn't this a turning point for you? Dev Anand happened," I asked him. "Na ye chaand hoga was just the platform. Ye raat ye chaandni (Jaal), Chup hai dharti chup hai chaand sitaare and Teri duniya mein jeene se (House No 44), Hai apna dil to awaara (Solva Saal) and Na tum hame jaano (Baat Ek Raat Ki) happened because Burman Dada was convinced I could fit on Dev Anand's lips," Hemant Da reminisced, pointing out that in the years to come, he steered himself with his own talent through Naagin, Duniya Jhukti Hai, Bees Saal Baad, Bin Badal Barsaat, Kohra and Anupama. The interesting aside here is this was the same Burman Dada who before being a guide to Hemant Da was contemplating to quit and go back to Calcutta because the scene in Mumbai didn't appeal to his Bengali ethos. Such was Hemant Da's unflinching belief in the potential of Rabindra Sangeet that in those days he was considered as only next to Mullick in the intricacies of that genre ahead of seniors like Burman Dada and Salil Da. This hierarchy was also with its anomalies. Burman Da understood little or nothing of Hindi. He needed to understand the mood of the song and its words written in Bengali before he could employ his compositional genius. Hemant Da was in comparison much more comfortable, having come from the Hindi hinterland of Benares. He was also very much in tune with the musical philosophy of Salil Da and although it didn't show much in his (Hemant Da's) compositions, he had as much flair and understanding of the symphonies, notably among them being Bach. Naagin made Hemant Da a household name. For many, that was no big surprise as composer Ravi who he assisted for many years, told him that given his talent, it was time he started going his own way. The film's feet-tapping music with a string of Lata hits as also his solos and duets, was a revelation as against the three-hour visual atrocity on the viewers. People rather went to 'hear' the movie than 'see' it. The film won him a Filmfare Award. But Hemant Da preferred to dwell on mid-1955 when he sang four solos for the legendary Uttam Kumar. It was the beginning of an enduring friendship and their chemistry showed they were the most poplar singer-actor combination holding an unchallenged sway for almost a decade. Hemant Da lapsed into nostalgia as I mentioned to him that period when he was composing for a lot of Bengali and Hindi films while jealously guarding his roots in Rabindra music. "I was at the peak of my career then as a composer and singer. The best was I was singing for maestros like Nachiket Ghosh, Robin Chatterjee and Salil Choudhury. Some of my songs were remakes or improvisations of the Bengali original. I also hobnobbed with production. Bees Saal Baad, Kohra and Khamoshi were produced by me. Neel Akasher Neeche was directed by Mrinal Sen and went on to bag the President's Gold Medal after an unsavoury controversy." Bees Saal Baad and Kohra forged a wonderful relationship with Biswajeet. After almost an hour, Hemant Da was coming to the perception that for a youngster, I had done my home work fairly well as I mentioned his one song after the other in the course of the meeting. A faint smile creased his face when I mentioned to him that in the bevy of beauties that he sang, my favourites happened to be the 1955 Sardar Malik beauty filmed on Prem Nath 'Mai garibo ka dil hoon watan ki zubaan' (Aab-e Hayat) and a duet with Geeta Dutt from Detective (1958) 'Mujh ko tum jo mile ye jahaan mil gaya' (Fabulous use of Hawaii guitar). He had a word of lament for Mukul Roy, Geeta's brother and the composer of that dulcet duet. "He was such a talented music director and understood the nuances of film music so well but it beats me why his career didn't pick up." In an era when he rubbed shoulders with the likes of Shankar Jaikishen, OP Nayyar, C Ramchandra, Naushad, Madan Mohan, Roshan, Hemant Da did not even once go in for lavish orchestrations. His accompaniments were minimal and the song carried itself on the weight of its sweetness. Hemant Da was particularly delighted when I pointed out how sublime Lata sounded in 'Chhup gaya koi re door se pukar ke' in that obscure film Champakali (1960). He seemed touched when I said it could give Madan Mohan's 'Chaand maddham hai' (Railway Platform/1957) a stiff competition. "I think Burman Dada's influence rubbed off on me. Even when it came to the choice of singers. I remember how he had singled me out to sing for Dev Anand when everyone else felt that my voice wouldn't suit his persona. See how Burman Da stood vindicated. In my career as composer, my choices have been guided by the demands of the song per se rather than factors like who was lip-synching the song and how many instruments I must employ to embellish it." "You tuned so well with Burman Dada and sang 12-13 songs for Dev Anand. What happened thereafter? I asked him. Hemant Da paused a little but the gentleman in him came to the fore. "I don't know what happened after Baat Ek Raat Ki. He never called and I didn't ask. I didn't think too much about it and got busy with my own work." Was it that on Burman Dada's exacting scale Hemant Da's voice had lost its baritone edge? Unlikely, as you know that the quality of his voice was still replete with the same refined sensitivity. I can vouch as I heard him in flesh and blood. "I used Mohammed Rafi and Kishore Kumar sparingly even at the peak of their careers. For that matter, I sang my own song only when it was absolutely called for. I shared a great working rapport with them and I was devastated when I lost two dear younger brothers -- Rafi and Uttam Kumar -- in a span of just one week. They were giants. Why didn't I work with them more? I loved Rafi's Dil ki aawaaz bhi sun (Humsaaya), Manna's Piya maine kya kiya (Us Paar), Mukesh's Woh tere pyaar ka gham. Even an otherwise exuberant Kishore was polite when he teamed up with me. He knew exactly what I wanted to deliver in Kashti ka khamosh safar hai (Girl Friend). I have memories of Rafi walking up to me and wanting to know the pronunciation of some Bengali words before he sang those songs. He was one singer who knew how to use the mike well -- like when to sing from the throat and when to sing from his navel." For all his modesty, Hemant Da could run a quick temper at times and did not hesitate to mince words. He revealed how he had warned Guru Dutt against the latter's penchant for changing his singers and composers at the last minute, citing the example of the 1962 classic Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam that had adultery as its theme. "I agreed only after Guru gave me an undertaking saying that only I was equipped to handle the music since it was set in the backdrop of Bengal." History was made before it was written. For a man on whom the Government of India issued a stamp posthumously in 2016 and had won a spate of awards and recognition, including two national Awards, Hemant Da didn't make much of this memorabilia. He never mentioned any of his songs when asked about his favourites. Having refused Padmashri in the 1970s, he also shunned Padma Bushman which was three years after I met him. More than three decades after his death music companies keep releasing his albums, repackaging his old songs. There are dime a dozen who copy Rafi, Kishore, Mukesh and don't admit so but I personally know many who take a great delight in unabashedly conceding that they love to imitate Hemant Da's style but are nowhere near. Close your eyes and hear the Kishore Kumar composed 1964 beauty from Door Gagan Ki Chhaon Mein: 'Raahi tu mat ruk jaana, toofan se mat ghabrana Kabhi to milegi teri manzil Kahin door gagan ki chhaon mein..' It may have been incommoded by KK's own 'Jin raaton ki bhor nahi hai' but has in sharp contrast hope and tranquility that make the song a quintessential Hemant Kumar from a school of music that qualifies to be a university of its own. PS: It needed a Hemant Kumar song for a film to be qualified as 'haunting'. And since the man was too modest to speak about his own songs, I will labour over my favourite HK solos and duets which I am sure might raise eyebrows for skipping songs which have hit higher popularity charts. Partly, my choices are influenced because you don't get to hear them much. So here I go. 1) Mai garibo ka dil hoon watan ki zubaan (Aab-e-Hayat/1955/Solo) 2) Mujh ko tum jo mile, ye jahaan mil gaya (Detective/1958/With Geeta Dutt) 3) Aa neele gagan tale pyaar hum kare (Baadshah/1954/With Lata) 4) Baharo se pucho nazaaro se pucho dil kyo deewana mera ho gaya (Fashion/1959/With Lata) 5) Nai manzil nayi raahen naya hai karvaan apna (Hill Station/1957/With Lata) 6) Raahi tu mat ruk jaana (Door Gagan Ki Chhaon Mein/1964/Solo) 7) Dekho wo chaand chup ke karta hai kya ishaare (Shart/1954/With Lata) 8) Zindagi kitni khubsoorat hai (Bin Badal Barsaat/1963/Solo HK version) 9) Jab jaag uthe armaan to kaise neend aaye (Bin Badal Barsaat/1963/Solo) 10) Ye nayan dare dare, ye jaam bhare bhare (Kohra/1964/Solo)

#Raju Korti #Hemant Kumar #Hemant Kumar Mukhopadhyay #Hemant Kumar Mukherjee #Hemant Mukherjee #Nagin #Bees Saal Baad #kohra #Khamoshi #music director #film music #bollywood #Arati Mukherjee

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jflashandclash · 7 years

Text

Attrition of Peace

Twenty-Six: Alabaster

Cock-Blocked by a Talking Head

Warning! There’s a mildly grotesque… thing (?) in this chapter. I’m not really sure it needs a warning or what that warning would fall under, but… you’ve been warned? Regardless, I hope you enjoy! Or love to hate it after the events of that last chapter! Your choice!

Alabaster hadn’t faced such a paralyzing conundrum in years: if he stood up, he might wake up Kally, but if he stayed where he was, he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Being this considerate was highly illogical.

What he should have been thinking about was what other ingredients he could mix that shape shifter’s ear with to make a more poignant transmodifcation potion or what he was going to do with the Pax brothers and their band of Ol-Sissies in the morning. In particular, how he was supposed to feed them, considering he remembered Axel tearing through half a box of cereal before Alabaster had his morning tea steeped.

But here he was: his heart panging erratically each time he or Kally moved in their shared sleeping bag. He didn’t know this girl. Well, he sort of knew her—he’d read her journal, about her mother, her adventures with the Pax brothers and her story ideas. But that shouldn’t have been enough. He wasn’t like Ajax, just falling in love—er—liking—er—infatuating over someone because. He had to think things through. They had to make sense.

This must have been Eros’ or Aphrodite’s folly. He refused to be their puppet, or fall to the whims of—

Until Kally shivered and he debated whether or not he should shift closer or put an arm around her. Was that horrendously inappropriate?

Relief came to him in the worst way possible: the sound of a guitar, a wretched song, and some shriek-mutterings.

“Oh, Jack must have escaped,” Alabaster muttered, wanting to groan.

“Escaped?” Kally asked, her voice too alert to have been sleeping. She sat up, and Alabaster saw their chance to go inside, though he couldn’t will himself to get up. He felt dumb for how much he liked sitting beside her. From the disconcerted look on her face, she might have been thinking the same thing.

“Claymore and I keep him gagged and locked up for safekeeping,” he said. With assigning everyone a room and everything with Pax, he’d forgotten their nightly ritual of detaining Jack. Plus, at Camp Othrys, they didn’t have to, and Alabaster couldn’t help but feel nostalgia with the Pax brothers around.

At her disturbed stare, Alabaster assured, “He should be okay. When he’s alone, he normally just wanders around the yard composing ballads—”

Someone shouted. After a delay of recognition, Alabaster and Kally locked eyes. That had been Ajax, his voice weakened from sobbing. Had there been other shouting? Alabaster had been so focused on Kally, he’d written off other sounds as the neighbors.

A loud split, like thunder had torn a crater in the earth, cracked in the air. The ground trembled once.

They shoved the sleeping bag away and scrambled to their feet. Neither was armed—they should have gone inside for weapons earlier. He had extra spell prepared on his pants but…

Alabaster stumbled when one of the runes on his pajama pants glowed brilliant green. He gritted his teeth.

Kally grabbed Alabaster’s arm to help pull him up. “What’s that?!” she asked, her eyes searching the yard for Pax.

“Someone is trying to break through my barrier,” he hissed.

A very powerful someone. He could feel the Mist twisting to the command of another.

“Are there any children of Hecate after you?” he demanded. This was almost as bad as Lamia.

Kally shook her head. “N-no. Uh—unless—I think Leo’s girlfriend could do magic? Was the original Calypso a child of Hecate?”

Alabaster’s eyes widened. “The sorceress? Why didn’t you say—” he cut off. No one but the Pax brothers would have realized how vital that was, and they might have been sparing Jack’s feelings about Calypso.

A dark figure skirted around the side of the house. Alabaster flinched. Something shouldn’t have gotten through his barrier without him detecting—

Alabaster relaxed when he recognized the single glint of Pax’s hazel eye and heard the racking hackle of Jack’s song. Alabaster tensed all over when he saw that Pax was alone. No—not alone—

Pax scrambled up the stairs. He trembled and choked on sobs when he skittered to a halt in front of them. He was pale. Mud smeared his knees, and there was a nasty bruise forming on his neck, like someone had tried to take a chunk out of it. He bent over and put his free hand on his knee. His other fingers were tightly clenched in a mess of short, dripping red hair.

A mess that was definitely talking.

“--okay, kiddo, it was just Nico, and we hate that—” the head said.

Pax gathered himself enough to say, “Jack’s dead.”

“I see that,” Alabaster said, unable to look away.

When Pax registered Alabaster’s and Kally’s looks of horror, he gave another sob—this one of relief. “Can all of you hear him too?”

Alabaster nodded.

He could see Kally do the same from the corner of his eye.

Some part of him was fascinated. The other part of him wondered if his fascination signified how much more therapy he needed. Had this been another situation, Alabaster might have chastised Pax for bringing home wartime trophies. Alabaster already thought it was gross when the weasels did it.

Pax let out a hysterical laugh, twisting the mess of hair. Alabaster’s stomach clenched. He’d had to dissect plenty of bodies for spells, but he didn’t often recognize them. Jack’s face was ghastly pale. His eyes were sunken and his lips looked parched and blue under the spittle and blood. There was a hole in his cheek, leaking more fluids. Despite all of that, his eyes were alert and his mouth wouldn’t stop moving. Now, he was humming the tune to, Don’t Stop Me Now.

Pax laugh-cried, “Oh, thank the gods! Not that I’m happy all of you are going crazy too, just that it isn’t just me.”

Kally reached a hesitant hand out towards Pax, but stopped. “Ajax, are you—”

“No!” he cried, “No, I’m not okay!” Alabaster guessed she was going to say, hurt, but knew stopping a Pax mid-rant was like stopping a train with a school crossing sign. “I’m holding a decapitated—”

“—very handsome—” Jack interjected.

“—very handsome, talking head of a surrogate father I’ve had to watch die twice! And I’ve probably been exposed to all kinds of diseases, like ebola—”

“—actually, it was pneumatic plague,” Jack corrected indignantly, “Keep your pandemics straight.”

“—shingles, and whatever he gave Annabeth! Oh, and Will’s blood.”

“Mono,” Jack said.[1]

“Annabeth is here--?” Kally started to ask, but put a hand to her mouth. “Is Will okay?”

“He was looking a little on the corpsy side after Jack finished his family bonding,” Pax used Jack’s head to gesticulate on family bonding. Someone needed to take Jack’s head from him… but Alabaster really didn’t want to touch it. “Then Nico went all shadows and poofballs to save him and Melinoe captured him to use him as a shadow bridge and now the others are coming for us,” he babbled in one breath.

“We need to wake up everyone, assuming that cracking noise didn’t wake them up,” Alabaster said. He could feel the shield around his property waning. “The barrier will only give us maybe—five more minutes at this rate. Ajax—”

Pax burst into a fit of giggles. He almost doubled over. Both Alabaster and Kally flinched.

“Get it?! Get it?! Jack’s the head of Orpheus Metal. The prophecy! Orpheus’ head won by heart’s loss. I’m at the loss! Why are the Fates so much more creative than me today!” Pax continued to giggle between sobs and gasps. “You win, Fates! You win this round!”

Many stories said Orpheus’ head sang after it was cut off, though Alabaster didn’t know why they would need a singing head. What they needed to do was get inside and ready for a fight. If Annabeth and Nico were here, he had a guess as to which demigod would be leading the charge. The thought of fighting Percy Jackson excited Alabaster, but not in his pajama pants.

Alabaster went to command them inside when Pax hugged himself, not seeming to care that Jack’s head bopped against his hip. He choked and coughed.

“Aw, kiddo, it’s okay—” Jack started.

Kally removed one of her socks and jammed it into Jack’s mouth. She shivered, examining Pax. After opening and closing her mouth once, she pulled Pax into a hug.

Normally, Alabaster might warn that she was falling for one of Pax’s ruses. But Pax could barely breathe. And Jack was definitely dead in Pax’s hand. A shudder of horror rumbled through Alabaster when he realized Death really couldn’t keep Jack away.

And part of him broke, knowing Pax really needed him right now.

Kally reached back, grabbed Alabaster’s sweater, and dragged him into the hug.

He counted out five seconds, trying not to think about how freaked out Pax was. Or Kally. Alabaster had seen plenty of severed heads. He guessed this was her first.

“We need to get inside,” Alabaster said. Later. They could help Pax later. And… do whatever you were supposed to do for decapitated heads to Jack. “Let’s get inside and get Axel.”

As Alabaster had hoped, the others were readying themselves. They must have heard the crack. Axel was decorated with a myriad of weapons strapped on with various holsters: hoplite swords, daggers, knives, and others, both celestial and human-made. He had donned his Nemean Lion pelt. With that, his bracers, and his old leather pteruges[2], Axel looked more like the honored lieutenant Alabaster had proudly looked up to.

The child of Eros had his bow ready, peering out the front window like a sniper. Euna had Backbiter drawn, standing beside him. Merry sat on the stairs, pale, jutting her jaw to one side.

The weasels practiced a war dance all around the living room.

Needing no instruction, Axel handed Alabaster his playing cards as he, Kally, Pax, and… Jack entered.

“What in Hades is going on?” Calex demanded from his lookout by the window. “We heard—Holy Hygieia! Pax, why do you have that mental bloke’s head?!”

Jack finally managed to dislodge and spit out Kally’s sock. “I believe the full term is ‘mentally handicapped’ for the political activists. Don’t want to upset Axel,” he teased.

“Oh gods, it talks,” Calex hissed, touching his temple with one hand.

“Jack’s dead,” Pax greeted his brother.

“Again,” Axel acknowledged as he handed Pax the Silver Tongued Snake helm, his bronze chest plate, some clothing, and Pax’s utility belt and attached daggers. His eyes glazed over Jack the same way Alabaster had seen Axel register other dead in the field of battle: a current logistic, grief best left until grief had time. Though Axel did puff up his cheeks and pop them.

Alabaster flicked his Mist cards through his fingers. Claymore’s was on top, but now wouldn’t be the time to awaken him. As much as he wanted Claymore’s guidance, another body cluttering the room wasn’t what they needed. He flipped to the next set of cards, summoning his bulletproof vest. He hesitated on the imperial gold sword. No… for this, he wanted his old weapons.

Axel handed Alabaster his Cloven Witch Boy helm, the goat skull enlaced with Stygian iron. The Triple A Chimera helped each other suit up like no time had passed since their last mission.

There was a card towards the bottom of Alabaster’s deck that he’d almost thrown away on multiple occasions. He withdrew it, summoned the contents, and handed a thin vial off to Pax. “This is the remnants of some knock out serum. You get one shot. Don’t waste it.”

Jack hummed the whole time and Merry and Calex looked like they might throw up.

“Pax Bae, sweetie, you and I need to have some real talk time about you bringing body parts and dead things home,” Merry whispered.

“They sent a diplomacy party—” Pax explained while Axel strapped down Pax’s bronze breastplate.

“Amicablicious!” Merry cheered. “So why—”

“—that Jack attacked. And now it looks like I played whack-a-mole with Will Solace’s face and poofed Nico Di Angelo into hipsters and Hot Topic.”

“Did you?” Calex asked, his eyes narrowing.

Axel and Kally shot Calex a look. Kally’s was of bewilderment. Axel’s was anger. His message was clear, don’t question my brother.

Pax’s jaw dropped and began to tremble again. “How could you ask that? You know I ship Solangelo.”

“Maybe we can still use some sweet talk. Pax, what exac—?” Merry started to ask.

“AJAX PAX!”

A rumble shook the house and something roared along the shutters. The window glass exploded inward.

Calex and Euna shouted and dove onto the floor.

Everyone crouched and ducked.

“Let’s talk and flee, shall we?” Pax shouted over the boom of wind as it knocked over lampshades, tore loose papers out of the bookshelf, and knocked Alabaster’s favorite teacup off the coffee table. It shattered on impact with the rug.

“What is that?!” Kally asked.

“If I had to guess? Jason expressing his feelings. He’s a very sensitive kind of guy!” Pax shouted back.

Something smashed into the front door. A piece of the wood fractured. Alabaster wanted to curse. Though weakened, his rune barrier hadn’t collapsed yet. No living thing—human or monster—should have been able—

The wooden frame cracked, and something silvery thundered into the living room.

Alabaster summoned one of his best Mist cards: his two pronged, Stygian iron staff. Whichever magic user they were facing must have been powerful to sneak in a—

A silver worktable.

With the wind dying down, Alabaster could swear there was a faint, “Felix! Come back! I wasn’t supposed to program you with door ramming abilities until next week!”

Maybe they would have shared a collective sigh of relief, had the sentient table not bound across the room. Before any of them could get in the way, the worktable slammed into Kally, knocking her flat.

The table lifted a leg above Kally’s head.

She yelped and twisted out of the way of a blow that would have crushed her skull. Instead, the table leg pinned her sweatshirt hoodie, preventing her from rolling away. Kally scrambled to squirm out of the article of clothing.

Alabaster slammed his staff into the leg, jolting her free.

“Hunnie!” Pax shouted.

The weasel scurried out from under the couch. Her approach became much more intimidating when Hunnie expanded to the size of the couch. She slammed into the worktable, rocketing the table back through the front door.

“Out the back!” Axel commanded.

“But—the van and Vinyl—” Calex started.

“Now!”

Alabaster had abandoned so many houses over the last year, all he could do was internally sigh at the thought of going back on the market. At least it was easier with Claymore around.

But, he wanted to take a stand and fight. He’d run from Lamia and the Romans for months. And now, he could possibly have the chance to fight Percy Jackson and Jason Grace and show the pawns of the Olympic mafia what they’d taken from him?

While he hesitated, Pax grabbed the hand he had on his helmet and Kally grabbed the one on his staff. They dragged him back through the backdoor they’d entered moments ago.

From a glance behind, Alabaster could see Euna dragging Calex and Merry in a similar way. Axel followed out last, assuring the group was together.

As they raced down the porch, the rune on Alabaster’s pant leg shattered. A jolt of pain and weakness spread from the break, darkening his senses momentarily. The rune barrier collapsed. The house was now exposed.

They couldn’t make a stealthy retreat, not with Jack mumbling the whole time and the clank of their armor.

The three weasels swarmed around their feet. Hunnie was back to her tiny size, having either won or given up on the fight against the work table. For the sake of defending Hecate’s craftsmanship, he hoped the former.

“Alabaster! Best retreat?” Axel demanded.

“The forest,” Alabaster snapped. Despite Lamia’s recent absence, Alabaster had gotten into the habit of planning escapes. Reflexively, he’d directed Pax and Kally towards the woods, taking the lead.

“Merry—I know it’s a lot—you gotta keep going!” Kally gasped over her shoulder.

“C—can’t—” the daughter of Dionysus panted. From their stories earlier, Merry had completely depleted herself of energy. A couple hours rest wouldn’t recharge the strongest of demigods after causing a Dionysus level dance off.

“I have you,” Calex said.

Alabaster glanced back. Calex had picked Merry up, but they were already so far behind. And carrying her would only slow the Brit down.

They needed something to cover their retreat, but Alabaster wasn’t sure his concealment spells could hide all seven of them—eight if you included Jack’s grumbling head.

Beyond them, Alabaster could see five figures approaching from the side of the house.

The barometric pressure dropped.

“STOP!” Pax shrieked.

For an instant, Alabaster thought Pax or Axel had used their Mayan magic. That’s how it always felt before they did.

Instead, a flash of light blinded Alabaster ahead.

Something popped.

For an instant, Alabaster couldn’t see or hear anything. The earth rumbled under his feet—something was shifting. He, Pax, and Kally fell on the grass.

When he managed to blink the floating spheres out of his vision, he could see something had shifted the earth ahead of them. There was now a deep trench, in a semicircle, around the back of the house. Like someone had collapsed a tunnel underneath.

They were trapped.

[1] Mel Beta Note: “I’m not sure what’s stronger right now: my sense of humor or my sense of morals. I’m so emotionally confused!” However, Mel had the disclaimer that Jack exposure may cause confusion. Like a Psyduck.

[2] This is the proper name for those fancy leather skirts the Romans wore. “Skirts” just didn’t fit the right mood of the scene, though I assure you Pax was thinking of them as skirts.

#The Attrition of Peace #Traitors of Olympus #Heroes of Olympus #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #fanfiction #Alabaster #Pax #Kally #Calex #Euna #Welcoming the Head of Orpheus Metal!#Weasels #Jason #Correction: pissed off Jason #A kickass silver work table

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systemfailuresunshine · 7 years

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Right As Rain - Elsa Chapter 16

Author: @systemfailuresunshine

Summary: Year-round fluff for a soldier who just needs a hug, starting at Christmas! The aftermath...

Word Count: 1669

Warning(s): I want to say none but I’m gonna put swearing just in case.

A/N: 1176 hits on AO3! You guys! I’m blown away by your support every time I upload a chapter and it means so much that you guys are reading it :) Hope everyone is having a good (albeit hot here) day x

You and Steve took turns watching over Bucky while he was in the hospital wing. The others offered but it wasn't the same. Steve came in one day to find you sitting on the chair next to Bucky's bed, your head resting on your arm and your hand on Bucky's. Steve sighed softly and shook his head before gently shaking your shoulder. You stirred slightly and he crouched down so that he was at eye level with you.

"Hey," he nudged you again.

Your eyes flew open and you looked frantically at Bucky before your gaze fell back on Steve.

"No change," he said sadly. "Just thought I'd give you a break."

You made to protest but he raised an eyebrow.

"We've been at this for days. You know I'll let you know if there's any change."

"I just don't like leaving him."

"It's not like he'll be alone," Steve chuckled as he swapped places with you on the chair and you stretched your arms above your head, wincing as your joints popped.

You swept your eyes over Bucky again and yawned.

"You know I'm right," Steve smirked.

You elbowed him in the shoulder and the corners of his mouth quirked.

"Now go," he pushed.

You were still hesitant but reluctantly made your way out of the room.

You bumped into Tony as you walked through the door. He jumped slightly but smiled when he saw you.

"Oh, (Y/N), I nearly forgot! Could you grab me some food from the kitchen? I'm probably gonna be working all night."

"Of course, Iron Man," you said as you stalked off.

Tony grabbed your hand and turned you round.

"Woah, check your snark, (Y/N). What's wrong?"

You didn't reply but your gaze drifted to the slightly ajar door of the hospital wing. He followed your eyes.

"Barnes?" He asked, his tone softening.

You brought your gaze back to look at him, tears glistening just below the surface. He rubbed his hands up and down your arms and you collapsed into him. You both sunk to the floor and he cradled you to him, slowly stroking your hair.

"Hey," he soothed. "It's gonna be okay. Elsa's made of steel."

He paused.

"Well, part vibranium, but still," he chuckled and looked down at you, breathing raggedly but trying to smile.

"He's going to be fine," he smiled down at you. "I promise. You got Banner and Helen Cho working night and day to get him back to his usual annoying self."

You sniffed and elbowed him.

"Okay, I deserved that," he smirked, a little dimmer than normal. "But he will be. He'll be right as rain."

"I just..." you sniffed again and dragged in a breath. "I can't lose him."

"You won't," he replied, wiping his thumb under your right eye to catch the stray tears.

You made to stand up and swayed slightly, leaning against the wall to stop yourself from falling. You held your hand out and he took it, pulling himself up from the floor.

"Not as young as I used to be," he groaned, which made you giggle softly.

"There they are," he smiled at you. "Now, didn't I hear Rogers telling you to go to bed?"

You yawned despite yourself and smiled lazily. He laughed.

"I'll see you in the morning."

You waved and, begrudgingly, headed to your room, taking one last look at the open door of the hospital wing as you rounded the corner.

The next morning, you found Steve in a similar position to the one he'd found you in the day before.

"Morning, sleepyhead," you sang at him.

He groaned and shielded his eyes from the light coming in from the open door.

"Bed, Rogers," you ordered, smiling as he pouted slightly, before standing up.

"Have fun," he waved as he left the room, hesitating like always.

You shooed him away and took his place beside the bed. To pass the time, you started singing. You couldn't hear anyone outside and your anxiety was getting the better of you.

'Flower, gleam and glow,

Let your power shine,

Make the clock reverse,

Bring back what once was mine'

You sighed, as you took in Bucky's unconscious figure on the bed. Wiping away a tear that had managed to escape from one of your eyes, you finished the song.

'What once was mine...'

"Are you singing Tangled?" came a groggy voice from beside you.

You practically bounced on him.

"Bucky!"

He coughed violently and you reached to get a glass of water off of the table. You were thankful to whoever put it there. It was probably Bruce.

"Sorry," you said quietly.

He rolled over to his side and took the glass from you, sipping the water carefully. Passing it back to you, he laid on his back again, his face resting into one of peace.

"There's nothing for you to be sorry about," his tone was soft and his eyes were closed.

You couldn't help but think how lucky you were, and how thankful you were that he'd survived. It swelled inside of you and seemed to burst out so violently that you couldn't help the next words that came out of your mouth.

"I love you," you said, sincerely.

Bucky's eyes fluttered open and he looked at you out of the corner of his eye. You immediately blushed and looked away as he adjusted his head on the pillow.

"What was that?" he grinned, tongue poking out from between his teeth.

You poked his arm with your finger and rolled your eyes.

"You heard me."

A smile played on your lips as you stood up and pressed your lips to his forehead.

"I love you, you idiot," you conceded.

He laughed hard, which turned out to be a bad idea.

Bucky coughed again and tried to sit up. You immediately started fussing over him and telling him to stay lying down so that didn’t injure himself further.

“Doll, I’m fine.”

“Yes, that’s why you’re currently lying in a hospital bed. Because you’re fine.”

The sarcasm dripped off your words. He side-eyed you as Helen Cho came through the door.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” she smiled at him. “You’re lucky! What happened to you would have killed an ordinary man.”

“Well, I did survive a fall off a train, and the only injury I got from that was one less arm. Plus I’m no ordinary man.”

He winked at Helen. Beside him, you huffed and folded your arms. Helen coughed awkwardly and shuffled on her feet, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“Yes, well,” she stammered. “I’m just going to run a few more tests and you’ll have to spend another night in here, so we can check that everything is healing as it’s supposed to be. I’ll be back soon.”

She smiled at Bucky and then nodded to you as she left. You narrowed your eyes at Bucky. He turned to face you and smirked. You glared at him.

“Aww, doll, I’m flattered.”

“I hate you.”

“That’s not what I heard a minute ago.”

“A minute ago, you weren’t flirting with someone else.”

“And you’re jealous.”

It was more of a statement than a question.

“I am not jealous,” you mumbled.

“I love you,” he smiled, reaching out with his arm to take your hand.

You begrudgingly obliged.

“Yeah, yeah,” you replied, your eyes betraying you as you tried and failed to be mad at him. “Just keep the flirting for me next time.”

He laughed, which led to yet another coughing fit. Your face softened as you leant forward and pressed your forehead to his shoulder.

“You dork,” you shook your head.

You heard footsteps moving quickly down the corridor and turned towards the noise. Steve practically burst through the door. Bucky rolled his eyes at him, and he tried to compose himself.

"Morning, Stevie," he chuckled.

Steve gave him a lopsided grin as he knelt on the floor.

"You're back!"

"I am," Bucky's face mirrored Steve's, a hint of guilt in his eyes. "Come on, then," he pressed. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing," Steve lied.

Both you and Bucky gave him a sidelong glance. Steve swallowed.

"You were ambushed," Steve began.

You bristled slightly. You remembered all too well the sound of Bucky's strangled gasp as he was taken down.

"In the fight, the Time Stone got smashed. The agents all got sent back to their own timestream."

Steve rubbed the back of his neck.

"I still don't know how that worked, but the important thing is there's nothing to worry about now."

Bucky scoffed.

"You're superheroes," you interjected. "There's always something to worry about."

"Nothing about them you need to worry about," Steve corrected. "The only thing you need to worry about now is resting."

Bucky cuffed Steve's shoulder with his hand.

"You're a punk," he smirked.

"Jerk," Steve countered, a look of nostalgia in his eyes.

He turned to leave.

"Get some rest, pal," he smiled over his shoulder. "I'll be back soon."

"I'm never gonna get rid of him, am I?" Bucky laughed quietly.

"You're not getting rid of either of us," you giggled, brushing some hair away from his face.

He turned his head to kiss your palm.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

A/N: You guys didn’t think I’d leave you hanging like that, did you? Of course, he’s okay! And finally got to hear those words from you.

Taglist: @buckyywiththegoodhair, @buckys-shield, @justkeeplaughing-nevergiveup, @itscooltobehappy, @the-renaissance

If anyone else wants to be added (or removed), just message me on here (@systemfailuresunshine) or on @story-prompt-lyrics!

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #avengers #avengers imagine #my writing #elsa

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jdw-juseyo · 8 years

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i am new to ifnt and rly dont wanna make anyone mad but i don't see the big deal abt woohyun. yes he is hot and can sing but why does every1 love him so much? i dont mean it in a bad way jst that i dont see how he is more popular than others. also i dont see how his voice is so different to other kpop singers? but then again i am new so maybe i dont kno wht i am talking about. pls help me to understand more?

You caught me at the absolute pinnacle of my Woohyun feels, which happens every year around his birthday. And therefore (with a little help from my friends) I have constructed this little list of reasons why Woohyun is absolutely deserving of the amount of love he receives from Inspirits and why it’s kinda hard not to love him, even if he isn’t your favourite member…

1. WOOHYUN’S LIVE VOCALS

Woohyun is known for having what many call a ‘power-house’ vocal. You can always rely on him to hit those incredible high notes in INFINITE songs. He’s known for being able to bellow out his lines; his voice is strong, loud and instantly recognisable. But he also pours a lot of emotion into his vocals, every note dripping with it. His solo album Write.. and his subsequent appearances on Immortal Songs 2 showcased another side to his vocals too; a softer side, gentle, quieter but without lacking that trademark emotion in his voice. It really proved he’s a versatile vocalist, and not just there to yell at the top of his lungs (but it’s still incredible when he does). Here is Woohyun performing on Immortal Songs 2. This appearance earned him the highest score for an idol on the show at that point.

youtube

He is (in my opinion) one of the best live singers in kpop at the moment. I can’t think of many people who could hold a candle to him, really. Yet he is still improving and working on his voice; he still admits he has far to go.

2. WOOHYUN’S FAN SERVICE / HIS LOVE FOR FANS

Woohyun is known for being the ‘fan idiot’ in INFINITE. He’s got a different heart for every occasion and is usually credited with popularising the ‘finger heart’ that everyone uses nowadays. In 2012 he came 3rd in Weekly Idol’s Fan Service poll (as voted by idols), and the video shows some good examples of him showering Inspirits with love. He consistently refers to fans as his ‘girlfriends’, to the point his twitter bio even says it (팬=여친fan=girlfriend). But his love for Inspirits runs deeper than superficial hearts and displays of cuteness. INFINITE and Inspirits have had a close relationship since debut, and it has continued on to this day. During One Great Step, INFINITE’s first world tour in 2013/14, Woohyun personally went out to buy roses and small rings to present to fans at their shows, spending his own money. He wrote and composed the song ‘함께 (Together)’ during OGS, and dedicated it to Inspirits, saying it was about fans (see the lyrics here).

youtube

At Dream Concert in 2016, Woohyun performed as a solo artist for the first time, and even other fandoms began to feel jealous at the amount of attention he gave to Inspirits. [Even more reactions here] He sang just for them, never taking his eyes off their section of the crowd and taking out his earpiece to listen to them singing along. Okay, so later all of INFINITE roasted Inspirits for not being able to sing well, but at least Woohyun then tried to explain how to sing properly.

youtube

It should be noted too, that after this performance, Woohyun and INFINITE gained a lot of new fans who were impressed by him.

3. WOOHYUN’S PASSION FOR SINGING / MAKING MUSIC

As I mentioned above, Woohyun wrote and composed ‘함께 (Together)’ for INFINITE while they were taking part in their first world tour. During their movie, Grow, which showed the behind the scenes of OGS, you see Woohyun jumping up in the middle of eating to go and compose.

youtube

He was excited about this song and wanted to share it with the rest of INFINITE once he was finished, asking them to contribute to the lyric writing too. Then his solo album Write.. was released in 2016 with 3/6 tracks having Woohyun’s direct involvement: ‘향기 (Scent/Nostalgia)’ which was entirely written and composed by Woohyun, and ‘Gravity’ and ‘Everyday’ which Woohyun co-wrote and composed [source]. You could tell he had worked extremely hard on these songs, and could tell how proud he was of them when he spoke about them in interviews. Whenever Woohyun takes the stage, you know that the energy and enthusiasm he exudes isn’t just an act… He truly loves singing, is passionate about performing and wants to share his talent with the world. For example, look how stupidly in his element he is performing Everyday in Singapore during INFINITE’s second world tour (© Honey Tree ) :

youtube

4. AND EVERYTHING ELSE:

Those were just three main points focused on Woohyun as a singer, performer and idol. There are so many other sides to Woohyun too, and so many reasons to love him.

He loves cooking, and his instagram is full of videos of him making food

His relationships with the other INFINITE members are really sweet. Just one recent example would be: even when everyone was teasing Sungjong and being kinda mean (including Woohyun), he did then reassure him that there would be plenty of INFINITE schedules soon and that he needn’t worry. He’s also super affectionate with the others, and you’ll often find him touching them or correcting their hair/touching their face/leaning on them.

Actor Woohyun!!! He’s been in multiple dramas, but my personal favourite is Hi School Love On, where he played Shin Woohyun… Please watch it if you haven’t already, it’s so good (and it’s all available on KBSWorld’s youtube channel with subs, here)!

His friendships with other 91 line celebrities, especially SHINee’s Key with whom he debuted as the special sub-unit ToHeart in 2014.

Like you mentioned, he is ridiculously good-looking and is known for not having had any surgery - that nose and that jawline are aaaaallll natural, ladies ~~

He loves football and plays for FC Men (FC 멘), an all-star team affiliated with the Suwon Bluewings alongside other celebrities.

My closing statement is this: usually when you stan a group you’ll have a favourite member, one you look at more than the others, one you might pay a little more attention to during MVs or performances or shows. But then often (and in most cases when it comes to my Inspirit friends), you end up loving them all. Your bias might even change (maybe even many times). You’ll find it hard to stick solely to one member, especially when the rest of the group are so damn lovable. Soon enough, you realise you’re OT7 biased and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Do yourself a solid and give Woohyun a chance. I’m sure you’ll see why everyone likes him so much in no time.

#ask ~~#woohyun #infinite #Anonymous #lol i got so intense #mine #about ifnt #about:wh

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copperbadge · 8 years

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lightwit replied to your post “So what music do you like to listen to if you don't like most music?”

Do your parents/family listen to music? I'm asking because my music taste is similar to yours and I come from a family where no one really listens to music (from grandparents down to cousins). So I always thought it's an inherited thing (either through genes or by exposure) that I don't listen to music much. Just interested to know if it's similar for you.

My father played the piano and my mother is very musical -- she plays a couple of instruments (well, not really anymore, but she knows how, is my point) and sings. They had me in music education from a very young age and I think it was probably pretty upsetting to them that I just couldn’t give two shits about any classical composer except Tchaikovsky, and him really only at first because I had a cassette tape that was the story of his life interspersed with his music and I think he had a really interesting life.

I think it was probably a relief to all involved when I quit the piano. I’m actually truly surprised Mum gave me any kind of musical instrument this past Christmas, even a learner ukulele, because I remember how frustrated she was with my total disinterest in music as a child and her HORROR at my musical tastes as a teen (ran strongly to Alternative, which is like Pop Designed To Annoy Your Parents).

tagathax replied to your post “So what music do you like to listen to if you don't like most music?”

Can I ask you what you mean by that music's very mathy? I'm terrible with maths but I love music and I've always thought they're very opposite of each other. Although I remember reading somewhere that Bach's music has some math elements in it but I don't see it myself (or maybe I just don't understand it as maths).

All of music is basically counting and number values. Like, if you’ve ever listened to someone try to explain musical theory it’s literally all “music is twelve notes in seven tones in eight octaves and everything’s a ratio”.

I can’t actually explain this to you because I don’t understand math or musical theory, but yeah, music and math are heavily interrelated. (I googled quickly and there appears to be a great overview from the American Mathematical Society here.)

What this means is not that if you don’t understand math you can’t enjoy music. What it means is that people who make and teach music are predominantly extremely comfortable with mathematical theory and tend to apply it in their work -- and something that is mathematically beautiful is not always audibly so to someone who doesn’t understand the underlying theory.

I believe there are also studies that link the musical and mathematical centers in the brain but I’m not interested enough in this topic to google. :D

hystericblue replied to your post “So what music do you like to listen to if you don't like most music?”

"music's very mathy" ??? *all the question marks* so what I'm getting is, you like musicals and probably early Disney stuff where they sang parts of the story.

Not really. Early musicals in particular were zero about using the music to tell a story and 100% about showing off the vocal ability of the performers. This also influenced early film, including animated but also live-action musicals. Look at any given musical made before about 1970 and you’ll see that most of the songs aren’t about forwarding the action but are about either describing a situation or expressing a feeling. Most songs in a musical don’t tell a story so much as set a scene. Andrew Lloyd Weber, you don’t have to like him, but he changed the way stage musicals exist -- he brought the pop sensibility into the musical theatre world and made the narrative the focus. Which on the one hand is why you get ALW movies where the leads aren’t operatic diva quality, but I can’t emphasize this enough, I don’t give a fuck and can’t tell anyway.

I love Les Mis (not an ALW joint, I know, but a part of the pop-musical movement) and I love the narrative quality of its music and I went to see the movie and thoroughly enjoyed it and couldn’t tell for a second who could and couldn’t sing. I listen to people say the singing ruined it for them and like...I didn’t notice. And it’s okay that people did, and I understand how that might have been an issue for them. But what I’m saying is that vocal quality, beyond a basic competence, is a non-factor for me, and it’s not the biggest factor in pop-musical tradition. The story rules. Hence not caring much for early musicals. (There are some old showtune songs I like. Summertime, Blow Gabriel Blow, a few others, but those are songs plucked from musicals where I may not enjoy any other song in the show.)

There are a couple of Disney films whose music I really enjoy, but they tend to be later, from my childhood, which has a nostalgia element -- but also my childhood was a really great time for Disney movies, and a lot of the songs were written by pop stars. And pop stars DO know how to tell a story in a song and are aware that most people listening give zero shits about the vocal quality of the performer beyond “can they hit the right note at the right spot”. Elton John is a great vocalist, but he’s also aware his voice is not why people love his music.

Uh, that got long, sorry. But yeah, I often have to defend my near-total disinterest in musicals, as a former theatre kid, because I have no ear for good singing and thus don’t care about vocalists.

secondalto replied to your post “What are the podcasts you like listening to then? (in reference to the...”

Have you ever given Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me a try?

I’ve actually been to see it live! I never remember when it’s on, though, and sometimes their guests are real duds or they’re not that interesting but Peter is SUPER NERDY about whatever it is they do so they end up talking forever. (Nobody else cares as deeply about Portlandia as you do, Peter.) So it’s something I enjoy when I happen to catch it but it’s not on my feed or anything.

#lightwit #hystericblue #secondalto #tagathax

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fmdtaeyongarchive · 5 years

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↬ that half-full moon looks just like me right now.

date: spring 2016 / summer 2019.

location: seoul, south korea.

word count: 2,063 words, not including lyrics.

summary: n/a.

notes: creative claims verification. trigger warnings for suicidal ideation and depression because, well, most of this is early/mid-2016 ash, who was going through some shit mentally. he was actually going to a therapist back then though so... 2019 ash could learn a thing or two from him.

spring 2016.

the melody was one that first came to him in the midst of 2016 on a night walk. he didn’t go on those often, especially not in 2016, when every trip outside of the safety of his bed felt like the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. his therapist had said he should appreciate the little steps he could take in getting past that. he didn’t have to phone up any of his friends (god, he didn’t even know how many of those he had left after leaving everyone on read for weeks at a time) to hang out if his fingers refused to press the call button on his phone, but leaving his room was still progress. being able to walk down the street without cowering in fear that a reporter or sasaeng might be around any corner was still progress.

it was pathetic that leaving knight’s dorm by his own choice was a feat now and it was humiliating that his manager had seemed hesitant to let him leave. not because he thought ash was going to go out and meet a girl and get the group in even more trouble than he already had, but because the look in his manager’s eyes said he wasn’t confident ash would return if he let him go out on his own. i’ll try my best to resist the urge to walk in front of a car, ash had thought bitterly as he left, but there hadn’t been much humor in it. with the way his brain chemicals were working lately, he couldn’t promise anything. the intrusive thoughts weren’t even urges, really. they’d be better described as a flip switched into autopilot that ash only fought against the push of out of guilt. there wasn’t much of a rational explanation for the guilt. it’d be less for his manager to worry about if ash were to conveniently stop being around to cause problems, and, even better, ash wouldn’t have any problems to deal with himself then. maybe it was only his remaining selfishness masquerading as guilt.

he’d told himself not to think about that as he’d left the property of the building knight’s dorm was in, hands in the front pocket of his dark hoodie and eyes glued to the ground. healthy coping mechanisms hadn’t become second nature to him yet (he had to question if that would ever happen) no matter how many therapy sessions he’d gone to after his manager had forced him to seek help out of concern for his well-being, so compartmentalizing would have to do for now.

ash didn’t have a destination in mind as he set out, following wherever his feet led him instead. he strayed further and further from the streets other people were walking, uncomfortable with the wave of anxiety that would wash over him at even the thought of making eye contact with someone who might recognize him, until he ended on a road littered with a variety of shops, some already closed while others had their lights on in the darkness of the night. he craned his neck to glance at the sky, but there was never anything to see up there past the light pollution and smog. the blurry tops of the street lights were the closest thing to stars in sight.

it wasn’t so late that only the twenty-four hour shops remained, but the moon was rising slowly in the blue-black sky and by the time ash turned on his heel to return home, he knew even more shops would have gone dark for the night, but he needed to do something, go somewhere, so that he wouldn’t feel even worse about himself when he returned to knight’s dorm and spent all night in bed staring at the ceiling of his room.

maybe ash would see if there were any good restaurants on the street. he wasn’t hungry, but picking at food in front of him without ingesting any of it had become as regular as the three meals a day he was supposed to have now. it would still feel like some form of normalcy, which was better than the constant free fall of insecurity and self-loathing he lived in lately. if he spent enough time somewhere, he could at least feel like he’d accomplished something.

it wasn’t until he came across a shop that was mostly bare save for words spelling out its status as a music shop that ash came to a halt and considered the door. there was one window in front of the store to see inside and the visible setup wasn’t anything very fancy. it looked empty, though, from what he could see and it didn’t seem to be the kind of place that would experience a surge in customer base before they closed down for the night, so he gave himself silent permission to reach for the handle and step inside the shop. his booted feet lightly thumped onto the old floor of the shop and ash was hit with a wave of half-nostalgia. he’d been frequenting music shops for as long as he could remember and simply seeing the displays of instruments against the walls and the aisles of sheet music brought back memories from his childhood, but whenever he visited the sorts of places he’d known so intimately back in san francisco now that he was in seoul, there was always something that felt off. it made his memories fall into an uncanny valley of remembrance.

ash pushed that away, bowing his head in polite greeting in the direction of the worker behind the checkout counter without making eye contact.

“welcome! let me know if you need anything,” the woman’s voice rang out with a confidence that was overwhelming to ash even in its understatedness. a thank you formed on his tongue as his eyes scanned the shop and fell onto an upright piano shoved away in the corner. it was clearly not on display for sale from its worn state and odd positioning.

“am i allowed to play that?” ash asked before he could stop himself. “uh, i mean, can i try it out?” he rephrased in an attempt to not make it sound like he’d come in the store just to play their piano. the woman gave her permission with a visible hesitance and ash bowed his head once more in thanks, still insisting on only making eye contact with the piano instead of her.

as soon as he sat down, the melody that had been forming in the back of his head the entire walk began to wriggle its way into his fingertips. music had been come and go lately, but when it came, it came with the comfort of familiarity that had become rare. something about the dark night around him, the empty streets, the starless sky, it’d all built into a whirlpool inside his chest that he needed to get out in some way. ash pressed experimentally at the keys to test out their unique personality and once he’d familiarized himself, he began to play. there was some self-consciousness to it, as he was starkly aware of his company. normally, he would have no problem playing for someone, but his self-critical state of mind made him far too focused on the oddness of entering a music shop just to use their piano to compose.

after some time of playing without any comments being made in his direction, ash fished his phone out of his pocket and recorded the song he’d been fine-tuning, softly singing parts of lyrics that had come to mind on the walk and as he worked out how the notes would flow together.

“why do i feel so empty for no reason at all?” he sang in hushed tones, mindful of keeping his voice low enough not to travel over to the register and disrupt the worker. even in quiet tones interlaced with its fair share of unsure mumbling over undecided lyrics, the song mourned of what was missing. when lyrics came to him for the past few weeks, they’d all been of numbness or heartbreak, but that wasn’t strange when heartbreak was so fresh for him and numbness had installed itself firmly in the middle of his chest to get him through. he couldn’t write of love when it’d left him or joy when he’d forgotten how it felt.

when he became aware of the night again, he wasn’t sure how much time had passed around him. he hadn’t checked the time when he’d arrived, but once his fingers stilled on the piano keyboard, it was late enough that the shop should be closing. he was surprised it hadn’t already. he stopped the most recent recording and stood from the bench, looking in the worker’s direction apologetically. he turned to see her eyes were already on him and he grew embarrassed, head dipping once again.

“thank you,” he managed to get out, ready to rush out and leave before realizing he should at least buy something to make up for all of the time he’d wasted at the piano. looking around him frantically, he grabbed the first thing he could find that he could rationally used — two packages of drum sticks totaling just over seventy thousand won.

note to self: don’t use a public music store as your personal composition studio ever again, ash admonished himself.

summer 2019.

it was another night of settling in to work on his album. he’d been at a loss of what to work on next, so he’d hunted down a collection of flash drives from years ago to search through in hopes of finding something that could work with the new album. he’d avoided the ones he’d found to be from 2016, but when he’d exhausted the more recent drives, he resigned himself to rifling through the 2016 files. he didn’t like to revisit his songs from that time too much now. they reminded him too much of how alone he’d felt and how much he’d wanted to give up. it was still tough, but nothing would ever compare to the hell he’d sunk to back then. hearing anything from that time always felt like toying with a cursed object, like it would put him in danger of falling right back into that level of despair if he wasn’t careful enough.

the song was several files deep into the drive, but when ash opened it, memories of writing it came back to him. he remembered the night at the music shop and how he’d gone home and spent all night reworking the lyrics afterwards. it had stood the test of time surprisingly well and the emotions he’d poured into it were a good fit for the second half of his new album. other than an official recording, all it needed was improved production. three years prior, ash hadn’t known what he was doing as much in that department as he did now.

once the instrumental was polished and ash had laid down new vocals in the studio along with the rap verse he’d reached out to jaewon for, ash set to work on arranging it. instead of playing it off as a straight ballad like he’d had in mind originally, ash wanted to create an atmosphere that would emphasize the feeling. the night he’d first written it was fuzzy in his memory, as a lot of 2016 was, but he wanted to recreate what he could remember and embellish it with his contemporary understanding of it. he wanted it to sound like background music for a silent night being driven through the city and the gentle distant fade-in piano introduction was his first move to make that a reality.

it turned out being heavier jazz-r&b in production than ash thought he’d envisioned when writing it that night, and he implemented percussion far more intensely than the initial bare-bones production had done. the use of percussion was a point he was praised on when he first showed off the piece, a fact that gave ash a swell of pride in his own musical growth over the years. even as he celebrated his own progress, though, he wished he could say he’d grown as much emotionally since the song’s first creation as he had musically. in a way he’d tried not to read too much into, it still hit a little too close to home.

#fmdverification #suicidal ideation tw #depression tw #&& queued

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