#is she actually southern or are my ears deceiving me

[mothercetrion]

I feel like no one is talking about Johnny’s ex-wife’s southern accent. love it. where is she from

[shinsorokiri]

UA Idol | Chapter Eleven

Hitoshi Shinsou x Reader

Word Count: 4,209

Warnings: Language, big nerves

A/N: IT’S THE FIRST DAMN CHALLENGE! There are two more and I low key may have just introduced all the other supporting characters in the story so 👀 I hope you enjoy this one. It took a while to write because of the length and also. the fact that it’s welcome week at my college and I work at a bookstore (RIP). I’ve been working so much, and not to mention the homework I’m getting for classes (DOUBLE RIP). But yeah, I hope this chapter is to your liking, and I will make a song list for everyone under the chapter! I do recommend listening to the version of Halsey’s Graveyard stripped because that was a game changer for that song for me. I listen to that one more than the original HAHA. Anyways, enjoy!

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Sitting through the pop singers did not calm your nerves in the slightest. You already knew Mina and Denki were really good, but you soon found out that they weren’t the only ones. Especially when you heard Kirishima. He took Denki’s advice, and decided to sing Golden by Harry Styles. And to say you were impressed with the only acoustic version of one of Harry’s most hype songs was an understatement. And his voice was crazy good, and contrary to what he’d said previously you bet he could join Katsuki in singing rock songs. You’d have to tell him that later. “You know, this is only making me feel worse,” you say to Shinsou. All of the pop singers had finished their genre challenge performances and were waiting backstage to come out in lines and be told if they made it to the next part of Hell Week. The judges were currently speaking in hushed voices and choosing who would go through, and who would not go through. “You and me both. But you have absolutely nothing to worry about. You’re still better than everyone else who’s gone up there so far,” Shinsou whispers the last part to you, and you can’t help but smile. “Same to you, loser. Now, what did you think of everyone?”

��Denki and Mina killed it, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“Now as for Kirishima, I was pleasantly surprised. I knew he was already a loud guy, so hearing him go from straight belting at times to a small little falsetto was very interesting and very nice to the ear.”

“Yeah, not to mention his range is amazing.”

“Right? It was insane. Oh, and another person who stood out was the guy with the silver hair who kind of sounded like Kirishima. He was very similar to him, and he even sang Adore You.”

“Yeah, I noticed that too. It’s kind of funny, they were like almost the exact same person. You know who caught my eye?”

“Who?”

“That blonde girl. You can tell she’s a little… wild. Especially with her song pick, I never expected anyone in a million years to ever sing a Chainsmokers song, especially Don’t Let Me Down, with only a piano backing them.”

“Yeah, that caught me off guard, gonna be honest. She did have a lot of energy and her voice was really good though. Fits that genre of singers, so I bet she’ll get through. She can also move, which is always a perk for performers. But, do you know what I just can’t get over?”

“The fact that we had to leave our cats with cat sitters?”

“Well, yes, thank you so much for reminding me of that, but also how absolutely wholesome the kid with the green hair was. Not gonna lie, it kind of made me want to die. I mean, he really came in here and sang Imagine. Of all songs, Imagine by John Lennon. That is so ballsy and when Aizawa commented on how ballsy it was this fucker answers with, ‘I didn’t choose it because it was popular, I chose it because I believe that someday we can achieve that level of peace.’ What the fuck.” You laugh at his disbelief before nodding your head. “I totally agree. That was low-key hilarious though, Aizawa just sighed and Toshinori almost squealed because he loved that answer. It was like he was in a pageant and answering the world peace question. Wait, hold on, speaking of ballsy, what about the blonde guy who looks like he could be a part of a boyband singing Africa by Toto.”

“I know! He pulled a meme, I literally had to reach over and grab your arm to keep from fucking screaming. I mean, I know pretty much everyone else did, but I need to keep up my little mysterious façade I’ve got going on here.”

“I mean, you just don’t show emotions like that, but yeah. You’re just too mysterious.”

“Shut up. I am mysterious. Almost as mysterious as that girl with the short hair and long bangs who looks like a literal cinnamon roll and then came in belting I Will Always Love You.”

“You could only dream of being that mysterious sir,” you tease him, and he rolls his eyes, but his smile deceives him. He went to fire something back, only to be told by all the producers that everyone had to quiet down again because the judges had made their decisions. You and Shinsou both nervously watched as they turned away about half of the pop singers that were there, and you two nearly broke each other’s hands when Denki and Mina showed up on the stage. “Oh, they are definitely getting through, look at who they’re with,” Shinsou whispers in your ear, and you look at the rest of the line-up. Kirishima and all the other acts you and Shinsou had just discussed were all in a line onstage. Sure enough, they all made it through to the next round.

“Knew that would happen,” Shinsou says and you nod. “So, who’s up next?”

“Country. But there’s only a few of them,” Shinsou says, and you lean back in your chair. “I wonder how many of these guys will make me feel incompetent,” you say, and Shinsou snorts. “None of them should, doesn’t matter how talented someone else is, it doesn’t lessen yours in the slightest.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet,” you say, grinning while poking his arm. He smiles at you and shrugs. “I try, kitten.” You both see Mina, Denki, and Kirishima walking back to their seats in the pop genre section and give them a thumbs up. They all look actually ecstatic and return the positive hand gestures. “How much do you wanna bet Denki and Mina will wanna go out for celebratory drinks after this?” you ask Shinsou and he groans. “Shit, you’re right.”

“How about we feign sickness and have them go and we just, you know, stay at the hotel,” you suggest, and he gives you a side eye. “Yeah, like they’ll fall for that.” He has a fair point, and you sigh. Maybe if you get through the first round you’ll be up for it. As long as Shinsou will be there, it won’t be too bad.

The country genre starts up and everyone in the category jumps right into the southern swing. There aren’t nearly as many as the pop category, which is odd. There truly aren’t a lot of country singers in this competition, now that you think about it. To be fair, when live shows come around, it’s very intense and since the majority of the singers in the competition are pop singers, country can definitely get lost in the mix. Oh well, the singers who are going are actually really good, so maybe this year it’ll change up a bit. One of the country singers who really caught your eye was this little short girl with long dark green dyed hair. She had this cute little bow pulling it back and had this little southern charm, but her style was more of a mix of country and singer-songwriter you noticed. Not all of the words she sang had that good ‘ol country twang to them, but it was still there. It could have been the song choice of making Before He Cheats into an acoustic (she played her own black acoustic guitar decorated with cute frog stickers), but you’d have to see more of her to be completely sure. She was really really good, though. And sure enough, she made it to the next round.

Up next is rock. You look over to see Bakugou with a stone cold unmoving resting bitch face. From what you know from the guy, this was normal. “If his singing is anything like his yelling, he’s one hell of a rockstar,” Shinsou says to you, which causes you to laugh. He was right, his screaming was pretty loud, gritty, and impressive, so that statement was true. And his singing was similar to that style as well. Even though he did a low-key song by a rock band, Good Riddance by Green Day, he still managed to get that rocker vibe with it. It was probably because of how angrily he played his guitar. That poor guitar. He wasn’t the only rock singer that really stood out though. “I’m not trying to judge because I know I look like a pretty miserable and intimidating guy too, but did you see that guy with the long gray hair and no will to live?” “Yeah, I saw him. Heard him, too. Didn’t realize anyone could make Disenchanted by MCR even sadder than it was already,” you say. It’s true, that guy had a really good voice, sort of similar to Gerard Way’s actually, but christ he made the song sadder than the original somehow. Then of course there was this mysterious guy who was wearing a black face mask to compliment the all black outfit paired with the multiple layered red choker and long black cardigan he was wearing. Somehow, he still sounded great and barely muffled, but it was such a weird visual. It was fitting for the genre though, and you can respect the brand. A cover of Creep sung by someone who covered half of his face was spot on for the song’s meaning. And his purple electric guitar with the symbol of a raven on it was pretty dope, you have to admit.

“Look, it’s Denki’s crush,” Shinsou says as the girl with the purple hair walked on the stage. Denki’s going for a rocker, huh? Fitting, he needs someone intense to balance out his stupid. And intense this girl was, she sang a killer rendition of That’s What You Get, and when you looked over at Denki you could have sworn his pupils turned into little hearts. Unsurprisingly, all of them got in, and Kirishima almost started crying when he realized Bakugo was through as well.

The producers then decided to combine the r&b and hip-hop genres at the last minute, making it the second largest category. But you didn’t mind sitting there and listening because, again, there were some really talented people in the categories. Especially the guy with the long black hair and infectious smile who sang Red Red Wine and absolutely and totally brought the reggae vibe. You could just tell he would sing something like that, too, the minute he got onstage wearing a drug rug and long flowy pants. You honestly dug his aesthetic and his voice, and so did Shinsou considering you both started dancing in your seats the minute the song started. To be fair, though, it’s a good fucking song. Another guy who caught your attention was a dude with a shit ton of piercings, you notices four on his ear, an eyebrow piercing, a lip piercing, and when he was singing you saw a tongue piercing too. His black hair was messy and almost completely covered his eyes, but you could just tell that he was intense. Take What You Want by Post Malone never sounded so dark and angry. They both made it to the next round.

Next thing you knew, it was your category. The smallest category. And much to your bad luck, you were the last one to audition. Luckily, Shinsou was second to last. “Think that was on purpose?” he asks you as you wait backstage. “What do you mean?”

“The judges like to be dramatic on this show. They said we were top two material in general auditions... think they made us the final two on purpose?” You hadn’t thought about that. But you have to say, it does make sense. “Huh. Wild. Guess we better pull out all the stops then.”

“Original?”

“Obviously,” you grin, and he returns it. “Well, might as well do the song I wrote based off of that old high school friend Monoma I told you about.”

“The one where he went to LA for college and wound up coming back to Japan all... different?”

“That’s the one. I feel like I need to be that poetic and mysterious guy and what better song to sing when we’re here. In LA.”

“Yeah, yeah okay Mr. Mysterious. As for me, I’ll just be sad singing about, you know, him.”

“Still warning you in advance, if I ever meet this guy, I’m literally fighting him. And I’m winning,” Shinsou says, and you can’t stop the smile that breaks out across your face. You don’t see it, but your smile causes him to smile. And then the two of you are just cheesing about each other without actually telling each other y’all are the reason for your cheesing. How cute.

Watching the other singer-songwriters do their thing was really fun for you, actually. There was a girl with a jet-black ponytail who did an amazing cover of Skinny Love. Your favorite thing about her was how creative she got with the guitar during it, she added a few new riffs and really just showed her skill with the instrument. Then there was the guy who had like absolutely no presence or personality until he started playing his guitar and singing What Do I Know by Ed Sheeran. He immediately came to life and everyone was bumping to it. His hair was also dyed half red and half white which looked really cool. And then there was the guy who had the typical nerdy indie look with his glasses and navy-blue hair. He played the piano instead of the usual guitar for his cover of Cherry Wine by Hozier and absolutely smashed it. Now none of this helped your nerves, but luckily Shinsou was there to put a brave face on for you and keep you relaxed. Then, it was finally his turn. You could tell he was nervous since he can only hide his emotions from you so much, so instead of psyching him out more, you just grabbed his hand and gave it a little squeeze. He’s the type of person who needs a physical reminder that everything would be okay, and so far, every time you’ve done that action with him, it’s helped calm him down faster than words could. Sure enough, it worked, and he gave you a small smile before walking out onstage. For his performance he’s playing the piano, so he walked over and sat down. “Hello again,” Midnight says, smiling at him. “What will you be singing for this challenge?” Keigo asks, and Shinsou clears his throat. “Um, I have another original for you all.” He could hear the crowd murmur and see a few people whispering to each other. No one had ever really done an original at Hell Week before. They all thought that the judges saying that in the beginning was a joke because of how intense this week could be. Well everyone except Mina and Denki of course.

“That’s great! What’s it called?” Toshinori asks. “Dying In LA.”

“I like the title. Whenever you’re ready,” Aizawa says, and Shinsou nods. He begins playing the opening, before taking a breath and singing.

“The moment you arrived they built you up;

The sun was in your eyes.

You couldn't believe it.

Riches all around, you're walking

Stars are on the ground.

You start to believe it.

Every face along the boulevard is a dreamer just like you.

You looked at death in a tarot card and you saw what you had to do.

But nobody knows you now,

When you're dying in LA.

And nobody owes you now,

When you're dying in LA.

When you're dying in LA.”

People immediately started cheering the minute he did his little rocker dying thing. And he loved it. He could honestly get used to that.

“When you're dying in LA.

The power, the power, the power…

Oh, the power, the power, the power

Of LA.

Nights at the chateau;

Trapped in your sunset bungalow,

You couldn't escape it, yeah.

Drink of paradise,

They told you ‘Put your blood on ice.

You're not gonna make it.’

Every face along the boulevard is a dreamer just like you.

You looked at death in a tarot card and you saw what you had to do.

But nobody knows you now,

When you're dying in LA.

And nobody owes you now,

When you're dying in LA.

When you're dying in LA.

When you're dying in LA.

The power, the power, the power…

Oh, the power, the power, the power

Of LA”

As expected, everyone was dead silent for a moment before breaking out into applause. Even the judges gave him a standing ovation. And you had to follow literally the most perfect human being and songwriter. Nice. The judges aren’t really permitted to say anything after the performance because they need to just listen to the singing and judge off of that, so Shinsou walks offstage and back over to you. “I warmed them up for you,” he says, and you snort. “Wow, thanks. Maybe next time don’t be that amazing.”

“Hmmm, that’s a tall order, kitten.”

“Yeah, my bad, can’t ask someone perfect to be less perfect.”

“You’re right about that, which is why your performance is going to be much better than mine was,” he pats your head with a grin, before shooing you onstage. You walk on, clutching your guitar as you greet the judges. “Hey chickadee, you gonna sing an original for us too?” Hawks asks, and Midnight hits his arm. “Don’t just go assuming that she also has an original prepared, what if she doesn’t? Do you know how stressed out that would make her you glorified Kentucky Fried Chicken Colonel!”

“Actually, I do have an original prepared.”

“Oh, well in that case I’m excited to hear it! What’s it called?”

“Graveyard,” you respond, and Aizawa motions for you to begin whenever you’re ready. You take a deep breath before strumming away, picking at the strings of your guitar to make the melody you’d written so long ago. Then, you open your mouth.

“It's crazy when The thing you love the most is the detriment; Let that sink in. You can think again, When the hand you wanna hold is a weapon and You're nothin' but skin.

Oh, 'cause I keep diggin' myself down deeper, I won't stop 'til I get where you are. I keep running, I keep running, I keep running.

They say I may be making a mistake, I would've followed all the way, no matter how far. I know when you go down all your darkest roads, I would've followed all the way to the graveyard.

Oh, 'cause I keep diggin' myself down deeper, I won't stop 'til I get where you are. I keep running when both my feet hurt, I won't stop 'til I get where you are. Oh, when you go down all your darkest roads I would've followed all the way to the graveyard (no, oh).

You look at me (look at me) With eyes so dark, don't know how you even see, You push right through me (push right through me). It's gettin' real. You lock the door, you're drunk at the steering wheel, And I can't conceal.

Oh, 'cause I've been diggin' myself down deeper, I won't stop 'til I get where you are. I keep running, I keep running, I keep running.

They say I may be making a mistake, I would've followed all the way, no matter how far. I know when you go down all your darkest roads, I would've followed all the way to the graveyard.

Oh, 'cause I keep diggin' myself down deeper, I won't stop 'til I get where you are. I keep running when both my feet hurt, I won't stop 'til I get where you are. Oh, when you go down all your darkest roads, I would've followed all the way to the graveyard.

Oh, it's funny how… The warning signs can feel like they're butterflies…

Oh, 'cause I keep diggin' myself down deeper, I won't stop 'til I get where you are. I keep running when both my feet hurt, I won't stop 'til I get where you are. Oh, when you go down all your darkest roads, I would've followed all the way to the graveyard.”

Just like Shinsou, there was a moment of silence before everyone applauded. This was a weird feeling. You’d never really sung an original song in front of a crowd of people this big before, and you never expected to have celebrities give your original song a standing ovation. But here you were, Hell Week in UA Idol, and this feeling was honestly something you could get used to. You’re just happy people enjoyed it. You hurry offstage and go over to Shinsou who immediately encapsulates you in a hug. Huh. That’s new. You don’t hate it though. This is actually… pretty nice. He gives good hugs. And you love the lavender scent he gives off, it almost gives him a lavender hue, actually. “You did amazing, (Y/n). Better than I ever could,” he tells you with a small grin. But it doesn’t look like he’s jealous. If anything, he looks proud. Like he’s proud of you. Like you just did something that made him feel happier than anything in the world. You liked him looking at you like that. You want him to look at you like that more. “That’s a lie, you’re the best singer-songwriter I know.”

“That’s because you’ve never actually met yourself other than looking in a mirror. If you actually knew you, you’d take that statement back.”

You’d be lying if you said that didn’t make you blush. The producers ushered you all in a different room, allowing the judges time to talk about who was going through and who wasn’t. You and Shinsou stuck to each other like glue and tried to ignore the stares and looks at you two. That was when the guy with the navy-blue hair approached the two of you, and kind of screamed, but you could tell that he was just using his regular talking voice. “You’re both very talented! I hope one day I am able to write songs like that!”

“Hey, thanks man. I’m sure if you tried right now you could write songs like ours; everyone has the ability to write something good if they have the drive,” Shinsou tells him, and you can’t help but feel a sense of pride swell up in your chest. Shinsou was a really good person. And you were his friend. How did you get so lucky? “My name is Tenya Iida! It’s a pleasure to meet both of you, and I hope we all get through so I can talk to you both about songwriting some more,” he says, a big smile on his face as he sticks out his… very large hand. It wasn’t for a handshake or anything. The man just talks with his hands. You could see the callouses on his fingers from the guitar, though. Gotta love that. Since the singer-songwriter genre was the smallest, the judges seemed to make their decisions very quickly. You and Shinsou watched as people got turned away and as other got through to the next round. Iida, the guy with the dyed hair, and the girl with the black ponytail all made it through to the next round, which you were happy about. They were all very talented and deserved it 100%. But now, the only people who were left in the genre and the entire competition were you and Shinsou. “Do you think we didn’t make it?”

“Well… honestly I don’t know. If we didn’t, at least we got some exposure. Maybe someone will see us, and you can pay off your student loans and I can pay off my mom’s medical bills.”

“And maybe then you could go to university. I know you’ve always wanted to go to school for a music production major.”

He looks over at you with kind of big eyes. How did you know about that? He may have mentioned it off-hand like once while you, Mina, and Denki were around. Did you really just pay attention to him like that? And if you did, why did it just make his heart literally skip a beat? What is going on? Before he could even ask you, the producers gave you two the go-ahead to go onstage. You both walked out, obviously very nervous, but you stopped in the middle. “Well, well, well,” Midnight says, leaning into her microphone. “I bet you two are probably freaking out because what kind of line up of people is two people, right?” Keigo asks, and you both nod. “See, I told you. They know fear. Recording artists would be nothing without fear. These two are something,” Aizawa says, pointing at the two of you. Did the Shouta Aizawa just say the two of you were something? What? “Well, you don’t need to be nervous!” Toshinori screams, smiling very wide at the two of you. “Yeah, after all, we can’t just leave our top two in Hell Week,” Midnight says.

“Congratulations, Shinsou and (Y/n). You’re moving on to the next challenge.”

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Song list:

Kirishima | Golden - Harry Styles

Mina | If I Were A Boy - The Queen, Beyoncé

Denki | Old Me - 5 Seconds of Summer

TetsuTetsu | Adore You - Harry Styles

Toga | Don’t Let Me Down - The Chainsmokers

Midoriya | Imagine - John Lennon

Mirio | Africa - Toto

Uraraka | I Will Always Love You - Whitney Houston

Tsu | Before He Cheats - Carrie Underwood

Bakugo | Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) - Green Day

Shigaraki | Disenchanted - My Chemical Romance

Tokoyami | Creep - Radiohead

Jirou | That’s What You Get - Paramore

Sero | Red Red Wine - UB40

Dabi | Take What You Want - Post Malone ft. Ozzy Osbourne & Travis Scott

Momo | Skinny Love - Bon Iver

Todoroki | What Do I Know - Ed Sheeran

Iida | Cherry Wine - Hozier

Shinsou | Dying In LA - Panic! At The Disco

(Y/n) | Graveyard (Stripped) - Halsey

[ariddletobesolved]

Days We Spend Under the Sun (Ten - End)

Written for @helsa-summer-event ❤

Fandom: Frozen

Genre: Romance, Family, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Whump

Rating: T

Summary: Summer is not her favourite season, but a certain Admiral from the neighbouring kingdom is going to change that.

Brace yourself for a long arse chapter, and maybe a little cheesy (idk). This is the last chapter of this AU (feeling emotional already, lmao). Sorry it took a while, I've been dealing with several things, but here I am. I won't write too much notes, as I've prepared another post just for that. Thanks for reading and supporting this AU. Enjoy!

Prompt 7: Free

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Chapter Ten

"I don't know if I can do this."

Hans sighed as he put down the small box on the wooden table, pushing it closer to the queen's direction.

From her seat behind the desk, Anna gave him a look. She raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Would you care to elaborate?"

The former prince pinched the bridge of his nose, before turning to face the queen.

"I don't think she'll say yes." He replied, his hands clasped behind his back as he stood up straight. "We haven't been courting for that long, and the past we shared—"

"Yes, yes, I'm aware." Anna calmly interjected. Her hands were in her lap, eyes darting from the box towards him. "But you seemed so eager and determined a week ago, what changes?"

His jaw clenched, for the vivid memory of his dream last night came crashing at him, flooding his senses. It had been two months since the last time the nightmare occurred, about him, standing in the pool of blood on the slowly melting fjord, gazing at a pair of dull blue eyes that stared back at him. Elsa was dead, and he would become king like he wanted. The ice beneath him thawed, and he fell into the cold water. That was when he woke up, gasping for air, only to see Elsa, alive and murmuring sweet nothings to his ear. Realising that it was all just a dream, he pulled Elsa into his embrace, muttering how sorry he was.

It was a vision of what could've been, had he succeeded in ending the Eternal Winter by going for the source of magic. Even after years of punishment and redemption, the guilt was still there, eating him alive. Had it not been for Elsa's comfort, Hans wouldn't have known how to keep going.

"Hans?"

"I was a monster." He gulped. "Maybe I still am, knowing that some people still don't trust me. And for that, I know I'm not worthy of your sister's love, or anyone else's."

"You were." Anna grabbed the small box and a roll of parchment, then getting up from her chair. "Hans, you'd wronged me. I won't sugarcoat it. You left me to die in that room, you deceived me, and you were out to kill my sister. I admit, I took great pleasure when I punched you in the face."

The whole time, Hans didn't even flinch. He knew what he had done wrong, he was aware of that, and he would forever regret it.

"So I've noticed, even after all those dark months, some people still refused to look you in the eye, not wanting to acknowledge you as a person." She walked over and stopped before the tall redhead. "I did that too when you first came here after years. Elsa was the one insisting to lock you up, but I didn't see the point. There was something different about you."

When a roll of parchment was offered to him, Hans frowned. "Why are you doing this, Anna?"

"As much as I'm doing this for Elsa, I also believe you're not the same person who came to Arendelle with an ambition to become king." Anna spoke, her gaze showed kindness. "I can see that now, and it's not only because you won us war.

"That Prince Hans of The Southern Isles, who had a miserable childhood, dying to prove himself to his father and twelve older brothers, who attempted to marry into the throne to become king and was willing to commit a murder to fulfil such an ambition, was a failure. He wasn't born evil, yet he had failed to stop himself from being blinded by ambitions, and his tragic past doesn't excuse what he did." She paused, thrusting the roll onto his grasp. "But the man standing before me right now is not him. I trust you understand what I mean, Vice Admiral." Anna smiled as she mentioned his new title.

There was a beat, before Hans asked in disbelief, "They approved?" He unrolled it and began to read its content, green eyes were scanning the words over and over again. 

"It was a long discussion with Captain Larsson, but apparently, some people already accept you as one of us, even Admiral Goran." She was relieved and worried at the same time. She knew Hans doubted himself, at least she had heard Elsa mentioned it to her a couple of times, but she also knew that the two of them—Elsa and Hans were madly in love with each other. All they needed was a little push. 

"Hans," Anna called, and immediately, his attention was on her.

"Thank you so much! I don't know what to say, this is," Hans beamed, "does Elsa know?"

"Not yet." The strawberry blonde smiled. "I figured you'll be the one telling her, as planned."

Realisation began to sink in and he pressed his lips in a tight line. "Right."

"You're doubting yourself, aren't you?" The queen studied him closely. "I see how you look at my sister, and how she looks back at you. I know Elsa, and I've never seen her being this happy—different kind of happy. You might not notice it, but she is glowing whenever she is with you. She cares about you, and I know you care about her, a lot, I may add."

"Do you really think so?"

Anna rolled her eyes in a playful manner. "I know so!" She pressed the small box gently on his hand, and gave him a little push. "Now go and propose to my sister. You already have my blessing, and that means you have one less thing to worry about."

The gesture from his, hopefully, future sister in law brought a smile on his face. Hans glanced at her, feeling grateful for her kindness. He firmly held the box in his right hand. The queen was no longer that naive little princess, who would marry a man she just met because she was desperate for love. She had grown into a compassionate and caring Queen of Arendelle, whose prosperous reign was equal to her predecessor, her sister. Whether it was motherhood or her kind nature, he didn't know.

"Thank you, Anna." Hans didn't know if hugging the queen was the best move, so he went to shake her hand. But Anna, sensing his hesitation, pulled him in a quick hug.

"No, thank Elsa." She said, holding him by his shoulders. "I might be the one who opened the door, but she was the one who let you in."

The former prince nodded. The sisters' kindness was obviously contagious, and it was a part of several reasons why he wanted to change for the better.

"But," Anna said, her tone turned dramatically, "if you hurt my sister, I won't hesitate to punch you in the face, again, and I'll make sure that your nose wouldn't be the only thing that's broken." 

Hans gulped. Of course he knew better than causing the Snow Queen any pain. He nodded.

"Now, go!" Anna smiled, pushing him towards the door. "You have a date to attend. Also, it's a perfect place for a date in this castle, so might as well, not spoil it."

"Okay, okay."

"Oh, and Hans?" Just when he was about to close the door, she added, "welcome to the family."

—

Hans couldn't stop smiling. A sudden surge of confidence boosted through him, as he made his way towards Elsa's room. With a ring in his pocket, a bouquet of her favourite flowers and a new dress for her in his grasp, he began to think of how their day would proceed. If Anna was right, and Elsa said yes, Hans would be the luckiest man alive, he knew that for sure. Standing before the wooden door, he composed himself. As he turned the bronze handle, he heard voices talking.

"Oh, I don't know what he is planning, but I heard him talking to Anna about dresses and flowers." It was Olaf. "I hope he is not planning something bad."

Hans was frozen on the spot. Did the snowman think that he had a bad intention towards Elsa? He knew Olaf was probably not making any sense, but it was enough to make him think of the worst.

Elsa chuckled. "Olaf, why would he plan something bad with dresses and flowers? It sounds like something romantic, but I can be wrong."

It was a relief, but gone was the confidence he brought along as the next question came up.

"You said he had a nightmare, Elsa, what was that about?"

There was a silence, thick and hostile, from where he was standing. Doubts began to cloud his mind, as he wondered what she might be thinking. Not wanting to wait any longer, he pushed the door open. 

Her beautiful smile was the first thing that greeted him. Still dressed in her nightgown, Elsa looked radiant, as she sat on the bed with a breakfast tray in her lap. Olaf beamed and waved at him.

"I wish they would allow me to join you for breakfast, since I'm feeling much better now." Elsa sighed when she saw him walk over. "What do you have there?"

Hans flashed her a smile, settling the neatly folded dress over the chair nearby and put the flowers in her grasp, before leaning in to kiss her lips.

"Presents." He let out, sitting on the bed next to her.

Olaf nudged her, "See? I told you!" The snowman then collected her tray, before getting back on his feet. "I think I'll leave you both to it. See you later!"

Once the bedroom door was closed, Hans put his hand on her thigh and squeezed it lightly. At the gesture, she let out a giggle, before shoving his hand off. "Hans, no!" She smiled gently, cradling the bouquet close to her chest. "Thank you." Fondly, Elsa admired the bouquet, inhaling the familiar scent. "It's lovely."

"I'm actually planning something for the both of us." He stated, tucking her loose blonde strands behind her ear.

Eagerly, her blue eyes widened with interest. "Really, what is it? Are we going to go sailing?"

Sailing was his previous plan, indeed, but since Elsa was only recovering from her fever, Hans decided that they should stay in. He didn't wish to cause her any more harm than he already did, although the rising temperature wasn't exactly his doing. Besides, if Elsa said yes to a lifetime with him, it means that they would sail forever in holy matrimony.

"You'll see," was all his reply.

—

Moments later, Elsa and Hans were standing on the balcony at the back of the castle, facing the perfect view of the open sea. Anna was right, Hans thought, it was a perfect place for a date. A table for two was set up, with cakes, a teapot, two cups, and some boxes of chocolate were served on the table. A bouquet of heathers was placed in the middle.

Elsa could recall how many times she would go there in between meetings when she was queen, just to allow herself to think. She loved the view, the blueness of the ocean, and the gentle caress of the wind, they offered her comfort. It was rather quiet, even during the day, but at least she wasn't alone this time.

Hans held her close from behind, one hand was holding the railing, and the other was around her torso. His mind wandered back to the conversation he had with Anna. He would never forget her generosity in giving him the chance to prove himself that he was capable of growth—the chance not everyone would grant him. She allowed him to stay in Arendelle, to serve in the navy, so he could be close to the love of his life, despite the dark past they shared. Then he began to think of Elsa's silence when the topic about his nightmare was brought up.

"You're quiet." Elsa stirred in his embrace and turned to face him. "What are you thinking about?"

"Things." He said, before letting out a sigh. "I'm sorry, Elsa, I shouldn't have ruined it for you. We can have some tea and chocolates."

Hans was about to move to the table, when Elsa stopped him. "You didn't ruin anything at all. I was only wondering why you were quiet." She paused, eyes were never leaving his. "Would you like to talk about what's troubling you?"

"What makes you think it's troubling me?" It was a little defensive on his part.

Elsa frowned. "Your reaction right now is what." She blinked. "Is it your nightmare?"

She wondered what made him act so defensive. The past few days, Elsa noticed how he had been acting strange, and she was under the impression that he was hiding something, but what? That couldn't have had anything to do with the recurring nightmare, could it?

"Hans?"

Ignoring her, the redhead let go of her hand, before turning around. He pulled out a box from his pocket, admiring the diamond ring inside. Oh, how he wished everything was easier for him.

"You've been hiding something." It was loud and clear in his ear. "What is it?"

"Nothing." He muttered, still with his back facing her. Putting the box back into his pocket, Hans looked back.

Thoughts were running through her head, and some of them weren't pretty. "Are you doubting us?" 

"It's not that." Hans shook his head. The frown on his face deepened.

Elsa, growing frustrated as the second passed, looked away. Her cheeks were flushing as anger began to build up. "I can't believe you don't even trust me, especially with whatever it is you're hiding."

"It's not that simple, Elsa." He took a deep breath, rubbing his face in an equal frustration. "You don't understand."

"Then make me!" Elsa pressed, taking a step closer. 

Her fingertips were cold, as she tried to contain her powers from exploding. She breathed heavily, the storm in her chest was raging, but there was something in his emerald eyes—remorseful and sincere—as she held his gaze. Closing her eyes, Elsa tried to calm her mind. Anger was never a solution, and one of them should hold their ground if they wanted to carry on with the conversation. Perhaps what he needed was comfort.

"Hans," The former queen called, after another minute passed with silence. She looked up, staring at him with her blue eyes, while holding one hand out. "Come here."

When Hans took her hand, Elsa immediately pulled him into an embrace. She wounded her arms around his torso, resting her cheek against his shoulder. Gently, he returned the gesture and pressed a kiss on her temple. Nothing could top the feeling of holding each other close, getting lost in the comfort.

Closing his eyes, Hans breathed in her scent. Maybe asking her wouldn't hurt, he thought, and he shouldn't be selfish if he wanted to take their relationship one step ahead. And with a determination, he let out, "Kaere."

A beat.

"Yes?"

He took a deep breath, still holding her hand. "I need to tell you something."

Taking one step back, his knee bended slightly, and Elsa tried to stifle a gasp. Is he going to propose? She thought, is this what he has been hiding from me? Her pulse quickened, anticipating what was about to come. Elsa didn't see that coming, but for some reason, she was glad.

The former queen was no fool, and she frowned when she saw him stand up straight. She put two and two together, and realised that he had been doubting his own self. She knew about his nightmare, and how remorseful he had been. To see him looking unsure brought a pang on her chest. She couldn't wait any longer.

"Marry me." Elsa blurted out.

Stunned. Her words got him frozen on the spot. Hans stood there, dumbfounded. Marry me. Those words echoed in his mind, and he had to blink to make sure that he wasn't dreaming. Did she just—

"Hans?" She whispered, taking a step closer to cradle his head. "Are you—

But before she could continue, Hans captured her lips with his. Gone was the hesitation, the doubts that had been haunting him, as he got lost in the passion. Her lips were firmly pressed against his, as if she tried to give him a proper reassurance. He held her close by the waist, as he deepened the kiss, savouring the taste of her tongue, before they pulled away.

"Is that a yes?" She asked breathlessly, smiling ear to ear, pressing her forehead against his.

"Kaere," Hans couldn't contain the joy. He let go of her waist, and held her hand. With a surge of confidence, he got down on one knee. "Allow me to do it properly."

He pulled out the small diamond ring and held it up. 

"Elsa," he began, "I know I'm not worthy of your love," seeing the look of disapproval on her face, Hans gave her hand a gentle tug, "hear me out, please?"

"Okay." Her heart swelled inside her ribcage, and warmth overflowing in her body. She nodded.

"I know I'm not worthy of your love," he repeated, "forgiveness, even a second chance. What I've done in the past is unforgivable, and I'm accepting that.

"But you, Elsa, you have given me the chance to get to know you, and I'm grateful for that. Anna, Kristoff, Olaf, and you are the kindest people I know. You have shown me kindness, and for that, I'm forever grateful. I love you, min Kaere, and nothing will ever change that. I've never felt this way before, and you don't know how hard it was to deny it. Because loving you feels so right, but also wrong at the same time. Our union is frowned upon because of our past, but we've proved them wrong."

"Hans," she gasped. Her eyes were glassy with tears at his confession.

"I have nothing grand to offer, and I may be pushing my luck, but," he paused, looking at her with sincerity, "Elisabeth," he gently said, taking her by surprise at her given name. "Will you marry me?"

Her vision got blurry with tears as she stood there. It was too much for her, the love and joy that she felt was overwhelming, but in a good way.

"Yes." She nodded furiously. "God, yes!"

He slid the ring on her finger, and got up to pull her into his arms. He spun her around, burying his face in the crook of her neck. There were sparks in his chest when he heard her giggles, and realisation began to sink in. They're engaged.

"I love you." He put her down, so they were standing face to face. One hand cradled her head, with his thumb rubbing her cheek gently. "I love you so much."

Elsa smiled, giving into his touch. "And I love you too, so very much." She covered his hand with hers, as she pressed a gentle kiss on the heel of his palm. "Don't ever doubt yourself, okay? You are worthy."

Hans nodded slowly. "Forgive me."

"It's okay." Elsa nuzzled his nose. "There's nothing to forgive."

"There's also another thing." He began.

Elsa tilted her head with interest. "Yes?"

"I'm staying." Hans smiled. "This time for good."

"Hans, what?" With her mouth agape, she gazed into his emerald eyes, searching for any hint of mischief, and when she couldn't find any, she blinked. "I don't understand."

He led her to a chair nearby, and helped her sit, before seating himself next to her. Taking her hand in his, Hans pressed his lips over the knuckles.

"So, I might have asked Anna a favour just about last week. I was applying for a vacant spot in the Arendellian Navy."

It did not take her long to guess. "The Vice Admiral?"

The redhead nodded. "Yes."

"And you got it?" This time, she was smiling.

"I did."

Elsa didn't know what to say. The news was another thing she didn't expect to hear, and it seemed as if her day couldn't get any better.

"It's," the former queen paused, "wonderful! I'm so happy for you, truly."

She cupped his face and showered him with kisses, from his forehead to his temple, then his nose, and down to his lips. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Elsa settled on his lap. She nuzzled the crook of his neck as he held her close.

"I'm so glad to have you home, Hans." She murmured.

"Home?"

Elsa nodded, looking up to him, fondly. "You're here now with me. We are home."

Home. He liked the ring of it. Elsa had been his safe haven, and then she was his home. In the end, things were working out just fine, and they were both alright.

"Thank you, Elsa."

"Hmm?" She eyed the new accessory on her ring finger with a smile, before darting her attention back to him. "For what?"

Hans felt his heart swell. He pressed another kiss on her temple. "For letting me in, and giving me a second chance." And he would be forever grateful for that.

Quietly, Elsa settled back in his embrace. Her blue eyes were gazing far ahead at the open sea. Once in a while, she stole glances at the symbol of their union, and she realised that the past few days they spent under the sun were leading up to that very moment. How their story went as the time passed, she would treasure that, and despite the rocky path they had to take to get there, Elsa regretted nothing.

Suddenly the future didn't seem to be uncertain. Hans is staying, and we're getting married, Elsa told herself. That steadiness, something to hold onto, was all she needed. And forever with him, she couldn't wait to spend.

END.

[blog-sliverofjade]

Hearth Fires 6:  Animals

Pairing: Remi Denier x OFC

Summary:  Lorel Maddox just wants to live as a human, run her bakery in peace, and forget. Unfortunately, the alpha of the local leopard pack has very different ideas.

Remi Denier doesn’t know what to make of the female Changeling who wants nothing to do with him or the RainFire pack. He does know that he has a driving need to protect her. Even if it’s from herself.

While they’re embroiled in a battle of wills, there’s a war brewing on the horizon. The outside threat could not only destroy everything they hold dear, but tear apart the fragile new bonds of the Trinity Accord, plunging the world into bloodshed to rival the Territorial Wars of centuries past.  

Word count: 1691

Content warning: Racist cop

Hearth Fires Masterlist

Beta read by the matchless pandabearer

           The officers eased up when they realized that Lorel was in 100% human form, which was a short and plump one, at that; someone had told her once that in her pretty dresses she looked about as dangerous as a cupcake.  Appearances certainly were deceiving, after all, since she could probably do significant damage to the woman currently carrying on outside. While the thought was definitely tempting, she knew she wasn’t fast enough to get past four cops before they could take her down.  That was her cat’s risk assessment, not hers. She was still frozen in shock.

           Looking like they’d stepped into The Twilight Zone , they lowered their weapons.  She felt the same way, her brain trying to wrap itself around the presence of Enforcement in her bakery for anything other than coffee and donuts.

           One stepped forward to ask her some questions and she answered truthfully.  The absurdity of the situation and their authoritative tone had her operating mostly on autopilot while she focused on keeping her ocelot under control.  The cat bared its teeth at the intruders, wanting to drive them off its territory.

        It quickly became obvious that the snotty woman had reported that Lorel had threatened and stalked her down the street.  Naturally, she was more than happy to disabuse them of that falsehood.

           “Would you like to see the camera footage?” she offered.

           Three of the quartet followed her, the other went to question the other party.  She only used the small office off the kitchen to meet customers with large custom designs like wedding cakes.  Usually, she placed orders from her organizer while having tea or a bite to eat at one of the tables on the sidewalk out front, although that would probably change soon with the weather.

           The portable device was perfectly capable of displaying the CCTV feed, but the screen in the back was larger.  She slipped behind the desk and tried not to feel claustrophobic with the black-clad officers filling the rest of the tiny space between her and the door.  Their scents filled the room, making it hard for her to breathe.

           Lorel closed the sketches she’d been working on to bring up the video.  There was no sound, but it was plain from their body language that the blonde was the aggressor.  She’d been too shocked at the time to note the other woman’s belligerent stance and excessive gesticulations.  As for herself, she looked like someone had smacked her across the face with a fish. She had only moved to grip the counter once the vile words had sunk in, trying to keep from leaping over the counter.  Thankfully she never actually lunged for her throat.

           The trio relaxed as they watched, alternately annoyed, exasperated, disgusted, and resigned.  Not that much of their emotions showed on their faces; it was their scents that gave them away.  A part of her brain filed that realization away to freak out over later.  

           Once the video caught up to when the cops entered, she hit pause.  They asked more questions, most of which washed over her without fully registering in her mind.  She was still reeling emotionally, and her cat was too on edge over the strange predators. A couple of lips pursed, and she thought she caught an eye roll when she got to the part that had been the last straw and she kicked the blonde out.  Their obvious distaste at the false report had her cat easing down a bit, giving her room to breathe.

           “Thank you, miss.”  

           Now that she was no longer fighting the all-encompassing urge to attack, she noted the name on his uniform.  Sugiyama. They’d introduced themselves once they realized she wasn’t even armed with so much as a spatula, but she’d been too off-balance to absorb the information at the time.

           “Maddox.  Lorel Maddox.”  They responded automatically to the ritual of etiquette when she offered a handshake.  She smiled, careful to not flash any more teeth than absolutely necessary. While they appeared genial now, she still didn’t want to give them an excuse to think that she was threatening them in the enclosed space.  Her cat didn’t like being crowded in there at all and she was afraid of how it’d react if subjected to any more stress. “Would ya’ll like a copy of the video?”

           “No, I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Sugiyama, apparently the senior officer since he’d been doing most of the speaking, shook his head.  “The sheriff will want to speak with you, though.”

           Moving out of sheer habit, she escorted them to the front where she plied them with samples and coffee.  Her hands shook as she went through the motions. She knew that not all such interactions between Changelings and Enforcement went so peacefully.  Was that what she’d intended? She thought she was going to be sick.

           Her cat wanted to hunt her down and rip her throat out.

           Invisible bugs crawled across Remi’s skin.  He flexed his foot a little harder on the pedal and the vehicle responded readily with a burst of speed that pressed him back against the seat.  He could have set it to autopilot once he’d reached the highway, but the safety protocols would’ve kept him at the speed limit and he didn’t have time for that.  The clock on the dash told him that he’d received Chloe’s call merely eleven minutes ago, yet it felt like hours.  

           They’d thus far managed to squeak by without any run-ins with Enforcement, and now he had to intervene on behalf of someone who wasn’t even a packmember yet.  Local Enforcement was almost purely human, with the odd Psy here and there. Most of the Psy brass from the Council days had been cleaned out. Rainfire hadn’t had enough dominants, even if they’d been interested, to spare to the force since they were no longer barred from the ranks.

           After the abuses of the Psy under Silence, the human-dominated city Enforcement distrusted anyone who wasn’t entirely human.  The fall-out of this encounter could impact racial relations in the area for years to come and it all hinged on a stubborn, unpredictable ocelot.

           He pulled to a stop in front of the hardware store in record time.  Cop cars clogged up the parking spaces in front of the bakery and yarn shop across the street.

           “Jack’s just started questioning her,” Chloe called with a grimace from the alcove of her doorway.  The way she wrapped her rainbow-coloured shawl tightly around herself made it sound more nefarious than a simple interview.

           He grunted and nodded in thanks.  He’d met the human woman a few times at her husband’s hardware store, so she knew he wasn’t considered chatty even on his more gregarious days and wasn’t likely to take offense at his response.  But he had to get verbal. Fast.

           Keeping to an easy stride (running headlong was only something hot-headed dominant juveniles did, he reminded himself), he focused on the voices drifting out the open door.  He couldn’t remember the last time he was so grateful for his acute hearing.

           “I just want to know what the problem is.”  Sheriff Shank somehow managed to sound both friendly and patronizing.  The ears of Remi’s leopard went flat against its head and it curled its upper lip in a sneer.

           “She used a slur so I asked her to leave.”  Lorel was clearly becoming exasperated. No cat tolerated condescension for long.  Unfortunately, there were cops forming a loose cordon in front to block his way and he was not in the mood to play at being non-threatening.

           “And what slur was that?”  

           “Animal.”

           Remi had to stop and make nice with the cops when all he wanted to do was burst in there and crack la crâne de cette bibette.  

           “Don’t you people use that word?  Talk about yourselves as cats and dogs?”  The derision in his voice had claws shoving at Remi’s fingertips.  It took every ounce of willpower to keep them in as he made small talk with the guards, working his way around to getting their version of the story.

           “Wolves, there are no dog Changelings.”  The drinks and treats in their hands had his leopard snorting; she’d all but tried to throw him out on his ear when he’d dropped by and then turned on the Southern belle grace full force when Enforcement descended.  He wondered if she knew that he was loathe to see her hurt or if she didn't recognize the lethal threat he posed.

           “So, what’s the difference between ‘animal’ and a specific animal?”

           “Context.  She accused me of taking jobs from humans.”  It was nice to hear that icy tone directed at someone else instead of at him.

           “You specifically?”

           “Well, no, she-”

           “So you kicked her out for expressing an opinion?  Did you know her husband lost his job to one of you?  Ever since ya’ll moved in work’s been hard to come by.”  That was a load of shit.  Some people had their panties in a twist because the timber industry was banned from RainFire lands, while conveniently ignoring the benefits to local businesses

           “That’s no reason to call Enforcement, I certainly didn’t threaten her!”

           The officers- Sugiyama, Norton, and Carter- made it plain that nothing had happened and that the sheriff was “just finishing up” with Lorelei.

           “Predatory Changelings like you can be pretty scary.”  Shank drew “pretty” out into nearly four syllables. “You should just be glad she wasn’t carrying.  This is a stand-your-ground state.”  It was all he could do to keep his eyes from going cat at the subtle threat.

           “You’re saying a woman can come into my shop, scream and insult me, then shoot me if I look at her funny and it’s legal?”

           “Sure, if she’s scared for her life.”  

           “But I didn’t do anything, I only asked her to leave!”  From the corner of his eye, he saw her throw her hands in the air.

           “See, that’s the problem with you folks, you’re just too aggressive.”

           “Oh, you think this is aggressive?”

           And that was his cue to enter stage right.

[touchmycoat]

hey~ Ask and I will always be willing to send you a prompt XD But how about SaboAce with “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

thank you thank you thank you

from the Pirates of the Caribbean AU. SaboAce, rated T for gratuitous swearing and violence.

((send me a ship and a number and i’ll write you a drabble))

This was shaping up to be, by far, the worst party of Sabo’s entirelife.

“Fuck.” He’dlost his sword in the fight with the big masked bastard. Not that theguy got the upper hand on him or anything. It had been pure luck—agust of wind and a speck of dust well-landed, Sabo cringing andgetting the sword smacked out of his grip, the door slamming shutjust before Sabo could reach through and grab hold of his weapon oncemore.

(Sabo probablycould’ve made it with a bruised wrist, had it not been the wristthat wore Ace’s compass; a hundred masked bastards could stab Sabothrough the chest and still Sabo wouldn’t risk damage coming tothat compass.)

So there he was,sprinting through the back gardens that were not open to the guestsyet, a cackling madman chasing after him keen on murder. There weredetours Sabo could’ve taken, subpar swords not of his own making hecould’ve yanked out from the sets of armor lining the inner castlewalls, but he had a timetableto keep, dammit. There was a Single Super Important Don’t You DareBe Late Sabo key in his possession and Koala was waiting; he didn’thave the time to properly fight and dispose of his assailant.

“Doublefuck,” Sabo spat, because of course the southeast servant’sentrance was locked. He and Koala had calculated roughly a 20% chanceof this happening on the night of the revolution and had came up withcontingencies, but neither of them had calculated for the actualbloodthirsty pirate on Sabo’s tail.

“Listen,I don’t even know who you are,” the masked man cackled as Saboveered off into an alley that, likely, both of them knew was a deadend. “All I know is that it’ll be awful fun to kill you.”

Brightbrass music was playing from inside the main building, and Sabowasn’t even wearing his nice cravat. Triple fuck.

Buta dead end was a dead end, so Sabo had no other choice but to shimmyhis way up the nearest tree as stealthily as possible and vault hisway through the nearest window.

...Onlyto slam face-first into Ace’s chest. Ace stumbled back with an oof,but caught Sabo by the shoulders before either of them had to hit theground.

“Welllook who it is,” Ace laughed. Sabo forced himself to peel his faceoff the front of Ace’s regal coat, sure that the shiny gold buttonshad left unsavory indents along his cheek. “Where’d you comefrom?”

“Thetree,” Sabo answered immediately, gesturing with his thumb at thewindow. Faintly, he could hear the lumbering steps of the murderouspirate-creep-shitstain traversing the grounds outside. Quadrupleinfinity fuck. “I um, fainted.”

“You…fainted. Straight into my arms.” See Sabo would’ve been justfine, had the Duke of Baterilla been just a nice guy with solidpolitics and economic policies that actually supported the peasantry.He would’ve been just fine, had Ace just been cheery and supportiveof Sabo’s little blacksmithing gig. But no, Ace had to be fuckingbeautiful as well,with all that sun-blessed brown skin and eyes that lit up withdelightedirony at all of Sabo’s jokes and in moments like this. Sabocouldn’t afford to be compromised right now, dammit—but it’snot like he could do anything but be helplessly slack in Ace’s arms(absurdly buff for a theoretically useless member of the gentry) asAce grinned.

“Ifyou wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

Sabowanted to swoon. Sabo wanted to laugh hysterically. Oh he’d showAce extremes, whetheror not he actually wanted to. There was a key in Sabo’s pocket anda murderer right outside the window; shit was about to hit the fanand here he was making moon eyes and being perfectly useless at Ace—

“YourGrace.” A light frown line appeared on Ace’s brow at the title,but he allowed Sabo to guide him by the elbow down the hall, awayfrom the window-slash-ticking time bomb. “Listen, you… You toldme once that you consider me a friend. Is that true?”

NowAce pulled away, looking fully offended.

“Ofcourse it is. The only thing in question has only ever been whetheror not you consider mea friend.” And how it hurt to hear Ace snap at him like this, butSabo knew he fully deserved it. This wasn’t even the worse thingthat was about to take place at this party tonight. Far from it.“I’ve asked you time and time again to call me by my na—”

“Sabo.”

Koala.Mothershitting fuck lord—

Sabowheeled around just in time to catch the musket Koala flung his way.She’d shed her maid’soutfit, now that the infiltration has begun. Stompingforward, Koala barely paused at the sight of Ace. Shejust thrust her hand out and waited for the key.

“Wegot word of a pirate invasion from—”

“Thesouthern docks, I know,” Sabo finished. Before Koala’s eyes couldnarrow, there was the loudsound cracking wood, like a door being smashed open from the outside.People were screaming.

“That’snot one of ours,” Koala declared, probably actually for Ace’sbenefit.

“Iknow. A pirate followed me here.”

Itwas truly amazing how witha single paused breath and aspecifically paced blink, Koala could convey awhole nuanced sentiment: this is so not the time or placebut be sure I’m gonna get on your ass about how you managed to makesuch a foolish mistake on one of the most important nights of ourjoint careers. Koalatook her key, shot one more glance at Ace, then started jogging away.

“We’restill on track for the time table Sabo,” was her parting warning.“You know what’s atstake.”

Really—morethan anything, Sabo knew the stakes. Couldfeel the stakes, a pair of betrayed eyes stabbing into his back.

Aceslapped his outstretched hand away.

“Sabowhat the fuck.”

Whatwas more than the already-existing infinity of fucks? Sabotook a deep breath.

“I’ma Revolutionary.”

“Yeah,”Ace scoffed, sounding much more hurt about being deceived thanderisive. “I kind of pieced that together. Alsokind of pieced together that the coup is tonight—as in, rightnow. Gonnastring me up and out Sabo? Makean example of me and my family for your Revolution?”

Witha wince, Sabo took a step back from the wrists Ace thrust out at him,daring him to bondage.

“Youagreed with me,” Sabo said warily. “Inever hid my politics from you Ace, andevery time we talked—”

“Thisisn’t about your politicsSabo, it’s the fact thatyou lied to me—”

“Aha,there he is, the little blue boy!”

Themasked pirate back again. Except this time, Sabo had a musket and Aceto watch out for. He didn’t even bother letting the manapproach—just shouldered his way in front of Ace, cocked the gun,and shot the pirate dead.

Acehad one hand clawing hard into Sabo’s shoulder, and even then Sabowas grateful for that reengaged point of contact.

“—whenI’ve expressly asked, and then vouchedfor you when you said you weren’t doing anything sketchy!” Acefinished, like the little interlude with the gun and the murder neverhappened. Sabo had to givehim credit—whatever peopleliked to say about faint-hearted and useless royals, Ace was notthat. In fact, Ace wasstrong, and Sabo wassure there would be a bruise on his arm tomorrow.

Downstairsin the main hall, the musicpetered off to an ungraceful stop. There wasn’t any screaming,which probably meant it was Dragon’sdoing, not the pirates. Good.That meant Sabo could stillafford the time to explain.

“You’reright.” Lowering the gun, Sabo turned and let himself standchest-to-chest with Ace. Hewas just the bit taller like this, and tookquiet, fond pleasure at the pinking of Ace’sears when Ace realized. “Ilied, and I’m sorry, I really am. ButI swear I was going to tell you tonight.”

“Beforeor after you overthrew me and my family?”

It’s not evenabout you, Sabo wanted toprotest, but that was more ofa we-have-an-entire-afternoon-to-debate-this sort of argument, not athere-are-two-separate-attacks-being-mounted-against-you-and-your-guests-so-can-we-please-move-along-already-no-matter-how-much-you-hate-me-I-need-to-get-you-to-safetysort. So Sabo didn’t say it. Instead,he forced himself to stand still and keep his expression open,letting Ace see all the barrel-bottomhonesty Sabo was still capable of.

Ace’s fingers grazed the compass still strapped to Sabo’s wrist, and his glare began to falter.

“Ace,”Sabo said, dropping his voice low, “look—”

“Ooh,that smarts. You little bitch.”

Aceand Sabo’s head snapped toward the corpse—or, what should’vebeen a corpse—in twin,dread-filled tandem as themasked pirate sat up. Bullets, bentand blood-stained, scattered to the floor.

“Seenow I’m gonna kill your little friend too,” the piratecackled, fully and impossibly alive despite his centerof mass riddled with bullet holes.

Downstairsand not-so-distantly, the partygoers began to scream.

[supernatural-firstwatch]

Season 8 Episode 6: Southern Comfort

- URGH! People underneath cars always make me nervous in SPN. And that right there is why! Woman just... somehow kicked the supports holding the car up and it crashed right on top of the guy! I’m pretty sure that’s not usually something a person can do... and now she’s running him over... Riiiiiight....

- Well Dean. You really don’t see how much of a hypocrite you’re being. And I’m sorry, but stop holding it over Sam’s head that he decided to stop hunting for a year! Over the past seasons, Sam lost Dean to Hell, then got addicted to demon blood, then had to dodge Lucifer’s disgusting little grabby hands, then had to regain control of his body from Lucifer, then spent OVER A YEAR (so about 120-180 years) locked in a cage with Lucifer and Michael, then spent the next few months with a wall in his head while memories of the cage pounded in his skull, THEN spent almost a year dealing with hallucinations of Hell and Lucifer and having to inflict himself pain to banish the hallucinations, then nearly died from lack of sleep because Lucifer wouldn’t shut the fuck up, and then he literally lost everyone who he ever loved and was totally, 100% alone for the first time in his life. SO YES! THE BOY FUCKING NEEDED A YEAR OFF!!! I’M SORRY YOU WERE STUCK IN PURGATORY, DEAN! IT SUCKS ALL SORTS OF ASS! BUT FOR FUCK’S SAKE YOU WOULDN’T HAVE DONE MUCH BETTER IN SAM’S SHOES! Because the last time HE died, you fucking MADE A DEAL WITH A DEMON! And you still had Bobby with you when that happened!

- “Because Sam, Kevin’s in the wind, okay? You’re sulking around like a eunuch in a whorehouse, and I can’t help but ask myself when is decapitation not my thing?” That’s nice, Dean.

- OMG GARTH! STOP! PLEASE STOP! HAHAHAH!!! “Texas Ranger, Garth? Seriously? We’re in Missouri.” LOL! Sam: “Hold up. Are you the new Bobby?” Dean: *to Sam* “You shut your mouth.” Garth: “Yes.” Dean: *to Garth* You shut your mouth.

- EW GARTH!!! YOU JUST PUT THE GREEN GUNK IN YOUR MOUTH! AND LICKED IT! Just to check if it was ectoplasm. That’s so gross. OMG Garth nearly losing it at the hospital when the widow says “Bits and pieces.” 

- Oh Dean, always with the food. So, Dean neatly avoiding the subject of how he got out of Purgatory, which Sam is highly interested in hearing. And Garth was a dentist? And his first gank was the tooth fairy?? Is the tooth fairy a bad monster? I mean, are there good monsters in SPN? And Garth changing the subject to the food. And thank you for the informative discussion about the Civil War. Because that’s not giant foreshadowing. 

- OH SHIT! THE SON’S GOT BLACK GOOP COMING OUT OF HIS EARS! OH SHIT! IS IT ONE OF THOSE THINGS THE BOYS RAN INTO WITH RUFUS AND SAMUEL Sr. BACK WITH EVE??? WOAH! NO!!!! IT’S A CIVIL WAR SOLDIER!!!! 

- HAHAHAHA!!! “So , first the mom goes “natural born killer,” and now the son? Well, what do we got-- a ghost with an oedipus complex?” *Sam looks at Dean with raised eyebrows* “I don’t know what that means.” LOL! No, you clearly don’t Dean, seeing as you used that term incorrectly.

- AWH DEAN!!! “That’s not how you wear it.” (about bobby’s hat). He said the same thing when Garth said “Balls.”

- Awh, poor Amelia. She lost her hubby in Afghanistan :( I find it amazing that Dean has no desire or curiosity about her. 

- Dean... Ok, Garth has to stop using all of Bobby’s mannerisms cause he’s not Bobby. And man, Dean could really use Bobby right about now to knock him upside the head. There it is! Garth finally crossed that line. “You’re not Bobby, okay? You’re never gonna be Bobby, so stop!” Awh, Garth, yah, Bobby was deeply ingrained in the hunting community, but he was practically a father to Sam and Dean, and that’s just a different bond. 

- Of course Garth would take part of Civil War re-enactments. That’s... very fitting for his character. LOOOL!!!! SAM!!!! “Burn a confederate soldier’s bones in a town full of rednecks? Suuuure!!!” 

- Why are you going to say something? Give the ghost time to show up to fuck you up? OMG DEAN! “We won.” Well, except that there’s like 17 minutes left to the episode so clearly this wasn’t it.

- Oh shit! Is it the car keys or the inhaler that’s carrying the ghost? 

- OMG!!! I wonder how many takes they had to do for “Tell me what happened after you shot the sheriff.” Awh, man. Another deputy is going to the hospital! NOT GOOD! OH SHIT! Dean’s got the penny now!!! Well, Sam and Dean are about to have it out. That’s what that cut string was that Sam found on the floor.

- There we go. “You should have looked for me when I was in Purgatory.” “Come on, Dean. I know it’s not you in there pulling the strings.” “Shut up! You never even wanted this life. Always blamed me for pulling you back into it.” “That’s not true.” “Really? Cause everything you’ve ever done since you climbed into my ride has been to deceive me.” “What do you want me to say? That I’ve made mistakes? I’ve made mistakes, Dean.” “Mistakes? Well, let’s go through some of Sammy’s greatest hits. Drinking demon blood, check. Being in cahoots with Ruby. Not telling me that you lost your soul. Or how about running around with Samuel for a whole year, letting me think that you were dead while you were doing all kinds of crazy. Those aren’t mistakes, Sam. Those are choices!” “All right. You said it. We’ve both played a little fast and loose. Yeah, I might have lied, but I never once betrayed you. I never once left you to die. And for what, a girl? You left me to die for a girl?!” (hum, you did leave him for dead, while he was in the cage. convenient you forget that. also, how was he supposed to let you know he didn’t have a soul when, you know, he didn’t have a soul).

Ooooo~!!! “Benny’s been more of a brother to me this past year than you’ve ever been!” Sam’s face when Dean says that!  

- Garth is a pure soul with no beef to pick with anyone. Look at that cinnamon roll picking up that penny with no problemo. And he said the line correctly, with the anger and everything. “Stop being an idjit! With Bobby gone, you and Sam are all each other has.” AND HE SAID BALLS RIGHT, TOO! Except that no one can replace Bobby :( :(

Awh, Sam and Amelia got actually close because they started to talk about Dean and Don. And YAH SAM!!! Finally put a stop to Dean being high and mighty and just constantly putting him down. And hello foreshadowing! “I might just be that hunter that ices Benny.” “I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” “Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that.” I’m guessing Dean is going to have to pick between Sam and Benny, or something. 

[tsaritsa]

praise loudly, blame softly

this fic can also be found at ff.net or ao3

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

"I have seen three great monarchies brought down through their failure to separate personal indulgences from duty. You must not allow yourself to make similar mistakes. And while you mourn your father, you must also mourn someone else: Elizabeth Mustang. For she has now been replaced by another person, Elizabeth Regina. The two Elizabeth's will frequently be in conflict with one another. The fact is, the crown must win. Must always win."

The King was well-known for being a somewhat difficult man at the best of times, but on the day of his eldest daughter’s wedding Major Matthew Miles felt that the man was perhaps leaning into his ill-tempered persona a little too much.

“Is it too hard,” the older man fumed, wringing his hands in agitation, “to expect some sort of professionalism for crying out loud? It is my daughter’s wedding-”

“Right you are, sir,” Miles smoothly interrupted, taking the bowtie from the young butler (a new one, if his eyes weren’t deceiving him) and folding it in his hands in the proper fashion, jerking his head towards the younger man to leave. “You must forgive us; we are all just as excited as you must be.”

Berthold eyed the Major carefully, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “Are you doing that Ishvallan thing where you say nice things to my face, but mean much ruder things in your words?” He blew the smoke out lazily, watching the tendrils dissipate into the air. “Well, Major?”

Miles blinked, nonplussed. “Of course not, your majesty. But if I may present you with a challenge…” Berthold snorted derisively.

“A sea captain’s young bride, fell into the bay at low tide...” Miles began, the barest of smirks pulling at his lips.  There was a pause, before the King sighed, and readjusted his position as Miles began to fasten the tie. “You could tell by her squeals,” he continued, “that some of the eels-”

He pulled back and nodded at the King. Berthold raised an eyebrow.

“-had discovered a dark place to hide.” Miles finished easily.

“You’re getting better, Miles,” Berthold replied, rubbing at his chin. “Let me see…ah – there once was a girl named Mariah, who succumbed to a lover’s desire.” He accepted the sash given to him by another butler, motioning for Miles to stay close by. “She said ‘it’s a sin! But now that it’s in’,”

A lewd smile grew on the King’s face. “‘Could you shove it a few inches higher?’”

Miles hid a smile behind a gloved hand. “Very good sir. I will have to think of a winning one for next time.”

Berthold nodded, stubbing out his cigarette on the ashtray next to him on the mantelpiece, running a hand over his hair. “Do you think they will notice?” he asked, turning back to Miles and gesturing at his face.

“Does Your Majesty require more rouge?” an elderly butler asked, but Miles held up his hand, waving the man off.

“There are hot water bottles in the carriage for when you leave, which should do more than enough for your complexion. As soon as you are seated in the church nobody will pay you much attention, I confess,” Miles admitted.

Berthold smiled weakly. “But you don’t think-”

“I wouldn’t wish to overdo it, sir. It is cold today. I think I’d be more worried for the princesses – I do not imagine they have the luxury of long johns like we do.”

The King laughed loudly, before coughing violently, gripping the back of the nearest chair as he bent over. There were a few moments of laboured breathing before he righted himself, moving the handkerchief away from his mouth – it was speckled with red, Miles noted uneasily. The wedding had been on everyone’s nerves, both inside and outside the palace: aside from the stigma Mustang brought over from his family based in Southern Xing, the amount of planning and preparing that had gone into this event meant that mistakes would not and could not be tolerated.

This was the first real test for the family – for Berthold’s family. The scandal that had arisen from Zolf’s sudden abdication and the much quieter scandal that they had managed to keep almost entirely under wraps meant that they were being closely scrutinised, not only by their populace but by neighbouring nations. A transition like that was never meant to go peacefully – any sign of weakness in the family today would be torn apart for clues and signs of discord.

The door swung open suddenly, and Rebecca practically floated in, ignoring the sudden exclamations form the butlers hovering around the room.

“Papa!” she exclaimed, skipping over to him, a wide smile on her face as she balanced a cigarette in-between fingers tightly clenching a near-empty flute of champagne. “You look very handsome.” She draped her free hand over her father’s shoulders and inclined her head at Miles, still smiling broadly. “Don’t you think so, Major?”

Miles bit down a smile and nodded. “Of course he does, Princess. I cannot imagine a prouder father.”

Something flickered in Rebecca’s expression, before she turned to face her father properly, deftly handing her glass and cigarette to a maid as she straightened his collar.

“You must look perfect for Riza,” she murmured under her breath, the grin still sitting brightly on her face. Her dark hair had been tamed into a tight coif, with baby’s breath surrounding her head like a halo. She had changed into her bridesmaid dress: it was a simple design, accented with floral motifs from each district in the delicate lacing surrounding her bodice. It wasn’t entirely suited to her – most certainly to Elizabeth, to be sure – but Miles felt that perhaps even old sibling rivalries couldn’t be laid to rest for the sake of each other.

Miles stepped back to allow the King and his younger daughter some privacy to talk, catching Rebecca’s eyes for a moment before another butler began to whisper furiously in his ear about an incident downstairs involving the groom’s party. Miles sighed inwardly, before gesturing for the man to lead the way.

He was going to need a drink after all this.

She could already hear the roars and screams from the crowd that had assembled outside the palace – a quick peek through the curtains confirmed just as much: the crowd was a sea of green and gold outside, as far as her eyes could see. All waiting for her.

Riza didn’t do well with stress of any kind. She never had – as a child she had always been the more reserved of her and her sister – Becca had always shone under the spotlight, practically lived for it. Becca had the flair for the dramatics that lent her a particular kind of gravitas that Riza could only wish for. No amount of practice would ever fully prepare her for talking with people who may have well been strangers in any other situation: but for some reason being a princess meant that everyone talked to her with the air of an old friend, with the assumption that they knew her intimately.

They did not.

Though she didn’t quite share her father’s hatred of public speaking – provided she actually understood the topic and felt keenly about it, Riza certainly felt she could be very compelling; but the fact still remained that such a significant moment in her life was going to be watched by people of whom she had never met before and was unlikely ever to in future. It didn’t sit well with her that her marriage to Roy Mustang – and she was still shrieking a little inside that she was going to marry that beautiful, idiotic man and he would be all hers – would be shared with people and countries beyond her reach.

It was a moment meant for them, and them alone. Not fifty million others.

She turned from where she hovered by the curtains, her hands running over the lace of her dress as she paced the room. She was grateful her mother wasn’t here, instead someplace else undoubtedly trying to reign in a younger sister that had already helped herself to too much brandy at breakfast, because Riza didn’t think she could listen to her prattling right now. She was a mess of emotions, but terror was the overarching one. What if she mucked up her vows partway through? What if he decided he didn’t want to go through with it, and just left her standing at the altar? What if-

“You’re going to wear a hole into that carpet if you’re not careful,” a familiar voice said behind her. She whirled around, hands flying to her mouth as she realised who had walked in.

“Roy, what are you doing-”

He smirked and held a finger up to his lips ducking his head out the doorway for a moment before carefully closing the door with a slight click.

“You can’t just-”

It only took him three quick strides to gather her up in a bruising kiss, his warm hands cupping her face and sending shivers down her spine as his thumbs rubbed over her pale cheeks. Riza sighed into the kiss, allowing herself to wrap her arms around his neck and draw him closer to her – as much as her dress would let her. He was a much-needed reprieve from the emotions churning inside her, and though she knew she wasn’t meant to be seeing him until the ceremony – the old superstitions surrounding the traditions of weddings niggled at the back of her mind – but there wasn’t anybody else she would be genuinely happy to see in this moment. Her father never had the right words at the right time, her mother had far too many, and Becca – well, judging by the amount of brandy that was missing from the decanter at breakfast, Riza supposed that her younger sister wouldn’t be capable of much coherency anyway.

Roy treated her like a normal woman. Like a human. Too many people were always trying to touch her, to talk to her like they had any right and Zolf had –

She stopped that thought in its tracks, pulling back her shoulders slightly and standing straight, steadfastly ignoring the prickle travelling across her back. Now was not the time to dwell on a man who was a good as dead to the family.

Roy pulled back and inspected her, a soft smile on his face. “Much better,” he said lowly, carefully rearranging her fringe. “Now you have some colour to your cheeks.”

Her hands flew to her cheeks and she groaned, turning towards the full-length mirror on the opposite side of the small room. Roy laughed, a hand drifting down to rest on her waist, his fingers rubbing against the satin of her bodice reassuringly. “Did you have enough to eat this morning?” he asked quietly, shifting her hair aside to drop a kiss on her back, at the top of the mottled skin. She shivered slightly at the touch – not unwelcome, but she always marvelled at Roy’s capacity to love without any kind of hesitation.

“I had some toast,” she answered, closing her eyes and leaning back into his touch for a moment, focusing on her breathing. “I’ll be able to eat once this is all over – this dress, I swear to-.”

Roy snorted harshly. “We’ll all be happier once this is over. I saw your sister on my way here – is she-”

“Yes,” she interrupted tiredly, turning so she could face him properly. Up close, she could see the signs of stress on his face – he certainly could hide it better than she ever would, but it made her feel a little better to know that she wasn’t the only one stressing out about this. Her fingers brushed along his brow bone and she stretched onto her tiptoes to kiss him softly. “We’ll deal with her later – well, somebody will. We have more important things to do.”

“Like getting married,” he murmured, the joy obvious in his voice.

“Like getting married,” she repeated, unable to keep the broad smile off her face.

He kissed her once more, and Riza let herself smile widely, giggling against his mouth as he peppered her face with kisses that were more ticklish than soothing: she batted his hands away, grasping them tightly as she tried to fight him off.

“You’re the worst-”

“You like it,” he reminded her playfully, smirking as she tried to push his arms back to his side. She was too restrained in this dress; normally Roy wouldn’t underestimate her in any kind of fight, whether verbal or physical, but seeing her struggle in this strange, made-up way was far too entertaining.

He relaxed his arms and let her adjust herself and smooth down the dress quickly. She smiled at him nervously, eyes bright. “You should- you should go,” she said hesitantly, twisting her fingers together. Roy inclined his head.

“Are you-”

“I’m fine!” she replied quickly. “Just – you know how I am with crowds, and-”

Roy nodded, reaching to adjust the pearl necklace she was wearing – a gift from him early on in their courtship. Though it was easy enough to transmute mother-of-pearl, this necklace had been created in the traditional fashion (Roy claimed he had hand-harvested each and every pearl – Riza thought he was full of it).

The gifts didn’t matter to her – she had more than enough wealth simply from her own savings, not to mention the coffers that were made available to her if she so wished: but no amount of money could buy what she craved – privacy, quiet, boundaries.

He was the first person that didn’t immediately treat her like an old friend, like he was privy to her secrets and affections. It was a startlingly refreshing change from the other suitors her mother had been coaxing over: for once in her life she was able to savour the ability to say, ‘call me Riza’ of her own volition. The way he had breathed it hadn’t helped her either – like a prayer, like she was sacred. The subsequent kiss had sealed her fate: beyond the intoxicating feeling of him under her fingers, beyond the warmth that had burned like fire on her lips, there was a man who she was already half in love with, by the mere fact that he didn’t presume.

She wrung her hands slightly, trying to ease the nerves she could feel building once more. “Honestly though – you shouldn’t be here, where is Maes-”

“Maes may or may not be causing one hell of a distraction for me,” he quipped, rolling on the balls of his heels. “My time is probably up, anyway. I’ll-” He paused, cocking his head to the side before rubbing a thumb over her bottom lip – Riza tried her best not to close her eyes as a wave of pleasure brushed over her. He was addictive, a trait that had reared its ugly head in the last few weeks. She couldn’t remember the last time she had time to properly enjoy the time she spent with him. In the days following the announcement of their engagement her grandfather had warned her that they days spent shrouded in secrecy were long behind them – Riza was only just beginning to appreciate the few stolen nights she had managed in the last month alone. She worried for him, sometimes; his marrying into this family was far more taxing for him than it would ever be for her, and yet he barely seemed to notice as more duties and responsibilities were thrust upon him.

All for her.

“Now you look presentable,” he said softly, squeezing her hand tightly. “All prim and proper for the people.”

She bit her lip, nodding. “I’ll be glad when all of this is over,” she admitted, running her thumbs over the fingers grasping her hands. She could feel the heat from his body from where she stood, apart from him, and part of her desperately wished this whole affair could be over and done with without the pomp and circumstance. She was just so tired.

“Me too,” he replied, dropping a final, soft kiss on her cheek before ducking out the room, quietly shutting the door behind him. She could hear Maes beyond the wood, chastising her fiancé for taking so long.

“That butler was onto me, I swear if you-”

“You look fine, so obviously you weren’t caught-”

“You won’t be so lucky – you’ve got lipstick all over you, idiot.”

[jarmes]

Birdcage Chapter XVIII

Masterpost -  Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Princess, or: the cage in the sky

The four of us climbed the winding spiral staircase of the tower, inching towards our new mission. “Are we close to the top yet?” Cas asked.

“I’d say we’re about halfway up,” Cross replied, eliciting a flurry of groans.

“Why is the stupid tower so high?” Pollux asked.

“To keep the princess safe from those who wish to harm her,” Cross said.

“Oh, I get it. It’s such a pain in the ass climbing these stairs that no kidnapper would dream of touching the princess,” Pollux said.

“Your complaints accomplish nothing,” Cross said. “Shut up and climb.”

We shut up and climbed. Eventually, we made it to the top of the tower. A metal door covered in locks sat atop the tower, a replacement for the wooden one Eric broke. A gate covered a small opening at the top of the door.

When I saw the door, it looked less like the door to a royals bedroom and more like the door to a cage. Reynolds stood in front of the locked door, arms crossed. “You’re late,” she snapped.

“The staircase took a bit longer to climb than we anticipated,” Cross said. He glanced at the twins, who were collapsed on the ground from exhaustion. “We can take over now.”

Reynolds kept her place in front of the door. “The princess is very important to his majesty. Under no circumstances shall harm come to her. Understood?” she said.

“Understood,” Cross replied.

“The princess is given food and water twice a day, brought up from the kitchen on the first floor of the palace. You pass this to her through this slot,” Reynolds said while gesturing to the grate on the door. “The previous guards kept a bench up here so they could rest during their shifts. I threw it down the stairs; I want you to be alert at all times.”

“That sounds great,” Pollux snarked.

“This door contains five locks. Each of you will be given a key, with the extra key going to Captain Cross. This door is to be opened only in the event of an emergency. At least two of you are to stay here at all times. To reiterate, if anything is to happen to-”

“We get it, Raia,” Cross said. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Can we open the door and meet the princess?” Cas asked.

Reynolds narrowed her eyes. “Why?” she asked.

“I mean, we’re going to be guarding her. It’d be nice to introduce ourselves, get a rapport going, that kind of thing.”

“Your job is to ensure the safety of this girl, not to befriend her,” Reynolds said. “I’d recommend keeping contact with her to a minimum. Personal connections will interfere with your ability to do your job properly.”

A faint melody drifted out from beyond the locked door and into my ears. “What is that?” I asked.

“A few years ago his majesty decided the princess should learn to play his favorite musical instrument: the piano,” Raia said.

“I feel bad for the guy who had to carry that thing up all those steps,” Pollux said.

“The princess often plays simple melodies to amuse yourself. I’d recommend ignoring it.”

“It’s beautiful,” I said.

“Personally, I find it to be grating.”

Suddenly, the music stopped. The scream of a young girl echoed through the top of the tower. Each of us drew our weapons. Each of us but Reynolds, that is. Reynolds simply sighed and glanced through the grate on the door.

“That was a scream,” I shouted.

“Yes,” Reynolds said while slowly pulling a key ring from her belt.

“The princess, is she okay?” Cas asked.

“I glanced through the grate. The princess is fine.”

Cross ran over and looked through the grate. “She’s lying on the floor, clutching her chest!” he said.

“Correct,” Reynolds said while undoing the first of the locks.

“That means she’s hurt!” Cas shouted.

“No, it means she’s lying on the floor clutching her chest,” Reynolds said while undoing another lock. “There is one more thing you need to know if you are going to guard the princess.”

Reynolds undid the final lock. Cross, the twins, and I burst through the door into the princess’s bedroom, tripping over ourselves and landing in a pile in the process. We glanced up to see the princess sitting at a small table, holding a metal teapot and metal cups.

“The princess lies,” Reynolds said.

“Hello, would you like a cup of tea?” the princess asked.

She was young, the same age as my sister. She wore a white dress with flowing sleeves that covered her arms. Long silver hair, tied into braids, hung down over her dress. One braid was far shorter than the others, a remnant of her meeting with Eric. Her skin was pale, untouched by the light of the sun.

“The princess has a long history of deceiving and manipulating guards into bringing presents for her, or worse, unlocking the door built for her protection,” Reynolds said. “Like I said, personal connections with the princess will interfere with your ability to do your job.”

“You know what my favorite thing about you is, Raia? The ability you have to talk about me as if I’m not sitting here,” the princess said.

“We’re leaving,” Raia said as she walked towards the door.

“Can you at least stay for tea? Pretty please?”

“I’d personally like to stay for tea,” Cas said.

“That’s great! We can have a wonderful tea party, just the two of us! And you know what the best part is? Mean old Raia isn’t invited.”

“I’m twenty-six,” Reynolds muttered.

“Reynolds, I don’t see any harm in us staying for just a moment,” Cross said.

Reynolds gritted her teeth. “Fine, but afterward you are to keep the door closed and locked at all times, understood?” she said.

Cross nodded. The four of us sat down on our knees by the small table. As the princess poured our four cups of tea, I glanced around the room. A bed sat against one wall of the room, covered in stuffed animals. A piano and bench sat by the other wall. A small bookshelf, covered in books with worn down covers, sat next to the piano. Across from the door, on the southern side of the room, lied a great window covered in metal bars.

“So, what are your names?” the princess asked.

“My name is Captain Cross-”

“No, it isn’t. That’s your soldier name. What’s your real name, the one your friends call you?”

Cross paused for a moment. “Calvin. The boys with me are Castor, Pollux, and Ernest,” he said, pointing at each of us as he said our names.

I took a sip of my tea and immediately gagged. I’d expected it to be like the tea the King served me, so hot that it burned every part of my digestive system. Instead, it was cold and thick.

“Sorry about the tea, Raia doesn’t let me have anything that I can use to make a fire up here,” the princess said.

“It’s fine,” I said, holding back my disgust. Cross and the twins put their cups down before taking a single sip. “That music you were playing earlier, it was very pretty.”

“Thank you. I learned it from a bird,” the princess said.

“A bird?”

“Sometimes songbirds perch outside the window. I learn from them.”

I glanced over to the window. “You must be able to see pretty far from that window.”

“Oh yes, I can see all of the kingdom from up here. Plains and forests, lakes and rivers, villages and wilderness, countless places I wish I could explore,” the princess said. She forced a smile. “Sometimes, before my father added the bars, birds would fly in and soar around my room. I’d give them names, pretend they were my friends.”

“Those bars, were those added after Eric tried to kidnap you?” Pollux asked.

“He didn’t try to kidnap me, he just wanted a sample of my blood.”

“Okay, were the bars added after Eric tried to take your blood?”

“No, they’ve been here forever. It’s a funny story, really. When I was younger, I told my father I wished I could be like a bird, and fly out that window to see the world. He, uh, didn’t interpret that very well and ordered the knights to put the bars up. They actually replaced them after Eric’s visit, so they’d be tighter.”

“Don’t worry, princess. We’ll make sure Eric never bothers you again!” Cas said.

The princess frowned. “That’s nice of you, I suppose,” she said.

“You don’t seem happy about that,” I said.

“No, it’s fine. It’s just, I was looking forward to Eric coming back, as strange as it sounds.”

“That’s crazy. Eric’s a pretty bad dude,” Cas said.

“I suppose he is,” the princess muttered.

“Princess, would you mind explaining why you pretended to be hurt earlier?” Cross interjected. The princess didn’t respond. “You must have heard our conversation with Reynolds, and known that she wasn’t going to let come in. Princess, did you scream to force us to open the door?”

“Does it matter?”

Cross sighed. “It must be very lonely, being locked away in this tower for so long. Your father made this choice for your safety, but I don’t think he thought about how it would make you feel,” he said.

“I’d be wary when talking about the king like that,” Reynolds shouted from the doorway.

The princess slammed the teapot down on the table. “No talking from people who aren’t part of the tea party!” she shouted.

“Eric is one of the only people you’ve spoken to in the past ten years, and the only one who isn’t your father or a knight tasked with keeping you imprisoned. To you, he’s something intriguing, an escape from the dull life in this tower. I’d imagine he was kind to you when you met him. That kindness is a facade. Eric is a dark mage, the son of the man who killed your mother and countless others. When he comes back, and he will come back, you mustn’t let him take you.”

“He was nice to me,” the princess muttered.

“Okay, this has gone on long enough,” Reynolds said as she charged into the bedroom. “This tea party, if you can call it that, is over.”

Reynolds drug us out of the princess’s room. The princess waved goodbye as we walked away. “Let’s talk again soon!” she said.

Reynolds slammed the door close. “I despise that girl,” Reynolds mumbled. “Manipulative little brat.”

“She’s a child, Raia. A child who has been put in a miserable position,” Cross said.

“You fell for that, didn’t you? The sob story about her wanting to be free, to endanger herself and this country our of childish whimsy? You aren’t the first. In the past, she has tricked ten different Knights into betraying their country and opening that door, knights I hand-picked because I believed they were strong enough to resist temptation. I suppose you’ll be number eleven, Calvin? You always were sentimental.”

“Do you really think locking her away like this is a good idea? For crying out loud, she’s so deprived of human contact that she’s willing to let Eric Darkholme kidnap her if it means leaving this tower. Isolating her like this, forbidding us from speaking to her, it’s cruelty.”

“This wasn’t my decision though, was it? It was her father’s decision. If you have a problem with how he raises his daughter, say it to his face.”

Reynolds tossed the keys to Cross and walked away. “One last thing,” she said as she disappeared from sight, “Don’t give her any sharp objects.”

---

“If you could eat all of the food you needed to eat for the rest of your life in one sitting, would you do it?” Cas asked.

“I’m not sure I understand the question,” his brother replied.

The three of us were sitting outside the princess’s door. Captain Cross had gone down to the kitchen to get her dinner. “Okay, imagine that there’s a giant table in front of you with all of the food you’re destined to eat,” Cas said. “Would you eat it?”

“It isn’t a question of if I would, I couldn’t eat that much food,” Pollux said.

“Your stomach is bottomless.”

“So, I’d get really fat, is what you’re implying,” Pollux said

“Also, wouldn’t the food get cold and nasty before you finished it?” I added.

“And your mouth muscles would get really tired, to the point where you wouldn’t be able to eat any more,” Pollux said.

“Also, would I still have to make food? If I picked up an apple, would it be transported back in time to this table?” I said.

“You guys are missing the spirit of the question! You don’t get full, you don’t get fat, you don’t get tired, the food doesn’t go bad. You eat now, you don’t ever have to eat again. Do you eat?”

“No,” Pollux said.

“What? Come on, think of all the time it would save!” Cas said.

“What time? Eating that much would take dozens of hours,” Pollux said.

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t have to eat ever again, so it’d save time in the long run.”

“It would take literally the exact same amount of time. The only difference is this way is disgusting.”

“I’m also going to say no,” I said. “I like cooking too much.”

“I’m going to say no, but not for the reason you think,” a voice said. We turned to see the princess looking at us from behind the grate.

“Why are you going to shoot down my wonderful idea?” Cas asked.

“People eat a relatively stable amount in a day. There is some variance, but not to the point where you wouldn’t be able to estimate how many days of food would be on that table,” the princess said. “This question isn’t about whether or not you’d like to eat like a pig, it’s about whether or not you’d like to know how long you have to live.”

Cas gulped. “I, uh, didn’t think of that,” he said.

“Imagine saying yes and seeing only a single apple on the table,” the princess said.

We all laughed at this morbid idea. “So, is this what you guys do all day? Stand around discussing unlikely hypotheticals?” the princess asked.

“I mean, we sometimes fight monsters. But yes, we mostly stand around doing nothing,” Cas said.

“Sounds wonderful,” the princess said.

“It isn’t really that special. We’re just doing what friends normally do,” Cas said.

“I’ve never had friends.”

“Oh, right.” Cas’s face turned red. “Tell you what, why don’t we be friends?”

“I thought Raia told you that you shouldn’t get close to me?”

“I may be speaking out of turn for saying this, and if I am I’m so sorry, but Raia’s an asshole,” Pollux said.

The princess laughed. “What do you do all day?” I asked.

“Watch the birds, play piano, pretend to have friends, that sort of thing.”

“I saw a bookshelf in your room, do you read a lot?” Cas asked.

“I used to, but I’ve read all them so many times I know them by heart,” the princess said. “There’s a library on the second floor of the palace that I’d love to go to, but I’m not allowed to leave my room.”

Cas grabbed Pollux and me by the shoulders and pulled us into a huddle. “Okay guys, I have a plan,” he said. “We need to get our new friend to this library asap.”

Pollux groaned. “Two minutes. She talked to you for two minutes and you already want to let her out,” he said.

“We aren’t going to leave the palace and we’ll be with her the whole time. Don’t think of it as letting her out of her room, think of it as moving her room.”

“We’ll get in trouble if we get caught,” I said.

“So?” Cas said. He pulled his key out of his pocket and stuck it in the lock.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Cross said. We turned to see him standing a few steps down from us, holding a tray full of food.

“Definitely not taking the princess to the library, sir,” Cas said.

Cross looked cross. “Okay, maybe we are, but only for a little bit so she can get some new books,” Cas said.

“What do you mean we?” Pollux said.

“Pollux, go to the library and get some books for the princess. Castor, give me your key. You clearly can’t be trusted with it,” Cross said.

Cas looked back into the grate and mouthed the word sorry.

---

One morning, Captain Cross helped the King up the spiral staircase to the princess’s room. Before long, Cross was forced to carry the older man over his shoulders. “Sorry about the inconvenience, Calvin. My legs aren’t quite what they used to be,” the King said.

“Think nothing of it, my liege,” Cross said, sweat pouring from his face.

The twins and I bowed as Cross carried the King up the final set of stairs. “At ease,” the King said as Cross sat him down. Cross collapsed by a wall and caught his breath. “Would you mind opening that door? I’d like to spend some time with my daughter.”

Cross tossed me his keys. Pollux and I opened the five locks and let the King into the bedroom. The princess hugged him as he stepped through the doorway. The two sat and talked for hours, the King telling story after story of the young girl’s mother. As the afternoon wound down, the princess began to play a song she wrote on the old piano. The king sat and smiled.

“You must be proud,” I said.

“I am,” the king said.

Then he noticed it, the stack of books Pollux had brought up from the library. He frowned. “Those aren’t your regular reading material,” he said.

The princess stopped playing. “Captain Cross got those for me,” she said quietly.

The king walked over and opened the pile. “Calvin, in the future I’d appreciate it if you asked me before bringing things to my daughter,” he said.

“I didn’t think it would be an issue, your majesty,” Cross said. “They’re just books.”

“Books can be dangerous, Calvin. Books can inspire unsafe ideas. Have your men take them down to my office, so I may read them and decide if they are appropriate for my daughter.”

The look the princess gave Cross at that moment haunted me for years. Without a word, she begged, through eyes barely holding back tears. Cross sighed. “Yes, your majesty. I get on that,” he said.

The princess hid in the corner of her room and cried after her father left.

---

“Pull harder,” Pollux said.

“Oh, shut up, I’m the one doing all the work,” I shouted back.

It was the morning after the King visited daughter. The four of us stood in the princess’s room, our arms wrapped around the bars on her window, pulling as hard as we could. “Why are you doing this?” the princess asked.

“Because I’m sentimental,” Cross muttered.

The bars gave way and the four of us fell over, landing in a big heap. Cross climbed to his feet and wiped the dust off his armor. “The King usually tells us in advance when he comes to visit, so we’ll be able to reattach the bars before he sees them,” Cross said. “This afternoon I’ll send one of the boys down to grab some new books for you.”

“You’ll be in big trouble if my father finds out.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

The princess walked over to the window and pushed it open. For the first time in years, she felt the breeze. A bird flew through the window and landed on her hand. “Thank you,” she said, tears of joy running down her face.

[calvinphilip22-blog]

The 8 Most Engrossing Los Angeles 80′s Tribute Bands

Los Angeles is best known for its entertainment in the whole world.

As the capital of the tribute bands in the USA nobody can cast doubt on its potential and great talent. A large number of these tribute bands started as mere side ventures of local artists which eventually turned out as fully equipped entities in the music industry. The list of tribute bands in Los Angeles is endless and it is not easy to spot the best. For the lovers of the 80's music, here is a rank of the best of bands worth a live performance check. This band mimics the 80's celebrities like George Michael and Billy Idol in its performances.

It creates a special mood of festivities when playing the music of some famous 80's groups such as Police and The Cure. In addition, it provides its own emcees and DJs making it ideal for weddings and dinner parties. This band rocks by touring all over America making tributes of the 80's era music. Stones fans are willing to bet that this is the kind of band that surpasses Hollywood standards. Knyght Ryder has this energetic wave when it comes to playing the most favorite 1980's hits. Its die-hard fans are never tired of its most thrilling Friday night performances. This band performs in a humorous mode.

It has the most audacious characters you will ever find in a music group. This was the very first tribute band to play indie rock music. It is such an amazing performer for those who love independent record labels. Actually, it was intentionally created in order to eliminate the discrimination against indie rock. This group from Southern California is best known for rolling in the 80's Rock music. Its music endowments and professionalism in the execution of the performances are acclaimed. For any type of event, the Radio Rebels will elevate the audience mood to peak levels. It is a band that takes pride in playing the current hit songs and the favorite 80's hits back to back. What could be more fascinating than bringing the past and present themes in a play? It is one of the most passionate Los Angeles 80's tribute band that turns any celebration into a turmoil. Its energy aims to shake an audience with the delivery of the most celebrated hit songs.

Updated on January 24, 2018 Ara Vahanian moreAra is currently an Accounting student at Glendale Community College in Glendale. CA. His main goal in life is the enjoyment of it. Angela Gossow is one of those vocalists in the music business that will leave many fans in awe because of her ability to growl so effectively and do a death metal voice just like a man! Wages of Sin obviously continues with Michael Amott and Christopher Amott playing the guitars. Joining them for this album is drummer Daniel Erlandsson and bassist Sharlee D' Angelo of the thrash metal band Witchery.

One of the biggest highlights and the best songs in the album is Ravenous. The harmony parts played by brothers Michael and Christopher Amott are so brilliant that there are no words left to describe them. The song is about a blood sucking creature, probably a vampire that is out to get human blood. The solo near the end of the song is excellent as well! Savage Messiah sounds like a slower song by the British grindcore band Carcass along with an older Arch Enemy influenced song. The melody then kicks in. I also see some Metallica style guitar playing later in the song. Does anyone remember Phantom Lord? I’m sure you do and kudos to James Hetfield and company for influencing so many bands.

The next song Dead Bury Their Dead is about someone that is ready to leave their past anguishes behind and live a brand new life. I may be ready to do the same. It is still early in 2017 so it is not too late for us to turn over a leaf and get a fresh start in our lives. The song has a guitar part that is similar to the early days of the band Death. Web of Lies is about exactly as the song title implies. Living a life of lies and deceit is a path that will lead us crashing down into the lowest depths of our being. Lying and deceiving is going to lead people and world leaders into lots of trouble eventually.

If people cannot trust you, then you will not be successful. There’s a reason why they say that cheaters never win. In the end, GOD judges all of us. We must lead a path of honesty and good morals. The First Deadly Sin turns to a fast song first and the guitar picking reminds me of a more modern version of the song Reaction written by Annihilator guitarist Jeff Waters. Behind the Smile is a song about a person that feels that as time slips by, they see their life just slipping away as they feel nothing. When the emotion of love dies down in a person’s life, we know what replaces that. The solo by Christopher is pretty melodic as well. Snow Bound is a short, soft instrumental song that really shows the immense talent of Arch Enemy.

Why did Angela Gossow leave Arch Enemy as their vocalist? In 2014, Gossow announced that she would be stepping down as Arch Enemy’s vocalist. Her then new job would be acting as the band’s manger behind the scenes. She gave her reasons for leaving Arch Enemy as the vocalist. Gossow revealed that she no longer had the same passion and joy to be doing the job and constantly being on the road and traveling. She would rather leave the position rather than stay there and pretend to like it. She has been active in the music business since 1991. Angela Gossow is one of my favorite death metal vocalists along with Tokiko Shimamoto of the band Shadow. Which one of these two former Arch Enemy vocalists do you think was the better one? Sign in or sign up and post using a HubPages Network account. 0 of 8192 characters usedPost CommentNo HTML is allowed in comments, but URLs will be hyperlinked. Comments are not for promoting your articles or other sites.

Are you a female vocalist with dreams of becoming a true Diva in the music industry? No doubt you already have a beautiful voice, but more is needed to have a "professional" quality to your music career. This article will explain why Aural skill development (AKA - Ear Training) must compliment your Vocal training. I will also show you how easy it has become for you to train your ear and improve your musical ability in just minutes a day! I remember watching an episode of American Idol where the contestants got to work with a big name vocalists. The professional singer was at a piano and would ask the contestants to match a note on the piano or to sing a higher or lower pitch. It was obvious that many of the contestants had no Aural skills training.

What the professional artist had that most of the contestants did not was an ear trained in pitch recognition. Think about it. How can you know what note to sing if you don't even know what key the musical composition is in? Without proper ear training, your music progress will always be limited. An ear trained in pitch recognition can identify the role of a single pitch in the context of an established keynote. By the way, if you didn't understand that last statement, then an ear training course will also deepen your understanding of musical theory as well. So how do you improve your Aural Skill? Fortunately for you, access to ear training has become easier than ever. You don't have to hire a music coach and you don't have to buy a cumbersome CD course. There is an ear training program that can be downloaded from the internet within minutes of reading this article. It is 100% guaranteed and totally risk-free! The resource link below will give you more information.

You would like an ABBA tribute but will your guests? Madness would be fun, but you can only remember a handful of hits. Queen tribute bands could be a good option, but maybe a bit too heavy for some people; and so the dilemma continues. With so many tribute bands to choose from which one do you book and would you want the same artiste all night long? Another question to ask before booking anything is whether the tribute artiste works with backing tracks or a real live band with drums, guitars and other instruments. So many people have jumped on the 'band wagon' (pardon the pun) and are simply solo singers with backing tracks and maybe some dancers thrown in to add to the numbers and justify the money they are charging. There are some great tribute bands out there on the market but again which do you choose? Well there is now an alternative option. Without having to break the bank, you can now have all of your favourite tribute bands in one evening with a multi-tribute band. This is basically one band that can offer an array of tribute bands to suit your exact requirements. That way everyone is happy.

There are tribute bands for many famous bands and singers. In many cases people will go see these bands not only because they like the music of the artist, but because tribute bands may be playing in more locations and because their tickets may be cheaper. The most popular bands tend to be the ones for which tribute bands form. Popular groups tend to have the most people playing their music so it makes sense that tribute bands would form. Consider a group of people who are all fans of a certain band who get together to play once a week. Using that other artist's music gives them something they're all familiar with to use as they develop their skills both individually and as a band.

Eventually they may decide they want to be a group but don't want to write their own songs, or decide they like playing the other band's songs and will do that. Some tribute groups focus just on the music while others will also copy the look. Tribute groups provide music that people are familiar with. If you are seeing a tribute group for your favorite band you will probably know most of the songs. Chances are high that you will be able to find a tribute group for the most popular bands of every music style. Tribute groups allow people to see the music of their favorite bands played live without having to wait for that band to come to town.

The band may be touring in another country or simply not even touring at the moment, but tribute bands might still be playing. Another reason people like to see them is because sometimes for certain bands and singers, ticket prices can get very expensive. You might want to see your favorite band but not want to pay expensive ticket prices. Those ticket prices can be expensive because the bands can bring in large crowds, but tribute bands obviously cannot have quite as expensive of ticket prices because they aren't the actual band themselves, so the prices are usually cheaper. However, the music and the experience can be just as good as the original. Remember that the tribute band is trying to recreate the music accurately so the people in the audience get the closest experience to the original as possible.

Arguably for some people, being a famous musician/rock star, would be a dream come true. However, whilst quite possibly one of the most exciting, the music business remains one of the most competitive in the world. Behind the glitz and glamour hides the stark reality that despite relentless hard work, as well as the pain and misery of those who fail, comes the plain truth that there is absolutely no guarantee of success. Trying to establish an original band and hopefully write hit songs, or even songs good enough to get a record deal, can be the hardest part of anyone aspiring to be a musician.

However, for the countless would be musicians, a possible solution exists, by forming a tribute band. Quite a lot of people have used this vehicle as a main income whilst they establish their own band. One of the biggest successes in this field is Bjorn Again, the ABBA tribute band, who have built up worldwide recognition. They are a popular favourite at many festivals around the world, attracting thousands of people. So which band to choose? Probably the obvious choice here relates to the type of music you prefer. Perhaps you have a varied taste in music, which would be ideal, as you can pick and choose.

Maybe you have a passion for heavy metal or boy bands, and would only be happy been the new Slipknot or Boyzone act. However, you may find that there are already a dozen available acts. Well unless you are absolutely hell bent on a particular style or band, the next obvious choice is to do some market research. Brainstorm a number of ideas to start with and do a Google search to see if there are already established acts. There are also a number of agents who represent tribute acts. In the UK for example Psycho Management and Entertainment UK are ones worth checking out. The Stage newspaper also lists a variety of agencies, to possibly contact for help and guidance.

As I'm sure you can imagine, there is no hard and fast way to go about this. Perhaps you are already friends with a group of musicians who share a common interest. Networking musicians from your home town or local area, is bound to provide you with likely candidates. If you are already a musician who doesn't have fixed ideas about what to play or who to form a band with, you could again consult publications such as The Stage and hopefully apply for vacant positions. The benefits of pursuing the music business in this way can be more beneficial than money alone. The musician taking this route, will provide an in demand service, but also have the opportunity to develop as a musician. Providing you choose an in demand act, you can save the months of relentless touring that an original band has to go through to build up a following. Ultimately, the experience that can be gained as a tribute artist would undoubtedly prove valuable for any aspiring original artist.

Yes, I know Robert Plant is cool. I know Elvis is the king, and I know Dean Martin can croon butter into a pool of delicious goodness. But for my money, there has never been a more technically adept, soulful, mind-bogglingly gifted vocalist than Boston's late front-man, Bradley Delp. If you don't believe me, dust off Boston's first album and check out nearly every cut. Mind you, this was before auto-tune and Pro-Tools recording software could make Daffy Duck sound like god. Every male vocalist, regardless of genre, should at least listen to the newly remastered 'More Than a Feeling', and try to nail every nuance of Delp's staggering performance. In the 35-plus years since his professional debut, Delp sang on nearly a dozen albums and projects with amazing anonymity despite phenomenal success. The Boston debut alone sold 17 million copies but Delp could still walk down the street and blend right into his neighborhood.

If you really want to get to the heart of what made Bradley Delp one of a handful of singers to come down the line, it comes down to tone,technical prowess and soul.

Think Floyd are coming back to where it all began: Hornchurch. To send a link to this page you must be logged in. Britain’s first Pink Floyd tribute band played their first professional theatre gig at the Queen’s Theatre Hornchurch and on Saturday 2nd March they’ll be returning for the first time in 14 years. The group started as a covers band playing in London in the early 90s, before tribute acts had been popularised. At a regular gig in a south east London pub, someone requested Comfortably Numb. They didn’t know how to play it but promised they would learn for next week. The performance went down very well and they began to get more requests for Pink Floyd songs.

One week they played a whole evening of Pink Floyd songs, calling it Think Floyd. It became a regular event. Music promoter and Pink Floyd fan David Walker saw them perform and signed them.

The semi-pro pub band became a professional music act. Pink Floyd’s Nick Mason was so impressed with Think Floyd that, in a 2017 LBC interview, he described the tribute band as "better than we are". Think Floyd didn’t even know he had seen them perform. Lewis Hall, the band’s bass player, says of Pink Floyd: "It’s just timeless music. The band members are attentive students of Pink Floyd. They pour over footage of the band’s original concerts to glean details for their own shows.

While there will not be an inflatable pig, the sounds and the lights are true to the spirit of Pink Floyd’s original performances. With the help of their sound engineer, Paul Jennings, the band tries to recreate the sound of the studio albums as closely as possible. For album effects that cannot be recreated live, they look to the live performances for inspiration. Other, bigger Pink Floyd tribute acts like Brit Floyd or The Australian Pink Floyd Show recreate the grandeur of Pink Floyd in the 90s, but watching Think Floyd is like seeing the original band in the 70s, says Lewis. All of Think Floyd’s original members have moved on or passed away but the band goes on with new blood. Each member is steeped in Pink Floyd.

Lewis recalls his older brother handing him Floyd albums as an 11-year-old child. Their guitarist, Richard Morse, is an especially big fan. He learned to play guitar practicing Pink Floyd songs. His performances of Dave Gilmour’s guitar solos are note-perfect. Alluding to the band’s enigmatic stage presence, Lewis says: "We’re lucky we don’t have to look like them. When you go to see a Rolling Stones tribute band, you expect to see them dancing like Mick Jagger.

Lewis first heard the band when he was working at the Key Theatre in Peterborough 18 years ago. They were looking for a bass player and he auditioned. He’s now been with the band for 18 years and is their longest serving member. As bassist and leader of the band, he compared his role to Roger Waters’s role in the original one. Fans have asked them to put out their own original music. Lewis confirms there’s plans in the works but fans may have to hold their breath. The tour honours the 40th anniversary of Pink Floyd’s timeless album The Wall. They will be playing the whole album from start to finish plus a good selection of classic hits.

Throughout the centuries women have been so many things and have meant so much to men in a variety of ways. Some look to them as mothers and protectors who provide care and shelter to us in our most vulnerable moments. Others would look to them as queens, goddesses and unattainable figures of beauty. While still others would view them with revulsion as seducers or the ultimate downfall of man-something to be curtailed and controlled rather than unleashed. But whatever we may think of women and whatever the stereotype may dictate, nothing quite inspires us men like women do. And these women are living examples of that fact. I'm quite sure that with the power of their voices they can send men either to heaven or the grave if they so wished it. The following are some of the most influential female vocalists of all time.

Janis Joplin: Back in her day, there was no bigger symbol of female rebellion than Janis Joplin. A professed ugly kid back when she was younger, her raspy voice would be the medium that would send some of the most liberating lyrics of her age to immortality. Unfortunately she passed away in 1970 at the age of 27: the same as Jim Morrison of The Doors, Kurt Cobain and several other great musicians. Bjork: This quirky Icelander is without a doubt one of the most unique singer-songwriters ever. By combining so many diverse styles into her music, she has become one of the most pioneering and avant-garde artists in the pop music scene. Her creativivty defies both time and genre. Diana Ross: According to the Guinness Book of World Records, she is the most successful female artist of the 20th century with 18 number one hit singles. This multiple award winning lady of incredible range also has two stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame: one for her solo efforts and one for her time as lead singer of the Supremes.

[projectmedusarp]

Welcome Kara! We’re pleased to announce your audition for Nova Sinclair / Pyrokinesis has been accepted! Please send an ask to the main from your account within the next 24 hours so we can set you up with the OOC blog. We can’t wait to have you join us!

{{ PLAYER INFORMATION }}

NAME: Kara

AGE: 26

TIMEZONE: EST (Eastern Standard Zone)

PRONOUNS: She / Her

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I’m normally pretty active during the day/night, but my schedule can be a bit unpredictable because I’m a nanny and the kids aren’t organized enough to tell me when they need rides ahead of time lol. So sometimes I have to randomly disappear to take them places. During the summer, I’m pretty much free after 1pm but for driving kids around (and I have most weekends off). During the school year, freedom comes roughly after 3:30 or so.

PREVIOUS ROLEPLAY EXPERIENCE: I’ve been RPing since I was eleven and on neopets so… god, like, fifteen years? Roughly six on tumblr.

PERSONAL TUMBLR CONTACT: Link Removed

TRIGGERS: Incest

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CHARACTER: Nova Sinclair

PRONOUNS: She / Her

AGE: 31

FACE CLAIM: Natalie Dormer

POWER: Pyrokinesis

QUOTE: “The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid.”

PERSONALITY:

Witty - Nova’s got a quick sense of humor and a snappy retort for pretty much any situation. She is a clever woman with a sharp mind and tends to use jokes as both defense and offense. It’s a talent that gets her far with her writing and it’s good in sales, as it tends to make people relax around her.

Affable - Nova is the agreeable sort with a talent for making people feel comfortable around her; it’s that old school southern charm. However, though it takes a hell of a lot to rile her up, she is not what anyone would call a pushover. Mostly she’s agreeable because she just doesn’t have the patience for conflict and avoids it if she can help it. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, after all (though she’s never really understood why anyone would want to catch flies).

Curious - Some call it nosy, Nova prefers curious. She likes to know things, likes to be involved. She likes to know about people and she likes to learn about a variety of topics. Of course, sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong has gotten her into trouble a time or two, no matter how hard she tries to avoid it. Some people don’t appreciate others poking into their business. Especially a writer who will (and has) used stories she hears in fiction.

Imaginative - Nova creates situations in her head and sometimes can conflate them into something worse than they are because she tends to imagine the worst possible outcome. It serves her well in her writing. Not so much in real life, however.

Ambitious - Nova has worked her way up from the bottom to the top, a true rags to riches story that she tends to keep to herself. She has always had big dreams and is good at getting what she wants. She isn’t above doing whatever has to be done to meet her goals.

Reserved - A lot of people let Nova’s friendly, cheerful front deceive them into thinking she’s easy to get to know. She isn’t. She’s secretive and not at all forthcoming about herself or her life. She doesn’t let people in easy and trust has to be fought for. She likes to keep herself to herself and it’s hard to get past the high walls of privacy she’s built to the person beyond it. Though Nova has plenty of acquaintances, there aren’t many she’d call friend and she prefers it that way.

Judgmental - Nova’s far from easy to impress and if you make one wrong move, she’ll judge you for it instantly. She’s got a strong sense of what she’ll tolerate and what she won’t and she tends to be quick to write people off when they cross it. Second chances aren’t her forte. Friendly, sure. Forgiving? Not so much.

BIOGRAPHY:

Nova was born in New Orleans and lived there with her single father until the age of ten, when he was killed in an accident on the construction site he was working on. Nova was left with very little and she didn’t much like foster care either. At around thirteen, she ditched her foster home and became a bit of a street urchin. Easy to get lost in a city the size of New Orleans, and that’s exactly what she did for a very long time. She mostly conned people out of their cash with a sweet smile and her big, bright eyes, asking for bus fare from strangers or a couple of bucks for lunch because “my daddy gave me some cash this morning, ma’am, but it must’ve fallen out of my pocket on the way to school.”

Ever since she was small, however, Nova had a quick and creative mind and she used it to her advantage. It meant that even on the streets, she had big dreams and a strong will, one that would get her on her way to the top. When she was sixteen, she lit out of New Orleans. She worked on a river boat for a time, sailed her way up to Memphis, then took a bus over to New York City. In Nova’s mind, that was the place to be when you had big ambitions and wanted any chance of making them come true.

With nothing but a backpack full of clothes, a battered notebook of scribbled stories, and forty-seven dollars in her pocket, Nova set up at a local shelter and breathed in the air of the big city. She liked it immediately, the brisk pace, the clipped northeastern accents, the way everyone minded their own business. It was exactly what she’d been looking for and Nova was gonna make it work for her.

It was in this shelter that she met Dotty Fisher, a middle-aged shelter worker who took a particular shine to Nova in her early days in New York. Nova liked her too, this woman with a kind smile who made her think of how a mother should be. Bit by bit, she began to trust Dotty, even let her read some of her stories. When Dotty came to her about the idea of getting her GED and trying to go to college, Nova enthusiastically set about doing it all and ended up graduating with honors a handful of years later. She got a job and a crappy little studio apartment and got to work soon after. She had much bigger fish to fry.

Nova’s first novel was published when she was twenty-five, a thrilling mystery that became a best selling novel. Following that success, Nova purchased a small bookstore, which she now runs while writing on the side. Since the first novel, she’s written two more, both hugely popular, though her preference for anonymity meant that she’d written all of them under a pen name.

Nova was quietly celebrating a movie deal in the works for her first novel when she drank the tonic water that would chance her life as she knew it. It was definitely a bit of a shock for someone whose life is spent surrounded by paper to discover she could manipulate fire – all she’d been thinking was how she wanted the fire in the fireplace to burn a little hotter, a little brighter, and suddenly the flames shot so high that they blackened the stone mantle – and she has been quietly and curiously testing her powers out since.

Alone, of course. With someone like Nova whose ear was always to the ground, it was impossible to miss the murmurs of disappearances plaguing the city…

HEADCANONS:

Sometimes when Nova is stuck on a particularly hard section of her writing, she’ll sketch out a scene to try and form a picture in her head. She has no real talent for drawing, however, so her desk is often littered with nonsensical stick figure drawings, most of which are only half finished.

Nova is a notorious pen chewer. It’s a habit she hates, but can’t seem to break. At least twice a pen has exploded in her mouth and her face has been stained with ink for days, but no matter what she tries, she can never get herself to stop.

Nova bought her own store instead of keeping her job at someone else’s because it means she can mostly set her own hours and doesn’t get in trouble if she’s a few minutes late getting back from lunch or if she shuts the doors a few minutes early. For this reason, there are no store hours posted on the store front and those who want to shop there kind of just have to get lucky about when they decide to go. Surprisingly, her most frequent shoppers tend to find this charming. She has one regular who acts unfailingly surprised any time he shows up and she’s actually open.

She’s a deep sleeper, the kind of person who likes sleeping in a freezing cold room with tons of blankets piled on top of her. She tends to keep late hours and wake up late, so the book store is never actually open before noon on any given day.

Nova is queer as a two dollar bill. It’s not something she flaunts, but it’s not something she hides either. She’s just always been more interested in and more comfortable with women. 

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION: Nothing currently (: