#scarlet welly boots

[sixpossumsinaclownsuit]

Me, self respecting: I would never be a groupie for some guy in a band I've never met, girls really throw themselves at rockstars and cry and scream to get to meet them? Have posters of them all over their room? How do you fall that in love with some guy who makes music—

Joey Batey from The Amazing Devil: (sings Old Witch Sleep and the Good Man Grace) (sings Inkpot Gods) (sings Rockrose and Thistle) (sings Welly Boots) (sings Fair)

Me, suddenly twirling my hair: obviously that doesn't apply to YOU, pookie, omg stawwwp...

[s-cordelia-mae]

Iykyk

[swampy-427]

i need music that gives the same emotion as welly boots by the amazing devil bc bro i cant.

[ye-olde-trojan-horse]

writing black brothers angst on a sunday afternoon? my new favourite pastime…

Being sorted into Gryffindor drove a knife through the beating heart of their relationship. Regulus ending up in Slytherin one year later, pulled that blade right back out. The wound still spills scarlet, slowly bleeding them both out.

from an unreleased black brothers fic I’ve started writing cause I’m insane and incapable of finishing / sticking to my current wips 😶‍🌫️

[cigarettesandinevitablebetrayal]

Raine Callaghan doesn't know what to make of Rebecca Sinclair most days. They had a good relationship once, but that was a long time ago. A death in the family will do that, he supposes.

Rated M for mature themes such as parental death, dysfunctional families, child neglect, implied violence, and minor mentions to the North Irish Troubles.

Other Tags: Kid Fic, Growing Up, Time Skips, Canon Divergence (Alternate Backstory), Tragedy, and Hopeful Ending.

Masterpost | AO3

Chapter 1: Even Though You Haven't Got a Clue

Callaghan Family Home, Belfast - 1981

The familiar rumble of an engine grows closer, the sound immediately recognizable. Ciaran's head snaps up, knowing exactly what car sounds like that, and almost drops the mixing bowl in his hands. Bishop is faster than he is and grabs ahold of the rim, gently pulling it from his fingers, and presses a kiss to the top of his head.

"Go on, Little Knight," she laughs. "And tell him he doesn't get to have cookie dough just 'cause he's early."

Ciaran doesn't bother waiting to respond. He runs from the kitchen, trailing loose flour behind him like fairy dust. He throws open the front door just in time to see Rook step from his car. He's cut his hair again, waves of black hair falling just short of his chin, just in time for the summer weather rolling in. He smiles brightly when his hazel eyes fall on Ciaran.

"Da!" Ciaran all but shrieks, throwing his arms around his father's legs and burying his face in the denim.

"Hello there, my little knight," Rook says back with a laugh, ruffling Ciaran's hair into an even worse rat’s nest.

Ciaran looks up at his father, smiling so wide it almost makes his face hurt, but he doesn't care. It's been too long since his father was home. Doing important work, he's reassured time and time again. But it doesn't matter. All that matters is he’s home again. "Aunt Bishop says you can't have any cookie dough."

"You and Bishop are making cookies?" Rook scoops Ciaran up, making him squeal in delight. "You shouldn't have told me. Now you'll never stop me."

He breaks out into a maniacal laugh and Ciaran tries to wiggle free of his father's arms. He has to warn Aunt Bishop. His attempts are in vain and Rook presses a kiss to his cheek with a smile and a joyful wrinkle of his nose.

The sound of the passenger door shutting draws Ciaran's attention. A little of his mirth falls as he watches Rebecca stand up, straightening her blouse as she does. Her strawberry blonde hair is pulled up in a high, tight bun. When her blue eyes meet Ciaran's hazel, she offers a short nod.

Ciaran doesn't know how to feel about Miss Rebecca. She's a friend of his dad's, sure, and Ciaran knows they love each other, but Ciaran isn't sure why. She always seems so strict. Stuck-up, Aunt Bishop has said before, though Ciaran isn't sure what she's stuck up for. Must be something bad the way Aunt Bishop says it. Ciaran gets the sense he makes her uncomfortable. The first time he'd met her, he had watched every part of her stiffen as though she were turning to stone every time he’d approached her.

Rook sets him back down on the ground, nudging his shoulder towards Rebecca as she makes her way around the car. Ciaran presses his lips together as he watches her. "Hullo, Miss Rebecca."

Rook had told him before that he could just call her Becca, but Ciaran had seen the way she'd pursed her lips like the day he'd dared Aunt Bishop to bite a lemon. He doesn't think she'd like it very much if he called her that. Better to stick to what makes her comfortable. If she is so important to Rook, Ciaran wants her to like him, too.

“Ciaran,” she says in greeting. She’s got a package in her arms. It’s wrapped in shiny paper with a ribbon on top. A present? It isn’t anyone’s birthday, best Ciaran can remember. Then she offers the parcel forward. “I brought you a gift.”

He takes it tentatively from her. “For me?” He frowns. “It’s not my birthday.”

Rook comes over, pressing a kiss to Rebecca’s cheek, and Ciaran watches in wonder as her expression softens. She seems to relax with his touch, all of her tension melting away like snow in the sun, and she nods as Rook whispers something in her ear.

Rebecca returns her attention to Ciaran as Rook makes his way inside the house. There’s a little more warmth than usual in her blue eyes. “I’m aware. I saw them and thought of you.”

She starts making her way to the door and Ciaran stumbles after her to keep up. He hugs the gift to his chest, a smile bubbling onto his face as he thinks of what it might be. Rebecca’s never given him a gift before, not on Christmas or his birthday, and certainly not out of the blue for no reason. But she was thinking of him and that makes him happy.

As they step into the sitting room, Ciaran hurries to leap onto the couch. Rebecca sits primly on the cushion opposite of him, watching him with interest. Ciaran rips into the shiny paper, excitement overtaking the his avoidance of the inevitable chastisement from his father for the mess he’s making as shreds of it fall to the floor.

He flips the lid of the box open, frowning at the contents. It’s a pair of red rain boots, bright and shiny in their cardboard confines. “You bought me shoes,” he says slowly. Is it a prank? Sometimes Aunt Bishop buys him something as a joke, just to watch his face, but Rebecca isn’t laughing the way Aunt Bishop always does before revealing the real gift.

“Last time I was here, I noticed your trainers were quite muddy,” Rebecca explains. “Having a pair of Wellies will keep your other shoes cleaner. I thought you might like the color.”

He should thank her. That’s what you do when people buy you gifts, right? If his father was in the room, he’d cuff Ciaran upside the back of the head for dawdling this long on it. He opens his mouth to say something, but a large crash comes from the kitchen, drawing both his and Rebecca’s attention away from the boots.

Ciaran can hear Aunt Bishop, her voice raised but not yelling loud enough for him to make out the words. His father’s voice is softer, gentler, that tone he uses when he wants to calm someone down. He looks over at Rebecca. She winces and wipes the expression from her face quickly, though the frown still lingers in the corners of her mouth.

“I’ve never heard Aunt Bishop so angry,” he murmurs. He squishes the rubber of the boots between his fingers just to give him something to do.

Rebecca sighs, “I knew he should have told her earlier.”

“Told her what?” Ciaran asks, eyes widening. “Are you and Da keeping secrets? Can I know? Can you tell me?”

Rebecca meets his expectant gaze and sighs. “Ciaran,” she says slowly. “You know I love your father very much, right?”

Ciaran nods, “He loves you, too, you know.”

Rebecca smiles softly, “I do.” Then she looks at him very seriously. She turns away from the kitchen, away from the argument going on behind the closed door, and fully to face him. “Your father and I are getting married.”

Ciaran purses his lips before asking, “So that makes you my new mum, yeah?”

Rebecca swallows heavily. “I suppose it will,” she says and Ciaran starts to feel nervous. He had thought Rebecca is fearless, facing the world with that severe set of her jaw and certainty in her pale eyes. She sounds afraid now.

He reaches out, leaning across the couch to put a hand on hers. She startles, but doesn’t pull away, and looks at him with wide, confused eyes. Ciaran smiles broadly at her, “Don’t worry, Miss Rebecca,” he says. He tries to mimic the tone his father takes when he scrapes his knees. “You’re going to be the best mum I’ve ever had. I know it.” He looks back down at the boots in his lap, wrinkling his nose. “Even if you buy me boots.”

Something flashes across Rebecca’s face and a watery smile crosses her lips. She laughs softly, pulling her hand free from his to ruffle his hair. “Thank you, Ciaran.” She trails her hand down to rest on his cheek as he beams at her. “It means a lot to me that you think so.”

[spoonietimelordy]

This is a welly boots kind of day

[captainmullin]

welly boots by the amazing devil is the song of all time . thinking about captain's dad and how he's a ghost that will ALWAYS haunt the narrative no matter where they go or who they meet

[holographicbutch]

Welly boots is a wyll song. To me

[mellomadness]

everyone’s already talked about how welly boots by the amazing devil was definitely written while joey was reading the witcher books and working on the show, and how geralt and ciri’s relationship are definitely influential in the song’s creation but like. has anyone talked about the song as is?

it’s from the perspective of a too-soon dead father, telling a story to—presumably—his living daughter whose ears can no longer hear his words and yet he continues to tell the tale. and as she grow up he continues to speak to her, always in her corner, even and especially when she breaks down and screams her hatred toward him in her grief—“I’ve been so scared, you left me here behind, do you not care? how the fuck am I supposed to carry on… without you here?”—he is still there, willing with everything he has left that she will still feel his love, feel the comfort in the ghostly hand on her back, feel his strength and take solace in him, even though they are worlds apart now.

and as she stands in the grass outside her childhood home she feels the wind whip at her, enveloping her as the storm rolls in. she turns to go back inside and freezes.

a brand new pair of scarlet welly boots sits on the front porch. just like the last pair her father bought her before he died. and she finally knows.

he never left

[milamurart]

7. Sad

You'll say "I've been so scared

You left me here behind, do you not care?

How the fuck am I supposed to carry on without you here?"

Just when you're about to give up every hope you have, you turn around

Perched by the stairs, someone's gone and left behind

A brand new pair of scarlet welly boots

[dasnercaret]

day 33: their scarlet welly boots

[fake-hollie]

8.Welly Boots

Just when you're about to give up every hope you have, you turn around Perched by the stairs, someone's gone and left behind A brand new pair of scarlet welly boots

Welly Boots by The Amazing Devil

This piece was created for @mcyt-jukebox-bonanza

These are all the pieces I made:

1. Hey Living People by DOMINUM

2. Hellfire by Visions of Atlantis

3. The Dead of the Sea by Visions of Atlantis

4. Drinking Song for the Socially Anxious by The Amazing Devil

5. The Pretender by Fabienne Erni, Michalina Malisz

6. Somebody by Haken

7. Secret Worlds by The Amazing Devil

8. Welly Boots by The Amazing Devil

Here is a link to a spotify playlist of these songs

[themusedump]

The Horror And The Wild - a sentence meme from The Amazing Devil's 2020 album The Horror And The Wild. Feel free to adjust as needed!

The Rockrose And The Thistle

"I know the kindest thing is to leave you alone."

"I've run out of my words, my song."

"Just let me die."

"I could try to calm you down but I know you won't."

"And you'll wail, you'll scream, but I'll never stop 'cause it's all that I have left. "

"I know the kindest thing is to never leave you alone."

The Horror And The Wild

"They said it all comes down to you."

"You are that space that's in between every page, every chord and every screen."

"You are the driftwood and the rift, you're the words that I promise I don't mean."

"We're drunk but drinking."

"They thought us blind."

"Remember me I ask, remember me I sing."

"Give me back my heart you wingless thing."

"Think of all the horrors that I promised you I'd bring."

"You passed your fingers through my hair and called me child."

"I steal the hours and turn the night into day."

"How bold I was, could be - will be - still am, by God still am."

"Remember me I ask."

Wild Blue Yonder

"Without you, I'm stronger."

"How wrong you were."

"You told me I was younger, that I was filled with wonder."

"For you. I would have gone so much blonder."

"So one last time, love, come and rip my clothes off."

"Get a grip, we're grownups."

"Let's wander, till the fuckers demand an encore."

"So hold me, lover, like you used to."

"Every stone you threw, I stood on to better see the view."

"I surrender what was, what could have been."

"Every brick you hurled, I'll use to build this world."

"I'd bruise you."

Welly Boots

"A storm is coming on."

"What do you mean you've lost your scarlet welly boots?"

"Do y'know what they cost?"

"Wear a raincoat or it'll soak you to the bone."

"It's just like falling snow, I am above you and I love you."

"Don't you know that I'll be with you all along, as long as you are kind?"

"'Cause when it's cold, I'll wrap my scarf around you."

"Just because I left doesn't mean that I'm not still there."

"I get to watch you grow up now and make me proud."

"Get drunk for me, sing louder than you've sung for me."

"'Cause you were always strong."

"When you were young, you'd kick things just to see if they would fall."

"That girl, she's wrong"

"I'll stick up for you, even though you haven't got a clue."

"You haven't got a fucking clue."

"And I'm so proud of you."

"I'm not alright!"

"You were supposed to be my light and keep me safe against them all!"

"How could you leave me here!?"

"I know you're strong enough to do this on your own."

"I've been so scared."

"You left me here behind, do you not care?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to carry on without you here?"

Farewell Wanderlust

"You look like I need a drink."

"And you are?"

"I'm the hardest goodbye that you'll ever have to say."

"I promise you I'll be better."

"I promise you I'll try."

"It's my curse to try and make it right, but by trying make it worse."

"You brought me to this party but you left me here behind."

"So long to the person you begged me to be."

"You gave us such a fright. We'd hate to see your mascara drip into your pint."

"Let's take this outside 'cause we're one and the same."

"Our gods have abandoned us, left us."

"Take up arms, take my hand, let us waltz for the dead."

"I promise you I'm not broken."

"I promise you there's more. "

"Goodbye to all my darkness, there's nothing here but light."

"Adieu to all the faceless things that sleep with me at night."

"You brought me through this darkness but you left me here behind."

"Now take a good long look at what you've done to me!"

Fair

"It's what my heart just yearns to say in ways that can't be said."

"Today I somehow understand the reason I was born."

"I try so hard to make you laugh at me."

"Oh, darling, please be mine."

"It's not fair how much I love you."

"It's not fair, 'cause you make me laugh when I'm actually really fucking cross at you for something."

"How unreasonably in love I am with everything you do."

"I spend my days so close to you 'cause if I'm standing here, maybe everyone will think I'm alright."

"I know exactly what I want and it's this life that we've created."

"And if you asked me to, if you asked me, I would lose it all."

"Christ, you'll be the death of me."

"I'll spend my days so close to you 'cause if I'm standing here maybe everyone will think I'm cool."

"Where have you been?"

"It's not fair 'cause you make me ache, you bastard."

"I'll stand here with you."

That Unwanted Animal

"There's a second wind coming."

"You try so loud to love me. I cannot seem to hear."

"Can't you hear that scratching? There's something at the door."

"Be good to me."

"Can't you hear it?"

"What's the time Mr .Wolf?"

Marbles

"You couldn't lie then and you sure as hell can't lie to me now."

"You stole the best years of my life."

"Do you think I'm sexy?"

"If one more guy calls me darling then I swear to you and to God I will murder them all."

"All the bastards applaud when I show that I'm flawed."

"You're not flawed darling, you're just a little under-rehearsed."

"I don't know, but I'm here."

"I've loved you, for a hundred years."

"Certainly fucking feels like it."

"The minute I met you, the colours of my life began to pour."

"I'm scared of the dark."

"And now, even though you're mad and these memories won't stay. That's okay."

"'Cause then I get to meet you for the first time every single day."

"And I will wait and hope."

Battle Cries

"I'm at the brink, don't laugh."

"And that drink, will it fix all those questions unasked?"

"Who'll save you when you fall?"

"Who died and made you king of it all?"

"Who wins this war?"

"Now the wind feels so warm on the back of my neck."

"Don't be uncouth, be a man."

"Tell the truth to me, love, does my hair look as nice?"

"Don't lie with your eyes, you know I despise that look."

"I know that I've been through the wars."

"With you, I could summon the gods and the stars."

"I won't leave without a fight."

"I won't let you turn our last night into this."

[ye-olde-trojan-horse]

Scarlet welly boots?!

hehe so this one will be a (hopefully) heart wrenching black brothers shorter length fic based on this song (WHICH IS AMAZING AND EVERYONE SHOULD GO AND LISTEN TO ALL THEIR MUSIC)

I’m just gonna leave the end lyrics of the song here

[cigarettesandinevitablebetrayal]

Raine Callaghan doesn’t know what to make of Rebecca Sinclair most days. They had a good relationship once, but that was a long time ago. A death in the family will do that, he supposes.

Rated M for mature themes such as parental death, dysfunctional families, child neglect, implied violence, and minor mentions to the North Irish Troubles.

Other Tags: Kid Fic, Growing Up, Time Skips, Canon Divergence (Alternate Backstory), Tragedy, and Hopeful Ending.

Masterpost | AO3

Chapter 2: That Thunder in Your Lungs

Callaghan Family Home, Belfast - 1983

Ciaran isn’t sure about this whole little brother business. For one thing, he’d thought babies were supposed to be more fun. Cuter, by far, than the wrinkly thing named Eoin that his father and Rebecca had brought home after days in the hospital. For another, he had underestimated just how much screaming a baby could do. Nothing that small, in his opinion, should be able to make that much noise. Rebecca and Aunt Bishop called it crying, but Ciaran knew better. If he were to do the same thing, aside from being scolded, he would be told not to stop crying, but to stop screaming. Perhaps one could get away with more when they were a baby.

Usually, Rebecca or Rook would go fetch Eoin at this point in his tantrums. It only ever took about ten minutes for him to be soothed back into inaction, but they’d said they needed a night out and Aunt Bishop could sleep through thunderstorms without so much as turning over. Ciaran wasn't sure anything short of a bombing could get her to her feet in the night, but there hadn't been one of those in a little bit. So when Eoin started up screaming, crying in the dark of the night, he’d woken Ciaran up easily.

Ciaran waits, trying desperately to block out the pitchy cries with his pillow as he buries his head beneath it. Minutes pass like hours and the screaming doesn’t stop. Ciaran throws the pillow off his head with a long groan and slips out of his bed. He pads across the hardwood floor and down the hall to his parent’s bedroom.

Eoin lies in his crib, little fists shaking and face red as a beet as he wails into the uncaring dark. Ciaran leans closer to the crib, peering through the bars. “Come on, Eoin, what’s wrong?”

As expected, Eoin doesn’t answer with anything other than more yelling. Did he make this much noise when he’d been this young? Ciaran hopes not. No wonder his mother hadn't stuck around. Rebecca has more patience, it seems. 

“What do you even have to cry about?” Ciaran demands, rolling his eyes. “All you do is sleep and eat and shout.”

He looks back at his little brother. Eoin is lighter skinned than him, his hair a medium brown instead of black like Ciaran and their father. His eyes are dark, though, like Aunt Bishop’s. Rebecca says he looks like her, but mostly Ciaran thinks Eoin looks like most babies do - like a shrunken old man with just a little more than wisps of hair across the top of his head. Right now, his eyes are screwed shut and his mouth is open as wide as he can manage.

With a sigh, Ciaran clicks the side of the crib unlocked and slides the bars out of his way. He sits down on the thin mattress of the crib, careful not to squish any part of Eoin. “How am I supposed to know what you want if you can't speak?" Ciaran sighs, wiggling his fingers over Eoin's face.

Eoin pauses in his wailing, the cries turning into more of a lamenting hiccuping sound as his dark brown eyes focus on Ciaran's fingers. Ciaran moves his hand and slips one hand under Eoin. How had his father shown him how to pick up a baby? Hand gently under the head for support, the other under his bottom, right? That felt right. Babies are too fragile, he thinks as he shifts Eoin close against his chest. Eoin steadily stops crying, quicker than he has in either Rook or Rebecca's arms. He burbles, eyes focused intently up at Ciaran.

Ciaran smiles down at his little brother in something like wonder. He shifts Eoin in his arms so that he can tap Eoin gently on the nose. "See, it's not so hard not to cry." He bounces Eoin lightly in his arms. "I've got you. You don't need to cry anymore."

Eoin grasps one of his fingers, his grip tighter than Ciaran expects. Ciaran laughs at the gesture and Eoin offers a wobbly smile in return. "Yeah, you know you're not so bad when you're not shouting your wee head off."

Ciaran moves his finger in Eoin's grasp as though Eoin is shaking his fist at the sky. A little pride burns in his chest as Eoin keeps smiling in his arms. It takes Rebecca and his father twice as long to get Eoin to settle on a good day. "I knew I'm your favorite," Ciaran says smugly, rocking Eoin gently. He rubs his thumb across Eoin's wrist. His skin is so soft. "Just wait until you get older. I'm going to teach you how to ride a bike and climb trees and how to tell all the constellations and how to look after yourself."

As Eoin begins to close his eyes, Ciaran lays him back down in his cot, further in so that he can squeeze in, too. He's halfway off the little mattress, but he ignores the discomfort as he brushes his hand across the fine silken hairs on Eoin's head. He wonders if they'll darken as he grows older. Aunt Bishop says that can happen sometimes.

"I think I get it now," Ciaran whispers. "The crying, I mean. Aunt Bishop does her best, but I get lonely, too." Ciaran closes his eyes, curled around his baby brother, and smiles. "You'll never be alone, not while I'm here. I promise."

Ciaran drifts to sleep, listening to the soft breaths of his brother. It isn't long before the hushed voices of his parents slip into the ephemeral darkness and amorphous shapes of his dreams. The words slip through his understanding like sand through his fingertips. He is vaguely aware of being moved, of being scooped up gently into arms bigger than his, the sound of steady breathing against his ear. There is warmth and a familiar scent of jasmine that he's come to associate with Rebecca.

When he's set back down, Ciaran begins to stir, and reaches out to grab her. Half-awake but groggy, he's aware of how she stops when he manages to catch hold of her hand. His eyes flutter open as she turns around. She slips her fingers from his, pulls his blanket up around him, and leans down to press a light kiss against his forehead. "Go back to sleep, Ciaran." It's more a breath than a whisper, but he hears it all the same.

"G'night, Mum," he mumbles back.

He slips back to sleep, clinging to the feeling of her hand on his cheek and the last words he hears before she steps out. "I love you." He doesn't have the energy to say it back. He hopes she knows it anyway.

[unholyamethyst]

To those who are not strong and cannot find their scarlet welly boots…