#the melody of this song fucking KILLS me it's SO good. the haunting energy of it...chef's kiss

[ibroughtyoumybullets-ningy]

listening to the Witch leak while also having to accept we're probably never getting mcr5

[sunjaesol]

My BFB is the one for me!

juke | human!au + brother!reggie | title from BFB // victorious

If someone had to ask her who the one constant in her life was, she would have to say Luke Patterson. Which was depressing, cause the guy went through life pretending to be a 90s heartthrob and, even worse, that list didn't even include her own mother. 

Julie met Luke when she was five and he was six. Her brother Reggie befriended him on the first day of school and the rest was history. "Soul-brothers" they called themselves, which would be cute if they weren't so obnoxious together. Separate, they were somewhat manageable. Put those two in the same room? Chaos would ensue. 

He was there for it all. Weekly play dates, birthdays, the occasional holiday, her mom's funeral, band rehearsals. And when Luke had a month-long falling out with his parents, he stayed with them. 

Realistically, that should make him seem like a brother to Julie. But neither Carlos or Reggie were as infuriating as Luke was! With the stupid band tees and the stupid smile and the stupid, relentless teasing he lovingly bestowed upon her. She lost count how many times he "poisoned" her soda with salt or woke her with a heart attack by playing his electric guitar. At least she had some grip on her brothers, being their only sister, but Luke… 

Luke and her had this interesting, little relationship that she couldn't quite put her finger on and it unnerved her. Like it was an itch she couldn't scratch. (Or maybe he was just an annoying mosquito buzzing around her and should leave her the fuck alone. Probably.)

Hopping down the stairs for her midnight snack, it was no surprise to her to find the idiot gaping into the fridge like a goon. With a nudge of the hip, she pushed him aside. 

'Hey!' 

'Either pick something or save power,' she retorted, grabbing a bowl of grapes. 

He snorted. 'I don't think my indecisiveness is gonna kill the planet.'

She shot him a look, an amused smile tugging on her lips. 'You wanna say that in the cute face of a polar bear?' 

Luke stared at her for a beat, a smile crawling on his own face and shaking his head with a chuckle. The fridge fell shut with the pride of a won argument swelling in her chest. 

'So why're you still up?', he asked as she flitted around him for the bread and peanut butter. Maybe she could sneak up a butterscotch cookie too - her dad won't notice one missing, right? 

Unscrewing the lid, she sighed. 'Mendoza's class is murdering me. I really don't get why we need to learn calculus. We're an arts school, not like any of us are going to use formulas on the set of a movie.'

When she passed him to get the orange juice from the fridge, he took hold of the jar, sliding it between his hands thoughtfully. 

'Just don't overthink it,' he shrugged. 

She rolled her eyes. 'Easy for you, obviously.'

His mouth fell slack, offended, as Julie put the bottle on the island with mirth glimmering in her expression. After years of sparring with Luke, she knew how to press his buttons and took great joy in doing so. 

Suddenly leaning into her personal bubble, he sputtered. 'Are you… calling me dumb?' 

Her hand pushed his face back with a scoff. 'Don't breathe on me. All I'm saying is that you look like you have elevator music playing up there 24/7.'

When she went to grab the jar from his hand, he moved it away. 

'Uh, I think you're mistaking me for your brother.'

'No-' Tried again, moved away. '-I don't think I do.'

'You do.'

She crossed her arms, resolute. 'He's part of the gifted program.'

It unfazed him. 'Yeah. And it means shit.'

She held her palm up, exasperated. 'Just give me the peanut butter, Luke.'

Raising it over his head with an infuriating smirk, the other tugged on a curl. 'No.'

Gah! He was so dead! Did he forget she lived with three men in this house?!

Without a second of hesitation, Julie barrelled into him and jumped to catch it. Luke snatched her wrist before she could with a laugh, a hitched puff coming right after as her elbow jabbed his ribs. 

He set the jar down at lightning speed and grabbed her other wrist. Both their arms were outstretched as her foot kicked his calf, hard. When he yelped, her left hand loosened and dove for the jar. Right as her fingertips grazed the glass, a strong arm snaked around her waist and pulled her back. An "oof!" left her lips, the breath kicked out of her lungs. 

Luke guffawed in her ear victoriously, whooping the house together. Curse words rolled off her tongue as she repeatedly slapped his forearm to let go. She felt embarrassingly small with her feet hovering above the floor and this power dynamic was not doing it for her confidence. 

'The fuck are you doing?' 

Julie smacked to the floor before the last words were uttered, a flabbergasted Reggie staring at the pair. 

Luke stammered. 'Uh…' 

'Your bestie held the peanut butter hostage,' Julie replied sardonically. 'Did dad wake up?' 

He shook his head, a peculiar expression fixed on Luke. Her gaze shot between the two. Were they having… a silent conversation? With the way their brows quirked an lips twitched, it seemed like some "bro-talk" Julie wouldn't even like to understand. 

'Don't break your head too much over Mendoza, okay?' Reggie added, smiling at her this time. 'Just relax.'

She sighed. Relax. Because the fear of failure got eradicated with the snap of a finger if she just relaxed. 'Yeah. Sure.'

The boys finally left, silence descended, and Julie made her sandwich. For some reason, the quietude made her uncomfortable. 

***

Though Luke was annoying at times, the band he was in - Sunset Curve - definitely wasn't. Reggie, Alex and Luke created it when they were thirteen and overzealous. Reggie and Luke met Alex the same year and bullied him into a friendship, all bonding over cliché lyrics and overused chord progressions. They quickly got better though, earning a small following and a hopeful future in the LA scene. Julie was very proud of her brother. All those hours practicing the bass until his fingers bled was finally paying off with each new gig they rocked. 

And as the Molina's were raised to appreciate good music, Julie often found herself sprawled on the leather couch as they rehearsed. Reggie used to hate it, saying she was being "sticky" and "distracting", but eventually found her useful whenever they needed someone to bounce ideas with. She has co-written many of their songs. It was then that Luke was the least annoying, when he was so entranced and passionate about music that he had no time to pester her. 

(If she were honest with herself, she'd admit that song-writing with Luke was when she felt like herself the most, enjoyed life the most. But Luke was stupid and she definitely didn't feel a vibe when they wrote, so honesty was obsolete.)

'Or else you'll get,' Luke growled in the mic, music crashing together in their signature punk-rock sound. 'Crooked teeth!' 

They shot into an electrifying interlude. Alex headbanging the sweat of his forehead from his fast-paced drumming, Reggie bouncing in his heels as he heightened the bassline and Luke… was being Luke. Julie looked up from her laptop as his strumming came closer, that signature grin fixed on her as his fingers expertly glided across the neck. Her typing paused, amused. 

Why was he so adamant about "impressing" her with a riff? He knew she liked their music (and has caught her looking at his hands… ugh, fourteen year old Julie had bad judgement), he didn't have to prove himself or something. 

She smiled. 'You're going to miss your cue, idiot!' 

Ignoring her exclaim, he bobbed his head to the melody and wiggled his brows. Her eyes drifted to Alex, the blonde staring at Reggie and Reggie staring at the back of Luke's head. This has been happening a lot, Julie realised. There was this weird energy whenever they were all in the same room. For a bit, she thought it was her that was the problem, but if she was, Reggie would've told her by now. 

Now Luke was really in her face, pushing her laptop shut with his knee and making those stupid expressions he pulled whenever Grace talked to him in the hallway. Never one to back down, Julie abruptly stood up and pushed him back with a challenging smirk. The boy was seventeen; he was in serious trouble if he lacked the spatial awareness and common sense. 

‘Sing with us?!’, he pleaded over the crash of the cymbal. Behind him, Alex’ brows went so far up it disappeared into his snapback. A nervous tug knotted in her stomach at his request, like she was afraid to disappoint him, and shook her head. Keeping up the attitude she nodded at the laptop he so valiantly closed for her. 

Pulling it against her chest, she pointed at his bandmates. ‘Go sing about some fucked up teeth more!’

‘Crooked teeth!’, they all yelled in annoyance. Proud to have executed her role an irritating, little sister, she hopped out the studio. If she felt someone’s gaze burning in her back, she must’ve imagined it.  

***

There was something to be said about Grace and Luke. Though it wasn’t Julie’s business (or anyone’s, for that matter), the coupling has always intrigued her. Or lack of coupling, really. Every few months they’d find themselves at each other’s lockers flirting up a storm for everyone to see to then ghost each other again. This vicious cycle has been on loop since sophomore year. Julie felt bad for Grace, the pretty senior girl deserved far better than Luke. 

Last night, Julie couldn’t sleep. “Crooked Teeth” was blaring in her mind and haunted her dreams (and Luke’s stupid face) until she woke up in a sweat. Something was off. Like solving a math question and knowing the result is wrong but unsure where it all went wrong. Around four in the morning, it hit her. The bridge! It was all jumbled and clunky and she had far better ideas on how to craft it! She sat at her keyboard until seven in the morning, only to stop when a frustrated Carlos barged in, threw a pillow at her and yelled to “zip it!” Reggie and dad, naturally, slept through all of it. 

Now, a sleep-deprived, caffeinated and kind of manic Julie was bustling through the hallways trying (and failing) to find Luke. Sure, they butted heads a lot, but music has always been the glue. Temporary glue, but the fact remained that she and Luke were cut from the same cloth when it came to composition and lyrical prowess. (Not that she’d ever admit that. Ew. His ego was large enough as is.) 

And then she saw him. At Grace’s locker. Her breath lodged in her throat at the sight. It shouldn’t. God, it truly shouldn’t. But it did. Because Grace was pretty and Luke had one of those faces and they looked good together and it annoyed the fuck out of her. Like, who decided who went through puberty better. Julie knew she wasn’t unattractive, but she wasn’t Grace either. Tall and lithe and glossy black hair and a perfect nose. The ugly, green monster in the back of her head snarled about how her personality was probably off-putting, though Julie knew that to be untrue. Grace was, well, graceful. Genuinely kind. Gah! Since when did Julie hate on other girls? Pushing the voice down, she mustered back the previous excitement (the! bridge!) and paraded towards the pair. Luke saw her before Grace did.       

She rushed the last few steps and hastily grabbed the papers from the side pocket of her backpack. 'Luke! Hi, Grace. Okay, I know "Crooked Teeth" is finished, but I couldn't stop thinking about it and I had this amazing idea for the bridge.'

When he didn't react for a beat, stunned by her giddy attitude, her smile mellowed awkwardly. 'I mean… it's your song. You don't have to-' 

'No!', he shouted, frantic. Her brows raised in surprise. 'No, uh-' His hand flew to the back of his head, raking the ends of his hair. 'Yeah. D'you wanna go to the music room? To show me?'

Julie’s eyes flitted to a confused Grace. ‘Um…’

Luke caught on and shot the girl an easy grin. ‘Talk to you later, yeah?’ 

She shrugged. ‘I guess?’

Before she could say anything more, Luke snatched Julie by the wrist and dragged her to the nearest, open music room. The arts school was littered with them, though most had a reserved schedule. Luckily, one was empty. 

‘Okay,’ she said, tucking her hair behind her ears as she slid down in front of the piano. Luke sat next to her, expectant. ‘The bridge right now? It’s fine, but it’s not “wow”, you know? I was thinking about how the verses and chorus sound so visceral and loud, so the bridge should have something guttural. Like, primal. That’s a weird word to use, but, I don’t know, have it sound dangerous? Like - why’re you looking at me like that?’

A strange expression was plastered on Luke’s face. A half-grin and wide eyes, like he was scared he’d miss something, like he’d blink and she’d disappear. In other words: he looked insane. Then again, her exhaustion mustn’t look too appealing either. 

He shook his head, that smile falling away for something more timid. All the bravado he oozed while talking to Grace just moments before, was gone for shy eyes and fingers gripping the chain around his jeans. 

‘Nothing.’ He nudged her. ‘You kinda ambushed me here, Molina.’

Her words stuttered out. ‘I- I was just-’ Zeroing back on the keys with a frown, she said: ‘I’ll just play you the bridge.’

As she did, her mind was elsewhere. This wasn’t weird, right? They’ve done this before. Collaborated, gone to music rooms to bounce ideas back and forth, played until dusk. She knew it wasn’t weird. It was always just a matter of time before the next “ambush” came, as he put it. Soon, he’d barge into her room with half a melody and forced her to finish it. This was normal.

Then why did her skin ripple with anticipation from his intense gaze directed on her temple? 

When she finished, she kept her eyes on the keys. Suddenly, his hand appeared in her vision and softly patted her knuckles, urging her to look at him anyway. He had that strange look again, the sight letting the most peculiar feeling rush through her veins.   

Luke smiled. ‘I like it.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Wanna play it for the boys during next rehearsal?’ His brows raised with hope, head leaning her way as if he wasn’t already close enough. And he wasn’t close enough. 

Julie went on autopilot at this point, too enthralled by her emotions running wild. ‘Yeah.’ It came out breathy and foolish and if she had half a brain cell right now, she’d kick herself in the face for how dumb she sounded.  

His hand squeezed hers and then let go, that smile turning nervous. Oh God, did he notice how weird she abruptly got? ‘Cool. Sweet. Perfect. Your- this was perfect. I’ll see you, uh, -’

‘Yeah,’ she squeaked. ‘Whenever.’

When he left the room in a hurry, her face planted itself on the keys and erupted a harsh sound. Fitting, she believed. Her mind was a mess too. 

***

Then stuff began piling on and each time it did, Julie’s heart fluttered like the traitorous bitch it was. 

Like when Luke told her to tell calculus to “bite her” as a joke, but then she actually did during a test and somehow didn’t get a black out. She knew it was likely just a placebo, but the grin she earned later on when she showed him the B+ and he gave her the tightest hug was worth the pseudo-science. 

Or he found her in the hallway whenever they both had a free period and casual small talk turned to slamming each other into lockers or, more recently, pulled her outside to get boba from the place right across the street. Their boba hangouts were probably the strangest development of all, but it was… nice. Pleasant. If she ever secretly thought it was a date, then it must’ve been a sun stroke hitting her. 

Or she’d be doing her homework and he’d waltz into her room (because he was always at their house and that never changed) and randomly help her with a task or question. It was small and it usually slowed her down, but she hasn’t had the guts to turn him away either. She blamed his stupid smile. 

Or just yesterday they were all in the kitchen and she was peering over Reggie’s shoulder as he tried and failed to properly text his crush Kayla, when she said: 

‘Isn’t that weird? That you’re talking to a junior?’

Luke, who was looking over his other shoulder, scoffed. ‘Why would that be weird?’

Pointing at the emoji he should be using (the purple heart - duh!), she shrugged. ‘I don’t know. You just don’t see a lot of people date outside of their year. It’s, like, an unspoken rule.’

Reggie pouted. ‘Not helping, Jules.’

‘I am! Use the purple heart!’

Luke snorted. ‘Please, if you were asked out by some senior boy, you’d say no?’

The Molina’s looked up from the phone to shoot him a weird look. The boy shrunk under their stare, fingers nervously drumming island. 

Caution tinged her voice. ‘I don’t know… should I?’

The boys stared at each other for a beat. That “bro-talk” again, Julie presumed with a roll of the eye. Typical.

‘Yes,’ Luke trailed, unsure. ‘You should say no.’

A ball of disappointment dropped to the pit of her stomach at his words - hard. Oh. So he didn’t mean himself then. Julie froze. Why would she even want that? She was not returning to her fourteen year old self that gawked at Luke like an idiot. Nope. Not happening. Just because she felt flushed and ecstatic every Wednesday afternoon when they schedules lined up, that didn’t mean her crush has resurfaced. Totally. 

But then something even more maddening happened. It was Thursday afternoon, right before lunch, when Nick approached her by her locker. She’d been fervently texting a sick Flynn to get better when he started asking about dance class and how on earth he was supposed to master a calypso by Monday next week. He was clearly stressed and Julie gave him a hug. Just as she was going to offer her help (or redirect him to Kayla, as she was an actual dance goddess), a familiar arm draped around her shoulder and pulled her back. 

Julie was fuming. Luke decided to start acting like some jovial prick as he intimidated Nick with all these terror stories about his own dance assignments from last year and that “a calypso was just the beginning.” The poor guy was practically passed out from anxiety by the time his spiel was over. She couldn’t even yell an apology as he sped off and spun around the corner at lightning speed.        

The arm fell away, Luke stared at her ridden with guilt, muttered some half-assed “sorry” and rushed off in the opposite direction. A baffled, angry Julie was left standing there. 

If Luke thought he could be some white knight, he was dead wrong. 

***

She got lucky. Reggie mentioned beforehand Luke was coming over and knew that he, inevitably, would ascend the stairs. A pent-up Julie paced in her room, feeling that fever pitch come to a boiling point. Argh! Why was he so… infuriating?! (And attractive?! And charismatic?! Argh!) 

Then she heard it. His tentative steps up the steps. Like he knew. The fact that she was seemingly predictable left her cold this time, slamming her door open at just the right moment to snatch his wrist and roughly yank him inside. 

Before he could react, she yelled: 'What the hell, Luke?! Why did you do that?' 

Luke was a stammering, embarrassed mess. Good. 'Uh- I- I-' 

'You can't just act all overprotective or possessive like that! What's your problem with Nick? He's super nice and, you know, my friend. I already have two brothers, I don’t need one more!’

'I-'

'You don't get to decide who I talk with! Or save me or whatever fantasy you were living in! And-!' 

'I like you, Jules,' he blurted. 

Julie was blazing though. 'So? That doesn't mean that-' Until the words dried on her tongue, stunned. All else she had prepared to say flew out the window. The constant fluttering in her heart hitched. Did she… hear him correctly? 'W-what?' 

A beat went by, like he couldn’t believe he actually said that, but then word vomit spewed out. 'I- I like you? Like, on and off since I was eleven and I tried to not like you - I really tried - but you're just incredible and pretty and an amazing singer and you keep doing that thing with your lips when you have a thought and it's been killing me seeing Nick shoot his shot and-' 

Julie dove forward and pressed a kiss on his rambling mouth. Stretched on her tippy toes, she saw him freeze and stare at her in wonder. Slowly, her poor heart began to beat again, fast and fond and for him and oh my God, what was happening? 

'Did you just-', he croaked. 

Shit. Should she have asked to kiss him first? Her hands didn't leave his shoulders, alarmed. 'Uh… you just kept talking and-' She swallowed back her nerves and mustered a smile. 'If you wanted to be my boyfriend, you could've just asked.'

Luke blinked, completely in awe by her words. 'What?' 

Alright. Time to take life by the balls, Molina. 

'You didn't think I might like you back?' 

An incredulous laugh puffed from his lips, looking from her hands on his shoulders and then grabbed onto her waist. Jitters burst in her stomach at the sudden touch. This was actually happening. Holy shit. But God, how could she deny that bright smile and his warm smile and that giddy feeling that rippled her skin each time they hung out? 

'Can we try that again?', he breathed. 

His grin captured hers before she could fully nod, his hands slipping to her lower back and jaw without hesitation. Her arms slung around his neck, finally getting a feel for his soft locks of hair. Heat grew from her chest to her toes, curling from bliss. She felt deliciously empty and full of glee all at once. 

Her back fell against the door with a giggle. Just as he went back in, she pressed a finger on his lips. 

'Still doesn't make it right what you did.' 

'Yeah.' He kissed her again. 'Sorry.'

She tried saying more, but each word was muffled by another warm kiss of his intoxicating lips and all she could do was melt against him. The odd lyric that “heaven was his lips and larger than paradise” passed her by, hopefully reminding her of its existence in an hour or two. 

His fingers slipped under her shirt and dug into her heated skin. They became lazier, the kisses open-mouthed and smiling and already so amazing at first try. Julie has kissed a handful of boys before, but this? Unmatched. 

Two sudden knocks against wood. ‘Julie?’

They froze, Julie slapping a hand over his mouth to stifle his inevitable snicker. 

‘Have you seen Luke?’, Reggie continued, confusion lacing his voice. 

‘No!’, her voice squeaked, still affected by their make-out. Cringing, she tried to level it. ‘Uh, maybe he’s gone to the, uh-’ His lips grazed her neck, teasingly. She pinched his arm, but he didn’t lean back. Asshole. ‘-uh…’

‘Julie? Everything okay?’

‘Yeah! Yeah! I’m fine!’ Julie pushed Luke back again, this time the boy giving her some space. The wolfish smirk he was sporting was one she either wanted to slap or kiss away. ‘Maybe he’s in the bathroom? Annoying Carlos? The studio?’ Not my room!  

They held in their breaths as they waited for a reply. Her mind was failing to catch up to what she’s just done. Here she was, with flushed lips and tingling skin from Luke’s actions as her brother was meandering on the other side of the door. How did she end up here? 

He blew a raspberry. ‘Okay…’ They sighed. ‘When you’re done making out, can you force Luke to start our project? Kind of an important assignment.’

Luke’s face crashed into pure horror, mouth falling agape and skin pale as a ghost. Julie snorted despite herself, dropping her head on his shoulder in an attempt to muffle her giggles but failing horribly. Of course, Reggie knew. His dreamy nature made anyone forget how observant he actually was, yet here he instantly he had his pulse on the facts. Or he’s always known about Luke’s crush on her. Probably both. 

Her smile stretched against the fabric of his shirt. Luke had a crush on her. Luke liked her. 

Reggie’s footsteps faded away, his bedroom door falling shut. Their gazes met again. 

Luke gulped, green eyes wide and oh so adorable. ‘He took that surprisingly well.’

Her chin raised, haughty. She hasn’t forgotten about that infuriating face of his just one minute before. ‘You kissed my neck.’

That look returned as he hummed, edging closer. ‘I did.’

‘You’re an asshole, you know that?’

His face brightened at her words, weaving a hand through her and making her sigh just like that. She was gone and she didn’t even know it. ‘And you’re-’ he murmured, softly kissing her lips, ‘-into that.’

How desperately she wanted to keep this going, she has heard what Reggie said. An important project due. She shouldn’t trouble her brother like that, even if making out with his best friend was far more appealing than anything else in the world right now.

The measly words puffed out. ‘You have-’ kiss ‘-a project-’ kiss ‘-with Reggie.’ kiss.  

‘Hmm…’ Letting her stand between his legs to be even closer and consequently shutting down any rationale, Luke mumbled against her lips: ‘One more minute.’

In the end, Luke stayed for another thirty minutes before Reggie barged in, dragged the boy from Julie’s bed by the collar and wordlessly trucked back out the room. When later that night she received a text saying goodnight jules 💙 she knew she hadn’t been dreaming.

And when Luke kissed her square on the lips the next day for everyone to see, Julie had inkling this interesting, little relationship of theirs was the just the beginning.  

@blush-and-books @bluefirewrites @willexx @unsaid-emily @sophiphi @ourstarscollided

[bshpkntrck]

A Madness Shared By Two Siren Battle

Spoilers for A Madness Shared By Two. Under the cut TW for self harm mentions and blood

A haunting song filled the night air as most people slept. Brown eyes opened and without a second glance to the sleeping form next to him he started to head to the sound. It belonged to a red headed woman standing by the lake. "Hello Petey."

"Such a good boy Petey coming out here to see me. Although it pains me to know you're married now you won't be for long you'll be here with me. "

"Over my re-dead body bitch! Get your slutty hands the fuck away from him!" Her blue eyes looked and was met with a pair of icy blue eyes that didn't look too happy about being awake.

"Patrick?! You're supposed to be dead!"

"I am and I'm going to prove to you my song is stronger than yours!"

"So you really wanna battle a siren Pattycakes? You know what will happen and then Petey will be mine anyways."

"Don't call me that and don't call him that. I'm going to win this or die trying."

“You? You never liked to sing you’re too shy and you probably can’t sing but go ahead try.”

The both of them started belting out Hallelujah. Pete’s brown eyes were glazed over still and in his minds eye he saw blue eyes but who they belonged to he couldn’t quite place….

Halfway through Patrick’s knees started to wobble and fell down starting to vomit. “Give it up Pat you can’t beat a siren I don’t know how you’re back but I was the one that convinced Gerard to kill you so I COULD have Pete.”

Blue eyes flickered yellow before lighting up in angelic blue/white glow. “You just signed your own death certificate.” Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand Patrick started to sing again…although the song was different.

“It's all a game of this or that, now versus then

Better off against worse for wear

And you're someone who knows someone who knows someone I once knew

And I just want to be a part of this

The road outside my house is paved with good intentions

Hired a construction crew 'cause it's hell on the engine

And you are the dreamer and we are the dream

I could write it better than you ever felt it”

Pete’s hands started to twitch the image behind his minds eye started to develop. He still saw blue eyes but the red hair was fading and turning more strawberry blonde..

“So hum hallelujah, just off the key of reason

I thought I loved you, but it was just how you looked in the light

A teenage vow in a parking lot, 'til tonight do us part

I sing the blues and swallow them too”

 Pete was still by Ashlee’s side and she was singing too. Patrick knew battling a siren could make him sick..but he didn’t care this was for Pete the only anchor to this life he had…besides the kids which he wouldn’t have if not for Pete.

“My words are my faith, to hell with our good name

A remix of your guts, your insides x-rayed

And one day we'll get nostalgic for disaster

We're a bull, your ears are just a china shop

I love you in the same way, there's a chapel in a hospital

One foot in your bedroom and one foot out the door

Sometimes we take chances, sometimes we take pills

I could write it better than you ever felt it”

Patrick looked at Pete and he was still next to the skank. Patrick could feel the vomit rising in his throat again but yet he still sang..hoping the next part would get his husband back.

“Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelu-

Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelu-

(Hum hallelujah, hum hallelujah, hum hallelujah, hum hallelujah)

A teenage vow in a parking lot, 'til tonight do us part

I sing the blues and swallow them too”

After the last line Patrick was keeled over in the bushes vomiting again. Gods it was worse than morning sickness he had with all the kids (well maybe not the twins) put together. When he felt a hand on his back he looked up and baby blues met wide eyed browns.

“Trick? You okay?”

“Yes and no.. I feel like shit but..you’re here. So that’s a plus.”

“HOW HOW COULD YOU CHOSE HIM OVER ME?! HE’S FAT AND UGLY! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE MINE PETE!” She fired  an energy orb at the pair and Patrick’s eyes widened in his current state there wasn’t much he could do…

Before the energy orb could hit them an energy beam countered it. “Don’t you EVER EVER call him fat and ugly again. He’s perfect in every way. Selfless,beautiful and overall a perfect pure creature. He’s a lot stronger than you and he held back. He held back because he knows I don’t like to see him get consumed by his rage.” One of Pete’s arms was around Patrick the other outstretched where he had fired the energy beam from.

“Come on Petey come back to me.” She started her siren song again and once again brown eyes started to glaze over.  Patrick pale and blue eyes lacking their normal fire stood up.

“Really we’re doing this again? I beat you once I’ll do it again!”

“You can’t beat a siren..Tricky.”

“Watch me. “ Again he took a breath and shakily started to sing.

“Don't panic

No, not yet

I know I'm the one you want to forget

Cue all the love to leave my heart

It's time for me to fall apart

Now you're gone

But I'll be okay

Your hot whisky eyes

Have fanned the flames

Maybe I'll burn a little brighter tonight

Let the fire breathe me back to life

Baby, you were my picket fence

I miss missing you now and then

Chlorine kissed summer skin

I miss missing you now and then

Sometimes before it gets better

The darkness gets bigger

The person that you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger

Oh, we're fading fast

I miss missing you now and then”

He wobbled and looked over at Pete whose eyes snapped back to normal at the sad melody. This was what Patrick and Pete always sang to each other when the other down.  

“Making eyes at this husk around my heart

I see through you when we're sitting in the dark

So give me your filth

Make it rough

Let me, let me trash your love

I will sing to you every day

If it will take away the pain

Oh and I've heard you got it, got it so bad

'Cause HE IS the best you'll never have

Baby, you were my picket fence

I miss missing you now and then

Chlorine kissed summer skin

I miss missing you now and then

Sometimes before it gets better

The darkness gets bigger

The person that you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger

Oh, we're fading fast

I miss missing you now and then“

Tears pricked at the corner of Patrick’s eyes as he finally started to collapse forward. He would’ve hit the ground if Pete hadn’t dashed forward to catch him. “Okay that’s it we’re done here. Stop trying to lure me away from him…he needs me and I need him. We’re soulmates you stupid cunt. You could’ve asked me out in school but you didn’t you were a bitch then and you’re a bigger bitch now. Having a pretty face and voice doesn’t mean you can lure anyone in. Patrick’s got a PRETTIER face and ANGELIC voice and he doesn’t need it to seduce me. He does that by being himself.”

From Pete’s arms Patrick groaned. “Shut up..I do not.”

With a fast shimmer they were back home and Pete carried Patrick up the stairs. “Pete..baby you don’t have to do this I can walk.”

“Nope absolutely not you exhausted yourself in that battle.”

“I absolutely did not.”

“You’re being stubborn and won’t admit it.”

Patrick pouted but didn’t protest when Pete laid him down in the bed especially when he laid next to him.

“Now lets go back to sleep especially since I know how much you hate being up early.”

A kiss to his nose and a low grumble that sounded like shut up as Patrick snuggled into his arms.

Patrick wasn’t sure how long he was asleep for when he heard it…the haunting siren call. Blue eyes glazed over as he untangled himself from Pete and slowly started to head towards the source of the noise.

Pete was a much lighter sleeper than his husband and felt him get up. He assumed maybe Patrick was going to the bathroom or maybe to check on Mycah. But either way he shouldn’t be walking alone..he was still weak from his battle with the siren. And that’s when Pete could just faintly hear it….that bitch was going after Patrick..

When Pete had found them Ashlee was singing by her lake and Patrick…Patrick was crucified against the tree..blue-silver blood dripping from his wrists and his head hanging down against his chest. “WHAT THE EVER LOVING FUCK DID YOU DO TO HIM?”

“Who says I did it darling? I’m just singing my song..for a lonely broken heart…yours.”

“My heart isn’t broken..its filled with rage that I’m going to kill yo—“ He was cut off  by Patrick’s shrill screech as she sliced her nails down his arm causing more of the blue-silver blood to flow.

“Come on Petey you’re a vampire aren’t you and this one..he’s the head white angel how  tempting that must be for you. I promise I’ll take care of you just come kill him like a good vampire.”

Vampires were naturally drawn to white angel blood it was like catnip to a cat to them. Patrick wasn’t just a white angel..he was the head white angel so his scent was one million times more alluring than any of his followers. Throw in that Patrick was well Pete’s other half and it was infinity more times alluring than any scent in the world. Pete’s eyes flashed red and his fangs extended. He ended up biting his own hand first. “I won’t hurt him… I hate drinking his blood. Leave him alone…I’ll go with you.”

“Pete…no..” Patrick’s eyes were becoming more focused and the cuts on him had vanished. Pete didn’t know his husband could heal without using his hands. He did however know how strong Patrick was so he wasn’t surprised to see him break free of his binds once his cuts were healed. “I can beat her I just need the energy…I need you.”

“You’ve tried Tricky and you failed. You gave in so NICELY when I was torturing you earlier.”

Patrick frowned as he saw what had transpired before Pete got there.

“You came I didn’t think I could lure a celestial being such as you..usually it’s creatures of the night. We’re going to have some fun before I kill you.” 

Next thing Patrick knew he was crucified against the tree tight wire digging into his wrist causing the blood to start dripping.  The pain was excruciating and it reminded Patrick of his past..his dark past that almost cost him Pete. 

“Thinking of him? Don’t worry he’ll come then he’ll be mine.”

“I don’t care what you do to me…leave him alone.”

“Whats on your mind Tricky? Mean little ole me could fuck your mind better than Gerard ever could..or what about your dear old parents?”

Instantly Patrick froze and went completely rigid. Memories of curling in the corner hiding while adults screamed saying magic was make believe and to grow up to be a real man not some fag waving a wand flashed into his head. Pale white hands covered his ears and he started to rock back and forth.

Pete was at a loss..he had never seen Patrick like this…what did this devil woman do to him? “WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?”

“Nothing..yet he’s weak Petey how can you expect him to protect you?”

“I don’t need him to protect me! Leave him alone!” 

“Why? You’re going to kill him.” With a few words a wall of water rose up and lifted Patrick in the air before freezing so it imprisoned him. Ashlee hopped up to him cutting his shirt down with her nails and then dragging her nails over his right shoulder where the tattoo of Pete’s name was.  Blue eyes opened wide and he started to scream again thrashing against his icy binds as the ice dug into him and more blood started to pour out of previously healed wounds.

Pete followed her because he needed to wake Patrick up there was no way he could win this fight alone.“Patrick! Patrick wake up I’m here…I’m right here Trick… and I am so so so sorry.”

“He can’t hear you. As far as he knows he’s this scared little teenager again that was hopelessly in love with his best friend that was just out of his reach.  So since that’s true..I’ll make sure to erase his memory of you permanently.” She finally reached down to his left hand where streaks of blue-silver blood trailed and almost helped lubricate his ring finger allowing her to pull off the silver band.

When Pete saw her remove Patrick’s wedding band the bloodlust in his subsided but the anger rose to a fever pitch. He would never forget the day him and Patrick got married. Bathed in the warm glow of Patrick’s angel palace a place that Pete by all regards didn’t belong. But Patrick was firm and said for the light to exist it needed a little dark.  That was what was engraved on those wedding bands. Alongside the date and a brief signature.  He remembered dipping Patrick all the way down to kiss him in front of all their friends and how Patrick despite turning a beautiful shade of pink (it clashed with the all white that he was wearing) allowed it and even was the one to attempt to deepen it. The way they had waltzed around to their wedding song was magical. 

Pete was at a loss. He didn’t know how to save Patrick. If roles were reversed Patrick would’ve had him safely in his arms by now.Even when Pete was named head vampire Patrick didn’t bat an eyelash about going to the vampire kingdom with him for the coronation ceremony.Even though it put him in extreme danger given how attractive a white angel’s blood was to a vampire. But no Patrick this pure and beautiful selfless creature walked confidently hand in hand with Pete and smiled when Pete was told it was him, he was the new head vampire.  At that moment he finally felt worthy of Patrick. Even though he was older than Patrick he always felt like Patrick was out of reach, he was smart, he was strong and he could command the white angel army easier than he could fall asleep. Pete sought out Patrick’s advice about ruling a species and Patrick just shrugged and gave him that smile with those blue eyes. “Just be yourself.”

Ashlee had raised the prison even higher and sent a wall of water crashing into Pete knocking him back down to the ground.Fists clenched after looking down his left wrist where Patrick’s name was inked into his skin forever.  Using his super ability to jump fifty feet in the air he landed on the ice prison where Ashlee was still clawing her nails into Patrick who wasn’t screaming anymore and was just staring straight ahead like he was…oh god he couldn’t be.

“Get your fucking disgusting hands off him and I won’t punch you hard enough to make your ancestors feel it.”

“Awe but Petey….I’ll comfort you..sorry for the loss of your sweet sweet husband but face it. He was a little geek and you two just didn’t fit together. You’re better off without him—“ The punch when it came was hard and Pete felt like he was borderline going feral.  “Give me his wedding band RIGHT NOW OR I’LL TEAR YOU APART PIECE BY PIECE.”

The next bunch of events happened so fast it was a blur. The two of them were wrestling and Pete had to admit she was strong considering his super human strength. Dear gods Patrick couldn’t really be dead could he?

Her sharp claws dug down his arms and he screamed at the pain and slashed at her with his own claws.

“Ice carcerem!” Now Ashlee was imprisoned in an ice prison just like she had done to Patrick and Pete was grateful he remembered a few spells from his school days.

“Now I am going to tear you apart limb by limb. You’ll pay for what you did to him. I don’t know how to destroy a siren but I’ll figure it out!”

“You? You were too busy banging Gabe to pay attention how did you ever pass scho—“

Pete wondered what made her stop talking even as he pressed his hand to skin trying to stop the bleeding. If he had fed he’d be self healing but he hadn’t eaten in awhile.

“Oh, the things that you do in the name of what you love

You were doomed but just enough

You were doomed but just enough

If you were church, whoo

I'd get on my knees, yeah

Confess my love, I'd know where to be

My sanctuary, you're holy to me

If you were church, yeah, I'd get on my knees

I love the world but I just don't love the way it makes me feel

Got a few more fake friends

And it's getting hard to know what's real

And if death is the last appointment

Then we're all just sitting in the waiting room

I am just a human trying to avoid my certain doom”’

Pete heard the haunting melody and it was a call like another siren…dear gods Ashlee was bad enough.

“I didn’t know there was another siren nearby…but still they can’t have you. I claimed you first Petey..” She started to wail as the mystery siren’s song changed to something darker…

“All the writers keep writing what they write

Somewhere another pretty vein just dies

I've got the scars from tomorrow and I wish you could see

That you're the antidote to everything except for me

A constellation of tears on your lashes

Burn everything you love

Then burn the ashes

In the end everything collides

My childhood spat back the monster that you see

My songs know what you did in the dark

So light em up…ignis anguis!”

That last bit was not a song..it was a spell..a spell Pete remembered being cast the year they all got snowed in at the magic school.  The fire snake wrapped slowly around Ashlee’s ankles.  Her ice prison was melting and the collision of heat and steam made it hard to see. 

Pete sighed softly and just started to sing softly trying to comfort himself for dealing with the after math of this battle.

“The tombstones are waiting

They were half engraved

They knew it was over”

Pete didn’t know how he was supposed to deal with losing Patrick again…

“Just didn't know the date”

He jumped about ten feet in the air when he heard someone singing with him.Was it the siren that had helped him? Were there good sirens? Maybe this one didn’t attract married men…so maybe Pete was safe, for the moment.

“And I cast a spell over the West

To make you think of me

The same way I think of you

This is a love song in my own way

Happily ever after below the waist”

And now the siren’s voice sounded familiar and Pete slapped himself. It wasn’t a siren’s voice it was an angel’s voice…his angel’s voice and he barely had time to process that when he felt lips on his. 

“How did you get out of that mess? I thought you were dead!” Not caring about covering each other in their own blood the pair found themselves in a vice grip hug. “We’re connected love as long as you live I’ll find a way back to you. Plus well I can heal myself you know. Now then.”

Pete watched as Patrick stood up and faced Ashlee. Despite being tortured he stood strong. “I believe you have my wedding band give it back and maybe I’ll remove the flames. Tell me Ashlee am I more than you bargained for yet?”

“Hey Trick? I’m glad you’re okay but I can’t get my arm to stop bleeding think you could?”

“Oh God…I’m sorry Pete..but I’m not going to heal you. You’re going to heal yourself.”

“You know I can’t…OH!”

Brown met blue (although Patrick’s eyes were more green from using his angelic siren powers) and Pete saw Patrick’s plush pink lips curve into a smirk. He walked behind his husband and held him by his waist nuzzling into his neck. “I still feel bad…”

“Sush and just bite me.”

“Trick baby..don’t you think you’ve lost enough blood..”

“I swear to fuck Peter if you don’t bite me…trust me…I know my body…and I need you.”

If there was one thing Pete couldn’t refuse it was when Patrick’s voice went low and raspy. It was like his voice dripped of sex,which right now Pete reminded himself it probably was.

~#~

Having retrieved his wedding band back from Ashlee Patrick smirked looking at Pete. “Well put it on and kiss me.”

“Babe you really want me to kiss you? My mouth is tainted with your blood and my own.” The ring was slid onto Patrick’s ring finger and he sighed softly however…

“I don’t care kiss me now so help me—mmmph!”

His hands tangled in Pete’s hair and their hips crashed against each other’s before Patrick broke the kiss leaving Pete confused. “Wait here..I’m gonna make sure she can’t bother us anymore.”

Patrick couldn’t jump as high as Pete could but he could fly and was up at the top of Ashlee’s slowly melting ice prison the clashing of his and Pete’s fire and ice spells. “Well well well what have we here?”

Ashlee looked at him and gasped. “You…you look different…you’re not fat like you were in school and you’re glowing.”

“I know and I haven’t been for awhile. You were just too blind to see.  I’m going to sing you one more song and then we’re done.”

“So wear me like a locket around your throat I’ll weigh you down,I’ll watch you choke you look so good in blue.” Closing his eyes and repeating in his head that this was for him and Pete he locked his lips on hers letting the combination of the mixture of his and Pete’s blood flow into the open cut on her lips. He pulled back smirking the spell was complete.

The fire started to rise and she started to screech. “What did you do to me?”

“Killed you with the power of love sweetheart now if you don’t mind I’m washing my mouth with soap and going home to bang my husband until the sun rises. Toodles!”

"See Ashlee i would say thanks for the memories even though they weren't that great but Pete tastes like you only sweeter...much much sweeter."

Once he was back on the ground with Pete no words were exchanged just  strong embrace. After a moment Patrick spoke up in his low, husky voice. “Can I take you home Pete?”

“Do you have to ask Trick?”

With a flash of blue they disappeared just as Ashlee turned to dust.

Pete was laying in his and Patrick’s bed naked minus his boxers and glanced at the bathroom door where he could see his husband also naked minus his boxers and undershirt. “Trick…you’re going to scrub your teeth away you’ve brushed them about twenty times. Not to mention how many times you washed your face..”

“I DON’T CARE THAT WAS VILE!”

[cowboyshit]

@adampage tumblr did a dumbass thing and messed up the read-more to where I couldn’t put it under one so I had to delete your ask and I’m making a separate post for this disaster of a ramble hoooo boy i hope you’re ready for what you’ve unleashed

adampage  asked: ma’am I know you’re high off your rocker but if you have time would you please critique hangman’s playlist for me bc I want to know your thoughts 🥰 anyway yeehaw

OH MY GOD yes???? yes I fucking WILL?????? let’s just pump the breaks on what i was doing right the fuck now, get his playlist in front of me (even though ive been listening to it nonstop and have so many things to ALREADY SAY) and talk about this shit. im sorry if this isn’t coherent im pry just gonna ramble. (edit to add now that I’m done: ITS FREAKING 3252 WORDS LONG LMAO OH MY GOD)

first and foremost. I Love It. let’s just slap that down. get that out of the way. ITS SO GOOD. SO FUCKING GOOD. also this is going under a readmore cause YEAH. it’s THAT LONG.

let’s start first with mr. adam ‘i taught graphic design when i was 20 and learned adobe illustrator and photoshop to design my own tshirts when i was an indie wrestler’ page’s cover image. wait. no. back up - look at the profile image he chose for his profile. it’s not a selfie. it’s not a picture he snapped with his camera. it’s a screenshot of the “has been drinking” moment on aew dynamite. what a lovable FOOL. he really saved that and put that as his profile pic im skjdfkjfd okay now swing back to the anxious millenial design with the signed hangman adam page for the cover. he designed that. I swear he did. I swear he did that. I could be wrong but I just feel it in my bones. that was him. also, THAT should have been the vintage shirt. cowboy shit is cute but ANXIOUS MILLENNIAL COWBOY? I NEED THAT AS THE SHIRT!

okay now let’s get into the songs. wait. before i go through it I do want to say something about the playlist overall.

I can’t decide if this is because he shares so many similarities to the character hangman adam page, but so many of these songs apply to his character like, this fucking playlist plays like a hangman adam page THE CHARACTER playlist. like this is the playlist i’d find on 8tracks back when that was the “thing” in fandom where every song makes me go “OMG THAT IS THAT CHARACTER” like. I don’t know if he did that purposefully as an extension of the character? or if it just happens to line up because of how similar he is and his story is to his character but SOME of these songs wooooo boy they get deep dont they? when you compare them to the character?

okay. songs.

so I know some of these, especially the classics, summertime of course, but for the ones I didn’t know I love them so much. they have such a vibe that just fits him, and they’re all so good???

rather low by nick shoulders is one I didn’t know and I fucking LOVE it. and look. it goes from Long Time Gone by the Dixie Chicks. Long Time Gone about being away from the country life, from home and if my THEORY is right about this playlist hitting the character, hangman is struggling with being lost, without a family. it goes from that to rather low, which talks about not being welcome at home. like “I told you once I told you twice, I’m steeped in verse and cursed in vice” ajdskjds GOOD lyrics. beat slaps. song slaps. I love it.

okay so we go roll on mississippi which is soft compared to the two upbeat songs that just hit us before. calms you down after that high energy beat rather low had. lets you breathe. AND it’s got a sad, soft, longing pull to it, falling in with more of those “lost” from home themes. “You're the childhood dream that I grew up on. Roll on Mississippi, carry me home. Now I can see I've been away too long.” UGH! and also, it’s just a good fucking song.

then we go to a song i haven’t heard and love, going places by aubrie sellers. it’s a little bit funkier, but still soft. also groovy as FUCK. and it obv talks about GOING places. so maybe the first three songs were about the home he’s left behind, but now it’s about where he’s going. and man this song just SLAPS.

A CLASSIC is next, 1970 something illegal smile by john prine. it has that classic soft croon, such a good country sound and it’s a little bit playful. it makes you wanna smile and sway back and forth. it’s a good song. fun. but it’s almost a little bit. dark? “ Won't you please tell the man I didn't kill anyone. No, I'm just tryin' to have me some fun. Well, I sat down in my closet with all my overalls, tryin' to get away from all the ears inside my walls. I dreamed the police heard everything I thought, what then?” it just makes me think of when his character “killed” joey ryan. I could be looking too far into it but, that’s what popped into my head.

OKAY NOW this next one. fuck yeah I DIG this song. I hadn’t heard this song and it quickly went into my liked songs. and if we’re following his character, the lyrics hit HARD. “ I've lost the will to try this worthless lullaby. Its melody won't fly me past oblivion. I bet it would be nice to find that paradise, a world of sparkling light beyond the setting sun. But I don't dream anymore” ugh !!!!!!! UGGGHH!! SO GOOD?? and even the slight upbeat to it. “would if I could but I don’t dream anymore” uuuuggghhh SO GOOD. love this song. one of my faves of the whole list for sure.

the next two back-to-back are CLASSICS and fit the hangman adam page character so damn perfect. i’ve even looked at lyrics from merle haggard’s i don’t want to sober up to night for adam in the past akjfdkjdsf it’s fucking perfect. and then followed by dwight yoakam’s honky tonk man?! amazing. we go from from fucking heart-wrenching lyrics if you think about them for him: “ I don't want to sober up tonight. I don't want to act like things are alright, and I don't want to change just to make you think I'm happy. That's my right, I don't want to sober up tonight. I want to keep my mind a little hazy. I don't care if all my friends think I'm crazy. The way I treat myself I might be a little crazy But that's alright, I don't want to sober up tonight. I'm here to drown another day of misery. I'm in here to spend one night without a mem'ry and the way I'm drinking now there won't be any memory. But it's alright, I don't want to sober up tonight” to HONKY TONK MAN. HONKY. TONK. MAN. “ Well I'm a honky tonk man and I can't seem to stop. I love to give the girls a whirl to the music of an old jukebox, but when my money's all gone, I'm on the telephone singing, hey hey mama can your daddy come home?” ajhsdjksdjkf like. look. partying hangman, drunk, swinging a girl around in the country bar???? cause he refused to sober up and just wanted to have fun? anyways regardless if there’s a connection or if im reaching, these are some good classics to pull out right here. honky tonk man will ALWAYS bring the party back up.

another song I didn’t know but now love? happy reunion by colter wall? this is a good freaking cowboy song??? and it’s a cute story???? about what a cowboy does during his day??? what the fuck? riding along the range with his dog, helping the cow, getting the calf back that’d gotten lost???? CUTE? anyways this is a vibin as HELL song and if it’d come out when I was still raising cows my ass woulda been blasting this shit as I drove to feed the herd for SURE. this song is a whole ass vibe and I’m digging it.

okay. walk through fire by yola? another i didn’t know (which - so far it seems all the songs that arent classics - spare dixie chicks - are from 2019) and I am obsessed with???? it’s so good? and fuck just such a good love song??? “Standing on the side of the river. Staring across the great divide. I'd give all my gold and silver just to get to the other side. Your love is like a rescue vessel, carries me through the night through these flames of destruction. I know you're gonna make it right. I know, I know you're gonna save my life.“ LIKE? HENLO????????? FUCK!!!! THATS SO GOOD. that whole song I could post all the lyrics tbh. and the way she CROONS it ugh. yeah. I love that song.

FUCKIN YES. DOLLY FUCKIN PARTON. youre not gonna make a country playlist and not include a dolly parton song boy i KNOW IT. and the song choice??? hm? remind you of a CERTAIN COWBOYS STRUGGLE WITH NOT HAVING A HOME???? “What difference does it make which way I go, got an empty feelin' down inside. Still I need to stay alive and who can tell what waits beyond this road. I'm a drifter” ajdfshjsd god I love dolly. and of COURSE he does too. i’m so pleased by this choice I can’t stop smiling. ugh. love this. love dolly.

sandpaper oneside, rubber other by the bobby tenderloin universe what do you know? another 2019 song I didn’t know and yet absolutely LOVE. I also am loving how he does a mix of classics with newer (but still almost classic-country sounding, maybe like. classic meets modern) country music in this playlist. AND WHAT A SONG. it’s so good? and again, just makes me think of the character. “there are two minds inside me. that’s one life too many. but i keep moving slow on both sides, strong as I can be.” tell me that doesnt make you think of hangman adam page. and it has such a... sad vibe. “i cant believe the things i am. as much a lion as a lamb” !!!!!!!!!!! ugh such a GOOD LINE. THAT SLAPS. LOVE THAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ugh this song. especially the back vocals of the woman that comes in later on? it’s like. ethereal. beautiful. fucking beautiful and almost haunting. paired with the sad lyrics? UGH. gorgeous.

long white line by sturgill simpson i do know and LOVE and it’s got a fun, uplifting cowboy beat following the more slow, sad croon of the last song. it’s SO COUNTRY. the way it’s sung? SO COUNTRY. and also ajdfskjsd adam. “I woke up my baby was gone without her I don't need no home” and “Gonna' push this rig 'til I push that girl out of my mind. If somebody wants to know what's become of this so and so tell em' I'm somewhere looking for the end of that long white line” kjdjkfdkjf this is just such a country song, and it fits SO well, especially after that previous pick.

now we go from two new songs to another classic. another (i think) 1970s country hit. lonesome, on’ry and mean is SUCH a classic country song. it has that good old sound, and the story it tells too. and just, I can’t stop thinking about hangman just “ Been driving these highways, been doing things my way. It's been making me lonesome on'ry and mean.” ajdskjflkf it’s fair to say that character IS lonesome, on’ry and mean right now. anyways, fun country song regardless and I DIG the addition.

okay back to a newer song and holy shit. this is my personal favorite of the new songs he introduced me to. this song I LOVE this song. fuuun FUN beat, makes me want to fucking GROOVE. I love love love this, and I love the way the singer sings? it just makes me wanna UGH. just wanna sway to it. the whine in the croon I just love. and the BEAT. the beat is so fucking good. and the lyrics? “I'm that wholesome Midwestern boy that you want to bring home to your mama. Even though I bring you joy, baby I'm not the toy you wanna play with at night. Too many things I've seen. Too many people and places I've been. I'm thinking about doing those things I shouldn't be doing. Something I've never done before. I want something to fuck me up. Need somebody to fuck me up. Everyone feels like it. Fuck me up, fuck me up, fuck me up” ajdsjkds I LOVE THIS SONG SO MUCH “Well I might go and get drunk and stoned 'cause it's better than being only crazy. If I ever come back, wherever I end up at is where I was supposed to be.” it’s so perfect for his character it drives me crazy. this is a song I’d listen to and first, groove to, and then be like THIS SONG IS HANGMAN. love this song. absolutely a favorite.

the next song though. the next song. fucking hangman adam page and his love of biscuits. southern biscuits by seasick steve oh. my. god. this BOY. THIS COUNTRY BOY. THIS BISCUIT LOVIN COUNTRY BOY. this is such a damn good addition. not only is it so fucking country, almost. spoken/sung? the soft hum with the fucking banjo??? and of COURSE of course he knows and loves this song I can’t with him. and it hits you with the: “ Southern biscuits, nothin' better in the world 'less they're made for you, by your southern girl.” and I go UWU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

two new songs so guess what? classic time. BALANCE. HE’S KEEPING BALANCE. I swear he’s done this purposefully and I could be crazy I could be giving him more credit than is due but I swear he’s picked the arrangement of songs too. because this is too coincidental. so, we’ve got our classic livin on the run by david allan coe. what a DARK song to go with. about a man who murders a woman and lives on the run (again, can’t help but think of the joey ryan murder thing, but hey. that’s just me grasping for straws) regardless if it ties or not, it’s a good classic and it’s fun to croon to even if its uh. dark but sung like. upbeat? almost???

okay, another classic and, to me, one of the sexiest songs on this playlist. I fucking love this song. it’s sexy with an underlying of dark. she literally seduces and knocks the guy out and robs him blind and he’s STILL craving her summer wine like. this song is SO GOOD. so fucking good. the way the music swells with the storytelling is beautiful. “Strawberries cherries and an angel's kiss in spring, my summer wine is really made from all these things. Take off your silver spurs and help me pass the time, and I will give to you summer wine” is just so ajkdfskjdfs ugh i love this song

and guess what? two classics so we’re swinging to a newer song. left turn on a red light by blackfoot. oof. I didn’t know this song and it hit me, it’s so good and I know im saying that about all of them but Honestly. “ Sun shines down on the desert, and it seems to make my life a haze, and I dream of my childhood sweetheart,and the freedom that I had in those days.” UGH. “ Will I always be a rambler? Will the ones I love always keep tellin' me, "You stare too long in the mirror, son, someday you'll be too blind to see.” HELLO???? those lyrics? SO GOOD. and again applying them to hangman just makes me FERAL SCREAM.

cowboys and hippies by cody jinks is such a hangman song it’s almost unreal. if I was going to REALLY reach I’d say it almost reminds me of the way the crowd pulls him back. “At some old honkytonk bar that I know by the smell, some old drunk on a barstool on a Merle Haggard tune. That's my kind of room. Raising hell with the hippies and the cowboys. They don't care about no trends, they don't care about songs that sell. Yeah, tomorrow I'll be gone, so tonight everybody just sing along, raising hell with the hippies and the cowboys” GOOD LYRICS. this has the same sad undertones too as a lot of these songs have too.

ugh. I love him sincerely for this next one. blue skies is one of my favorite songs, but blue skies by willie nelson? YES. my grandpa used to play willie nelson ALL THE TIME and I love this version. an uplifting song to follow the heavier songs. I’d like to think of a hangman who has the blue skies from now on. all of his blue days gone. this song is such a classic (cover) that just. good pick. I love this.

alright, so we’ve got a classic but he’s chosen the version from bojack horseman which makes me think that might’ve been the first time he heard it, but that’s neither here nor there. stars is a BEAUTIFUL song. and boy am I happy we had blue skies before this cause fuck. how sad? how emotional?????? “People lust for fame like athletes in a game, we break our collarbones and come up swinging, some of us are downed some of us are crowned, and some are lost and never found” fuck. fuck fuck fuck. and the last two lines, thinking about hangman? “So if you don't lose patience with my fumbling around, I'll come up singing for you, even when I'm down.” FUCK. my HEART. good pick but OUCH. good but ow.

summertime by orville peck is next BLESS finally an orville song I was gonna lose it on him if he put a playlist and DIDN’T include an orville song. interesting though he went with summertime, the newest, and not any of the ones off pony. but! it follows stars well. its soft, lull, and the lyrics are so hangman now that I put it in this context. “Catch 'em by surprise and chasin' the horizon, nothing holds me down. Askin', "Where the time's gone?" Dreamin' with the lights on, tryna keep your eyes on something along the rise" anyways I know YOU know this song well it’s so fucking good. has that same soft pull a lot of these songs have. the way that chorus swells though? the secondary vocals??? ugh. yeah this was a great choice, I’m glad he went with summertime. it fits the vibe of this playlist so well.

we’re ending on a song with such a country sound to it (i mean all of these do), a bit more upbeat, a bit more funky. “Some say I'm a wild man, drink too much nectar from the corn” and also “Oh the school, it wasn't for me. I earned my stripes a different way I learned to sing harmony and go play out on the stage” definitely makes me think of hangman for SURE. it’s a funky song to end on, and if you keep listening to the playlist on repeat like I do, it even falls into long time gone really well.

and of course this is assuming you’re meant to listen to them one after the other and not on shuffle. I’m sure it still works on shuffle but I LOVE the flow of this playlist listening to it one after the other.

love this whole playlist. and my identifying it with the character could TOTALLY be reaching, but of course I’m going to think of him and analyze his selection of *these* songs specifically to put out to all of us. out of EVERY song he likes. he didn’t include... hmm cowboy take me away, for example? shoulda been a cowboy??? the vibe of the overall playlist FITS “anxious millenial cowboy” it has an underbelly of sadness to it. and I dig the fuck out of that.

overall 10/10 I love this fucking playlist thank you goodnight

[cieloxcnco]

una y otra vez - part 5 (richard)

parte cinco part one / part two / part three / part four

Words: 6,300+

Warnings: pretty much all smut and angst. modeled after a period of time with my on-and-off ex who everyone hates, so you might hate my fictional Richard after this.. PLEASE NOTE that this part has some sensitive elements that might be uncomfortable. I don’t want to give spoilers, but just please proceed with caution.

A/N: so i thought part 4 kind of made things full circle. some people told me they didn’t feel it was a real ending and wanted to know what happened next. so this is one of the last interactions I had with my ex, modeled into our favorite Dominican. I apologize for how dizzy this might make you. I know it definitely did the same to me, then and now.

I was never going to be here again.                I shouldn’t be here.                                                           I’m always the one waiting.                                                           I’m sure it makes me look desperate.                                                                          Am I?                                                                          Absolutely.

All of this is a secret Everyone knows about my him and never wanted me to see him again                           So I was making them proud by pretending that I was better off without him. But I’m sitting here waiting for him.                                                        Again.

I lied to everyone about where I had to go I lied to my friends and said I was seeing family I lied to my family and said I was seeing friends I lied to myself and said this would be the best thing for me                                                             closure With something that had cut this deep, is there such a thing?                                                                                                 Doubt it.

It’s been three years since I had last been next to him I was clean and sober from his touch for three fucking years.                                                                 three                                                                          fucking                                                                                       years.

And of course, that wasn’t my decision                         He fell into one of those spells where he put all his energy into her                                     instead of me                                                            and he always came back to me                                                                        always                                                             but this time he didn’t.

maybe too much hadn't been said that had needed to be maybe their marriage strengthened and he lost interest in the silly girl that couldn’t let him go maybe he’d forgotten about me maybe I’d drowned in my own sorrow at some point and this was what death in limbo felt like

But I am about to relapse      I am waiting for it      It was going to thrill      It was going to hurt                                            but I want it so much that I don’t care about the consequences

But this was going to heal my heart                                                          At least that was the plan on the surface. But with him, nothing ever went according to plan                      this wasn’t going to be different.

Life had gone on                            I couldn’t stop it                            I wanted to                                               not put and end to it but                                               just pause it and hit resume when it got better Sometimes end it. That might have been easier.                                                                  better than being haunted by the what ifs what if we’d had our baby                           our life together                   gotten married            everything had just been different

He was an ever present character in my nightmares and my daydreams He was trapped in my mind Or was I trapped in his control

Our baby was my secret                       my burden alone                weighed on my every decision and thought Awake or asleep, I only thought about our baby and how life would have been different He and I had gotten back into bed our fair share of times after I lost the baby                                                       But I began turning in on myself               angry at the one person I never imagined I could be He wouldn’t have been there if I’d had the baby                             He’d made me promise                                                                      Bullshit. You both made a baby.                                                                      And he wouldn’t have fucking cared.                                                                      He didn’t deserve to know. My friends would have given up on me                  unable to continue to play the same broken record My family would have turned on me                 unable to support the mistake that came from him                                                                 like everyone said would happen

Everyone would be more disappointed in me than I already was in myself

so it was quiet no grieving no ache no outward showing of the pain                           when the pain was all I ever felt I was used to wearing a mask of a smile when I was with him                                        Now it was just all the time

No one would understand this feeling but me No one would know what it was like to lose the life you’d planned out perfectly No one would empathize with the sudden vacancy your heart felt                                         over something you never even held in your arms

So I carried it alone                                because no one would get it                                                           especially not him

In the time I’ve been away from him I’ve become a shell of a person empty without him our family our life like we’d imagined

Then he messaged me A normal Wednesday as if no time had passed at all. Hey. No. Nonononono. I was over you. I was trying to be. You can't suck me in again. I was almost free. And I’m practically a puddle at your feet again. Knowing you’re reaching out               that you must want contact                                               I'm weak. But that’s it? Hey?        That’s all you can come up with after all this time?      I struggled against the urge to immediately answer and gave him more opportunity to elaborate                        but the what ifs come out to play                                    what if he’s just seeing if you’ll still speak to him                                    what if he won’t say anything more until you do                                    what if this is about to change everything                        but you’re about to fuck it up by being proud and stubborn? Hey.

I miss you. I knew he’d come back to this. Immediately with just one initial word that it would come back to this.

Every possible response tapped into the keyboard                                        I miss you too.                                        Go to hell.                                        Why are you doing this?                                        You’re an asshole.                                        I wish I could hate you.                                                                                I think about you all the time.                                                                                I fucking wish I could hate you.                                        You still miss me? You haven’t showed it.                                        Why should I miss you when you’ve broken my heart so many times? before deleting each one and saying nothing.

And for once, I didn’t need to continue the conversation He carried it I know I’ve hurt you           but I can’t get you off my mind.                                Can we meet to talk?

I scoffed and all the overthinking I had done for my last almost-answer went out the window Talk? We never talk.                                  I know what talking means, Richard.

After hitting send I immediately regretted being so sharp         He’d be upset and he wouldn’t try to reconnect                       Did I want him to? He doesn’t deserve it. I didn’t care. I missed him too much to care.

And then his reply.                               I know. But I mean it this time.      I really miss you                                   and there’s a lot we need to talk about. Please.             Public. No pressure about us being alone and being physical. You feel uncomfortable, you leave. But please give us the chance to talk.

Public? I scoffed. Are you sure that would be smart?

It’ll be safer for both of us. Alone there’s always temptation. But this isn’t about what we always do. This is about clearing the air.

This would let go of all the hurt                                          ache                                          pain                                          tension

It would be the period at the end of a run on sentence It would be the end we needed. It would bring me peace.

And that convinced me enough to type in two letters I had sworn I never would again.

O K

That was last week                                And here I am, alone at a food court table                                                         in an outlet mall halfway between both our homes                                compromise                                                         with my back to the door

He said he would meet me now             Will he really be here any moment                                  or almost an hour late as always?

I hear a Camila song over the speakers like the radio knows what I’m feeling It’s amazing that you relate to lyrics better when you’re hurting

Tú llegaste a mi vida para enseñarme, Tú supiste encenderme y luego apagarme, Tú, te hiciste indispensable para mi

I don’t want to see when he comes in           I’m shaking with the possibilities in my mind. The what ifs are too much and too many to process

What do I tell him What do I keep to myself What if he wants to try us again What if he tries to reel me back in What if he wants to apologize            but then let me go Will this hurt worse Will this solve anything Will going back to this after so many years clean from him Is this like an addict relapsing How am I crawling back to him like a lovesick puppy Wasn’t I stronger than this Wasn’t I supposed to let my past stay behind me What if overthinking this kills me before he even gets here

I check my watch every other question                             as if the time will have gone by faster                             when it only crawls by I keep listening lowly                             hearing the doors swing open                             alert for approaching footsteps but nothing yet

still anxious breaths

Llegas cuando estoy a punto de olvidarte           Busca tu camino en otra parte Mientras busco el tiempo que perdí               Y hoy estoy mejor sin ti. I try to ingest the idea through the melody and absorb the strength

The door creaks open                I almost feel his presence                                     on the breeze that blows inside

I know he’s here                   finally here I can feel him behind me                       watching me from the entrance I busy myself on my phone   refuse to let him know that I’m so easily at his feet anymore                                       I’ve barely inhaled his cologne and I know I’m going to regret this The adrenaline rushing through me at the thought of his smile is worth it

Hey, he chuckles from behind me                             not realizing what such a simplistic word has done to the pit of my stomach.         I nod lowly and attempt a smile.         My eyes are fixated on the table.         I can’t speak yet.                              I’m glad you came, he whispers.         I still don’t know what to say so I look down as he sets his hands on the table and sits.

How’ve you been? he asks, tapping his fingertips against the tabletop.                               He doesn’t care.                                                           Remember he doesn’t care.                               He’s asking about you and how you were without him.                                                           Of course he cares.                               It’ll protect you from getting hurt again.                                                           He loves you. Don’t be a bitch.

Okay, I shrug. I don’t know what else to say.                        I’ve been awful                        I’ve been backwards and upside down.                        I’ve been on the edge of a cliff and come back                                                  all from memories and thoughts of me with you.                        How can you wonder how I’ve been?                    If what we had was real                                                           how can you possibly think I’ve been anything but shattered?

You look good, he whispers.                         Are we really going to be those people right now?                         So much time has passed it has to be ‘you look good’.                         Or maybe he meant it that he’s already admiring my body                         And he’s only back for one thing                                                              that I would so willingly give him just to have him that close again                                                              even for just a moment my heart and my skin want him so much closer               but my mind wants nothing more than to watch him go back out that door                                                                                                 leave

He can sense my hesitation. Are you okay?                                              Stupid question                                              Stupid fucking question                                                                                      are you kidding? I won’t say it aloud but                                    No. The last thing I am when it comes to you is ‘okay’. But he sighs. I know you’re not.                     I know why you came here.                     And I want to make this right. A man who is so sincerely trying           who knows me           who cares about my feelings           has to love me. He has to.                                          had to?                                          has to.

I’m glad you wanted to talk, he continues.            I feel like we never got the ending we deserved.                                                       Ending? That’s because I don’t know how to end us.                                     How do you end everything you’ve ever dreamed?                                     How do you let the addiction go when it feels so fucking good                                                                                         when you know you’ll be useless without a fix

    I don’t know what I’m going to say                                                            but I look up.

Mistake.              His chocolate eyes catch mine and I’m breathless His fingers are flexing up and down against the tabletop                                    the way they used to raise as they traced over my hips His knuckles are graced with more ink since the last time my hands were in his              Those tattoos are like a map home                                     guiding me back to where I belong                                                                 in his arms

Fool, stop thinking that’s where you should be         you’re here to end it for good                            to get better beyond him My confident demeanor from the way over is gone                            I’ll never get beyond him                                           but here’s to trying

I’ve been doing nothing but thinking of you, he murmurs. He is probably lying         telling me all my heart needs to hear      could be telling the truth

Going through all this with her, he continues,                                                 made me think about all you and I had. Rumors had reached me about his separation from the bitch               and I guess this confirmed them               but this also could be his ticket to sex if she’s not giving it to him. I’m always the back-up plan. Always.                   But We were so good together               and I gave it up for something I felt was better at the time      but it was us, baby. It was always us.

I don’t realize I’ve been holding my breath until my head starts hurting my chest was already so tight with anxiety that I hadn’t felt the lack of air

But my words come out vicious in an attempt to not seem as fragile as I feel. I wasn’t enough. You scarred me for years                          because I always thought I wasn’t enough.                          Nothing about me was enough for you.

You were more than enough, baby, he insists. Baby.          I close my eyes and shudder I just didn’t see it        didn’t appreciate it when I had the chance I hate that it’s too late now. That numb feeling in my chest is gone                              replaced with the sharp sting from his words.                       too late                       too late

I’m being selfish, he admits.                            I’m worried about saying how I’ve been feeling                            But I just                                  I’ve never loved anyone the way I loved you                                                  Loved. Past tense.                            But I’ve also never hurt anyone the way I’ve hurt you                                         And I want to tell you how sorry I am

W- What?

They say when it's too good to be true                                                             it probably is                but this is everything I’ve always needed to hear                how                                                             he can’t really mean it but his eyes       he does       he means every word       his heart is hurting       maybe as much as mine is                                                             no, that's impossible. He had other women                                                                                                who weren't YOU                                                                                                in his arms every night to make it better                                                             he can’t be hurting                                                             he doesn’t know what hurt is.                                                             He’ll never know how he hurt me But he wants to                                Am I legitimately arguing with myself                                is this what a split personality feels like                                has he made me so psychotic that                                I’ve just lost my mind completely?

And I don’t realize I’ve said it out loud What?

You only ever wanted to do everything to be with me                                   to make it work                                                                                     and I took it for granted. It took me a while to look back on it and realize                                                         you were everything I needed                                                 and I used you

He cant really be saying this.              I have to be dreaming                                  hallucinating I’ve been alone in these thoughts                          for                               ten                                     years He can pretend to know how this hurts                          but it’s sympathy                                      not empathy

Years, I finally seethe.           It took you how many years to figure that out?

He gnaws on his lip                 Baby       my nerves stand on end at the endearment                 I’ve never seen you this upset                 And I know you’re hurt                 But can we try to just talk gently to get through this?

I inhale deeply and sigh it out to try and comply

His fingers dance idly on the brim of his fitted cap If this is the last time we’re going to see each other and we’re going to try to move on we need to be civil and get on the same page.

I swallow the lump in my throat                I knew what the intention was                I had tried to idealize the same thought                                 but it hurts to hear it We were never good with the things we intended We intended to just try to be friends and wound up tangled in each other’s arms We intended to just go out for a drink and wound up naked in his bed We intended to let go for good and wound up seeing each other again

But this was finality This would be the end This was it

It can't just be that you didn’t see it, I continue I gave you literally everything of me But it was never enough to be what you wanted

I tried to change              fix what wasn’t perfect So you’d want me. You always told me you loved me                              but you didn’t want me so there had to be something wrong with me.

You used me                      for comfort                      for convenience                      for sex whenever and however you wanted it and I upended my life to make you happy and it wasn’t enough.                                        Why?

There is silence enough for me to know                          that there is no reason                                              no solid answer                                              no explanation as to why                             and this is not going to be the closing of a chapter.                                    this will only be a cliffhanger with unanswered questions

I’m sorry.               I was selfish.               I am selfish.               I knew you’d always be there                          and would give me whatever I wanted          so I took that plus some from anyone else

But I couldn’t stay away from you      No matter how much I tried to stay away from you                                                      stop taking advantage I couldn’t let you go                                I can’t ever let you go                                          I don’t know what it is

I try to stop my eyes from scrolling up the length of the pictures inked into his arms           concentrate on my breathing I miss him holding me                                    Breathing in. I want to cry                                    Holding it in. Will this make him change?              Can he fix the so we could make this work?                                    Breathing out.

I shouldn’t be saying half of this, he muses pitifully to himself.                 It’s not reasoning.                 It’s excusing.  Nothing can excuse the way I’ve treated you.

He nearly stammers as he tries to speak again                                 I’ve never seen him so unnerved.                                 I’m kind of empowered by it. For once, I’m not the one made weak by us being in the presence of the other. I’m sorry. You never deserved all I’ve put you through. You stayed there while I went from woman to woman                   when all you wanted was to love me. I’m so sorry.

The words start pouring out along with my heavy exhale. I was so angry I was sad at first                        but realizing you had this whole other life                                                                                     lie                                             that didn’t include me, I hated you                  I tried to at least                 I couldn't forever but for a long time I tried so hard to hate you                 So I couldn’t tell you.

I refuse to look up and meet his eyes but I know his expression has faltered Tell me what?

I bite my lip, hesitating                                     I hadn’t meant for that part to escape me                    but this is it                          this is the last time                          this is getting everything off my chest                                    clearing my conscience                     but the promise you made                           you told him you’d handle it if you got pregnant                           you’d do it alone                     maybe he’ll be happy you listened and you’ll be enough for him now                     maybe he’ll actually care and you won’t feel so sad all alone                     maybe he won’t care at all and the pain of that will be worse than any of this

The last time we were together                      you went back to her                                              and I didn’t want to tell you It fucking killed me but I didn’t tell you And my words trail off again into silence How do I form that sort of suffering into mere syllables

Babe, tell me what?           I shiver. Babe?                                    Meant with our basic familiarity, sure.                                    But such proximity implied that it set me alight                                    when I still didn’t know if I wanted to burn for him.

I was pregnant. I didn’t watch his face but I heard his jaw fall slack I wasn’t even into my second trimester and I lost the baby.

his knuckles go white as he grips his hands together tight and all I can do is memorize the designed lines on his hands                             remember how good their grasp felt on my waist                             holding my hand tight                             caressing my face                             tossing my hand away to avoid suspicion                             brushing me away so I wouldn't be seen touching him how am I still aching for the fix of that contact when it was always so fragile and fleeting? but the times when he did was so                             GOD                             I want it                             I miss it                             How am I going to live without it? I’m better off emotionally                             but can I really survive without being next to him?                             The last few years were impossible                             I wanted to forget him                             but he was all that I had in my mind every day                             This was all I knew                             all that would ever have me                             all that I could ever love and love me in return

I’d had it all in my hands and it slipped away in an instant

On purpose? he whispers

And all the fantasy of him loving me again goes out the window. I want to rip him in half.                    Of course not                    All I wanted was that baby                    I couldn’t have you, I wanted a family                    I was at work and I just miscarried. I don’t know. I feel my face tighten in fury                    How could you ever think-

I’m sorry, he interrupts.                I thought for a moment if you were that angry                                that you could have ended it just to spite me

I can’t answer           I can understand his thought He just doesn’t know how wrong he is                                  how I would have given anything                                                                         everything                                                                         to make that dream real And the tears just fall from my eyes.

He reaches for my hands across the table. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.                   I know I said that a baby would have been impossible But with you, I would have been there                                                   involved Don’t cry, amor, he begs. at the sound or the idea             of amor, I break down further.

He’s quiet for far too long The only sound I make are my shallow sobs He rubs circles against the back of my hand with his thumb                         to soothe me                                               but it chills me.

Was it ever really love, I gasp.            It was for me, but was it for you?

The lack of an immediate yes almost says everything but do you know how much trust you have to have in someone to fall back into their arms every time someone does you wrong?

His words escape him slowly and I wonder if he’s struggling due to pain                            or calculating what to say to win me. I’ve felt more for you than I’ve ever felt for anyone                      but I’ve also never hurt anyone more than I’ve hurt you

I can’t take that back           but I can tell you what I feel                   and tell you I’m sorry I just want you to be happy         I’ve never been good enough for you          I’m never going to be good enough for you So I want to help you end this in a way that you can move on

Yes, you’ve always been more emotionally attached than I was We know I’m not great with feelings               That doesn’t mean I didn’t love you               That doesn’t mean I don’t love you I just know we can’t be together I want better for you I want you to have what you deserve I’m just sorry that it cant be us together.

Then do you regret us ever being together at all? I say it before I could think  wish my mouth could swallow the words back

He studies the lines in my knuckles                  how white they’ve gone in my clammy grip. I’m ready to tell him to forget I mentioned it. But. Just because we didn’t work out       doesn’t mean you’re not the best thing                                                             that has ever happened to me. You made me better.                                  But I broke you down. I just want you to grow beyond this  because you deserve more than what I did to you.

No words are left     Nothing is left This was supposed to soothe the wound                                                but it’s reopened it and poured salt in

Now that we’ve talked about it                                   do you feel better? The question sounds like the best of intentions                                  but I can tell he seeks relief                                  of the pressure of responsibility.

I’d been so strong             so vocal             so determined                              and I crumble                              and I instinctively lie. Yeah, definitely.

I just need him to hold me again                             kiss me like he means it                             pull me against him                             enclose my hand in his                             tell me he does love me                                         instead of delicately choosing is words

I don’t know how ill he must have made me                               to have me want to tear myself apart inside                               but also have him make love to me                                                            one last time.

Drained from the tears and emotions that flowed from me I had to clean up Let me go to the bathroom, I whisper                 a nervous smile probably seeming too genuine He nods with a mirrored grin and watches me walk away               the only bathroom available a handicapped family restroom                        a large room designed for space with strollers and wheelchairs but                                              brought so much more to mind But no. He said no. We can’t. It’s done. I shut the door. Not pressing in the button to lock. Maybe subconsciously on purpose.

My head is in the sink                                    splashing the water flow into my face   ��           and all of a sudden he’s behind me. I don’t know why you put so much effort into trying to be beautiful, he whispers                           You’re already perfect.

I laugh at his obvious lie because            I’m a mess.

It took no more than a fraction of a breath for him to be against me           his hands on my hips           pulling me against him If I had started to let this go, it's all over now.                      I’m gone.                      I need this.

You’re not a mess                 You’re perfect                                        in every way I’m just sorry it took me this long to realize it,                                                                    what I’ll be missing out on.                     And now what?

Now what                 Now what The thought is racing around in my mind                  Now?                             It’s done There’s no ‘Now what’ like anything could lead to more                   but he’s touching me

And he’s kissing the side of my neck        my head is lolling to the opposite side        the bumps under my skin are rising to the surface And I have to be dreaming                           but you don’t feel fire like this in your dreams

Baby, I hiss, my hands flying back to clutch his wrists for support           He nips at my skin and I know that’s a sign to shut up           I roll my body into the feeling What else could I say?                 My thoughts are racing too fast for me to catch them                                      And all I want is to scream out for him                                                                                  in warning                                                                                  in pleasure                                                                                  in protest                                                                                  in excitement

this   is     wrong

you just let go you talked it out you let it all out of your system this is supposed to be the end

but how fitting for us                       to have one more raunchy, hidden fuck                                                    before it was all over

I don’t want to be without you           So give me one last memory of how good it feels                                                          to be inside you

My mind flashes to the movie I’d watched with friends the week before                                Leonardo DiCaprio as the Wolf of Wall Street               and right before his wife says she’s done with him for good                                         she tells him to fuck her like it was the last time                                                              to give it to her like he’d never get to again

And the thought crosses my mind                           to try to maintain whatever upper hand i thought I had

I don’t have her willpower or strength that she did                                         to force the ending I miss him too much to push him away I still need as much of him as he will allow me

He’s not allowing much        flipping our hands quickly so he’s gripping my wrists        taking both in the large grip of one palm and works at the button of my jeans with another

I’d worn them on purpose                      No easy access He had said public for safety and to avoid this possibility                               but I knew our repertoire far too well to fully believe it So I got dressed this morning thinking this was best                                                              that if something like this happened                                                                     it would take concerted effort to undo                                                       and I could think it through before making this mistake

there’s no thinking happening                 like when something passes by so quickly you can’t even see it ideas racing so fast I can’t grasp onto any                     but his lips are now kissing up my spine as he’s pushing up my shirt                    and my pants are around my knees                    and he’s rubbing the head of his dick over the damp patch of my panties So wet for me, mama, he groans. Como siempre. Lo nuestro se esta acabando                                               pero siempre te pensarás en mi. No me crees pero te quiero tanto                             te amo tanto

I need it to drag out                                 I need this to last But now he’s already just moving my underwear to the side               and sliding the tip of his cock over my folds but avoiding my clit tells me that this is going to be over as quickly as it began Daddy dámelo, I hiss, knowing that will bring him to the edge                                                               make this rougher                                                               drive him closer to losing his mind                                                               give me the intensity I'm anticipating

But I’m wrong       He crouches down behind me       His tongue touches my clit and I’m reaching for any bit of the faucet for stability            Oh God, Daddy, I nearly scream                                       biting my lip                                       grinding my hips against his face                                       more                                       more                             i want more                               need more

Taste so good, baby          so fucking good, mama His tongue toys with me and I’m trying to keep my balance                                              I bite into my arm to keep from yelling                                       and all of a sudden I’m vacant                                       and he’s standing                                       and the tip of his cock is tracing where his tongue just was

Gonna fuck you so good, mamita, he breathes out, you're going to think of nothing but me for weeks You want this to be done but                       you wouldn’t be this desperate for my dick                                                                         if you were ready to let this go

And for once I just want him to shut the fuck up                                                  do what I thought we shouldn’t                                                         but we still both clearly wanted

Ri    chard,              I plead, trying to move my hands to pull him close,                           but his grip on my wrists behind my back is unrelenting. I’m nearly crying in desperation and want

This is it and I don’t know how to take one last taste and give it up               but he’s finally inside and I almost scream                                                  before I remember where we are

in public you know, what was supposed to prevent this

you just spent this entire time trying to fool yourself you wanted this you needed this you were aching for him to bend you over and fuck you                                       dirty fucking slut you don’t know how to love a man unless you let him dick you down                                       what a whore

there’s no pause between him slamming into me from behind                                                 pulling out from inside me                                                 laying me down on the dirty tile floor                                                 stepping between my legs                                                 with my pants and shoes still binding my ankles together                                                 and him crouching down to get on top of me                                                 my heels at the base of his back and he’s thrusting in on top of me,               leaning down and kissing me and it’s never this intimate it’s fast and rushed and down to it             never really kissing me                          and taking the time to connect and maybe he's trying to hold on just like i am

and fuck               this was all so spur of the moment               he didn’t put on protection I could be set to go down the same road                       creating life and living without him but I’m not going to stop him      I can’t risk this stopping here and letting go

te amo, he grunts             te amo te amo                         lo siento              te amo

and for a flash of a second I believe him                                             want to believe him but my body knows better as I scratch my nails across his shoulders        let his next ‘her’ see this

Loving and being sorry don’t fuck like this You fuck like this when you want to get off.                             when you only care about the sensation of your body                                                               and not the person you’re riding

But it’s over       we just said it was over       why lie? what would he get out of lying at this point?       he’s getting what he wants, he doesn’t have to say it

just because the players are tiring of the length of the game                                                       doesn’t mean it’s come to an end

I’m going to find myself in this position in another six months                                      wanting to be rid of how toxic his touch is to me                                                    but needing that drug to feel alive                                                                                           be alive

He tilts his hips and hits a different spot                         and I’m close to screaming again nothing is ever going to feel this good nothing is ever going to set me alight like this nothing is ever going to complete me like he does

and I don’t realize I’m moaning words aloud                                                  te amo, papi                                                  te amo tanto                              until he smiles against my neck

Asi es, amorcita           You’re so fucking wet baby God, I’m never gonna get over how good you are.        I’m fucking you so goddamn good your thighs are shaking You gonna cum for me, mamita?

He never cares about that first          He cares about him Does that mean                           he’s come to care about me that way? That heightens me enough to make me explode right then

Si, si si si And I climax around him, clutching him to my body tight        he pumps into me a few more times before he follows suit And the high only lasts for a moment                     before the realization washes over me

It’s done.

We can lay here together                   on the filthy linoleum hoping it’s not real            or maybe that’s still just me but it’s done and i’m going to leave this room                                    this building                                    and let him go

You’re a fucking idiot.                                   You gave in.                                   You gave him what he wanted. This isn't the end, this is it starting up again.                              You'll be in his bed again next week.

what if he tells me he wants me now what if this isn’t over i was so strong willed when this began                                   that I wasn’t going to let him back in. Now that he’s back inside I can’t shut him back out

Knock Knock Knock Someone outside.                 Public.                                Shit.

He and I almost trip over each trying to fix our clothes. Two people rushing out haphazardly                   clothes askew                   hair disheveled this isn’t going to look conspicuous at all.

I examine myself in the mirror above the sink                            eyeliner is running down my cheeks                            my hair is a tangled mess                            my cheeks and neck are flushed red                            my lips are swollen and red from his attention

And the messiest of all is how I’m now feeling

He leads me out of the room holding my hand                                               trailing behind him                                               adjusting my crossbody bag                                               rushing out the door

And he pulls me outside            lets the glass double doors swing closed            pushes me against the wall

And we’re laughing at the rush       his forehead is pressed against mine but the chuckles subside      and            then                    it’s                         just                                                                     quiet.

We can’t say I’ll miss you We can’t say I love you We can’t say anything      We don’t know where this is going to go

Or maybe I was pretending                 so it wouldn’t hurt as much.

He gulps. Where’s your car?

And we walk to it                            silent and I don’t know what to do until he holds my hands in his my back to the drivers’ side door.

It was always us, mama. I hope you can forgive me. It’s already done. I don’t need to say it. Anything he wants from me is always done instantly.

And he presses his lips to mine       and holds my cheek in his hand       and he says something else              but I’m too far away in my mind to hear it       and then he’s walking away                      like so many times before                      but this is different.

I don’t remember getting out my keys or opening the door or sitting down or turning the ignition or driving down a curved road where I’m now parked on the shoulder and sobbing until I’m almost sick

It’s said that overcoming an addiction is difficult      but you never truly overcome anything You may not practice the same habit You may not ingest the substance anymore You don't get the same high                                                                         But you still think about it Even years later                          at a low point you can remember how the drug raced through your veins and you know you want it                              need it can't live without it how have you been surviving this far? But then you can look in the mirror know it’s not healthy it’s bad for you it could kill you And though it's a daily struggle and it fucking hurts you’re better off without it

relapses happen sometimes with addiction               he and I still message each other every six months with an I miss you                              the other might even respond with a me too                                    but it never unfolds into more

and it feels like mourning over ashes       yearning for what once before it went up in flames and sitting by the pile left in its wake       sifting the remnants through your fingers       focused on the memories       hoping if you stare at it long enough that it’ll return to true form but there’s no bringing it back it’s over and gone and all that’s left to do is move on

again.

[amandaoftherosemire]

Sing For Me - Chapter Thirty-eight

Fandom: Marvel Avengers AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X OFC (Sasha)

Characters: Bucky Barnes, OFC Sasha, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff, OFC Zoe, OFC Kat, OFC Maddie, Princess Shuri

Author: @amandaoftherosemire​

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2290

Format: Series (Complete)

Warning: Language, angst.

Summary: Sasha searches for a way out.

A/N: Not consistent with Marvel canon. This would have been up last week but another of my fics wouldn’t stop screaming in my brain to let me finish it. At least I was writing something. :D

Banner by: @hellzzzbelle

Sing For Me Masterlist

Chapter Thirty-seven here

Chapter Thirty-eight

Sasha was thoroughly lost. Which was weird and annoying since she was almost certain these woods were the same as those behind Caleb’s grandparents’ house. From time to time, however, the look of a gnarled tree or a moss-covered rock would send a chill down her spine, reminding her of the forest that surrounded Morozov’s compound.

If she managed to get out of this, she was going to have to confront the destruction of said compound, if for no other reason than to deal with the part of her that still lived in terror. Besides, she’d promised to dance the mambo on the ashes of everything Valentin had built. She needed to set a good example for Zoe about keeping one’s word, after all.

She couldn’t be sure if she had been stamping through these woods for twenty minutes or twenty days, the light remaining the same midday gloom of a thickly overcast day, but she was almost positive she was walking in circles. Since she wasn't certain this experience was completely subjective, she didn't know if it was something symbolic representing some aspect of her psyche, or if she was… still?... somewhere else…

Sasha stopped to examine the tree she was certain she’d passed three times already. It was big enough around that it would take another four of her to surround it and rose over a hundred feet in the air. She'd narrowed her eyes at it the second time she'd seen it, but she couldn't be sure it necessarily meant anything, so she'd kept moving. Now that she was sure she'd seen it more than once, it could only mean she was meant to pay attention.

“Do you think you’ll ever be free of me, dorogaya moya?" The voice was smooth with a faint Russian accent and a hint of menace. The sound sent a shiver down her spine, but she answered as she always had.

"Ugh! With this shit again!?" Sasha threw her arms up in the air as she spun to confront the blue-eyed monster in a bespoke suit that still haunted her nightmares.

Valentin Morozov stood a few feet away and smiled in the same way a shark does moments before devouring its prey. “A part of you will always belong to me, Alexandra.”

Just as Valentin spoke the hated name, Sasha thought she heard the flutes and strings that came with the pretty, playful azure breeze. She flicked the back of her hand at him as she looked around and strained to catch which direction it was coming from. “Can you shut up? I’m trying to hear.”

Valentin continued with his now familiar refrain. Sasha had heard these words in her nightmares more times than in reality at this point. “I’ll always be here, Alexandra. I’m part of you now.”

“You’re just the worst, Val. You know that, right?” She was barely paying attention to her own personal boogeyman as she could swear she heard her name amongst the happy woodwinds and melancholy strings and hoped it wasn’t wishful thinking. “You’re like Hannibal Lecter without the charm or intelligence or social polish.”

“All that fire, solnyshko,” Val moved in, his hand reaching out to touch her, something she’d swore to never again allow, even in dreams, “and you waste it on— “

“Shut. Your. Fucking. Mouth.” Sasha didn’t even look at the man who’d tortured and scarred her inside and out as she placed the tip of the sword she still held at his throat. Her face colder than his reptilian eyes, she scanned her surroundings for the little breeze she could hear but not see.

“Al—” Val opened his mouth to speak, but only the first syllable escaped before Sasha was spinning the sword and plunging it into his chest. His face mirrored the same astonishment he had worn at his actual death as he stared down at the blade and the blood that soaked his pristine white shirt around it.

Sasha sounded almost bored as she spoke. “I’ll kill you as many times as I need to, in whatever ways I have to. You cannot win because you’re nothing but a bad memory. And my name is Sasha.”

With a disdainful yank, she pulled the sword from Valentin’s chest to let him fall to the ground. "Asshole." At least she now knew she was trapped inside her own mind. Val was her monster; he only haunted her dreams now. If he was here, she had to be unconscious.

Once Valentin was no longer distracting her, Sasha realized the giant tree she stood staring up at glowed a gentle golden hue and resonated with the song that rode the wind through its branches. Circling the enormous cedar, she was able to pinpoint the direction the song was coming from. Hefting the sword back over her shoulder in case Val made another appearance, she took off at a trot to wherever Zoe was leading.

Over what felt like the next hour, she followed the song at a jog, trying and failing to determine whether it was getting louder, until she came upon another of those glowing golden cedars. She was certain it wasn’t the same tree; this one was shorter but bigger around. As she came near, she became certain the song was louder.

Reaching out, Sasha placed her hand against the surprisingly cool, rough bark. As soon as her palm made contact, a rush of rose-gold power blew through her like light and for the first time in months, she could feel the people around her.

Zoe was closest, her fear and desperation accompanied by the whisper of her thoughts, calling across the void, exhorting Sasha to stop being such a drama queen and get up already.

Next was a song both familiar and not, a tangled mass of fear and defiance. Over and through that tangle, however, sang a melody of joyous, unconditional devotion. Sasha had her suspicions about the source of that song, as well as a deep curiosity as to the inspiration of such adoration.

Under it all was the song Sasha was searching for and once she found it, the pull towards it was too great to resist. Not that she tried. With a happy whoop, she took off into the forest at a run, following both the pull and Zoe’s song.

As she ran, ducking under branches and leaping over fallen logs, Zoe’s voice got louder and louder as long as she continued to follow the magnetic pull towards what felt like her own polar star. She could no longer understand the words now that she was on the move, but the impatience came through loud and clear.

Sasha was chuckling to herself at the sensation when she burst through the line of trees to find herself in a clearing dominated by the biggest tree she’d ever seen. Rising hundreds upon hundreds of feet into the sky and at least a hundred feet in diameter, Sasha was sure such a thing couldn’t exist in reality.

Aside from its size, it also shone golden, a stream of rose-gold light spearing into the blue-silver clouds that swirled and churned around it. Tilting her head as far back as she could, she saw a twinkling of rich cerulean far, far up, somehow shimmering with impatience.

“Well, shit.” Sasha stood several yards back looking up, trying to see the top of the tree she was now sure she’d have to climb. Her heart failing her a little— she was so, so tired— she strode forward to place her hand on the reddish-brown bark.

This time she didn’t even have to make contact before the rush of light was moving through her. The little blue twinkle came clearer as she was engulfed by the pleasantly warm golden glow streaming from every crack in the bark.

Sasha chuckled as she determined that it was indeed her little sister pumping all that impatience into the air but sobered quickly when she felt Zoe’s sick dread and wracking guilt. Instinctively, and as though she’d never lost it, she reached out with her power, sending reassurance, wry affection, and absolute confidence out through her palm and into the tree.

She was certain she knew what to do now, though she couldn’t explain how. It was simply a matter of doing it. Getting shit done had never been a problem for Sasha.

Less than a second later, she felt Zoe respond to her push of emotion with elation and excitement. She could nearly see the pretty blue-green twinkle flitting around the top of the tree, the feeling came through so clearly.

Exhausted all the way to her bones, Sasha half-chuckled, half-sighed as she rested her forehead on the trunk next to where her hand still lay. It was then she noted that the tree felt nothing like the bark and wood it appeared to be; it was paradoxically hard as stone yet as malleable as clay.

Simply sighing this time, feeling a little defeated before she began but unwilling to wait, she pressed her fingers into the bark, the wood collapsing inward under the pressure to make a perfect handhold. “Not really a climbing tree, but okay.” Lifting her other hand over her head and pushing her toes in, she began the ascent.

At first, she stopped as often as there was a branch capable of supporting her weight, resting with her back to the trunk and trying not to fall. She didn’t know that it would matter, or if it would kill her, so she opted not to find out.

Before long, however, she was climbing faster and resting less often; a slow but steady surge of energy bearing an odd, unfamiliar familiarity poured into Sasha from the tree and its revitalizing gold light. The higher she climbed, the more tumultuous the winds that buffeted both the tree and Sasha.

Sasha was not complaining, however. She’d always been a fan of storms, of wild winds and purifying cloudbursts, and this was a storm meant for her. She could feel it as the gale lifted the tangled hair at the nape of her neck and whispered across her skin.

Hours, possibly days later, her foot planted firmly on the last branch that could hold her, she pulled herself finally to the top of a tree tall enough that its existence as an obstacle had come to feel like she was being insulted. She couldn't figure out what the hell her brain was up to.

She wrapped her arm around the tree trunk and leaned out as far as she could, shaking her hair back to toss and tumble in the wind. Like cool fingers combing through the tangled locks, it both soothed and excited.

The little azure twinkle had been chuckling and swirling, obviously trying both encouragement and taunts to motivate Sasha on. Filled nearly to bursting with that warm golden light, she’d hardly needed to breathe through the last stretch, so the encouragement endeared while the taunts amused.

Once she’d reached the top, however, the pretty aquamarine light had moved out into the whirling, arctic gale and shimmied up and down as though to lure Sasha closer. She watched the little star in consternation, utterly baffled as to why her sister seemed to want her to jump.

The twinkle suddenly dipped, drawing Sasha’s eyes downward and making her stomach pitch at the sight of the ground far below. Despite the overwhelming urge to close her eyes in response to her spinning head, she kept them open and trained on her guide. Because of that absolute trust, she noticed the swirl of blue and silver mist that streamed upward in an unbroken spiral. The current was within leaping distance, but only if she didn’t hesitate or hold back.

Sasha didn’t give herself time to think or second guess. Running down the length of the branch with the same poise she’d once used on the dance floor, she leapt into the air. She pushed off with as much power as she possessed, her body an arrow aiming for the eddy of air she believed absolutely would carry her home.

For a moment, as she reached the apex of her arc and began the plummet to the earth below, her stomach dipped and her heart failed.

In the next, a cool and oddly firm gust of wind caught her and threw her higher than she’d ever been before.

Never should have doubted you. The first thing to run through Sasha’s head as she regained consciousness was directly related to the first thing she noticed, the cool metal against the fire in the back of her neck.

“—op acting like you’re the only one who’s thinking about what’s best for Zoe, Steve.”

Sasha didn’t open her eyes right away, the simple sensation of being genuinely conscious overwhelming enough. The weight of her own body was almost more than she could bear now that she could actually feel it. Though everything she’d experienced had felt utterly real in the moment, now that she was awake, much of it seemed to fade away.

“I cannot believe you’re thinking about letting her try this!”

Sasha didn’t need to hear any more to know she didn't want to. “If you guys are going to fight—” The rasp of her voice, rusty with disuse, had every eye snapping in her direction. She kept her eyes closed, not ready to endure the light yet, but she smirked. “—can you at least take your shirts off?” She gingerly pried her eyes apart to grin tiredly, but with a slow, cheeky wink, at a gaping Bucky, who stared thunderstruck, silent in disbelief. “No reason the rest of us shouldn’t get a show.”

Chapter Thirty-nine here

Taglist:

@marvel-lucy @cheekygeek05 @lbouvet @lovely-geek @wantingtobekorra @diinofayce @ashesandfire @suz-123 @theresaskankinmyboot @ddysis @caplansteverogers @getbuckylucky @california-grown @rnr1274 @capandbuck @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @magellan-88 @mizzzpink @curiositywillbethedeathofmee @colie87 @bibliophile1773 @henrietteoaks @hellzzzbelle @same--old-shit @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @rishlo @eyesfixedonthesun22

[seigephoenix]

Hangman’s Body Count

I’m just throwing this out there.   Here we go.  Corrupted Guardians|Graphic Descriptions of Violence|Excessive use of the word Fuck|Mild Torture (eventually not now)  

If any other triggers pop up I’ll add them as we go.  Here we go for this new story.  Under a cut cause of length.  For mood music: 

 https://youtu.be/FSIv5cveIxg

Siobhan scanned the horizon on Io, watching the Taken and Vex battle for domination.  She’d picked off a few with her sniper, The Morning Comes, to help alleviate the boredom.  It wasn’t enough to draw their attention to her, but it was satisfying seeing the creatures fall in her scope.  The Hunter had done a few patrols in the area in hopes of getting the attention of whatever it was the Vanguard sent her after.  They’d given her few details, which was odd and highly suspicious, as Ikora rarely let her go out without all the information they had.  Whatever the threat was, it was great enough to have even Cayde be serious.  She’d never seen him so quiet.  Zavala told her it was of grave importance that she find what was attacking Guardians on the far flung reaches of the patrol areas.  The Guardians were alone when attacked and had their Light drained and their Ghosts crushed.  It was enough to send a shudder through her.

Which was why Siobhan sat on a ledge overlooking the basin on Io, a few minutes away from Asher Mir’s camp.  The same camp that her Fireteam was at, ready to jump to her rescue if the need arose.  Siobhan was studying the skirmishes when a flutter of movement in her peripheral vision snapped her attention away.  Her heart kicked into a gallop and she jerked to the side.  The sword crashed into the ground where she had been sitting, gravel spraying into the visor of her helmet from the sheer force.  She reacted without thinking and threw the grenade in direction of her attacker, relishing the sharp yelp of surprise.  She didn’t bother to dwell on the fact his voice sounded almost human, but there was something that sent a chill through her.  An unearthly edge to it that reminded her of dark hallways and the shrieks of thralls. She shook her head once to clear it and jumped away from the Guardian bearing the sword.  Her pulse rifle slid into her hands as she faced the Guardian.  She froze as she finally took in their appearance.

 The aura emanating from the Guardian sent a cold shiver down her spine.  She felt frightened.  Her heart raced in her chest and her legs twitched with the urge to run.  A startling realization hit her, she felt like prey.  The gaze practically pinned her to the spot, her stomach lurched at the crawling sensation she felt from his aura.  That aura felt hungry, its tendrils reaching towards her Light.  Siobhan started when she realized it wasn’t Light she was feeling from the sword bearer, it was far more sinister.  Every instinct she possessed told her to run.  The armor he wore bore a resemblance to the chitin found on Hive Knights and bled the dark ichor that seemed to sustain the Hive.  Fear weaved an intricate knot in her belly as she stared at them, that helm with the three glowing eyes.  Like a Knight’s death glare, like Oryx right before she and Nevia dealt the killing blow to him.  She broke her out of her reverie, not the exact time for distractions, and froze as the hairs on the back of her arm rose in alarm.

 She dodged to the side as the bullet rang out.  A haunting melody, similar to a Wizard’s song.  The bullet grazed her helm, sparks flying as metal struck metal.  She grimaced and noticed the first Guardian was gone.  Fear had all her muscles taut, ready to spring away, as her heart galloped in her chest.  Her body prepared her for a fight as she tamped down on the rising panic in her chest.  Was this how the other Guardians had felt?  Before their Light was ravaged, their bodies left broken on the ground.  Soil soaked with blood and littered with their remnants of their Ghosts.  Anger bubbled up in her chest, an inferno as she realized these two were responsible for the deaths of so many Guardians.  She wasn’t going to let them get away with it.

 She felt the hungry aura at her back and panic filled her as she realized that she couldn’t dodge in time.  This would hurt.  She was fast but not that fast, and her body braced for an attack that never came.  She heard the shout behind them and the sound of rapid footsteps.  The shield of Void energy came flying by her head, knocking the Guardian to the ground.  The sword skittered from his hand as the Titan landed beside her.

 “Good to go Guardian?  On your feet then.”  The commanding tone jerked Siobhan out of her shock and on her feet.  She faced the one with the hand cannon and narrowed her eyes.  That gun looked familiar, dark chitin and strange symbols etched onto it.   “Still dancing with the devil eh, Teben?”  The Titan pulled out her own hand cannon and aimed it at the one she addressed as Teben.

 “Why am I not surprised to see you here Demetria?”  The man addressed as Teben spoke calmly, his voice devoid of emotion.  It sent a chill down Siobhan’s spine, he sounded like he was speaking in a whisper.  The words flowed together like a melody, like the humming she heard on the Dreadnaught.  Siobhan threw the grenade at his partner, the curse breaking whatever standoff the other two had going on.  Bright blue eyes widened in surprise as the man held up his hand and let the black flames lick at his body, the hand cannon burning with green and black flames.  Siobhan brought up her hand, the bow already formed and launched the arrow.  The tether slowed him enough to let Siobhan fire a clip of her pulse rifle into him.

 “Let us retreat.”  The smoke screen burst in front of her and Demetria.  It was thick and cloying, coating her throat and mouth.  The acrid smell burned her nose and eyes, it reminded her of the Dreadnaught.  She coughed and retched as the smoke cleared, noting she stood alone with the Titan on the ridge.

“Are you alright Guardian?  Where is your Ghost?”  Demetria watched as Siobhan took a step back.  Smart.  Demetria could sense the unease in the Hunter easily enough, it was good to be skeptical.  Even of an ally who helped in battle.  This one had seen combat.  That would make it easier.

“First off, who are you?”  The Hunter’s voice was still hoarse from the smoke, but Demetria could hear the steel underneath.  This was not a Guardian used to being pushed around, or one who stood up when she did get bullied. She was wise to not give out that information, Demetria studied the Hunter in front of her.  She could use someone to help her get to the bottom of this, since her last partner left her.  It still stung to know he just up and left because he was on a vengeance tear.

“My name is Demetria.  I have been tracking those two assholes that attacked you for years.”  Demetria pulled off her helm and saw the Hunter mirror her actions. Demetria was surprised to see a fellow Awoken, but the suspicion in her eyes had amusement bubbling in her.  Juniper popped out and bobbed around the Hunter’s head.

“Her Ghost isn’t with her.  I don’t sense his Light.”  Her green shell quivered as Siobhan eyed her warily.

“My name is Siobhan.  I’m a Hunter and was told by the Vanguard to investigate why Guardians were being drained of their Light.”  Siobhan explained and propped a hand on her hip.  “My Ghost is with a trusted friend.  I knew Guardians were having their Light drained, so I wasn’t taking any chances.”  Siobhan explained as they headed off the ridge.  Demetria was surprised at her methods, but she could understand the caution.  The plan was a good and sound one, so long as she fully trusted the Guardian she left her Ghost with.

 “Siobhan!!!”  The excited voice reached her ears and she smiled as Arawn flew around her head in greeting.  He ducked into her hood, snuggling against her neck in his favorite spot.  Demetria chuckled as she watched the reunion, a Guardian who had a Ghost react like that to their return was a good one.  She watched the other two Guardians approach, a Warlock and a Titan.  Those must be her fireteam.

“Were you successful?”  The soft-spoken Warlock asked as she faced Siobhan.  She shook her head in answer and spoke quietly to explain what happened.  “What?  They were wielding darkness?”

“They are called the Shadows of Yor.”  Demetria spoke up as Asher perked up from his research.

 “Ah Demetria.  Pain in my side.  Still tracking the shadows, are you?”  Asher asked as he typed a few commands into his console.  Demetria grinned at Asher’s cranky attitude, something that had not changed in all the years she’d known him.

 “Yeah.  This time the shadows have gone too far.  They’re becoming too much like him.”

“Him?”  The Titan tilted his head in confusion, but Demetria saw the recognition light up on the Hunter and Warlock’s face.

 “Dredgen Yor.”

 “Wait, the Shadows of Yor.  That’s who is attacking other Guardians?  So why didn’t the Vanguard tell me?”  Anger threaded Siobhan’s voice, her eyes narrowing.  Demetria could see the storm forming in her eyes.

 “The Vanguard have never been that concerned with goings on of the Shadows.  I need to find out why they suddenly turned to the darkness.  They’ve always skated the line, but they have never consumed a Guardian’s Light before.”  Demetria explained as Juniper floated over to Arawn.  The Ghosts interacted with one another in their own silent language, transferring data and information.

 “We need to talk to the Vanguard.”  The Warlock spoke to them.  “Maybe they’ll take your concerns seriously now.”

 “I will meet you at the Tower.”  Demetria told them as she turned and transmatted into her ship.  She settled into the pilot’s seat, smiling as Juniper told her there was someone on the line.

“Demetria.”  The softly accented voice was familiar to her, she’d heard it for centuries.  She grinned at the annoyance there, he never called her by her full name.  Not once in all the time they’d been partners since hunting Dredgen Yor.

 “Shin.”

“I hear the Shadows have finally crossed the line.”  Demetria scoffed and tossed her hair out of her face, the bun loosening after being free.

 “Don’t act like you weren’t watching.  I know you were.”  Her lips quirked up as she heard the grumbles on the other side of the line.  “But yes.  They’ve attacked Guardians.  I’m enroute to the Tower now.  Hopefully we can get the Vanguard to listen to us this time.”

 “I would not be so sure.”  His tone was calm, but she knew how infuriated he’d been when Ikora had dismissed his concerns.  She’d just been finding her footing as Warlock Vanguard, so Demetria could understand her hesitation.

 “We’ll see.  Will you be at the Tower?”  She kept the hope out of her voice.  It had been a decade since she’d been able to travel at his side.  Possibly longer, the years flowed together as a Guardian.

“Yes.”  Demetria’s eyes widened as her jaw dropped.  “Close your mouth Demi.”

 Amusement filtered in through his voice as she glared out the window as he chuckled.  “I will see you at the Tower.”  The comm line went dark and Demetria grumbled as they turned the ship towards Earth.  The Vanguard would have to take their concerns seriously now.

[botanistlester]

Sweet Pea (10/34)

Summary: A nickname that goes bitter in your mouth. Cries for help that no one listens to. Gentle hands that make you quake on the ground you’re standing on. When Phil first met Nico, he thought he was a gift from the heavens. But behind the mask lies something daunting, something unnerving, that Phil never foresaw. Through his journey, he finds solace in Dan, the regular at his workplace, who seems to be the only one who sees through Nico’s mask to the darkness underneath. Warnings: Abusive relationship, violence A/N: Hello friends! Thanks for coming back for another chapter of Sweet Pea! I’ve been pressured into hosting a meetup for this fic called Knock Out Nico, so if you want to participate, you can look at that here lmao. The song at the beginning is called Little Do You Know by Alex & Sierra. Thank you to @littlelionsloves and @snowbunnylester for betaing this for me (: Previous | Masterlist

Read it on AO3 Read it on Wattpad

-

Chapter Ten

Little do you know how I’m breaking as you fall asleep. Little do you know I’m still haunted by the memories.

-

It’d been a few days since Phil had gone to Nico’s mum’s house, and Phil couldn’t seem to gain any of his energy back. He was a bit lethargic, as if walking through a dream, and he found it a bit hard to smile as easily as he usually did.

He was just a tad sad, in all honesty. He felt as though he’d completely ruined everything with Nico’s mum. Nico even seemed like he was still mad at him. He was ignoring his texts more often than usual, but when Phil was the one not answering him, he got a bit irritated. He snapped at Phil more often, and when they spent time together, they would be sitting in complete silence, a movie on in the background, and Nico’s phone glued to his hand.

Phil was terrified. He was terrified that he’d messed it up completely, that Nico wanted to leave him. They hardly talked anymore unless they were kissing or having sex. Sure, there were a few good moments where things were good, almost like how they were when they first started dating, but then, in the blink of an eye, everything would change and Nico would become a brick wall that Phil didn’t know how to touch.

He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to be with Nico because he loved him with all of his heart. He would do anything for him, would probably kill so he could be with him, because Nico was the only thing that made Phil feel like he was truly worth anything. Without Nico, Phil was nothing. He was just a pretty face that people liked to look at but didn’t want to be with. If he didn’t have Nico, he knew that he would be unhappy for the rest of his life.

Of course, there was Dan too. But while Dan was someone that made Phil laugh, a constant that Phil knew he could always count on, he wasn’t Nico. Still, whenever Nico wasn’t texting him, Dan was, and that meant the world to Phil. Whenever Nico wasn’t over at Phil’s flat, it was Dan who was over, just like he was over now.

The only complaint Phil had about Dan was that he was too intuitive and in-tune to other people’s emotions. Because he was an actor, he could always tell when someone was wearing a mask and pretending to be okay even if they weren’t. It was instances like this that made Phil majorly regret inviting Dan over to his flat, especially when Dan stared at him with a contemplative expression on his face, one that made Phil’s stomach sink into the ground. When Dan opened his mouth, Phil resisted the urge to bolt out of the room.

“Alright, what’s wrong, Phil?” Dan asked. His question was completely unjustified. They had literally just been listening to music on Phil’s record player, the sound of Muse filling the room with a lovely melody. Phil had been quiet, laying on the couch with his eyes half-closed, just basking in the aura. They’d been like that for about an hour before Dan had finally spoken, his first words something such as this.

Phil even had the audacity to be surprised. How could Dan see right through him? How did he know him so well after only a few months of friendship? It was something Phil wasn’t used to. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Phil answered quietly. He stared at the ceiling, squinting his eyes until he could see little stars swimming across his vision.

Dan sighed and Phil could hear him shuffle a little bit from where he was leaning against the couch on the floor. He didn’t look to see how Dan had moved. “Don’t lie to me, Phil. I can tell that something’s wrong.” When Phil still didn’t answer, Dan spoke in a lighter, more persuasive tone. “You just seem a bit sad now, is all I’m saying. I’m just concerned and I want to help in any way I can.”

Phil pursed his lips and squeezed his eyes shut. The stars were still dancing across his vision. “I don’t think you can,” Phil told him.

“Problems in paradise?” Dan guessed.

Phil shrugged as best as he could while laying down. It probably just made him look a bit twitchy, but he didn’t care. The background music was now just pointless white noise in his ears, irritating him. He suddenly wished for silence. He wished he could just be alone. “Something like that.”

“Wanna share with daddy what’s been going on?”

Phil choked, spluttered, his eyes shooting open wide. He sat up on his elbow and glared down at Dan, who was pretty much cackling on the floor. “The fuck?!” Phil exclaimed, taking the pillow from behind his head and whacking Dan in the face. “I never want to hear you call yourself daddy ever again, alright? Last I heard, you were my friend, not my parent.”

Dan snorted, shaking his head. “That’s not what my shirt says!” he protested, gesturing to his shirt. He was wearing his horrid World’s Best Daddy shirt again and Phil couldn’t help himself from whacking him in the face once more.

“Blocked and unfriended,” Phil told him sternly, laying back against the couch cushions. His eyes found a little black smudge on the ceiling, a shocking contrast against the white. Right at that moment, he related to the little black smudge. He, too, was a source of darkness amidst the light, lost and with no source of safety as far as he could see.

He picked up his phone and checked his messages.

Nothing. No new messages. None from his mum, none from Chandler, and certainly none from Nico. But as he stared at the now-black screen, it lit up once more with a new text, although not from the person who he most wanted to speak to.

Charlie - 8:53pm

Shalom philly! How do ya?

Phil texted back a quick hello and nothing else, not really feeling up for a full conversation. Which ended up being a bit controversial because as soon as he set down his phone, he was opening his mouth to talk.

“I think I messed things up with Nico,” Phil finally admitted, his voice so quiet that he wasn’t even sure if Dan could hear him. Maybe he didn’t want Dan to hear him, anyways. Maybe that was for the best.

Unlucky for him, Dan heard him and even responded to him. Phil wanted to curse himself for even opening his stupidly big mouth. “Why do you think that?”

Maybe because he ignores me half of the time? Phil thought bitterly, but he didn’t say that out loud. Instead, he tried to sugar coat it, spilling the beans about everything that he did completely wrong at Nico’s mum’s house. “I messed up when I visited his mum’s place,” Phil muttered. “Everything went wrong so fast that it nearly gave me whiplash. One moment, we were cuddling in the cab and the next, Nico was informing me that his mum had a cat. A cat. My allergies were acting up the entire rest of the day!”

Dan chuckled and Phil didn’t have to look at him to know that he was probably raising his eyebrows at him. “A cat? Is that all, or is there more to this story?”

“There’s more,” Phil sighed, slightly disappointed in himself for giving up so easily to Dan’s persuasion. “The cat thing happened first. I was actually pretty upset about her owning a cat, but at that point I couldn’t back out. So we went in and I just kinda assumed Nico would introduce me as his boyfriend. Well, he didn’t. I was just his friend apparently.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head in frustration, running a hand through his slightly sweaty fringe.

“Imagine that! Friends! As if we don’t say ‘I love you’ and have sex all the time.” Dan made a gagging noise and Phil kicked him lightly to shut him up. He’d wanted to know, so he had to deal with all of the grimy details. “So then Nico started ignoring me for literally no reason at all. All I was doing was chatting with his brother, Ezra. After Ezra gave me the house tour, he wanted me to go swimming with him, but Nico really didn’t want me to. Eventually I got pulled into the pool and Nico ended up just walking away. When I found him, he refused to speak with me. For the entire night. He didn’t speak with me until we got home!”

“Erm,” Dan started, and Phil hushed him because he wasn’t finished. Dan quieted down like a good boy and Phil was able to continue his rant.

“After dinner, Yvette pulled me into the kitchen and started spouting some bullshit about how I can’t let him ruin me and about how I deserved the best. What kind of mother says that about her own son?! Besides, Nico is wonderful to me so she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” He went on and on, telling the story as it happened. He told Dan about how when Nico and Phil got back home, Nico told Phil that swimming made him a slut and how he told Phil that he didn’t date sluts. He told Dan about how he had started crying and apologising, which was then followed by a quick exchange of endearments followed by slow sex. He mentioned how Nico had been ignoring him recently and how he was constantly fearing that Nico was going to break up with him now. He didn’t leave out any details, the story spilling out before he could even think to stop it.

The only thing he didn’t mention, was why Nico’s mum had said what she said, unwilling to divulge Nico’s history to another without his permission. It wasn’t Phil’s story to tell.

When he did finally stop talking, Dan had gone quiet. It was such a contrast to the rushed tone of voice Phil had been using only moments before that it set him on edge. What was Dan thinking? Was he thinking of how terrible Phil was? Perhaps how Phil shouldn’t have gone swimming since Nico didn’t want him to? Or maybe about how much of a slut Phil was? He didn’t want to cry anymore, so he gritted his teeth and glared at the splotch of paint on the ceiling again.

“Phil…” Dan said after a moment, and Phil tensed, bracing himself for the disappointment that Dan was no doubt going to be showing him. Dan turned around so he was facing the couch, and Phil felt Dan take one of his hands in his own. “Don’t take this the wrong way, okay? But I’m really concerned about you. Based on what I’ve seen and what you’ve told me, I think you need to be a bit careful.”

“What do you mean?” Phil deadpanned. There was a sick feeling in his gut and he could already tell that he didn’t want to hear any of this. It was like Nico’s mum all over again, like Dan somehow knew about Nico’s father and thought he was going to hit Phil too.

Dan squeezed his hand softly and it would have been nice if Phil wasn’t so tense at the moment. He couldn’t seem to bring himself to relax no matter what he did. “Nico just seems kind of… off, I guess?” Dan said. Phil gave him an unimpressed look because Dan was going to have to do a lot better than that if he wanted to express to Phil what his concerns were. “Isn’t the stuff he’s doing a bit, like, abusive?”

Phil snorted and burrowed himself into the couch, shaking his head. “Abusive? Seriously? God,

Dan, it’s not like he hits me or anything.”

“Not all abuse is physical,” Dan said quietly. Phil couldn’t tell whether he sounded a bit put out or not, so he decided to just ignore the tone and focus on the words. Words that were wrong.

“No way. Nico is great to me. He’s not… not like that.” Even the thought of that word made him feel nauseous. How could anyone think that Nico was abusive when he made Phil the happiest man in existence? It was just ridiculous, and yet Phil found his stomach churning with the need to throw up. “What even made you come up with something like that? Why would you even suggest something like that?”

Dan shrugged, frowning. His eyebrows were furrowed and it wasn’t a great look on him. Phil wanted to tell him to stop, but he didn’t know how to get the words out. “Just think about it. He manipulated you to the point where you were terrified to disobey him, he was hiding your relationship from his mum, and then he withheld affection when you went against his wishes. Those are all pretty big red flags.” Dan paused, searching Phil’s face for any sign of discomfort. When he saw how Phil was pretty much freaking out, his eyes went soft and he rubbed his thumb against the back of Phil’s hand. Phil wanted to tear his hand away, but he couldn’t seem to move in the slightest. “Look, I’m not saying that Nico is abusive in any way. But I just want to make sure that you’re staying safe and that you’re not with someone who has the potential to destroy you.”

“He’s not like that,” Phil said again, more firmly this time.

Even so, his head was spinning, and a migraine was beginning to eat at his brain. His whole body was screaming at him to run and never look back, but he tried to tell himself that Dan didn’t mean it in the way that he was coming across, but was just concerned instead. Phil should have never told Dan what had happened that weekend.

“Okay,” Dan said gently. “Okay. I believe you.”

He didn’t ask any other questions, didn’t grill Phil for details, and Phil was thankful for that. The inquiry was still in the back of his mind though, even when Dan started playing the piano for him, the soft tune making Phil’s ears sing and the tension flow out of his body. He closed his eyes and let himself get lost in it, because Dan was so good that he made Phil able to forget about almost everything.

Except this, apparently.

When Dan went to bed that evening and Phil was tucked comfortably under a blanket on the couch, Phil found himself clicking open a new tab on his laptop. For once, he didn’t think when he typed out a single word, hands shaking over the keyboard.

Abuse.

There were 523,000,000 results and the first one was the definition of the word. Phil skipped over that and clicked on the first link, which was labeled Types of Abuse. Physical abuse was the first thing that popped up, which was expected. There were other tabs on the page labeled Emotional/Verbal Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Financial Abuse, and so on, and Phil took a deep breath.

He began by skimming the physical abuse tab. He wasn’t too worried about it because Nico didn’t hit him or anything, but his brain was still foggy and his stomach was still churning when he read the description.

Physical abuse is any intentional and unwanted contact with you or something close to your body. Sometimes abusive behavior does not cause pain or even leave a bruise, but it’s still unhealthy.

Of course there was the obvious. Punching, scratching, throwing, pushing. Using a knife, gun, or other weapon. Grabbing the face, preventing from leaving, grabbing clothing. Nothing too terrible that screamed at Phil that he was being abused.

The next tab was emotional abuse, the description making Phil much more uncomfortable. He shuffled uncomfortably on the couch, adjusting the blanket, his eyes skimming the words but not really processing it until he reread it a few times.

Emotional abuse includes non-physical behaviors such as threats, insults, constant monitoring or “checking in,” excessive texting, humiliation, intimidation, isolation or stalking.

From just the description, Phil was already shaking his head. Just because Nico texted him all the time definitely didn’t mean that he was abusive. That bit was just plain ridiculous. Nico just wanted to talk to him all the time and there was absolutely nothing wrong with that. He continued reading, squinting his eyes against the brightness of his laptop as if that would help him feel slightly more protected from what he was going to see.

Calling you names and putting you down. Preventing you from seeing or talking with friends and family. Telling you what to do and wear. Damaging your property when they’re angry. Accusing you of cheating and often being jealous of your outside relationships. Using gaslighting techniques to confuse or manipulate you.

Phil felt as though he couldn’t breathe. There was too much, too many things that jumped out at him, and he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t really want to. He took some breaths through his nose and let it out through his mouth to try and calm himself down. It didn’t really help, but it was better than nothing.

Nico wasn’t abusive. He wasn’t. Phil had no doubts about that fact. Just because Nico sometimes called him a whore or accused him of cheating didn’t mean anything. Besides, Nico was just dealing with some of his own demons. He was trying to get over what had happened with his dad and accidentally took it out on Phil sometimes. Phil didn’t blame him for that, and he definitely wasn’t going to leave him when Nico was dealing with his own shit. Phil just didn’t have the heart to do that, and he didn’t want to leave Nico anyway.

Phil loved him.

There was a little bit underneath the bullet points that talked about how emotional abuse was still abuse and how it could cause emotional pain and scarring, and could even make the victim feel worthless or like they weren’t good enough.

Phil slammed the laptop shut and threw it on the floor. It landed with a dull thump, but Phil ignored it. Now, without the light from the computer, Phil was washed in darkness, but he didn’t care. He stared at the wall, his heart pounding, his head spinning.

Nico wasn’t abusive. Dan was wrong. He was wrong.

So why was Phil suddenly questioning everything he thought he knew?

Chapter Eleven

[valkyrieofthehighfae]

Chapter 6

Warnings: Self harm (technically), blood mention Word Count: 1.6k Join my taglist here 1, 2, 3, 4, & 5 I used the song “Crush” by the lovely band Joan Red for her song.  

I dropped to the ground next to Juice, breathing hard and staring down at the slumped corpse of the Blood Fae, my hands black with his blood. I couldn’t believe what just happened; I killed someone, actually killed them. I’d never actually killed anyone before, this was going to haunt me for the rest of my life.

“Juice?” I croaked, turning to look at him, praying he was okay. “Juice, can you hear me?” Reaching out with shaking hands, I touched his arm, nearly gasping when I felt how cold he was. “Juan, please, wake up. Please.” I whimpered, shaking him now. There was no response and I let out an anguished sob, shaking him again. “Damn it!”

I staggered to my feet and picked him up, wincing a little at his weight, and started walking to the palace, determined to get there as fast as possible so I could find what I needed to save his life. I could only hope that we still had everything around in the alchemy lab otherwise I might just lose him.

I’m so, so sorry love. I didn’t want you to get caught up in any of this. Tears ran down my cheeks as I staggered through the doors of the palace, hurrying to the lab where I laid him on a table that didn’t have anything on it. Once I set him down, I immediately began hunting for what I needed, hoping that this rumor I’d heard from some of our alchemists years ago was true.

“Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Um. Here we go,” With shaking hands, I grabbed vials of powdered unicorn horn, powdered dragon scales, fairy wing dust, a silver chalice and the sharpest silver plated dagger I could find. “It goes blood first if I remember right…” I sliced my arm open with the dagger, hissing at the pain, and held my arm over the chalice. When I thought I had enough, I covered the wound and hummed a soft, speedy melody and the wound vanished without so much as a scar, and added in the powdered unicorn horn, stirring it with the dagger, then alternated between adding the dragon scale and fairy wing dust slowly into the blood until it was all mixed in.

Taking the chalice over to Juice, I opened his mouth and poured it carefully into his mouth, praying that this would work. As soon as the mixture was gone, I laid my hands on his chest and started humming softly, trying to think of a song to sing to channel my healing abilities.

“Love, every time I call for you I’m lost without my love. And only if we make it through, it’s all for you. It’s breaking me apart again, of all the times I’ll never win. Only on the road I never seem to open my eyes. I dream of things that could have been. Crush my heart I’m wearing thin. Only all alone I see myself. I lose myself in you.” I felt that familiar warmth radiating through my hands and up my arms, pooling in my chest, a bright rosy glow emanating from my palms as I focused my entire energy into healing Juice. There was a choking noise and a yell and I found myself getting knocked back to the floor with a startled screech as I landed on my ass. Juice shot straight up, swearing loudly as a bright gold light enveloped him, causing me to close my eyes and turn away from the light.

“What the fuck? What the fuck happened?”

I cracked my eyes open a little to see if the light had subsided and let out a gasp of surprise. The rumors had been true and sitting in front of me was a now High Fae Juice. I got to my feet, bewildered that the potion had actually worked, my jaw dropping in shock as I studied Juice’s new appearance, taking in the rich bronze color of his skin and silver eyes, the usual irridecene of my people’s skin giving him an almost polished bronze statue look.

“Holy fuck. That… I can’t… it actually worked.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him after me towards the mahogany mirror towering in the back corner of the room so he could look at himself.

“What the…? Danica, what the hell did you do to me?” His gaze met mine in the reflection of the mirror.

“I… there was a rumor among our alchemists that it was possible to turn a human into a High Fae. I… brought you here to the palace to try it so I could save your life. And it worked. The ritual along with my healing magic did the trick, but you… it rewrote your entire DNA. It’s as if you were never human. I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do.” I was so deeply sorry for doing what I did, but I had no idea what else I was supposed to do.

“Jesus Christ,” he ran a hand over his head, completely thrown for a loop. “I mean, I appreciate you saving my life, I love you even more for it really, but how the hell do I handle this?” He motioned to himself, frowning deeply.

“I’ll teach you magic. It’ll come naturally to you and you can use a glamour to hide the Fae look. Since we’re here, I want to grab some books, they’ll be useful for this situation. Again, I am really sorry for this. I really didn’t want this to happen, I never wanted you involved with my stuff, not like this.” I reached up to rest my hand on his cheek, drawing in a shaky breath. Juice wrapped his arms around my waist, hugging me tight, and pressed a kiss to my forehead. I leaned into him, my cheek pressed against his chest as we stood there quietly for a while.

“So now what?” He murmured, stroking my hair softly.

“I guess now we look around. I need to gather books, and I’m looking for any sort of evidence that my parents made it out of here, too. Nyx didn’t see them that night, there’s a chance they could still…” I trailed off, trying to squash that hope down again just in case things didn’t go right. Juice nodded, letting go of me to go look over the books on the bookshelves, curious about things.

“What is all of this anyway?” He pulled a large, red leatherbound book, flipping it open to look through it.

“All sorts of stuff. Spells, rituals, the history of my… our Court. Anything and everything you can think of honestly.” I walked over to look at the books, biting my lip a little as I studied the titles. “I’m a little surprised you’re able to read any of that, it’s written in Sylvan.”

“This is interesting stuff. We’re bringing this with us right? We could put some of this to really good use.” Juice was completely absorbed, flipping through pages far quicker than I was expecting.

“Uh… y-yeah, of course. If you’re good here, I’m going to look around the palace.” I chuckled a little, leaving him to his own devices so I could search my home. It was silent, eerily silent, so unlike how it used to be. Laughter and conversations, children giggling and playing games echoed through my memories as I walked among the wreckage, ghosts seeming to skirt around my peripheral vision, hazy half dreams of a time lost to death and destruction. I trailed my fingers along murals of happier times, the moonstone cold to the touch and I stopped a moment by the portrait hanging there, deep gouges torn through it, shattering my family all over again. I stared at it, reaching up to touch the torn canvas, smoothing it down so I could see my family’s faces again.

I stepped away from the portrait, leaving it to rot along with everything else here, walking through the dust to the throne room, picking my way through debris and fallen Fae. I was going to give these Fae their proper rites, but first I needed to find something, anything really, to give me some sort of clue or closure. Or some semblance of closure anyway.

“So this is where you ran the show, huh?”

I jumped when I heard Juice’s voice behind me, whipping around to face him. He was still holding onto that book, but had left the lab to come see what was going on here in the throne room.

“Well, it’s where my parents ran the show. I was just there to look pretty for the people. I ran the political stuff behind the scenes.” I turned away, walking up the blood spattered steps, coming to a halt in front of my throne, studying the silver and sapphire encrusted seat, the crushed velvet upholstery crusted over with dried blood from one of my bodyguards. My jaw tightened when I closed my eyes, reliving the memory all over again, the screams as clear in my head now as they were on the night it happened. A sharp intake of breath had me opening my eyes again to look at Juice who had gone pale as he looked at me with wide eyes.

“Holy shit.” He breathed, taking his hand away from my father’s throne, yanking it back as if it had bitten him. “I… Jesus Christ, I just saw everything that happened that night, or at least what happened here.”

“What? What do you mean you saw it?”

“I dunno, I just touched the throne and it was like I was there when everything happened.” Juice shrugged, still looking a little unnerved by this new ability of his.

“I know I was here to try and find answers, but I think I’m leaving with more questions than anything. Let’s get those books and go home, I have a lot of research to do.”

[mama-m1na]

The Kiss of Death: Chapter 4

~~~IV~~~

Sleep did not come at all to the female that night as she prepared herself for dusk of the following day.

She did not fear death. In fact, many times she would welcome it with open arms; however, dying at the hands of someone like Armadeyus just made her blood boil.

In a now calm state of mind, Rhamina thought things over and came to the conclusion that it was he who had framed the teen for the murder of his wife.

‘What a coward,’ she thought bitterly, too drained and numb to move from where she lay on the cold floor of her cell, ‘He couldn’t even kill me face-to-face, so he gets rid of me like this.’

With a sigh, the ravenette closed her eyes before humming a melody she learned as a child back in her homeland, Lemuria.

The attacks on the barrier above had ceased, so the haunting melody drifted through the dungeons, allowing others on death row to hear.

A small pit of unease began to settle in the stomachs of the knights set to guard the witch as the song continued.

‘Why is she acting so serene?’

‘She’s set to suffer a terrible death, so why is she singing?’

‘Is she not scared?’

‘Does she have a plan?’

Time moved slowly in the dark cell.

Rhamina could only guess that it was noon when a guard walked in to give her some bread and water.

The next time the door opened, two armored knights walked in and she knew it was time for her to go.

She wore no expression as she was led through the dungeons, the chains on her ankles rattling with each step she took as a calm aura surrounded the eighteen-year-old female.

The other prisoners, some of which were Lemurian like her, could only offer small prayers as she drifted past their cells while they awaited their own fates.

The ravenette had always loved walking through the capital streets in the early afternoon and evenings, hearing the happy chatter of the people, but it was different that day.

That day all she heard was noise, people shouting in anger from different sides of the streets.

Lemurians stood on one side shouting curses at the unmoved Ukaidian guards and citizens while Ukaidians stood on the other side, throwing slander at the dirty Lemurians who had invaded their lovely city.

‘How annoying,’ she thought as she was led up to a wooden cross, held up with a small platform that she would stand on, ‘Why can’t I just die in a peaceful sleep instead?’

Looking up at the sky as her arms were tied tightly to the horizontal beams with a scratchy rope, the judge that had condemned her stood in front of the wood and dried straw under the platform, spouting words she didn’t care to listen to from a small black book.

Once her waist and legs were tied, everyone left her platform before the judge, dressed in his black robes, turned to meet her expressionless gaze.

“Now, Witch, do you have any last words before you burn?” the male asked as he held a lit torch, the magical barrier around them keeping out the raging citizens.

Looking out over the crowd, the ravenette saw the faces of her loved ones at the very front of the crowd as they tried their best to destroy the barrier only to fail as not even the smallest of cracks appeared on the transparent magic.

Continuing her sweep, the girl’s eyes stopped on the king, wearing a haughty smirk as his children were nowhere to be found, most likely locked in their rooms to keep them from interfering.

“Honestly, what good are my words when all of you refuse to listen? … But I will say just one thing,” Rhamina spoke in an even tone as her heart pounded rapidly in her chest, “Ukaidia is a beautiful country with a kind and just, albeit gullible, people… It really is a shame her king cannot reflect these traits.”

A gasp of shock came from the close guards and judge that could hear the words that fell from the mouth of the girl who wore a bored expression.

The smirk on Armadeyus’ face slowly morphed into a scowl before he gave one, simple command.

“Light it.”

The judge tossed the torch forward into the wood and kindling before stepping back to watch as the red-orange flame roared to life.

The eighteen-year-old instinctively flinched back only to be held in place with the rope securing her form to the wooden cross.

“Now, witch, your soul will be offered up to the grim reaper as he relays your judgement,” the judge read as the flames grew larger.

She couldn’t stop herself from crying out in pain despite trying her hardest once the flames began to lick at her soft skin.

“You have committed the greatest of sins which will now be cleansed by this holy pyre!”

‘I guess it’s good that my hair was chopped off,’ she thought, trying to avoid inhaling the black smoke, ‘Otherwise this would probably be a lot worse.’

“Now begone from this world. Begone and take with you all your stain of sin!”

The Lemurians and bands’ efforts to bring own the barrier increased as the female thought, ‘Fuck! This hurts!’

Tears freely fell down her face as she looked up to the setting sun while fighting against her binds.

‘God! This hurts so much!!’

‘What am I even doing?!’

‘I don’t want to die like this!’

The temperature began to drop rapidly despite the great fire that rose as the ring on the female’s right hand began to glow a soft gold.

Another cry ripped from the female’s throat as the flames melted her skin and flesh, a familiar purple aura beginning to shroud her form.

‘I want to live!’

A large surge of energy burst from Rhaming, shattering the barrier created by four of the royal mages as she was encased in a large crystal of ice, the fires ceasing completely.

The column of ice grew to about two stories before opening in five petals to reveal the female rising to stand in the center of it; however, something changed.

She wore a short, purple and black kimono top with a pleated, purple skirt that ended at her knees with black, wedge, sandals on her feet.

Her previously waist length hair now fell to end at her knees as a pair of black fox ears twitched on top of her head, matching the nine, large, black fox tails swaying behind her.

The female looked around her, revealing the purple markings on her face and her glowing gold irises.

The girl looked down at herself in complete and utter confusion before her ears flicked to stand straight up.

Leaping onto a nearby roof, she narrowly avoided being struck by five arrows before her ears pulled back as she snarled at her attackers, tails swaying dangerously.

“Kill the witch!” ordered Armadeyus as he stood from his seated position, rage taking over his form, “She cannot live!”

The ravenette said nothing as she took off in the opposite direction, leaping from roof to roof as mages and knights followed after her.

She looked back from time to time to see the hoards of mages that were quickly gaining on her, but hesitating to cast their spells lest they hit their own people or buildings.

When she came across the path that led to what served as her home for the past few years, the female lept to the ground in a puff of smoke, reappearing as a fluffy black fox with the same purple marks on her face.

Taking off down the path, the vixen was able to easily evade any spells thrown at her before disappearing into the woods, none of the mages or knights able to follow her through the dense brush.

Two weeks had passed since the ravenette’s disappearance and although many of the Lemurians had left the capital to return to their own cities within Ukaidia, word quickly spread of the guardian’s reawakening with the relic of no name.

As for the ice flower left behind in the town square, it had yet to even begin melting, even with the spells of the best royal mages.

It kept emitting remaining bits and pieces of the ravenette’s magic, serving as a reminder of what transpired that day.

This is where the second prince of Ukaidia currently stood as he thought things over.

“Things have been so hectic,”he sighed as he rested his forehead on the ice, relishing in the lingering aura that had been absent from his life, “I’m sorry I couldn't be there for you… The Lemurians have been acting strange lately since you disappeared and there has been no music coming from the band room. They don’t talk to me or anyone but each other anymore and everyone is just stressed.”

Suddenly, Umi’s head snapped up as he felt a flash of the ravenette’s aura only to see a white butterfly fluttering overhead.

Night was quick to fall over the capital of Ukaidia as its second prince retired to his chambers; however, before he could fall asleep, the sound of something hitting his window earned his attention.

Opening the pane of glass, Umi looked down to see Chloe’s form standing below his window, just staring up at him.

Before he could get any words out, the fifteen-year-old began to briskly walk down the path to the door of the music room.

Not even bothering to slip on his shoes, the male snuck out of his room, making sure to avoid the gaze of the guards, to follow the young girl.

As soon as he entered the music room, all of the lights flicked on, revealing all members of the Royal Band plus his siblings.

“Oh good, you showed up, we were starting to think that Chloe didn’t actually get you,” Sierra spoke as she walked forward.

“What’s going on here?” the silver-haired-prince asked, turning to his brother and sister who only shrugged in response.

“We were brought here just like you, Umi,” Ryoto explained as he gestured to the musicians, “They haven’t told us anything yet.”

“Well, now that Umi is here, we can get started,” Joel stated, causing Kerstin to stand up from her spot next to her boyfriend.

“So, first off, we wanted to say that we’re sorry for basically shutting you guys out,” the darkette began as she faced the three siblings, “Things have just been getting really… complicated, I guess you could say.”

“But the main reason we brought you guys here is this,” she continued, handing the silver-haired-male a piece of white paper with multiple, straight creases in it.

“It’s a letter from Mina,” Sam explained, “You might not have seen it before, but she has a spell where she writes notes and folds them into paper cranes that fly off to whoever she has it addressed to.”

“Most of the time people mistake them for weird butterflies with the way they fly around,” Tijarah added as she pulled a sandwich out from… who knows where.

It read:

Dear everyone,

I’m sorry for not contacting you all sooner, but I needed to make sure that I was out of reach from the guards and out of watch of the royal mages. Also, finding decent writing materials was a huge pain in my fucking ass.

Anyways, I’m writing to tell you all that I’m fine, alive, and have a general plan of how to move forward from here. Unfortunately, I cannot tell you the entirety of it right now, but if my prediction is right, then the king has probably secluded himself, so take this opportunity to flee Ukaidia, immediately. It will only become more and more dangerous as time moves forward, so meet me in Morcht in two to three weeks.

I obviously can’t stay here, so I’ll give you the rest of my plan when you all fine me.

Be careful, stay safe, and I love you guys!

Sincerely,

Rhamina Miyu

PS. Please tell Umi that I’m okay. Knowing him, he’s going to be stressing out to the point where he’s killing someone.

Tears began to form at the corners of Umi’s eyes before he quickly blinked them away as Haru took the paper from him.

“How are you sure that this is actually from her?” Ryoto asked, earning a pointed look from the younger brunette in front of him.

“Are you stupid, Ryo?” Haru asked, looking up at the male who was reading over her shoulder, “Who else would be complaining about the quality of her stationary while on the run from the authorities?”

“Yeah, you’re right about that I guess,” the male shrugged before looking over to the other teens, “So how are you getting to Norcht within that time frame and without raising suspicion?”

“Underwood got the okay for us to go to Norcht for a ‘music festival’,” Sierra explained, using air quotes around her last two words.

“So why tell us this in such a sketchy manner?” the eldest prince asked, “Rhamina did say to tell Umi she was well, but you could have done that during the day.”

“We wanted to know if you wanted to come with us, because we think she might be planning to overthrow your father and put one of you three on the throne,” Tijarah spoke bluntly earning an elbow from Sam.

“What?!” the three siblings questioned simultaneously .

“Way to fucking drop the bomb, Tijarah,” a half-Lemurian clarinet player nambe Robert sassed.

“Shut the fuck up, Stick Boy,” the female retorted with a scoff.

“ShUt ThE fUcK uP, sTiCk BoY!” the tall, lanky male mocked.

“Oh, you’re asking for an ass whooping now!” Tijarah exclaimed as Robert let out a scream while the teen chased after him.

Sierra face palmed before turning to the royal siblings and said, “We researched her family and it turns out that Vincent and Marianna Miyu were her great-great grandparents and even if she didn’t like her family, she’s a pretty traditional Lemurian and we figured that she might try to follow in their footsteps.”

The names of the two Lemurian commanders caused Umi’s eyes to widen. 

He had seen those names in a history book that was used in his studies as a child.

The husband and wife had successfully overthrown the dictator ruling over an allying country over two hundred year ago, instead placing his more reasonable sister in charge.

“We leave in two days, so you have until then to make your decisions,” Sierra said but before anything else could happen two voices spoke.

“I’m going!” Umi and Haru spoke at the same time with no hesitation whatsoever.

“I guess we’re going then,” Ryoto said with a yawn, “Is that all you guys needed from us tonight?”

“Yeah, that’s the basics of what we needed to tell you, so y’all can go to sleep now,” Sierra spoke as she walked over to the white board to continue their meeting.

“I’m afraid I can’t allow that,” a voice spoke as a black aura formed at the director’s podium, “The princes and princess are to remain here.”

“Jester, what are you doing here?” Ryoto called as he held and protective arm out in front of his younger siblings.

“Honestly, the three royal children conspiring against their own father, have you three any morality, Young Lords and Lady?” mocked the figure as they smiled, completely ignoring the twenty-year-old’s question.

“What are you going to do?” Kerstin asked as a red glow enveloped her hands, “Turn us in?”

“Well, it would be the logical solution for a bunch of heretics like you since I can’t have the royal children running off, but where’s the thrill in hunting all of you down if I do that? Oh what a predicament!” pouted the figure as everyone in the room glared at them.

“Oh, I know!” chirped the ambiguous figure, “you all can go and keep your heads for now while leaving the royal blood here, or I can kill you all right here.”

“You’re fukcing insane!” exclaimed Jowl only for a black tendril to wind around his throat and dangle him in the air.

“Joel!” Let him go!” Sierra exclaimed as many stepped forward coated in their own auras, only for the figure to knock them back with another tendril.

More black tendrils crawled out from under the figure’s cloak as they began to hover in the air, hands coated in a black aura as their eyes began to glow a dirty grey color.

A cackle ripped from the figures throat as their aura grew to take the shape of a large spider with glowing grey eyes.

“I’m making quite the offer here, Children,” the figure spoke as the black tendril constricted tighter around the male’s neck, “I would take it if I were you.”

“Fine! We’ll stay here!” Umi spoke through gritted teeth as his form shook in pure anger, “Now let him go.”

“Nice working with you, Your Highness,” Jester spoke with a sickeningly sweet tone as their tendrils retraced back under their cloak, “have a nice night now, Kids!”

Sierra immediately ran over to Joel who was gasping to regain the air that was kept from him while the three royals sat, boiling in their own hate.

Meanwhile, at the southern coast of Ukaidia, a young Ukaidian woman with fair skin, long blonde hair and bright blue irises boarded an expensive looking cruise liner along with her bandmates.

“So, Marianna, you good with the setlist for tonight?” asked a male who was slightly taller than her.

“Yes, Joseph, I’ve told you a hundred times already that I’m fine,” snapped the woman as she rolled her eyes, gripping the handle of her bag tighter, “You don’t need to keep pestering me about it.”

“Whatever you say, Doll, just remember, one mistake and you’re cut,” the male replied as the blonde walked away with her luggage.

‘Assholes,’ she thought, glaring at the path that led to her room, ‘I’m the fucking reason we scored this gig in the first place.’

Her eyes flashed gold momentarily before she stopped in front of her door, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

‘One for the money,’ she thought exhaling before inhaling deeply again.

‘Two for the show.’

‘Three to get my mother fucking revenge… Let’s go.’

“You’re fine, mina,” she whispered to herself, unlocking the room door, “Phase one of the plan is in action, all you have to do is survive two and a half more weeks with those bastards and then you can end them.”

Making sure that her door was locked, the female let out a groan before throwing her bag onto a nearby chair and flopping face first onto the bed before turning to face the floor length mirror on the wall, revealing her true appearance.

Her smooth golden-brown skin seemed slightly paler than normal as she met her dulling brown eyes, littered with her signature golden flecks, the dark circles under her eyes causing the girl to frown under the black fabric that covered the lower half of her face.

The mirror and the girl’s physical appearance only differed due to the glamour the teen cast on the fabric covering up the majority of her facial features.

‘I don’t understand how just changing my appearance can change someone’s mannerisms towards me so drastically,’ thought the female with a huff as she remembered all the hate and discrimination she had suffered, ‘I still at the fucking same. When I’m a Ukaidian I’m considered quirky and cute but when I’m a Lemurian, I’m disgusting and barbaric.’

“That’s fucking bullshit!” screamed the female into a pillow before she let out a yawn as she rolled over to lay on her back with a frown on her face.

“God, I wish I could sleep forever, but fate isn’t even kind enough to let me get two hours,” growled Rhamina as she sat up.

“Oh well,” she sighed, grabbing a towel and walking to her bathroom, “I can always stab someone in order to distract myself.”

As her bathtub filled up with hot water, the girl took off her mask and brushed out her knee length, raven locks before stripping down and looking over the scars that littered the various parts of her body.

“Man, those royal mages really were incompetent as hell,” snickered the eighteen-year-old as she sunk into the tub, “couldn’t even catch a snail if it were in a circle of salt.”

The ravenette let out a satisfied sigh as the hot water and rose scent eased her tense muscles.

 It had been quite some time since the teen had been able to let her guard down to this extent, so she would relish in the sense of ease while she could.

For the past two weeks, the female had been fleeing from the capital and trying to return to Lemuria, so it had been extremely stressful and taxing.

Just recently was the girl able to find a group of traveling musicians to perform with as her alter ego, Marianna, and even then, they were not pleasant to be around in the slightest.

They were heavily discriminatory towards the female, even in her Ukaidian disguise, and to top it off, their musical ability wasn’t even all that great, it was mediocre at best, nothing like the ensembles she had been a part of prior to her birthday.

She was the entire reason the owner of the cruise liner offered them the job; it was her alluring voice and overall presence as a performer that drew people in and made the performances entertaining.

When the ravenette was done with her bath, she used magic to quickly dry herself off, mostly her hair, which she noted was much softer than before it was hacked off with a sword of a Ukaidian knight.

After placing her black mask back over the lower half of her face, Rhamina dressed in a black qipao that ended just above her knees, decorated with pink and gold flowers before putting on a pair of black flats.

She decided to just leave her hair down with a part on the right side of her head as she did not feel like trying to do anything to it lest it fight her back.

Deciding to go light with make up that night, the female simply used black eyeliner to create a cat eye look before putting on a dark red lipstick, close to the color of blood.

‘Fucking dogs those guys are,’ the blonde thought as she walked to the dining/bar area where they would be performing, very aware of how much leg was showing, the high slit in the dress doing nothing to help her comfort as people, mostly men, oggled at her form.

‘Fucking pigs,’ she cussed in her head, forcing a small smile as she met with the musicians behind the stage curtain.

“Look who finally showed up,” snickered a male as he sat with a shiny trumpet in his lap, “Not bad, Doll.”

“You best shut up before you don’t have a dick,” the female hissed as she adjusted her microphone stand her bandmate so happened to leave way too short for her.

The female could feel the stares of the men on her ass as she struggled with the tight screws of the equipment.

‘I swear, as soon as I get to Norcht, I’m killing all of you in the most painful way possible,’ the blonde thought as her cheeks burned red in anger and embarrassment.

As soon as the instrumentalists were ready, the female got in her starting pose at the microphone and the curtains rose.

Whistling a tune into the mic, the woman grabbed the attention of the audience before the instrumentalists took over the rest of the intro.

The song was in a lower key so when the female began singing, it came out as very rich and seductive, even for the relatively quick tempo of the song.

The girl was used to having eyes on her since she had been performing for most of her life, but something felt different on that night.

Scanning the crowd as she sang, the ravenette came across a pair of golden irises that were locked onto her form.

The eyes belonged to a well dressed man sitting at a table towards the back with black dreadlocks done half up, with a lit cigar in his hand.

Normally, she would see hunger written over the face of a man like that, but she found none of it, maybe it was interest?

Admiration?

Longing?

Going against the rapid beating of her heart, the female wore a small smirk and winked at the male before continuing her performance, taking the microphone out of it’s stand before walking off the stage and going around the tables, interacting with the audience.

Walking towards, but never reaching the male before wandering somewhere else.

When their set was over, the blonde was just going to go back to her room; however, she was stopped by a tap on her shoulder.

“Excuse me, Miss,” a smooth voice spoke as she turned around to see the golden-eyed male from the audience, “I was wondering if you would like to join me for a drink.”

Feeling the hungry stares of her stagemates, the female gave a closed eye smile before saying, “Sure, that would be nice.”

With a smile of his own, the male held out a hand which the blonde took before being led back to his table where two wine glasses stood in front of a dark bottle.

“Black Cherry Merlot,” she read as the male poured the dark red liquid into each of the glasses with a chuckled, “What do you know? A wine I can tolerate.”

“Is that so?” the male asked with a raised brow as he set the bottle down, “I take it you don’t drink often, then?”

“That, and  I’m quite picky when it comes to alcohol,” the blonde spoke as she lifted the glass, “I’m Marianna by the way.”

As the two conversed, the flirty air grew thicker until the male said, “It’s getting quite late and it would be a shame if you were alone.”

Leaning in to whisper in the female’s ear, he asked, “So, how about you join me in my room tonight?”

Playfully pushing the male off, the blonde gave a small smirk of her own before lightly tapping the male’s nose as she asked, “Bold words coming from a man who hasn’t even given me his name, don’t you think?”

“Touche,”” he chuckled before pulling out a clean deck of cards from his coat pocket.

“Well, Ms. Marianna, I must as,” started the male as he expertly shuffled the cards, “Do you play poker?”

“Yes,” she replied as the male dealt the cards, “Why do you ask?”

“Let’s make a be he replied as he set three cards face down in the middle of the table, “If you win, I give you my name now, and if I win, then I’ll give you my name later.”

“Deal?” the man asked holding his hand out to shake.

“Deal.”

Ten minutes passed before the female dropped her cards onto the table with a defeated sigh.

“Wow,” she chuckled, shaking her head at herself, “I have not been beat that bad since… Ever, actually.”

“I must say, you were a hard one to beat, Ms. Marianna,” chuckled the still unnamed man as he collected his cards.

“Well, Sir, I must be off now,” the blonde sighed as she stood from her seat, “will I see you again tomorrow night?”

“I’ll see you then.”

The next few nights on the cruise passed like this; with Marianna performing then spending the rest of her time with the male before retiring to her room for the night.

However, the ravenette never got any sleep, too haunted by previous events, just lying in bed bored out of her mind until the sun came up and breakfast was being served.

On the seventh night at sea, the ravenette let out a groan before she put her mask on and walked out the the empty deck under the light of the full moon.

“Silver light, she turned her face up to the starlit sky, and on this night began to wonder why,” Rhamina sung as she leaned onto the railing, “She knew that soon the day would come.”

“Born to be, an heir of beauty and serenity. Into this world she entered quietly,” she continued, locks drifting with the salty ocean wind as her eyes drifted shut, “To her surprise she was the one.”

“Destiny was close behind her, Phantom of borrowed life,” a familiar feeling of ease washed over her, “And the sea was a reminder. Mirror of given light.”

“Then one day the sign she’d been waiting for in skies of grey, traversed a winding road and came her way,’ a small golden glow came from the ring on the chain around her neck, “She found the love she hoped she would.”

“But she knew that she had promises to stay true to, the dormant daughter of the silver moon,” her hair started to float as a soft purple aura surrounded her, “Then all at once she understood.”

“Destiny was close behind her. Phantom of borrowed life. And the sea was a reminder. Mirror of given light.”

“From the sky she watched the life she’s known she would leave behind,” small crystals of ice began to float around her, “said goodbye and gave her people life through her sacrifice.”

The sound of someone clapping caused the female to jump as she turned to see the male who had been keeping her company.

“Dear Lord, give a girl a some warning next time,” the blonde playfully chided as her hair gave back in to gravity, “Could have given me a heart attack.”

“I’m sorry,” the male chuckled as he joined the female by the railing, “It’s just that you gave an outstanding performance as usual.”

“Thank you,” she replied before the two stood in silence, enjoying the sea breeze and sound of the waves.

“Beautiful,” the male said suddenly as the female’s eyes were closed.

“Isn’t it?” she asked, looking up to the moon, “she has a light and dark side, but beautiful all the same.”

“I’m not talking about the moon,” the male spoke as he took the female’s hand.

“What a beautiful voice and interesting personality,” the male listed, “With such soft, rich skin.”

‘Huh?’

“Long, luscious locks the color of a starless night.”

‘What?’ Rhamina thought, frozen in place as the male tilted her face up to look him in the eyes.

“And such beautiful eyes full of gold,” he finished, “I just have to wonder why you hide from me?”

“How can you see me?” she asked in shock as she was caged in between him and the railing, “Only those who have seen my true face should be able to see through it, so how?”

“I believe it’s time I give you my name, Prinsesa,” he spoke, leaning in to whisper in her ear.

“My name is Assad.”

Crash!

~~~Fin. Chapter 4~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Song used: Daughter of the Moon - Adriana Figueroa

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[underachievers-please-try-harder]

Interview // Sassy 009

Appeared in Issue 138 of Loud and Quiet. Read online.

Despite describing herself as “super curious”, Sunniva Lindgaard has always hung back in social situations. “As a child, I could stare at other kids playing in my street for hours without going over to them and saying hello,” she explains over the phone from her Oslo apartment, laughing as she recalls eventually breaking the deadlock “after way too long staring”.

Of course, there’s a lot to be said for being reserved, and for embracing self-imposed solitude, which society tends to confuse for loneliness. Certainly, Sunni seems upbeat today discussing the decision to revert Sassy 009 to a solo project, following the departures of bandmates Teodora Georgijevic and Johanna Scheie Orellana at the start of the year. As she tells it, the whole process was “very natural, really”, though she’s polite yet firm in her refusal to reveal whether the split was amicable.

“I’m used to working alone with music,” she insists, silencing my digging. “[When Sassy 009 was a three-piece] I made the music first on my own, and then we finished the tracks together. So the process now is just taking away the part of presenting my ideas to someone else who has their opinions and their input. And now it’s about the friction inside myself instead of friction with other people.”

Sunni has always been an independent spirit. Born to classically-trained musicians, she spent her early years immersed in music, first in Stockholm – where she was born – and then in Oslo, where she moved with her mother at the age of six, following her parents’ separation. Concerts and recitals were a regular fixture of her childhood, as were music lessons, with Sunni picking up and subsequently quitting violin, cello, flute, piano and double bass. “I think I just had teachers that didn’t really understand that I just wanted to play,” she reflects. “And I was so caught up in playing beautifully, instead of practising techniques and methods… So I guess classical music has been a big part of my life, but I’ve also always been kind-of rejecting it.”

Her epiphany came in eighth grade, when she signed up to her high school’s music course. “I picked the course quite randomly, thinking we [would be] playing in a band or whatever. But we were given these different tasks on the computer, making covers of a song, like, actually producing music. So that was my strange route into understanding that [music] is something that I really, really love to do.”

Inspired by watching female producers like Grimes thriving, Sunni started uploading her productions to SoundCloud, with her page’s throwaway handle ‘Sassy 009’ adopted as a placeholder name for the project, which subsequently stuck. However, it was some time later, while attending folk school, that she invited childhood friends Teodora and Johanna to collaborate on the project. As Sunni recalls, from that point onwards things accelerated rapidly.

“I had never played in a band myself, so this was just a thing we threw out there. Everything just went so fast: it took half a year or something from when we became a band to when we met [producer] Andrew [Murray, AKA Baya] and things started going quite well.”

Quite well counts as an understatement: their single ‘Pretty Baby’ received glowing praise from press in both the US and UK – who adored its techno-rooted take on electro-pop – and soon the trio were touring internationally, including performing before Norwegian royalty at SXSW. Their debut EP, Do You Mind, arrived in November of 2017. They didn’t know it at the time, but it was to be their last release as a three-piece.

Now back after a break, Sunni is reclaiming Sassy 009 as a one-woman project with eight-song collection Kill Sassy 009, due at the end of November. Recorded in Baya’s studios at Luft Recordings, just outside of Oslo, the EP pools Sunni’s most experimental work yet. On lead single ‘Thrasher’, dreamy harmonies collide with distorted synth effects, like some fucked up cross-hybrid of Smerz and Crystal Castles. An ethereal yet abrasive mix of eerie vocals and skittering beats, ‘Maybe In Summer’ evokes Halfaxa-era Grimes, while ‘Are You Still A Lover’ channels Sunni’s lifelong love of Joy Division, adding reverb-laden post-punk guitars and a Peter Hook-style bassline to the haunting soundscape.

As she explains – in terms that are deliberately vague – the EP was born out of a period of intense turbulence, and it captures the ensuing disorientation. “I realised that the songs that I picked for this record came together as a result of the emotions I’d been going through this last year,” she says. “You know, just things that happen in your life and to people you love that you can’t really choose. The songs were recorded at quite different times, so it was more picking about what felt true to me now. And it feels good to hear those songs put together.

“I had a really hard time picking a title for this record,” she continues, warming to the topic. “Then I just thought, ‘What’s the strongest word that we have in our language?’ And, in my opinion, ‘kill’ is. It’s so dark and intense and strict. For a long time I’d been picking the songs for the record without having a title, and without knowing what the real thread was. The title came to me after I put these songs together, because I realised that Sassy 009 was so close to disappearing for me as well. I was so close to giving it up and doing something completely different, and I realised that this trial was the thing I had to go through to make a record. It’s a very strong title. I love it.”

In terms of the creative process, very little has altered from her earliest musical experiments, with Sunni still doing the lion’s share of her composition using software synths in Logic, though her recent acquisition of a hardware synth suggests those methods are likely to change in the future. And without Teodora’s and Johanna’s input Baya proved an indispensable sounding board for ideas, as well as acting as co-producer. Though, as Sunni explains, she isn’t entirely comfortable embracing with the tag of producer.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about this to be honest. I’ve been seeing myself as a producer for all these years – making songs and posting them on SoundCloud – but in the last couple of months I’ve realised that producing is a term I’m quite afraid of putting on myself, because it means so much. I think people are a little bit confused about what it means, because nowadays everyone can produce music with programmes and stuff. I’ve come to a point where I see myself more as a songwriter and composer than a producer.”

And yet both terms feel like a major underestimation of Sunni’s talents, and of her complex productions, which are a world away from straightforward singer-songwriter fare. She almost acknowledges as much in her description of EP-opener ‘Okay’ as a “very deconstructed song that somehow still feels constructed”, and again later when discussing the genesis of ‘Thrasher’.

“I was very inspired by the energy M.I.A. has in her music,” she says, “and how [songs] can be strict and beautiful at the same time. So [‘Thrasher’] is a track of extremities put together: sharp, intense beats and beautiful melodies, screaming and calming synths and harmonies. It was me trying to wrap a feeling into a track for a few minutes. When I made the track I was in a very dark place in my life, so I was letting myself know it’s ok to feel these things. Because in that moment in my life I didn’t really feel like things were going to be ok.”

Thankfully, this period cuts a stark contrast with her life now, where there is much to look forward to. As well as the release of Kill Sassy 009, Sunni hopes to finally share the collaborative track she wrote with Clairo last November (tentatively entitled ‘Lara’, after the Tomb Raider protagonist). And then there’s studio time booked in with Baya for December to work on new material. “I’ve been watching Stranger Things and I’m super inspired by it,” she gushes.

For now, however, Sunni is simply excited for people to hear the new EP. “I feel like it’s good music for when you’re wanting to dig into something within yourself, perhaps while you’re walking through the night.” There’s a pause, before she instructs with a smile, “Listen alone.”

[sinceileftyoublog]

Pitchfork Music Festival 2017: 7/14-7/16

Clif’s Cassette Collage

BY JORDAN MAINZER

Last year’s Pitchfork featured wild-card non-headliners and a deep rest of the festival. This year? Not so much. LCD Soundsystem headlined last year’s Lollapalooza Sunday, and this year saw them headlining the first day of a smaller festival. Saturday featured a massive farewell tour in the form of A Tribe Called Quest. Sunday’s headliner was Solange, an artist coming off of her career best work that held up even in the face of her more famous sister’s equally strong work. There were reunions and rare performers. This was going to be the biggest Pitchfork ever, right? 

Well, only if you’re talking about the length of the lines. Instead, Pitchfork somehow retained its intimacy (besides those lines). Much of the music was undoubtedly laid back, even the hip hop sets decidedly minimal as opposed to past ones by the likes of Kendrick Lamar and Chance the Rapper. There was room for the experimental, the theatrical, and the combination of the two. Overall, the festival continues to book daringly and, more importantly, more women and people of color than almost any other major pop music festival. Like last year, there was no one true standout the way there has been in past years, but there were still sets that exceeded, met, and performed below my expectations.

Read on as I sort the many different sets I saw into distinct categories relating to everything from content to how they fit within the quintessential festival experience.

THE NOSTALGIC

Ride

It may have been delayed by over twenty minutes. You may not have been able to hear lead singer Mark Gardener that well. Their new album may be just okay. But as soon as Ride played the opening notes to “Seagull”, you knew exactly why even a 20-years-later version of the band is booked late in the day to play a major festival. Simply put, the songs from Nowhere and their early EPs were flat-out gorgeous.

The Feelies

Talk about a band that takes their time, whether it’s releasing albums or even just building up a song. The Feelies took from their earliest (Crazy Rhythms and The Good Earth) and their latest (2011′s Here Before and this year’s In Between). Lead singer Glenn Mercer’s gentle voice may have sounded a bit weak at times, but the band’s jangly guitar pop and krautrock arrangements were perfect for grooving on a temperate Saturday afternoon.

Arab Strap

One of the best sets of the festival came from a band that I love that I totally expected to not translate live. The Scottish electronica-imbued spoken word from Arab Strap sounded great, with more singing and noise than expected. Front-man Aidan Moffat sucked down Four Star Pilsners and complained how hot the stage was as if they were litanies in one of his songs. His penchant for remembering the lyrics of his own songs is impressive, and even if he had to read them by the time the anthemic “The First Big Weekend” came along, he was just as much the star of the show as the rest of the band.

THE OLD-TIMEY

Hamilton Leithauser

The Walkmen were always a band whose slower songs recalled waltzes or stories told by your grandparents. Hamilton Leithauser & Rostam Batmanglij’s I Had A Dream That You Were Mine one-upped that last year, with its clinking pianos and string flourishes going for an unabashedly retro aesthetic, including everything from doo wop to folktales. Live, Leithauser and his band recreated that perfectly. He’s always had a hell of a voice, his wail equally as strong as his Dylan-esque sneer. “Rough Going (I Won’t Let Up)” was an exemplary intro, “A 1000 Times” a giant sing-along, “1959″ an effective vocal solo as opposed to the duet album version. 

As Joey Purp played from the Blue Stage, Leithauser recalled being sonically overwhelmed by the nearby XX. “Everybody left NYC...because they couldn’t afford a practice space without a fucking band next door,” he shared before launching into the gorgeous “Where The Truth Is...” Old and bitter’s never sounded so sweet.

THE MELANCHOLY

Angel Olsen

As a band in matching suits entered the stage, I thought to myself, “Am I really about to see Angel Olsen?” The last time I had seen her was at Lincoln Hall on the Burn Your Fire For No Witness Tour, and apparently, she’s gotten way bigger since then. Her set started out strong with some country-indebted kiss offs: “High & Wild”, “Shut Up Kiss Me”, “Give It Up”, and “Not Gonna Kill You” all retained both the treble-heavy sheen and lyrical rawness of their studio versions. But the back half of the set was enough to put you to sleep in succession. Half Way Home’s “Acrobat” is a great song, as is “Sister”, the laid-back and jazzy “Those Were The Days”, and “Woman”, but after the first four in a row, they only served to bring you down.

Weyes Blood

Natalie Mering’s amazing, Joni Mitchell-esque voice is best suited for a club setting. Even last year’s Weyes Blood album Front Row Seat to Earth, a characteristically upbeat one for Mering’s standards, is not really ideal for a weekend day festival slot. Her voice on “Generation Why” and “Used to Be” was stunning and she either sang by herself on stage or played keys in front of her band, and the lap steel guitar on “Seven Words” gave a haunting quality to that song, but the set overall was too low key to keep non-die hard fans interested.

THE MIND-NUMBING

Colin Stetson

You know what you're getting with Colin Stetson, but that doesn’t stop him from mesmerizing me every time. His Pitchfork set was his most impressive from a curatorial standpoint. Stetson picked songs that showed off his limber playing (“The Righteous Wrath of an Honorable Man”), creative percussion (“Judges”), and even Aphex Twin influences (“Between Water and Wind). Earlier this year, Stetson released an album that was good but didn’t offer much new, but during his Pitchfork set,  Not one song sounded like another.

William Tyler

The word “virtuoso” is tossed around a lot, but it’s actually appropriate for William Tyler. With a great band at his side (including Phil Cook, doing double duty with Tyler and Hiss Golden Messenger), Tyler played most of last year’s Modern Country to sheer perfection. From the summery “Sunken Garden” to the described “country meets krautrock” of “I’m Gonna Live Forever”, the set was unexpectedly loud and jammy. The percussion breakdown of “Gone Clear” was even more haunting than it was on record, “The Great Unwind” noisy. He closed with “Highway Anxiety”, whose recognizable opening riffs caused anything but a sense of dread--more a sense of comfort and calm amidst a sea of festival-goers.

THE BLISTERING

Jeff Rosenstock

The most energetic set of the festival came from something I never thought I’d ever hear at Pitchfork: something resembling ska. Indeed, Jeff Rosenstock and his band played songs off of last year’s Worry to devoted fans who knew every single word. Rosenstock took the opportunity to do what he usually does--be a shithead with a sense of humor. The dynamic frontman walked out to Weird “Al” Yankovich Red Hot Chili Peppers parody “Bedrock Anthem”. He had the crowd do two different waves. He had a couple great wisecracks (“I'd like to give a shout-out to the Pitchfork worker who got fired for booking us at this festival.”) and admitted that he and his band received $7,500 to play, a hefty sum for self-labelled shitty punks but not for pretty much anybody else. All this Rosenstock brought with the desire to get the crowd to shout along, mosh, and look out for each other.

The crowd moshes--and cools off with sprayed water--during Jeff Rosenstock

Danny Brown

I’ve seen Danny Brown 3 times at Pitchfork alone, and he gets bigger and better every time. Far from the sex-obsessed weirdo who had just released XXX a year prior in 2012 (ok, not that far), this year’s clean-cut Brown didn’t need much besides his usual DJ. Without much of a breath, he burned through favorites like “Side B (Dope Song)”, “Monopoly”, and “Growin’ Up” before playing off of last year’s landmark Atrocity Exhibition. The four-punch of “Ain’t It Funny”, “Really Doe” (which he impressively delivered considering the best part of that song is Earl Sweatshirt’s verse), “When It Rain”, and “Pneumonia” showed that every time the workman comes to Pitchfork, he has a new batch to add to his growing list of classics.

THE POLITICAL

Madame Gandhi

Four years ago, Madame Gandhi found herself on a Pitchfork stage drumming for M.I.A. Four years later, she opened up Pitchfork on the same stage, this time her own show. She still did plenty of drumming--as did many of her dancers, all clad in yellow hazmat-looking suits--but mostly rapped and ready feminist literature. Too easy? Maybe, but the energy she brought to even a capella performances of her songs attracted crowd members looking to dance and feel empowered.

Priests

"You want something to move away for / A reason to colonize,” belted Priests singer Katie Alice Greer. Her stage presence and siren of a voice may have distracted a festival crowd from how subversive her lyrics are, especially on catchy songs like “JJ” and post-punk stompers like “Nothing Feels Natural”. Priests aren���t a perfect live band, either; the guitars on “JJ” were a bit out of tune, bassist Taylor Multiz’s mic was turned down too far on “Suck”, and “Nicki” was messy. But what’s important is that the same band who released Nothing Feels Natural was on display. (Drummer Daniele Daniele admirably performing the spoken word of “No Big Bang” was certainly a highlight). Love ‘em or hate ‘em, there’s nobody like Priests.

THE DISAPPOINTING

Dirty Projectors

Dirty Projectors played Pitchfork in 2012 at the top of their game, Amber Coffman and company’s harmonies the clear highlight, Dave Longstreth’s melodies and craftsmanship translating to the stage. This time around, even with the help of former Battles member Tyondai Braxton, it was painful. “Impregnable Question” missed Coffman. Longstreth’s singing on “Keep Your Name” was as out of tune as Brian Wilson was last year. “Little Bubble” failed to captivate anybody. “Up In Hudson”, the most in-tune, still ended up boring me to the point that I wanted to wait for Arca more than watch Longstreth continue to fall apart in front of an audience.

George Clinton

I could tell that George Clinton and Parliament/Funkadelic were amazing, great players, funk masters, and rappers. But this was just the classic case of bad sound and mic leveling issues making what could have been a highlight set exactly that: a big “what if.”

THE DAY-SAVING

Nicolas Jaar

At first minimal and noisy, which didn’t go well among the crowd dealing with the uncharacteristically dwindling July evening temperatures, Nicolas Jaar eventually led into a bass-heavy set more dance than anyone could have imagined. He occasionally sang-spoke into the mic but mostly stood at his laptops, his stage lights a blazing orange, his music drowning out American Football on the Blue Stage. For those wanting a party set from The Avalanches, who had to cancel their performance, this was the next best thing.

A Tribe Called Quest

I could have put A Tribe Called Quest’s set in many of these categories, but when they came on, all I could think about was how thankful I was to hear something truly energetic. The pinnacle of all no-bullshit hip-hop sets at Pitchfork, the now-trio launched right into “The Space Program” from last year’s excellent We Got It From Here… Thank You 4 Your Service. From there, they played highlights from that album but mixed in all the classics: “Excursions”, “Bonita Applebum”, “Electric Relaxation”, “Check the Rhyme”, “Can I Kick It?”, and “Award Tour”. Q Tip not only rapped but sounded great--at a stage earlier in the day experiencing sound problems, his voice rang clearly to a crowd wanting to hear him preach. Best, when any Phife Dawg verse came up, they let it play sans interruption, the screens on each side of the stage focusing on the empty microphone.

LCD Soundsystem

If I had to withstand any of Dirty Projectors and then leave Arca early, then LCD better put on a show. They did. They headlined in 2010 around the release of This Is Happening, maybe the best show I’ve ever seen. This time around, they played virtually the same set they did last year at Lollapalooza plus the two released new songs, the building “Call the Police” and night-time ditty “American Dream”. They may be a bigger band now, and they’re certainly older, but in the time they’ve been gone, you grow to appreciate not just their live brilliance, but their ability to get even curmudgeons to dance. Murphy may still be snotty; thankfully, he can still write great songs.

THE EARNEST

Vagabon

Infinite Worlds, the debut album from Vagabon, is one of the strongest debuts of the year, so it was quite the move to open with one of its most powerful songs, the slow-building “Cold Apartment”. The rest of the set, though, showed off singer and guitarist Laetitia Tamko’s finger picking and vocals. Her voice in particular was beautiful when isolated among minimal instrumentation, though at times when she tried to rise above louder songs she was out of tune. Even if not picture perfect, Tamko was not only happy to be there but left it all out on stage, performing album highlights like “Cleaning House” and “The Embers”.

The crowd watching Vagabon very intently

Hiss Golden Messenger

Hiss Golden Messenger’s brand of country rock may have fallen on deaf ears at a festival very slowly embracing genres previously maligned by the bleeding edge hip. But that’s not the fault of the band. Running through tracks from Haw, Lateness of Dancers, Heart Like a Levee, and an upcoming album, they may not have won any new fans but confirmed for the faithful why they belonged, their pleasant and easy going instrumentation and lead singer M.C. Taylor’s existential laments making for a reflective set. Their final song, a new one called “When the Wall Comes Down”, is about exactly what you think it’s about (wait six more months for an overabundance of released “wall”-related recordings), but it was none the less powerful and a statement of togetherness.

THE THEATRICAL

Kilo Kish

The set from frequent Vince Staples collaborator Kilo Kish started out with her sitting on a chair reading a copy of The New Yorker, pretending not to notice the audience. You can guess where it went from there. While her voice always sounded good, her interpretive dancing, props, and forced falls to the stage made me want to roll my eyes more than clap. With only a DJ to back her up with tracks--a strange mix of R&B, hip hop, and jazz beats--it made for one of the more disappointing fests of the festival.

PJ Harvey

The last two albums from PJ Harvey--2011′s instant classic Let England Shake and 2016′s mediocre The Hope Six Demolition Project--are both concept albums. When the first nine songs you play are from those albums, and in mixed order, it comes across like a Decemberists set on steroids. Entering with a marching band (her band consisted of both longtime collaborator John Parish and the very active ex-Bad Seed Mick Harvey) and a sax in her hand, Harvey came across as equally witchy and goofy. The jazzy “Let England Shake” went along with the black and white video of the performance, but it wasn’t until she performed three 90s favorites that the crowd went wild--“50ft Queenie”, “Down By The Water”, and “To Bring You My Love”. For how good those three sounded, the set was worth it.

[cosmonautmusicreviews]

Run The Jewels 3-Run The Jewels (2017)

   Run The Jewels is arguably the most prolific rap duo in the game right now, comprised of El-P and Killer Mike two of the most important people in their respective scenes they have released many collaborative efforts together and all of them receiving heaps of praise. El-P is from Brooklyn and Killer Mike from Atlanta two very different forms of rapping that clashed on their first full release together (Run The Jewels) sounding like an extension of the work on R.A.P. music, but preceding that record they worked together extensively. Killer Mike has featured on El-P projects like Cancer 4 Cure and El-P produced the entirety of Killer Mike’s R.A.P. Music, both of those records I would recommend for a rap fan of any degree. Run The Jewels 2 is when they actually came into their own bombastic intelligent and hilarious style of rap, Oh My Darling Don’t Cry, Close Your Eyes, and Angel Dust are all absolute bangers off of RTJ 2 they had found their flow and they found it good. But Run the Jewels 3, delivered on Christmas as if to say Mike is black Santa, is an improvement upon an already well functioning formula.

   The first three tracks ease you into the record. I don’t really enjoy them all that much but they’re not bad. “Down” has a good message and good chorus vocals, “Talk to Me” has a smooth guitar, and “Legend Has It” is a good banger but these tracks just feel like generic club bangers that are above average. The first track that I really like is “Call Ticketron” the constant pulsing bass and descending 8 bit sounding synths are really just infectious. El- P and Killer Mike have good verses and the hook is catchy but kind of underwhelming but the track is still very good and it starts off the hype section of the record. “Hey Kids (Bumaye)” is another banger but is refreshing with Mummy reminiscent melody in the beat which is another pounding beat, Danny Brown’s feature was very energetic but I have a personal gripe against having a feature just for a features sake and that’s what Danny is hear for the most part but none the less the track is still one of my favorite tracks on the record because of the energy and the “BUMAYE” hook. “Stay Gold” is another one of my favorite tracks on this records the beat is just so fast it is speeding down the grooves of the golden record that I currently can’t afford the high hats and whatever that other noise is that sounds so good. This song is a very fun song that talks about girls with brains and asses (just what El-P wished for on RTJ 1) and kidnapping victims who have Stockholm syndrome so deep that they bake pies for the crew. It’s all just great and I genuinely laughed at this track.

   Don’t get Captured fires off the more serious side of this record, it talks about giving in to a society that doesn’t operate in your interest and getting stuck in a ghetto environment. The hook is something that can be chanted by people attempting to get out of the ghetto or working up the courage to quit their jobs and tell the boss to fuck off. I love this track because Mike and El paint bleak pictures and put very belligerent ideas in the listener’s head. “Thieves (Screamed the Ghost)” is the first time the record really slows down and explains the narrative of a ghost. I like this track because of how it flows musically the interaction between Mike and El and back up Mike and El and the chorus has majestic violins and Tunde Adebimpe gifting his beautiful yet haunting voice in the hook and the end tail of this track. Up next is my favorite song on this record is “2100” the BOOTS feature is absolutely sensational and the beat is very heavy as well as the subject matter.  A cry for peace and a stop for war and greed, this shows that the mentality of Run the Jewels is maturing. “Partner Like a Panther” is less serious but none the less is a good song. The hook is one of the most memorable in the entire album and the flows are buttery smooth.

   The album calms down with “Everybody Stay Calm” the beat is more subdued and the hook is simple. Killer Mike sounds the most southern on this track and I like it he doesn’t really get into his southern sounds anymore. “Oh Mama” is another one of my favorite synths. The funky bass synth and the lead guitar riff blows me away however it does remind me a lot of El-P’s production on Cancer 4 Cure and that’s not really a bad thing because I wanted to hear more of that sound out of him. The second to last track is “Thursday in the Danger Room”. It’s about losing friends and loved ones it’s a very hard hitting track but Kamasi Washington’s feature is massively understated and pushed back in the beat and I wish he did something more prominent as he can get to very intense levels. The two closing tracks are mashed into one. “A Report to the Share Holders” is the first part and the production is absolutely breath taking. It explores ideas of hopelessness and being oppressed. It’s absolutely beautiful and is a juxtaposition to the second part of the last song “Kill Your Masters”, the beat becomes more aggressive and confrontational the surprise appearance from Zach de La Rocha blew my mind a definite improvement from “Close Your Eyes (and Count to Fuck)”.

   This album is great there is no question that Run the Jewels have made 3 of the most important records in modern hip-hop. I was worried that this record was going to be underwhelming especially after the amazing second album. But my fears were proved wrong through songs like “Hey Kids”, “Stay Gold”, “2100” and the closing tracks. This record was amazing and if you’re a fan of hip-hop or just music in general check out this record.

8/10

[kickdownthewalls]

Top 20 Rock/Metal Albums of 2016

Looking at a lot of other 'TOP ALBUMS OF 2016' lists, I rarely see any albums that made my list. Now, I don't think this indicates that I'm out of touch with the current metal scene - I am, sure - but I think it is more a reflection of the incredible wealth and diversity of metal releases we saw this year. Plus, my tastes are more old-school than ever so I'm just more likely to gravitate towards bands like High Spirits and Spellcaster rather than critical darlings like Vektor and Khemmis (even though those bands are great, too). These are simply the 20 records that made the biggest impression and elicited the most repeat spins for me this past year.

20. HERMAN FRANK - The Devil Rides Out

Accept has long been one of my favorite bands and I was sad to see Herman Frank exit the fold a couple years ago. Still, it meant he was able to focus more on his solo work and this is his best album yet. It has a very classic, melodic heavy metal vibe without sounding dated or all that much like Accept, which is pretty impressive. Lots of great guitar-work and some really memorable songs are what led me to rank it in the top 20.

19. ARTILLERY - Penalty By Perception

These Danish thrashers have been releasing quality albums on and off for over 30 years and still remain criminally underrated. This is among their best albums, too, with a wide range of styles from melodic balladry to out-and-out thrashers, very much in the same style as their classic By Inheritance. Artillery deliver great riffs and leads but, first and foremost, great songs.

18. ALCEST - Kodama

Here is a great example of how many releases are coming out these days. Alcest is a band I have been following since the Écailles de lune came out and yet, until yesterday, I had no idea that they had released a new album last year. Not only that, it is one of their best and a real return to form, walking the perfect balance between post-black metal and shoegaze rock.

17. BLOOD CEREMONY - Lord Of Misrule

This band's previous opus made #1 on my list in 2014 and for good reason. Their unique mix of 60s occult rock and doom metal (with some well-placed flute) is still fully intact on the follow-up. The songs here didn't strike me initially quite as powerfully as the last one but they are growing on me and this would probably rank even higher a few months from now.

16. TESTAMENT - Brotherhood Of The Snake

One of the few here that seems to be making a lot of lists, it is really hard to fault this record at all. The last two albums have been quite good, too, but this one just feels like a new level of quality all around. The songs are more diverse, more memorable, better produced and feature some great performances from everyone, esp. Gene Hoglan. The Bay Area thrash scene is on fire this year.

15. DEATH ANGEL - The Evil Divide

With the exception of Killing Season, I have loved every Death Angel album (and even that one was okay by most band's standards). The Evil Divide is not their absolute best but it is really solid and has the usual superb combination of melody, speed, emotion, and clever songwriting. While it was sad to see them lose original members over the years, the current line-up is absolutely killer and they really deliver here.

14. OCCULT BURIAL - Hideous Obscure

Another great band emerges from Canada, this time playing raw and brutal first wave black metal with hints of Bathory, Venom and early Sodom. The production is lo-fi but absolutely works and you can actually hear all the instruments remarkably well. Cool, unexpected guitar solos and drum fills help fill out the wonderfully primitive songs. A lot of bands attempt this sound but few succeed this triumphantly.

13. DEATHSTORM - Blood Beneath The Crypts

This is one of those albums I almost overlooked, even though I am a fan of their previous work. This is pure, hi-energy thrash circa 1985, with elements of of Hell Awaits, Endless Pain and Morbid Visions mixed together quite nicely. Powerful, raw, and brutal, with enough variety in tempo and killer riffing to make it a standout.

12. MOONSORROW - Jumalten aika

Moonsorrow has long been my standard for epic pagan metal and their latest is yet another gem. Composed of four 12-16 minute tracks and one 'short' one (7 minutes), it is not a quick or easy listen but is highly rewarding. The balance of black, viking and folk metal elements is perfect and seems to come so naturally to Moonsorrow.

11. STRIKER - Stand In The Fire

This Canadian lot has been around for a few years now and, as far as I'm concerned, have never done a bad album. Lots of soaring vocals, memorable riffs and pummeling double-bass drums are served up with a top-notch, modern-sounding production job.

10. SPELLCASTER - Night Hides The World

Portland is home to many a hipster 'metal' band (some of which are actually quite good) but there are also some die-hard old-school metal acts calling it home these days. Spellcaster started off as a good if somewhat unorginal US power metal band but quickly took off on a journey all their own. Their third record has hints of speed metal, NWOBHM, 70s hard rock, 80s AOR, 90s power metal, and everything in between. There is a haunting quality to the band's sound that is rather intoxicating.

9. EXUMER - The Raging Tides

This is like the greatest Bay Area thrash album to ever come out of Germany. Seriously ripping material in the vein of early Testament, Exodus and Vio-lence. In thrash it is all about the riff and Exumer deliver some great ones that more than makes up for any lack of originality.

8. PRIMAL FEAR - Rulebreaker

After two decades pumping out quality metal, I kind of take Primal Fear for granted sometimes. Rulebreaker isn't their greatest album and it sounds very much like the last couple but, taken on its own merits, it kicks some serious ass. Ralf Scheepers is one of my all-time fave vocalists and Mat Sinner still comes up with great, super-heavy riffs and the combination is just magic.

7. LUCIFER'S HAMMER - Beyond The Omens

Despite a cover that puts one in the mind of black or doom metal, this Chilean outfit play a very old-school brand of metal that could have come out on Ebony or Neat Records back in 1982. Imagine a mix of Chateaux, Crucifixion, Tyton, and Warlord and you won't be far off. Lots of melody and upfront basslines mixed with judicious use of speed make for a refreshing sound that doesn't sound like anyone else out there right now.

6. BRAINSTORM - Scary Creatures

These Germans have always had their own mix of heavy riffs and melodic vocals that is powerful metal without really being power metal. They also seem to have been somewhat on autopilot after the awesome Downburst back in 2008. Happily, the fire has returned and Scary Creatures ranks up there with the band's finest work, combining top-notch musicianship, punchy production, and ten highly memorable tunes.

5. METALLICA - Hardwired...To Self-Destruct

I'm sure I will end up writing a much longer review of this long-awaited album (like I did with St. Anger and Death Magnetic), but I generally was quite pleased with it. Surprisingly so. There were only a couple tunes on the whole thing that I didn't care for (Halo on Fire, Am I Savage?), but even those had some moments that are worth the listen. Mainly, it sounds like a cross between Justice and the black album but there are also some bits of Kill 'em All and Load thrown in, too. The biggest improvement over Death Magnetic is in the arrangements, which sound much more like the finely-crafted and well-balanced songs that made Metallica famous than the somewhat haphazard DM songs. Best album since Justice, hands down. Also, worst album cover since like ever, sadly.

4. BABY WOODROSE - Freedom

One of my fave psych/garage bands ever since the Love Comes Down album hit me a decade ago. While I have enjoyed some albums more than others, they all have their moments and Freedom has some real classics like "Reality" and ultra-trippy "Termination" that capture the same magic that the 60s tunes that inspired them had.

3. DELAIN - Moonbathers

While much of my list is old-school metal, there are some more modern bands doing some cool stuff and Delain are one of my faves. Though clearly at the pop end of the symphonic metal scene, they deliver such good, memorable songs, I find myself returning time and again. Charlotte Wessels has one of those great voices that makes even the less memorable tracks highly listenable. Super psyched to finally see these guys with HammerFall this year.

2. FLOTSAM AND JETSAM - Flotsam And Jetsam

At one time, F&J were rising stars on a major label with two killer thrash albums under their belt. Then the 90s hit and the wheels came off. After several mediocre albums and a truly awful attempt to remake No Place For Disgrace, I had lost hope but then this album came out and DAMN! The intensity and quality songwriting of those first two records were back, along with a kick-ass production, great solos, and Eric A.K.'s best vocal performance in a couple of decades.

1. HIGH SPIRITS - Motivator

When I heard the Another Night album a few years back, I was blown away and hooked right away. Somehow, the magic didn't return on You Are Here in 2014 but holy hell it sure has on Motivator. All the classic hard rock and metal elements from the 70s and 80s are assembled in a very distinctive manner here on nine highly memorable songs. Right up there with The Night Flight Orchestra and The Dagger as one of my favorite no-frills, retro-minded bands.

As much as 2016 was a disaster in terms of losing great actors and musicians (not to mention that fucking election), it did produce quite a number of great albums. Beyond the twenty above, I also had much love for new releases from SAVAGE MASTER, SODOM, AXXION, SPELL, ATTACKER, ZODIAC, SUMERLANDS, PRETTY MAIDS, DARKNESS, ROTÖR, ABBATH, SPIRITUAL BEGGARS, CAUCHEMAR, BURNING POINT, BELLA D, TREES OF ETERNITY, KATATONIA, SERIOUS BLACK, and probably a bunch more that I’m forgetting or just haven’t heard yet. Plus, some great EPs and demos from SUBSTRATUM, SOURCE, CANDLEMASS, CROSS VAULT, TAARKUS and VOIVOD.

[sunriseoverastorea]

Home

♬ Jeremy Soule - Far Horizons

Day 5

I think it's been five days—but I could be off, one or two. Been out of it a lot. And now I'm finally out of the doctor's office. Hosta thinks I'm hilarious. Refusing to stay in bed, but with nowhere to be. I can't just sit around waiting to heal. I have to explore, even if I can't get very far. Today, I saw Hosta's bakery, and she gave me this tart wedge thing. Then I stopped at what constitutes a general store here, and bought myself better clothes with money from Telford. They're still not what I'd choose to wear, but at least I have pants now, and boots that fit me. And sturdy leather gloves—to hide my hands with. Telford is fascinated by my prosthetics, and swears he won't tell anyone about them. I don't have much choice but to trust him.

 She sits on her cot in Telford's practice, slowly, painfully bending her legs, and tucking them up against her chest. She maneuvers a crudely cut copper coin between her fingers, concentrating on keeping the coin in motion. Time and again, it falls to the wrinkled bed sheets, and she sighs softly, watching her fingers fold and clench around the coin, lethargic as if weighted beneath a mile of water. Seized by frustration, she hurls the coin across the room, where it dings harmlessly against the front door, and she pounds her fists against the bed, crying out in the sudden flash of pain that sears across her burns.

Day 10

Got my own place now. Funded by Telford, of course. Paid a month in advance for a room in the inn. He let me take a bunch of his books with me, and my reading is improving, if very slowly. Their language may strongly resemble ours, but their alphabet does not. Not in the slightest. Anyway, I get to see the crappy bard that Hosta's always talking about. He plays downstairs in the tavern, so I'm gonna try and listen every night, learn whatever I can from his tall tales. There's so much to learn—an entire world to understand. I feel like it hasn't sunk in yet. If it weren't for the complete lack of magic, I wouldn't even know I had left Tyria. I have to keep reminding myself that this is an alien land. I am stranded, many of my most valuable possessions lost. I don't know what's going to happen to me, but just as in Tyria, it seems I can't look back. Only ahead, at what bridges I haven't already burned.

She perches upon the stairs coming down from the second floor of the inn, and watches the bard attentively. An older man, with a plain face and plain clothes, but a rich, sonorous voice. Gnarled fingers strum effortlessly upon a fine lute, and stories of fallen kingdoms fill the hush of the tavern, seeming to bring life back to the worn wooden walls, reminding them they were once great trees. Marea strains to understand the even more melodic lilt of the Middle-Earth accent when sung, and every now and then, her concentration is shattered—blackness and silver stars fill her vision, assaulting her in rare moments of peace, and she jerks her face away, trying to hide, though the void always returns in time, a lingering tune that she can't get out of her head, that haunts her with its sweet, empty melody.

Day 30

I've memorized some of the bard's stories. A few of Telford's books, too. Not much else to do than read and listen. I've talked some with the townspeople, though I try not to be too friendly. They all know who I am, the strange foreigner from the south that showed up looking like she just rolled out of a bonfire. I don't want to accidentally do anything that will arouse suspicion. I should have the upper hand here, but without guns and magic, and with my skin too fucked up to move fast with a dagger, I can't risk a witch hunt. The people are nice, though. Curious, but harmless, so far. In a lot of ways, talking to them is just like talking to someone in Tyria. The farmers talk about their crops, shopkeepers gossip, and kids stare at me and whisper, until I lunge at them and go 'boo!' Then they scatter like roaches, good riddance. Still, even with all they have in common on the surface, these people feel different. I can't put my finger on what it is. Every time I think I understand them, some small thing puts me back to square one. One of those teenage habit-things tried to steal a cupcake from Hosta yesterday, and when she spotted him, he ran off laughing with his prize, and she only shook her spatula and yelled at him. Just let him go without a fight. I guess it's not that strange. I guess.

She goes downstairs in the wee hours of the morning. Dreams interrupted by starry space, she seeks respite in the waking world, though her eyes droop with the weariness of many sleepless nights. She sits at the empty bar, staring at the sparsely stocked shelves. She perches on the edge of a table, rolling a salt shaker between her hands. She crouches down before the fireplace, ashes still simmering faintly, and in those ashes she sees a thousand twinkling universes. So she quickly turns away, and spies a pile of bags by the double front doors. Atop them rests a small harp, fit to be carried around with ease while slung over one shoulder. It fits perfectly in her hands, the arms on either side formed of delicately carved ivory, silver strings glinting like pale silk spiderwebs.

She closes her eyes, imagining the practiced caress of the bard's knotted old fingers, and she strums a chord. The fleeting music fills the shadowy silence of the deserted tavern, and a smile finds it way onto her face. It feels as if it has been years since she smiled. Even while she looks to the future, the reality of a new reality weighs heavily on her shoulders, and as she clumsily plinks out pretty tunes on the harp, that weight is lifted, and suddenly she can breathe again. Breathe as she did on the deck of the Horizon, high in the skies of Tyria, far from that world and the next. As if she were in her own bubble of space and time, and nothing but the rain could touch her.

A hand grasps her shoulder, and she yelps in surprise, fingers slipping and striking a comically hideous chord on the harp. The bard comes up behind her, one eyebrow raised over a crooked smile, and throws open the front doors, where a horse-drawn wagon loaded with hay awaits him. Marea steps back, watching in confusion as he grabs the bags by the door and throws them up into the wagon, then climbs aboard himself, raising a hand to wave goodbye as he perches upon a golden bale.

“Wait!” The wagon pulls away, the clopping of horse hooves echoing upon the cobblestones of the silent town. “You forgot this!” Marea takes a few hurried steps after the bard, harp held aloft, but her nerves scream in protest, and the man is growing farther away by the moment. He gazes up at the dawning sky, perfectly at peace without his ivory harp. And Marea stands in front of the inn with her new prize, clutching it tightly to her chest.

Day 50

Came to the first town I've seen since leaving Archet. Been practicing a lot between there and here, so hopefully they'll comp me a room at the inn. Sleeping outside here is lovely, but I can't shake the feeling that I'll be unpleasantly surprised by some hitherto impossible threat, native to Middle-Earth. Not that I've found any reason to worry about that here. Almost everyone's been fucking harmless. But there's plenty of time for the universe to prove me wrong. I'm heading south, to a place called Rohan. I've heard the name before, but I don't know where—it almost sounds like a dream, to me. An unreal concept. But I know I've heard it, and if I need a direction to travel, I might as well go there. I have the bard and his tales of 'riders' to thank for that.

Marea plops her butt in a chair on the makeshift stage in the tiny village inn. Only the cook and four grizzled men occupy the room, so hardly a crowd, but even still her skin tingles with nervousness, and she knows her hands would be leaden if she could feel them. She clears her throat, and strums a starting chord, followed by a dramatic, fully unintentional pause, before finally she spits the words out. She sings one of the bard's simpler tales, a silly song about forest critters stealing food from each other, and when she finishes, she promptly gets hit in the eye with a copper coin. The offering seems to be in lieu of clapping, as one of the gruff men stares at her expectantly.

“Thank you, thank you,” she blurts out, shoving the penny down her bodice. “You're too kind.”

The man grins, whether because of her stage presence or the fact that his money went to rest beside her boobs, she will never know. She isn't offered a free room that night, but after singing an hour of songs with her best attempt at a legible accent, she buys herself a bowl of hot meat stew, and cherishes every savory bite after weeks with only roots and berries. When she has licked up every drop, she finds herself a little shelter beneath the trees outside the village, inspects her injuries to ensure none have worsened, then lies down her head in the lush green grass, and dozes with the crickets under a bright full moon.

Day 100

Horses are fucking awesome. God damn, if I ever go back to Tyria, I absolutely have to hunt one down and take it for myself. There's gotta be someone in the world that still has horses, or else we wouldn't all remember them so well. Right? Anyway, this ones name was Lila, but I'm renaming her Indigo. Another play on Inigo, I know, real creative. But she's kinda colored that way—like me, she has a black mane, but it shines blue when it catches the light just right. She's so beautiful. Smaller than a lot of the horses I've seen, but full of energy, and crazy. The other day she went off after a bunny for miles, and I could barely get control of her. Could say it's just because I'm inexperienced, but I think she's extra spunky. And to think, I didn't even have to kill anyone to get her. Just walked off while no one was looking. These people are so damn trusting.

She sits on the edge of the well in the town square, carefully tuning her harp. She must be very careful about it, since she was never properly taught, but she learns quickly through trial and error, and if she doesn't do things in the most practical way, at least she adapts herself as needed. A few families have gathered before her, waiting for the show. A starting crowd of fifteen, the largest she's had.

“May I have your attention,” Marea interjects through the chattering crowd, who immediately go silent and stare at her in confusion. “The accent works wonders, huh?” she jokes, to which the people only stare some more. “Today I will be testing out a new song on you guys, not the classics you know and love, but something that really comes from the heart. So if it sucks, be honest with me afterwards, okay?”

A lone voice calls out from somewhere on the street: “'Sucks?' How would it 'suck?'”

“Not important!” Marea chimes cheerfully, rolling her eyes, and with a careful flick of her damaged fingers, the tale begins.

Day 150

These people love the Ode to Ascalon, holy shit. I'm getting free rooms and meals and kids are singing along with my own accent. I can almost see why people think kids are cute, for the first time in my life. People even recognize me in some places—I step through the gates and they go hey, that's the foreign bard with the one red eye! Damn straight I am, harping my way right into your hearts. I've never been involved with music before this, but it seems I've got a knack, especially when I put my own words into it. I still feel like I'm attracting too much attention, sometimes. If these people saw me the way the Ferny family did, when I first arrived, I'm sure they'd turn on me in a second. But as long as the gun and the prosthetics are tucked away, I'm just a woman from a distant fishing village with odd mismatched eyes and a knack for made-up myths. Although Ascalon is neither made-up nor myth. I wonder if they'd feel differently, knowing it was real.

She sits at the bar of yet another tavern, braiding her hair while she awaits her morning meal. Her once-charred locks reach her shoulders now, and although the braids are stubby and stick out a bit goofily, she's missed having them. Now her frizzy dark halo will stay closely plaited to her skull, out of her eyes, right where it belongs.

Alongside her hair, her body has been healing, too. The skin of her back and her legs is hideous—without the advanced medical knowledge of Tyria, there was nothing to be done except cut away the dead skin, and keep what remained from becoming infected. A patchwork of leathery browns and reds covers her concealed flesh, and she tries to think of it as resembling the bark of a sylvari. But when she looks at her reflection, and confronts the pale whiteness of her chest to the mangled mess of her back, she can't help but feel a certain repulsion. Far worse than the scars of whippings and fights that she once had. Where once she was a map of of brutal tales to tell, now she is the chewed-up and spit out remnants of one tale, one story, a story that still haunts her when she closes her eyes, so that sometimes, she forgets to blink. And when she does blink, those eerie stars rush at her, and she flinches away, much to the concern of those around her.

She can't tell anyone about the visions. As it is, she is only strange. Strange only raises eyebrows. But madness raises weapons.

Day 200

It came upon me so suddenly. I reached the pass between the mountains, just like I was told I would. There was a great tower, easily the most imposing thing I've seen since coming here, but I kept to the shadows and the trees, since it was mentioned at the last town that a powerful wizard resides there, and being a powerful wizard is a much bigger deal here than in Tyria. I'll make it a mystery for another day. All the better to reach my destination.

Though at first I was hesitant to believe I actually made it, it's been a few days now, and there's no questioning that I'm here. I'm on my way to the capital, I think. Most of the people here don't speak the same language as the humans I've been dealing with, so it's been difficult getting around, but they're still nice enough. I've sang a few songs for them. I like to look at them, in as non-creepy a way as possible, because they're familiar. Blue eyes and blonde hair, a fair number looking like they just got back from bench pressing a charrcopter. If I needed more assurance than the land itself, that would do it.

Indigo races across the plains, long grasses parting for her obsidian hooves. In the distance, Marea spots a gaggle of other horseback riders, and waves to them, spirited in the crisp evening air. At first she receives no reply, but after a moment, one man waves back to her, shouting something unintelligible, and Indigo gallops on, over rolling hills bordered all around by massive white mountains. Where the Shiverpeaks are imposing, these craggy, snowy peaks seem to beckon her onward, onto horizon after horizon, forever chasing the last gleam of sunlight as it passes beneath their crystalline pinnacles.

Before she reaches the city, she pauses by a rushing river so Indigo can drink, and she splashes her face with the chilly water. She licks it off her lips, and she tilts her head back to the pale rosy sky, the wind snapping her cape through the air.

“'A place of verdant plains and roaming horses, nestled between two great mountain ranges and a wide, flowing river.' Welcome to the homeland, Marea,” she whispers, a broad smile lighting up her face. She gets on her horse, and they turn towards Edoras, the city on a hill only a mile in the distance. They ride the fading light to a place to rest for the night, and many nights to come.

Day 300

I almost feel sorry for Raigar, that he had to leave this place, for whatever reason, and travel to Tyria. Sure, it isn't perfect. It's backwards and poor in comparison to what I know. But at the same time, there is so much—spirit. There's a wholeness to the people that Tyrians lack. Even when they fight and they suffer, there's none of the bitterness I know from home. If I could call it home. I don't know how I'd get back. And I don't want to go back. I'm learning the speech of the Rohirrim, very, very slowly, but it's not as important in Edoras, since more people speak the common tongue here. They still sound extra funky, as I must to them, but they enjoy my music and I enjoy their fleeting company, so it's not a problem. They take great care of Indigo in the stables, so I never have to worry about her. And there's so much open space—endless open space. It's like something out of a dream. I may not have a ship, but I have a horse and rolling fields. And I think that's more like flying than anything I've experienced before.

She starts the hike around noon, and finally reaches the lookout point in early evening, when the sun is just beginning to sink in the sky. Halfway up one of the smaller mountain peaks, the breeze blowing her long braids behind her, she feels like she beholds the entirety of the world before her. She can see from range to range, river to river, she can see Edoras and half a dozen other villages scattered like crumbs in the distance. Only a fraction of Middle-Earth, an impossibly small grain of sand in the stars of the void. But it is the only world she needs.

It hits her suddenly, and wet tears are streaming down her face. Warmth fills her veins from head to toe, and her heart swells with emotion. She clutches her hands to her chest, and she laughs and she sobs as happiness overwhelms her. She can't say why she is happy, only that her bliss is complete, she watches the sky darken and flush with color as the sun sinks ever lower, and she silently cries that it should never leave her. For when the sun leaves, she feels in the pit of her stomach that she will lose it. She will lose the sun, and though it will rise and set every day to come, it will never be the same, and she will long for the joy that she felt in that moment, for the rest of her life.

Gazing out over the mountains cast in burnished golden light, she feels as if she were lost in a beautiful dream. And if only she could remain lost forever, she would never want for freedom again.

As the sun dips below the mountain peaks, casting the valley in shadow, her ecstasy fades. Even the memory of it grows faint, though she will never forget that it happened. She wipes the last tears from her cheeks, and starts down the path, carefully picking her way through rocks and gravel. About halfway along, she pauses, hearing the crackle of footsteps in the woods nearby. It could be anyone, out for an evening walk, just like her. But for some reason, she finds herself immediately drawn off the trail, into the copse of trees, treading light as a fawn as she searches for her fellow wanderer.

He stands in a small clearing, and gazes at a lone little sapling sprung up through the grass, in contemplation. Tall and broad-shouldered, with long golden hair framing his angular face, in which striking blue eyes are set like sapphires. Though he wears the clothes of the noble Rohirrim, the face is unmistakable, and Marea nearly shouts out his name before she manages to tear herself away, fleeing back to the trail and all the way down the mountain, her mind racing with a thousand questions and confusions.

Later that night, she closely watches the entrance to the city. She sees him return on horseback, greeted warmly by name by villagers and vassals. As he passes her tavern, he catches her eye for a moment, and time seems to stop—she prays that he will recognize her, that he will say her name as Tyrians do, that he will leap off his mount and sweep her up in his arms because he has missed her so much, his dear friend, his sister.

But clear blue eyes merely glance over her, and he continues up the road, high into the city.

She doesn't sing that night, or the next night, or the night after that. She climbs the mountain trail, and she stares out over the plains and the hills, and she waits for that beautiful dream to return. But she can see nothing but Raigar's face in her mind's eye.

Day 310

I'm going back. I have to. I'm so confused. I had never felt so, so happy, so at peace, until I came here, and now it all feels so wrong, just like Tyria does. Raigar is here. He is still here. But he left! He left a long time ago, and barely even remembers this place. I don't understand. How can there be two of one person? Did something happen to him? But it doesn't matter how it happened, because here, he doesn't know me. And I can't live in a world like that. It's one thing to leave behind your best friend, another to find him again, but be a stranger to him. I feel like I should've seen this coming. Something was gonna fuck up my stay in Middle-Earth. And of course it's a Tyrian, if I could call this Raigar that, since I guess Tyrian Raigar isn't even Tyrian, technically. But yeah. Going back. I have a hunch and I desperately hope I'm right, 'cause if I'm not, I'm trapped here.

She rides for months, only pausing so she and Indigo can rest. She stops in no towns, she eats in no taverns, the picturesque countryside races by in a blur that she can't be bothered to look at. All she sees is the path ahead of her, and the void on either side of it, shooting stars filling her chest with cold dread. Yet she keeps her feet firm in the stirrups, and clenches her teeth to stave off the terror of what's to come.

Day 370

I left Indigo with Hosta. She wasn't home, but I wrote a note, and I know she'll take good care of her. I wish I could bring Indigo with me, but I can't imagine what the void would do to an animal, if this is what it does to me. Not worth the risk. I suffer because I understand what I've chosen to do. Wouldn't be fair to make a horse go through that.

At sundown, she hitches her belongings on her back. Like a pack mule, buried under a huge bulging bag, with a sheet of white metal, her prized Horiz remains, strapped over top of it. She strides through the clearing where she crashed a year ago, heading due north. The forest grows thicker, untouched for decades, if not centuries. A small patch of woodland mysteriously avoided by the locals, who likely never even realized it was there. And in the heart of this overgrown grove, she finds a standing stone, two stories tall, almost completely buried in vines. Although the air is still and lifeless as only it can be in a land without magic, the second her forehead touches the stone, the breath is knocked out of her.

In the moment before she goes, she hears Raigar's voice in her head, and suddenly she remembers a series of waking dreams from long before, when she was still over the Unending Ocean, in search of the otherworldly storm that would take her out of Tyria.

You'll get there. And then you'll know what home is.

“You,” she says quietly, even as a wail of panic builds in her throat, voice trembling. “Home is wherever you are.”

And this time, instead of falling into the abyss, she dives.

[chaoscrystals]

Every note in my phone 19

Maybe I can speed up the present. All I can think about is how I'm going to dominate the art world. I guess that's kind of fucked up? I feel dizzy and like my blood sugar is low. My body must look so disgusting I'm always burping. I must be disgusting that's why Ariel never hits me up All I can think about is how I want an art empire that is accessible to people of all races and social classes And how I want this sandwich I'm about to go eat. I'm so much fatter than I was when I was 18 that's why Ariel never hits me up anymore!!! :(__(_((((( It's really not worth beating myself up over. Pretty sure I got a yeast infection from fucking him anyway. * Why does my back hurt so much why does everything hurt why is life pain. when have I gotten to the point where I can hold all my pain and all my ecstasy at the same time, for one moment and then the moment ends and I'm back on the train again trying to make time go faster. If I was decaying I would look like black and pus and torn flesh, strips of flesh covering what once was my body. She killed me and left me in the woods to die. Put me in the back of her trunk. Headlights were right blue. Righteous and it was..she thought it was good.  I wasn't either dissatisfied, but isn't dying to hurt and be sad? I could spit black tar right here and people would probably just turn away in disgust, I could vomit up maggots, yeah girl its the same as it is for you too. I don't want you anymore he always wanted me. I'm taking you with me. Now we are dead. It came to me in a flash I had a divine vision. Of music. And being alone. * The boy means everything to me I got him in the corner of my sleeve, oh the bend of my elbow i lean on the table looking over at you I see the empty glass it magnifies you I'm ready I'm ready we're starting again, you're starting to break my heart again * Male exclusivity needs to die. Some men really can't be around women if they aren't fucking someone it seems. Ugh. Get away from me. Wake the fuck up. Sorry that everyone made us think that our bodies alone are sexual and need to be covered. I do so many non sexual things with my body. Americans can tend to being lethargic. I'm so angry * Im all caught in vines . sleeping time leaks the day its dripping in green and surrounding me. Phonetically speaking I think your words have more meaning than you realize Pick it up again inspired by my friends and I'm feeling feeling so good. Pack up your bags and take a vacation take yourself to rockaway * There's nothing special about me I bet you could compare me to any other girl in the world and id seem just the same, got a pretty face and her head isn't too bad either. And if you asked me today id say I don't think nothing special about me neither but id tell you what I know, that I'm the girl who would love you the most. * The praise on the water sought after colorful lights and pure tones Praise phoning in for a second chance in glasses cracked in the pavement red warring the light and wearing it as a disguise, praise be had, our Lord has grown old * Y stomach is too full its so full but I'm hungry and I don't have the energy to digest. I never needed to eat that much * So excited to be your own boss until the app doesn't give you work!! I'm gonna stop acting like I'm not doing things for a reaction or to make people think something of me. I am. Including playing music I am almost to the point where I dont have near anxiety attacks from eating around people. Proud of myself Taking kindness at surface level only is probably not going to cause any progress. Take all of me, baby. Even if I'm mean from time to time. I'm not okay with people's boundaries being broken in a monogamous relationship. But I don't really believe in monogamous relationships. Maybe I'm just cynical but it seems like there are too many rules. Or maybe it's all a ploy to lure guys in because they'll think I'm easygoing but I'm not I want to tell everyone every single one of my thoughts that sounds like a fun game * Jonathan is on my mind I've always had a craving for a good hearted musician and someone who will counter my unbalance, prince charming rides in on a horse, who brought the horse into the street who's mans is that? Are they getting with the plan do they understand or do you only like me because i have connections to new dimensions * I'm in love with nothing This haunting feeling Like I know what comes next I'm in love with nothing There's a hole in my heart when its growing apart it gets darker and smaller and I'm falling in love with you again * It isn't fair he will never hear me. He will never see me or understand me, when the mere sight of him sends me spinning away from anything easy to feel, I'm feeling so dreary one second and the next I got jets on my feet, flying over the moon cause I'm so in love with you * I just enjoy Jonathan is my whole heart!! One day he will know * Songs to write out Gracias a la vida Stormy weather Good morning heartache Lover man where can you be April in Paris * I want to tell people how hard my life is! * My song for you This is my song for you I like everything you do When I see you its like a cool breeze graced me with unending presently waiting pleasant and unchanging you seem stable to me, and I even like you when you're rocky. I like the lyrics I like the melody, you're like music, lets make a baby And live together In the city and very far. We can have two houses and even a car This is my song for you I like everything you do When I realized it was you Wrap it in red and a bow, kiss my head, after your show I know I can be a hard one to break, I've heard all these stories of heart break, what do I choose, what to listen, use or lose. But I know when I'm with you my dreams start coming true * Deep desires Understand the universe. Have someone accompany me in my sadness and despair. I want to come back together I want to feel enlightened I want everyone to feel goddamned enlightened I'm definitely willing to open up portals make everyone realize we are collectively manifesting our reality I want everyone in new York city to know my name nova luz, the body inhabited by us. She needs a companion. Lets get her a partner or two. * How do i really feel about the boys that I think I love? My Spanish tongue isn't too sharp....I wish...shit man, you just have to try harder to get it right. Laser mind. Not tonight. Michael is the name of an angel and no matter how hard I try or how much I'm thinking about Jonathan I still wonder about Michael and we spent more time together than Jonathan and I ever have. Fuck me. What are either of them up to? Why do neither of them talk to me. Haven't seen either one in weeks. I think I feel like I'm attached or in love. No matter how hard I try to forget...not trying hard enough you stupid fucking cunt! You're so fucking weak nova!. I wish someone knew how much I fucking hate myself sometimes I don't get why I just internalize this and nobody can ever know and its always a dead end fall off a cliff and snap your spine on the rocks before you drown and are pummeled by the waterfall FUCK. I think about them every day I wish I had a boyfriend, but malificence red lipped and hooded with festering infections on her skin, she's standing in the way, she's guarding the little red dog in my heart, the little puppy with forgetful parents, crying and underfed in an alley way alone, you only care about the way it looks. The loving puppy. Loving little dog I love you so much I love you no matter what even if you took a knife to my throat severed my veins and rendered my body a corpse I would still love you. Shit man that's fucking intense. That's a part of me that needs some help. The unconditionally loving part.....have I been deceived? I feel as though she has been deceived, and people always want to exploit her loving nature. This is the world I live in today. What if I wake up tomorrow on another planet? Is my boyfriend going to be there? If it was a planet with fruit orchards brightly colored things little houses and healthy atmosphere I would be down. Since I'm making it up, my boyfriend is there too. He loves me and we only need each other. I love him so much it fills me with fullness and vibrancy. He loves me so much. We spend most of our time together enjoying the planet, and sometimes we cook a big feast together for our friends and they come over and we all play music and drink wine * I guess now is an appropriate time to work on my issues with jealousy right? Actually...maybe ill wait What if it was a giant poetic metaphor? Green goop spilling from my heart and getting stuck in my pelvis..melting out of my pelvis out onto the floor. My physical my non physical. Non psychic but spiritual. Elephants from India are a shymbol for wealthy. And poor. Bread. Winning. Happy family. Sad family. Bread. Okay Maybe now I can work on my massive jealousy issues. Okay I'm going to start by listing scenarios that make me jealous Any female speaks to a boy that I like (level 10 code red situation) Someone's life looks shinier than mine Julia's in middle eastern vogue My friends have things that I want Other people have things that I want Other peoples bands are playing at cooler venues I am literally not a musician my name is Harriet and I never leave my apartment. Yo these sensory hallucinations are too much sometimes. That was a side note. I think my biggest issue is that when I am into someone in a romantic way, I get really upset when I see them talking to like, anyone of the opposite sex. Or of the same sex with Ursula. Or when someone is skinnier than me. Sometimes I get jealous cause of that which is not allowed because I am not allowed to have an eating disorder. Why is Julia getting so much attention while simultaneously being underweight and anorexic??? Noooo oh my god is she okay? Is everyone else okay?? Why is that allowed are you people fucking retarded? I can't do these things without having a million other thoughts. But I'm breaking the surface which is something. This is a deep fear for me I don't intend to leave unchecked. * I want somebody to love. I think writing all this sad lonely poetry can't be helping kts hard not to hate yourself sometimes. I wish someone was reading this. I really want a boyfriend so badly but I'm resisting it because in want it to be Jonathan so I'm waiting for him and ignoring everyone else.that's scary I don't know where he's at. He never talks to me. I want to smash glass bottles over his head for being so detached Fuck you!!! He never talks to him I mean me but I think about him pretty much every day.this hurts Why am I being like this? Lately everything I do is to get his attention. I want to cry. I hardly get any attention from him this is ripping me up inside.I just keep these fantasies in my head and I fall in love with them but it's an illusion I'm in love with an illusion. This hurts my chest. All I want is his attention and he isn't giving me any!!! I should turn around and walk the other way but I know I wont because I'm still in my fantasies that we are the same and that he gets weird crazy visions as well and that I was a part of his. I think I'm going to be wrong. My heart.. * I'm hitting the resin in my pipe again. And writing semi cohesive notes about my feelings. Am I using boys as a distraction from my problems? Why do I always want someone to hear the most insecure parts of me....I always always share my deep insecurities, like, first before we even get to know each other. What a weird kind of flirting style that's so weirded out by myself. Like, why? Do I not realize that most people are too in denial to accept insecurities in someone else? Especially in a package as cute as a nova. I have some pretty great ideas in my head..heart..butt..whatever...all of me......... Dot dot dot * Feeling A poem by nova luz palaquibay brener Written in September of 2017 I can feel everything. Mannequin pussy is famous they were in new York Times and rolling stone and a bunch of other big name publications. In happy for them. Not like when Julia's thing got famous. Even though I didn't spend a ton of time with any of these people, they changed my life. I still feel a little intimidated by that world, by the professional world and its cutthroat attitude. I don't really like it or want to participate. I just wanna have a nice apartment with a nice boy and wake up at 7 am every day. I still want to play rock music Its fun Mannequin pussy has that song where Marissa goes "I'm feeling it all I gotta get home I gotta get up" I'm feeling it all I'm feeling it all I just want to share a room with a nice boy and Rowan can come too And we can have small shows where we support each other for the things we love about each other and we still love each other when the other one is being an asshole. I don't like thinking of myself in a negative way. It feels bad. I'm very childish. I'm insecure that the things I do aren't big enough. That's stupid. I'm mad at my mom for always acting like everything was a huge deal. Like, nothing was ever just chill and normal everything was something. I'm childish inside * September 7 2017 Dear j boxer, There are actually several thousand things I would like to be saying to you, but I don't want to overwhelm you and lose you. Oh my god. You make me so nervous. Did you realize?at flowers for all occasions. I have never been more stressed out at a show in my life. I was hyper focused on what you might be thinking of me. I want to pour out all the imbalance I feel and you can watch it run down into the drains Yes I still think about that. And don't think that the only side of me is erratic and unbalanced and bad, everyone has so many sides. I know you think the way i play is interesting. I know I can play well. I feel like I am everything when I think about you. I think about you every day. Would you still love me when I am nervous and insecure? Love me like this or you'll never love me at all, you can only leave me if you don't love me like this, my all. My heart. Sometimes I get chest pains What do you think about me? My dream partner is someone I can put together shows with. but not ordinary shows. I don't know. But it would be something. I can envision my dream partner: active, healthy, compassionate, loving, open, creative, enjoys sex, kisses my neck. Is it fair to tell you this? Am I asking too many questions? Is it fair that I want to tell you all this but we haven't exchanged a single word in weeks? I can't explain it, its a feeling in my body, it feels so electrifying I don't ever want to stop. I'm sorry I have to test you so much. I can't help it. I think I'm like that with everyone. I wonder what you are doing now? If I said I wasn't feeling good would you sit with me in the park and put your arm on my shoulders? Even when my eyes are puffy and dry? * I don't know there's a vacuum in my heart and silver worms that live inside the vacuum, ever present resilient love the lasting energy in my blood, that they feed off of. Freed some space for their babies I know it couldn't be any other way, but sometimes I resent my mother for leading me to believe this. Because my religion is based in pain, my suffering will cleanse my sins and if you don't know then you must be unclean, I got to tell you how I see it. Everyone is looking at me Cause there's maggots in my heart, I can feel them squirming around, I can feel the top shell of muscle straining to get ahead of them to get on top of them, maggots squirming around in my heart, eating my muscles. My mind is unfocused. All I can see is misery. But its okay. The lord wants me to be this way. With a red-skinned entity hanging onto my shoulders and telling me "no, don't go there, you dog". Maggots in my heart. Maggots eating my heart * September 8 2017 Dear Jonathan Hi, how are you? Its been a couple of weeks since we last met. I am pretty much still the same. Hopefully I'm going to get a job teaching kids! Maybe one day you will fall in love with me. What have you been thinking of since I last saw you?do you want to tell me? Do you think about me? Do you want to hold hands? Can I kiss you in the dark on the street? Can I kiss you in front of people? I'm trying really hard not to take things too fast. Part of me really believes you and I are the same person. I really like how you make me feel..I always think about what it would be like to fuck you again. I really want to. I think I will. But there's one thing I'm wondering. Like what kind of relationship do you want? Do you like the idea of having me around or is this like "ill see you when I see you" No it can't just be fine I have insane feelings about you I need to know. I can be fine with what you want..I just want to know I'm not gonna hurt myself falling for you when I don't need to. If I'm just living on the promise of what I think you and I could be, I need to know if I'm right, right? Oh shit this doesn't sound good I'm spiraling into a panic. Oh god. Just tell me if you want to be with me!! Sorry I kind of get these intense insecurities. Then I like to wallow in them. Love me? Hah. To not end this letter on a sad desperate note, I will say the following: I like how you look I think you are very handsome, I like how you sing and play even when you lose your focus you sound amazing to me, I want to kiss you all over be naked with you and have my chest against yours, and feel your arms. I hope you don't mind me saying I love you and that I have a lot of love for you in my heart because I am insatiably attracted to you, and I also think you are kind but distant, and I think you are very loving and radical in your ideology, but you aren't annoying and liberal and show-offy about it. I like how much you know about music and music history, I think you are really smart. I want to kiss you all over. I feel so passionate when I think about you. It feels like you live in my heart and that's why I love you. I really really want to tell you. I don't know what could happen I just need to fuck you. I want you so badly, body and soul and mind. * August 9 Honey I want to marry you I love your sweet and bitter tastes Even on your sour days You make me believe That all my desires can be mine And I know my heart is true When I'm near you Yes I may have immense pools of jealousy, but honey, its nothing to me, when you bring me back home In a sentimental way, I say, oooooohhh you're too good for me The way we play together Like in our youth I feel like our life is a union, oh know honey I want to be true to only you We spend our days rushing around But I dream of a night where, without a sound I can slip into bed next to you, and you will hold me close, you're then the only other person I need to know, you're my everything Oh my honey I love you, you know I do, I would spend my days working for you, because I do love all the things you do And at night when the moods right, ill look into your eyes and say my sweetie, you know I love you.