#Listen- Open arms is my favorite song from epic and i might have it all blocked out in my head. I've ideas.

[ravenmoodle]

playin' around with some designs- care for a Lotus?

#my art #lotus eaters #character design #really like the lotus flowers growing from the eyes #its pretty over the top and stuff but i was just having fun trying to see how much I could push them #and playing with some background tricks #the plants on their heads can not be removed- they grow through their skulls #epic the musical #greek mythology #Listen- Open arms is my favorite song from epic and i might have it all blocked out in my head. I've ideas.

[isolemnlyswearpevensie]

Everdream | Edmund Pevensie x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, making out, alluding to smut

Time/Era: The Golden Age

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Y/N and Edmund go on a late-night horse ride to stargaze.

A/N: This is inspired by the song “Everdream” by Epic Soul Factory. (You can listen to it here.)  I really love this song (you should listen to it! It’s an amazing piece!) and I really wanted to write something that hopefully followed the vibe. Please send feedback and maybe a request while you’re at it!

masterlist | read on ao3

Cair Paravel was beautiful at twilight. Bright oranges and reds blended with the cool blue of the night to stain the sky with magnificent colors. The warm and cool tones weaved together to make a deep green barrier between the passing day and incoming night. It was absolutely stunning in Y/N’s eyes, which is why she always made it a point to be outside at this time. She loved to admire how the final rays of the sun reflected off of the white stone walls and how the warm evening air grew crisp. Everything and everyone around her starts to grow calm and time seems to pass differently. 

Her favorite place to soak in the atmosphere was a stone wall just right of a large garden. Here, she could look out at the water and watch the sun disappear behind the towering trees. Here, she can watch the colors dance upon the sails of massive ships like projectors and feel the brisk air flow around her. Sure the stone was bumpy, jagged, and sharp in some places and she had ripped many of her gowns because of it, but this was her spot. And her spot was where she liked to be. 

Sometimes, one of the royal family would join her in her silence. Lucy would come when she was feeling happy; she loved Y/N’s company and liked to admire the sky. Occasionally, she would break the silence to point out a star that was just starting to appear, or a rabbit that was rushing by. Overall, she was a bottle of warm and inviting energy. She was always welcome with Y/N on her wall. Susan would come whenever she wanted to talk. She knew Y/N would listen. Her brothers and younger sister tended to interrupt her before she could fully explain herself, so Y/N’s continued silence was like a breath of fresh air. Peter would come whenever he had a stressful day, or whenever he knew a tough time was to come. He would just sit next to Y/N on the wall as if he was meditating. If he wanted to talk, he could but if he didn’t, he wasn’t pushed to. Y/N was nice company and the silence was always comforting right before bed. Edmund would come whenever he wanted to, which was more often than his siblings. He and Y/N had been an item for almost three years, so it sort of counted as a date. The two knew that they didn’t need anything flashy; just being together was more than enough. He always waited a little while, though, to make sure his siblings weren’t planning on joining his girl on the wall. Edmund knew that if they were there, they needed her and who was he to come in between that? Sometimes, Y/N would be alone with her thoughts. 

Edmund sat silently next to her, looking out over the water. He had rid himself of his armor and crown, so his loose clothes and messy hair swayed in the breeze. His feet dangled freely, while her’s were crossed at the ankles. 

“There’s going to be a full moon tonight,” Y/N’s voice was soft as she glanced over at Edmund. The shadows on his face shifted as he met her gaze. Y/N observed it. It seemed to contour his jaw, making his features look sharp and as if he was sculpted from marble. Ed always looked great at twilight, Y/N thought. 

“Yeah?” He leaned back ever so slightly, his weight being supported by either hand gripping the wall. “That means it’ll be bright enough to see without a torch.” 

“I was thinking maybe we could go for a ride,” Y/N turned her attention to a large Naval ship floating directly in the middle of the bay. “Unless you need to rest for tomorrow. Big meeting right? We can just go to bed instead.”

“The meeting isn’t really important, and besides, Pete does most of the work anyway.” 

Ed had grown extremely nonchalant about meetings since the four had landed in Narnia. When he was younger, he used to stress about it for days beforehand. I guess when you sit through so many meetings about the same thing, the anxiety turns into familiarity. 

“Whatever you say, oh magnificent one.” Y/N pushes herself off of the wall flattens her skirt out. “Oh wait, my bad, that’s Peter.”

Edmund frowns, “I can be magnificent too, love.” He follows her off of the wall and takes her hand in his. 

~

The forest was quiet at this time of night so the sound of hooves on the dry dirt was easy to hear. Y/N trailed Edmund, staring at his back. The thin material of his renaissance Romeo style shirt allowed his shoulder blades and back muscles to be on full display. They moved every time he pulled on the rein. At one point during the ride, he turned around and caught Y/N admiring him. His smile became cocky once he saw the look in her eye. 

“I can practically feel your eyes burning a hole in my back, Y/N.” He laughs, twisting his body back to face the front. 

“Well, where else am I supposed to look? I don’t know where we’re going!!” Y/N’s voice came out as more of a whine than a defense, making Edmund laugh. 

“Well, lucky for you, we’re almost there.” 

Edmund leads Y/N into a small clearing and swings his leg over his horse. The circle was made up of around ten trees and a plush carpet of grass. It wasn’t much, but it had the most gorgeous view of millions of stars above. The stars were twinkling and a few planets were visible. Y/N stared upwards, trying to absorb all of the beauty. 

“Tada, I found this last week when I was riding and I thought of you.” Edmund planted himself on the ground, leaning against a tree. “I thought we could stargaze and talk. We haven’t been able to talk a lot lately.”

Y/N slid into his open arms and laid a hand on his chest. “I know, it’s not your fault your busy. It’s no one’s fault. You’re king.” She feels him sigh underneath her. 

“I know, I know, it still makes me feel guilty though. I feel as though I haven’t been able to put as much time into our relationship as I should.” He takes a strand of Y/N’s hair between his fingers and tucks it behind her ear. His hand gently runs along her cheek before sliding down her arm.

“I’m happy if you’re happy, Ed.” Y/N places a quick peck on his cheek and looks back up at the sky. 

The sky looked as though someone dumped glitter on a black piece of construction paper. Intricate designs and swirls littered the atmosphere as if it was a painting. It was complicated and organized, yet messy and chaotic. Edmund’s fingertips lightly brush up and down Y/N’s arms making her skin erupt with goosebumps. Y/N squirms under his touch.

“What’s wrong?” Edmund asks, moving his hand down to squeeze Y/N’s hip and pull her onto his lap. In the process, Y/N’s long skirt moves up her leg.

“Nothings wrong, darling.” Y/N mumbles staring at a tree to her right. She knew what her love was about to do, just not how he was going to do it. Edmund kisses her jaw and down to her neck. His cold nose brushes against her pulse point making her instinctively shut her eyes. He takes her waist in both hands and positions her body so she’s straddling his long legs. She could feel the rough fabric of his trousers and fought the urge to move against it. Her dress bunches around her waist, draping against his hips.

“Ed, what are you doing?” Her voice was shaking as he continued to kiss and suck at her neck. Edmund’s hands find her waist once more and he begins massaging them over the thin material of her summer dress. His teeth scrape ever so slightly over the soft skin of her neck and she gasps. 

Edmund moves off of her skin and brings his mouth to her ear. He’s so close that she can feel his hot breath fan over her ear. “I’m putting time into our relationship that I’ve been missing lately.” Edmund’s voice is husky and low, coming out as a deep growl. 

Y/N’s head dips down and she presses her lips to his. They taste vaguely of devils food cake, the dessert they had for dinner. It was intoxicating; her head began to get light and she felt like she was getting high off of Edmund. Her hands find their way to his face, one brushing past his cheek to grip the back of his hair. She admired the way it feels in her hand. Edmund’s hair was always so soft, Y/N didn’t know how he did it. His dark locks flow in between her fingers like water, twisting and turning in every which way and falling in loose curls. She grips a handful of hair near the nape of his neck and pulled. Hard. 

The sound Edmund let out was sinful; it came from somewhere deep in his throat and Y/N had only heard it a few times before. She loved that sound almost as much as she loved Edmund. He began to kiss her more harshly now, his hands starting to move her hips back and forth against him. Y/N let out a whimper and pulled away from the kiss. 

“You have a meeting tomorrow, my king.” Y/N said, breathless with swollen lips. His eyes darkened and his jaw clenched. 

“Fuck meetings.”

~ 

The two love birds eventually made it back to the castle, nodding at a guard and dropping their horses off at the stables. They brought the duvet up to their chins and settled down for the night. 

“Maybe I’ll skip tomorrow and lay in bed with you all day. We can talk about what’s happening in that pretty little head of yours. You can tell me about what you thought of when looking at the water.”

“I don’t know, Susan might scold me if I miss again. I’m not sure how she got the title of gentle.”

Edmund groaned. “I’ll talk to her, please? I miss you.” “Whatever you say, lover boy. But don’t think I won’t throw you under the bus.” 

“Deal, my siblings don’t scare me.”

“I feel like they should, they’re quite good in battle.”

Edmund put a hand over his heart. “Excuse me? Who’s the one who fights with two swords?”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you, I’m sleeping.”

#edmund pevensie #edmund x reader #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund pevensie fanfic #edmund pevensie fanfiction #the chronicles of narnia #the chronicles of narnia fanfic #the chronicles of narnia fanfiction #narnia #c.s. lewis

[therewillbnoexplanation]

Day 17: Blanket Fort

Welcome to Fluffytown

Summary: Simon and Baz are spending the holidays at Pitch Manor. Simon just wanted to take a nap, but Mordelia has other plans...

Word Count: 1545

This was heavily inspired by the blanket fort episode of the tv show Community. If you want to see their epic blanket fort in all its glory, watch this clip.

Read on AO3

I take a deep breath, appreciating the fresh forest air. I love going on runs when I’m at home for the holidays. The scenery is gorgeous, and it reminds me of playing football, which I dearly miss. 

As I approach the manor, I can’t help but smile when I remember who’s inside. My family is, sure. It’s been great to see them, even though Mordelia can be a pain in my arse, and Fiona makes suggestive faces whenever Simon and I walk into a room. 

Simon. It’s him I’m more excited about. He said he was taking a nap when I left for my run. I think he ate too much at lunch and needed to sleep it off. Typical. Disgustingly, my heart swells just thinking about him. This is our first real Christmas here together, and it’s been wonderful. Simon fits in with my family surprisingly well, and I love watching him play with my siblings.

Taking a huge swig of my water bottle, I let myself in the house. It’s strangely quiet, so the kids might be down for naps. “The kids” includes my boyfriend, apparently. 

I walk up the steps to my room, panting. My hair is slick with sweat and has somehow fallen in my face in spite of my headband. I recognize that I probably reek, but I want to kiss Simon before I shower.

Smiling, I open the door to my room, prepared to creep over to the bed and softly wake him up. Instead, I’m greeted by an angry Mordelia.

“Baz! You are not allowed in here!” She guards a pile of blankets with folded arms.

“What have you done with Simon?” I grumble.

I hold back a laugh as Simon pops his head out beneath the blankets. I need to maintain my anger for Mordelia’s sake. If she knew I found this even slightly funny, she’d hijack Simon more often.

“How did she wake you up for this?” I ask.

“Never had the chance to sleep,” Simon shrugs.

“I think we’ve answered enough of your questions,” Mordelia says, turning to Simon. She points down, and he immediately sinks back into the fort.

“I’m showering, and then you’re cleaning this up,” I say, turning away from the door.

“Did you hear something, Simon?” I hear Mordelia ask.

“Nope!” Comes a voice muffled by blankets.

I roll my eyes, but a smile creeps its way onto my lips. I love that the two of them get on so well. I take a long shower, trying to warm my bones from the chilly December air, and then head downstairs for some tea. Might as well indulge them a little longer.

In actuality, I end up indulging them for a few hours. I take my book to the study and get so warm and content by the fire that I have no intention of moving. If Simon needed me, he would come find me. He knows I end up here, reading by the fire, at least once a day. 

We’re three days into our stay at the manor, and Simon and I have gotten into a nice routine. It always involves me reading for a bit while he goes and plays with my siblings or watches a movie. It’s nice, almost domestic.

Finally, I snap out of my reading trance as Mordelia marches into the study.

“Basilton. You’ve been summoned to your quarters. The builders have finished the renovations,” she says, then promptly walks away.

How much have they done? I don’t have much time to think, because I realize I’m meant to be following her. As Mordelia opens the door to my room, I can’t help but gasp. They’ve basically turned my entire room into a blanket fort. 

The blankets are strewn together so that it almost looks like one big quilt. Upon closer inspection, I realize the fort is a quilted mess of sheets, blankets, and shower curtains. I’m sure Daphne will be happy about that. From here I can see that they’ve strung Christmas lights through the whole thing, which sort of gives it a nice atmosphere. The pillows they’ve added to cushion the floor and serve as seating make it feel cosy. Crowley, I can’t believe I’m saying all this about a blanket fort.

Simon emerges from the entrance, and I have no idea how he fit in there with his wings. “Welcome to Fluffytown!” He exclaims, looking proud of himself.

“This is amazing,” I say, a hint of sarcasm in my voice.

“Shut up, Baz. I know you love it,” Mordelia rolls her eyes. She’s gotten quite good at doing that since we last visited. 

“Can I give you the tour?” Simon waves his arm to the entrance ceremoniously.

I follow behind him reluctantly, both of us crawling on our hands and knees. I have to be careful not to trip over Simon’s tail, but it seems like they’ve made the sides extra wide and tall for him. It’s sweet, really. The fort is mostly one long tunnel, but occasionally another tunnel intersects it. Simon keeps saying ridiculous things like down that hall is the teddy bear room, and over there is the Turkish district.

“Over here,” Simon points to a small alcove to our left, “is the Belgian chocolate tasting room.”

“I’m not engaging in this make believe, Simon,” I mumble.

He turns around to face me, incredulous. “It’s not make believe, Baz. It’s literally the Belgian chocolate room.” Apparently my face still shows my disbelief, because he drags me in.

Somehow, it really is a Belgian chocolate room. They’ve taken our stash from the kitchen and put it on the makeshift table.

“Care to try our dark chocolate with nuts?” Simon wriggles his eyebrows at me.

I settle on the cushions next to him, resting my head on his shoulder. “Fine,” I say. “You win. I believe in the magic of the blanket fort.”

“I knew you would!” Simon smiles. “You’re a romantic at heart, Basilton.”

I roll my eyes at him, but press a kiss to his cheek. “What chocolate were you trying to woo me with earlier?”

“Oh nevermind that,” Simon says. “We’re saving the rest for Mordelia.”

“The rest?” I raise my eyebrows.

Simon’s cheeks flush. 

“He ate a lot,” a voice in the doorway answers.

We both jump. Mordelia snuck up on us like the little spy she is. 

Her eyes look from me to Simon, then back to me. “You two are gross. I’m going to the teddy bear room.”

“She’s a great kid,” Simon says, his voice low.

“Only for you. She’s fascinated by you.” I’m surprised at how soft my voice has gotten.

Simon nods. “I’m quite special.”

“Mm.” I kiss the triangle of moles on his neck.

Simon smiles, bending down to kiss me. I hate to admit it, but this whole thing is perfect. The blankets make this place really comfortable, and I’m sitting next to my favorite heater. I smile into the kiss, which just makes Simon lean in deeper. 

“I love this pillow fort thing, but where are we going to sleep tonight?” I ask when we pull apart.

“Don’t worry, there’s a tunnel that leads to the bed,” Simon says absentmindedly, his hands running through my hair. “Also, it’s a blanket fort, dear.”

“Is Mordelia sleeping in here tonight?”

Simon laughs, moving to see me better. “Oh, yeah. She built herself a little room and is planning on sleeping on cushions.”

“Little devil,” I mutter. 

“I heard that!” Mordelia shouts from the teddy bear room.

“We didn’t have the budget for sound-proofing the place,” Simon says sheepishly.

I scoff. “She just proved my point.”

“I think what I have to show you will make you forget about Mordelia,” he smiles. 

I follow him further into the maze of blankets. We pass the entrance to the bed (hallelujah!) and a library, Simon narrating all the way.

“Here we are!” Simon announces, “The music wing!”

My record player is set carefully atop a table, tiny fairy lights wrapped around it. This room has more cushions than any of the others so far. It feels like laying on a cloud. I settle in as Simon puts on music.

A wave of calm washes over me, and I close my eyes to soak it in.

It's that time of year When the world falls in love Every song you hear seems to say Merry Christmas

I love “The Christmas Waltz,” which is a secret I keep locked deep in my heart. I realize that I may have mentioned it to Simon once, against my better judgement.

“Who’s singing this?” I ask as Simon lays down next to me. He flops down on his stomach, propping himself up with his arms.

“She & Him,” he explains. “It’s one of Mordelia’s records.”

“Of course,” I laugh. 

Apparently already tired of holding himself up, Simon moves over to rest his head on my chest, wrapping his arms around me. Even his tail curls around my ankle. I sigh, content.

We stay like that for what feels like forever, just listening. I’m surprised at how much I enjoy this version. I’m warm and happy, and my heart is full of love. 

“I’m happy you came this year,” I breathe.

“Me too.”

#my writing #coc 2020 #carry on countdown 2020 #i really want to live in one of these blanket forts #for real #snowbaz #snowbaz fics #simon snow series

[remijaecrowley]

Feed the Hunger

Just a short fic of our favorite bumbling boys and one trickster of a succubus Bard. Song lyrics from “Animal” covered by Chase Holfelder. Listen to it and imagine it being sung in that style by a female and you got my succubus. XD

Geralt grumbled as he had to push his way through the crowded tavern, that Jaskier had BEGGED him to bring him to, to reach the bar, tossing down a few coins and holding up two fingers to the Barkeep for two pints of ale. The barkeep nodded when he saw the Witcher, quickly sliding two large pints to Geralt before scooping the coins off the bar and dropping them in his apron pocket.

Geralt nodded in thanks before turning and muscling his way through the crowd again, holding the mugs high above the heads of the humans that had packed the small tavern house. He didn't get what was so impressive to have this many humans gather for a bard, but he knew his own Bard was thrumming with excitement over getting to hear this particular Trobairitz. The Witcher had to listen to the Bard's excited babbling all the way to Toussaint. While he loved his little songbird, sometimes, he had to fight the urge to strangle the Bard just for a moment of peace and quiet when Jaskier got wound up over something.

The Witcher made his way through the crowd to his Bard, who had taken up residence at a small table as close to the stage as he could get. Geralt watched Jaskier for a moment, before the bard noticed his Witcher was watching him. The Bard's nervous, excited energy made the bard seem to vibrate in his seat. The Witcher rolled his eyes as he slammed a mug in front of the Bard on the table, causing Jaskier to jump, letting out a very undignified squeak.

"Fuck! Geralt! Stop startling me like that, you big burly bastard! Had me thinking one of the locals was trying to take our seats for a second there...and I will fight anyone who tries it....well, more likely yell loudly til they either give up or you come and scruff them." The bard harrumphed at first, though ending his conniption with a grin that made the Witcher roll his eyes again. Geralt hmmm'ed at the Bard as he settled himself in his chair, not liking being so out in the open, much preferring to be in a corner of the room with two sides guarded by walls, so as to make being on guard easier. He definitely did NOT like having his back to the crowd, so the only table he and the Bard could finally agree on where the Bard would have a good view and the Witcher felt it was a bit easier to defend was off to the left of the stage, Geralt able to set his back to a column at least.

Jaskier took a long sip off his Ale, leaning over toward Geralt to murmur," The show should be starting soon. I wonder what this new bard's schtick is? We all have one. Mine is singing songs of the adventures of the White Wolf..."the bard grinning at Geralt, "Others do dancing or whatever. For this bard to be THIS popular, they must have one hell of a...." the Bard's words trailing off as the crowd around them started to cheer as a woman stepped out on the stage.

Both men had seen some surreal beauties in their travels, but this woman even made the magically enhanced beauty of Yennefer pale ever so slightly. Skin that gleamed as if dusted with honey powder, hair that hung to her waist that shone like the darkest rubies, and eyes....well, the eyes were what struck Jaskier hard, having him elbowing the Witcher sharply and his whispered, "Her eyes, Geralt! Her eyes....they are like yours!"

Geralt grunted at the elbow, giving the Bard a glare that would make lesser men quail in fear. All Jaskier did was roll his eyes and whisper, "Yes, yes, scary face. I KNOW, Giralt."

The Songstress laughed softly at the cheering, her laughter like crystal bells ringing through the room. She bowed to her audience and grinned playfully. "Good eve, my darlings! Thank you all for coming to my modest concert. I am your humble Bard, Ilana. May my songs be found pleasing and your hearts...and coin purses, opened!" The crowd chuckled at her comment about coin purses as she nodded to her musicians to start playing. Soon, her voice rang out, weaving a spell over the patrons of happiness and joy as she sang of epic battles won, lovers united, and destiny. The crowd had quieted down as she started singing, unlike when Jaskier would do his little impromptu shows while he and the Witcher were on the road. Jaskier felt a little jealous, but at the same time, he couldn't truly be jealous. He felt too happy to feel jealousy at the moment and he was enjoying this feeling.

Geralt, on the other hand, was frowning. The only frown in the packed tavern and he was frowning because his medallion was vibrating against his chest. The Songstress took note, a small smirk playing on her lips as she finished a song, the crowd cheering happily. She held up a hand to ask for quiet and the audience settled down for her as she spoke,"I see we have a hero in our midst, my darlings. The famed Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf Witcher is here. I think it would be a perfect time for me to sing one of my new songs, in honor of our hero, don't you think?"

The crowd cheered louder at the idea and Geralt's eyes narrowed, a low growl escaped him as he went to make a grab for Jaskier. The fact his medallion was dancing a jig against his chest meant to Songstress wasn't human and was something that could use it's voice to control people.  A siren, or maybe a succubus of some sort, though he wasn't sure and the fact he wasn't sure made him feel uneasy. He wanted to get Jaskier and himself out of there NOW, before she started to sing again.

He tried to make a grab for the bard, but found himself unable to move. a thunderous look crossed the Witcher's face as he struggled to move, but he felt pinned to the seat, the golden cat eyes of the Songstress were on him, as if she was pinning him with her very gaze. He grunted, trying to move, only managing a fidget in his seat. Jaskier was so enraptured with the Songstress, he wasn't even noticing that his friend was trying to get his attention.

The Musicians started playing the next tune , the music soft and slow as Ilana opened her mouth and the first dulcet words dripped from her lips.

Here we go again I kinda wanna be more than friends So take it easy on me I'm afraid you're never satisfied....

The words wiggle into the Witcher's mind, trying to strip him of his years of honed willpower. The words tickled at the thoughts he'd been supressing for a long while now. He couldn't give into those feelings. If he did.....if he did, Jaskier would be hurt possibly and that thought made a feeling he didn't feel very often rear up. Fear.

Ilana kept singing while the Witcher glared at her, a smirk pulling at her lips as she knew her spell was worming it's way into the Witcher, despite his years of training and his mutations, even a Witcher had a hard time fighting a succubus who sang as sweetly as a siren.

Oh, oh I want some more Oh, oh What are you waitin' for? Take a bite of my heart tonight Oh, oh I want some more Oh, oh What are you waitin' for? What are you waitin' for? Say goodbye to my heart tonight

Jaskier glances at Geralt, finally noticing the Witcher hadn't grunted or moved in a bit, noticing now that the Witcher was in a locked eye match with the Songstress singing, as if she was serenading the Witcher. OF COURSE. She wanted a piece of Geralt, but then, he was a terribly handsome man so Jaskier couldn't blame her. At the same time though, a spark of jealously flickered in the Bard's heart as his gaze moved from Witcher to Singer and back again.

The music takes on a stronger beat, more insistent as Ilana sings, her body swaying to the rhythm on her song, her golden eyes never leaving the Witcher's face, the smirk on her lips as she sang growing wider as she saw the Witcher's eyes start to glaze over. Good....her spell was working and soon he would give into his desires, which was exactly what she wanted. She wanted him to pounce, maul, devour the one he desired, to release all that tasty, tasty repressed and pent up energy in him. She didn't understand why he would deny himself something he desired, something that would bring him pleasure, but then, her skill set was perfect for this. Tempt, tease, bring her prey to the point of begging for it, then releasing them on their heart's desire, feeding off the energy as the lust was consummated.

Here we are again I feel the chemicals kickin' in It's gettin' heavier I wanna run and hide I wanna run and hide....

Oh, she knew the Witcher wanted to escape. She could feel him resisting. The more they resist, the more delicious the final result. She poured all her power into her words, knowing it would leak over to the rest of the audience and....yeah, there might be a few affairs this evening, or a few new surprise babies to be had, but she wanted to feed off the Witcher. She would make him submit to his desires. She hadn't lost a battle of wills like this before and she didn't plan on it tonight.

.......And I won't be denied by you The animal inside of you!

Jaskier actually growled a little himself at the lyrics, realizing they were aimed at his Witcher and that spark of jealousy was slowly being fanned into a flame. First he had to deal with Yennefer's claim on Geralt and now this...this...this singing hussy was trying to seduce Geralt in front of the whole damn audience with him sitting right next to the Witcher! Though....he had to admit, the words made him a bit tingly...thinking of Geralt...wanting to be more than just his best friend. He'd wanted to be more pretty much since day bloody one with the blasted dense man, but Geralt always kept him at arms length.....unless he was injured, or it was cold, or he needed to shake some sense into the Bard.

The tune dipped low and quiet again as Ilana sang, her voice nearly heart breakingly sweet.

Hush, hush, the world is quiet Hush, hush we both can't fight it It's us that made this mess Why can't you understand? Oh, I won't sleep tonight...

Geralt's eyes shifted from Ilana to the bard next to him. The words echoing through his thoughts, "Hush, hush, we both can't fight it...." Why HAD he been fighting something that he wanted so much that just looking at the bard made his loin ache and his chest tighten? Why was he denying something that they both obviously wanted, just that Geralt was being a stubborn bastard and not wanting to have someone else feeling bound to him. He knew if he gave into this...this want, this longing for the Bard that he had been fighting, Jaskier would be bound to him as tightly if not more so than Yennefer was. That thought terrified the Witcher. He didn't want to bind the human to him but if he gave into his hunger, his desire, he wouldn't let Jaskier go ever again.

The music grows louder, faster, as Ilana's voice rings out, her arms extended out, hands grasping out to the audience, towards Geralt, her words burrowing into the Witcher, making that iron will crack under the assault of her power, her demand that he give into his desires, that he give into her command to give himself over, to be free.

Oh, oh, I want some more Oh, oh, What are you fighting for? Take a bite of my heart tonight. Oh, oh, I want some more! Oh, oh, What are you fighting for! What are you fighting for?

The songstress' eyes slid shut as she felt it. She felt that iron will snap under the demand of "What are you waiting for? What are you fighting for?", a devilish grin stretched across her lips as her golden eyes fell on the Witcher, watching him launch himself up from his chair finally as the audience around him cheered for the song. A smug look graced the singer's face as she watched the Witcher grab his Bard next to him and yank him to his feet. Ohho! This was not what she was expecting at all! The smug look grew into a huge grin as she watched the Witcher manhandle his Bard out of the stage area and muscle him up the stairs.

Ilana took in a deep, deep breath, the grin on her face wouldn't go away now. She could feel the energy flowing over the inn/tavern in thick waves. She was suddenly glad humans couldn't sense lust, desire, and love like she could. There might have been an all out orgy at that point with the energy coming from the room somewhere upstairs where a Witcher finally gave into his heart's desire and his Bard was thinking it was about fucking time!

#one shot #the witcher netflix #the witcher #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #geralt of rivia #Jaskier #witcher fanfiction #no beta #i will go down with this ship

[semperintrepida]

When We With Sappho

“Tell me about her.”

Kassandra drained her cup and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Why? She’s lost to me now.” Was this her fourth cup? Or her fifth?

The woman sitting next to her shifted closer. “I’m a poet. And you seem a good story.”

“You want a story, poet?” Kassandra didn’t know the woman’s name. “I can tell you an epic tale. How I killed monsters and men and hunted the heads of a hydra all across these fucking islands.” She reached for the wine.

The jug slid outside Kassandra’s grasp. She blinked, then saw the poet dragging it across the table. First this annoying woman had given Kassandra the wine, and now she was taking it away.

“I’m more interested in a different sort of story,” the poet said, picking up the jug. She refilled her cup, then Kassandra’s. “Pramnian wine. They make it here, on Lesbos. The grapes wait on the vine longer than anywhere else, growing sweeter the more they’re denied the harvest. Once picked, they’re piled high enough to crush themselves under their own weight. The result is as close to ambrosia as mortal hands can make it.”

Kassandra knew of Pramnian wine and how sweet it could be. It had been the taste on her tongue the night she and Kyra had— She shook her head and stared at the dark liquid in her cup. This wine didn’t taste as good, but then again, nothing tasted as good, no color looked as bright, everything lesser now that there was no Kyra to share it with.

The poet kept talking. “I could go to Athens and find someone singing an epic on every corner. But my poems aren’t about the past. They’re about the here and now.”

“Right now, we’re sitting at a table, drinking in a kapeleion. If you think that’s worthy of a poem….”

“Always so literal, warriors. What’s more exciting: listening to someone tell a tale of battle, or fighting in one?”

“Fighting, of course.”

“That’s the kind of feeling I’m trying to capture, but my poems aren’t about war. They’re about desire.”

“Love poems?” Kassandra huffed a breath out her nose. “I can’t tell you anything true about love.”

“Not love. Desire.”

“Then tell me a poem about desire.”

“When I look at you, even a glance leaves me speechless.

My tongue breaks, and thin fire races under my skin, as my eyes see nothing and my ears fill with a roar.”

Kassandra remembered the wanting, the thrill just beneath her skin, the drum of thunder in her ears, so vivid she could feel it. “Is there more?”

The poet smiled. “It’s no longer desire once you get what you want,” she said. “I gave you a taste of a poem, now give me a little of you, stranger.”

Kassandra desired things she could never have again. She lifted her cup and drank deep. “She is fierce and beautiful,” she began — in the present tense because that was the hopeful tense — “and she caught me suddenly in her snare…” and as Kassandra kept talking, it wasn’t as terrible as she feared it would be, and for a moment it felt as if Kyra was sitting right there with her, as if she’d somehow spoken Kyra into existence, the Kyra she knew before she’d fucked everything up so badly.

Tell me about her, the poet had asked, so Kassandra did.

.oOo.

The sun was setting over Mykonos, shading the island with bright golds and jeweled greens, and Kassandra breathed in the crisp sea air and smiled before she turned from the balcony and walked back into the atrium where the symposium was in full swing.

She found Kyra talking with Barnabas and Iola in her favorite corner, the one piled high with yellow and blue flowers, and Kassandra’s heart did the double-thump it always did whenever they were reunited after a time apart.

“Business is very good,” Barnabas was saying. “We’ve added another run from here to Athens, and opened up a new route from Naxos.”

Kassandra put her arms around Kyra from behind and rested her chin on Kyra’s shoulder. “Soon you’ll be ready to retire,” she told him.

He grinned. “I’ll retire when you do, Kassandra.”

She could feel Kyra’s laughter vibrating against her chest. “Kassandra? Retire? I can’t even get her to slow down.”

“Well, there are a few ways you could…” Kassandra said, and she whispered some suggestions into Kyra’s ear that involved their bed, and their bed, and their bed that made Kyra’s cheeks turn a deep shade of pink in a way Kassandra found immensely satisfying.

Barnabas grinned and raised his eyebrows. “It’s good to see you both so happy,” he said. They — all of them, really — had gone to Hades and back before they ended up in a place of stability and peace, and they’d all learned not to take any of it for granted. “Iola and I were thinking about buying some land here and making this our home port.”

Iola smiled and said, “So if you know of any olive groves that might be coming up for sale…”

“Oh, Barnabas. That would be wonderful,” Kyra said. “I’ll put out the word.”

One of Kyra’s attendants approached and stood off to the side, waiting to be addressed. Kyra tilted her head in acknowledgement, and the attendant said, “I’m sorry to interrupt, Archon, but your guest has arrived.”

Kassandra snuck a kiss on the back of Kyra’s neck before Kyra wriggled out from her arms. “My poet is here,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

“She has her own poet now?” Barnabas asked. He always did love a tale well told, and he’d spent a fair chunk of his visits trading songs and stories with Kyra.

“No, this one is a traveling poet. But Kyra is a fan of her work.”

“Are you?”

“You know pretty words are lost on me.”

“A shame, really, as you’ve inspired so many.”

Iola took Barnabas’s hand in hers. “Let’s refill our cups before the performance begins.”

He raised his cup to Kassandra as the two of them wandered off towards the tables of food and wine, and Kassandra stepped closer to the center of the atrium, where she’d have a good view in every direction. She leaned back against a pillar, and settled in to wait for Kyra’s return.

Soon enough, Kyra reappeared, accompanied by a woman dressed in an elegant peplos, and Kassandra had another opportunity to marvel at the ease in which Kyra could bring a room to silence, in the way she moved, and her subtle projection of authority.

Kyra stood at the edge of the steps that led down to the atrium’s court. “It’s a joy to have all of you here this evening,” she said. “And joining us tonight is one of my favorite poets, Sappho of Lesbos.”

Kassandra’s eyes widened as she got a better look at the poet. She knew this woman, remembering the dingy kapeleion on Lesbos where she’d drunkenly spilled her heart all over a stranger.

She was still trying to recall exactly what she’d said when Kyra found her at the pillar, and Kassandra opened her arms and welcomed Kyra inside them.

The poet turned a searching gaze over the assembled guests, and once her eyes finally met Kassandra's, she gave Kassandra a small nod and the hint of a smile. Then she said to the room, “It’s an honor to perform for the Archon of Mykonos and her friends and family. I’d start with a poem about home and hearth, but given my present company, I think I’ll begin with this one instead.”

“It is usually a terrible thing to be hunted. But when you were the hunter, I didn’t mind.”

And the poem unfurled itself through the imagery of an eagle and a hunter. A few stanzas in, a murmur passed through the guests, and Kassandra could see glances being sent their way. All she could do was hide her smirk in Kyra’s hair and tighten her arms around her hunter.

Eagle and hunter. Pursuer and pursued. And the poem’s central question: who was hunting whom?

As soon as the poem was finished, Kyra said quietly, “I know Sappho’s work, and I’ve never heard that poem.” She turned and stared at Kassandra. “That was about us. How did she know those things?”

It delighted Kassandra that Kyra’s first reaction was to suspect her of being up to something. “I met her, once. Apparently this was the result of that conversation.”

“When?”

“After the Plague of Athens.” When she was still reeling in grief from one loss after another, and after she’d scorched the earth across Lesbos looking for the cultist known as The Seer, only to come up empty handed.

Kyra lifted her hand, and cupped Kassandra’s cheek. She said nothing, but what was there to say? They’d been together long enough to speak without words.

“I never stopped loving you,” Kassandra said. Not once along the way to Hades and back.

Kyra lifted herself on her tiptoes and said, “I’m glad you believed.” And then she leaned in and kissed Kassandra, softly, and Kassandra’s heart did the double-thump it always did whenever she returned home.

Author’s Notes:

The title of this drabble was shamelessly stolen from the title of one of my favorite poems: "When We With Sappho," by Kenneth Rexroth. You should read it.

My deepest apologies to Sappho for putting words in her mouth, and additional apologies to her, Gregory Nagy, and Anne Carson for my mangled re-translation of a snippet of Fragment 31.

Sappho's appearance in this story is an anachronism. Her life predates the Peloponnesian War by a good two centuries.

#kassandra #kyssandra #IFDrabble #ac odyssey #please forgive me the indulgence of writing this #let's call this elegiad-adjacent #as it's a taste of where elegiad is headed #forgive me sappho #elegiad #my ficlet: kyssandra

[thuskindlyshescatters]

Fear

Ever since hearing this song in 7x13 for the first time, I was HYPE AF for it to be dropped on the soundtrack. Prepare to rock.

Oh, and analysis and stuff under the cut. But don’t be surprised if I just jam out.

Like “Armed and Ready,” they trick you with the slow piano opening.

I understand if you’d rather not talk about this.

Goddammit, this has been bothering me since February first. This line sounds SO FAMILIAR, like, I can HEAR someone saying it in my head, but I can’t remember what episode it’s from! Is it real? Does anyone know if this line has been said in the show?

There’s always a chance that we might remain in ignorant bliss.

The theme of “Time to Say Goodbye.” They mourn the loss of their youth more than anything.

Welcome, guitars >:)

We are lucky if our lives can avoid it.

This line could actually be taken literally -- if you avoid fear, you avoid Grimm. A totally Grimm-free life on Remnant sounds VERY hard to come by.

WHO WILL YOU SEEEEE

That’s not a line I’m going to analyze, I’m just jamming out.

But seriously, look at this chorus:

Who will you see there in the darkness? When no one is watching, who will you be? When you’re afraid, when everything changes, will you see a stranger? Feel proud or betrayed?

The point of fear isn’t that you can’t control it, that you can’t wrestle with it. Who you become when you’re wrestling with it is the real issue. Fear makes you make bad choices and terrible mistakes, even if you’re trying to protect yourself from it. But that’s beholden only to you. You are the only person who will be able to control that. When no one is watching, who will you be?

All of your life, guided by truth, right from the start.

Truth is what a lot of our characters had relied on in Volume Seven to make the right decisions. Sharing the truth, after all, is one of the best ways to build trust, the enemy of fear. But then:

One twist of fate, in the blink of an eye, and it all falls apart.

Notice that they didn’t say “one twist of chance.” I believe the reference to fate was a direct callout of “do you believe in destiny” -- that some things, no matter how unfortunate, were always meant to happen. Once you realize that, like Ironwood did, there’s no amount of truth or trust that can assuage the fear of fate.

WILL YOU mAAAKE the RIGHT chOOOICE in THAT MOOOOOOMeeeeent epic violin will you staaand aaaaand bE BRAAAVE OOOOOR BE BROOOOOOOOKEEEEEEN??

But seriously. Ozpin’s speech rocks, and so do these lines.

There’s been a lack of awesome guitar solos this album. This one did not disappoint.

We live in fear that we might fail. Fear that we’ll succeed. Fear that we may not provide the things our loved ones need.

Ironwood’s fear that Salem will win, RWBY’s fear that Ironwood will go through with his plan, and I think Ruby’s fear that she won’t live up to Yang and Qrow’s expectations that she’ll be as great/inspiring as Summer.

But our greatest fear will be realized if we fall and lose ourselves to fear, we’ve become what we feared all our lives.

This is why Salem is a good villain, imho. “Never underestimate the usefulness of others.” She doesn’t need to destroy humanity herself -- they’ll do it for her, if she creates the fears that will push them into it. Maybe the real Salem was the friends we made along the way.

Wait for it... wait for it...

WHO WILL YOU SEEEEE

Love this song <3 I feel it in my bones when I listen to it. It may have usurped “Divide” as my favorite credits song, which is funny, considering how thematically similar they are.

Thanks everyone for reading! These analyses are always fun to do. Until next year!

#rwby #rwby7 #rwby analysis #rwby ost

[thursdayplaid]

There’s a Monster at The End of This Castle

Tags: Renfri’s Brooch, SYMBOLISM, Spooky, Horror, Unreliable Narrator, there are at least five ways of interpreting the story and they’re all valid, Geralt, Jaskier, Yennifer, Eskel, no spoilers but it’s creepy  

Geralt's on contract to slay the monster in the castle.  Jaskier stands on the marble floor in his bare feet and watches.  Renfri's brooch is in the bard's hand, Renfri's brooch is hanging from his neck.  Geralt needs to find the monster, it's dangerous.  Geralt needs to protect Jaskier, he doesn't understand the danger he's in.

Notes: I posted this on Ao3 but I love this creepy fic and want it on my blog.  I've written things because they need to be written in a flurry of possessed inspiration and I've written things because it was something that I wanted to read.  I read the summary for chasing_the_sterek's lovely fluffy story: 'it's what my heart just yearns to say' and both happened.  (You can find the story here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23561143)  This is still one of the favorite things I’ve written - even if it’s not my favorite version of it.  It's weird, it's all context clues, and it's spooky.  While there are some theoretical interpretations that are off base, the majority of interpretations of the story are totally valid so take what you want from it.  It may not be quite the thing for tumblr, but it’s quite the thing for my blog and if that’s not my tumblr experience I don’t know what is!

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Jaskier is small under the vaulted ceiling of the main hall, the heavy velvet of the hanging banners are too good quality to molder yet, but they are dark with dust.  “If you could have one blessing,” Jaskier says, eyes lit bright by the torch in Geralt’s hand, “What would it be?”

Geralt looks at him.  Renfri’s brooch is smooth and hand-warm in his palm, edges smooth and rounded from careful crafting.  It’s been with him for a long time: a little over ten years.  It fits his palm like it’s an extension of his body, the stones catch the candlelight like they’re winking.  Jaskier’s words are so precise, enunciated - recited, that they have to be from something.  A play or a ballad, an epic from the blessed paradise of Oxenfurt.  The inside of the castle is cold and gray, he feels like he’s in a cave, the way the dark wraps around him like walls of stone, a hollow in the earth.

“Is that from one of your songs?” Geralt asked him.

Blinking in genuine surprise, Jaskier pulls back to look at him as though a view further back would improve him somewhat.  “Why would it be from one of my songs?”

Geralt doesn’t know anything about art.  He understands it as little as it understands him.  He can read enough to do his work but finds anything other than the most straightforward of records to smack of dishonesty.  A frigid wind whips its way viper fast through the cracks in the wall.   The feeling of having his skin shredded by the cold is so intense he almost touches is face to see if he can feel the twisting ridge of his cheekbone through the slivers of flesh and muscle.

Jaskier is clapping as he sings on a determined mission to go through all the verses of Fishmonger’s Daughter that he knows.  There was the faun, the dragon, the witch – which had been particularly dirty, and other verses on and on until Jaskier faltered.

Geralt clears his throat as delicately as he was able.  “Acted like a whore for a big manticore.”

The bard’s smile grows huge, his eyes glowing with a joy that filled Geralt with an equal mix of delight and terror.  He throws his arms around Geralt’s neck and made a sound like a laugh, like sunrise, like Geralt is a person.  “I knew you’ve been listening to me!  All these years and I had a budding bard all along!”  

The firelight tints Jaskier’s pale skin toward green, he looks like a god of spring time.  They hold hands and dance round and round and round.  In Geralt’s long life he can’t remember laughing this much or this hard, or even just indulging in something so silly.  Jaskier is smiling, as he moves so quick in Geralt’s arms, a shadow that’s crawled its way up from the ground to have its go of a life.

“Eskel, what are you doing here?” Geralt asks.  “Did the Countess not tell you I had taken the contract?” Lettenhove is bright and loud, a thriving city but one that is not so big that there should be a mix up like this.

Eskel stares at him.  His silver sword is in his hand gleaming with oil.

There is a rustle and Jaskier emerged from the dark, picking through rubble with his soft broad bare feet, there’s nothing wrong with them but to Geralt they look like a child’s feet for all that there is hair on the toes.  Jaskier should have better shoes on, where are his boots?  “Hello Eskel,” Jaskier says, his voice soft in a way that is strange, that makes Geralt’s head hurt.  “Come sit by the fire with us.”  

Eskel looks between the two of them, nods.  He doesn’t look right, there is something off about him.

Geralt needs to finish the contract, he should finish searching the castle but he hasn’t seen Eskel in what seems like forever and Jaskier is as likely as not to trip, fall, and get himself killed.  Doesn’t he know there’s danger here?  He puts a hand on Jaskier’s back, pulling him close to his side as they walked so they had to walk in step not to fall over each other.  For a moment the bard looks enraged, feral, and then his face smooths and calms.

When they get back to camp Geralt feels enraged himself.  “Jaskier!  I told you not to let the fire go out!  You know there’s a monster in the castle!” his voice is too loud, he’s shouting too loud.  “You’re a moron at the best of times, but I thought I could expect you to have the good sense not to sit in the dark waiting to be killed!  You could be hurt, this isn’t a fairy tale!”

Eskel moves past them, rearranging the fire and getting it going again.  He seems unnerved.  It’s not like Geralt to lose his temper like that.   Geralt sits Jaskier down and arranges him in place, smoothing down the collar of his camisole loose and open and is half-tucked into those colorful trousers of his.  The sleeves are red, the sleeves are so red. He wants to sit next to Jaskier but he is too angry so he paces until he calms.

He can’t speak to Jaskier without losing his temper so he speaks to Eskel.  “We’ve hunted together before,” he says.  “It’ll be pleasant to do again.  I’ll even split the money with you, it’s no problem.”

Eskel looks at Jaskier first, Jaskier’s back is to Geralt so the bard’s expression is obscured.  The dark line of leather Jaskier uses to hang Renfri’s brooch under his shirt looks like a wound against the back of the bard’s neck.  A wound in the dark black with blood.  There is an impulse to stare and an impulse to tear his eyes out, he does neither.  Then Jaskier turns to face him.  “If you could have one blessing, what would it be?”

“I don’t have time for your recitations,” Geralt tells him.  “Eskel, shall we?”

“Yes,” Eskel says, but he doesn’t seem as happy about it as Geralt expects.  

Pointing at Jaskier, Geralt says with as much menace as he’s able.  “You don’t know what the monster could do to you out there in the dark.  Stay.   Here.”

“Alright,” Jaskier agrees, easy and turns his head away again.  He speaks to the fire in a light dancing voice.  “Remember Eskel, Geralt has always been a better swordsman than you.”

It’s an odd thing to say, but Jaskier has always been an odd duck.

When he and Eskel wander far enough away out of earshot, Geralt puts a hand on Eskel’s shoulder.  “Are you alright?”

“Am I alright?” Eskel looks at him with open shock, he looks stunned.

He doesn’t know how to say Eskel looked hesitant to go with him on the hunt.  Doesn’t want to imply that his feelings were hurt or something equally ludicrous.  Witchers don’t have feelings, they don’t care about people.  “Do you have enough coin?  You’re handling things?”

“Yes, Geralt,” Eskel says slowly as if trying to feel his way toward what Geralt means.  “I have enough coin.”

“Because if you need this contract, it would be alright, I’d let you take the money.  I wouldn’t want Jaskier to get a big head, but he makes enough singing that it would be okay.  We manage fine.”

Eskel stares at him.  After it’s been so long Geralt is afraid he misspoke, Eskel nods at him, slaps his shoulder.  They patrol for a long time, talking to each other.  In an attempt to cover his previous misstep, he asks about Lil Bleater.  It’s good to reminisce although its clear something is weighing on Eskel’s mind or perhaps he hit his head, Geralt suspects that might be the case.  There’s white in Eskel’s hair.  That happens sometimes when there’s been a cut to the head.

Eskel will tell part of a story and then ask Geralt about it or he’ll get a detail wrong and Geralt will have to correct him.  Each time such a sad, hurt, hopeful look comes over Eskel’s face that Geralt doesn’t want to say anything about it.  He’s not good with words.  Eskel doesn’t even remember how long it’s been since they saw each other last.  If Eskel’s memory is going how could he hope to help him.  They walk through the ballroom, up the stairs to duck in and out of the bedrooms, looking under beds like they’re children playing Hunt and Snare in the barracks when the master witchers aren’t paying attention.  The castle must have been beautiful once with its bright colored stained glass and its marble floors, the room full of dried flowers, red-brown sheets, and the piles of sheet music.  Now it smells like an old tomb, skin turned to paper and bones to old wood.  There is white in Eskel’s hair.  This makes his head hurt again.  Eskel goes to open a door, but Geralt saves him.   “There’s a cave in on the other side, it’s quite a drop.  A step through the door and you’d fall to your death.”

Eskel looks at him just like he’s been looking at him all night.  It’s like a joke in a foreign language and it makes him uncomfortable.

“It’s hidden again,” Geralt finally says when the night has begun to tilt its way into very early morning.  The monster is sly, it doesn’t want to be detected.   “We’ll have to search again tomorrow.”

Eskel claps him on the shoulder, “Sure.  I can set up camp next to your fire in the front hall.”

“Jaskier better be there when we get back.  I’m tiring of his wandering,” Geralt said.

“Why don’t you tell him that staying by the fire is the one blessing you want?” Eskel asks, mouth quirking up at the joke.

Geralt slams him against the wall so hard that for a moment he thinks he may have killed him, but he is so angry.  He is so angry.  He doesn’t care. It should hurt.

“Don’t you say that to him!” Geralt roars, he doesn’t recognize his own voice.  He’s never sounded like this even at his most monstrous.  “Don’t you ever say that to him!”  He can’t cry, witchers can’t cry but he howls against Eskel’s chest.  He howls like the cold wind with its mouth full of venom.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he tells Jaskier as the bard follows along behind him with shadow soft footfalls.  “It’s dangerous, you’re going to get yourself killed.”  The bard’s shirt is so red, it’s like a flame to a dangerous, vicious moth.  He keeps telling the bard.  There is a monster, it will kill him if it’s able to, it can’t be taught or trained or tamed.  It is a monster, it destroys things.  It destroys people like Jaskier who are human, who can be killed in so many stupid ways.

“I need material for my next ballad,” Jaskier replies, he almost seems to dance as he walks.  He holds Renfri’s brooch in front of his face so it looks like it’s smiling at Geralt and then moves it to reveal his own smile.  Geralt smiles back at the bard’s silliness.  Jaskier is a living illusion, looking dainty and fragile until someone stumbles too close and realizes how broad in the shoulder and tall he is.  The man is a sort of magician. “It’s called the Witcher and the Brick Wall.”

Geralt can’t help being curious.  “Does he climb the brick wall?”

“No, he bangs his head against it.”

Geralt stops to look at him but Jaskier just smiles and tucks Geralt’s hair behind his ear.  It makes Geralt feel odd when Jaskier does things like that.  When he’s kind.  It makes Geralt afraid although he doesn’t know why.  He doesn’t know how to act around Jaskier.  He doesn’t know the rules of engagement.  He’s holding Renfri’s brooch in his hand.  He’s had it for ten years.  It’s been a reminder a weight on his back, longer than he expected – ten whole years without being lost or stolen.  He has a habit of losing that which is most precious.  He had been worried it would slip away by misadventure, that he’d wouldn’t listen or be too slow to protect it – things of value were chewed up and spat out by the world, but no.  The brooch lasted, his knew its shape in his hand.  He could pick it out blind from a pile of gold, from its weight on the swing of a sword, from the way its shape made it smile at him in the dark.  Jaskier asked about it of course.  Jaskier was always so curious about the mundane parts of being a witcher.  

What Geralt ate, how he made his potions, why he sharpened his sword so often.

It is part of being careful.  Geralt might yell but he has never done anything to hurt Jaskier.

His head hurt.

He has never done anything to hurt Jaskier.

His head hurt.

HE HAS NEVER DONE ANYTHING TO HURT JASKIER.

Jaskier takes his hand.  He is barefoot and his shirt is so red.  He puts the brooch into Geralt’s hand.

“Geralt,” he says.  “If life could give you one blessing.”

A woman with dark hair is in the entry hall talking to Jaskier.  It makes him feel weird, to see a stranger talking to the bard.

“We have a visitor,” Jaskier tells him.  His fingers are curled around Renfri’s brooch, it doesn’t bother Geralt.  It’s big enough to fill a hand but not small enough to make a fist around.  Jaskier is tactile, he likes to touch things to understand them.  He touches the little potion bottles to understand them, he touches Geralt’s armor to understand it, he touches Geralt’s face to understand it.  Jaskier will give the brooch back when he’s done.

“Hello,” he says gruffly, usually that’s enough.

She just blinks at him, her eyes are a startling shade of purple.  Everyone just looks at him.  “Hello back.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt tells the bard.  “It’s one thing to have a conquest in every city, it’s another to bring a woman to a place where there’s a monster.”

“You don’t know me,” the woman says.  Her dress is odd, he’s never seen anything like it.  He doesn’t pay a great deal of attention to women’s fashion but even he would notice how odd her dress looks.

“No offense miss, but I try to stay as far away as from Jaskier’s bardic romances as I can.”  Something occurs to him.  “Are you the Countess de Stael?”

She makes an odd noise like she swallowed a peach pit.  “No, not the Countess of Stael.”

“Geralt’s memory has been a bit take it or leave it,” Jaskier says, shrugging.  

Geralt says, hurt in a way he can’t articulate.  “I remembered the Countess of Stael, didn’t I?  And you only mentioned once that you met her at the festival of yours.  My mind’s like a steel trap.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” the woman muttered to herself.

For the next few days he runs into her everywhere, poking around with an odd lantern.  “What’s that?” he asks her.

“That’s right,” she murmurs.  “After your time.  It’s just a lantern, a more modern version.  Lasts longer.”

He can see that, he’s not a rube.  He’s been around, he’s seen things.  “I don’t know what Jaskier told you about magic and adventure, but I’m on a contract.  There’s a dangerous monster here.  You should be careful.”

“Alright,” she agrees.  “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

In the morning there’s a pile of molten metal on the floor of the great hall, there’s a fire that’s big enough he has to pull Jaskier back from it.  Jaskier is just standing there watching because of course he is, nothing on his feet, no armor, nothing to defend himself with but Renfri’s brooch in his hands.

“What are you doing?” he roars, he isn’t sure who he’s roaring at.

The woman stares at him.  Why is everyone always staring at him?  She looks at him with his arms holding Jaskier behind him but she speaks to the bard.  “I thought it had to be his swords.  What else could it be?   Jaskier, what is it keeping him here?  I’m running out of things to burn.”

“Then stop burning things!” Geralt yells at her.

“How should I know?” Jaskier replies, dull and mulish.  “That’s the sort of thing a friend would know, not me.”

“Jaskier,” she says, her voice turned dangerous.  “You have to stop this.”

“Half my life,” Jaskier tells her.  “Half of my life.  I’m not stopping anything.”

“Jaskier,” she says, the word like a drawn sword.

Jaskier’s shoulders drop in defeat, he holds his hands behind his back with his fingers tucked into the opening of the brooch.  “You think I don’t know how this turns out?  What we’ll become?  It isn’t me, alright?  I’m too vain to allow myself to…”  He looks at Geralt with a crooked smile.  “I guess Geralt does value my companionship after all.  I appreciate your help, Yen.  But.  This is better than it was at the beginning.  At least he’s stable now.  I’m keeping him stable.  He’ll understand when he wants to understand.”

Who were they talking about?

“Alright,” she says.  She rubs her face with her hands.  “Alright.  I guess I’ll check in in a hundred years.”  

Jaskier smiles at her, his expression full of relief.

The woman hugs Jaskier and she seems to want to hug Geralt as well.  Geralt isn’t used to anyone hugging him but Jaskier and he doesn’t know her.   She feels dangerous.  She seems unhappy but she leaves.

There is a monster with a silver sword.  Jaskier is fleet of foot even without shoes.  He runs, away from the fire but toward Geralt.  He moves as though carried on the air.  He is beautiful, like an arrow set loose.  The cold wind screams and whistles its way through the cracks in the castle walls.  The relief on Jaskier’s face when he sees him almost knocks the air out of Geralt’s lungs.  Ducking his head the bard slides like silk, like a whetstone along a blade under one of the witcher’s outstretched arms to hide behind the wall of muscle and armor Geralt creates just by standing still.   Geralt can’t find his swords, so he leaps on the monster with his bare hands.  The cold wind cuts into his bones, into his skin, into his gut.

Geralt has always been good at defeating monsters, even when he didn’t want to be.

Jaskier takes him by the shoulders and leads him back to the fire.  He sits him down.  “Don’t you worry about a thing.  Jaskier will take care of everything.  Just sit right there and look at the fire and here’s Renfri’s brooch and just-  Think witchery thoughts.”

Geralt looks up at him.  He wants to ask what’s wrong, he wants to ask why Jaskier is acting like that, he wants to ask Jaskier to stay by the fire.  He holds Renfri’s brooch in both hands.  It is familiar.  He’s had it for ten years.  They would sit by the fire and Geralt would sharpen his sword with it smiling up at him and Jaskier would sing and Roach would nibble on the leaves of low hanging branches.  It was a reminder that he must always be careful.  “Where’s your lute?”

“Some place safe,” Jaskier says.  “I know every secret hidey hole in these halls.”  For a moment, Jaskier presses their foreheads together.  “You are Geralt of Rivia.  You’re Geralt of Rivia, okay?”

“I know who I am,” he says.

Jaskier hugs him tight for a moment and then runs off into the dark.

Geralt wants to finish his contract quickly.  He worries about Jaskier who has barely any sense to speak of and acts like he has even less.  The monster here is dangerous, wicked.  It could kill the bard with a word. Jaskier’s going to get himself killed.  There’s something wrong with the potions in Geralt’s bag.  Some of them are missing.

Are they?  His head hurts.

Where are his swords?

Jaskier stood under the vaulted ceiling of the castle.  His feet are bare, his sleeves are so red, there’s a sword in his hands held out and offered to Geralt.  The witcher examines it, it’s been well-tended, cared for.   Its pommel is different than he’s used to, a cat’s head is at the end.   It is a silver sword though, it must be his.   Geralt hangs Renfri’s brooch on its leather tie around Jaskier’s neck and smooths it flat against his chest.  Jaskier’s smile almost falters, his body bowing as though under the weight.   The brooch is finely made and smiling, he’s had it for ten years.  It’s a remarkable brooch, he can’t hold onto anything for ten years.  Witchers don’t have treasured possessions, to treasure something is to beg the universe to snatch it away.  Loving something is just begging for destiny to swoop in with death on its wings.  Things are so fragile.  But.  It’s a good brooch.  As familiar as a shadow.

Jaskier smiles at him, standing so still by the firelight.  His skin is so pale and his sleeves are all red.  The flames are bright.  It’s a decent fire, it’ll keep the monster away. “Geralt,” he asks.  “If life could give you one blessing, what would it be?”

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #the witcher fanfic #jaskier #horror #There's a Monster at the End of This Book is still one of my favorite books #I read too much gothic horror as a child #it continues to be a problem #long post #3000 words

[tillidontneedfantasy]

‘Fine Line’ - Harry Styles REVIEW: Finding His Balance

“When I played it for the label, I told them, ‘This is the first single. It’s two minutes, thirty-five. You’re welcome,’” Harry Styles recalls when discussing “Lights Up” in a track-by-track breakdown of his second solo studio effort, Fine Line, with Rolling Stone writer Rob Sheffield. Thank you, indeed. “Lights Up” was an excellent first single choice for a number of reasons, now all the more clear in the context of the album. Though oddly structured and not particularly radio-friendly, it’s interesting, catchy, short and to the point: as much as you try to hide who you are, once the lights are up, those watching will know, so you might as well shine; but do you know?

Just as importantly, does Harry? Fine Line is a vague exploration of the self, both personally and musically, filled with cryptic platitudes and slick guitar riffs. However, the one aspect of himself Styles seems to be most acquainted with, and thus most comfortable sharing, is the “dark running through” his heart that cannot be extinguished by all the lights; in fact, it is amplified. Perhaps Styles finds it difficult to be honest in his relationships, but Fine Line is sprinkled with dark confessions, most notably in a series in the middle of the album (immediately following “Lights Up”): “I can tell that you are at your best / I’m selfish so I’m hating it” in “Cherry,” a track of spewing bitter jealousy; “There’s no one to blame but the drink and my wandering hands” in “Falling,” a heart-wrenching ballad for the books; “I’m just an arrogant son of a bitch / who can’t admit when he’s sorry,” in the pleasant-sounding yet morose ditty “To Be So Lonely.”

Those confessionals are the strongest demonstrations of Styles’s songwriting potential, and are the meat and bones of Fine Line’s takeaway: losing someone you once loved can cause you to almost lose yourself. Hopefully, you find yourself along the road to healing; but Styles often leaves the listener wondering if he really does know who he is now or not. What we do know is two things: 1) The end of his last relationship caused a lot of pain and introspection and 2) The man likes to have sex. Understandable points. Good equation for a successful album.

BEST TRACK: “Fine Line”

The title track and closer, “Fine Line” immediately invokes emotion as soon as it begins, and it only intensifies throughout its six-minute and eighteen-second duration. As the song moves along, new elements are subtly and meticulously added, layered in with his low and almost careful singing in a way that sounds like nature. Around four minutes in, the song really starts to come alive, the instrumentation building and building towards an outro that reaches a crescendo at Styles’s final “we’ll be alright,” and then perfectly finishes with high-pitch vocal notes that feel like freedom before it drifts out with a few light piano notes. While its message about maintaining balance on the fine line between the extremes of love resonates, the real victory of this song is its ability to move you with just the music. Despite its length, it always feels like it ends too soon.

WEAKEST TRACK: “Golden”

While a pleasant-sounding opener and a good tone-setter for the rest of the record sonically, “Golden” could have been cut in half, with about twenty fewer repetitions of the title, and used as more of brief introduction or interlude instead. In contrast to the closer, “Fine Line,” which is the longest song on the album and includes just as much- if not more- repetitions of its title, it serves a purpose in that song, whereas in “Golden” it feels like filler. This monotonous track is the most prominent example of how often Styles’s lyrics seem to be lacking; he surely has the ability to improve, he just needs to access it.

THE IN-BETWEENS

Luckily for Styles, the production on this album is so outrageously good that it’s enough to keep you interested throughout. “She,” a six-minute psychedelic rock song is an epic trip (I mean, Styles’s guitarist, Mitch Rowland, wrote it on mushrooms, go figure) into a daydream with the perfect woman who doesn’t exist. “Canyon Moon” is a road-trip-ready, light, feel-good song where his musical influences are rather apparent; Styles cites Joni Mitchell and Crosby, Stills, and Nash as his muses, and another idol of his, Steve Nicks, claims it to be her favorite track on the record, a lovely feat. The pre-released singles “Lights Up,” “Watermelon Sugar,” and “Adore You” are sincerely all pop perfection, more mature and refined from his 1D days. The most experimental track, “Treat People With Kindness,” is interesting but falls short for a song that feels like years in the making, considering it has been a phrase Styles and his fans have claimed for the past few years. Although it is clear that Styles’s intention with the song was to spread a positive message which focuses on being kind and not taking life too seriously (though he proclaims that “if our friends all pass away / it’s okay,” and…I don’t know, is it really okay, Harry?!?) it feels like he could have done more with it. One particularly good line is towards the end of the track when he sings, “all we ever want is automatic all the time,” and perhaps he could’ve taken his own advice and given a song with such a grand title a bit more effort.

BEST PROSPECTIVE SINGLE: “Falling”

A close second to “Fine Line,” “Falling” is one of the strongest in Styles’s solo discography and more impressive considering he wrote it in about twenty minutes in a towel. In this beautiful ballad, Styles opens his heart, grabbing the listener’s in the process. “What am I now? / What if I’m someone I don’t want around?” he sings in a panic. This moment of self-reflection after the end of a relationship truly settles in as reality and you can no longer look away from your mistakes is painfully relatable. This track is the most honest of the bunch, and thus feels necessary. With all the previously mentioned pop jams already aptly released as singles, “Falling” feels like the wisest choice going forward to keep the momentum; listeners love a man openly grieving a heartbreak and taking responsibility for his actions (even cheating, I suppose, as is mildly implied in the first verse…I mean, this is your mans? Good thing his regret sounds sincere at least), and the unbelievable tone of his voice when he belts the last word of the bridge, “and I get the feeling that you’ll never need me again” is just the icing on the cake.

                                                                   ***

It is always a difficult task for a former group member to come into their own as a solo artist, and very few have done so with the admiration and reverence that Styles has accrued thus far. With his self-titled debut solo record in 2017, Styles made it clear, as most group-departing members do, that he had a sound different from that of his claim to fame in One Direction. His seriousness as a musician was now established through the positive reception of his debut, and thus his success allowed him to have a little more fun on Fine Line. It also allowed him to get a little more candid and authentic, knowing that the world has accepted him with open arms and has been begging for more. Styles mostly delivers with Fine Line, but in some ways it feels unfinished. The musical production is intriguing and exciting, and by far the best thing about this album, but is still somewhere between a regeneration of classic inspirations and a sound unique to Styles himself; all he needs is a little more time to find his own signature style (no pun intended) rather than just creating a conglomerate of musical elements from his influences and signing his name. But in the meantime, the music still holds up. The real conundrum is the lyrics, which are well and fine, but do not effectively communicate the truth hiding behind the sentiments yet give you just enough to let him get away with it. If he had given us just a bit more, Fine Line could have been a true triumph. However, this is only his second album, and being a confessional songwriting superstar while still preserving your right to privacy is, well, a fine line to walk (I had to, I’m sorry!), but I’m sure he’ll find his balance in no time. Grade: 3.5/5

DISCLAIMER – REVIEWER’S BIAS: I was a very casual One Direction fan during their peak of fame. I think Midnight Memories is a great pop album and I stand by that. I’ve always been more of a Niall girl, but I have never been able to completely resist Harry’s charisma; I’m only human. I listened to his debut album in 2017 maybe twice, three times at most, and just thought it was fine, but not particularly impressive. But since then it’s been impossible to deny his talent and star power. I was very intrigued by “Lights Up,” and with every single release I had found myself enjoying the songs more than I wanted to admit. I think Fine Line is a really great album. Sonically, it is in my exact sweet spot of the kind of music I absolutely love, so I was doomed to like it from the start. What stopped me from giving it a grade of 4 or higher though was that even with multiple listens I struggle to understand what the hell this guy is trying to say in his music. Many times, it takes me reading what die-hard stans say to understand what message he’s trying to send. Unfortunately, that is a failure to me. I know plenty of people love cryptic and ambiguous lyrics or poetry, but as a consumer, I want to be able to understand the story or the message with at least a couple of listens. Of course, lyrics can and should be left up to interpretation, but sometimes I don’t even know what he wants me to interpret! From my perception, this is just a reflection of Harry holding back from truly saying what he wants (with few exceptions, such as “Falling”). I think he is so talented and has so much potential but just needs a little more time unlocking it. I’m excited to see what he does in the future.

#harry styles #fine line #one direction #golden #watermelon sugar #adore you #lights up #cherry #falling #to be so lonely #she #sunflower vol. 6 #canyon moon #treat people with kindness #tpwk #music #pop #stevie nicks #joni mitchell #crosby stills and nash #1d

[johannesviii]

Top 10 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 2007

18 to 19 years old. Things were slowly starting to get better and better.

15 honorable mentions, but this is still only a top 10. What an incredible, amazing year for music. My favorite hit song for the entire decade is in there! I think everyone already knows what that is because I am, in fact, extremely predictable.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

Second to third year of my History studies. Met a great guy. So great, in fact, that I married him in 2019 because we’re still living together 13 years later. Got my first summer job but spent my first pay on driving lessons, because, again, I needed to get out of my parents’ appartment and knowing how to drive would be good to find a job. I had a much better access to internet. I still had great grades. Things were getting much better.

I stopped making my personal lists of favorite songs that year, and I had an mp3 player, which really opened a world of possibilities even if you could only put something like 40 songs on it, at best.

I was still reading Rock Mag a lot. As you can see, the biggest controversy at the time was what was emo and what wasn’t.

We were alright.

As far as non-elligible songs go, well there’s I Still Remember by Bloc Party (and the fact I can’t put it on the list is a heartbreak and a half) and basically everything from Year Zero by Nine Inch Nails. Nightwish, Epica and Within Temptation all had pretty good albums too.

Here’s a metric ton of honorable mentions first!

Snow (Red Hot Chili Peppers) - Perfectly pleasant song.

D.A.N.C.E (Justice) - Never understood why this was so popular. Still good.

Love is Gone (David Guetta) - Heyyyy another repetitive dance track, perfect.

Miracle (Cascada), Smack That (Akon), Chasing Cars (Snow Patrol), SexyBack (Justin Timberlake) and Say It Right (Nelly Furtado & Timbaland) - Still elligible songs for that year. Still great songs. Still not making the list.

Butterfly (Superbus) - I didn’t like this band, but I liked that song.

Thanks for the Memories (Fall Out Boy) - Same here basically.

Who Knew (Pink) - Not her best, but not her worst by a mile either.

Walk It Out (Unk) - Stayed in my head for days, I swear. I have no idea what the general opinion about it is nowadays. Maybe that’s a humiliating pick and I genuinely have no idea.

Crank That (Soulja Boy) - I do, however, know that the fact this very nearly made the list IS hilarious.

Alive (Mondotek) - Laugh all you want about the tektonik phenomenon, this is still a banger and a half.

Sound of Freedom (Bob Sinclar & Cutee B) - Not as good as Rock This Party. That’s the only thing I can say against it.

Umbrella (Rihanna) - This is an edit because holy shit I forgot Umbrella. It very nearly made the list too. Sorry.

And now, possibly one of the best top tens yet.

10 - This Ain’t A Scene, It’s An Arms Race (Fall Out Boy)

US: #32 / FR: #71

Almost everyone got the lyrics wrong. The title is way too long. I really don’t like this band of pretentious idiots; if you’re gonna be pretentious at least write about something more grand and epic than your own navel, and go all out (more on that later). Nobody ever really cared about their supposed feud with Panic! At The Disco. And, to make matters even worse, the singer looked exactly like the terrible ex I had punched in the face the previous year.

This is still a damn good song and it’s on the list instead of any of the honorable mentions.

RIP me.

9 - How To Save A Life (The Fray)

US: #24 / FR: Not on the list

You already know I loved The Fray. This song could have apparently also made the previous list but it’s on this one instead. It was overplayed. I still loved it.

8 - U + Ur Hand (Pink)

US: #29 / FR: Not on the list

In 2002, I bought Pink’s Missundaztood album and as you might remember this was the second album I ever bought in my life, right before the gigantic trainwreck that highschool was.

The fact that about five years (that felt like twelve) later, Pink was on the other side of that trainwreck, back in my earphones, just as energetic and fun as she was before, was nothing short of heartwarming.

7 - Je Suis Un Homme (Zazie)

US: Not on the list / FR: #43

I’m not gonna beat around the bush. This song is terrifying.

Here’s a translation. Yeah, it’s about humanity destroying the Earth and itself in various ways, and it’s preachy, but holy shit, how can something be so bleak, so scary and still so catchy. It’s a mystery.

6 - Double Je (Christophe Willem)

US: Not on the list / FR: #2

When I first heard this song, I genuinely thought that was also Zazie and I was like oh wow, she’s learned to have fun again after that bleak, bleak song.

But no. She only wrote it, and it’s sung by this guy. It’s relatable as hell (”When I grow up it’s gonna be easy, I’ll finally know what I am”, “Who’s fault is it? / I’m something and its opposite / Double me”). The fact that a guy had this kind of voice and that a ton of people loved it (enough for him to win a big talent show and make this the second biggest song of the year!) also did wonders for my dysphoria, by the way.

5 - Ta Meuf (Faf Larage)

US: Not on the list / FR: #19

This is a song applying the most obnoxious rap and hip hop clichés about gangsters (and guys in general) to a woman, and she ends up terrorising all the guys and they’re realising these clichés might, in fact, be really toxic.

It’s a great song about gender roles usually seen in this kind of music and instead of being preachy, it’s hilarious, and well-written (I mean, it’s Faf Larage, it’s a given, but still). Check it out.

4 - Relax Take It Easy (Mika)

US: Not on the list / FR: #12

All hail the new king of pop. He was here to stay and what a breath of fresh air he was. This was very much his year in Europe as soon as the album Life In Cartoon Motion dropped.

My significant other absolutely loved this album and we listened to it wayyyy, way too much, and even with all the radio overplay AND the overplay when we were together, I still can’t get enough of this album.

3 - Love Today (Mika)

US: Not on the list / FR: #39

Here he is again!

If this was any other year this would top the list very easily. What were the US even thinking back then to not let this guy chart. Why isn’t Mika a huge star over there too. What is your problem guys. Do you have something against fun or what.

Anyway, here’s possibly the best comment on the music video:

I mean. You’re not wrong.

2 - What I’ve Done (Linkin Park)

US: #38 / FR: Not on the list

Aaaaaaand they’re back. And they’re once again topping my list. Lord have mercy on me. I loved them so much.

This was the first step into their modern sound, less raw, more U2. A couple of years later, when Lacuna Coil released Shallow Life, I used to joke that Lacuna Coil was trying to sound more and more like Linkin Park, that Linkin Park was trying to sound more and more like U2, and that U2 was trying to sound more and more like boring garbage and. I mean. I wasn’t wrong there.

My absolute favorite part of the song is at 2:24, when the music calms down a bit and the lyrics go “I start again / And whatever pain may come / Today this ends / I’m forgiving what I’ve done” and then the guitar explodes again. So powerful. Love it.

And now you’re probably thinking “so... Linkin Park was back, and with such a top quality song and it’s NOT your #1? After you put a Linkin Park song or a Linkin Park remix at #1 for three years in a row in 2002, 2003 AND 2004? What’s going on, Jo? Are you okay?”

Oh I’m more than okay. Friends and enemies, here comes the absolute best hit song of the entire decade and possibly of my entire life so far.

You probably already know what it is.

1 - Welcome to the Black Parade (My Chemical Romance)

US: #59 / FR: Not on the list (shame on you French charts)

I know I keep complaining about stuff I love not charting, or charting but not high enough to make any year-end list, but... How was this even allowed to chart. Why and how did it end up on the US year-end list when so many more radio-friendly hits I loved couldn’t even scratch the hot 100.

I’m not complaining at all. I’m just baffled.

Play the first note on a piano and I’m already a wreck. Heck, I’m pretty sure everyone from my generation is. It was basically our very own Bohemian Rhapsody. It still is. Where do I even start.

Oh. I know. Look at this page from a 2006 Rock Mag, it’s gold.

Yep, they highlighted The Open Door by Evanescence and praised it, and were like “this is very risky and ambitious and we’re not sure you’re gonna like this” for The Black Parade by My Chemical Romance. Hilarious in hindsight.

A few months later, the same magazine was desesperately using double pages to interview them because everyone adored the album.

So in case you’ve never listened to it (I’m... not even sure why I’m doing this since I’m pretty sure even people who don’t like this type of music have tried to out of sheer curiosity), it’s a concept album about a guy (...possibly. I mean there’s a lot of trans and/or nonbinary hints in the lyrics and did you really NEED to make all of this more relatable? What the hell guys) dying of cancer, remembering all the good and the bad things that happened in his life, and since his fondest memory is seeing a marching band once as a child, death arrives in the form of a marching band. He then settles some scores with his friends and family, says his goodbyes, and... and doesn’t die in the end. He ends up surviving the whole ordeal, and the last song, Famous Last Words, is one the most incredible things I’ve ever heard. It’s so propulsive, uplifting and motivating. “I am not afraid to keep on living / I am not afraid to walk this world alone”. Holy. Shit. Sadly, it’s not elligible.

Welcome to the Black Parade is basically the centerpiece of the album, as you already know or might have guessed, but here’s the thing. It also works out of context because there’s already an entire narrative arc within this one song. It’s larger than life. It’s about death and the meaning of existence. It basically contains all the stages of grief, and the conclusion it reaches is that this guy will be remembered and therefore, he will transcend death. It’s full of rage and passion and triumph. There’s key changes. There’s tempo changes. There’s everything. It’s a rock opera in a single song. I put it on my mp3 player immediately after listening to the album, and it’s still on my mp3 player today. I never, ever removed it. I listened to it countless times and every single time, it feels like rewatching one of my favorite movies.

Best hit song of 2007 by a mile. Best hit song of the decade, hands down, and now that the 2010s are over, I’m pretty confident in saying nothing has topped it so far. I’d say “fight me” if I thought this was a controversial opinion, but it’s not even that controversial.

And that feels damn right.

Next up: Is... is this a list with actual filler? Are you telling us there was ONE mediocre year for music in the 2000s? Sounds fake but okay

#Johannes’ bad not good pretty terrible music lists #music #long post #flashing lights #eye contact tw

[brownskinsugarplum76]

Deceiving Looks, Pt. 1

I have several kiss prompts in my queue still from a few months back, and I’ve finally polished up the first bit of the next one. This comes from @callmethehunter's request and is for a forbidden kiss. I guess you could say this isn’t forbidden as much as it would be less likely... There are a few reasons why this couple would turn heads in the early 70s.

I intend to write more of this, including smut (this first installment is PG-13-ish). This is a fun pairing! ❤️❤️❤️

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

Robert makes his way to a bench and sits down before he stumbles again. He watches Bonzo stagger around the pool and through the front door of the hotel. He is too out of it himself at the moment to be of any use to his friend.

He sweeps his curtain of curls to the side and produces a joint that was resting inconspicuously behind his ear, and he pulls a slim pack of matches from his back pocket. He lights up. He figures any hotel staff unlucky enough to be walking the grounds at 5 a.m. will only care if he doesn't offer a puff or two.

He stretches his long legs but can't get any relief. His jeans are clinging to his body tighter than usual in the humid, cloud-covered Honolulu morning air, and he can't wait to peel them off for the last time before going to sleep.

He exhales, closes his eyes, and lets himself go from the frenetic dash to the show, the volley of energy thrown at the band from thousands of fans, and the good, bad and ugly of the groupies available for the choosing for hours after the final note had been played. He closes his eyes and smiles. It's good to be Robert Plant, he thinks. It has become a mantra for him when he gets homesick, or when the last journalists without a clue insist on writing negative reviews.

"You've got something there that I need, I think. May I?"

The voice is feminine, throaty, and assured. Almost seductive. His smile grows to epic proportions.

He prepares to feast his eyes on a lass who seems to have followed him back to the hotel, but his sexy comeback gets caught in his throat. Rather than a twenty-something in a t-shirt, jeans, and shorts, he sees pink heels, brown legs, and a rose-colored Chanel skirt, with its matching suit jacket draped over an arm ending with gold bangles and colorful rings. Above her white sweater shell, he finds the smiling face of a woman who, he's sure, always gets what she wants. Her poise is perfect as she stands, and a rolling suitcase rests next to her. She has the regal sensuality of Diana Ross, and the flawless makeup and hair to match. He smooths his hair a bit, but he knows it's a losing battle, after the night he’s had.

His smile falters. "Ma'am?" he stutters out. He realizes with horror that his accent must make it sound more like "mom" to her ears, and he can't fight the Mrs. Robinson fantasies that flood his still-sluggish brain. "Miss?"

“Your cigarette,” she says. She realizes that he’s a little out of it and smiles sweetly, waiting for him to come around.

“Well, ah, it’s not a typical cigarette, I’m afraid… It’s, uh--”

“--I know. Trust me, it’s exactly what I need right now… I hate flying." She sits down next to him and places her hotel key in her purse. She holds out a hand of slender, tapered fingers that have never seen a day of manual labor. Her smile is still open and encouraging.

“Oh… Ah, I see now... Here you go.” He passes his joint to the woman. “You’ll have to excuse me. I’m a little out of sorts… It’s been a long night and a long morning.”

“I see you’re a little worse for wear right now. But,” she says, brushing a strand of hair from his eyes, “I can also see that you’ll clean up really nicely. What a handsome face...” She takes another hit of the joint and passes it back to Robert.

“Now, what have you been up to all night long?” She crosses her legs slowly, and the look on her face is stern.

Robert stares blankly. He opens his mouth to speak, and then closes it. “Uh…”

“Relax! I’m teasing you. Besides, I think I can imagine...”

Robert puffs a couple of times before passing back to her. He curses himself inside for being so tongue-tied. He’s not sure why he’s at such a loss for words, but he’s hoping the edge will wear away soon, so he can give the mystery woman the full effect of his charm. He knows that she is enjoying making him nervous, but he senses that she would prefer a little more flirtatious back and forth, even if it feels like he’s the last person who should have her on his arm.

She smokes some more. “But I must ask: Where did you get the money for this? It’s top quality.” Her expression relaxes noticeably as the high slowly makes itself known.

“Ah… A fan of Acapulco Gold, then? It just has a way of showing up for us at the concerts, you know? I mean, certainly we have our favorite friends with the best of herbs, but it’s everywhere, wherever we are. Nothing but the best.” He takes the joint back and smokes some more.

“Concert? We? Are you in a band? Must not be an American band, by your charming accent.”

“That’s right, it’s a British band. Led Zeppelin’s the name. We have 4 albums out now, came together in 1968. Maybe you’ve heard ‘Stairway to Heaven’ on the radio?”

“Well, I just listen to Motown, but Led Zeppelin… I think that name sounds familiar... I do know there are a lot of young rock bands, a lot of them from England, making a lot of noise… Free, sexy noise... A bunch of wild boys, stirring up all kinds of feelings with their guitars… What’s your name, dear?”

“Robert. Robert Plant. I’m the singer for Led Zeppelin. And I know my fair share of Motown.” He grins.

“Do you, really? Sing something for me?” She crosses her legs the other way and gazes up appreciatively when Robert stands. She could tell his legs were long when she first saw him, but she’s not prepared for him to be so tall. She realizes that he’s wearing boots with heels, but still.

“I might be a little rough right now… The concert was about three hours long, and I haven’t had a second of rest since then…”

“Three hours? That’s a lot of stamina, young man...” The joint dangles in her mouth while she takes this information in.

Robert can feel his manhood slowly waking up. “Bloody hell, you’ve got as much cheek as me… Uh, excuse my French, by way of West Bromwich…”

“I’m used to hearing all kinds of language, so it doesn’t bother me. And don’t let the Chanel fool you; I’m originally from Harlem. So, which song are you going to sing for me?” She inhales more of the weed.

“Hmm… City upbringing checks out, I think, because that’s very New York minute of you, the way you cut to the heart of the matter… OK, miss…?”

“Call me Josephine, Robert.” She looks him in his eyes, but the bulge in his pants that stands defiantly at the edge of her periphery keeps tempting her to shift her gaze.

“Right. Here goes…” He smiles and takes a deep breath.

“If I have to sleep on your doorstep all night and day

Just to keep you from walking away,

Let your friends laugh, even this I can stand,

'cause I wanna keep you any way I can.

Ain't too proud to beg and you know it,

Please don't leave me girl,

Don't you go,

Ain't too proud to plead, baby, baby,

Please don't leave me, Jo,

Don't you go.”

“You clever devil… Slipping my name in! Wow… Bravo, Robert. Where’d you get so much soul and passion from? Your voice is so rough one minute, and then so loving the next. I… I can’t tell you how much I love the way it sounds…”

“How about you show me, if you can’t tell me?” Robert sits back down, grabs the joint and then stubs it out and places it in his pocket. He gazes in Josephine’s eyes, and his wry smile means that he’s back on his game.

He’s not sure where this brazenness is coming from or, more accurately, he has mixed feelings about propositioning an older woman. He doesn’t think he’s misread her flirting, but being with her doesn’t seem as easy as it is with someone more his age. But he doesn’t have long to ponder it, because her face draws near and her lips connect with his.

She grabs his hair. He realizes that passion is the same, no matter the age or color of the person at the other end of the kiss. He cups her face and invites her tongue to dance with his in a sultry tango.

“Somebody’s hit his stride, and I like it! Would you like to continue with me in my room, Robert?”

“Yes. Yes, Mis-- erm, Josephine. I think we have a lot we could learn from each other.”

“I think so, too…" She stands up. "Say, give me 20 minutes or so and meet me at my room? It’s room 548.”

“548… I’ll be there.” His eyes sweep her body, and by the time his eyes search for hers, he realizes she’s also appraising his youthful, athletic frame.

“See you soon, Robert,” she says over her shoulder as she wheels her suitcase toward the hotel.

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

The rest of my stories are here, or search for the hashtag #brownskinsugarplumlibrary.

#classic rock #Robert plant #Led zeppelin #my writing #fan fic #fanfic #fan fiction #fanfiction #Fanfics #led zeppelin fanfics #led zeppelin fan fic #led zeppelin fanfic #led zeppelin fan fiction #robert plant fan fic #robert plant fanfic #robert plant fan fiction #writer #writers #writing #story #chapter story

[krixwell-liveblogs]

Worm asks

Have you tried to give D&D alignments to The Travelers yet, and if not how would you classify them?

Hmm.

Trickster: True neutral

Sundancer: Neutral good

Ballistic: Chaotic neutral

Genesis: ???

Noelle: Lawful? good

Oliver: Chaotic nerd

Gurer’f abguvat vaqvfchgnoyl njshy tbvat guebhtu, ohg V’q qrsvavgryl yvxr gb frr yrff uvagvat znxr vg guebhtu gur fperravat gb Xevk

Sharks: Fher guvat. V’ir orra ehaavat bss gur vqrn gung vs vg’f va gur sbezng bs na ubarfg dhrfgvba, va beqre gb nibvq nabgure Fpragyrff Zna vapvqrag, ohg V pna svarghar vg vs crbcyr jnag?

As usual, translate here.

While you’re checking out all the Simurgh fanart, you should listen to this theme someone made for her: (google Simurgh Husr, first result. Hopefully sharks can just replace this with the actual link) Same person who made that Leviathan theme linked way back.

https://soundcloud.com/user-371879520/simurgh

This was really nice. I like how it does sound like a good melody while at the same time exhibiting some of the pattern-defying nature of the tune. 🙂

I think you miiiight have jumped to conclusions from an ask that simply asked you if you could list the Traveler’s cape and civilian names. Miiight have. Also, I’m pretty sure most of them where refered to by their civilian names in previous arcs.

It’s certainly possible.

It’s not so much that I jumped to the conclusion as that the ask opened my eyes to the possibility of it, which I hadn’t considered before. From there, I had to reevaluate things and consider how things would change if it turned out I had gotten the two mixed up. Ultimately I think I’d prefer for Cody to be Ballistic, but I’m still not sure either way (even with this ask heavily implying it’s Luke).

As for names, most of their names did show up (all the more reason for an ask about matching names to capes being kind of odd if it wasn’t trying to set me thinking of something), but I can’t recall Ballistic’s being one of them. But you know how my memory can be.

That smurf song you posted definitely says “dab dab dab” several times, despite the video being uploaded to YouTube in 2009, and the song supposedly being from 1978. So that’s suspicious as hell.

I… think that has to be the bits where it actually says “tramp, tramp, tramp på en smurf” (“stomp, stomp, stomp on a smurf”).

Either way, now we’re all forced to consider the concept of the Smurfs dabbing, so thanks for that. 😛

“Dragonberry” was Scarfgirl’s old character on City of Heroes, a MMORPG with a superhero theme that no longer exists. I know you’re not reading the chapter comments, but if you ever go back to read the early ones, you’ll see that quite a lot of the early readers were City of Heroes players who had an interest in superhero fiction. That’s why Scarfgirl’s art is signed “Dragonberry”, because it’s how people knew her back then.

Ah, interesting. Fun to hear a little about the fandom’s early history. 🙂

I’ve had many names, myself. Once upon a time I used to make a different name, if not more, for just about every site I was on. One of the names that stuck with me the most was Elementarion, which I used in the game Godville and a few other places (not every Elementarion that comes up on Google now is me, though), because I found long-time friends while using that name.

Though for some reason I wonder why 😛, nobody seemed to want to type it out every time they wanted to mention me. I’ve been called almost every short form of Elementarion there is. El was the most common (made watching Stranger Things kinda odd the first time around, even though I’d long abandoned the name), but I’ve been called Ele, Elem, Eleme, Elemen, Element…

A couple other highlights I remember were Hiatus (in a browser game I don’t remember the name of), OldHeavens (NewGrounds) and Barbute (ArmorGames).

It wasn’t until I came up with Krix Jace, later Krixwell Jace, that I started stabilizing my name.

1. Do you think people ever submit misleading questions just to fuck with you?

Some, probably. And that might be a good thing — if there are some asks that deliberately imply things that are wrong, it makes it harder to trust accidental implications of things that are right.

2. Have you ever noticed that Danny and Eidolon have never been in a scene together?

Hmmmmmm 🤔

Still no Travelers interlude… do you still think you’ll get one, or has this dashed your hopes?

Ahaha

Yeah, no, I’m counting this as everything I asked for and more. 😛

Sharks:

http://www.nospoiler.com/y/WenCYI_Bn7I

Sent in by “ewerwqer”. “Simurgh Scream” by person257 Don’t… Open it with headphones on. Trust me. Don’t.

I’m scared.

*disconnects his headphones*

…not as bad as the description sounded, but yeah, probably a good idea to not use headphones. It’s a well put-together bit of mind noise, nice work. 🙂

Worm fanart

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By Winkle92

Oooh, there are more of these? Awesome! They’re all going in my backgrounds folder.

I love how Behemoth just kinda peeks around the corner of the image border. It’s okay, don’t be shy!

(Also I just discovered I can do slideshows. Neat.)

K6BD ask

My favorite part is the Master of Aesthetic saying “she is an idiot, and a loathsome schemer!” and YISUN is all “YEP, YOU GOT THAT ONE RIGHT 😀 😀 :D”. With Aesma standing right there.

YISUN is the type of person who has “precious trash babies” in every fandom they’re in. 😛

I feel like you all need to know, even if you don’t care about MLP:FiM, that the final episode of the show proved us all wrong.

The show’s resident Skitter is not Queen Chrysalis, the villainous, scheming ruler of a hive full of insect ponies.

Nor is it Twilight Sparkle, the mainest character and socially awkward brainiac who leads a team of five other main characters and always does her research if she can.

No, because of this one episode, it becomes clear:

It’s Rarity.

…

Okay, that’s just a joke, Twilight is still the best fit among the Mane Six, but Rarity using spiders for her fashion did immediately make me think of Taylor.

Twilight – Taylor

Applejack – Brian

Rainbow Dash – Rachel

Rarity – Lisa

Fluttershy – Alec??

Pinkie Pie – Aisha??

(Spike – Shatterbird??????)

K6BD patron comments

1. “What happened to Hansa” is addressed in the Prim story so that’s still out there if you want to know.

Ahh. That would explain why it was left unexplained in Aesma, aside from acting as a noodle incident if you haven’t read Prim.

2. As you observed, the word “demon” has appeared very rarely in the comic, outside of epic title drops & an instance where drunk Allison used it in place of “devil”. It’s used in some of the bonus texts but without a clear definition. Can you speculate further on what it might mean?

The priests seem to call Aesma a demon in the sense of a being of evil, but I don’t think that’s necessarily a definition that’s relevant to the comic’s title (and what appears to be Allison’s “name” in some sense, though the Demiurges do seem to have misinterpreted other parts of the prophecy and Zoss didn’t unambiguously use it as a name). It may be more about inner demons, Allison killing her fears, doubts and insecurities as she grows into the role of a king/queen of the cosmos. Six billion might be hyperbole, in that case, but still.

Alternatively, the prophecy and name might actually refer to Zaid, who could easily end up being the final villain of this thing even if he’s not actually Zoss’ intended successor. In that case, “six billion demons” might refer to humans, if Zaid gets really nasty with his own species. We know very little about Zaid’s base personality beyond “kinda sleazy boyfriend”, so a lot of developments are plausible on that front.

Though there are other parts of the prophecy, as well as illustrations, that do fairly clearly indicate Kill Six Billion Demons is Allison and will be flanked by White Chain and Ciocie, so it referring to Zaid is unlikely.

3. I think the author once said that there are still Aesma-worshippers active in Throne. What do you think they’re like and what would she think of them?

(Somehow the flesh sellars come to mind.)

Well, clearly they’d be Slytherins, if they understand her teachings. Aesma might treat them as ants, if she were still around, but bask in their adoration.

4. Kalpa — a Hindu / Buddhist concept meaning a really fucking long time. Besides in the story you just read, the term has also appeared in the comic at least once so far.

Good to know. I think I kind of just assumed it was Throne’s equivalent of a year, however long it might be.

5. Panopticon — a prison design envisioned by philospopher Jeremy Bentham, allowing all prisoners to be observed from a central point.

Makes sense. When I read it in Aesma’s story, the word’s construction was clear enough that I figured out what it was immediately, before I finished reading the sentence. It very clearly means a place from which to see everything.

6. Root — penis.

Yeah, I figured that one out. 😛

7. To offset the unfortunate scarcity of Cio in your life lately, here’s some of the old concept art:

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(The quantity of arms was somewhat uncertain.)

Oooh.

Her arms and legs look so spidery here. I suppose that might be why she was introduced with the Coat of Arms.

Can Skitter control her?

8. Not related to K6BD but Abaddon has also been working on a tabletop mecha RPG and here’s the very nice cover art:

Ooh, you’re right, this looks very nice. It kind of gives me a K6BD x Steven Universe x Star Wars vibe. And a little bit of RWBY with that one guy that reminds me of Tyrian. I can definitely see the resemblance between this an K6BD in terms of character design style, despite the genre shift.

I particularly like the blonde in the lower left.

In the interest of transparency, I should also mention that the patron has said he probably won’t sponsor full liveblogs of any of the other bonus texts, but has sent me a few recommendations and links to some of the ones I’ve passed (besides Prim). I might read some of those on my own time, though, especially the second Aesma story. If I do, I will of course let you know and discuss any particularly notable observations.

Between: PB7

[smilesthroughfandoms]

Every Single Star vs. the Forces of Evil episode in one sentence or less

I’ll probably post a more in depth-review later this week, as I have opinions literally no one wants to hear but I will proclaim anyway, and then I’ll probably also due a revision of my ‘Past Queens Connection to Star’ post from way back in season 2. Cause that needs an update.

Anyway, enjoy!

Star Comes to Earth: Princess Cinnamon Roll that Could Kill you comes to earth and meets Misunderstood Safe Kid.

Party With a Pony: Spoopy Wardens hunt for the glitter pony while Star gets ice for Marco’s sweaty back.

Matchmaker: In which we learn it was probably a bad idea to give Star the wand in the first place.

School Spirit: Star misunderstands football and Marco tries to get Ferguson to blow his whistle not in that way.

Monster Arm: “Not my bowels! I love my bowels!”

The Other Exchange Student: Star is jealous of the meatball man from Bakersfieldville.

Cheer Up Star: “It’s supposed to be ironic!”

Quest Buy: Very accurate depiction of what it is like to work in retail.

Diaz Family Vacation: Both Marco and Star see new sides of their dads but that’s not necessarily a good thing

Brittney’s Party: Star and Marco party on a bus that Ludo hijacks

Mewberty: Star gets horny and snares boys in her web but not in that way

Pixtopia: Marco messed up and Alfonso marries Ferguson’s rebound

Lobster Claws: “… You can’t eat children.” “Really? Not even the annoying ones?”

Sleep Spell: “Camera Phooone!”

Blood Moon Ball: We’re suppose to ship them now, right?

Fortune Cookies: Love is never the answer kids

Freeze Day: Father Time offers Star and Marco some mud before riding away on his wheel-mobile pulled by giant time-hamsters I am not making this up.

Royal Pain: King Santa Claus destroy mini-golf

St. Olga’s Reform School for Wayward Princesses: Princess Prison sure is a nightma–OH MY GOD ARE THOSE CLUBS?!

Mewnipendence Day: No wonder monsters hate Mewmans so much.

The Banagic Wand: Star still doesn’t get Earth and like all of us, Marco is always hungry.

Interdemensional Field Trip: Miss Skullnick fears the “Big Change” while Marco sends Jackie cat memes

Marco Grows a Beard: Ludo is out, Toffee is in, and Marco will probbaly be terrified of beards forever

Storm the Castle: “SURPRISE!”

My New Wand!: DIP DOOOWN

Ludo in the Wild: Wait, since when did Ludo become badass?

Mr. Candle Cares: “Star and I have recently become smooch buddies… On the lips.”

Red Belt: Marco searches for a meaning in life and Star searches for hammer.

Star on Wheels: *epic remix of Marco saying Star is in trouble*

Fetch: Marco can’t open juice and Star runs away from her problems and sending thank you cards

Star vs. Echo Creek: Star gets high and destroys a police car

Wand to Wand: Both Ludo and Star are terrible at magic also major ship tease

Starstruck: Star and her idol Sailor Super Saiyan destroy a park and Marco is 100002% done with this shit

Camping Trip: King Butterfly has a mid-life crisis and tries to control an eagle

Starsitting: They’re gonna be great parents some day.

On the Job: Buff Dad is best dad and buff babies are adorable

Goblin Dogs: “You might think this line is long, but listen to my goblin song!~”

By the Book: Ludo and Star still suck at magic and Glossaryck is a bigger troll than Alex Hirsch

Game of Flags: And I thought my family was dysfunctional...

Girls’ Day Out: Janna is back and is still awesome btw

Sleepover: “TRUTH! STAR HAS A CRUSH ON MA–” *cue fandom freakout*

Gift of the Card: R.I.P.  Rasticore Chaosus Disastorvayne… He couldn’ get his fucking chainsaw to work

Friendenemies: Star becomes one with Christmas tree while Tom and Marco go on a date and sing a romantic pop ballad.

Is Mystery: Meatfork is apparently a family name and Ludo is really starting to freak me out tbh

Hungry Larry: “He’s still hungry…”

Spider with a Top Hat: He tries and he is awesome and that’s all that matters

Into the Wand: SPAAAAADESS!!!

Pizza Thing: Marco is OCD about mushroom and Pony Head buys skinny jeans

Page Turner: Moon, how did you miss Toffee in the orb he was right there!

Naysaya: Marco is a mood in this episode

Bon Bon the Birthday Clown: Honestly my favorite episode overall

Raid the Cave: Glossaryck is the true neutral asshole.

Trickstar: Weird Al is a treasure and I’ll mes up anyone who makes Marco cry!

Baby: Aw, look at the little deadly baby, I love her!

Running With Scissors: Marco gets a new edition to his shipping harem and she is so cute!

Mathmagic: Why did the chicken cross the road?

The Bounce Lounge: Marco is definitely the mom friend.

Crystal Clear: The Chancellor guy is amazing and Rhombulus just needs a hug and wAS THAT ECLIPSA IN THE BACKGROUND?

The Hard Way: “SURPRISE!” 2.0

Heinous: Oh, so that’s how Marco got all that money.

All Belts Are Off: This is the negative side of “Pro-tag teen hangs out with older adult figure” trope done splendidly

Collateral Damage: Marco how do you not know what a possum is?

Just Friends: I’m fine! *blows up sign to prove just how fine I am*

Face the Music: This song is actually a banger

Star Crushed: Looking back, I’m starting to think the writing peaked at this episode....

BATTLE FOR MEWNI EDITION!!!!!

Return to Mewni: This is… just an exposition filler. Not much else to say….

Moon the Undaunted: B4! B4! B4 B4 B4 B4 B4 B4 B4 B4 B4 B4!

Book Be Gone: Seriously, did Glossy take trolling lessons from Alex Hirsch this is hilarious!

Marco and the King: This is the  “Pro-tag teen hangs out with older adult figure” done slightly better

Puddle Defender: Aw, look at the little buff babies, they’re getting so big!

King Ludo: The mime stole the show.

Toffee: Yeah, I think the writing peaked somewhere around here...

Scent of Hoodie: Huh, so Ponyhead can be written as likeable, who would’ve thought?

Rest in Pudding: The colors are not doing the censors any favor here, huh?

Club Snubbed: I literally yelled “Phrasing!” whenever they dropped the title

Stranger Danger: Is she the new antagonist of the series? I can’t tell

Demoncism: Tom is a wonderful baby boy and Ponyhead is written as likeable, part 2!

Sophmore Slump: *sobbing* Jackie deserved better, dang it!

Lint Catcher: I’m starting to wonder if there is any competant authority figure in Mewni

Trial by Squire: I think the writers were all like” You think these guys will ship anyone with Marco?” and decided to test that theory.

Princess Turdina: I got more lore out of this episode than I thought I would.

Starfari: Welp, she makes me uncomfortable.

Sweet Dreams: *Sailor Moon-ing intensifies*

Lava Lake Beack: Proof that this fandom will ship anyone with Marco at the slightest inclanation

Death Peck: Rich Pigeon is my new favorite birb and Ponyhead is written as likeable for the third time

Ponymonium: Well, it was nice while it lasted.

Night Life: The writers made so many new ships they had to get rid of an old one!

Deep Dive: “Chicken butt”

Monster Bash: Well, that explains the cheekmarks.

Stump Day: I think they just made an episode based around a picture from that bookcover.

Holiday Special: *insert every cheesy Christmas/Holiday episode trope here*

The Bog Beast of Boggabah: The title is fun to say and the episode is average at best.

Total Eclipsa the Moon: Seriously, I’m supposed to think she’s an ultimate villain.

Butterfly Trap: In which we are all Sean, don’t lie we were all him at the end

Ludo, Where Art Thou?: Dennis is best brother, hands down.

Is Another Mystery: *sniff* I got more emotional over this episode than anyone else did and I’m not sure how I feel about that

Marco Jr.: I… I just… Why? What’s the point?

Skooled!: Epic advertisment fakeout combined with wonderful character development and lore with a shock ending makes a 8/10 episode.

Booth Buddies: Old Man McGucket ships Starco, proceed to react accordingly

Bam Ui Pati!: Ponyhead is kinda likeable in this episod–nevermind she’s back.

Tough Love: Oh man, it’s happening! It’s happening guys here we go!

Divide: We are going to war everybody–And they’re all dead. That was quick.

Conquer: They should have paid Alex HIrsch to voice Glossaryck at this point, it’d be more in character for him.

Butterfly Follies: Proof that someone will always complain about politics no matter what.

Escape from the Pie Folk: Is anyone else disturbed by the fact that he kinda resembles Eclipsa more than Festivia?

Moon Remembers: I was expecting a freakout but was pleasantly surprised

Swim Suit: I’m starting to get a bad feeling about Rhombulus

Ransomgram: Why is everyone in this dimesnion hot?!

Lake House Fever: She’s a good mom

Yada Yada Berries: They missed an opportunity to have a Seinfeld actor guest-star, just saying

Down by the River: I’m glad that she can relax

The Ponyhead Show!: And Ponyhead is offically no longer likeable, can someone toss her into an abyss please?

Surviving the Spiderbites: SpiderSlime is canon proceed to react accordingly

Out of Buisness: How did this place go out of buisness???

Kelly's World: Man, they’re really setting these non-Starco ships up to fail, huh?

Curse of the Blood Moon: Pfft, yeah, sure, Starco won’t be canon at all!

Princess Quasar Caterpillar and the Magic Bell: I think Ludo has the most consistent character arc out of the entire show’s history.

Ghost of Butterfly Castle: Moon, Star is your daughter and Star supports Eclipsa, why would you not tell her?

Cornball: This episode has a heartwarming lesson that I hope more people come to realize

Meteora's Lesson: I’ll take any Toffee scenes I can get

The Knight Shift: I honestly don’t remember what happened n this episode

Queen-Napped: Seriously, can someone please dropkick Ponyhead into an abyss?

Junkin' Janna: The JanTom interaction I’ve been waiting for

A Spell with No Name: These types of episodes stopped being charming awhile ago

A Boy and His DC-700XE: I think Tomco has more ground to stand-on then Starco at this point

The Monster and The Queen: Don Panchito voices Globgor! There’s hope for this show yet!

Cornonation: They’re the best couple/parents/anything around!

Doop-Doop: I honestly think Rick just put Morty through some flux-capacitor or something

Britta's Tacos: Hey, remember these people that we suddenly brought back? No? Me neither!

Beach Day: This feels like a Season 1 episode and it’s nice

Gone Baby Gone: I want a TV show aout them now! Disney, please!

Sad Teen Hotline: Mr. Diaz is way to invested in Star’s love life.

Jannanigans: Hello last minute Janna character development!

Mama Star: So that’s how Mewni came to be--and I don’t care anymore

Ready, Aim, Fire!: Let’s get that finale ball rolling people!

The Right Way: Ok, that spell is actually pretty badass.

Here to Help: There, Starco’s finally canon will you guys just shut up now!

Pizza Party: Moon you idiot you ruined everything!

The Tavern at the End of the Multiverse: Toffee was right all along... I think we all knew that in some way

Cleaved: I expect nothing substanial and that’s what I got

#star vs the forces of evil #svtfoe #svtfoe2 #svtfoe3 #svtfoe4 #battle for mewni #smilesthroughfandoms #Don't repost without my permission #seriously don't #these are my opinions #scary i know

[macandlacy]

“His Baby” updates!

Chapter 5: Bedtime RoutineSummary:

Summary:  From a prompt by HCShannon: Stuff like putting him to bed, swaddling him in blankets, then reading him a story.

John liked routine, and had had a self-imposed bedtime since he was a youngster. He adjusted it a little as he got older, but not by a lot. Really the only exceptions were gigs that ran late or the occasional study sessions. But he was good about budgeting his time, and except for a performance, he was rarely up past his bedtime.

Especially with Freddie around.

The singer had two modes and schedules when it came to John’s bedtime- at home, and on tour. When at home, it was pretty easy to keep John on his schedule; recording sessions simply ended when it was time to head home so John would have time to properly unwind and relax. His usual bedtime was around 11:00, depending on the schedule for the next day.

But when on tour, it was a lot more difficult. The more successful Queen became, the longer the after parties tended to go. Sometimes the show wasn’t even done until after 10:00, and then the party was going strong until the wee hours of the night. It could take hours for John to settle down after a good show.

So Freddie learned to play it largely by ear, although he always aimed for around 1:00 am when they had another show the next day. Midnight would be better, he fretted, but it was seldom realistic. The best Freddie could do was insist that parties were always at their hotel, so all he had to do was get John tucked in bed upstairs, and then he could easily return to the festivities. Clubbing was reserved for nights when they didn’t have a show the following day and John was allowed to stay up later.

People often wondered where Freddie had disappeared to, and Brian and Roger would just shrug. It was usually assumed that he had gone off with someone, and truth was, he had. It was just he had gone with John, and not a party person.

“I’m not tired,” John fussed.

“Yes, you are,” Freddie said. He started running a bath and made sure to add John’s favorite bubbles and bath salts. They’d all had showers just a few hours earlier at the venue, but Freddie knew a bath would settle John the quickest. He heard the tinkling of the mini-fridge and frowned.

“John, no more drinking,” he said firmly, going out the living room area. Sure enough, John was just about the pull the tab on a can of beer.

“One more?” John pleaded, using his puppy eyes. Fortunately, Freddie was immune to puppy eyes.

“Decaf tea,” Freddie said sternly. He started the kettle and picked out a chamomile blend. John huffed, but accepted the cup when it was ready and stomped off to the bathroom.

“Wash behind your ears,” Freddie called. John muttered something in return, waving his hand.

Freddie got the bedroom ready for his son, making sure the temp was set to how John liked it and fluffing the pillows. They were sharing a two bedroom suite, Freddie’s favorite set up when on tour as it enabled him to keep on eye on his boy, and he was nearby if John had a nightmare. The fact that John seldom had nightmares didn’t matter to the singer; he needed to be close just in case.

John emerged from the bath dressed in his favorite Disney pajamas and Freddie barely resisted the urge to take a photo; Deaky was just too cute for words. Of course it was also pretty funny to see John in a Disney shirt and his mouse ears, chugging a beer. Freddie allowed John to drink only on special occasions and finding a new Disney shirt had been rated a suitable event.

“Did you take your vitamins and medicine?”

“Yes, Freddie.”

“Good, good.”

Freddie tucked John into bed, fussing to find a channel on the television that would give some noise but not be annoying. Anything violent was of course not allowed, and the news could be distressing. Freddie finally found a nature documentary that looked suitably boring and adjusted the volume so it was just enough for some slight background noise. John was already yawning, pleasantly relaxed after his bath and having drank just enough to be sleepy without being drunk. “Alright dear boy, I will be back soon. Just call to the front desk if you need anything.”

“I’m fine,” John protested mildly.

“Of course you are,” Freddie murmured reassuringly. He continued to tuck the sheets and blankets firmly under the mattress until John was practically pinned to the bed, swaddled securely. “Do you want a story?”

“No,” John wrinkled his nose. “The television is fine.”

“Alright.” Freddie kissed his forehead. “Glass of water is on the nightstand. The light is on in the bathroom. I’ll leave the door to my bedroom open. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Freddie.”

John waited a few minutes to make sure Freddie was gone, and then started the struggle to get free. Tonight wasn’t too bad; some nights John swore that Freddie had tied him to the bed. He managed to get his arms free and from there it was easy.

John fetched his beer from the mini frig, and flipped through the channels until he came to the pay-for-view section. Umm…..”Hot Tub University: Bikini’s gone wild.” Sounded interesting.

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Chapter 6: BreakdownSummary:

Summary: John didn’t ask for much. Just one little thing after a horrible day. And when he’s not happy, Papa isn’t happy….

"John Richard Deacon Mercury, unlock the door this instant, young man!" His full name. John was in serious trouble.

Notes:

From a prompt by Bella: Maybe John throwing a tantrum?? Or getting super overwhelmed???

Chapter Text

John handed his autism well. He knew what bothered him, and worked hard to avoid it. Of course, in the career he had found himself in, it was hard to avoid stress and noise was 100% part of the deal. But he could usually block things out when Freddie, Brian, and Roger were having an epic argument (he knew they wouldn’t actually hurt each other). He could block out the chaos from a typical sound check. Audiences screaming were part of the deal, and once he got over his stage fright, he was able to concentrate on the music and truthfully didn’t usually even notice a crowd until the show was over.

And all the other things as well, he could usually tolerate. Reporters yelling questions, cameras in his face, a different hotel nearly every night. Freddie, Brian, and Roger shielded him as much as they could, and John did his breathing exercises and usually all was well.

Usually.

The problem was when everything happened at once, or everything that could go wrong did go wrong. Sometimes, there was a simple straw that broke the bassist’s back.

And Hell hath no fury like Mama Bear Freddie, backed up by Big Brothers Brian and Roger.

The plane had been delayed, making them have to go directly to the auditorium for sound check. John hated flying to begin with, and it was worse when they had sat on the plane for an hour, unable to disembark because of a back log at the gate. Then it was the Sound Check from Hell, with everything possible going wrong. John could have done a better job with the electronics when he was eight, and none of the venue staff would listen to him or let him try to fix it.

They were supposed to have dinner at the hotel and John had been looking forward to the time to relax, but they had to stay at the venue because everything was running late. The last-minute caterer had done a very good job, but there wasn’t a toaster or slices of cheese in sight, so no cheese on toast tonight.

He had really wanted cheese on toast. He hadn’t had it in *days*. At the hotels, they always seemed to have toast available from room service, but at the venue, it was plain white fluffy bread. The caterer had vegetarian for Brian, roasted meat for Roger, and some spicy curry for Freddie that made John’s stomach hurt just to look at it. But no toast or cheese.

What the Hell?

Maybe he could write a song about it. *oooh, you make me live. You’re my best friend; cheese on toast* Or maybe *can anybody find meeee….soooooome, some cheese on toast….*

Okay, he recognized the signs when he was obsessing. Didn’t make it any easier.

He got through the concert well enough despite the new lights and pyrotechnics, which he didn’t really like, visions of cheese on toast dancing in his head and keeping him steady. They were playing the same venue the next night, so the plan was to go back to the hotel and sleep in. John was confident he could score cheese on toast at some point, maybe even at the after party (it wouldn’t be the oddest thing Queen had asked room service or the hotel concierge for, after all).

But no, it all had to go to Hell. The after party was a disaster. Hotel in process of renovations and nothing working. Someone (John was pretty sure it was Ratty) had told the hotel as a joke that Queen had become Vegan non-drinkers, and the only thing at the tables was water and raw veggies (even Brian was bitching about the lack of alcohol and protein).

And John became overwhelmed.

He didn’t want to cause a scene. So he locked himself in a bathroom off the ballroom where the party was being held.

“John?” Freddie was knocking on the door during within minutes, always keeping an eye on John during parties. “What is wrong, darling?”

“Go away!” John wasn’t in the mood to deal with anything. He had his hands over his ears and was sitting on the floor, rocking.

“John, open the door this instant. We’ve talked about this before, young man. We don’t lock doors.”

That was true, a rule that Freddie had made the day John moved in with the band. Roger was the only one who was allowed a locked door, and only when he had someone for the night because Freddie was afraid of John being traumatized by what he might see. Freddie said it was a safety issue; he want to be able to reach John at all times, especially when he was having difficulty.

“I don’t want anyone to see anyone!” John yelled. He knew logically he was in a loop now that was just getting worse and worse, but he couldn’t help it. Locking himself away was just making the scene bigger and bigger.

There was a murmur of voices. “John!” Roger yelled. Oh great, John thought, now his brothers could be witness to his humiliation. “I swear I will break down this door. Unlock it now.”

“I don’t want anyone to see me!”

“Darling, they won’t if you unlock the door now. We’ll all go upstairs together. Unlock. This. Door. Now!”

John just rocked more, and kicked the wall. “No!”

“John Richard Deacon Mercury,” Freddie said firmly, and Oh, Shit. John knew he was in trouble when it was his full name. Well, not really his full name…it was even worse. “I am going to count to 5, and the door better be unlocked by then, young man. One!”

Tears were welling up now. “It’s stupid,” John tried. He was embarrassed now. “I’ll be fine. Just let me be.”

“Dear, nothing is stupid if its effecting you. Talk to us. Two!”

“I just wanted…..” he stopped, unable to continue.

“What do you need, darling? But I am not stopping the count. If I get to five, Roger is going to break down the door. Three!”

Shit, he was doomed.

“Four!”

John kicked the door, and then reach up to unlock it.

Freddie shoved his way in, and thank God, shut the door behind him so no one else could see John’s humiliation. A grown man, sitting on the floor of a bathroom, crying because he didn’t have cheese on toast.

“Darling, what is wrong?” Freddie was all mother hen mode now, clearly brooding as he gathered John into his arms. “I know its been a stressful day, dear. Is that what’s upset you? You know you can tell any of us if things get to be too much for you at any time.”

“I was alright,” John sniffed. “But—” he trailed off again.

“What, dear? Tell me.” Freddie had a hand on John’s chin, making the younger man look at him.

“I wanted….cheese on toast,” John confessed.

Freddie, Bless him, didn’t even blink. “Well of course,” he said calmly. “It’s your favorite food. They didn’t have it at the venue?”

“No,” John felt like he was whining, but Freddie was listening intently. “Not there and not here, either.”

“Fuck!” Contrary to popular belief, Freddie did listen to some of Brian’s speeches about vegetarianism, and understanding dawned. “No cheese – milk, and no bread - eggs.”

John nodded. “No toaster even if there was,” he added. “And, and…noise. And crowds. And the new sound and lights.” He didn’t need to elaborate. Freddie was finely attuned to what could affect John.

“Those bastards,” Freddie snared. He gathered John in a fierce hug. “Don’t worry. We will get you set up right away. Let’s go upstairs where its nice and quiet and dark, and you can take a nice bath and eat. In fact, let’s get Brian and Roger for a sleep over? Does that sound nice?”

“I just want cheese on toast,” John said in a small voice.

“And you shall have it!” Freddie stood, pulling John up with him. He opened the door, and thankfully it was only Roger and Brian who were present.

“We are all going upstairs,” Freddie said firmly. “Fuck this dead party. We are going to have a movie night and order in cheese on toast. And if the hotel doesn’t have it, send I am sending Ratty to Hell *after* he finds a market and makes cheese on toast.”

“Sounds good to me,” Brian immediately said. They all knew about John’s possible triggers and how he needed the comfort of familiarity.

“Yeah, its been a pisser of a day,” Roger agreed. “I mean, the Hell? Vegan non-drinkers? What the Fuck? Brian, are you *sure* you didn’t say something?”

“Screw you, Rog. You know I would never say non-drinker. And whoever thought Vegan means only raw veggies is stupid. Mammals can’t survive without some type of protein, and that’s a fact.”

Forty minutes later, John was in bed, calmed by a lavender bath, and clad in his favorite pajamas. Brian and Roger, now in their own pajamas, had gathered the contents of all their stocked mini-bars (including Ratty’s), and were mixing drinks while Freddie answered the door for room service in one of his elegant robes. He had screamed on the phone for five minutes about the Vital Importance of Cheese on Toast, and given strict instructions on how to prepare it. He had threatened to come down to the kitchens to make it himself it he wasn’t satisfied with what was delivered.

Then he called rooms and screamed at members of their crew, making damn sure they all ensured in the future that cheese on toast was 100% available at all times.

And booze.

He also threatened Ratty in vivid detail about what would happen if he ever again messed with the availability of cheese on toast. And booze. In fact, Ratty was now officially in charge of providing cheese on toast at the snap of Freddie’s fingers, and Ratty was truly terrified at the threats that made been made. He went back to his room to write a formal apology to John, and may or may not have found a church to pray in for forgiveness and asked a priest for penance.

Freddie had, of course, made sure that John was in the bathtub with the door closed and water running so he couldn’t hear the threats he had made. He was rather strict about foul language used in front of his son.

Thank God, room service rose to the occasion and provided booze, real food, and yes, Cheese On Toast.

Freddie fixed John a plate and handed it over to the young man, who eagerly accepted it. Everyone settled on the bed and they turned on a movie. John didn’t care what it was and he suspected that no one did. What was important was that they were together.

“We are going to have another talk tomorrow about locked doors, young man,” Freddie said sternly as he wiped John’s hands.

“Yes, Freddie,” John said meekly.

“And you are grounded for the rest of the week. Not because you were upset, darling; that happens, and its fine. Never apologize when you need space and quiet. But you knew not to lock the door. I’m not mad; I’m disappointed.”

“I’m sorry, Freddie.”

He felt bad about having a break down over food, but thankfully his family still accepted him. John still wanted to write a song.

*another toast bites the dust. And another one’s gone, and another one’s gone. Hey! I’m gonna get me some…cheese on toast!”

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Chapter 7:  Zooday

Summary:  From a prompt by mtnsam: Maybe you can do one where they take him to Disney or a zoo? :D

John generally did not like crowds. Ironic, he knew, given his profession. But crowds at concerts didn’t bother him too much. He knew he was protected on stage by his band mates and their crew and the crowd couldn’t actually get to him. (Actually, his most reoccurring nightmare was him falling off the stage into a crowd. Freddie could always tell when he’d had that nightmare and would get him some warm milk and sing until he managed to go back to sleep).

Where John really hated crowds was in public places. Stores, restaurants, overcrowded clubs, etc…. There was a reason he ordered a lot of room service on tour and was pretty choosy about what clubs he would remain at. Crowds were just too overwhelming. So much chaos. So much talking. But he was usually okay.

He was also a fully functioning, highly capable adult. Freddie thought he was about 13, but John knew he meant no harm in it, and John was usually content to let Freddie have his harmless delusion. It was annoying, to be sure, but there were lots of benefits such as sweets and not having to worry about picking out clothes. It was easier to just let Freddie lay out clothing for events and all John had to be concerned with was casual day wear.

And even though John didn’t like crowds, he had a few exceptions, and there were times when his tolerance of a crowd was made even better when Freddie had woken up convinced that John needed a fun trip.

Like when Freddie decided to take John to the zoo.

“John, darling, I have a surprise for you!” Freddie cheered one morning at breakfast. “There is a new mammal habitat at the zoo and we are going today!”

“Wow, that’s great,” John said happily. He loved going to the zoo and seeing all the amazing animals.

“Now, eat a big breakfast, because I am not letting you fill up on too many sweets,” Freddie warned, putting a plate of toast and oatmeal in front of his son. “We can get a treat at the end.”

An hour later, after Freddie had packed a bag with sunscreen and made sure John had a hat, they headed off to the London zoo. John was more than willing to put up with crowds there in order to see the animals.

“Remember,” Freddie said, going over the rules when on outings as they rode in the taxi. “You stay with me, don’t wander away.”

“I know Freddie.”

“If you get lost, find a zoo worker – they all have uniforms and name badges – and we meet at the nearest security station.”

“Okay.”

“Drink a lot of water; it’s very humid.”

“I will.”

“Do you have our phone number memorized if you get lost and security asks you?”

John tilted his head a bit. “Do *you*?”

Freddie shook a finger in mild amusement. “No back talk. Do you know our phone number?”

“Yes, Freddie, I promise.”

“You don’t go anywhere with strangers, *especially* if they have candy.”

“I remember our talks about stranger danger, Freddie.” Really, John was about to toss Freddie out of the cab and go to the zoo himself, but he knew it would hurt the singer’s feelings and he would never do that.

They lined up for tickets at the automatic tellers, and John rolled his eyes when Freddie purchased one adult and one teen. While Freddie was distracted, John discreetly and quickly purchased another adult ticket, ready to slip it into the gate attendants’ hand. He dealt with this quite a lot, and had gotten rather good at secretly buying the proper adult ticket.

It didn’t hurt to allow Freddie his little delusions.

They toured the new exhibit and had lunch at a picnic area, Freddie fussing and making sure John had more sunscreen applied to his face. Freddie also bought John another stuffy, and John just smiled, happily carrying the large stuffed tiger. They mutually decided to name him Simba.

After lunch, they ended up at the best part of all; the petting zoo. John was glad he and Freddie weren’t the only adults in the area without kids. There was nothing wrong in childless adults wanting to pet the animals too.

John looked over at Freddie, who was talking nonsense to a baby llama. Ummm…..maybe he did have a child.

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Chapter 8: My Best Friend

Summary:  From a prompt by Wiggles91: How about when Autistic John wrote his first song about his wife Veronica "You're my best friend." And he is very scared to show it to his wife and to the boys because he thinks it's not good enough. So the boys bring Veronica to Rockfield Studios to help him with the song with encouragement from Freddie.

John had never considered himself a ‘songwriter’. He freely admitted he was sort of an accidental up and coming rock star. Had he set out to be a star like Freddie or Roger? Nope. Had he been determined to be a song poet and performer like Brian? Not at all. He had quite frankly auditioned for Queen because his father liked music and John’s therapist had insisted that he try to get out more.

And look where it had landed him.

In a very powerful up and coming band. With records released and more on the horizon. John just wanted cheese on toast and to play music, and yeah, he wanted Veronica. So sue him. He may be autistic, but he knew a lady when he saw one, and Veronica was all that and smart, and talented, and beautiful and just simply amazing.

And he was just plain John.

Veronica was SO out of his league. As was Queen. John kept thinking that everyone would wake up one day and realize it. But no.

Brian and Roger went out of their way to make John feel comfortable and part of the band. Every tiny bit he contributed was welcomed and applauded.

Veronica was simply….amazing. John honestly could not find words to describe what she meant to him. And this was from someone who thought he would never be loved, and really, truly, had not set out to find it. He was convinced that love was a nice feeling, but not one for him. Sure, someone people had had true love, and John respected and admired that. But it surely wasn’t for him. He wasn’t sure he would even *know* was love was.

And then he had met Veronica. At a disco, of all places.

And Freddie, the other most important person in his life after his Mum, sister, and Veronica, had done nothing but endorse Veronica. John had no choice but to put his worries aside, and trust in his Dad….er….he meant, Freddie.

And that had been a huge source of John’s nerves. He kept telling Veronica that he was different, and she just kept on smiling. Okay, she was training to be a teacher, and John figured that she had to put on that smile. But after a while he really began to suspect that she truly did understand, and did not judge him for it.

When he had to do certain routines to be comfortable, she just nodded, and even *helped* him. When he didn’t know what to do in a social situation, she was beside him, always smiling and gently helping him, acting as if his nerves were perfectly normal, and politely, sweetly, deadly, daring anyone to say otherwise.

If Freddie was his would-be-Dad, then Veronica was his would-be-Mum….but in a good sense. Not kinky or weird. It was really like his….wife….John finally realized.

Thank goodness he had the presence of mind to say Yes when she proposed to him.

Freddie for once was totally silent on the subject- just beaming with pride - but for the rest of his life, John suspected that Veronica had gone to Freddie and asked permission for his hand in marriage.

John didn’t lie…..he felt quite flattered and more than a bit woozy at the notion.

And the fact that Freddie always referred to John and Veronica’s children as his ‘Pautrō’ made John smile. He guessed they really were. Lord knew they would not have been born without Freddie’s encouragement. John would have been the virgin-in-a-rock-band if it wasn’t for Freddie giving him a pep talk and then shoving him in Veronica’s direction.

And Veronica. She was a wise, wise, woman of wisdom. Never underestimate her. John didn’t. He learned to just say “yes, dear,” and do as she said. It made life much simpler and happier. She was never wrong when it came to them. Thank God he could rely on her.

What was that saying? You could pick your friends, but not your family? In his down moments, John guessed that his band mates had to put up with him since they were family. But Veronica?

She *let* him sleep with her. On a number of occasions. Touch her inappropriately.

John was truly grateful.

And he was grateful when she showed up at Rockfield studio with a big smile and all her gentle strength.

“Play them your song,” she said gently.

“What? No!” he protested. It was crap, truly. He had just been messing around with notes and words. It wasn’t a *song*.

“Darling,” Freddie said, “Veronica already shared some of it with me. You simply MUST play it now.”

John shot Veronica a dark look, and she just smiled as usual. Okay, it was the sign that John was being ridiculous and he needed to go along with whatever she wanted.

“It’s dumb,” John muttered. “I mean the words, but it’s…..silly.” He wasn’t romantic. He didn’t know how to say things in actual conversations, let alone in a song. And now Brian, the lyrics specialist was smiling at him, and Roger, who could put words together almost as well as Brian was grinning in encouragement.

John frowned a little at Veronica….had she told the band? She smiled, and he sighed, knowing she had. Well, she did know best.

He went over to the piano and nervously ran his hands over the keys, trying to warm up. “I wanted to write a song for Veronica,” he mumbled. “But you know I’m dreadful with words. This is all I could come up with.” He cleared his throat, and reluctantly started to play.

Ohh, you make me live…You’re my best friend…

When he was done, Brian pulled him up into a hug before John could start making excuses about how bad a song it was. Then Roger was hugging him as well, and Freddie pulled Veronica into the group.

“Perfect!” Freddie was saying over and over. “It’s perfect!”

“John, you’re secret has been uncovered. We need more of your songs!” Brian said happily.

“I’m about ready to cry,” Roger joked, but by his smile and hug, John knew Roger was also pretty serious. “I can’t wait to play it.”

And Veronica just smiled, proud of her husband. She had known all along that he could do it. He just needed support and encouragement.

And his family would always make sure he had that.

***** Pautrō – Grandchildren

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Chapter 9: I remember it all

Summary: From a prompt by Bella: John has Highly Superior Autobiographical Memory (HSAM). Yes, it’s a real thing where he remembers *everything*. Yes, it can be a pain.

John was not consciously aware of it, but he had a video camera in his head. All he knew was that he had an excellent memory. He had used to think that everyone did, but around starting secondary school he had realized he was different in more ways than one. If it happened to him, he could remember it. He could recall with perfect clarity almost every single day of his life. What he wore, what he ate that day, what he did. Recall verbatim what he said and what people said to him. Ask him about the local weather on Saturday, the 14th of August 1965, and he could tell you.

He tried to keep it quiet and for the most part succeeded. He didn’t brag about it, of course, and tried to stay silent even when someone was very wrong about what they were claiming and John knew it. It did actually came in handy at times, such as when his mum asked what they had served for tea or dinner when the family last came over, or what presents had been given at the holidays five years ago. And obviously his memory helped with school work. He figured it was a photographic memory, and just let it go. Whatever it was, it seemed to work.

The first time Queen was aware of it was when Freddie was fussing about what to wear for their next performance a few months after John had joined the band.

“Did I wear the black or the brown shirt last week?” Freddie screamed frantically. God forbid he wear the same outfit two weeks in a row.

“Black,” Brian said.

“Brown?” Roger guessed.

“Are you sure?” Freddie was going nuts.

John sighed and looked up from his bass. “You wore both,” he said calmly. “The black shirt at the start, and then changed into the brown shirt during the break. With the silver scarf and black boots.”

All three were looking at him, and John nervously looked back down at his guitar. “He’s right,” Freddie finally said. “I sort of remember now.” He beamed and hugged John. “Thank you, darling. You are in now in charge of my wardrobe.”

Bit by bit, the band began to realize just how much John could remember. Brian conducted a test on him, quizzing him about weather, and John was never wrong. Brian quickly determined that John could only remember things that he had done, said, saw or did.

“It has to be personal to you,” Brian mussed on a long drive. “Something that you saw, or heard, or did. Like how you can remember the Scrabble score of a game that you played, but not one that you didn’t play or see. It’s an…..autobiographical memory.”

“So Roger is not the only one who is self-centered,” Freddie teased. Roger easily flipped him the bird from the driver’s seat.

“It’s a pain,” John said shyly. “I keep worrying that my brain will get full, or something.”

“Even the most intelligent person only uses an estimated 10-20% of their brain,” Brian mussed. “Even as smart as you are, I don’t think it will get full.”

“You can borrow some of Roger’s brain,” Freddie offered. “He’s not using it.”

“Shut up, Freddie.”

The band quickly learned how to put John’s memory to good use (Brian ruling that John being responsible for remembering Freddie’s and Roger’s wardrobes was not a good use, but still, it happened). There was a reason John took charge of band finances as he never forgot a thing that was said or written. He made even the nastiest of record producers unnerved by reciting what they had worn and drank at every meeting and knew to the penny what was spent.

“I am so proud of you,” Freddie beamed after one meeting where John quietly, humbly, tore a manager to bits. “By the way, what did I wear to the club last week?”

“I wasn’t there, so I don’t know,” John said wearily. “I keep reminding you that you have to either take a picture and show me, or tell me, or write it down if you want me to remember that.”

“My baby computer,” Freddie cooed, pinching John’s cheeks.

“Stop that,” John muttered. “Or I won’t tell you what you wore at the last concert and let you wear the same thing over and over.”

“Shit, don’t scare me like that darling!”

Even Brian was guilty of using John at times. “John, did this restaurant have vegetarian options?”

“You had the garden salad and mushroom soup,” John said. He didn’t need to look at the menu. “I had the hamburger, Freddie had the fish and chips, and Roger the roast beef.”

“Did we like it?” Roger asked.

John sighed. “I guess?” he said. “No one complained.”

“Great! Order for us, would you? I’m going to have a smoke.”

Roger wanted to know totally random things, such as how many sugars had he put in his coffee six months ago, and how many dates he’d had two years ago at Easter. But he was good about seldom ‘abusing’ John’s memory – better than Freddie and Brian, actually. He just occasionally wanted to know odd stuff. John figured they were all entitled to have their brains work in different ways and if Roger really needed to know what he had for breakfast on the fifth of last month, John was willing to tell him if he knew.

John learned to balance things. He had to have things a certain way, a routine no matter how difficult it was on tour, and his brothers did all they could to help. Anyone who crossed John in any way was first politely torn apart verbally by the bassist and then kicked out by Roger and Freddie while Brian loomed. Some wondered why the other three deferred to the quiet bassist for so much, but Freddie, Brian and Roger never said a thing.

He was their secret weapon, and they protected what was theirs.

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Chapter 10: Stepdad

Summary:  From a prompt by LadyOfLoriens: Maybe you could write something about Freddie meeting Jim? A second dad for our baby John?

Note: In this universe, Freddie does not have AIDS.

“How do you feel about children?” Freddie asked Jim as they returned to Freddie’s home after their official second date. Freddie was ready to scream to the world that he loved this man.

The Irishman smiled. “I love them,” he admitted. “I didn’t know you had any. I would love to meet them.”

“Just one son, John,” Freddie beamed. “How about we all have dinner together Tuesday?”

Jim chuckled as he kissed Freddie. “Sure. How old is he?”

“He’s just a child,” Freddie sighed. “But thinks he’s a grown up. It’s so cute.”

***** *****

“Well, you are a little older than I expected,” Jim said cheerfully.

“Oh God.” John sighed. “How old did he tell you I was?”

Jim shrugged. “He didn’t really say,” he mussed thoughtfully. “For some reason, I was picturing a 10-year-old.”

“I’m adopted,” John said dryly, taking a long drink.

Freddie appeared like magic and took the glass from John’s hand. “Now, Deaky, I said you could have a glass of wine with dinner, not before.”

“Its not wine, it’s vodka,” John said.

The singer stiffened. “Who gave you this?” he demanded. “Phoebe?”

“I brought the bottle with me as a gift, Freddie. I purchased it from a store.”

“With a fake ID?” Freddie shrieked. “Where did you get that from?”

“Its not fake, I keep telling you.”

“John Richard Deacon Mercury----” Freddie began to rant.

John looked at Jim. “Ignore him, it’s easier that way.”

“Ignore what? Is someone selling to underaged kids?” Jim was starting to look pissed. “Did you get pressured into buying?”

John blinked, a shiver going down his spine. “Jim, look, here’s my drivers license. Look at the date of birth. Please.”

“So many fakes out there,” Jim shook his head. “No wonder Freddie worries about you so much. So many bad influences.”

“I play in the band! I have since I was 19, which I am *not* anymore! Look at the date, Hell, look at me! I’m not a kid!”

“Don’t listen to him, dear,” Freddie said to Jim. “He’s acting out. He’s at that age, I’m afraid. Questioning authority.”

“I understand,” Jim smiled at Freddie, hearts in his eyes. “I can see why you are so protective of him.

“Jesus, I should have known,” John grumbled to Phoebe when the other man wandered into the room in search of booze.

“I like him,” Phoebe said seriously. “He’s a good guy, and I can tell Freddie is absolutely mad about him. I think they will be good for each other.” Phoebe reached out and patted John’s shoulder. “And he’ll be a good stepdad to you,” he teased.

“Shut up,” John muttered.

Dinner went well, until Freddie threatened to send John to bed without dessert, which led to John pointing out that he didn’t live there. Then Jim politely and innocently asked just how long John had been living on his own, which made Freddie feel like a bad parent. He dragged both Jim and John upstairs to show them ‘John’s bedroom’, proving that John did have a bedroom. John said he had only slept there twice (both when he was hungover after a party) and Freddie then really felt like a horrible parent, and Jim was going to leave him because he couldn’t be trusted and he was a dreadful person and he started to cry.

John and Jim both apologized. John ended up spending the night to prove to Jim that Freddie hadn’t thrown him out on the streets when he turned 18 (which, no matter how hard John to tried to convince Jim, had not been just a few months ago – he was in the 30’s for God’s sake), and Freddie calmed down enough to be happy.

Jim started referring to John as his ‘son’, and John knew he was doomed.

*****************************************************************************

Chapter 11: Operation D-A-T-E

Summary: From a prompt by Rogerina_Taylor:John going on a date. Freddie goes full mama bear mode. Maybe Freddie spies on their date or Roger or Brian.

Freddie stood in the center of the living room, tapping his foot. Nervous energy radiated off him.

“Jesus, Freddie, calm down,” Roger said from the couch.

“Calm down? Calm down? My baby is going on a D-A-T-E and you are telling me to calm down?”

Brian took a sip of beer. “Maybe because your baby is 20 years old and its high time he got out?”

“Yeah, even you had a date by age 21, Bri. I remember,” Roger smirked, and Brian hit his arm.

“My precious baby John is not you Brian, and – Thank God – not you, either, Roger. John is….special.” Freddie was about ready to tear his hair out.

“We’ve been tutoring him for weeks,” Brian said, trying to be logical. “He knows all about stranger danger and has memorized more than even I can say about safety. I’m surprised he is even willing to leave the flat, given all the scary stuff you have warned him about.”

“Yeah, I was about ready to live under the bed after your lecture this afternoon,” Roger volunteered.

“Hush!” Freddie hissed. “He’s coming out.”

John emerged from the bedroom dressed and groomed. Freddie fussed over him for a few minutes, adjusting a collar here, a jacket sleeve there. John looked amazing. *sniff* His baby was growing up.

“Now remember, don’t accept any drinks from strangers. Keep your ID in a separate place from your money.” Freddie was patting down John, making sure his directions had been followed. “You have phone numbers memorized, I know, but repeat them again.”

John sighed. “The phone here is 555—“he began. He kept reciting the numbers for local police, taxis, neighbors, and Scotland Yard. Freddie nodded in approval and made sure John had proper change for all calls.

“And the plan?” Freddie got out a piece of paper that had been carefully drawn up. Seriously, the Magna Carta had had less time in its drafting. Freddie, Brian, and Roger had all gone over it.

“7:45, leave apartment,” John began to recite again. “7:50, get in taxi that Brian has called for, but only *after* confirming the license plate.” Brian gave John a thumbs up. “Approximately 8:10, arrive disco. Call apartment to confirm my arrival from the pay phone out front before entering disco. Call you again from pay phone inside the disco once I have entered said disco. 8:20 meet Veronica at the bar, left side by the beer taps. Call again to confirm I am with Veronica. 8:20 – 11:30, dance. Three hours. I can have 2 beers, total, as can Veronica. Rest of time, order water. Keep glass in possession at all times. Do not accept drink offers. 9:30, order bar snacks. 11:30, call you before we exit disco. Approximately 11:40, call you once I have put Veronica in a taxi home. Include license plate of taxi. Approximately 11:42, I call you with license plate of taxi I am taking home. Should arrive home no later than 12:10. Make taxi driver stop and call if running late.”

“Good, good,” Freddie approved. He went to the bedroom to get a last-minute scarf for John and the bassist looked over at Brian and Roger.

“12:30. Sneak out of apartment and go to Veronica’s to shag,” John muttered. Brian chocked on his beer and Roger beamed in approval.

Promptly at 7:45, John left, clutching a piece of paper with the taxi number on it. Freddie had wanted to walk him out to the curb, but finally decided it might a little much. Roger and Brian exchanged glances, knowing that *something* was going to happen.

At 8:00, Freddie jumped up. “Alright, boys, here is the plan. Brian, you stay here for the phone calls. Roger, you and I are going to disco.”

“For God’s sake Freddie,” Roger grumbled. “John is an adult---”

“You take that back!” Freddie gasped.

“And he can go on a date by himself. What do you honestly think is going to happen? They are going to the lamest disco in all of Europe – it opens at 7:00 and closes at midnight - and Veronica is a nice girl.”

“Roger, stop being a sexist pig. A woman can be just as frightening as any man; more so, in fact.”

“Are you saying Veronica is frightening and is going to assault John? Maybe kiss him?” Brian asked.

“Brian, I thank you to not use such foul language and say such scary horrible things concerning John. Roger, get your damn coat now. We are running behind.”

Fifteen minutes later, Freddie and Roger were in the shadows of the disco, spying on John and Veronica. Freddie may have frowned a bit at how *physical* some of the dancing was, but he certainly couldn’t cast stones. They called Brian every hour, confirming that John had called as directed and giving updates. Freddie grabbed a taxi at 11:30 so he could be home before John while Roger stayed behind on John and Veronica duty, memorizing taxi license plates and calling Brian to confirm.

John arrived home to find Freddie and Brian relaxing while watching an old movie. Roger came in a few minutes later, saying he had gone on a last-minute date that ended early. It fooled no one.

At 12:30 AM, Roger gave another thumbs up to John as he quietly left the apartment. Freddie was in bed, asleep with dreams of his son innocently playing with kittens and stuffed animals.

Notes:

End Notes: What do you think? Would you like more snippets in this little universe? **I take Prompts for this universe!** You can comment below or message me at Tumblr “MacandLacysPlace” with requests.

Rules: may be gen, m/f, or m/m, but never explicit. Fluff! Austic!John will factor in on occasion. NO AGE PLAY or Infantilism; just pure fun and silliness. Great thanks again to LetMeEntertainYou.

Upcoming stories: Grandparents Day :-) Will John ever be allowed to date? Or drink?? Or drive??? (Papa doesn't drive, so why should his son?)

[beneathtreemomo]

LTT Q&A Answers!

Q: Yoru, was Fubuki your first crush? If not, who?/ Who was Yoru’s first love?

            A: “Well, I think Shirou was my first crush?" Yoru admitted, rubbing the back of his neck nervously while a blush rosied his cheeks. "I’d never felt like that with anyone before him, but I’m also still trying to figure out just how crushes and being in love feels like. Sometimes it feels like I don’t feel it right, even now. But I do know that I love Shirou more than anything, and that’s what matters. So… yeah, Shirou was my first crush.”

 Q: YORU, MY BOY, what movie can you watch over and over without ever getting tired of? AND what’s wrong but sounds right?

            A: He blinked, staring at the question. “Uhhhh, that’s actually a really good question and I don’t have a single clue. I tend to get tired of a lot of things if I watch or listen to them too often, so I try to keep my favorites out of the ‘Frequently Watch’ list. But if I had to guess, I’d say the movie I’d watch over and over would be The Pacifier. It’s silly and a really good story all in one, so I feel like I'll always be able to enjoy it.”

                       With the first half answered, he reread the second half of the message, “Something wrong that sounds right? I guess…" He tapped his chin in thought, letting out a hum as he tried to think of something. "Trying to please everyone as your source of happiness. It’s not that aiming for that goal is bad, per say, but there are people who you just can’t please, and if you focus only on pleasing others without focusing on yourself, you’re only going to get hurt. And at that point, unless you change how you're thinking, you may never be happy because each failure will be plaguing you.”

 Q: Since Coach Kudou is now in the story, a question for him: what’s the most epic way you’ve seen someone quit or be fired?

            A: For a few minutes, Kudou was silent, thinking about how to answer the question. When he started talking, there was a small smile on his face. "I don’t necessarily think it qualifies as “epic”, but when I worked at Sakurazaki Junior High, there was this one kid very few of us could stand. He was constantly talking back to the teachers and correcting “mistakes” that we’d make, or point out things we already knew and either dumbed down for the kids or were on the way to getting to. He actually got one of the teachers so mad she stormed into the principal’s office and started shouting at him about it. Somehow, they got the PA system started and their argument rang loud and clear through the air. Of course, it ended with her shouting "I QUIT!" and the door to his office was shut so hard it made the PA system screech."

 Q: For one of the best girls, Matoro, what’s the most expensive thing you’ve broken?

            A: Matoro laughed, rubbing the back of her head. "I once broke a family heirloom. It was this old pocket watch, and I took it with me to skating practice. When I landed on my butt after failing to do a trick, I ended up, uh, crushing it. Glass shattered, hands stopped moving, it almost sounded like the pocket watch the Mad Hatter and March Hare ruined in Alice in Wonderland by stuffing it with sugar and jam! ….. Oh yeah, I panicked and thought it’d work again if I did that, so…. That didn’t help. But we got it restored, and they fixed it up perfectly! I wasn’t allowed to touch it again until recently, though.”

 Q: Shirou, share some stupid stories and tell me when was the last time you got to tell someone “I told you so.” after a ridiculous situation?

           A: "The last time I got to tell someone 'I told you so' after something ridiculous was actually pretty recent! The Hakuren team, Yoru, and I were all hanging out at Yoru’s place and they built a little pool-like area that we can use as a skating rink, so it’s pretty big. We were all doing whatever we wanted in the snow when Matoro suggested we try having a match on the ‘ice rink’. I and a few others actually opted out of it, mostly because even though the pool is big, it’s not going to hold all twelve of us. 

          “I told them to be careful, because the ice was probably a bit thin due to the weather starting to warm up a little, and while they said they were going to be fine Yoru and I just kind of… knew that it was about to be a disaster. So before the match started we said not to fall through; at most they would have gotten damp calves but, still, there’s a reason there’s ice and snow.

         “Long story short, we were having a blast but on one collision the ice broke underneath Matoro and Kitami and they fell in. That’s the most recent silly ‘I told you so’ that’s happened!”

 Q: Watanabe, because I don't get your mind at all, what are you interested in that most people aren’t - and no, murder isn't a proper answer?

           A: Watanabe gave a charming smile, laughing a little. “I’m interested in lots of popular things! If it’s not popular, then—"

           A teammate of his popped up beside him after overhearing the conversation, crossing his arms and giving the questioner an annoyed look. Watanabe glared at the teammate. “He enjoys throwing rocks at birds. And from his track record, there are worse things I could mention.”

           Watanabe hissed, shoving the teammate away as he growled, “Would you shut up?!” He turned back to the questioner, smiling politely. “Ignore him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about! I love anything popular, I don’t think there’s really anything I like that isn’t something most people enjoy!”

 Q: Haruka, what was cool when you were young but isn’t cool now? AND what songs hit you with a wave of nostalgia every time you hear them? AND because the Angst is real, when was the last time you immediately regretted something you said?

           A: “Oh!!” She gasped, grinning and clapping her hands together, “I lived in America for a few years and I fell in love with Alf and Mr. Rogers. I thought they were so cool! But nowadays it feels like you’re lucky if someone even remembers Alf, and the generations that really seem to remember Mr. Rogers have come to a close after they stopped airing the show. I think Hyouga’s generation might be the last.”

           At the question about what songs make her nostalgic, she hummed thoughtfully and looked up at the sky. Coming up with an answer, she snapped her fingers and looked back at the questioner. “Maybe I’m Amazed by Paul McCartney. That song was probably the first one Natsume and I danced to as a couple, and then as husband and wife. It’s a special song that I wouldn’t trade for the world, and each time I listen to it, it reminds me of those days.” As she spoke a bright blush began to cover her cheeks and she looked away, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “Other than that… I don’t really know. A lot of songs, I guess, but none really stick out like that one.”

           For the third question her blush only deepened, her smile slipping and being replaced with sad regret. “Oh gosh, there are plenty of things I wish I hadn’t said.” She admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “The most recent… I think it was back after Yoru got injured. We were all pretty wound up because of it, and all of us said and did things we regret. But I remember snapping at Natsume that Yoru should just “Get over it” or… something along those lines. The words weren’t near as blunt or sharp, but the intent was clear, and I regretted it immediately. It took me over a month before I could look Yoru in the eye again even after I apologized then and there. I’m really lucky it didn’t sour my relationship with either of them completely.”

 Q: And last one for Yoru! What’s the most awkward thing that happens to you on a regular basis?

           A: Yoru groaned, scrubbing his face with his hands. “Natsume refuses to let me bathe in peace and I wish I was joking.” He sighed, glancing uneasily at the questioner. “If you want one that still makes me feel awkward, though… it’s whenever I snap at people. There’s just something in the air, you know? Like you know you screwed up but you can’t apologize or you did and it just makes things more awkward. I’ve also caught people staring at my eyes before, that happens pretty often. Can’t really say which is more awkward though. They’re all pretty high up there.”

 Q: What’s Natsume’s job?

           A: “Oh, oh! I’ve got this one!!!” Araya cheered, waving her hand enthusiastically. “Natsume’s a baker/patisserie! He owns a cute little bakery in town, near some ice cream parlors and cafés. He’s actually super popular, too! One of the town’s best, hands down. His specialty in the store is castella cakes and melonpan! Yoru told us he loves experimenting with the recipes and coming up with new flavors along with ones that already exist.” Her eyes twinkled with excitement, “But if he’s got a booth at festivals or wants to help make something for a party? Expect the best sata andagi and/or amanattō you may have ever tasted!”

 Q: Was Yoru always this fluffy?

           A: Yoru frowned, biting his lip. “Sorry, I don’t think I understand the question? Fluffy how?”

           Natsume cleared his throat, holding up a hand. “I can answer this! Just give me a second.” He ran out of the room, coming back with a rather large photo album and opening the pages to show pictures of a toddler with familiar mismatched eyes.

           He pointed to one where the boy, slightly older than in the pictures before it, was on a surfboard in the sand with an instructor to side, encouraging him. “Here’s a picture where 6-year-old Yoru is learning to surf.”

            At the sound of his name Yoru’s eyes widened, a yelp escaping him as he tried to cover the picture with his hands. “No, don’t show them that!” He cried, even as Natsume moved the book out of the way and above his head. Yoru jumped as high as he could, growling under his breath as he tried to grab the book, “You are so lucky I don’t like using hissatsus outside of matches.”

             Natsume grinned, pointing to the picture again as he leaned away from his brother, “Look at how wild his hair is! He looked like an adorable kitten, and it didn’t help that we lived right along the beach; sea air can affect your hair in many ways, you know, and for him the extra waviness added more volume and made him even more fluffy than he is now!”

             “Natsume!!”

Q: Did he (Yoru) ever have problems with heterochromia? (ie, other people making fun of him for it?)

          A: Natsume sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away from the questioner. “He did, actually. When he was little, some jerks used to call him strange or creepy and make fun of it since it was scary to them. He ended up getting really reclusive, and hid his gold eye behind his hair. It stayed like that until he was like, ten.”

 Q: What’s Yoru’s favorite color?

           A: Yoru hummed in thought, answering a moment later. “I like purples and greens, so I guess maybe a dark forest green or some sort of dark purple?”

 Q: Has he (Yoru) ever tried sports that aren’t soccer?

           A: Yoru nodded, smiling brightly. “I used to surf back in Okinawa! That’s actually how I met Tsunami, aside from being in the same class. I also do all the winter sports Hakuren has to offer, but some of them weren’t really me doing “sports” so much as just… messing around, I guess?” His eyebrows furrowed in thought, smile turning into a curious pout. “Is it still a sport if you don’t treat it as such?”

 Q: Does Yoru watch babyTV with Hyouga?

           A: Yoru shook his head “We don’t watch babyTV; honestly we mostly just watch random videos on youtube or whatever kid friendly things are on Netflix. So lots of animated movies.” Behind him, Hyouga started playing something on the tv. The Digimon theme song started playing and Yoru sighed, smile turning a little strained. “And Digimon. Lots of Digimon.”

Q: If Yoru, Watanbe, Haruka and Natsume were paladins, what lions would they command?

           A: Watanabe would operate Sincline, but if he HAD to have a lion it’d probably end up being Black, and only because none of the other lions fit him (sorry black sweetie you deserve better). Yoru would either be Green or Blue, Haruka would be Yellow, and Natsume would be Red!

 Q: Will Tsunami ever call Watanabe a wet paper shark?

           A: Tsunami’s jaw dropped. “That…. Is the best nickname EVER,” He cried, leaping to his feet and pumping a fist into the air as he grinned, “And you bet the next time I see that jerk’s face I’m calling him it!”

           Color drained from Yoru’s face at the thought, letting out a nervous laugh. “Please, don’t.”

 Q: Is Yoru ticklish (and does Shirou know/exploit this)?

           A: Shirou smirked, eyes ringed with gold. He crept over to the couch where Yoru was sitting and reading a book, ducking behind it when Yoru glanced over his shoulder. When he was sure Yoru’s attention was back on the book he sprung onto Yoru, grinning as he started to mercilessly tickle Yoru’s sides. Yoru shrieked, laughter filling the air as he tried to push Shirou away and wriggle away from his fingers. “Yep,” Shirou laughed, stopping after a few minutes to hug Yoru and nuzzle his cheek. “Definitely ticklish.”

 Q: Did Natsume and Yoru ever have a Naruto phase?

           A: Haruka giggled, hiding a smile with a hand. “One time in college, Natsume was trying to impress me and I was stressing out during a time crunch for fashion class, so he pretended to use “shadow clone jutsu” and ran around the room pretending like he was a ton of different versions of himself helping me pin down patterns or sew on details to things! Then when I was smiling he pretended to use Naruto’s coveted “sexy jutsu” and did a silly little shimmy that had me crying from laughter.”

          Natsume blushed, laughing weakly and holding up his pointer finger, “I’d just like to say my actual Naruto phase was back when I was ten. I just really didn’t want to see her so stressed.”

           Yoru snickered from beside them, rolling his eyes at Natsume’s correction. He glanced at the questioner, smiling apologetically. “I’m not a fan of Naruto, to be honest.”

 Q: How tall is everyone?

           A: I actually made a height chart once for the Yukimuras! As of FFI, Shirou is 5’0 (152cm), Yoru is 5’1 (154cm), Hyouga is 3’1 (94cm), Haruka is 5’8 (172.7cm) and Natsume is 5’10 (177.8cm) though I’ve accidentally been saying he’s over 6ft/180cm for like, three or four months now.

 Q: Is Yoru your first IE OC?

           A: Yep, he is! I created him in I think August of 2017, maybe earlier. I just felt like Shirou needed someone who understood a little, you know? Not even romantically, just… in general. And my sweet little shipper heart couldn’t help but make it gay so I did xD Originally, he was going to be from a random school Raimon stopped at before getting to Hokkaido, and even when he was in Hokkaido he was just going to be someone with a secret who insisted he come along! Things changed of course, and I’m actually really happy with the “fallen star” persona I’ve given him!

 Q: What do you think there’s not enough of in the IE fandom (Male!OC, underrated canon characters, etc.)?

           A: Well, to be frank, I wouldn’t even really notice what’s missing/not enough because I simply just don’t read a lot of IE fanfic or leave my bubble of select few content creators. I read it from my friends or writers I like if it’s topics I can stomach, of course, but other than that I just stick to my small corner and support everyone w/o having actually read their stuff xD But something that’s usually severely lacking in ALL fandoms is Male OC stuff. It’s like Nessie the Loch-ness monster sometimes! I mean, I also get WHY it’s not that popular, and I’m actually fine with Male OCs not being popular, but I’ve always noticed that there’s usually one male OC fic to at least 10 female OC fics in just about every fandom that has OC fics.

Q: How did Yoru realize his sexuality?

           A: Honestly, if he hadn’t gotten a crush on Shirou, he might not have put two and two together until he was in his 20s because he honestly would have just… kept subconsciously waiting for a switch that wouldn’t have come until he found The One.

           Before Yoru got a crush on Shirou, he figured he was gay at the very least—he didn’t like girls so he figured he liked boys but he still hadn’t… felt like it fit? Like everyone else seemed so certain about who they liked and while he didn’t care he noticed that he didn’t really get it, either. Then when the crush on Shirou hit, he assumed he was homoromantic, demisexual. But then as they get older Yoru realizes that, wow, he really doesn’t see anyone else in the same light he does Shirou? Like not even a little baby tickle of it.

            And he’s perfectly fine with Shirou touching him in certain ways but the idea of it with anyone else? Skin crawling (SIDE NOTE: You don’t have to be sex repulsed to be ace/demi. Being ace/demi involves feeling little to no sexual attraction. Quite a few on the ace spectrum just happen to be sex repulsed as well) Heck, sometimes with Shirou it’s not a comfy feeling (don’t worry whenever they do something it’s consensual) So he throws terms around in his head until he comes to the conclusion he’s demiromantic and asexual and after that he just stopped caring about labeling it.

Q: What’s Haruka’s job and how did she meet Natsume?

           A: Haruka grinned, pulling open the door to her studio. The room was filled with an organized mess of fabric rolls and mannequins of all shapes and sizes, some of which had either completed, half-finished, or barely started outfits, the tables covered in just as much mess. “I’m a fashion designer/tailor!” She chirped, closing the door as she continued to explain. “I mostly do freelance jobs like making costumes for plays and ballets, music videos, movie shoots, or parties. I also do small mending jobs that people in town need, like taking a dress in or out. But I also have my own lines of clothes that I sell online in batches with the help of my darling family as well as Yoru’s friends Araya and Matoro as models!”

                       Natsume took over for the second half, eyes bright with nostalgia and laughter. “We met in high school, became friends our first year thanks to being in the same group in the cooking club. At the time I was actually crushing on someone else and Haruka wasn’t bothering with dating, but my dad was constantly trying to prove we were dating— which, in hindsight, was hilarious. When we entered college, we started dating about halfway through our first year! It just kinda happened, y’know?”

 Q: Shirou lives in an orphanage in LTT right? Will he move in with the Yukimuras one day? :3

           A: In a way! He’s kinda already living there, but hasn’t really “moved in” because, well, Natsume and Haruka aren’t sure they have time to take the training required to become legal foster parents—even if it is inadequate. By the time high school comes to a close though, Shirou will have pretty much moved into the Yukimura household, though not officially. He’s still listed as living in the orphanage. During college, Yoru and Shirou get an apartment in town!

 Q: Watanabe, why are you a grumpy old man?

           A: Watanabe sputtered, letting out a dramatic, offended gasp. “WH—I AM NOT A GRUMPY OLD MAN.” He cried, clearing his throat and crossing his arms as he straightened his back. “I’ll have you know I’m quite distinguished and I deserve every right I have to be bitter about Yukimura’s bought—” He froze, catching sight of his teammates. He smiled, eyes flashing for a moment as he backtracked on the remark he was about to make. “I mean!!  I just tend to have anger issues, is all. Nothing major, of course!” He laughed, holding out an arm as if to make a point as his eyes narrowed ever so slightly, “And really, it isn’t fair what happened with Yuki, right?”

           One of his teammates shrugged, “I don’t know, I think it’s alright. He’s a competent manager, I’d say he earned a place on the national team.”

           Watanabe laughed, his eye twitching and smile sharp. “Yes…. Of course, you make a valid point!”

 Q: How did Natsume react to the news he was going to be a dad? Was Haruka worried? How did YORU react? XD

           A: Haruka giggled, amusement glinting in her eyes. “Natsume fainted.”

           “NO I DIDN’T!”

           She rolled her eyes, her smile wide. “It wasn’t exactly planned for us to have a kid, even though we’d both been talking about it. But the moment he woke up he had the hugest grin on his face and kissed me over and over. It was so cute! Yoru’s reaction wasn’t really amazing or anything—he got wide-eyed and super happy and with Tsunami’s help threw a super small party over it. Nothing fancy, just a little “congratulations” and some cupcakes and movies.”

            “And yeah, I was actually really worried—about being pregnant, not Natsume’s reaction, although the fainting startled me.” Haruka admitted, ignoring how Natsume shouted again that he didn’t faint. “We were both still in college at the time, and college is stressful enough without having to worry about being pregnant, too.

            “We talked about it and Natsume, the absolute sweetheart, decided he’d just quit school and become a full-time employee at the restaurant he was working at. I took a year off of school, worked via my online store a little bit leading up to the final term, and once Hyouga was ok to leave with Yoru, Miyu, and Hayato, I went back to school for a little while. Natsume’s still on the fence about whether or not he wants to go back, now that he’s got his own bakery.”

#LTT extras #louder than thunder fic #LTT #LTT Q&A Questions #Yukimura Yoru #Yukimura Natsume #Yukimura Haruka #fubuki shirou #matoro juka #kudou michiya #watanabe katashi #tsunami jousuke #ask mo and co.

[timeoutforthee]

Like It or Not (Chapter 2)

Chapter 1

Read it on AO3

Summary: Logan, Patton, Roman, and Virgil are all struggling in their recovery. Their doctors, Thomas Sanders and Emile Picani think they can help each other out.

Aka Group Therapy AU

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Eating Disorders and self-deprecating thoughts

Taglist: @itsausernamenotafobsong, @sea-blue-child, @iaminmultiplefandoms, @princeanxious, @uwillbeefoundtonight, @zaidiashipper, @arandompasserby, @levyredfox3 @echomist13

(Thank you guys so much I’m so excited people like this!!! Also, I know there’s a tagging glitch going around, so if you want to be untagged, just let me know!)

“I’m here for group therapy!” Patton chirps. His hands are shoved into his pockets, so no one can tell how badly they’re shaking.

The secretary says, “Of course, sweetie,” then pauses, “You’re about fifteen minutes early, though.”

“I just wanted to be the first one here!” So they don’t all turn and look at me when I go in. “So I can be the first to say hi to everyone!”

The woman smiles. “Well, the room isn’t being used, so you can go ahead and head back, sweetheart. It’s room number 203.”

“Thanks!” he says, turning down the hallway and throwing a wave over his shoulder.

There’s no one else there, just as he hoped. There’s a desk with a half circle of chairs around it.  and he chooses a random one to sit in. Only then, alone in the room, does he allow his smile to slip off his face as he slumps down in his chair.

Why? Why? Why couldn’t he have said no, this one time?

Because you’re weak. Do you really think they’ll want to be friends with you?

“Nope,” he says, out loud, “No, we’re not doing this, not now.”

Dr. Sanders had told him the previous week that they did, indeed, have enough interest to start the group. He had mentioned there would only be four, but it was enough. Patton actually relaxed at that. Less intimidation. And even though he had lied about his enthusiasm, he meant it when he said that he was always up to make new friends.

Any friends, any friends at all, please-

He looked up as he heard footsteps coming down the hallway and sat up a little straighter because slouching made rolls-

“Hey!” he greeted, smiling at the other patient who just walked in.

The guy turned to him, and he perked up even more, “Hey! We have the same glasses!”

“It would appear that way, yes,” the guy said, adjusting the frames in question, “Hello, my name is Logan.”

“Patton!” he narrows his eyes slightly, “Do I know you from somewhere?”

“It’s possible we go to school together, assuming we live close to this facility,” Logan says, stiffly, “I’ve been told I tend to blend in, so I doubt you would have noticed me, though.”

“Aw, I’m sure that’s not true!”

Logan shrugs, “It’s not an attack on my character, simply an observation. I don’t participate in any clubs or sports, have very few friends. School is, after all, a place of learning and I intend to use it for that purpose,” he paused, “Though I guess I do help out the librarian from time to time during lunch-”

“That’s it!” Patton cries, suddenly, “Mrs. Barber! I eat lunch in the library sometimes,” he frowns, “Wait, don’t you always wear a tie?”

He glances down at his black polo, “I, uh, I thought I might appear more approachable without it.” Even though he feels a like a little piece of him is missing.

“I’m sure no one will care,” he says as Logan takes a seat across from him. He hums noncommittally in response.

It’s only then that Patton allows himself to observe him closer, taking in smaller details that others probably don’t notice. Like the fact Logan’s watch hangs off his wrist, just a little bit, or the fact that his polo isn’t quite tight enough. Staring at him, Patton becomes even more aware of the way his thighs squish together in the chair.

Before he can go down that road any farther, he hears “Da dadada da…”

It takes him a second to place it as the tune goes on, then he remembers. Spongebob Squarepants.

“Tch!” a hand appears in the doorway.

Logan looks at him, completely lost. Patton shrugs. He’s had a few other therapists, before Thomas, but he’s pretty sure he’s never had this one. That’s confirmed a little later, when at a very dramatic part of the song he leans his head in, hair flopping to one side.

Wait, Logan thinks, Is his hair pink?

Song completed, he walks in, nonchalantly, and sits in the chair behind the desk, which is in between Patton and Logan.

“New patients, do you how do?”

“...what.”

“My name is Dr. Picani,” the therapist starts, not deterred, “We’re still waiting on two others, but I asked you two to come in a little earlier, since we haven’t formally met.”

“Hold on, I thought Dr. Sanders was leading these sessions,” Logan said.

“Ehhhh, we’ve been discussing who’d be the best fit, considering you two are patients of Thomas’s and the other two are mine. So, since this group was my idea, I figured we’d try this first, but Thomas will be here next week. You guys just let us know which makes you feel more comfortable. Speaking of comfort,” he pulls the chair from behind the desk to the front of it, so the chairs are a complete circle. He then pulls out a small figure and places on his desk.

“Hey, it’s Garnet!”

“Yeah!” Dr. Picani cries, “And Amethyst,” he pulls out another, “And Pearl!” and a third.

Logan is confused. Those are not gemstones, they are pastel women.

“I thought, since they’re such good friends, they’d inspire you guys a bit, plus this office is just so dull!”

“But I thought there were four of us?” Logan says.

“There are!”

“There are four of them, too,” Patton giggles.

Logan furrows his eyebrows, and looks at the desk again. He can definitely count to three. He is going to have to talk to Dr. Sanders about this.

“I’m heeeeere!” a voice sings, and a third guy steps into the office, his arms up in a ridiculous pose, “Roman Prince, at your service!”

“Hi Roman!” Dr. Picani says, “Have a seat.” He does, right next to Patton, “We can do the rest of the introductions when our fourth gets here.”

The fourth is exactly two minutes late, which Logan knows because he’s checked his watch every 30 seconds since the meeting was supposed to start. He’s about to say something when a hooded figure slinks into the meeting.

“Well, it’s about time!” Roman says, and his voice booms, “What took you so long?”

The fourth guy doesn’t say anything, instead sitting next to Logan and stretching his legs out in front of him. He tips his head back and closes his eyes.

“Hey, Sunshine, I’m talking to you!”

“Now, now,” Patton says, and Logan is shocked by how much he sounds like a dad, “Sometimes things happen. Right, kiddo?” It’s directed at the fourth member, but he doesn’t move.

“Awesome!” Dr. Picani says, pulling out his notebook, “Now that everyone’s here, we can begin. But, Virgil?” his voice gets a little louder at the end. The fourth-Virgil-opens one of his eyes and turns to him, “It might help if you take your headphones out.”

Virgil lets out a long sigh, but reaches up and pop two small earbuds out. He wraps them around his iPod before shoving it back into his pocket.

“Thank you! Now, you all know what you’re here for,” the four exchange weary looks, “For recovery and for support. This is a very safe, welcoming space. Now, what’s your favorite cartoon?”

There’s silence.

“What?” Logan asks.

“It’s the first session, guys! You have to be at least a little comfortable with each other before we can expect you to open up to each other.”

Logan presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Oh, yes, he definitely needed to talk to Dr. Sanders about this. This is not going to work.

“I do not watch cartoons-”

“I like Spongebob!” Patton says, “But, like, classic, good Spongebob. The newer ones have gone a liiiittle downhill.”

“Steven Universe,” Roman replies, “It truly has the most epic of battles. Though Ducktales has some very fascinating adventures. Oh! And Avatar: The Last Airbender!”

They turn to Virgil. He shrugs.

“I don’t watch cartoons, either.”

Logan watches Dr. Picani take some notes, and wonders what exactly could be so telling about cartoons.

Meanwhile, with his notepad safely angled away from his patients, he wrote “Virgil is a liar liar pants on fire because he said he doesn’t watch cartoons even though last week he had some very interesting things to say about Lapis Lazuli, his favorite character.”

“Neat! What about music?” He says, leaning forward.

“Well, I listen to the Steven Universe soundtrack, some musicals-ooh! Especially the Spongebob Musical-and the Campfire Song song on repeat.”

“Campfire song song?” Logan asks.

“Do you not listen to music either, specs?” Roman asks him.

Logan tries not to glare. We are approachable and we are making friends, he reminds himself.

“No, I do not,” his voice is still clipped, “If I need to listen to something for some reason, it’s usually a podcast.”

“Evanescence,” Virgil says and Roman scoffs, “What?”

“Could you be more stereotypical?”

“Sure,” he says before Dr. Picani can step in, “I could’ve said My Chemical Romance.”

“They’re your second favorite, I’m sure.”

“Third, actually. Under Fall Out Boy,” Roman scoffs again and Virgil glares, “What do you listen to then? High School Musical?”

Roman opens his mouth, but Patton cuts him off, “Hey! That’s where I know you from! You played Troy Bolton last year!”

Virgil smirks, and Roman rushes to say, “Or-or-or, you could know me from football our Freshmen year.”

“Wasn’t that our worst season?” Logan asks, “Also, you were definitely Troy. You were also the Prince in Cinderella.”

“So, Roman enjoys Theater,” Dr. Picani says, cutting off any arguing, “What do you guys do for fun?”

“Oh! I’m on the yearbook committee!” Patton says.

“Puzzles, and other activities that don’t involve other people, such as reading.”

“I’m learning guitar.”

“Hey! I can play ukulele!” Patton says.

“Oooh,” Virgil says, sarcastically, “We can be jam buds.”

His eyes grow wide just as Roman’s and Patton’s light up in recognition

“Hey, was that a reference-?”

“Next question, Emile,” Virgil cuts Patton off.

Dr. Picani finishes writing BUSTED! before saying, “Favorite characters? I need some ideas for figurines to bring in next time.”

Logan ponders a moment, then says “I suppose Baymax would be satisfactory.”

“Yeah!” Dr. Picani cheers, writing it down.

“Any prince of any disney movie, but especially Flynn Rider,” Roman says.

“Uh-ooh-uh, how about Tigger? Or Winnie the Pooh?”

“Stitch,” Virgil says, and the other three turn to him, “What? I can’t be a fan of Disney, too?”

“It just appears like you would reject everything pure and sweet in the world,” Roman says.

“Pure and sweet? Are we watching the same movies? Because they can get dark,” Virgil says.

“Wha-? Dr. Picani, are you hearing this, he is disgracing Disney!”

“Yeah, I wanna see where this is going,” his therapist says, leaning forward.

“Besides the obvious, like the metaphors for racism in Zootopia, or the abuse in-”

“I know, I know, everyone says Beauty and The Beast is about Stockholm Syndrome, but it’s really about a love that transcends outward appearance. Even the most beastly, hairy-” he stops when he notices Patton’s apprehensive stare and Logan’s side eye, “Okay, not the best example, but-”

“Actually, I was going to say the parental abuse in Tangled, but very good point. Even movies that aren’t supposed to have those themes do”

“Mmm, not really the best example, Stockholm Syndrome doesn’t exist, at least not in the way the media portrays it,” Dr. Picani points out, “Also, even if it was, Belle doesn’t present any of the symptoms.”

“Fine,” Virgil says, “We can still point out the lack of consent in older stories. The implication that you can get what you want by lying and deceiving people in Aladdin.”

“Oh, come on, he came clean in the end!”

“Yeah, after lying and deceiving-”

Were….were they really doing this? During therapy? Logan looked at Patton, who looked just as confused. Dr. Picani just looked entertained, though.

“Face it, Princey, your tales as old as time just aren’t as magical as you think they are.”

“How dare you!” Roman cries, “Also I am not Princey. I am Roman Prince.”

“Your last name is Prince? Oh, that is rich.”

“Oh, shoot,” Dr. Picani said, looking up from his notebook, “I completely forgot. Names. Those would be a good start. But, Roman Prince,” he takes a deep breath, “serious Picani ACTIVATE!” Logan and Patton jump slightly, “So, why don’t you tell us why you’re here and what you’re hoping to get out of this?”

“I, uh,” For the first time all session, Roman seems unsure, “I have...an eating disorder,” he winces, that’s what the group was for of course he did, “And I, I want to get better?” Nailed it.

He looked around, waiting for some sort of ridicule, but no one says anything. Not even Virgil.

Dr. Picani nods, and looks at Virgil.

“I’m Virgil McCloud, and I’m just generally a mess,” he pauses, “I’m here so I don’t hurt Emile’s feelings.”

“I’ll take it,” Dr. Picani looks at Logan.

“I am Logan Crofter, I’ve been diagnosed with anorexia nervosa, and I’m here because my current therapist thought it would be beneficial for me.”

“And I’m Patton! Patton Hart! I...uh...I have bulimia, and I,” his voice suddenly drops to a whisper, “I just don’t want to be lonely anymore.”

He feels everyone’s eyes on him, and hunches in on himself self-consciously, wrapping his arms around his stomach.

So, Logan thinks, Someone else feels this way, too. He glances at Roman and Virgil and can see the same realization going across their faces. Patton was clearly the bravest of the four of them...objectively.

Out of the corner of his eye, Patton can see Dr. Picani nod, sympathetically, “Thank you for sharing that, Patton. I’m sure the other three feel similarly,” he closes his notebook, “Perhaps next time you all can dive into that with Dr. Sanders.”

#sanders sides #group therapy au #sanders sides fic #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #tw eating disorders #like it or not

[kickdownthewalls]

TOP 20 ROCK/METAL ALBUMS OF 2018

This has been a year of surprises and disappointments in pretty equal measure. Judas Priest blew me away with their latest record (and tour) and Immortal made one of the most triumphant comebacks in metal history. On the other hand, Voivod’s new one felt strangely by-the-numbers, as did the latest from Riot V and Monster Magnet. Still, the sheer amount of releases out there, just in the traditional metal and thrash scenes, is somewhat mind-boggling, and there were plenty of excellent albums to be found.

(Countries represented this year: Italy, UK, Sweden, Norway, Germany, USA, Canada, Switzerland, Portugal, and Denmark).

20. BURNING WITCHES - Hexenhammer

Switzerland is a tiny nation, but they have given the world some of the most creative and diverse bands over the years, from Krokus to Celtic Frost to Samael and beyond. Burning Witches combine elements of melodic thrash and classic heavy metal for a sound that works quite well and is perfectly suited to Seraina Telli’s powerful vocal delivery. The album has its ups and downs but the title track and “Open Your Mind” are both flat-out brilliant.

19. PERPETRATÖR - Altered Beast

This is how I like my thrash metal: fast, evil, dirty, but still well-played and composed. Perpetratör hail from Portugal and this is only their second full album, but it is a scorcher. Songs like “Extreme Barbarity” and “Terminal Possession” are brutally fast in the vein of the early Germans, but the band explore some more mid-tempo riffs here and there as well. Like all my favorite thrash bands, these guys sound like they are playing just on the edge of what they can get away with and the effect is electric.

18. ARTILLERY - The Face of Fear

These Danish thrashers are one of those bands that has always had consistently quality releases but, for whatever reason, never really made the impact others in the genre have over the years. While the line-up has changed over time, the current incarnation has done three albums together now and sounds quite comfortable here. The drum sound is a bit ‘bonky’ for my tastes, but the quality of the tunes rises above it. Bonus points for the variety of songs on offer, too, from speedy, complex thrash, to power ballads to straight-ahead heavy metal.

17. LUCIFER - II

Lucifer’s brand of retro doom rock is both obvious in its influences and original in its assembly of said influences. The jazzier side of early Sabbath is the most prevalent element at work here, with riffs that range from heavy and evil to mournful and atmospheric. Despite some line-up changes, the sound is pretty consistent with the excellent debut from 2015, with perhaps a bit more clarity in the production (though nowhere near polished-sounding, fear not).

16. WITCHING HOUR - ...And Silent Grief Shadows the Passing Moon

The number of excellent bands with ‘witch’ in their name is strangely high this year and Germany’s Witching Hour are another to add to that list. This is their third full-length and displays a great deal of maturity and talent for writing complex yet compelling songs. Elements of black and thrash metal abound, but there is a lot of other stuff going on here, too, and lots of melody. The bass playing is particularly impressive and really adds a whole extra dimension to the music, while the vocals are a potent mix of plaintive and grim and complement the dark, intricate songs beautifully. This was a late-year release and, given some more spins, it will likely rise on this list.

15. SATAN - Cruel Magic

It is rare that a band can pull together their classic line-up the way that Satan did in 2013, let alone one that can then proceed to release three albums back-to-back that fall right in line with their old material. Cruel Magic is the latest of these and has all the hallmarks that made Satan great: finely-crafted heavy metal that is speedy and complex, organic production, and an overall sound that is truly their own. They may have only caught the tail-end of the NWOBHM but damn if they weren’t one of the scene’s best and it is heart-warming to see and hear them continuing the legacy 35 years later.

14. ABYSMAL GRIEF - Blasphema Secta

Abysmal Grief are Italian doom masters that create a sound that is heavy, gothic, creepy, and relentless all at once. Most songs are in the 8-9 minute range and are usually centered around a few core riffs, but the way the band build them up and vary them throughout really pulls the listener in. Keyboards are used quite a bit and to great effect, while the vocals range from mournful to menacing. The band has kept a very consistent style since day one, with only the production getting a little better with each release, and Blasphema Secta sounds both heavier and cleaner than anything prior.

13. STRIKER - Play to Win

Been following these stalwart Canucks since their debut EP a decade ago and I’m glad to see that they have continued to evolve and refine their sound with each new album. Play to Win is probably the most ‘commercial’ release to date, with tons of melody and big choruses, but there is still plenty of heaviness on tracks like “Heart of Lies” and “Summoner” to keep a nice balance. Striker has gotten really good at writing distinctive songs that aren’t just a collection of riffs but actual, well-constructed tunes.

12. BULLET - Dust to Gold

This Swedish quintet has been bashing it out for 15+ years and still manages to release an invigorating collection of hard rockin’ metal tunes. Stylistically, Dust to Gold covers a fair amount of ground, from heavy metal in the vein of Accept and Grave Digger to more upbeat rockers ala Krokus and AC/DC. The common denominator throughout is a sense of fun that is missing from entirely too many albums these days.

11. LEATHER - II

Leather’s powerful voice was always the thing that raised Chastain from a good band to a great one and I’m pleased to report that she sounds just as good in 2018 as she did in 1988. The opening track “Juggernaut” is one of the best speed metal songs I have heard in a while and the rest of the album is consistently good, too. Shades of Dio and Priest color the wide range of tunes here and the band turn in some excellent, spirited performances. Glad to see Leather back on the scene and, as much as I enjoyed the Chastain reunion records, I think this one is even better.

10. HAUNT - Burst Into Flame

Although I enjoyed the first Haunt EP, the full-length debut really takes it up a notch. This is classic, old-school heavy metal that reminds me a bit of the first couple of Cauldron albums, with some wonderful dual-guitar work thrown in for good measure. The vocals are clean but remarkably restrained compared to some of the screamers out there, making for a nice change of pace. Songs “Reflectors” and “Burst Into Flame” have a haunting (ahem) timelessness to them and the album flows really well from start to finish.

9. THE NIGHT FLIGHT ORCHESTRA - Sometimes the World Ain't Enough

Despite featuring members of Soilwork and Arch Enemy, this is a long, long way from death metal, melodic or otherwise. Although the band’s first effort had a distinctly late-70s hard rock vibe to it, each record since has taken the listener deeper into the world of 80s AOR. Unlike a lot of the sterile, radio-friendly acts from that actual era, NFO bring a warmth and heartfelt approach that really brings the music alive. This is the band’s fourth album and probably their weakest, but it still stands well above the average album of 2018. Songs like “Turn To Miami” and “Pretty Thing Closing In” are immediate, timeless classics.

8. THE CROWN - Cobra Speed Venom

Although Deathrace King is still one of my top 5 death metal records of all time, The Crown never really were able to duplicate its genius. Cobra Speed Venom, however, comes damn close. It has all the brutality that the band is known for but brings back a lot of the punky/thrash energy and memorable riffs that have been missing for a while. The first three songs might be the best start to any album this year; just relentless, mayhemic brilliance. Top it off with one of the coolest and most original album covers I’ve seen in a while, along with three bonus tracks that are actually worth adding, and you have one hell of a return to form.

7. SAXON - Thunderbolt

Saxon certainly made some missteps in the late 80s, but I can’t think of another band that has remained as true to form over the years, while also consistently putting out quality albums and touring relentlessly. Thunderbolt is no Wheels of Steel or even Call To Arms, but it is still a solid record that is as good or better than the last couple. From the melodic timelessness of “The Secret of Flight” to the moody “Nosferatu (The Vampire’s Waltz)” to the raging “They Played Rock and Roll,” there is also a diversity rivaled only by Priest on this list.

6. BLACK OATH - Behold the Abyss

When it comes to true, epic, soul-crushing doom metal, Black Oath have become true masters. I have been following this band since the Portrait of the Dead single back in 2010 and am pleased to say they just keep going from strength to strength. Behold the Abyss balances a lush production, clean vocals, and plenty of melody, with dreadnought riffage and blissfully dark, esoteric lyrics. A rich, dynamic work of black art.

5. SIGN OF THE JACKAL - Breaking the Spell

This amazing Italian band has created a style that is equal parts early 80s Warlock and late 80s Judas Priest. Great, driving metal tunes that sometimes border on speed metal with plenty of screaming solos and hooky choruses. The recording, the mix, the energy, everything about this record is incredibly old-school and authentic, right down to the 32-minute running time.

4. AUDREY HORNE - Blackout

Ever since these Norwegian rockers abandoned all pretense and went full-on retro with their Youngblood album, I have been hooked. They compose hard-hitting rock tunes with tons of hooks and Lizzy-esque harmonies that give a nod to metal and punk without really being either. The first three songs - “This is War,” “Audrevolution,” and “Blackout” - are all perfectly built and give a great cross-section of the band’s diverse sound. Toschie’s vocals are as unique as his fashion sense and, as much as I loved the last two records, I think this one may be their best yet.

3. BRAINSTORM - Midnight Ghost

Brainstorm has long since perfected their style (as far back as Soul Temptation, some fifteen years ago), and each new release is really just varying levels of execution. As good as Scary Creatures was a couple years back, Midnight Ghost is truly brilliant and may possibly take the title as my favorite Brainstorm outing. All of the usual plusses are in place - great production, top-notch musicianship, catchy tunes - but the songs themselves are just a tad bit more finely honed and memorable. “Ravenous Minds” and “When Pain Becomes Real” in particular are killer and there is nary a dull moment here.

2. IMMORTAL - Northern Chaos Gods

My first Immortal record was At the Heart of Winter and it is still my favorite black metal album, hands down. The combination of raw, icy riffs with the mind-blowing drumming and just enough melody to keep it all together was/is intoxicating. Immortal has never done a bad album, but some are definitely better than others and Northern Chaos Gods is one of the best ones. The ferocity is up there with Pure Holocaust and Demonaz’s vocals, while not quite as distinctive as Abbath’s, fit the music perfectly. The band wisely took their time to put this record together and the results speak for themselves.

1. JUDAS PRIEST - Firepower

Priest has been one of my favorite metal bands since I first got into them back in ’82 and they are still right up there with Sabbath, Accept, and Mercyful Fate, with a catalog that is as diverse as it is brilliant. After the disappointing Nostradamus and good-but-not-great Redeemer of Souls, it was a real pleasure to hear Firepower, a true, all-guns-blazing Priest record. The production is 1000% better than anything they have released in the last two decades and the material is both diverse and top-notch. Songs like “Firepower,” “Never the Heroes,” “Children of the Sun,” and “No Surrender” have such a classic sound to them and Rob has not sounded this good since Painkiller. Even the weakest tracks (“Lone Wolf” and “Sea of Red”) have grown on me a bit, so I am confident that Firepower will go down in history as one of the band’s crowning achievements.

I must also mention some very impressive EPs, demos, and singles that were released this year, namely those from CIRITH UNGOL, ROUGH SPELLS, ÜLTRA RAPTÖR, PULVER, SIGNIFICANT POINT, TENTATION, ANCIENT SÉANCE, SABÏRE, and OCCULT BURIAL. If you aren’t familiar with any of these bands or haven’t heard their latest, I highly recommend getting acquainted immediately.

As usual, my list could have gone on much longer, but here are the bands that just missed the top 20: AMORPHIS, AURA NOIR, BEHEMOTH, BLACK REBEL MOTORCYCLE CLUB, BLACK VIPER, BLADE KILLER, CAULDRON, DIMMU BORGIR, DREAM CHILD, GOAT WORSHIP, GRAHAM BONNETT BAND, IRON ANGEL, KHEMMIS, KRISIUN, NIGHT VIPER, PRIMAL FEAR, PROFESSOR BLACK, RIOT V, SABOTER, SKULL FIST, SUBSTRATUM, TAD MOROSE, VISIONS OF ATLANTIS, VULCAIN, WHITE WIZZARD, WITCHFYRE, and WYTCH HAZEL.

What is on the horizon for 2019? Well, I am already psyched about the new ones from CANDLEMASS, DELAIN, ROCK GODDESS, FLOTSAM & JETSAM, CHAINBREAKER, SOILWORK, WITHIN TEMPTATION, MORTAL SCEPTER, HAMMERFALL, and TYTUS, plus possible releases from SACRED REICH, DEATH ANGEL, and EXCITER all have me really looking forward to the coming twelve months. The world is crumbling around us, but at least the metal scene is stronger than ever!

#best of 2018 #judas priest #immortal #brainstorm #audrey horne #sign of the jackal #black oath #saxon #the crown #the night flight orchestra #haunt #leather #bullet #striker #abysmal grief #satan #witching hour #lucifer #artillery #perpetrator #burning witches