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raccoon-writings · 2 years ago

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The Effect of Cubicles an essay about my chemical romances song cubicles:

My Chemical Romance released I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love in 2002. It’s a messy yet passionate start to kick off their catalog of concept albums. Lyrically, Bullets reads like an anthology. Telling tales of two lovers, addicted and infected, by pills and vampires, until death do them part when they are shot dead. It has a variety of stories and goes through many different moods. All set in a punk rock, basement recorded world.

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Because of its variety, it's not uncommon to hear any of the songs off it as someone’s favorite My Chemical Romance song. Though one song always sparks controversy- “Cubicles.” It has a polarizing reputation, with one side loving its embrace of loneliness and the path to get there. The other side only hearing overdone emo whining.

The album begins with “Romance,” an acoustic guitar intro. From there, the second song builds with sharp distorted electric guitar and classic punk drumming, taking us into the terrorized, angry heart of the album. The records A-side follows two lovers fighting to stay alive in a world of vampires while learning to trust each other. “Drowning Lessons” shows these lovers as one kills the other time and time again. When we reach the end of the A-side we get the first song solely about this rough sketch of a main character, “Headfirst for Halos.”

Set with high pace anger and poignant quiet sections, the album has a consistent drama. Even though most songs are different in how they express that drama, the whole picture stays cohesive with its intensity. Two songs, “Early Sunsets Over Monroeville'' and “Demolition Lovers,” travel through crescendos that build slowly throughout the entire song. While others like “Our Lady of Sorrows” and “Headfirst for Halos” stay at an in-your-face tempo. The individual stories in each song are fully committed to. That consistent intensity is what makes Bullets work so well.

When the listener reaches the B-side, they find not another short story, but “Skylines and Turnstiles.” It’s about 9/11. It’s an offering of consolation with depictions of what singer, Gerard Way, saw that day. It's the only other song set unarguably in the real world. Yet it still fits it nicely into the album by staying with the drama. Additionally, its placement as the first B-side recognizes how different the story being told is compared to the others. It’s a thematic break, a checkpoint. The listener has to manually flip over the record and replace the needle to get to it.

After two more fiction-based songs, we now reach “Cubicles.” Placed right after one of the most genuinely happy songs, and right before on the most storybook intense songs. It’s the second to last song on the album. “Cubicles” is about the unnoticed writer and his crush. Detailing an office romance that never was, as the love interest switched jobs before the character has the courage to make a move. Its stakes are shockingly low as Way details photocopying and sterile views. Similar to the other two crescendoing songs, it too builds into a declaration of wanting to die alone.

“Cubicles” presents the listener with another tonal shift. It disrupts the onslaught of fantasy to show a dull reality. “Cubicles” romance is already on a small scale and when compared to the other songs, it’s almost comical. After it establishes itself as being lower stakes, the statement piece kicks in, “I think I’m gonna die alone.” It inflates itself by claiming that it is as big as the others. The other crescendoing songs had the stakes to pull this off, “Cubicles” doesn’t. It values this feeling, this longing and awkward pain, on the same level as loss and addiction. But maybe that’s part of the point.

The character realizes at the end of the song that these little life moments can be pieced together to be this overwhelming thing that takes over his life. He’s not just speaking about the one crush, it’s the many others that have also been replaced. While a lot of the verse lyrics focus on the daydreams of the writer, the chorus emphasizes what took away the love interest. It’s a short chorus with a subtle message about their non-stop corporate workplace. The three-by-four workers are constantly being replaced creating this emotional hole. “It happens all the time.” As Alice Maney puts it,

“Like to the system, everyone is just a cog in the machine, but for the people working in the system it matters who’s next to them, they create social connections that get ripped away and replaced.”

This gives the song more depth. It’s not just about insignificant crushes, it’s about the overarching nature of his workplace. It’s able to take something small and see the connections to the rest of his life.

Let’s look at Bullets without Cubicles for a minute. This makes nearly every song have a fictional or life threatening story to them. All of the songs are so saturated in theatrics that at some point it can become a blur. The intensity solidifies its identity but it also makes this high point of tension flat line.. There’s nothing to shock the listener back.

“Cubicles” shatters that and makes it bigger. Theatrical and down to earth. It’s the only honest song about a boring life. Where the romances aren’t star-crossed, they’re watercooler. Where they don’t end with being shot in the desert, they’re constantly ending when people quit and are replaced. It makes the album theatrical and down to earth.

“[It’s like] wanting romance and a real connection but everyone sucks and nothing ever works out so you just kill that dream but doing so you kill a large part of yourself and living doesn’t feel worth it anymore- and then it kicks into “Demolition Lovers”.”

Says Summer Johnson.

And yet these huge revelations about the character can be born out of his mundane job. Only then does the song aggregate into a complicated tragedy. We see a normal man descend into loneliness. This carries us into the grand finale of the album, a six minute epic where the lovers are murdered once again. “Cubicles” amplifies the climax creating a certain kind of finality to the deaths that can’t be achieved without it. It breaks the cycle to prepare the listener for this instead of just having the last song glaze over.

“Cubicles” is a break from all of the fiction to hear about the guy who might as well be daydreaming the whole album. In comparison it might feel whiny but it breaks up the album to re-engage the listener before sending them off to the last song. It's not the most well-crafted My Chemical Romance song but it doesn’t have to be for its place on Bullets to be undeniable.

a/n: thank you for reading! quotes by me friendz <33

#my chemical romance #mcr bullets #mcr #my chem #i brought you my bullets you brought me your love #gerard way #frank iero #ray toro #mikey way #mcr essay #i love my frenz

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miserablesme · 4 years ago

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The Les Miserables Changelog Part 5: 1992 UK Tour

Hello, everyone! This is the latest edition in my attempt to chronicle all of the musical and lyrical changes which the show Les Miserables has undergone over the years. Much like the last part, this one focuses on changes made not to the official libretto, but to one particular production: namely, the 1992-1994 UK tour. However, in contrast to the last part, the vast majority of these changes at least made it elsewhere at some point. This will be a bit longer than Part 4, but still shorter than any of the first three parts. With all that cleared up, let us begin!

Like the West End production before it (more on that later), the UK tour swapped these lines from "At the End of the Day":

What is this fighting all about?

Will someone tear these two apart?

He thus instead sings:

Will someone tear these two apart?

What is this fighting all about?

The first noticeable difference original to this production occurs during "Lovely Ladies". Originally after Fantine's "Ten francs will save my poor Cosette", there was a rather complex section in which the sailors and prostitutes sung different lines simultaneously. It went as follows:

(SAILORS - simultaneously with prostitutes' lines)

Lovely lady, fastest on the street

Wasn't there three minutes

She was back up on her feet

Lovely lady, what you waiting for

Doesn't take a lot of savvy just to be a whore

Come on lady, what's a lady for?

(PROSTITUTES - simultaneously with sailors' lines)

Lovely ladies, lovely little girls

Lovely ladies, lovely little ladies

Lovely girlies, lovely little girls

We are lovely, lovely girls

Lovely ladies, what's a lady for?

The UK tour totally reimagines this scene as an exchange between a prostitute and a pimp:

(PROSTITUTE)

God I'm weary, sick enough to drop

Belly burns like fire

Will the bleeding never stop?

(PIMP)

Cheer up dearie, show a happy face

Plenty more like you, dear

If you can't keep up the pace

(PROSTITUTE)

Only joking, dearie knows her place

This is quite a massive departure from the original! I imagine it would be quite a bit easier to get right given that it involves only two actors, neither of whose dialog overlaps the other (in contrast to the original scene with an entire ensemble of actors with distinct but simultaneous lyrics and tunes). It's hard for me to decide what I prefer. Thematically, the revised version is better, given that it makes the negative and exploitative aspects of prostitution quite a bit clearer than the original. However, lyrically I prefer the original somewhat simply for the sake of consistency. The sick prostitute scene, as it's sometimes been called, is the only point in the entire song where that chorus is used without some variation of the words "lovely ladies". Feels a little out-of-place to me.

"Fantine's Arrest" also gets different lyrics - for a time, at least. I have two different audios from the UK tour, from April and December 1992 respectively. The December audio reverts to the original lyrics for Bamatabois (though not for Fantine). I wonder whether or not someone just forgot to tell the replacement Bamatabois about the lyrical edit, or if it was a conscious choice to revert the scene? I also wonder if the year-plus of the tour after that performance kept the original lyrics or put the new ones in again. Regardless, this is how the exchange between Fantine and Bamatabois originally went:

(BAMATABOIS)

Is this a trick? I won't pay more

(FANTINE)

No, not at all

(BAMATABOIS)

You've got some nerve, you little whore

You've got some gall!

It's the same with a tart as it is with a grocer

The customer sees what he gets in advance

It's not for the whore to say "yes sir" or "no sir"

It's not for the harlot to pick or to choose

Or to lead me a dance

The UK tour initially revised the sequence into the following:

(BAMATABOIS)

Is this a trick? I won't pay more

(FANTINE)

I won't have you

(BAMATABOIS)

You've got some sauce, you ugly slut

You've got some gall!

What's become of the world when a whore from the gutter

Can suddenly get such ideas in her head?

Your job is to lie on your back for your betters

This hideous harlot believes she can choose

Who she takes to her bed

I guess the revised lyrics feel a bit more threatening, as well as a little less contrived. (Who the hell has ever actually used the phrase "lead me a dance"?) Still, I prefer the original ones because the rhyme scheme feels a lot more natural.

More changes occur during "The Runaway Cart". The original (rather clunky) conversation among the townspeople was as follows (with each line separate due to being said by a different person than the previous one):

Look at that

It's Monsieur Fauchelevent

Don't approach

Don't go near

At the risk of your life

He is caught by the wheel

Oh the pitiful man

Stay away

Turn away

There is nothing to do

The UK tour rewrites most of the scene into the following:

Look at that

Stay away

You'll be crushed by the cart

Don't approach

Don't go near

It'll fall on you too

Oh my god, who is that?

It's Monsieur Fauchelevent

He is caught by the wheel

Oh the pitiful man

There is nothing to do

A far more natural progression in my humble opinion, and less repetitive as well.

The later scene involving the townspeople doesn't actually include any lyrical changes. However, like the West End production before it (more on that later), it does take lines that were previously in the singular into ensemble lines. The sequence was generally being performed as follows:

(MALE TOWNSPERSON)

Don't go near him, Monsieur Mayor

The load is as heavy as hell

(FEMALE TOWNSPERSON)

The old man is a goner for sure

(MALE TOWNSPERSON)

It will kill you as well

The UK tour instead staged it as follows:

(MALE TOWNSPERSON)

Don't go near him, Monsieur Mayor

(ENSEMBLE)

The load is as heavy as hell

(FEMALE TOWNSPERSON)

The old man is a goner for sure

(ENSEMBLE)

It will kill you as well

This ensemble business, which was already being used in the West End at the time, is an interesting callback, perhaps, to the pre-Broadway libretto in which much of the segment was sung by the ensemble. Personally I consider this edit an improvement. It feels far more frantic when the entire crowd is involved in the scene.

Once Valjean actually saves Fauchelevent, his lines are originally as follows:

Monsieur Le Maire, I have no words

You come from God, you are a saint

The UK tour changes them into the following:

Monsieur Le Maire, I have no words

You saved my life, you come from God

I guess the rewrite makes the reason for Fauchelevent's gratitude clearer, though it was already perfectly clear to begin with. The edit certainly doesn't hurt anything though.

The preamble to "Master of the House" retains the original "Hell, what a wine" instead of the post-Broadway "God, what a wine" edit.

Similarly, the "Waltz of Treachery" number has Thenardier ask the original "Have we done for your child what is best?" instead of the post-Broadway "her child".

A slight variation can be heard after the “Waltz of Treachery”. Usually Little Cosette asks:

Will there be children

And castles to see?

However, in the UK tour she instead asks:

Will there be castles

And children to see?

This variation also occurs in some early post-Broadway West End performances, and in the Complete Symphonic Soundtrack. I’d be interested to know whether or not that soundtrack may have inspired the choice during the UK a tour.

Interestingly, “Look Down” reverts an exchange back from the 1987 libretto into the original pre-Broadway version. Perhaps drawing from the West End show which was still using the original variant of this particular moment, the sequence officially sung by the ensemble as follows as follows:

When’s it gonna end

When’re we gonna live

Something’s gotta happen now or

Something’s gotta give

Because, as it was originally written, sung by one person at a time:

When’s it gonna end

When’re we gonna live

Something’s gotta happen, dearie

Something’s gotta give

My thoughts on the two variants can be seen in Part 3 of this blog.

Like the Australian tour, the UK tour has Thenardier say "God rewards all the things that you do" during "The Robbery" instead of "the good that you do".

Also, for some reason Thenardier refers to "the brand across his chest" instead of "upon his chest" later in the number.

The UK tour borrows the revised lyrics to “Stars” from the Australian tour and the West End production. Instead of the original lyrics:

A fugitive running

Fallen from grace, fallen from grace

It used these ones:

A fugitive running

Fallen from God, fallen from grace

Instead of these lines:

He knows his way in the dark

But mine is the way of the Lord

And those who follow the path of the righteous shall have their reward

It uses the shortened variants:

He knows his way in the dark

Mine is the way of the Lord

Those who follow the path of the righteous shall have their reward

Finally, instead of these lines:

And so it has been

And so it is written

It used these ones:

And so it must be

And so it has written

You can read my thoughts on all those differences in Part 4 of this blog.

The next noticeable difference occurs at the beginning of “Red and Black”. Previously the song opened with the beginning chords. However, the UK tour added a short musical sting before these chords. If I’m not mistaken, this musical addition was placed in to account for a change in staging. Originally the number began with the barricade set sliding off-stage, revealing the ABC cafe set behind it. However, around the time of this tour the blocking was adjusted. Now, the turntable instead revolved at the beginning of this number, revealing the ABC cafe set on the other end of the turntable and allowing the barricade set to double as the walls of the cafe. I believe the opening sting was added to allow time for this slightly more elaborate staging.

Additionally, as was the case in the West End at the time, no one shouts Enjolras' name during the instrumentals to "Red and Black".

In “Red and Black”, Enjolras usually sings:

We need a sign

To rally the people, to call them to arms

To bring them in line

However, the UK tour replaces it with the following lines:

We need a sign

To rally the people, to fire their blood

And to bring them in line

I guess “fire their blood” has a certain idealistic flair that fits Enjolras’ character, but I still definitely prefer the usual lyric. It conveys the message a lot more directly.

After the number, this is Enjolras’ original remark regarding General Lamarque’s passing:

On his funeral day they will honor his name

It’s a rallying cry that will reach every ear

In the death of Lamarque we will kindle the flame

They will see that the day of salvation is near

The time is here…

The UK tour rewrites those lines into the following:

On his funeral day they will honor his name

With the light of rebellion ablaze in their eyes

From their candles of grief we will kindle our flame

On the tomb of Lamarque shall our barricades rise

The time is here…

Though there’s a bit less rhyming in the revision, it strikes me as somewhat nicer and less clunky-sounding. The sentences’ subjects no longer feel all over the place, and the phrasing is far more poetic.

As with “Look Down”, some lyrics to “The Attack on Rue Plumet” are reverted to their original form (which was also still used in the West End at the time). Thenardier’s official lyrics following Eponine’s scream were as follows:

You wait my girl, you’ll rue this night

I’ll make you scream, you’ll scream alright!

Leave her to me, don’t wait around

Make for the sewers, go underground

The UK tour brought them back to this form:

Make for the sewers, don’t wait around

Leave her to me, go underground

You wait my girl, you’ll rue this night

I’ll make you scream, you’ll scream alright!

You can read my thoughts on these variants in Part 3 of this blog.

As with the Australian tour, Philip Quast changes “we’ll be ready for these schoolboys” into “I will join these little schoolboys” in “One Day More”. Unlike the Australian tour, the UK tour would maintain this variant even after Philip left. You can read my thoughts on this variant in Part 4 of this blog.

That’s it for the first act! The first noticeable difference occurs right before “A Little Fall of Rain”. Instead of opening with the beginning music, the UK tour added a short musical interlude beforehand. In my opinion, this music sounds terrible and feels extremely out-of-place. I wonder whether or not there was some change in staging to account for these extra notes.

After Enjolras' "Night of Anguish", the instrumental music is edited. Originally the number was followed by the same tune which would later be heard in "Drink with Me". However, the UK tour replaced it with a reprise of the tune of "A Little Fall of Rain". This is one of my least favorite edits for the tour. The original music felt highly emotional, and, since it predicted a later number, it implies the sense that, despite Eponine's death, there is more to come and the revolution is far from over. I'd argue that simply reprising a song that just happened suggests a degree of closure that is not appropriate for its context.

Everything is as usual right up until the epilogue. As with the Australian tour, the UK tour uses the “I’ll lead you to salvation” line instead of “And lead me to salvation” for Fantine and Eponine. You can read my thoughts on that change in Part 4 of this blog.

That’s it for this part! If I missed anything feel free to let me know, as my goal is to create a changelog as thorough and complete as possible. I plan on making more parts in the near future covering all the changes that have been made in the show up until this day (discounting concerts). Any feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated. As a side note, both for this project and my own enjoyment, I want as complete a collection of Les Miserables audios as possible. I already have most of what’s commonly circulated, but if you have any audios or videos you know are rare, I’d love it if you DMed me! Until the turntable puts me at the forefront again, good-bye…

#les mis #les miz #les miserables #musical #1992 #changelog #the les miserables changelog #through the years #valjean #javert #fantine #cosette #marius #eponine #thenardier #gavroche #part 4 #blog #long post

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hazzabeeforlou · 5 years ago

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Walls Masterpost

It’s the 28th of pride month, and fitting to post this now. The soul of Walls is the unabashed, fierce, tender, and brave love of a man who has shown for years that he is proud. This album isn’t a cohesive story line, nor do I think it’s even the album Louis envisioned himself putting out. He only flirts with true indie music like that of his idols; Always You is a pop masterpiece, TOU is a ballad, and Perfect Now a love song in the style of Little Things. The album is a collection of letters each addressed to a singular recipient, personal, self-searching, blunt, too vulnerable to be easy listening (if you really listen). Walls shows us the scope of Louis’ capacity for love. It’s the culmination of years of pain, heartbreak, and hope, written with the raw honestly of an archeologist stumbling upon his own personal memoirs.

Please feel free to ask questions if any of the technical stuff is confusing, and remember these are my interpretations as a classically trained musician. I will use the name “Subject” for the implied “you” in each of Louis’ songs.

Kill My Mind: in F minor. The verses are i VII IV, the tiny bridge IV III I (?), and the chorus is VII IV I, repeat.

There are two oddities about this. First, in a natural minor key, the forth chord is minor (iv) but Louis keeps this B flat chord in major, changing the D flat to a D natural. Secondly, in the chorus, Louis changes from using a minor one chord to a major one. He raises the A flat to an A natural as he sings “Raise my body [A natural here] back to life.” This bit of text painting not only illustrates his words, but lends the song an off kilter feel, confusing the key signature between F minor and B flat Major (which has an A and D natural).

Kill My Mind is Louis’ only ‘drugs’ song on the album, and I say that both because the metaphor is obvious and because he uses that obvious metaphor to compare addiction to a relationship. It reminds me, lyrically, of Back To You, and, like that song, could easily be interpreted as about a controlling force in his life on whom he’s become dependent, or a lover.

Don’t Let It Break Your Heart: this is easily in the key of B flat Major. The verses are I IV vi 6/4 V 6/4, the bridge vi vi V IV vi V, the chorus same as the verses, I IV vi 6/4 V 6/4.

This is Louis’ most hopeful track, and is so clearly about grief. Much has been made of the first line “on our way to twenty seven” being a reference to the 27 Club, a cultural phenomenon of icons/musicians/artists that die at that age due to fame/high risk lifestyle, but Louis then says they’re “doing better,” implying that both he and Subject are in this category. The rest of the song is him counseling and comforting Subject, empathizing with the hurt of loss, encouraging Subject, “Don’t let it kill you even when it hurts like hell.” He knows this pain, knows it deep, and knows that it takes time to heal.

Two Of Us: IV I V iv V IV I V vi V. This progression is the same for both verses and chorus. The bridge is a bit hard to decipher as it moves in 3rds and not triads, something like IV V vi V vi V.

Not much needs to be said about this song. It’s Louis’ beautiful ode to his mom, and he sings it with incredible vulnerability and heart.

We Made It: this is the revolving door song. One progression is used, IV I V iii, and repeats from start to finish. It keeps reminding me of Coldplay.

What’s interesting is that each chord functions as the subdominant or leading chord of the next, basically spinning us ever forwards so we never stop on a tonic home base. The E flat IV chord leads to the B flat I, the B flat I then functions as a IV chord to the V chord (F Major), then the D minor III chord functions as a major VII leading to a I of E flat (the beginning IV chord we started with in B flat Major) and the cycle repeats.

Louis leaked part of this song several years ago, and a line about moonlight replaced the “met you at your uni” section, interestingly. “Playing something pop’y on the same four chords, used to worry bout it but I don’t no more.” Young love. He remembers how it tasted. Subject was high on what? Adrenaline? Orgasm? It’s a tender reminiscence with a hint of tragedy, “don’t know why they put this all on us when were so young.”

Too Young: in E Major, the verses and chorus are IV I V vi (the vi is omitted at the cadences), the bridge is vi I V IV I V.

Louis is once again looking back, regretful. Louis doesn’t speak in metaphors, the lyrics are to the point and precise. He’s hurt Subject, he’s given in to pressures, he’s cut subject off... the “2 years since I’ve seen your face” of course doesn’t fit the chronology of the album, but rather of his public life, as does the previous song’s line of “met you at your uni.” It’s interesting, then, that while Louis takes the blame for so much, he still says ‘we were too young’ and not ‘I was too young,’ implying that Subject was at least partly to blame for the hurt too, if only by fault of immaturity.

Walls: This is in B Major. The chord progression for verses is

vi I vi I, V [V7 with the melody note on the E natural] IV V V7 II IV i6 (passing chord)

chorus, IV I V I6, IV I V III6 vi V II6 Vi ii I (IV I passing chords)

bridge, IV vi V, IV vi V, Vi vi III6 vi V II (this holds over til chorus)

This is Louis’ tour de force. Walls is as complex as it is beautiful. His use of Major II chords, altered from a normal ii chord in Major key signatures, and his use of a Major III chord (which, again, is minor in Major key signatures) adds an unconventional twist. The opening and closing lyrics, “nothing wakes you up like waking up alone,” are set against a sparse vi I; but you see the vi chord doesn’t normally go to I, usually ii, IV, and V have that role, so by using a vi to I Louis is showing us the tonic alone, nothing ‘surrounding’ it. This song is so complex and layered, and I would argue it’s the one song besides OTB that is ripe for poetic interpretation; on first glance the lyrics seem so obvious, but there’s the music video to consider, the metaphor of him being left alone, high on a wall that has not fallen down, a blank name tag on his chest. The door opening to a desert on one side and a bullseye masquerade on the other has no happy implications, yet Louis has become a man through it all, he says, and he has no regrets about letting his walls crumble for love, damn the consequences he’s suffered.

Habit: in G Major, the verses are I ii IV I, the bridge vi V IV I vi V IV ii7, the chorus I ii IV (vi V added when leading to next verse). Interestingly, in the verse that says “come so far from Princess Park,” the repeated line “in front of me, in front of me” adds two chords to the verse, between the IV and I, a vi and V.

Like in too young, this is an apology, and Louis lays out his sins plainly. And while it’s unequivocal, we can see the extenuating circumstances: “took some time ‘cause I ran out of energy playing someone I heard I’m supposed to be.” There is no more damning line of lyrics. Louis has been exhausted holding some line, an invisible current through his music that he never truly addresses, yet always its there, a background character, a force of cruel divinity. “Don’t know why they put this all on us when were so young.” “I’m too far gone to pray.”

Always You: This song could conquer radio in half a heartbeat, given a chance. It’s in E Major, verses are I vi IV, chorus is I vi IV, the same.

This is world tour of missing Subject, this is Miss You but rephrased, reworked, gone from punk to pop princess. We have Amsterdam, Tokyo, LAX, Heathrow, which speak for themselves. “My baby,” Louis quotes over and over. He’s been “chasing a high,” and I’m reminded of the high in We Made It, “baby you were still high.” Orgasm? Adrenaline? Love?

Fearless: A minor. Verses, i VII VI (added VI VII when leading back to verse), bridge is i V VI (III VII passing chords can be heard) i V VI VII

Now the very short chorus (”fearless, fearless,”) is, if we stick to A minor, III, III4/2, i, VI. I think, however, that at this point the piece modulates, going from A minor to C Major, (A minor is the relative minor of C Major, which means that the two keys share a key signature and can go into and out of each other easily) making the progressions I I4/2 (4/2 is an inversion of a 7th chord) vi IV. Now to add complexity on top of that, having a I7 chord is incredibly unusual, so I wouldn’t label it that, I would label it a V4/2 of IV, meaning that C7 chord functions as a cadential chord leading to F, or the IV chord, of C Major. This is all rather complicated, but knowing how it was constructed shows the song’s complexity. The final “fearless, fearless” progression then is: I, V4/2 of IV, vi, VI.

In this song I believe Louis’ Subject is himself. it’s a song about fame and anxiety and the lost innocence (and gutsiness) of youth. It’s a brutal song that I doubt Louis would write to anyone besides himself given how he focuses solely on his own faults and doesn’t lay anything at the feet of his other Subjects. The laughing children heard fist and last are a cutting effect.

Perfect Now: D Major. Verses, I I7 [again this is technically a V7 of IV, and functions as that since it leads to IV] IV6/4 iv6/4

bridge, iii vi ii vi

chorus, IV V I IV V I, IV V I IV I

second bridge, V vi IV I, V vi IV vi (then to chorus)

This is a strange little song, perhaps its most unusual quirk being the switch from a Major IV chord to a minor iv chord in the verse. The Subject in this song loves to dance, and I’m reminded of KMM. Subject isn’t just not feeling pretty, they’re depressed, they are reticent to be looked upon (”don’t hide away”) they are a crown-less queen, and tears are the norm. Subject has a platform - everyone is looking at them - and is a scene stealer, charismatic without trying. I’ve attempted and failed to understand this song in any way other than that Subject is dealing with dysphoria, and that this is Louis’ ode to their perfection, an affirmation of an identity that perhaps can only be realized in private. It is in this interpretation that the Major to minor flip of the 4 chord makes me absolutely crumble into pieces.

Defenceless: C flat Major (a most unusual key for a pop song). Verses are I V6 vi IV, bridge IV vi I V, chorus is IV vi I V (the falsetto second bridge is the same)

Defenceless is Louis at his most honest. Who writes these lyrics in a pop song? “You don’t have to keep on being strong for me and you,” “just want to be loved by you,” “you don’t have a thing to prove,” “I’m too tired to be tough,” “Wish I didn’t need so much of you.” A moth to a flame is different from a moth to a light; immolation is a theme in love stories. This is too honest for a love song, and it feels intrusive just to listen. Louis has a deep love for Subject, an abiding care and need for them.

Only The Brave: E flat Major. Verse, I (IV I) IV I, I (IV I) IV I

Chorus is vi V IV I [ii iii IV V OR IV V IV V, I can’t determine because of the movement in 3rds] I

This song. I can only compare it to when I used to cry when I’d see speeches about gay love; I never understood why, but I just knew, in my heart, before my brain had figured it out yet, that I was the same. This song is that. It is so intrinsically gay, the metaphors are woven in every word, every nuance. Burn history, break rules, cry like a fool, close enough to touch... the church of burnt romances. “I’m too far gone to pray.” Love is only for the brave. Of course it takes a great deal of bravery to love anything completely, to face the prospect of loss knowing how that love will rip you apart. And in the end, some might say from the cradle to the grave you are ultimately alone. Yet Louis knows better than any that those you love are always with you, “even when I’m on my own, I know I won’t be alone.” I believe this song is Louis’ concluding thesis to an album filled to the brim with anecdotes of his own love, a gift to us speaking of the commonality he shares with the wider community, a history of brave love, of loneliness, of too many dying stars in the sky. The tall tales, only hello hello, no goodbye; we don’t focus on the goodbyes. We tell our stories with happy endings, but love, sometimes it doesn’t have those, for some of us it’s a solo song.

Louis Tomlinson, I’m sure there’s not a chance in a million you’ll ever read this but, if you do, I see you, we see you. You are so loved. Thank you for this album, thank you for giving us this gift of love. Continue your artistic journey and follow your heart. We’ll be here, because for us, it’s Always You.

#walls masterpost #mine #music analysis #lyric analysis #walls album #louis tomlinson #walls analysis

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sohotthateveryonedied · 5 years ago

Text

We Dream in the Dark, for the Most Part

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

Jason is in the middle of lathering his hair with shampoo when suddenly the lights go out, leaving him in darkness. An instinctive chill runs down his spine, only to be replaced with annoyance. Of course. Beyond the shower spray, he can hear Lian shriek in fear, followed by Roy muttering curses.

Jason sighs. “Roy?” he calls.

“Handling it!”

It was a grueling patrol, but Jason is relieved to be home. He missed having Roy by his side tonight, but their usual babysitter, Mrs. Peterson from next door, came down with pneumonia yesterday and canceled. She doesn’t seem to have any idea that her neighbors are vigilantes, but they pay her enough that she doesn’t ask. Lian is coloring at the coffee table while Jason toes off his boots, leaving them at the front door. She’s wearing her fluffy Stitch pajamas, which she’s been practically living in for the last week and a half. “Hey, princess.” Jason drops a kiss on top of her head as he passes. “Where’s your dad?” “In the kitchen. He’s playing with the electricity again.” “Oh, good. Because, you know, I was actually hoping our place would explode, just to spice things up.” Lian giggles. “Has he fed you yet?” She shakes her head, her black pigtails swinging back and forth. “Nope. But he promised me special sushi if I cleaned up all my books.” Jason will never understand Lian’s passion for her “special sushi,” which is just deli ham slathered in strawberry yogurt and rolled up like a spring roll from hell. Jason gets nauseated just thinking about it, but the kid loves the stuff. “And did you clean up?” Lian points over at the bookshelf against the wall. They don’t have a huge apartment by any means, but Jason insisted on dedicating an entire wall to his books. That was one of the conditions when Roy first asked Jason to move in with him and Lian. It took weeks of finagling to convince Jason to relinquish a small section of the bookshelf for Lian’s picture books, which are indeed all in their right places. “Then it looks like you’ve earned your sushi, little miss. I’m gonna shower first and then I’ll make it for you, alright?” “I can make it by myself.” Jason snorts. “After what happened last time? I don’t think so.” It was his own fault for thinking a five-year-old could prepare her own food. It took a solid hour to scrub the yogurt stains out of the carpet. Jason pokes his head in the kitchen on his way to the bathroom. “Tell me you’re not burning the building down.” “Okay, then I’m not burning the building down,” Roy says around the screwdriver trapped between his teeth. He stands in front of what was once a light switch, tinkering with something that he most definitely should not be tinkering with, but Jason is picking his battles today.

“I’m not going to bother telling you that you’re on your second strike with the landlord. If he has to come up here again, I’m not defending you.” “You know what I miss? The old days when people would greet each other by saying things like, ‘hi, sweetie, how was your day?’ ‘Oh, it was lovely, darling. How about a kiss after spending hours apart and missing each other dearly?’ ‘Babe, it’s like you read my mind!’ You know, stuff like that?” Jason arches an eyebrow. “I’ve got mobster blood caked in my hair. Still want a hello kiss?” “Not really, no. Go shower.” “Try not to blow a fuse in the meantime, please.” Roy salutes with his screwdriver. “Aye, aye, captain.” Jason goes to the bathroom and relishes in the feeling of peeling off his armor and the bodysuit underneath, every layer soaked with sweat and blood. It’s a good thing his Red Hood getup is all dark colors, or he’d have scarred Lian for life ten times over already. He turns the shower knob as hot as it’ll go, letting his muscles slowly unravel under the spray. He takes his time scrubbing off the blood and dirt, whistling some shitty pop song that Dick paid Barbara to blast through the comms all. Night. Long. Jason has plans to add that to his repertoire of torture techniques if he ever needs some extra edge. It’s definitely effective. Jason is in the middle of lathering his hair with shampoo when suddenly the lights go out, leaving him in darkness. An instinctive chill runs down his spine, only to be replaced with annoyance. Of course. Beyond the shower spray, he can hear Lian shriek in fear, followed by Roy muttering curses. Jason sighs. “Roy?” he calls. “Handling it!” Another sigh. This is what he gets for leaving Roy alone. It’s Jason’s own fault, really. He quickly rinses the shampoo from his hair and leaves the bathroom, and towel wrapped around his waist. He navigates the pitch black apartment and finds Roy lighting a match in the kitchen. He’s got Lian tucked in one arm. “What did I say?” Jason asks. “I know, I know—” “I said not to blow a fuse. That was your one job.” “Technically, I didn’t blow a fuse. I just overloaded the circuit and cut off the electricity for the whole building.” Jason smacks himself in the forehead. “Wonderful.” Remind him again why he’s in love with this man? “I’m sure it’ll be fixed in no time.” “You can’t see it, but I’m rolling my eyes.” “You’re overreacting. It’s just a little blackout.” “We have ice cream in the freezer.” “I’ll buy more.” Jason runs a hand through his wet hair. “You’re killing me, babe. Again.” “It’s just one night without power, right? I’m sure it’ll come back on in the morning.” He bounces Lian a little, who’s got her face buried in Roy’s neck. Poor thing is terrified of the dark. “What do you think, pumpkin? You think you can be brave for one little night in the dark?” “I don’t like it. It’s scary.” “I know it is, sweetheart. But do you want to know a secret?” He leans in close to her ear, mock-whispering, “Jaybird over here is afraid of the dark too.” Lian looks at Jason with wide eyes. “Really?” Roy nods. “Yep. But you know what? He’s so brave and strong that he overcame that fear and now it hardly bothers him anymore. Do you think you can be brave like that?” “I can be super brave.” “That’s my girl. Not, sit here for a minute, ‘kay?” He sets her down on the arm of the sofa. The match has fizzled out by now, leaving them in complete darkness. “I know I have some scented candles around here somewhere. Dinah keeps getting them as gifts and pushes them on me when she doesn’t like them.” Jason’s eyes widen. “Wait, watch out for the—” Roy trips with a shout, glass shattering as he falls. “—coffee table.” Roy just groans in response. “Hang on, let me get a light.” Jason makes his way to the drawer they keep the emergency flashlight in. He turns on the beam to show Roy on the floor, surrounded by glass shards and clutching his leg. There are several small cuts peppering his knee like he crawled on a beach made of broken bottles. Jason gasps. “Oh my god, Roy! You broke Lian’s crayons!” Roy flips him off, angling his hand so Lian can’t see. “I’m fine, thanks for asking.” Jason helps him up and hands him the flashlight. “Lian, honey, will you help him get to the couch? I need to put some clothes on.” And he’s almost positive there’s another flashlight somewhere in Roy’s nightstand. They’re going to need all the light they can get. Jason gets dressed and retrieves the flashlight, plus one of Lian’s Disney princess glow sticks. When he returns, Roy is on the couch with his leg propped up on what remains of their coffee table. Lian is shining the flashlight on her tiny first-aid kit which Kori gave her last Christmas. She sifts through her collection of band-aids. “One to ten?” “Barely a two,” Roy says. “I already dug the glass out, and none were deep enough to need stitches.” Jason checks him over anyway, just to be sure. He wipes away the blood and applies some ointment over the cuts. He turns to Lian when he’s finished. “Can I trust you to finish this up while I make dinner?” She nods enthusiastically. Perfect. Lian can keep herself busy plastering Roy in Hello Kitty bandages, and Jason will have time to figure out what the hell they’re doing, food-wise. “How do you expect to make dinner without electricity?” Roy asks, reading his mind yet again. “What, did you never have to eat cold leftover pizza in your million-dollar mansion growing up? Weird.” He dodges the pillow Roy throws his way, laughing. “Those jokes don’t count when you also grew up in a million-dollar mansion.” Thirty minutes later and the three of them are sitting on the couch, Roy and Jason eating cold mushroom casserole while Lian enjoys her ham and yogurt. Once you get over the temperature difference, cold casserole turns out to be just as tasty as hot casserole. Gordon Ramsey should take notes. Jason managed to track down the candles Roy was talking about earlier and set them in various places around the living room, lighting the room in a dim glow. It’s not perfect lighting by any means—not even good lighting, really, but at least no one will be falling into another coffee table anytime soon. Roy’s knee is covered in Hello Kitty band-aids, some of which are in spots that weren’t even cut up by the glass. Roy doesn’t seem to mind. Jason took a picture for potential blackmail reasons. “I’m bored,” Lian says after a while. “You could always go to bed,” Roy suggests, “given that your bedtime was fifteen minutes ago but your daddies are nice enough to let you stay up this long.” “That was nice of us,” Jason agrees. “I think we’ve earned a quiet night to ourselves.” Lian pouts. She grabs Jason’s arm, clinging to his bicep like a koala. “But it’s dark in my room.” “It’s dark in there every night.” “It’s really dark tonight. Can I stay here with you instead?” Her eyes are big and innocent, perfectly disguising the mischief lurking within. This girl could be a successful con artist one day. (Not that Jason or Roy will ever let that happen. She’s going to grow up and become a veterinarian or something equally harmless.) Roy and Jason meet eyes, having a silent conversation over Lian’s head. Finally, Roy sighs. “Fine. You can stay up with us a little longer, but only because of the blackout, okay? Don’t go thinking that this trick is going to work tomorrow night.” Lian claps her hands, bouncing in her seat. “Can I have coffee?” “Absolutely not.” She isn’t deterred in the slightest. “This is gonna be so fun! We can stay up all night long, even past midnight and three o’clock which is when the ghosts come out.” “Ghosts, huh?” Jason says. “Yeah, Aunt Stephanie told me all about it! Three o’clock is when the witching hour happens and witches and ghosts come out like Bloody Mary and Freddie Cougar and they call come into your house and walk around but you can only see them if you’re awake, which I’m gonna be because I’m not even tired, I could stay up all night long and for a million, bazillion years, and—” She lasts seven minutes. Lian is fast asleep now with her head in Roy’s lap, her tiny feet dangling off the arm of the sofa. Jason drapes a blanket over her, kissing her on the forehead. He’s careful not to jostle Roy’s bandaged leg as he takes a seat beside him, putting his arm around Roy’s shoulders. “Well, I’m fucking exhausted.” “It’s cool if you want to go to bed,” Roy says. “I don’t mind sticking around here with Lian until the power comes back on.” “Nah, it’s fine. I like it better in here, anyway.” In here, where the light is. Roy doesn’t comment on the hidden meaning that he definitely catches on to, and Jason loves him for it. He just kisses Jason’s cheek, settling against his side. Jason doesn’t mention the darkness thing often. Or at all. After all, grown men don’t get scared of the dark—especially when they live in a place like Gotham and were raised in a literal cave. But if Lian insists on having the hallway light on in addition to the night light next to her bed, then Jason isn’t about to discourage her. Roy never says a word about it. Every night he keeps the door to his and Jason’s bedroom cracked open just enough so a sliver of hallway light floods in, and it’s good for both of them, really. Jason feels safer with the light on, and they both feel safer being able to hear every creak and draft in the apartment, falling asleep knowing that nothing will sneak up on them. Even when Jason was living on his own, post-resurrection, he always kept a lamp on when he went to sleep in whichever safehouse he was squatting in that night. Back before he had a place to call home. On especially bad nights, he would turn on the lights in every single room, even the one in the microwave. Only then could he sleep soundly. He can’t exactly do that now, but he doesn’t need to. Whenever his head gets too heavy to bear, he’ll simply wrap his arms around Roy and fall back asleep to the sound of Roy’s heart beating under his ear. He falls back asleep in minutes. Jason isn’t entirely sure what caused the light issue in the first place. Sometimes he can’t remember if it arose before or after he was adopted by Bruce. Other times he’s sure it’s lingering trauma from the coffin, from waking up in pitch blackness six feet underground. No bearings, no sense of what was happening or where he was. The only thing in there with him was the thick, cloying darkness on every side of him. Jason shivers just thinking about it. “We should get her a new night light,” he says. “Battery powered, not a plug-in. It would be a good investment if you ever try destroying our electricity again.” Roy hums. “We can pick one up tomorrow. I need to take her clothes shopping anyway. And it might be a good idea to have a couple for the living room and bathroom so we don’t have a repeat of tonight.” “Good idea.” God, Jason’s craving a cigarette right now. Every nerve in his body urges him to get one and soothe the anxiety buzzing in his brain, but he has a rule against smoking in the apartment or anywhere near Lian. He’d settle for a beer instead, whatever keeps the buzzing at bay, but he doesn’t drink at home either out of respect for Roy’s sobriety. He’s stuck. Roy must notice Jason’s twitching fingers because he reaches into his pocket, careful not to wake Lian as he pulls out a stick of nicotine gum. “Here.” Jason unwraps the gum and shoves it in his mouth. He takes a deep breath in as he chews, letting it out slowly. It takes the edge off some, but not completely. Still, it’s better than nothing. “You’re just carrying these on you now?” "Came in handy, didn't it?" “And I thought Bruce was the king of being prepared for everything.” Jason straightens the wrapper until it’s flat like a card. He holds it over the nearest candle until it catches, watching the flame consume the paper, eating away at its edges. He blows it out just before it gets too close to his fingers. “When I was a kid,” he says after a minute, “my mom and I used to light candles like these. The heat would get turned off pretty often since she was usually too high to remember what day it was, let alone when the bills needed to be paid. But whenever it happened, she would send me to the store with a couple dollars and I’d buy a bag of marshmallows. We’d roast them over the candles and pretend we were camping.” “That sounds nice.” “It was. I mean, now I realize that it’s actually really fucking sad that we had to resort to candles ‘cause my mom wasted all her cash on drugs and couldn’t pay the heating bill. But at the time, it was nice. It’s one of the few good memories I have of that time.” He feels more than sees Roy’s fingers lacing through his own, clasping their hands together. “I was telling the truth earlier, you know. You’re brave and strong and badass all the way.” Jason snorts. “Even if I get freaked out every time the lights go out?” Roy doesn’t laugh with him. “Yeah, even then. And you know why?” He rests his head on Jason’s shoulder, lets Jason feel his warmth. “Because of all the things to be afraid of, you picked the one that can be fixed by just turning the lights on. Once you do that, there’s nothing left in the world that can scare you. And that’s pretty damn badass if you ask me.”

#whumptober 2020 #no.27 #power outage #jayroy #jason todd #red hood #robin #batman #roy harper #red arrow #arsenal #red hood and the outlaws #red hood/arsenal #lian harper #dc comics #fanfiction #fanfic

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cultofbeatles · 6 years ago

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beginners guide to the members of led zeppelin (kind of)

a disclaimer before anyone starts reading: we all know led zeppelin is shady as hell and we hardly ever get anything confirmed or denied around here. so some stuff is up for speculation. everything in this post are things i've read in books, heard in interviews, or got from some other source. when it comes to “facts about led zeppelin” sometimes you gotta take it with a grain of salt. but honestly it’s led zeppelin we’re talking about, anything is possible. also this is all in good fun and giggles. with that being said, let’s get started with introductions to the members themselves.

jimmy page

james patrick page

born on January 9, 1944

he’s a capricorn sun, cancer moon, and scorpio rising so you just know he’s a crazy motherfucker

was an amazing session guitarist and basically everyone wanted him

went to art school bc he’s just talented at everything i guess

if you didn't know already he played the guitar for Joe cocker’s ‘with a little help from my friends’

declined his first offer to join the yardbirds but later decided to join

was the last member to leave the group

basically was the leader of led zeppelin

was gifted a telecaster guitar by his friend jeff beck and he adored it

and he painted a cool dragon design on it

played on it for the first led zeppelin album

when he was on tour one of his friends painted over his dragon design and ruined the guitar

he produced all of led zeppelin’s albums and is responsible for the remastering of those same albums

paid for led zeppelin’s first album to be produced with his own money

deadass would have whips and handcuffs around with him on tour for the groupies

but was apparently an amazing lover and cared for the people he slept with

one time he got naked on a food cart thingy, put whip cream over his body, and had john bonham push him into a room with groupies in it

has such a small and soft voice

was fascinated in aleister crowley and his work

would collect crowely memorabilia

even bought crowley’s boleskine house

had a bookstore at one point so he could get books easier

struggled with addiction to drugs for most of the seventies

went on a liquid diet late seventies and refused to eat solid food

he got really skinny bc of it :(

miss pamela (one of his girlfriends/lovers) once said that jimmy cried on the phone to her over her playboy photoshoot lmaoo

once flied pamela’s pet raccoon in first class

allegedly had a relationship with lori maddox who was about 15 years old

laughed as two of his girlfriends were fighting each other

was kind of constantly nervous about his and the band’s image

has amazing guitar solos and improvisation but damn sometimes they drag on foreverrrr

deadass scared the shit out of david bowie so much that he had his house exorcised and would avoid jimmy at parties

we love demons

zoso

he’ll never tell us what zoso means and I'm mad

had two people die in his home. one was a friend who died from a drug overdose, and the other was john bonham when he died from choking on his vomit.

has been accused for the deaths of john bonham and robert plant’s son karac bc of that stupid “curse” rumor

deserves critiques for several things but doesn't deserve hate for that

has been through a lot and come out pretty okay

produced his current girlfriend’s, scarlett sabet, spoken poetry vinyl

check out scarlett’s work bc it’s amazing

would probably always be down for another led zeppelin reunion

robert plant

robert anthony plant

born on august 20, 1948

this is the most attractive man ever. do not argue with me.

nicknamed percy

wasnt jimmy’s first pick for a singer

jerry reid suggested robert to jimmy. and when jimmy asked what he looked like jerry said, “like a greek god.”

jimmy thought something was wrong with robert when he first found him bc he was such a good singer and hadn't been signed yet

after a practice together jimmy knew he had his singer

he would call robert “the young guy with the powerful voice.”

he thought about leaving the band early on bc he was so nervous about being in it

convinced john bonham to join the group bc they were the bestest of buddies

he’s not credited on the first album bc he was still under another contract

started song writing for the second album by jimmy’s memory

it didn't take long for him to gain confidence and start owning the stage

once when he was performing a dove flew in his hands

there’s an audio of him singing john bonham happy birthday and it makes me so happy

he would call himself a greek god

would party with john bonham a lot

kind of the hippy of the group

moans moans moans and even louder moans into the microphone

would wear women’s shirts and looked amazing in them

nurses do it better

not to mention his super tight jeans

we all know his dick is huge and he’s just showing it off

has the prettiest, fluffiest blonde hair

and the sweetest smile

can you tell that i find him attractive yet?

has a fear of earthquakes

also supposedly had some sort of a relationship to an underage groupie named sable starr (14)

also has a fear of led zeppelin nowadays

either fear or amnesia

it’s likely that he’s the reason we’ll never get another led zeppelin reunion

though a close friend thinks that if the show went to charity robert would probably do it

robert loved john bonham too much to play in led zeppelin without him

and i respect that a lot

no matter how much he’s offered for a show he turns it down every time

in 1975 he got in a severe car crash and ended up being in a wheelchair

still went on to record zeppelin’s album

once while recording on crutches and started to fall and jimmy apparently zoomed in to save him. robert never saw him move that fast before

his five year old son (karac) died from a sudden stomach illness while he was in america on tour

absolutely crushed him

was deeply upset that neither jimmy page or john paul jones reached out to him during that time of his life

john bonham was there for him though

robert apparently never forgave them for that

a car he was working on fell on top of him and crushed some of his ribs as well

late seventies was not a good time for robert plant

but he got through it all like a champ

hates stairway to heaven with a passion lmao

one time he paid a radio station a shit ton of money just to make sure they'd never play stairway to heaven again

almost didn't sing stairway for the 2007 reunion but ended up agreeing to it after all

he said he breaks out in hives when he has to play that song

he and jimmy made their own symbols. robert’s is the feather inside the circle

in 2007 he won beard of the year

john bonham

born on may 31, 1948

nickname is bonzo

oh boy, there’s a lot of stories about bonzo

he was known as the nicest and sweetest guy ever

unless he was drunk

he drank a lot :/

denied jimmy’s offer to join the group and continued to deny it until robert convinced him

once flew the starship (led zeppelin’s plane) even though he didn't have a license to

hated touring so much

he always missed his family

so he drank

he was so damn crazy when drunk that the other members would book rooms floors above where his was so he wouldn't disturb them

tore about his hotel rooms like no other

he has a son named jason bonham who he loved a lot

bought him a nice drum kit when he was younger

jason is just about led zeppelin’s biggest fan next to jimmy page

one time bonzo broke a girl’s vibrator when drunk

also punched a girl in the face when drunk once bc she waved at him

partly responsible for the famous mud shark story where a girl was apparently fucked with a dead shark by him and zeppelin’s tour manager

liked cars a lot

really really loved his family. cannot stress it enough

was irked that john paul jones got out of playing shows during the christmas holiday and he didn't

punched robert in the face once too

him and john paul jones equals the best rhythm section ever

jimmy would call it magic how well him and bonzo got along

bonzo could handle anything jimmy threw at him

he wasn't really a part of it, but he had to go to jail bc peter grant and two other dudes almost killing a man (long story omfg, but apparently the doctors had to put the dude’s eyeball back into his socket)

was there for robert when karac died

they were really good friends

there’s an interview with them together where bonzo is laughing at robert about his little farm

gave good hugs apparently

played drums like no other could and knew he was good

but still sometimes got insecure and got upset when someone he looked up to said his drumming wasn't all that special

his symbol is the three rings and he picked it out of a book like john paul jones did his

he died in jimmy page’s house (not the crowley house btw)

he had to drink the equivalent of 40 shots of vodka and choked on his vomit in his sleep

led zeppelin died on the same day

nobody can replace john bonham

his son filled in his role for the 2007 reunion show and did an amazing job of it. the whole show is on youtube, go check it out

john paul jones

john richard baldwin

born on january 3, 1946

nickname is jonesy

was also a session guitarist like jimmy

they had worked together before

when he found out jimmy was forming a group he called jimmy and was basically given the spot immediately

not only was the bassist but also the keyboardist

and could play the recorder

insanely talented. put some respect on his name

he talks in italics i swear to god

i don't have mainly crazy stories about jonesy bc he wasn't about that life

deadass he would go on stage, perform, walk off stage and go to a whole separate hotel from the other

he would only tell one person where he was at and told them not to call unless for super urgent emergencies

pissed peter grant off so much lmao

wasn't really super close to anyone in the band tbh

but bonzo was probably his greatest friend in the band

jimmy and robert kind of leave him out in my opinion

or they use to

when he found out that jimmy and robert were making their own symbols instead of picking out of a book like he was he said “of course!” and laughed

was pretty much left out of the live aid show

he had to squeeze himself on the stage and wasn't even able to play bass. he had to play the keyboard

“and thank you to my friends for finally remembering my phone number” -savage as hell john paul jones

he was one of the two people who found john bonham dead

it’s sad to think about

is actually quite funny

he has this kind of dry humor?? idk but it’s amazing 10/10 content

when john paul jones walks into the room interviewers break into a sweat

managed to look like a completely different person every year throughout the seventies or is it just my eyes?

has an Instagram account now go follow it for cute throwback photos lol

that’s all i really have for generic useless information about led zeppelin members for beginners. i hope it was somewhat entertaining. i'll make some more beginners stuff for led zeppelin. i will make y'all stan them lmao. i'm tagging @babygotblueeyes bc i know for a fact you want to get into them <3

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komatsunana · 5 years ago

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The Chronicles of Exandria: The Mighty Nein I

And so I do what I did the last 2 times for the Vox Machina Chronicles of Exandria books, which you can read [here] and [here].

These posts by no means contain all of the information in these books, but plenty of what would most interest other fans. This is by no means a replacement for actually seeing the book.

My best guess on up to where this book spoils is episode 46. Anyone who has not watched passed 46 can read this without spoilers outside of vague references that don’t really matter.

First and foremost, as usual, the artistry is the most important part of the book. All of the lovely fan-created art work is even more beautiful in ink than on screen. This I promise you.

As has been noted by other people who have received the book, it is written as though it was transcribed by Beau’s journals by the Cobalt Soul. Some unnamed writer(s) from the Cobalt Reserve from Tal’Dorei have written all parts that are not excerpts from Beau’s journals. There are edits by Zeenoth, which indicate that the book is not a final draft. Zeenoth is not impressed by their work.

The books’ foreword is a dedication to critters. I won’t transcribe all of it but it ends, “As always, we are richer for your company. For truly, what good are stories unless they can be shared?”

Unlike the Vox Machina ones, which started with pages dedicated to Vox Machina and their adventures first before branching out for guest and NPCs, this one’s table of contents shows that everything is scattered.

The first section is dedicated to the Storyteller - accompanied by art of Matt as “The Storyteller.” An excerpt follows below:

“A story walks the land through the songs and tales of those who are touched by its heart. And then one day, long after all the players within have met the Matron, a story will be told for the very last time. Unless, by the Grace of the Storyteller, we are let to it. [...] Through Ioun’s blessing we make his favorite children immortal. You hold one of them in your hands even now. Wake it carefully.”

Thoreau contacted the Cobalt Soul immediately after Beau’s first arrest - presumably the one with Tori. As the monks took Beau away, Thoreau referred to her as “his misfortune.” It is also noted in the margins that Thoreau is a good friend to the Archive.

Unlike the rest of the M9 and characters, there are no excerpts about Beau herself from her journal... Because obviously she doesn’t need to take notes in herself. However the Cobalt Soul write their own notes about her and her reputation in the Cobalt Soul and note... more than a few times that Zeenoth thinks she is aggressive, stubborn, and quick to judge and anger and as a result they can’t put a lot of stock into her notes on other people. However, Dairon was right to put their trust in her because her insight in invaluable and is quick to call out injustice.

Beau’s note taking is exceptional - and color-coded.

Beau’s first notes about Molly is that he is “not that bright, definitely drunk, completely full of shit, and not nearly as good of a liar as he thinks he is. His outfit is loud, far louder than the man himself.” His coat contains iconography from at least half a dozen gods. Beau also noted that Molly’s swords were interesting to which the footnotes immediately made note that Molly’s swords were just swords. Beau thought, in her first impression of him, that he might be on the run from a family of Warlocks.

The librarians decided to omit all of Molly’s earlier lies that he told Beau and the group about his background, and instead only described the climbing out of the grave and only able to say “Empty” story. He had scars and 9 red eye tattoos on him at the time.

There are sketches of the tattoo in full, after Molly had added to it, but it’s noted by Beau that part of the tattoo is covered by Molly’s hair. Looking at the sketch, it is implied there are more tattoos on his scalp, rather than just the length covering it.

For Molly’s story of climbing out of the grave to be true, it means that Molly relearned to speak both Common and Infernal, learned to perform his skills and duties with the Carnival, covered his eye tattoos with additional, elaborate tattoos, befriended Yasha, and discovered his innate magic ability to use his blood to infuse his weapons with magic.

Beau had made a list of every book she knew Caleb had on his person or expressed interest in. This includes the erotic books and the 2 spellbooks.

On the spellbooks, Beau says she isn’t sure about them. One she knows is a spellbook, but she’s not sure on the other as he never opens it. She wonders if it is a journal of some kind.

There is a page on Beau’s notes in the first arc with the Fletching and Moondrop Carnival - notes about the victim and all her possible suspects of which it is everyone that is part of the carnival. All of them have a strike through their name, indicating she had eliminated each of them as a suspect at one point, including Kylre.

Among the notes she has, my favorites are that Beau thinks that everyone in the circus hates each other, never trust a clown (about Desmond), and that everyone has a title such as Molly “The Ice-Spinner” and Yasha “The Brute.” Beau also notes Yasha as being human.

Outside of Beau’s notes, the best information to be found about Shakästa “Hush” is from an anonymous book from Deastock titled “Heroic Deeds of the Golden Grin.” It is because of Beau’s notes that Hush is confirmed to be real, not a myth, once and for all.

Because of how cool Shakästa was with his cool bird, Beau notes “I gotta get a bird.” So we have him to thank for Professor Thaddeus.

Unknown what deity Shakästa draws power from.

Known members of the Tombtakers:

Lucien Nonagon (Molly)

Cree: currently employed by the Gentleman. Blood powers like Molly’s.

[A name which as been severely crossed out but looks like it says Tyffinl]: Currently said to be in Nogvurot.

Otis and Zoran: Still at large, whereabouts unknown

Jurrell: Deceased

Some lady spellcaster from Rexxentrum

The Myriad is currently gaining footholds in Tal’dorei as well. There is also a written notation by Zeenoth to cross reference the Myriad activity with the Tombtakers, indicating that he believes that the Tombtakers and the Myriad might be connected.

Cobalt Soul theorizes that the blood Cree claims the Gentleman took from the M9 to track them might be a new form of blood-based mutagenetic tracking.

Beau’s first impression of Nott and Caleb’s relationship was that Nott heaped praise on him and that there might be some sort of blood debt or magic going on.

Beau’s early theory on Caleb was that he was hiding from a criminal employer and had done a high-level theft. She made note to watch if he attempted to side-step certain kinds of work.

Everything about Caleb sounded like bad news to Beau, but because he stuck around to get her out of jail Beau comes to the conclusion that that’s endearing.

Beau has made an observation that Caleb was searching for some kind of information in a book, related to transmutation. She wonders if bartering to get him into the Cobalt Soul library will get her into his good graces, though she hopes he won’t find out that the library is technically open to all if you ask nicely.

There is an entry (in Beau’s second journal, it should be noted) were several pages were ripped out about Caleb. This indicates that Beau had written down Caleb’s backstory of killing his parents but she, Caleb, or someone else had ripped it out before it got into the hands of the Cobalt Soul. The Cobalt Soul draws the conclusion that Caleb is connected to organized crime. They are also unable to find anyone born with the name Caleb Widogast in the Empire and they believe it to be an alias.

There are written notations that say that at least one of the ripped out pages were recovered, in which Beau describes the night Caleb told her and Nott about killing his parents. Both mentions of Trent Ikathon’s name were crossed out until illegible. Beau was unconvinced that Caleb’s memories after killing his parents aren’t still jumbled (rather than missing).

Fun fact! All of the Caleb illustrations in his art section all either have fire or Frumpkin in them. Because when you boil down Caleb to his essentials that’s all I’m saying.

The strangest thing about the M9, as far as the Cobalt Soul is concerned, is that they have a goblin among their party.

Beau also wonders if Nott’s relationship with Caleb isn’t also out of love or blind loyalty. Upon finding out that Nott feels like the parental figure (rather than the other way around, as Beau had assumed) Beau wonders what it is that Nott wants Caleb to be stronger for... Revenge? Or to change herself.

Beau notes that while Nott might have named herself so to call herself not brave, Beau thinks she is pretty brave. She describes Nott diving into the water for Fjord’s arc twice (even if she complained the entire time) and Nott saving Jester from the blue dragon which “absolutely saved Jester’s life.” Nott is very focused on everyone remaining together as a team. Beau believes that while Nott’s loyalty to Caleb has not lessened, her loyalty to the rest of the party has extended to them all.

“I think we might all be her kids now. It’s kind of sweet, in a really weird way.”

Zeenoth is extremely salty their junior drew lots of buttons instead of researching the crossbow Nott got from Hupperdook.

A list of all phrases that Beau noted in her journals that Kiri had learned in her time with them.

Welcome to the Mighty Nein!

I am Kiri!

Yes, I am very sweet.

It’s sharp.

Ooh, I’m a captain.

Where do babies come from?

Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!

If it bleeds, we can kill it.

I killed people!

Get into trouble!

She’s probably a good egg.

Go fuck yourself.

Zeenoth is VERY upset about the word fuck and wants that entry removed.

Beau thinks Calianna is too polite.

Cobalt Soul believes there is at least one other bowl like the one Calianna destroyed with the M9.

Beau hopes they don’t pick up any more stragglers, as she thinks it is getting crowded.

Cobalt Soul theorizes about why Keg had a four o’clock shadow rather than a proper Dwarven beard, wondering if she wasn’t forced to shave. This indicates that beards are normal on female dwarves.

Beau thinks Shady Creek Run is so called because it’s full of shady criminals, but the Cobalt Soul notes that Shady Creek Run has a creek that is in near constant shade in the abundant pine trees.

On Molly’s death Beau says:

“Fuck. That went horribly. We lost Molly, and I don’t know what to do. [This part is crossed out: Maybe if I had-] I’m trying my best to stay objective.”

Beau also crosses out “I’m starting to like her” about Keg, and replaces it with “She’s fine, I guess.”

On Nila Beau says: “She said something really nice about Molly. How in her clan, someones spirit never leave you. They return to nature, and are forever by your side. I don’t know if I believe it, but I like the thought.”

Beau wants her own “lucky smell bag” that’ll make decisions for her.

The Blooming Grove was built post-Calamity.

Beau’s first impressions of Caduceus is that he is both grounded and flighty.

Because Caduceus hasn’t eaten meat or alcohol in the time she’s known him, she thinks he’s got to have some sort of vice.

Because of Beau’s talk with Caduceus after killing the blue dragon, Beau remarks that she likes her edge and doesn’t want to lose it and go soft. But maybe it is a better, more efficient way of doing things by being there for the M9. “Gross.”

There is a note in the margins telling the editor to contact Archivist Demid (AKA the guy studying the moons) for information on the Dust family. This indicates that he may have some special information.

Because of Jester’s defacing every town she visits, the Cobalt Soul has been able to track the M9′s movements.

The Cobalt Soul’s 2 working theories on the Traveler is that he’s a smaller/younger deity either from folk tales about a cloaked figure that either rewards or punishes heroes with a ironic twist OR a god of vandalism.

Zeenoth notes that if the Traveler IS a god of vandalism... they may have a secret follower in their ranks because of all the smut doodles in their books lately. Which of course Jester probably drew.

Beau says that as Jester told the group about her prank causing her to have to flee from Nicodranas she was full of her usual bubbliness... But was starting to see that there was underlying sadness in Jester.

Beau has known Jester has had a thing for Fjord since they first met, but after she got Tusk Love it became full-blown infatuation.

“Fjord seems super oblivious, though, which isn’t surprising for a man who occasionally wakes up covered in seawater and confusion.”

Beau stands by her and Jester’s purchase of the owl and blink dog, but she wonders how long the weasel is going to last in their line of work.

Beau wonders if it’s weird to be attracted to your friend’s mom and comes to the conclusion it is so she’ll back off... But the Ruby is smoking hot.

Beau can also see why people who want to release and evil god for Avantika. Not that she would. “She’s hot, but come on.”

No really new information on The Plank King is revealed in his section, but quite a bit is crossed out until illegible. This could detail what connection to the Cobalt Soul he has, but was redacted.

The Cobalt claims that while the M9 titled a leader, Fjord often took that position.

Beau is making direct reports on Fjord to the Cobalt Soul and his connection to Uk’otoa. In her latest report, she says that they’ve bought some time until their next trip to the sea............

Waiting for the rest of the M9 to come out of the Happy Fun Ball, after fighting the blue dragon, are among the rest worst few minutes of Beau’s life.

Beau believed Twiggy that she killed the blue dragon, in part because Caduceus believed her.

Beau accidentally writes “cute and dry” instead of “cut and dried” about Yasha’s background.

“For someone dressed in greys, who carries herself like a dark cloud, Yasha sure seems drawn to color and light. I wonder where it stems from.”

On Yasha being tested by the Stormlord by the “man made of lightning” the Cobalt Soul says it is not uncommon for the Stormlord to test his disciples through acts of physical, mental, or spiritual exertion.

The final notes by Zeenoth indicates that whoever wrote the book (outside of edits from Zeenoth himself and excerpts from Beau’s journals) were by someone from Tal’dorei. Who might it be? Someone we know?

#critical role #critical role: the mighty nein campaign #cr #the chronicles of exandria #critical role art book #i scream #my crit role feels #long post

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odos-bucket · 5 years ago

Text

Next part of this story. There will probably be three or four in all.

It’s a bit less than two months from the first time Jaskier heard the song that he and Geralt meet again. They’re not exactly planning their reunions at this point, so much as they’re making sure to casually mention a few of their intended destinations over the course of the next few weeks or months whenever they part ways, and then happen to run into each other at some point or other. Jaskier’s been a little more deliberate these past few weeks, about being in the right place at the right time, and keeping an ear out for word of a silver haired witcher, and it’s paid off.

He’s greeted warmly. Geralt’s never been overly comfortable with public affection, but he takes a moment when they meet to briefly touch their foreheads together. Jaskier studies him for any indication that he may have heard the farcical songs being sung about him, without having any real idea of how such a thing might manifest.

It’s become routine for them to turn in early on their first nights back together. Not to fool around (well, not just to fool around); it’s easier to be with Geralt when there aren’t a million other people and things going on around them. So they get a room in the small town where they’ve convened, and within seconds of the door closing Jaskier is throwing his arms around the witcher and pulling him close. Geralt presses his face into his neck, and the bard feels his chest rise and fall with deep inhalations.

“I missed you.”

Geralt hums his reciprocation of the sentiment before pulling away to shed off his road worn outer layers. Jaskier makes a noise of protest at the loss of contact, even as he turns to flop onto the bed, where he’s alone for less than a minute. Geralt waits for him to initiate contact- he always does- but once Jaskier kisses him he responds with full enthusiasm. They get to spend a few blissful minutes narrowing their world down until all of the shit is pushed to the outside. But Geralt pulls away too soon.

“I need to tell you something,” he says. It comes out almost like it’s a question.

Jaskier’s essentially on top of him at this point, and he has no intention of changing that (not unless he’s asked to), but he does angle his head so they can look at each other.

“I did something stupid,” says Geralt.

“We do stupid things all the time.”

“I…” Geralt begins again, makes the first sound, or gets out the first syllable of a few words, then hums and falls silent.

He’s frustrated. He doesn’t like it when other people try to force words out of him, but he really hates not being able to pull the words out of himself.

Jaskier has never thought of himself as an especially patient person, but for this he can wait, though the anxieties he had momentarily been able to push away begin to return as he does so.

“I’d rather be the one who you hear about this from.” Geralt takes a long pause. “And seeing as you don’t seem to be the only troubadour chronicling my exploits anymore…”

Jaskier winces, though he had known they would only be able to put off talking about it for so long. It was far too much to ask for Geralt and the song to somehow never cross each other’s paths.

He presses closer at every point where their body’s already touch, and feels Geralt relax under the deep pressure. He nods slightly, just in case any confirmation is needed that he understands.

“I hurt someone.” The witcher's voice is a rough whisper. “Someone who I didn’t need to. Someone who I should have- fuck! How could I have been this stupid?”

Jaskier squeezes his arms.

“What happened?”

“It’s that damn song. It was playing in a tavern… and I had Ciri with me. Normally I wouldn’t have-“ he shakes his head. “But it upset her. She asked the bard if he could play something else.”

He can't help but smile at that. He can practically hear her. There's this special tone of voice she sometimes uses, a very queenly way of sounding polite while making a request that's really a command. Not the best way to pass through places unnoticed perhaps, but he's still finding it very difficult not to feel proud of her.

“I should have been more careful, made sure she was keeping her head down, but… Jaskier, she was so upset. And there are some things I never wanted her to hear.” He says the last part like it’s some kind of shameful secret, and not a feeling that every parent in the world could easily empathize with. “She started to argue with him. I didn’t want to make things worse by making myself known. But then he put his hands on her, and I just…”

“Did you kill him?” Jaskier asks conversationally.

Geralt shakes his head.

“And I'll assume that if Ciri had been hurt in any way I would already know.”

“She’s not hurt.”

“I don’t think I exactly see what the big deal is.”

“I attacked a man who was unarmed! A man who wasn’t a threat to me!”

Jaskier shrugs.

“You must know me well enough to know that the only possible response I could have to that is the son of a bitch deserved it.”

“I should be able to control myself.”

“Seems like a bit of an unreasonably high standard to hold yourself to when you look at the utter lack of self control everyone else seems to display so proudly- Oh!”

Geralt is shaking. And the way they’re sitting he can feel the vibration run through every nerve in his body.

“Sweetheart…”

“…I can’t believe I fucking did that.”

“It’s okay.”

“It was okay for me to hurt someone who’s weaker than I am?”

“Under the circumstances? Yes! You were protecting your family!”

Geralt just keeps shaking his head.

“He couldn’t have hurt her.”

“He was hurting her. And I’m not so sure it’s fair to say that he wasn’t a threat to you either. No don’t give me that look. You have been through hell, and your pain is not a fucking joke! And if I could just get my hands on the bastards who think it is…” His voice wavers partway through, and then cracks, and by the end he’s just barely holding back a sob.

They’re both trembling. Jaskier presses his nose into Geralt’s hair, and Geralt buries his face in Jaskier’s neck. For a while the only noise in the room comes from their erratic breathing, punctuated occasionally by soft and strangled cursing.

Jaskier had spent plenty of time worrying about Geralt hearing the song. He hadn’t thought about Ciri. He feels sick, and furious, and useless.

“I’m sorry,” he breaths out after a while. “I’m so sorry.”

“I have to be better than this.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong. Hell, when I heard that shit for the first time I ambushed the kid who had been playing it in an alleyway.”

“… You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Maybe not,” Jaskier allows. “But I’d probably do it again.” He plays with the witcher’s hair, wraps sections of it around his wrists and fingers. “… Is all of it true?”

It’s hardly a surprise when Geralt doesn’t answer right away. Jaskier wouldn’t fault him for choosing not to answer at all. In fact he is beginning to think that maybe he should apologize for even asking, when Geralt finally speaks.

“Truer than most of your accounts.” He says it without lifting his eyes from the bed.

The attempt at levity ignites something warm in his chest, and feeds into the protective flame that’s been growing for the last several- well since he met the witcher really.

“So… what? Someone’s interviewing people who have hurt you, to write novelty songs? They don’t have anything better to do with their worthless life?”

Geralt shrugs. He’s still looking down, seemingly very focused on something on the floor behind Jaskier’s left elbow. He’s still, except for the the steady working of his jaw. The bard waits. If Geralt’s lost in his own head there’s nothing pressing him for a response will do to help him get out. It’s some time before the witcher speaks.

“So you,” his gaze stays fixed on the floor. “So you know…”

Guilt rips through him as Geralt trails off.

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have heard any of that. I didn’t mean to-" he swallows and breaths in to level out his voice. “Can you forgive me?”

A part of him knows it’s a ridiculous question even as he asks it, but he can’t shake the feeling that he somehow needs to atone for what he now knows.

It’s the plea for forgiveness that finally bring’s Geralt’s eyes back onto him. Incredulity replaces his previously blank expression as his gaze shifts upward.

“What?”

“I feel like I’ve betrayed your trust,” Jaskier admits.

“By what reasoning have you betrayed my trust?”

“Well if you’d wanted me to know any of that you would have told me yourself.”

Geralt looks him over with an intense expression.

“Witcher’s aren’t taught to broadcast our deficiencies,” he says after a while.

“Deficiencies?” Jaskier echoes. The word leaves a rotten taste in his mouth. "Other people’s cruelty is not a denouncement on you.”

“… I’m meant to be able to endure.”

“You have endured. More than anyone should have to.”

Jaskier leans forward, but waits for Geralt to close the gap between them. The kiss satisfies his imagined need for forgiveness.

“We’ll fix this. I’m going to figure something out, I swear to you.”

“It isn’t your responsibility.”

“Isn’t it though? Isn’t this the exact kind of thing I’m supposed to be able to protect you from?.” He reclines sideways onto the bed, and pulls the witcher with him. “I don’t care if you think it’s my responsibility or not. I won’t let this stand. You deserve so much better than this shit.”

The skeptical look that Geralt gives him at that makes him want to set the godsdamned world on fire. Jaskier meets his eyes, and speaks as clearly and as calmly as he can.

“You. Don’t. Deserve. This.”

Geralt starts to roll his eyes, then closes them partway through.

“I need you to believe me.” He tries to keep his voice steady, even though he knows by now that there are a million other things letting Geralt know that he’s anything but calm.

The only response he gets is a soft hum, as the witcher shifts forward until his head is resting against the bard’s shoulder.

Jaskier weaves their fingers together, and doesn’t press any further. He doesn’t say anything. He’s not sure what to say, so he waits for Geralt to break the silence.

He falls asleep waiting.

It is not a restful night.

It’s not night at all. It’s dark because he’s inside. Underground? Somewhere the sun can’t get to. Somewhere where it could be day or it could be night and it wouldn’t really matter. And somewhere where it’s hard to breath. There’s a smell? Or the air’s the wrong consistency? Or maybe a problem with his lungs? He doesn’t know. He can’t breath. And there are sounds. Cries. Screams. And there’s blood. And it’s warm. And it’s not his, but it’s all over him. And there’s a child bleeding out right into his lungs. And. And…

Jaskier wakes up screaming. This can’t be happening. He can’t be back here. It isn’t real. He tells himself it isn’t real three more times before he realizes that that might actually be true. And then he repeats it twice more because nothing else seems to be able to fit in his head.

There are arms around him when he comes back to himself. And he cringes because he knows Geralt hates this, knows the sound of screams brings him physical pain, and that when he wakes up to them he wakes up ready to fight.

“You’re okay.”

He makes a pitiful noise.

“Do you know where you are?”

He nods, and pulls the arms around him to tighten.

“You’re safe.”

“Geralt…”

“I’m here.”

“… Those fucking bastards.” Jaskier finds he can’t keep his voice calm. “… Fucking bastards…”

#jaskier #geralt of rivia #the witcher #witcher #geraskier #ignore me #I don't know how to end things #my writing

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cherry3point14 · 5 years ago

Text

Stranger Than Fanfiction: Ch 6

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Not much except for the dangers for staying up all night. And Meta. Word count: 1,900. Chapter Summary: Fanfiction is not your friend. A/N: I am very sorry but like all my writing we are in that awkward middle where we have to hang on for dear life and hope the writing improves by the end.

Ao3 if you prefer

You hadn’t gone looking for it, the story. Your new online friend sent you a link. Innocently. Casually. Like she wasn’t going to absolutely, swiftly, and utterly change everything.

It was only supposed to be a story.

You had tried to explain as gently as possible that you weren’t reading fics anymore but she'd sent you the link anyway, in case you changed your mind. She hadn’t been holding a gun to your head or anything, you didn’t have to click it. You could have let it sit in your little inbox till the end of time. She’d mentioned that you might like this story is all. This person, the writer she linked you to, was well known and pretty good. The stories were, her words, one of a kind. It had been late, you’d already been tucked up in bed and unable to sleep. The blue light from your phone was doing very little to help with the whole getting to sleep thing, but really, it’s Friday night. No harm, no foul.

Your bedroom was the perfect temperature, your blankets were the perfect weight over your body. Everything was soft and cocoon-like, the ideal place to hide from the world while you read something you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t. More fanfiction.

The first story was twelve chapters and you devoured them. Your new friend had been right. The story was brilliant. If you hadn’t known better this could have been another unpublished book, albeit shorter than Supernatural books usually are. There had been a vivid interaction between Sam and Dean finishing each other's sentences that felt bone-chillingly real. Probably because you’d seen the real them do the exact same thing in front of you a few days ago.

Well written fanfiction is not the issue. Nor is the fact that you’re reading fanfiction at all. The crazy, unbelievable part came down to four familiar words.

Little did she know.

If you remembered anything it was those words. They had haunted what nightmares you’d had since you heard them a week ago. Those words were the reason you jumped easier at every sound or movement.

Then you’d read them on the screen. Little had that character known that she wouldn't make it past the week. Alone those words weren’t irrefutable proof, not enough to convict anyway, the rest of the story might be. The way it was written. It was like you could hear the words in your head again, a different song sung in the same voice. An echo of what you heard most days since that first Friday in May.

Only when you get to the end do you dare to even think your suspicions.

There’s no way. It’s impossible.

The clock at the top of your phone tells you it’s nearly one o’clock in the morning now. You hadn’t devoured that first story as quickly as you thought. Maybe you’re tired. That’s what was causing this delirium. Tiredness was sending you further and into the realms of crazy. Crazier than the voice or the Winchesters or the fact that a shapeshifter is killing people.

It’s beyond deranged. It’s insane, it’s… it’s… unbelievable.

Your life, what you’ve been hearing, it can’t be just that; a story. It’s supposed to be in your head. Sure, everything you'd heard had been strung together like a book but it’s not actually being told. It’s something in you, broken, you needed an MRI. Or a therapist. You read too much, that’s all. You have too many books in your memory.

It would be easy to turn your phone off now. One a.m. That’s sleeping time. Your eyelids are heavy and it’s a struggle to keep them open.

But you click the link that says Masterlist anyway and see a post for something in progress at the top of the page. Till Death Do Us Part.

The synopsis alone makes your throat dry and your heart stop.

Y/N spends her days on paperwork and procedure. In the worst days of people’s lives, she is the full stop at the end of the sentence. When a loved one is lost, she replaces the irreplaceable; by completing the insurance claim. Her work sits on the outskirts of tragedy, far away enough that she pretends to have a normal life. But when she discovers two men attempting to steal her job out from under her? Everything changes.

The room is quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Gravity has forced you deeper into your pillow to the point where you couldn’t get up, couldn’t move, if your house caught fire around you. It’s a comfortable prison but you’re still trapped all the same, which only leaves scrolling, clicking, and reading as your options.

Yet your thumb is slow. It’s the only part of you that can move but you can’t bring yourself to do it too quickly. You suddenly can’t sleep either and indecision starts eating at you.

It might be an hour before you click on the first link—chapter one—it might be thirty seconds. The chapter eventually loads and when you do start skimming the words something steals the air from your lungs. A single line stands out to you, black letters on a white background that will haunt you for the rest of your short life.

This is a story about Y/N Y/L/N.

The early morning sun starts to leak through the gap in your curtains, sending a slither of light into the room. It slices over your bed, your arms still holding your phone and your face. It's not particularly bright but it's enough to inform you that you haven't slept yet and you paw at your cheeks to wipe the tears from them.

Six chapters out of ten. There are six chapters online for anyone to read. Every facet of your life. There’s so much more than the words you'd heard in your already. Entire sections where the real you deviated from the path, because the you that is being written about has no idea what’s coming. She has no idea that she’s going to die. Or that you both are.

When you’d first heard that you’d run home in a panic but in the story you never did. You sat at your desk and worked mindlessly, made small talk with Harry about his weekend plans. You’d carried on living.

The invasion of your privacy is not the reason for the tear tracks blotting your face though. No, you'd cried for two reasons. Frustration had been what made your chin wobble and your eyes sting. What you were reading is what knocked your resistance enough to feel the wetness on your cheeks.

It's poetic. The irony of this character only learning to really live in her final days, without knowing it's her final days. The foreshadowing and tragedy perfectly littered throughout. You may think you're better off knowing except what did you actually know? The only thing you know is the same thing everyone on the planet knows; death is coming. Yours is sooner than you'd like, sure, but you still had no idea what was coming at all.

You're not a crier, not pretty prose alone, but this isn't a character. It's you. The implication of sad, wasted days were your choices, your time, your shell of an existence.

You wouldn't have even thought your life was that ordinary until you'd read that it was.

So, you'd read. Over and over again as if you can will the ending to appear by memorizing whatever has already been posted. Sleeping was second hand to re-reading. You'd thought back to everything before this and your love of a good mystery, convincing yourself that you alone could find the clues. That’s where the key to solving this was. Hidden to anyone else but you.

Now you know every word; the good, the bad, and the ones you already heard in your head. There’s nothing. No glaringly obvious tips or hints anyway. Nothing that makes you sit up dramatically because of a fact only you know about yourself. Then again—you're reminded by the promise of an update soon—it’s still in progress.

The answer hits you between your eyes.

This story is in progress. It’s not a product of your mind anymore, it's being written by a human being. Although you have no idea how you are hearing it, or how she’s controlling you. Or if she brought you into existence like a monster from the books. There's still hope. She’s a person typing on a keyboard.

People can be stopped. Keyboards can be smashed. Stories can go unfinished.

You click back to her main profile and see her name. Emma. Your author has a name now, all the better to find her.

Emma. Iowa. That doesn't narrow it down much further. The only other slightly identifying piece of information on her profile is her age.

There's one thing Emma has gotten right in everything she's written so far, you have changed. Imminent death will do that to a person. Old you would have given up, let defeat win out. Luckily you're not that person anymore.

Not everyone is as honest as you would like when it comes to insurance. Sometimes you need to treat things like fraud because they are fraud, so you already have a friend who has dug up information for you in the past. With a lot less to go on.

Hi Stan,

It's been a while but I was hoping you had time to check something out for me. I'm looking for an Emma, 34, Iowa. I also have a link to her blog below. I know it's a long shot but if I can get a phone number, address, anything. You'd be doing me a huge favor. Are normal fees ok? Let me know if you're busy or if anyone else can do this for me.

Thanks,

Y/N

The email is brief but once your phone makes that tiny woosh sound to signify it's sent you feel comforted. A small semblance of relief wraps you up like the blanket you still have tucked under your arms. For the first time, you're not blindly trying things and hoping to solve the problem. You may not know how this is happening but you're being proactive with the facts you have. If your off the books P.I friend can actually find this woman then you may have an honest to God shot at preventing your own death. You might even get her out of your head to boot.

You check the time again, even though it's six a.m. you're finally tired enough to close your eyes.

Continue to Chapter 7.

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @magnitude101999 @alexwinchester23 Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278 @bloodydaydreamer StrangerThanFiction tags: @jaylarkson @starsandmidnightblue

#dean x reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn x reader #dean winchester x reader #spn fanfiction #supernatural #spn #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean dean the soft lil bean

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amydancepants-peralta · 5 years ago

Text

not a trace of doubt in my mind

(trying again as Tumblr ate my earlier post ... cheers for that!)

season four of the fortunate ones, my entry into the B99 2020 vision challenge.

not a trace of doubt in my mind

There’s a photo of Jake and Amy that rests underneath a heart shaped magnet on the fridge in Amy’s kitchen. It’s been there since the previous year’s celebrations, anchored safely amongst the white metal after being rescued from the clutches of an overzealous friend, and for the past twelve months she has stared at it so often, it’s details are wholly committed to memory.

It had only been taken a year ago today, but they seemed so young then; so carefree and in love - although neither of them had plucked up the courage to admit it yet.

(That would come in another month or two, on a dance floor in the middle of the ocean where salsa dancing and bottomless shrimp were the most important things on their agenda).

With scarcely an inch between them, this frozen in time version of Jake and Amy were simply two people rejoicing the freedom that came with finally acknowledging - if not yet in words, then certainly in actions - how they really, truly felt about each other. Amy runs a finger along the edge of the photograph as she stands in front of it, lifting up the edges as though the movement could make her dress shimmer again like it had that night. She envies the couple in the frame - they hadn’t had any idea of what was to come.

But then of course, nobody could have predicted six months of heartache. Of Amy laying in her bed night after night, wrapped in one of Jake’s hoodies zipped up so high that the scent of him completely surrounded her, staring at all the photos of the two of them on her phone until she cried herself to sleep. Of the pillow propped up in the bed beside her, pressed up against her back - a mediocre replacement for the real thing; but once she knew what it was like to sleep with Jake beside her, sleeping alone simply didn’t cut it.

Months of dodging questions from family and friends and coming up with increasingly less plausible excuses every time his name came up, until finally under the cover of a room filled with music Amy had whispered the truth into her father’s ear, trusting that he would disseminate the information to the others with care. Jumping just a little bit every time the phone rang, constantly living in a state of fear that this would be the phone call that told her what she was afraid of the most - that Figgis had found them, and that the only man she had ever loved this much had been killed.

And then suddenly, he had been there - standing in front of her in a storage shed in Florida with horrifically frosted tips in his hair and a look of shock on his face, clutching his throat in response to the punch she’d just delivered. He had been gasping for air, yet still he called out her name, and it was a sound she had begun to fear she would never hear again.

It would take a gunshot wound to his leg and a private moment underneath the flashing lights of the emergency response before either would feel like them again; but on the flight back home with Jake next to her, right arm resting over her legs and fast asleep on her shoulder, Amy can feel the pieces of herself that had been shattered six months ago finally begin to rebuild.

She can hear him in her bedroom now, his footsteps creaking against the hardwood as he dresses from his shower. It was comforting, to hear Jake move about with such familiarity - to open his own drawers and go to his section of the wardrobe: a part of him already living here long before any argument between who’s apartment they’re going to live in can be won.

(And yes okay, Amy is always a fan of winning arguments. But this argument in particular, she really REALLY wanted to win.)

From the corner of her kitchen the radio that had been playing some pop song switches to an ad for grout replacement, the overloud voice of the owner blaring from it’s speakers and startling Amy out of her reverie. Tonight was New Year’s Eve, and despite numerous invitations from family and friends alike, Jake and Amy were spending the night in her apartment, just the two of them. He had suggested it a few weeks ago as the madness of the festive season had swirled around them: a night that was just for them; where they could drink and dance and sing and make love as much or as little as they liked, and nobody could interrupt. It had been such a sweetly romantic idea that Amy had pulled Jake in for a kiss as soon as he’d finished talking, and as of an hour ago both of their cell phones had been tucked away - do not disturb mode activated, not to be looked at again until the following morning.

Reaching into the fridge for a bottle of orange soda, Amy glances one last time at the couple on the fridge as she closes the door, nodding her head to the beat as a new (and slightly more familiar) song starts playing on the radio. The rest of her body catches up as she moves around the room, pulling glasses from their cupboard and mixing the soda with spirits, preparing a drink for both her and Jake as she dances around the kitchen happily.

The cap has only just been screwed back onto the bottle when two strong arms wrap around her middle, the familiar warmth of Jake enveloping Amy from all angles. His breath is hot on her skin as he drops a kiss to the side of her neck, lips trailing higher and nibbling gently on her ear. It’s a simple move, and one that he’s probably done a hundred times in the two years that they’ve been dating, but oh, how it still gives her tingles. He holds Amy close as she sways to the music, hips locking up against each other, and slowly she melts into his arms.

“Orange soda, huh?” Amy feels the vibration of Jake’s chest as he speaks, and she smiles.

“I guess you could say I’ve grown accustomed to it.” Truth was, after Jake and Holt had been scurried into witsec, there were days that Amy had literally craved the flavour, being so used to tasting it in Jake’s kisses. The oversized bottles that ended up monopolising the bottom shelf of her refrigerator had done very little to take the edge off - and served only as a placebo as she waited for her lover to come home.

Jake lands another gentle kiss, this time to her shoulder, hunching slightly so that he can rest his chin there. “Music, total privacy, my sexy girlfriend dancing, and orange drank. This night is going to be amazing. Honestly, whoever thought of this is a damn genius.”

A contented laugh falls out of Amy’s mouth as she rests her hands against Jake’s, linking their fingers together and squeezing. “You just called my dancing sexy instead of dorky. You must be in love.”

“Oh, completely.” Shifting his hands to her waist, Jake turns Amy gently until she’s facing him, gifting her with a glimpse of his beautiful smile before pulling her in for a heart-meltingly sweet kiss.

He had held her so tight the night he and Holt had to go away, tears streaming down his cheeks and pooling into her hair (only fair, because her tears had turned his shirt into a sopping mess), his arms staying wrapped around her waist. His voice had been so heavy, so thick with emotion as he had looked her in the eyes, telling Amy that he needed her to know that she was the love of his life, punctuating his declaration with a kiss that had nearly set her heart on fire.

He’d repeated the sentiment the first night they were together again, finally alone in the private hospital room that Jake’s being in Witsec had been able to afford them. With only the steady beep of his heart rate monitor to keep them company, he had kept Amy close as he could while she lay on his good side, running his fingers through her hair and telling her over and over again how he can’t believe that she is finally here. In the quiet hours of the night she learnt it all - the hot tub burritos; the terrible pizza and constant layer of sweat that remained on his skin. Months on end where he couldn’t find the energy to get out of bed: that with not a single item of hers for him to cling to, the memories of them that would appear in his dreams was the only thing that kept him sane.

But now finally - finally - with the masks of Isabel Cortez and Larry Sherbet long since banished to the back of their minds - night shifts were officially over and life was returning to normal. And tonight was just for them.

There’s a steady tap against her kitchen window as rain falls quietly onto the world outside, and as Jake’s hands roam down from her waist and onto her butt, Amy sighs softly against his lips. With her fingers tangling through his freshly cut curls, she lets the kiss continue for a while, allowing her body to be pushed up against the counter until she needs to break away for air, smiling as Jake rests his forehead against hers. The pounding of his heart is obvious against her chest and Amy leans up for one more soft kiss, grateful to know that he is still just as affected by these moments as she is.

Jake’s hands roam along the expanse of her back as he pulls away, his blinks as slow as his steps, and when Amy hands him a drink he smiles at her gratefully. His hand pauses mid-way to his lips, his eyebrows raising as he begins. “Oh! I set up a surprise for you in the living room. I meant to tell you earlier … I guess I got a little distracted,” he winks. Blushing, she takes Jake’s outstretched hand, squeezing his fingers and following him to her surprise. Her mind is doing a quick search on how long she’s been in the kitchen for - ie: how much of a mess could Jake have made in the living room - but no amount of calculations could prepare her for what her boyfriend leads her to.

He’d made a fort.

In the middle of her living room stood a perfectly balanced mixture of blankets, pillows, fairy lights and bottles of wine. Propped up by several of her dining room chairs, a soft cream blanket stretched on one side all the way to her television, repositioned to sit opposite the sofa for Optimal Fort Viewing. On the coffee table sat a stack of DVDs (a healthy mix of her favourites and his) and two of her best-smelling candles were burning over in one corner - far enough away to be considered safe from being knocked over if any *ahem* other stuff ended up happening.

It was the most dreamy setup; and something that a few years ago would have seemed completely ridiculous, but now that she was with Jake everything that once appeared crazy now felt … kinda perfect.

Amy turns towards Jake, the smile on her face growing larger by the second, and tugs him closer so she can deliver a gentle kiss to his lips. “This is amazing!” she whispers against him, and he nods, taking a quick sip of his drink before diving back in for another kiss.

(And there it is - that familiar blended taste of Jake and orange soda and home.)

She loves him, more than she thought was possible. Loves his happy smile; his arms that felt like they were made purely to wrap around her, and the way he looks at her like she just hung the moon (which, is obviously insanity - clearly it was him). He bites his lip, that sweet little action that never fails to make her heart skip a beat, and another happy sigh escapes as he leads her to the little home he had built for them.

Waiting until Amy has settled into her usual position - majority of her body leaning against his, lower body twisted slightly so that her right leg is thrown over his left - Jake dives into the edge of the couch cushions, digging until he pulls out his cell phone.

“Hey! You know the rules - no phones, Peralta!” she cries out indignantly, staring in horror.

“Relax babe, it’s still on Do Not Disturb. I’m just going to order us dinner, and then it’s getting tucked right back into the bottom of Pillow Mountain, okay?” Amy’s eyes narrow at Jake’s response, studying the sincerity in his face before nodding. “So what are you feeling like? Pizza? Chinese? Polish? All of the above?”

Resting her head against Jake’s shoulder, Amy hums a non-committing sound. From beside her, Jake clears his throat. “Man, it’s a shame we can’t order from that Thai place that’s a couple of blocks from my apartment. You know, the one that doesn’t deliver but has the really good Pad See Ew that you love? Kinda makes you think that maybe moving into my place would be better, yeah?”

Amy moves quickly, lifting her head from his shoulder and dropping her mouth open at the sheer audacity of his obvious tactic. Two can play that game, buddy. “Sure, sure, yeah. Except if we moved into your apartment, we wouldn’t be able to go to the coffee shop that’s right around the corner from here. I’m sure you remember the one. It has those chocolate muffins you’re low-key addicted to, and makes that coffee you can’t get enough of … what did you call it again? Oh that’s right, the Elixir of The Gods. We definitely wouldn’t be able to stop there every morning if we didn’t live here. In this nice, spacious apartment that is definitely not covered in black mould.”

Jake laughs, rolling his eyes slightly as he brings up the menu for the nearest pizza parlour on his phone. “Man, we are never going to come to an agreement on this one, are we? I’m going to Uber Eats this sitch and just order us pizza and Polish. Calories don’t count over the festive period. That’s a fact.”

Amy nods, returning to her previously comfortable position. “Good plan, babe.” She pauses for a moment, shaking her head. “As the whole apartment thing, I don’t know what we’re going to do.” Her free hand snakes around Jake’s middle, resting her fingers along the side seam of his shirt and playing with the ridged material. “I just … I love this apartment. I’ve got a whole binder full of reasons why it was better than anything available in the market at the time. And you’ve got practically a wardrobe’s worth of stuff here already.”

“But mine is in a cooler neighbourhood, Ames! There are funky little pop-ups opening all the time. Any day now, there’s going to be a stationery store for you to become obsessed with - I can feel it. And … it’s cheaper, and closer, and …” Jake pauses, resting his palm on her knee and stroking there softly. “I guess, now that you’ve shown me how to handle my finances like an actual adult, I’m a little less willing to part with my money when there’s a perfectly good option available for way less dollars?”

An argument over mattress replays in the back of Amy’s mind, and in an effort to distract herself she cranes her neck slightly, beginning a trail of gentle kisses along the side of Jake’s neck. “We’d be sharing the rent, babe - not paying for two places we barely use. We’d actually be saving money.”

She feels him swallow, Adam’s Apple bobbing and making his skin shift slightly as she continues her caresses. His voice is an octave lower when he finally speaks, the hand on her knee tightening its grip. “You know I can’t think straight when you’re doing that, babe.”

Amy nods. She does know. And so she continues, making sure he can feel her breath against him when she replies. “Just think about it, Jake. No thinking about which place to stay at each night, or having to buy two of everything in case you forget to bring it with you. Just you and me, and a place to call ours.”

Turning his head slightly, he captures Amy’s lips with his own, drawing her in for a heated kiss, moaning as his tongue laps gently at her lower lip. “Consider me waving the white flag for now.”

She grins, moving her hand upward until it rests against his chest. “Are you surrendering? You’ll move in here?”

“Wait, what? Oh, my bad. No white flag - Dido, nailed it - just ... no more apartment talk tonight, okay?” Jake raises his eyebrows, eyes turning that warm melted caramel colour that always seems to have a direct affect on her pulse. “I’ve thought of something way better that we can do with our mouths.”

A tiny kaleidoscope of butterflies begin to dance around Amy’s stomach, and she swears that she’s not a teenager sitting in front of her crush, but maybe tonight she is. Her body leans forward without prompting, and she murmurs - “What did you have in mind?”

He moves away from her just as quickly as she moves forward, swinging his arm out in front of them and crying out, “Smile, babe!” - clicking the shutter button on his phone before Amy has a chance to respond. It’s a mess of a photograph, blurry from the 0.03 seconds notice Jake gave before taking his shot, and Amy stares at him in confusion as he deletes the photograph, holding his phone out for another try.

“Ames?” He asks, raising his eyebrows at her digital reflection.

Putting on her best affronted face, Amy shakes her head. “Weren’t we about to do something with our mouths, detective?”

His right eyebrow raises slightly, darting his eyes over to Amy before returning to his phone. “Ah, yeah? Smiling is something you do with your mouth, babe. Man, here I was thinking that you were the smart one.”

Smiling in spite of herself, Amy shifts her eyes to the ceiling. “Whatever, Peralta.”

Jake’s breath is hot against her cheek, the sudden change kickstarting a parade of shivers down Amy’s spine. “Don’t think I couldn’t see what you were doing before with those neck kisses, Santiago. Payback’s a bitch.” Her head swivels towards the sound, mouth already open for comeback; and his lips capture hers before she has a chance to speak, drawing her in for a deep kiss. His tongue is gentle in it’s movements as it massages against hers, that familiar feeling of intimacy washing over her as he sighs softly into her mouth. She’s absolutely beaming by the time Jake pulls away, tucking her head into her little nook at the junction of his neck and shoulder and gazing happily at Jake’s phone as he holds it up again for one last attempt at a photo. It should have been impossible, to capture that amount of love in a single frame, but there it was - and only a few seconds later, it’s set as Jake’s screensaver, and Amy leans in to plant a tiny peck against the tip of his nose.

“This is our first New Years Eve together where it’s just us.” Jake mumbles, tucking his phone back under Pillow Mountain and using his free hand to knead the back of his neck. “We’re at home, with nobody creeping around trying to take photos or whatever.” His eyes land on hers, and Amy couldn’t pull away from his stare even if she tried. “You’re not trying to find the man threatening to kill me, and I’m not halfway across the country with somebody else’s name pinned to my shirt. Tonight is just you and me, Ames … and it really felt like it needed commemorating.”

“Absolutely, babe.” Amy answers, leaning back in for another quick kiss. The minuscule bulbs that stretched out over the edge of the blankets cast his face in a soft glow when she pulls away, and briefly she’s transported back three years; to a patrol car in the middle of the night with only the light of the surrounding docks to keep them company. Things had been so different then, and yet somehow still the same. (Only now, they get to kiss each other. A lot. And honestly, it’s the best.) There were a lot of emotions swirling around her this evening, and for somebody who once knew the dictionary like the back of her hand, Amy is finding it strangely difficult to find the right words. “You’re my best friend, Jake Peralta, and the love of my life. You’re it for me. And there’s no place in the world I’d rather be tonight.” Her lips press against his again, moving her hands to the either side of his face as he blushes sweetly. “I’m so in love with you. Sneaky attempts at payback and all.”

Jake laughs, wrapping his arms around Amy’s waist and pulling her closer, pressing his lips against hers as she allows herself to be tugged into his lap. She can feel her whole body melting against his as her arms rest against his shoulders, bending until her fingers are in his hair and his soft sighs are mixing with her own. There are some things that Amy could spend the rest of her life doing, and this was very close to the top of the list.

It’s a loud knock that eventually intrudes their makeout session, a mumbled delivery announcement barely audible over Amy’s TV playing in the background. Reluctantly, Amy pulls away from Jake, reaching down to muss his hair up one last time as she stands, stretching out her limbs before walking over to the door.

The delivery driver can’t have been any more than eighteen: obviously ecstatic about working on New Years Eve with his wet, crumpled uniform stretched out over a Pantera sweatshirt; grunting in Amy’s direction as she takes the items, already turning to leave before she can even say thank you. Kicking the door shut with her feet, Amy rests the pizza box along her stretched out forearm, balancing the container of pierogi’s on top and nudging open the lid so that she can breath in the familiar smell.

Mmmm. They were obviously fresh - the steam still escaping - and they smelt just like she’d hoped. Her shoulder begin to jiggle and; foregoing plates and cutlery in favour of containers on the couch with Jake, she makes her way through to the living room, butt shaking into a happy dance as she goes.

Jake looks up from pouring out two glasses of wine and winces in Amy’s direction. “Awww, honey. I don’t think that’s doing what you think it’s doing for you.”

Bouncing onto the balls of her feet, Amy struts over to Jake with a curious look. “What do you mean?”

He slaps a hand against the edge of his mouth, splaying out his fingers in a weak attempt to conceal his grin. “You’ve got some real dorky dance moves happening right there, Ames.”

“Hey! Just earlier tonight you called my dancing SEXY!”

“I mean, technically, I called YOU sexy, and then added the word dancing. But then you said something about me being in love and I just really, really wanted to kiss you, so I just kinda went with it.” His eyebrows lift, eyes turning soft as he takes in the pout that’s fallen over Amy’s face. “And … ya know, if it helps, everything about you is sexy, Ames. The dancing is just one of the more … I dunno, adorably awkward things you do.”

Settling back into the couch, Amy watches her boyfriend spread out their dinner order, dutifully laying out napkins in front of each before dishing out a generous serve of pierogis onto hers, lifting the lid on his pizza and grinning at the well-stacked toppings. Pulling out a slice he grins in Amy’s direction as the melted cheese clings to the base, creating a curtain of strings between his hand and the box, and she cannot help but laugh at the joy on his face. This man loves her, even with all of her dorky dance moves, and she just might be the luckiest woman on the planet.

The hours of the night disappear amongst distractions; glasses of wine and hours of talking about everything and anything, until the quiet concentration of the last movie disappears into a serious session of kissing - Jake laying on the couch and Amy stretched out comfortably on top of him. It had felt like forever since they’d had the chance to spend a night like this, and as Jake’s gentle hands roam over Amy’s body, she silently wishes for the night to never end. The fort that he had made for them felt like a barrier - a shield protecting them from the rest of the world, and it might have been selfish; but tonight, this is exactly what they had needed.

Tonight was about Jake and Amy: rejoicing in the fact that no matter how far the universe tried to pull them apart, the most simplest of truths was that they would always come back to each other.

Slowly, Amy rears her head back; dropping a soft kiss to Jake’s swollen lips when he cranes his neck forward in a search for more. Smiling, she presses her body against Jake’s, rolling her hips just so and biting her lip at his responding moan. Beginning a trail of kisses along his jawline, she whispers into his ear - “C’mon, Peralta. Let’s go bring in this new year with a bang.”

“Oh, hell yeah.”

Sometimes, the fireworks you make together are greater than anything the world can offer.

#established relationship cuteness #perhaps fluff overload #but I couldn't help myself #gahh I hope you all like this!#mine #b99 2020 vision challenge #b99fanfic #b99fandomevents #Peraltiago New Years Eves #NYE throughout the seasons #Peraltiago Stylez #peraltiago fic #happy chinese new year

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coffeecomicsgalore · 5 years ago

Text

A Night to Remember

The Final Chapter!

Ao3

Chapter 22 – Justice

Rena Rouge, Carapace, and Chat Noir all stood in front of Lila, their arms crossed and faces infuriated as she continued her rants of fury. Ladybug walked up to Lila with a scowl of her own before grabbing the ribbon that was still tied around her ankle and yanking it off her.

“Oops.” Ladybug haphazardly said when Lila fell back from the action.

“Hey, you awful bug! I’ll squish you!”

“Sorry.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t think it was wound tightly around your foot. But either way, you won’t be squishing anything tonight. Not after what you’ve done here.”

Chat Noir walked up, placed his elbow on Ladybug’s shoulder and glared daggers at the girl. “You almost killed Adrien and I assume if you got your tentacles on Marinette, you would have done the same to her.”

“Maybe? I don’t know. I was akumatized after all.” She said with mock innocence. “You know akumatized victims can’t control their actions.”

“But yet, Hawkmoth told you to let him go and you continued to squeeze him until he passed out. I highly doubt you weren’t aware of your actions there.” Ladybug acknowledged the action with disgust laced in her tone. “I saw him zapping you, I’m assuming for disobedience.”

Lila looked away and flicked her loose strands away from her face before crossing her arms. “They ruined my life. They deserved every bit of what he got. I just wish I got to Marinette before you got to me.”

Rena Rouge’s and Carapace’s miraculous beeped in a sequential echo. Ladybug turned to Chat. “Chat, would you be a dear and handle that for me?”

“Certainly, my lady.” Chat said with a bow and left with both Rena Rouge and Carapace behind him.

Ladybug smiled with sincerity as she watched the three heroes leave the gymnasium. She turned back to Lila and her face returned with a grim scowl. She looked to the ribbon in her hands and sighed. With a hard toss to the air she yelled Miraculous Ladybug! and watched with amazement as the ladybugs flitted across the room, replacing everything damaged from the fight back to where it once was.

She heaved a sigh a relief as she watched Monsieur Davenport, the principal of the school, and Mlle. Bustier walk in along with him to confront the two.

“Lila.” M. Davenport sneered, his voice challenging Lila to muster another lie.

Lila swallowed thickly as she turned to the principal, a shred of worry revealing her fears.

“I have no idea what happened, sir! I was akumatized because Marinette put up the photos of me! I couldn’t control my anger!”

M. Davenport crossed his arms and scowled. “Try again.” He turned to Ladybug. “Thank you, Ladybug. We have this handled now.”

“I hope that this girl finally gets the reprimand that she needs for her lies.” Ladybug said with determination. Her earrings beeped reminding her of her impending transformation.

“Don’t worry, Ladybug,” another voice from behind them said with a hint of happiness, “she will. We were able to see footage of Mlle. Rossi before her transformation. She willingly gave herself to Hawkmoth and we watched the footage of her attack on M. Adrien Agreste.”

Everyone turned to the doorway to see Lieutenant Raincomprix walking through the doorway with another officer beside him. Ladybug nodded as she made her way out the door, acknowledging Adrien as he walked in.

A few minutes later, Marinette walked in with a look of mock fear as she searched the room for Adrien. When she eyed him, she visibly relaxed and ran towards him, keeping a watchful eye on the commotion in the room.

Lt. Raincomprix looked around the room to see the surrounding crowd watching the scene unfold in from of them. He landed his eyes on his daughter, Sabrina, who pointed to the photos on the wall. He took out his notebook and scratched something down. “It also looks like we will have to add vandalizing to the charges.”

“Char-Charges!?” Lila screamed. “What charges?”

“Mlle. Rossi,” the officer called her as he picked her up from the floor. He turned her arms behind her back and snapped a set of handcuffs to her wrists, “you are coming with us.”

“As I have said, Mlle. Rossi, you willingly gave yourself to a terrorist. We also received a phone call from M. Agreste that he would like to press charges on attacking his son with the intention of murder. Now there is photo evidence that you have trespassed and vandalized the gymnasium before an event.”

Marinette watched with enthusiasm as justice finally being served. It was a long time coming and most likely she will get a slap on the wrist, but at least she will finally be held for her actions. Adrien snaked his arms around her middle, kissing her temple in the process. His feeling on the matter was mutual.

The class watched as Lila was taken away with the police, M. Davenport following behind. Mlle. Bustier waited until the gym doors closed before clapping her hands in attention.

“Now everyone. We can try to continue the night as before this whole commotion started, or we can cancel the night and allow you all to go home and adjust to the situation at hand.”

The crowd spoke in a frenzied fury of words, all determining to state their choice on the matter.

She looked around the room until her eyes landed on Marinette and commanded her forward. Marinette acknowledged the action and walked towards her, smiling as she knew what she would do next.

“Marinette, you organized the event. Do you think we should continue?”

Marinette continued to smile as she watched the students quiet down and wait for her reply. “It looks like everyone came back to the event. I think we should continue.”

She nodded. “Alright then. Let’s have some fun!”

Nino started the music back up, kicking off the round of fun dancing ahead of them. Mdm. Cessaire looked over her banquet and indicated the food was ready to eat, allowing the students to grab plates in between their movements.

Marinette looked at the time in between feeding herself and dancing with her friends, and finally smiled when it was time for the next portion of the music. She took the stage to announce the next set, the crowd roared when Jagged Stone had come out from hiding with Fang in hand to belt out a few memorable songs to the waiting crowd.

Nino took another chance at a set of music as the pastries were set out by her parents. More dancing, chatter, and eating happened before Marinette nodded at the next band to take their place on the stage. Marinette again walked back out onto to stage to thank Nino for his great work tonight and announced Kitty Section to the relaxed crowd.

Kitty Section started with a fun tune before going into a set of slow dances helping ease the tired dancers with some slow movements.

Adrien took the opportunity to find Marinette and request a dance. He bowed in front of his lady as he grabbed her hand, placing a chaste peck to her knuckles. “Would this beautiful, magnificent, and amazing lady do me the honor of dancing with me?”

Marinette giggled before placing her free hand on his cheek. “Of course I will, my prince.”

Adrien walked out onto the dance floor with Marinette’s hand still held in his and spun her into place. He laid her hand on his shoulder before slowly caressing his hands down her sides before placing his hands on the small of her back. She shivered in his grasp before she glided her free hand up his arm, tightly wrapping both arms around his neck. She finished the movement with a smile and placed her head tenderly on his chest. She let out a sigh of contentment, the vibration from the action sent a happy shiver through Adrien’s body.

“Someone’s happy.” He said loudly enough for her ears only.

“How could I not be?” She said as she turned her head to look at him. “I have you right in my arms, safe and sound. All my friends are having the time of their lives. Jagged Stone, Kitty Section, and Nino have done amazingly well, considering everything that happened today. Mdm. Cessair’s food was delicious just as I had known it would. The baked goods were of course amazing. Is there anything else?” Marinette took one hand and tapped her chin knowingly. “Oh, that’s right. Justice was served.”

Adrien chuckled and shook his head. “You always amaze me, princess. You know that, right?”

“You know you are too? I could never do what I do without you. In any part of my life. You’re irreplaceable to me.”

He leaned down and kissed her. “I would marry you right now if I could.”

A mischievous grin crossed her lips. “What’s stopping you then?”

“I will marry you one day. Just not today. No matter how badly I want to. But I don’t think you want to get married in a school.”

She tilted her head in contemplation before shaking her head. “Yeah, you’re right. Definitely not in the school.”

They swayed to the music and slowed down to a stop when the song ended. The crowd clapped to the band before another slow song was played. Adrien nudged Marinette closer to him and led them through a comfortable silence of tender movements, both happy in each other’s arms.

A thought crossed Adrien’s mind and he smiled. “Do you remember the first time we danced?”

Marinette scrunched up her nose. “At Chloe’s party?”

“Yep. We were so awkward back then. But I’m glad I asked you to dance.”

“If I remember correctly, I bumped into you and then you grabbed my hand and just dragged me onto the floor.”

“But you liked it, don’t lie.

She pouted before giving in. “You’re right. I did, but I love this dance better.”

Adrien furrowed his brows. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because it’s hands down one of the best nights to ever happen. After getting our miraculous of course. Mostly because I can do this.” She kissed his neck sending another shiver down his spine. He responded in kind by lifting her chin and kissing her on the lips.

“Hm. That is a good reason. I couldn’t kiss you back then because we weren’t together.” He then pouted. “Aww. And here I thought that our first date on your balcony would be one of the best nights to ever happen to you.”

She giggled. “Okay, so maybe I have a few favorite nights then.”

Adrien squeezed her middle tenderly. “Well then. I’m glad that it’s at least on the list. It would have wounded me if that night was not considered at least one of the best nights of your life.”

“And I know there will definitely be more. But I do have to say this,” she reached up on her toes and placed a sweet, lingering kiss to his lips. “this was definitely a night to remember.”

#a night to remember #miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous fanfic #adrienette #final chapter

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lucindarobinsonvevo · 5 years ago

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This week, a record made and released by close collaborators Eerie, Indiana and Heart on a Chain received a re-release with a deluxe edition to celebrate its 20th birthday

Though the front cover of Marshall’s Theory of Believably, the joint album by bands Eerie, Indiana and Heart on a Chain names only those two bands, the project was a collaboration between all the members of the Indiana seven. The Indiana Seven were a close group of collaborators who had a close working relationship in the 90s, creating iconic tracks and albums. The cover, which depicts a lone man in a ghost costume was shot by Sara Sue, an artist/photographer who shot most of the Eerie, Indiana’s album covers, and a track labeled ‘we gave this track to Tod’ features the enigmatic artist known as Tod, who also helped on the band’s delayed record Broken Record. The album art is different from the works of both bands, with Eerie, Indiana frequently having a sort of DIY feel to their photoshoots and Heart on a Chain tending to the more abstract kind. These particular photos (remastered for the deluxe edition) depict various band members in the dessert wearing a sheet over their heads with large black eye holes. The cover is Holmes, peering from behind a large unlit bonfire at the viewer. The title is written in the handwriting of Janet Donner, who also features as the figure on the CD itself. Teller features on the back of the album, and the back page of the liner notes, waving goodbye. Inside the liner, there are images of X, with Monroe being absent, apparently due to having a broken leg at the time of the shoot following an incident at a waterpark.

The album features twelve tracks, with many of them focusing on the idea of cryptids and other mysterious entities to make up the metaphors of the song. On the idea for the Album, Donner said: We wanted to talk about love as we knew it. This broad, mysterious concept that so many people in their twenties make love out to be.” On what she thinks of love now, Donner then remarked: Love is being glad the world hasn’t ended yet. I’ll leave you to make of that what you will. On the album, both X and Teller have cited the other as an inspiration behind the tracks, which will not come as a surprise to anyone who frequently listens to Eerie, Indiana as the pairs sometimes tumultuous relationship is often at the center of the most controversial and interesting projects done by the band. But this album is, more than anything else, a happy one.

The first single released from this album was the track ‘Sometimes I Almost Miss You’ in the one-two punch style of Eerie, Indiana the track is titled like a break-up but is a love song. Over an energetic guitar track and drum machine, Monroe sings about the heart transplant she’d had some years before and how she believes that she can still feel the donor even though he’s (according to the lyrics) long gone and sweetly resting. The track is careful to avoid any religious implications, instead suggesting that the donor (who has since been identified as Devon Wilde) instead rests inside her chest. With X on the guitar and Holmes on the drum machine and (of all things) the triangle, Teller is free to singe verses from the perspective of the heart donor, viewing the world from inside Monroe’s chest while Donner provides very beautiful backing harmonies. The overall mood of the track is one of quiet love and happiness, as well as gratefulness to the young boy who gave her the second chance. Those familiar with the work of Heart on a Chain know that the transplant features heavily in their songs and it’s no surprise to see it here.

The second track released in the work was ‘Me and My Jackalope’ and fueled rumors about a relationship between Teller and his bandmate, Dash X. At the time, both were closeted at the request of the label to avoid scandal. “Being in the closest literally almost killed me.” Teller would reflect later, interviewing for a project he did, releasing tracks for an LGBT themed album in the 2000s.”The funny thing is, I don’t think anyone who listened to us gave a damn. We’d go on stage, and we used to stand so close our knuckles were almost touching getting up in each other’s face and people would just go crazy.” Me and My Jackalope is, as you may have guessed, a song about impossible love. A love that the singer, in this case, mostly Teller, keeps hidden under his bed, only bringing it out to play when he’s alone. It’s a slow, sad track with Teller crooning to his animal “If they saw you, then they’d send you away.” Both Holmes and Monroe are credited as writers on the track, with the usual Eerie, Indiana flavor of complicated guitar playing set aside in favor of Donner and a violin and Holmes playing an assortment of other instruments.

The third and final promotional single was meant to be Skylines, which lyrics from are also featured on the inside booklet of the album however at the last minute it was swapped out to the Meatloaf cover in the center of the album, Midnight at the Lost and Found due to ‘label meddling’ after it was decided they needed another upbeat track after Me and my Jackalope. The track is nothing special, a seemingly typical Eerie, Indiana cover. Eerie, Indiana frequently covered Meatloaf and Jim Stienman tracks, hoping to work with one or the other someday. Sadly, this collaboration never came to be. But it’s a fun song, much like the original version from the 1983 album by Meatloaf. Somewhat of a deep cut by today’s standards, but it’s fun. Which I think was probably the mission statement of this album if Dash X is to be believed (Yes, that’s his stage name, no I do not know his real name). ‘We were a bunch of 20 something friends given a studio and a year or two to do whatever we wanted. So we did whatever we wanted, which was being weird.’

Skylines and it’s reprise is a group effort, with every member of the group joining in with the writing process to produce something that could have gone astray but managed to come together into something coherent. Skylines covers the re-treaded ground of many bands, it’s a song set about missing people while on tour. Set against New York’s bright, iconic skyline the track is mostly led by Donner as she wonders what her lover is doing right now. Her lover, played by Teller wonders about if his lover will stay in New York, swept up by the bright skylines, and pleading for them to simply be theirs. The track has backing vocals from all of the members involved, including Holmes who mostly shies away from singing parts. ‘It’s not that I don’t love to sing.” He explains, “I’m just not very good at it. Marshall was always the singer, I’m much happier playing the drums, or a cello or something.”

The final track on the album, clocking in at nine minutes, is Cryptids (I Still Believe in You and Me). This track shows off the impressive guitar skills of Teller and X, this time paired with the violin playing from Donner who shows she can keep up with the boys by playing speedy, intense sections with precision. This Dash X penned track also has extensive work by Holmes on the drums and a solo from a very jazz saxophone in the third act. Ultimately, the song doesn’t quite come together, feeling disjointed and a little over-complicated. But...Maybe that’s how it’s meant to feel. Dash was never brought into Eerie, Indiana as a writer, he was brought on to foil with Marshall on stage and because he was the only person the label could find that could play the punishingly difficult riffs Teller produces. On his Instagram speaking about pride X has suggested that a lot of his music was changed during production because it was too overtly about men, while Donner and Teller both proficiently changed pronouns in there songs, or stuck to calling their love interests you.

The album has three tracks that feel like filler, the intermission track which is not unusual on the cinematic, large scale Eerie, Indiana albums, a seemingly ‘story’ track called ‘Lost in Time’ which is a piece of Holmes poetry performed by Donner and an odd little track called ‘We Gave This One To Tod’ While the enigmatic Tod was often credited on Eerie, Indiana albums and opened for them at live shows he never quite reached the level of recognition his peers did. However, seeing the bizarre and experimental nature of his work, and his goth and punk leanings I think it’s safe to assume he was happier underground than his friends were blinded by the lights of showbiz. This piece features heavy synths and a drum machine. It doesn’t hit for me, but perhaps for a fan of Tod, it could be a holy grail.

On this version of the album, known as the deluxe edition, we’re given three additional tracks. A demo version of Elvis and the Mothman, which is lyrically the same slowed all the way down with the shouting chorus replaced with a mouth against the mic crooner style. The released, upbeat anthem style track is a far better fit for the album. Baba Yaga in Heels is a Heart on a Chain only track, perhaps why it was discarded. It features a techno style dance beat, with the lyrics being about a night out with Baba Yaga, a Banshee, and a harpy. Ultimately, the lyrics are not that impactful but they don’t need to be. The final listed track is a cover of Meatloaf’s Bat out of Hell, which lyrically and sonically is almost identical to the original.

Overall, what Marshall’s theory of Believability tries to do is ambitious. It’s an album between two experiential groups of friends trying to make something that they enjoy. But it’s not the best work of either group, which is a shame because it could have been something very special if they were given a little more time to work out some of the kinks and if they pruned some of the tracks that are superfluous to the story of the album. I’m happy to have a copy in my collection, but honestly, I’d rather listen to something the group produced independently anyway.

#eerie indiana #mitziedits #(eerie indiana as albums cinematic universe)

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3wisellamas · 6 years ago

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Hey, remember my pet cracktheory that Darrell is a clone of Laserblast, or is somehow connected to him in some way? I finally cleaned up and sorted out my full list of weird things I’ve noticed that they both have in common, or that otherwise support that, or are just weird about this stupid robot in general. Because I wasn’t fucking joking about there being a lot of it. Probably not gonna actually amount to anything, especially with not much series left, but meh. It’s fun. Enjoy.

---

Appearance/Body:

(Okay, I admit most of this section was pretty much killed by Darrell's canon human form in OK AU, which looked NOTHING like Laser at all. But just in case...)

-Identical body shape/proportions to LB/SF, with wider torso/hips and very thin waist -- maybe a little smaller because he's a teen (and a robot)

-Very close head shape to LB/SF/PV: square jaw (when it’s not exaggerated to make him cuter), similar rectangular shape and proportions if you include the braincase (since it would normally be inside his skull)

-LB's mask looks a LOT like Darrell's head, with the entire top half and most of the sides of his head covered and with circular ear...things

-That mask also tends to be quite expressive, almost functioning as a single eye sometimes

-Their big heavy boots are also kinda similar (Though honestly Darrell's boots look slightly more like Chip Damage's...)

-LB is based off of the superhero Cyclops, and Darrell is literally a cyclops

-Only robot that really seems to have an organic, human brain, and has human feet too along with Shannon -- even for just the feet, someone's DNA has to be cloned to make him, and not necessarily Boxman's.

-Darrell can grow stubble, according to that one tiny joke shot in Let's Watch the Boxmore Show; his face may be organic just like his brain and feet. Also worth noting, the specific spots on the side of the jaw where LB's/SF's stubble shows are covered by metal for Darrell -- when comparing Darrell and LB, each character's most distinctive visible features (one eye and brain, cheek stubble) are covered up on the other!

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Costumes:

-Darrell seems to enjoy dressing up as a HERO -- when he's in cowboy mode he plays a sheriff, and when the bots play Golden Statues he always plays the museum guard, both specifically hero roles!

-In fact, the costumes in general -- he definitely likes pretending he's someone else, rather than just being fashionable like his siblings.

-LB and SF both hide their eyes, and may have something unusual/distinctive about them, especially with Laser because of his eye-based powers. LB!SF in particular would hide his if there was something that might immediately get him recognized as his former identity. Perhaps only having one eye (hence the visor acting as one on occasion like I pointed out)? (We got to see behind LB's mask once in Gar's fear sequence in Face Your Fears, with one red eye showing where the mask was broken, but there it did look like he had two. However, Gar would never have seen what was ACTUALLY under there...)

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Habits/Personality:

-LB was an anti-hero, willing to do some fucked-up things in the name of good, while Darrell is an anti-villain, who focuses more on just doing his job, having fun, and trying to make his father happy than crushing the heroes out of malice

-Darrell's also just a terrible villain in general. Of course, he's directly killed another villain (or tried to anyway), and his idea of doing the most evilest thing was reporting Boxman's lies to the board and stopping him, AKA doing the RIGHT thing -- even with the betrayal, not very villainous of him, huh?

-Weird shared oral fixation? There's a very unusual emphasis on food/mouth things with Darrell (his lowkey obsession with eating, spitting Boxman into the spitoon in his office, brushing his teeth), and LB's trademark was always having that lollipop in his mouth.

-Hugging soft cute animals, like Rippy and Fink

-Darrell writes in concrete in You're Level 100, and LB does the same using his eye laser in Glory Days (in the POINT theme song)

-Neither one is a big fan of new members of their respective teams right away. LB refused to take junior members with him in both Glory Days and Let's Take a Moment, and doesn't seem to think much of them in either episode at all, aside from Silver Spark (and then, he still left her behind as one of his lookouts). Darrell...just freaking HATES new siblings at first, having a problem with every single one he gets, at least the ones we've seen (we didn't get to see his and Mikayla's introduction). He's also like this to siblings he considers inferior to him, to a point -- he and Shannon both got pretty jealous when Boxman started praising Jethro's "new moves."

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Boxman stuff:

-Timing is correct, Darrell and the others were created right after LB disappeared according to Lad and Logic, since Boxman only drew the first three members in his original plans to attack POINT, and Gar was already building the plaza by the time Boxmore was opened. This means the Boxbot quadruplets and KO were actually born around the same time, making them all 6-11 years old, roughly the same amount of time that's passed since the Sandwich Incident.

-Boxy was obsessed with POINT at that time (and still is, since he's kept the coordinates for POINT HQ memorized), and possibly LB himself (given his later attraction to PV)

-Boxman may also have some POINT tech and connections of his own? First off, access to a huge supply of glorbs, the easiest and closest source of which Foxtail and Carol have been protecting and heavily monitoring, and are normally very hard for non-heroes to get their hands on. Second, those boxes he sends the robots to attack in might use the same wormhole tech as POINT Prep's bus, since it looks a little similar both in transit and emerging at its destination, plus its driver sounds exactly like Ernesto. And speaking of Ernesto, that one time he straight-up drew a POINT drone as part of a family portrait…

---

POINT stuff:

-There were six members of POINT before the Sandwich Incident, and LB was one of the original three, and seemed to function as co-leader alongside Foxtail. There are six Boxbots, and Darrell was one of the original four, and kinda leads them in battle alongside Shannon, especially once he becomes CEO.

-And coincidentally, the original six members of POINT also share colors and in some cases roles with the Boxbots -- Shannon and Foxtail are orange, Greyman and Ernesto are purple, El-Bow and Jethro are blue, Rippy and Raymond are green, Silver Spark is...difficult but her hair is pretty distinctive and works with Mikayla for yellow, and of course, Darrell and Laser are red. The robots' colors and relative ages even match POINT'S senior/junior members, with Greyman, Laser, and Foxtail representing three of the older Boxbots, and then Rippy, Silver Spark, and El-Bow representing the two newer ones and Jethro, who only recently was able to show his true personality/potential.

-"Junior Members" = "Junior Deputies"

-"Code Vermillion." I made an entire post on this a while back, but to summarize, Vermillion is a bright, slightly orange-y red, and in most episodes is Darrell's exact color. And Vermillion, as a red pigment, tends to darken over time into purple and black -- and SF and PV have connections to both glorbs (which Code Vermillion refers to), and to LB as well.

-Darrell has a bunch of weird similarities to Chip Damage as well, who is basically Laser's replacement at POINT, minus being the Charisma discipline rep: Robots made right after LB got iced, green powers, special limited-edition costumes/POW cards, similar dark gray boots, the remote controls (Wisdom class blackboard for Darrell, Final Exams for Chip), possibly both made with actual brain tissue (The flashback to Chip's creation had a brain on one of Greyman's screens), etc. Also, a dumb one, but...remember those Double-Dipped (KO and TKO?) Laser Chips (self-explanatory), that are "probably just a limited-edition" (Darrell).

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Other assorted weird things:

-Darrell’s laser eye attachment shown in Stop Attacking the Plaza -- still being worked on in the episode (and it looks like it has been for a while, since it had been some time since Boxman was in that specific lab...), but used by a Big Darrell in the opening, where it produces a very similar (green) copy of LB's beam.

-Darrell is right-handed, in a left-handed family -- he's shown eating with his right hand in Stop Attacking the Plaza while everyone else is using their left, looks like he’s wielding a lightsaber right-handed in Plaza Film Festival, and draws with his right hand in Villains Night In. Left-handedness is often associated with villains in fiction, so he may not be a full one? (Definitely not as sinister as the rest of them, hehe.) Though, some instances of Darrell using his left hand too, and other bots using their right, so I dunno how strong this particular point is.

-Line to keep an eye on: "Just reboot yourself into a new body! I do it all the time for funsies!" from Rad Likes Robots. Related, Darrell reboots by exploding himself, which is how LB may have "died" and took on a new identity (if he's SF)

-Weird shit from Let's Not Be Skeletons: Potato demonstrates a skeleton remote wearing a cowboy hat, and in addition to turning people into skeletons they remove powers, just like that red orb, and they also left Rad's and Enid's boots intact for some reason. Darrell's also one of the biggest customers of the remotes, using his foes' weapons against them ("What do you say we snag more of them before they fall into the wrong hands? We could even use them against our foes!")

-When we first saw TKO's power manifest in You're Level 100, it was while KO was trying to defeat a giant superpowered Darrell. When we first saw TKO in physical form in Face Your Fears (as KO's "evil burp"), he was sent out to defeat a giant superpowered Laserblast head. When we next saw TKO in, well, TKO (as his true self for the first time), he defeated another giant superpowered Darrell!

-Really dumb one, the letter right before C and D is B, so the acronyms LB and LCD may be a thing?

---

Turbo/SF/TKO connections, just in case those turn out to be related to Laser as well:

(Under the cut, since this is long enough already!)

-SF hints that negative emotions, particularly anger, fuel Turbo powers. Darrell has quite a few jealousy and anger issues in general -- "Gets flustered by petty insults," HATES new younger siblings (or existing siblings showing him up and getting more of dad’s attention), etc -- and seems to be way more capable of mayhem than usual when running on these emotions. They even gave him the power to defy his programming and (attempt to) kill Boxman!

-He can also have his power boosted by a ton in a very short amount of time, from level -4 up (down?) to level -100 and able to destroy the plaza in one shot, and for as brief as that level -100 thing was he STILL has yet to be topped as the most powerful villain in the entire series! But, Boxman doesn't do it often -- even regular Big Darrells are implied to NOT be that powerful normally. Perhaps he's holding Darrell back for a reason?

-A lot of emphasis on his brain, similar to TKO: the visible brain is obvious, he has the most noticeable hivemind, and he pilots Big Darrells from inside their braincases similar to how KO and TKO controlled Big KO (even the name's similar!) in TKO's House

-Also, he doesn't have to glitch or change colors with his mood like Shannon does, he can make decisions and go against his programming all on his own -- perhaps he runs mostly on that meat brain? Or maybe his brain is actually a mass of pink glorbs like Jethro got in I Am Jethro that unlocked his intelligence and potential?

-SF's speech to KO in TKO: "Everyone holds you back because they're afraid of your raw, natural ability. They want you small and nice, blissfully unaware of your true potential." Darrell in Lord Cowboy Darrell: "Nobody's gonna hold me back." Shannon to Darrell in Plaza Film Festival: "Where do you think you got all that natural talent?"

-TKO ultimately came out of wanting recognition from his boss. LCD ultimately came out of wanting recognition from his boss.

-That VERY noticeable purple glow in the "I'm the Daddy now!" scene in Lord Cowboy Darrell. Like, to the point it seemed specially painted for emphasis, rather than the normal animation.

-Also, Junior is pretty heavy evidence that Turbo powers do not necessarily = purple, as Junior's powers were all green (and so were Chip's Turbo-ish powerups!) Darrell also has green powers (that even carried over to his human alternate in OK AU, despite Shannon and Raymond getting Enid’s and Rad’s exact same powers and colors), and is sometimes surrounded by Turbo-esque greenish lightning when he's angry, the best example being at the beginning of Legends of Mr Gar after being trash talked (remember that he can't take petty insults; he was PISSED there!)

-(If it looks like I’m insinuating Darrell’s secretly got more power under the hood than even he realizes, I absolutely am.)

-Darrell still has his dark hooded cloak from the pilot, which looks a little like SF's.

-Darrell's the only one who wasn't invited to Junior's funeral, and doesn't give half a shit, instead using it as an opportunity to betray people and take on a new identity. Possibly like LB faking his own death, therefore not attending his own funeral, and taking on a new identity as SF?

-Sneaking through the vents = sneaking through the pipes (SF, maybe how LB survived given that pipe in Let's Take a Moment)?

-Weird broken halo imagery shared between both Darrell and SF in TKO. (Not my observation actually, pointed out by @david-yells-about-cartoons ) Darrell's cloud halo thing in that episode also looks almost exactly like the clouds swirling above KO as he shoots a power fist for the first time at the end of Let's Be Friends…

#ok ko #ok ko let's be heroes #ok ko darrell #ok ko laserblast #ok ko shadowy figure #emtheories

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degenerate-perturbation · 5 years ago

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Chapters: 12/? Fandom: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Female Amell/Female Surana Characters: Female Amell, Female Surana, Anders, Velanna, Nathaniel Howe, Oghren (Dragon Age), Justice (Dragon Age), Sigrun (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Self-Harm, Blood Magic Series: Part 2 of void and light, blood and spirit Summary: Amell and Surana are out of the Circle, and are now free to build a life together. But when the prison doors fly open, what do you have in common with the one shackled next to you, save for the chains that bound you both?

Yvanne fled.

Her loose robe tangled among her legs, and her slippers did nothing to protect her clumsy feet from the hewn stone of the castle’s passageways, but her only thought was to escape. More than once she slammed her shoulder into a wall, hard enough that it would bruise. She made it to the stables and was wrestling her favored rowan mare into a saddle when it occurred to her just what it was, that she was sacrificing. She was leaving everyone behind. Didn’t she owe it to them to explain?

No—she didn’t owe anyone shit, she decided, and anyway, she couldn’t stand the shame, couldn’t stand to be cared about, couldn’t stand to be loved. Her first and only need was to be far away from here, immediately.

The mare was recalcitrant, feeling its rider’s disturbed mood in that careful way horses had. Yvanne calmed it with a spell, all but took the mare’s mind with her so-called healing magic, and as soon as she mounted, it was off. Yvanne could barely stay upright as it bolted. Belatedly she realized that the main gate was down, and barely in time cast a spell of pure force. The gate exploded open, and only magic kept the mare from panicking and throwing her.

She clung to the horse’s neck, galloping down the road in the dead of night. What road, she couldn’t say, only that it lead away from Vigil’s Keep. The air rushed past her, stealing her warmth, deafening her senses.

All she could think of was Loriel’s face. Are you telling me to go? And the long, meaningful silence that had followed.

Every time she remembered it—and this was every handful of seconds, now—it hurt all over again.

She had tried so hard! She had done everything right! She had supported her at every turn, even when it had been hard, even when it hurt. Because they had been through so much together, because their lives were each other’s, because this thing between them mattered.

And this thing between them, wrested from the jaws of Chantry and Circle both, this beautiful shining thing so precious and so rare so hard won and mysterious—Loriel had thrown it away like it was nothing. And Yvanne had let her.

How could she just throw it away?

How could it mean nothing?

How? How? How? The question rattled around in her head like a deafening echo, so total and central to her attention, that she failed to notice the lowered quality of the road ahead—how could she, in the dark?—and the mare’s leg disappeared into a sinkhole. She barely heard the snap of broken bone as she was thrown from the panicking mare.

Pain exploded in her shoulder and head. She’d landed not exactly well, but not badly, either—she was still alive. She sat catching her breath, feeling the pain radiate from her shoulder across her whole body, barely noticed the layers of skin scraped away in the fall. The mare was worse off; its eyes rolled wildly in pain and bewilderment, laying on its side.

She healed herself first, then went to the horse. Normally an injury like this was death to the animal; the bone would never heal right. Even magical healing was essentially normal healing but faster. She was a decent healer, but not amazing; the shoulder she’d just healed was still stiff and smarting, and probably would be that way for a while. It would have been kindest to let the poor animal die.

“Sorry, old girl,” she said, gathering a cohort of wisps to help her.

After several minutes of struggle, the mare was up again. The leg hadn’t healed quite properly, and the horse’s eyes were filmed with pain. But there were spells for that.

She remounted, and rode hard. The mare didn’t stop or slow or stumble, enveloped as she was with layers and layers of creation magic. Yvanne didn’t know how long the magic or the mare would last, and she didn’t care.

By the time the sun broke over the horizon, she had driven the animal at full gallop for nearly the whole night, and no amount of magic could keep it from expiring of exhaustion out from under her.

This time the fall was less abrupt, the poor creature slowing gradually and collapsing. Yvanne narrowly avoided being crushed beneath it, scrambling to heal it again—but there was no hope this time. The mare was dead, and Yvanne couldn’t bring back the dead.

She sat by the side of the road, leaning against the corpse of the mare, and cried. The mare had been a good horse, sweet-tempered and faithful, and for almost no reason at all Yvanne had killed it. Suddenly the mare’s death was the greatest tragedy in the history of all Thedas, made all the worse by the beauty of the sunrise and song of the morning lark. Yvanne sobbed until she couldn’t stand it anymore.

After a while she looked up. The sun had fully risen by now, but the air was still cold. Gradually it dawned on her just what a bad way she was in—half-dressed, not a thing to her name, filthy and tired and hungry, stranded on the highway in the middle of nowhere in particular. The whole ride her head had been filled with the grand emotional tragedies of love and loss and disappointment, but all that faded rapidly, to be replaced by a prosaic, deeply banal fear.

Whatever was going to become of her?

She looked back the way she’d come. Her whole life was there, her friends, her things, her vocation. Everything she’d built, everything she’d striven for, was back at Vigil’s Keep.

That way was barred to her now.

She could stay here with the dead horse, or she could go on.

Struggling up, she faced the road before her, and began to walk.

—

She walked for most of the morning. By now her thirst had outstripped her hunger. Her throat was parched, and she struggled not to sway as she walked. Even magic was no help; weakened as she was by her own rash foolishness, her mana restored too slowly to be of any use.

When the sun was nearly at its zenith, she heard the creak of wagon wheels and clop of horse’s hooves behind her.

There was nowhere to go; this section of the road crossed through wide open plains and gently rolling hills. Even if she’d wanted to hide she couldn’t have. She had no sword, no weapon at all, and all her half-forgotten training as an arcane warrior was worthless without one.

Whatever was coming, she would have to deal with it.

She got out of the road, stepping over the gutter to stand in the grass. A cart leashed to a pair of mules approached. The driver was a round-bellied man dressed not richly, but neither like a peasant. His cart was well-laden, judging by the patient speed his mules walked with.

He slowed as he approached, tugging on the reins. “Ho there, stranger. What circumstance has brought an unaccompanied young lady of such beauty to travel alone and unladen?”

She struggled not to glare at him, looking at the ground. “My business is my own.”

He laughed. “Very well, then! Am I to assume that dead horse I saw some miles behind me was once yours?”

No point in lying. “Yes.”

The merchant sadly shook his head. “Poor creature. What happened to it?”

“It died.”

“Alright, then. I see you have the situation well in hand. I’ll be on my way.”

Electricity surged through her. “W-wait!” she stuttered, swallowing a great deal of pride as she did.

The merchant stopped halfway through flicking the reins.

Yvanne hung her head, humiliated. “Ser, where are you headed, if I may ask?”

“To Highever, my dear.”

“How far is it?”

“Not far, not far. Less than a day at an easy pace, by cart.”

Less than a day. She was closer to Highever than to Vigil’s Keep. Highever would do.

“Could you take me there?”

“I could,” the merchant said. “But how will you make it worth my while?”

She took off one of her amulets. She had bought it in Amaranthine, and Loriel had said it was one of the gaudiest things she’d ever seen, and Yvanne had retorted that surely she had, she’d seen the rest of Yvanne’s jewelry. “Will this do? It’s enchanted.” She went on, half-manic. “It protects the wearer from harm. Ask any enchanter when you get to Highever, they’ll tell you it’s real, I swear.”

The merchant’s eyes glinted as he saw the gem glitter on its chain. “Yes, that will do nicely.” He snatched it up, as though she was going to take it back, and tucked it into his coat. Then he moved over in the driver’s seat to make room for her. “Come and sit by me, young lady. You can enchant me with conversation, as part of your payment for passage.”

She really just wanted to sleep in the back of the cart, but she could tell she had no choice. She took her seat.

“Will you do me the honor of telling me your name?” the merchant said.

“It’s...Leliana,” Yvanne said.

“Leliana. That’s a beautiful name. Is it Orlesian?”

“I dunno. I’ve never been to Orlais.”

That was the right thing to say; the merchant had been to Orlais, and was content to spend the next several minutes telling her all about the glory of the markets of Val Royeux, the colored silks, the fine clothing, the masks and intrigues of it all. While he prattled, Yvanne let herself relax.

“Forgive me—I’ve been rude,” the merchant said, startling her out of her stupor. “You must be weary.”

He offered her a waterskin, dried jerky, and bread that was only somewhat stale. All this she devoured so quickly it hurt going down. The merchant chuckled to see it, and she didn’t have nearly enough energy to be irritated at him for it. She was too busy being grateful.

The food and water granted her enough energy to restore her magical resources; at least enough that she could layer enough creation spells over herself to feel alert and capable again. Subtly, subtly, so as not to alert the merchant. She didn’t need him knowing what she was, Warden or not. She so badly wanted to sleep; the back of the cart was so tempting, there among the sacks of goods. But she didn’t dare sleep, in this stranger’s cart.

The whole road to Highever he prattled cheerfully about his journeys, requiring only the most token of responses from Yvanne. This was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing, that she didn’t have to do much talking; a curse, that it left her mind free to wander.

That’s just it, isn’t it? You don’t understand, and you never will. You never will. You never will. You never—

“But I’m boring you, aren’t I?” the merchant said jovially.

“No!” she said. “No, I...I’m just tired. How much further to Highever?”

“We’ve just passed the village of Hornbill, so I wager not much longer than an hour,” said the merchant. “Plenty of time, in fact, for you to explain how you managed to escape your Circle.”

Yvanne froze.

“Oh, come now,” said the merchant. “Surely you don’t think me quite so dull as all that. You are a mage, are you not? Don’t try to deny it.”

“What makes you think I’m a mage?”

“I’ve been here and again, I can tell a woman on the run when I see one.”

“That doesn’t mean mage. You don’t know what I’m running from.”

He chuckled. “True, true. Only you stink of lyrium. I wasn’t sure until you came closer, but at this range? No question of what you are, my dear. Come now, tell me where you’ve escaped from? Wycome? Kinloch? Surely not Kirkwall.”

“I didn’t escape,” she said. “I’m a free mage. A Grey Warden.”

The merchant snorted. “I’m sure. I suppose you were there atop Fort Drakon when the Hero of Ferelden slew the Archdemon, too?”

“I have papers—”

The merchant chuckled. “Papers, hah! Good one. As though I’ve never forged a document in my day. You must think me very stupid—but I assure you, I’m merely old. Now how about telling me the truth?”

Yvanne said nothing. What could she say? She wasn’t in uniform. Right now she wasn’t Warden-Commander Yvanne Amell, local hero to thousands, an imposing Grey Warden who deserved respect. She was underdressed and unkempt and covered in mud. Even she wouldn’t have believed herself.

“Very well,” the merchant harrumphed. “Keep your secrets. Don’t worry, I don’t intend to turn you over to the Templars.”

“You aren’t?”

He smiled at her. “Of course, my silence isn’t free. You can start by turning over the rest of your pretty baubles.”

At first she didn’t know how to respond. “You’re extorting me for jewelry?” she managed, then scoffed. “This stuff’s worthless, you realize.”

The merchant shrugged. “I’d wager they’re all as valuable or more than the one you gave me, as you were so willing to part from it. Come on, now, I gave you a valuable tip about the lyrium smell. You’ll want to find new clothes in Highever, maybe cut your hair. That’ll help hide it.”

Yvanne’s mind raced. The jewelry she’d been wearing when she’d fled, most of it enchanted with runes to make her spirit magic stronger—a lucky thing that she’d fallen asleep still wearing it—was far from worthless. In fact it was probably her only source of income for the foreseeable future. And she had no guarantee that this wretched man with his piggy eyes and curdled smile wouldn’t simply rob her and call the Templars anyway.

She had the legal grounds to challenge them, but since when did Templars mind the law?

“Thinking of killing me with magic, my dear?” the merchant said as her silence stretched on. “I wouldn’t recommend that. My route is well known to many, and I would be missed. Any fool would be able to tell I’d been killed by unnatural means, and that means Templars investigating, and I’m sure you’d prefer to avoid that.”

At that point the cart hit something in the road; something big enough to break the wheel and send the whole thing pitching to the side. The mules brayed and the merchant, swearing, brought them to a halt. He sighed and muttered something about always some damn thing and nobody maintaining the roads properly these days.

He got out of the driver’s seat and went around to look at the damage. If he had looked carefully, he might have noticed the ridge of earth that had splintered the wheel, with its sharp ninety-degree edges, was clearly unnatural. If he had not been so self-satisfied with his extortion scheme, he might have noticed Yvanne casting the spell that had put it there. And he might have noticed the glyph of paralysis she had placed by the wheel while he had wasted precious moments walking around the side of the cart.

As it was, he did none of those things, and found himself frozen in a half-bent position for the next minute at least.

Yvanne let out a breath.

“That’s not true, you know, about it being obvious you’d been killed by unnatural means,” she said. “I could slit your throat right now, and everybody would assume it was bandits.”

The merchant said nothing. Predictably.

“That was a very stupid thing to do for some jewelry,” she said.

She could have just slit his throat. No one would ever be the wiser, and she’d never have to worry about him again. She could even take his cart, and trade his goods, sell his mules; live on the income for months. If she let him go, she’d always be looking over her shoulder. Maybe get into altercations, with Templars, with others. Maybe have to kill even more people. More probably, get killed herself.

She remembered what it had felt like, to threaten Rolan, to really consider killing a helpless man, and—no, she would not do that.

The paralysis glyph was wearing off. She replaced it with a force cage just in time. The merchant regained the use of his limbs and fell to his knees, beating at the inside of the force cage with both fists. Whatever vile things he was shouting, Yvanne couldn’t hear them.

“Thanks for the tip about the lyrium smell,” she said. “And the food. I wouldn't have been able to cast anything without that. So thank you for that, and the ride, as well.” He couldn’t hear any of it, but she felt the need to say it.

Yvanne reached into the Fade and drew from it a spirit of Forgetting. It was a small thing, not much more than a wisp, just barely beginning to form an identity as Forgetting rather than an amorphous blob of Fade-stuff. It fluttered around her, curious, eager to take what memories it could. She gently directed it away from herself, towards the merchant.

She saw the panic in his eyes as he realized what was happening; she supposed he thought she was putting a demon in him, or something heinous like that. The spirit entered him, and he collapsed.

She hoped that the spirit would only take the past couple days from him, recent fresh memories—Yvanne’s face and existence at the least—and not much more. A few weeks at the most. Some larger spirits of this nature could erase a person’s whole life without meaning to. Victims would forget their lives, their names, every skill they’d learned since leaving diapers, ended up as drooling infants blank as the day they were born. It was horrifically sad to behold.

But this wouldn’t happen to the merchant, Yvanne assured herself. The spirit was small. A few weeks at the most.

The force cage faded, but the merchant didn’t move. He’d be unconscious for some time. Best that Yvanne be far away from here by then.

While he lay in the dirt she retrieved her amulet, then rifled through the contents of the cart. He carried mostly fine fabrics. She took the finest she could easily carry, and unharnessed one of the mules. It gazed at her with what she imagined was reproach. The merchant would only need one mule, with his lightened cart-load. He’d be fine. Confused, sure, but fine. It was more than what he deserved, for what he tried to do to her.

She ought to have killed him, she thought, leading the mule away. Vigil’s Keep had softened her, weakened her. It had made her forget what people were like.

She wouldn’t be forgetting again.

—

In Highever she sold the bolts of fabric and the mule first, just to be rid of them. It all came to far less than she’d hoped, and she came away thinking she ought to have bargained more, but it was enough for a change of clothes and a room at the first inn she saw. Not a nice room, but she got a hot meal and a bath in the bargain. There she scrubbed herself until she was sure the lyrium smell was gone. She’d grown so used to it that she’d forgotten how acrid-sharp it smelled to others, though she could only hope that the innkeeper and the merchants she’d traded with hadn’t recognized it. She thought about cutting her hair to be sure, but couldn’t bear it. Surely this one thing she could keep.

There she finally slept, in her shift and all her jewelry. Whatever dreams haunted her, she could not recall in the morning.

When she woke, evening had fallen again. The dark, the unfamiliar room, and the hard mattress disoriented her—this wasn’t her home. This wasn’t her bed. Why did her shoulder hurt? What had happened to her feet?Then she remembered.

You don’t understand, and you never will.

Maker, what had she done? Had the others noticed her absence yet? It had been nearly a full day, but she sometimes went many days without seeing those she counted friends. It might be a week or more until they all knew she’d fled. What would Loriel tell them? Would she tell them anything at all? Was she even thinking about her at all anymore?

She half-snarled and stumbled off the sagging mattress—and immediately slammed her foot into a bedside table so hard it splintered her big toenail.

She swore, bending to heal it—and hesitated. What if somebody saw? What if calling on magic at all made it easier for someone to spot her for what she was?

But she had Loriel’s parchment...didn’t she?

She rifled through her few possessions; the irrevocably ruined slippers, the torn and muddy house robe, the one bolt of cloth she wasn’t able to sell, a leather belt hung with pouches (mostly missing, now) of herbs, the plain linen dress she’d bought, though who knew if it would even fit her...

No parchment.

It was hardly surprising. She’d haphazardly jammed the document into her belt, and since then had fallen off a horse, twice. Who knew how long ago she’d lost it?

A heaviness settled in her chest, a weight like being deep underground. Now she didn’t have even the flimsiest of legal protections. And worse, she didn’t have Loriel’s handwriting, the only physical trace she had of her.

She hadn’t even read the full text before fleeing.

Loriel had done this to her. Had turned her out with nothing but a sheaf of parchment to her name. Had somehow foolishly believed that Loriel’s written word would protect her. The sheer arrogance of it all! To the void with her, to the void with her stupid bloody parchment. If Yvanne had still had it she would have burned it to a crisp. Her fists trembled, her eyes burned with fury, but she pushed herself up. To the void with her!

Yes, she was alone, she had almost nothing, and if the Templars found her, they would surely drag her back to Kinloch, and who knew what they’d do with her there. But she was damn well still alive, and she was going to live. And if Loriel didn’t want to do it with her, that was her fucking problem.

And, before the cloying darkness could settle in her chest again, Yvanne went downstairs to get a drink.

#dragon age #amell #surana #dragon age femslash #please read my wizard lesbian fanfiction

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05/25/2020 DAB Transcript

2 Samuel 7:1-8:18, John 14:15-31, Psalms 119:33-48, Proverbs 15:33

Today is the 25th day of May welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I am Brian it is great to be here with you today as we move ourselves into this new week, the last week of this…well…the last full week of this month. And as with all weeks and months we have some territory to cover. And the territory that we are covering right now, at least in the Old Testament, is in the book of second Samuel. And we are learning about David's ascension to the throne and his reign as king of Israel after King Saul's death in battle with the Philistines. Today second Samuel chapters 7 and 8.

Commentary:

Okay. So, as we moved through the weekend, we continued our journey through second Samuel, which led us deeper into the story of David and in particular his ascension to the throne. So, we know that Saul, you know, he saw a spiritist or medium and called up Samuel who told him he was gonna die in a day and he did and that was in a battle with the Philistines. And, you know, Saul and his sons died and they were beheaded and their bodies were hung from the walls of Beth-shan and all this happened while David was back in his…the town that he'd been given, the Philistine city of Ziklag. And he finds out that Saul is dead and there's a systematic posture of heart that David has that is really, really important to his ascension to the throne. So, when David finds out that Saul is dead, he finds out from an Amalekite who had been in the battle and who claims to have been the one who killed Saul. David's response is basically, “how would you dare touch God's anointed”, right? So, that man loses his life because he confessed or claimed to have done something David had an opportunity to do on a number of occasions but wouldn't dare. And the people see this. Like this is character that they are watching. And then David becomes king of Judah. So, one of the tribes of Israel. And he's raining from Hebron and there’s kind of all this tumult going on and there are a couple of other assassinations that happen. One was Saul's general, Abner. So, David's general was named Joab and Abner had killed Joab's…one of Joab's brothers in battle. So, as the intrigue happens David becomes king of…of Judah. Then the next in line in Saul's house Ishbosheth comes king of Israel, but in the end, Abner defects from Ishbosheth and comes to King David and says basically, you know, like “I can hand all the tribes over to you. They can all enter into a covenant with you and you can become a king.” So, as Abner's leaving from that meeting Joab finds out about it and in trickery assassinates Abner in a time that is peacetime, that is not war. So, these are…like Abner's a pretty famous person he’s the commander of the armies of Israel. So, his death doesn't go unnoticed and the people think that or assume that maybe David has something to do with that political assassination. So, they’re watching him. David has nothing to do with it. He mourns Abner. He tears his cloths. He writes songs. He calls out the injustice of it. And this is character. And this the people are watching because it's a stark contrast to the way Saul did things and his very paranoid sort of reactionary way. David's enemies are being done away with, but David hasn't done it and he mourns it, and this is turning the hearts of the people. And then finally Ishbosheth, the king of Israel, is assassinated and Ishbosheth’s head, the son of Saul, is brought to David. And again, same thing kinda happens. Like this person would have the audacity to touch God's anointed. And, so, this person is also…also loses…loses their life. But what becomes apparent then to the people is that David isn't trying to do away with the house of Saul, and basically trying to move through the country assassinating anyone with an allegiance to Saul to sort of wipe that out as has been custom, not only biblically but also historically all along. David didn't do these things and he mourned them, and he called them out as evil or wrong. And that helped the people like sort of coalesce around David because they could see the character, the same character that they had been seeing all along as he led Israel, even as he fled and was like on the run for his life. He treated with respect the office of the King. So, now we've reached this point at which David is fully in control. He is the king of all Israel. And what becomes sort of apparent as the days will go by is that once the pressure is off, once David's completely in control, that's when things start going a bit sideways and that is a lesson because that is how it is in our lives as well.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You for Your word and we thank You for bringing us into this week and we look forward to all that You will speak to us through Your word this week. And we take to heart what we read in the Proverbs today. “A fear of the Lord is instruction in wisdom.” And this year all along, this year of vision, this is a strange year that has come upon us. We began asking for eyes to see. We began understanding that wisdom is at every crossroads in our lives if we’ll slow down enough. He is calling out to us and the fear of the Lord is instruction in wisdom. Like we gain in wisdom as we have on fear and respect and are overwhelmed by who You are. And, so, we worship You and we humble ourselves before You. In fact, it’s not just a humble posture. It's a posture of completely surrender. We surrender to You, most high God and ask Your Holy Spirit to instruct us in wisdom. Come Jesus we pray. In Your mighty name. We ask. Amen.

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If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible you can do that dailyaudiobible.com as well and I thank you truly, humbly, deeply. The…I mean…I don't know how many times…I’ve said it hundreds of times over 15 years, but it's just a fact. None of this would be here if we weren’t in this together. That’s just a fact. And, so, a fact that we are a community and wrapped all over the world and we’re in this together and that this daily rhythm moving through the Bible, having some place in our lives that we can set aside and call it safe and serene and just hear from the Scriptures. Ahh…that’s a beautiful thing and it's amazing to me that we’ve been able to do this together. And, so, thank you for your partnership. So, there's a link on the homepage. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address, if you prefer, is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

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And that's it for today. I'm Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hi DAB family this is Joe from Pennsylvania just calling for prayer again. My wife and I are doing better in our relationship. I called about that a while ago. But I called for payer because we’re selling our house and moving, and the closing is scheduled for the 29th of May. Today’s the 21st in the morning. So, we have a lot to do and I’m kind of stressing about that, but we’re moving in with her mother-in-law…with my mother-in-law and my sister-in-law in their house. So, it’s gonna be a little bit of a downsizing for us and a little bit of an adjustment. But our main goal is to get out of debt because that has really hampered us the past couple of years, especially with this COVID thing, it’s only gotten worse. My daughter’s name is Victoria, my wife’s name is Teresa, and my name is Joe. If you could just pray for all of us that God would be with us in this next step and lead us and direct us and especially with our daughter. She’s 12, that He would…that He would give her a special touch and just relieve the anxiety for all of us. Thank you. Love you guys.

This message is for father of Josh, May 15th episode and who also lost his…his other son. And Josh, I pray for you. I cover you with the Lord’s protective right-hand. Our Lord is mighty to save and in the name of Jesus, Josh, I rebuke spirits of depression, anxiety, hatred of yourself, hatred of life. And Lord I pray that You would replace these lies and…and the enemy's vicious attacks on Josh, that You would replace it with Your presence oh God, Your Holy Spirit oh God, that You would fill Josh with an embrace of Your love, a witness to Your power, and Lord a new life that You are mighty to save. And Lord save Josh. Save him from himself. Save him from the enemy. Deliver him from this oppression. And Lord I pray that You would bless the family, the father, especially, with a spirit of wisdom that only comes from above, that it is filled with supernatural blessing of You Lord, that every step, every suggestion, every prescription, every introduction to any professional or counselor or friend Lord would just be so divinely ordered that it is exactly what Josh needs, it is a timely word, a timely embrace. And I pray for you Josh, I pray that this would draw …

Hey, DABbers I’m a new listserv my name Ephiniah I’m 23. And, yeah, I started listening back in January. It was on and off - distractions, life. And I’ve never really been into religion. I’ve never really prayed like that. I’m a new believer as well. I’ve known of God, but I didn’t know him and now in my life I want to because last summer I was in a dark place a bad relationship. I started praying heavily to Him because I needed help. And when He answered…it blew my mind how it happened…but when He answered it was like, “okay, hundred percent, you know, I hear you.” Thank you. And now you are more focus because emotions, feelings, all of that is difficult for me but it’s like I’ve always looked for things in other people. So, I do listen to sermons, all of it. I don’t read the Bible, that’s why I have this because, you know, it’s hard to read the Bible. But I know that whatever I need He can give me as long as I follow Him, and I trust Him, and I do trust Him. I pray for guidance, wisdom. Guide my path. You know just help me because I need You in my life. But I feel like am failing, like I’m not doing as I should. I know I’m not. I’m fighting temptation in myself. So, guys, just pray for me because whatever His will and purpose out of me is, I want to do it and I want to do it right. I just need strength.

Good morning family I’m calling for Ben, Mike in California’s son, a 14-year-old boy who ran away a couple of days ago. His father called in in anguish and filed a police report. Father, we call on You concerning our boy. You know where he is. You know his heart. You know what he’s going through right now. We’re calling on You to come to the rescue of this child, a beloved child of God that You’ve created at Your image. We pray that the pains and the hurt that caused him to run away, Father You will address them, that You will call him back to You, to Your love, to Your restoration, to Your relationship, to Your fellowship and return him home safely to his family, to his Father who’s calling in anguish asking for You to intervene Father. You are our Father. You are our maker. You know all our needs. You know us best than we know ourselves. We cry unto You Father. Please, show up, bring up our child, bring him home safely. Protect him where he is. Shower him with Your love. Let him hear Your voice. Call him back home in Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.

Hi this is Ruth from California. I heard you called in the other day about your daughter. I want you to know that you were in my heart along with your wife and your family. Your daughter is dealing with a difficult time in her life and I’m sure that she, you know, was upset with you because she doesn’t know how to rectify the situation. I don’t know where she is spiritually, but she needs a lot of love from you. She needs to know how much this family loves her, how much God loves her and that He’s there for her as well. Know in my heart I will be praying, and I’d love to hear how…how she comes to this because she will. But it’s a difficult thing for, especially, I think girls during this time in this __. I know I had it in my life and I wonder times who this…who the daughter was that I had, that she was not the daughter that I knew. But God willing He’ll bring her through it. And we love you and will keep you all in prayer. Bye-bye.

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silverlightqueen · 6 years ago

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and here is the final Roses playlist, Roses Mixtape Pt. IIII, enjoy x

tracklist

1. Intro: Karma - y/n = Alarm - Anne-Marie

Karma is about how angry y/n is at Jimin, but also at herself for ignoring her doubts about him. How she knew he was cold and detached and that should’ve alerted her to the fact that she shouldn’t have gotten with him. And for what they both did to each other, they’re both suffering from karma now.

2. Love Me - y/n = And I Am Telling You I’m Not Going - Jennifer Hudson

Love Me is really sad and emotional, and the part of y/n that refuses to give up on her relationship with Jimin comes out in this song. When I watch Jennifer Hudson do this song in Dreamgirls (I recommend watching it), it makes me cry every time because of the raw emotion and heartbreak you can see, and those exact same feelings come through in Love Me.

3. Shoes - y/n = If I Were A Boy - Beyonce

Shoes is y/n saying to Jimin that if she’d been in his shoes, she’d never have done what he did to her, and she’d also never be able to get away with the way he used to behave (the random girls every night and the drugs). Again, this is a very big song and so would be super emotional and upsetting because you’d just be able to hear the hurt in y/n’s voice.

4. Comfort - y/n, Chaeyoung & Jisoo = Teddy Bear - Melanie Martinez

I was kinda reluctant about this song at first but now, I feel like it works really well. y/n’s comfort zone, away from the pressures of her job, the tour, Vic and her past with Yoongi, was Jimin. He was her teddy bear in that she felt soothed and comfortable with him, just like kids do with their teddy bears, but then that thing that gave her the most comfort turned against her, and she has nothing to turn to anymore. Chaeyoung and Jisoo’s vocals would sound super pretty on this song, and also give it a haunting and creepy feeling.

5. Victory - y/n = The Winner Takes It All - ABBA

This is y/n’s admission to Jimin, her way of saying, ‘well done, you got what you wanted, you won, how does it feel now?’ It’s also slightly teasing, as if she’s asking him how his victory feels now he doesn’t have her anymore. It’s got quite bitter and angry undertone, but it’s mainly hopeless and completely sad.

6. Wounds - y/n & Blackpink = Bad Blood - Taylor Swift & Kendrick Lamar

This is the stage where she starts to get over the initial sadness and heartbreak and gets a bit angry at him, saying she hates him and she can never move past what he did. She’s asking him why he did it, why he ruined everything they had, because now they can never go back to how they were. It's also quite a girl-power anthem which is why Blackpink are on the song too, Lisa and Jennie doing Kendrick’s raps, and Chae, Jisoo and y/n splitting up Taylor’s bits between themselves.

7. Broken - y/n & Jennie = Moving Along - 5 Seconds of Summer

This is the point where y/n’s trying to move on, but keeps looking back at Jimin, wondering how he’s doing and feeling now, whether or not he’s still broken too. It’s quite a chill and laidback song, and I think Jennie and y/n would sound really nice on this song together.

8. Dreaming - y/n & Blackpink = Love Me Like You - Little Mix

I always listen to this song when I’m in my feels because you can relate to it, but it also puts you in a good mood because it’s just like cute and upbeat. The girls would do this song really well and it reflects that relapse that everyone has when you’re trying get over someone, when you feel like no one else is as good for you as that person is.

9. Hero - y/n (Mariah Carey cover)

This is the main turning point in the album, where y/n realises that she can’t mope anymore, and she has to become her own hero because no else is going to do it. This song is so emotional and beautiful, and y/n would pour her heart out into it, more than doing it justice.

10. Did Me Wrong - y/n ft. Blackpink = I Will Survive - Gloria Gaynor

Here’s another girl-power anthem, y/n looking back and realising that she shouldn’t have been sad over him because he’s the idiot that did her wrong and she’s better off without him. It’s got the retro feel to it and I just think it’d sound really cute but also badass with all the girls on it.

11. Save - y/n & Lisa = Goodbyes - Post Malone & Young Thug

This song is a bit more mellow and laidback, showing y/n’s rationality when it comes to how she feels about Jimin. She’s accepted that their relationship couldn’t have worked because they both had personal shit that they needed to work through and fix before they even got together. y/n would have Post Malone’s bit and Lisa would have Young Thug’s bit to liven the song up a little bit.

12. Kill This Love - y/n & Blackpink (Remix)

Need I even say anything? Kill This Love perfectly sums up y/n and Jimin’s relationship and how it cannot continue whilst they are who they are now. y/n did Jennie and Lisa’s back and forth rap during the tour so she’d do that bit along with the outro section, as well as having a completely revamped backing track.

13. Burned Bridges - y/n & Jisoo = Cry Me A River - Justin Timberlake

This song came to y/n after seeing Jimin cry at the end of their first court visit, and it’s almost as if to say it’s too little too late. Jisoo and y/n would harmonise together to give the song a more complex and layered sound, and it’d be really pretty with all the extra sounds in the background.

14. Solo - y/n & Jennie (Remix)

This song also fits really well with y/n and Jimin’s relationship and basically says to Jimin that she is better off without him, and that he’d better start looking for a replacement because she’s going solo now. And of course Jennie had to be on this song too, so she’s still got her rap after the first verse, and they do the choruses together.

15. Ego - y/n & Chaeyoung = Obsessed - Maggie Lindemann

This song actually talks about how vain Jimin used to come across to y/n. She sings about the way he’d just sleep with all these random girls (because he could get whoever he wanted) and treat everybody coldly like he was above them (but implicitly, so she’s not exposing him), before admitting at the end that part of her loves his vanity, and it’s okay because she’s vain too. Chae’s voice would really suit this song because it’s really light and cute and so is Chae.

16. In My Blood - y/n (Shawn Mendes cover)

This song speaks a bit less about the relationship, and a bit more about y/n’s own personal battle with her mind over the years. First with her nightmares about her childhood friend, and now with the depressive state she’s been in since everything happened. It discusses how close she was to giving up, alluding to suicide, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it, because she knew she had to keep on fighting and stay strong. This song’s an empowering anthem and would fit really well with the theme of this album.

17. State of Mind - y/n ft. Chaeyoung & Jisoo = No Tears Left To Cry - Ariana Grande

State of Mind discusses how y/n’s moved past her sadness and now feels stronger and happier. It does mention that she still gets a bit sad, but that’s okay because her happiness outweighs that. Jisoo and Chae would do the harmonies throughout the song and all of their voices would layer over one another in that opening section in the music video.

18. Outro: Bad Bitch - y/n ft. Blackpink = Sorry Not Sorry - Demi Lovato

This would be the perfect closing to the album, basically a final ‘fuck you’ to Jimin, a way of y/n saying to him that he better be regretting what he did because look at her now, she’s back and she’s better than ever, so he can hold that L. Again, this is another empowering anthem, and all of the girls would equally share out this song.

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