#blue i wish you could see the wicked truth caught up in a rush its killing you screaming at the sun you flew into curled up in a grip when | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fusionnukacola · 2 years

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same anon who asked for the companions favorite songs, could you do what songs fit the companions this time? thanks again <333

Of course anon! I love asks like these. I'm super tired so I'll list the lyrics and songs, not explanations for now. Sorry :(

Cait: Cinderella Man by Eminem

"There's a storm comin' that the weatherman couldn't predict I start to bug, prick, you better flee, 'cause I get ticked It's a wrap, I was down, when I was down I was kicked I got up, I'm back to punch you to the ground, you're tricked"

Curie: Fourth Of July by Sufjan Stevens

"Sitting at the bed with the halo at your head Was it all a disguise, like Junior High Where everything was fiction, future, and prediction Now, where am I? My fading supply

Did you get enough love, my little dove Why do you cry?"

Paladin Danse: My Body Is A Cage by Arcade Fire

"I'm standing on a stage Of fear and self-doubt It's a hollow play But they'll clap anyway

My body is a cage That keeps me from dancing with the one I love But my mind holds the key

You're standing next to me My mind holds the key

I'm living in an age That calls darkness light Though my language is dead Still the shapes fill my head"

Deacon: Freaks by Surf Curse

"My head is filled with parasites Black holes cover up my eyes I dream of you almost every night Hopefully, I won't wake up this time"

Desdemona: The President Has A Sex Tape by K.Flay

"The president has a sex tape The oceans all dried up The devil got the dealer The dealer got the dollar Don't tell me I can live off love The president has a sex tape Your daughters aren't safe at night I got a feeling that my body is owned A feeling that my body ain't mine"

Hancock: The Other Side Of Paradise by Glass Animals

"Bye bye baby blue I wish you could see the wicked truth Caught up in a rush, it's killing you Screaming at the sun, you blow into Curled up in a grip when we were us Fingers in a fist like you might run I settle for a ghost I never knew Superparadise I held on to But I settle for a ghost"

MacCready: Ain't No Rest For The Wicked by Cage The Elephant

"Oh, there ain't no rest for the wicked Money don't grow on trees I got bills to pay I got mouths to feed There ain't nothing in this world for free I know I can't slow down I can't hold back Though you know I wish I could Oh, no there ain't no rest for the wicked Until we close our eyes for good"

Nick Valentine: Time Waits For No One by Freddie Mercury

"Time waits for no one We've got to build this world together Or we'll have no more future at all Because time It waits for nobody Nobody

You don't need me to tell you what's gone wrong You know what's going on And it seems to me we've not cared enough Or confided in each other at all It seems like we've all got our backs against the wall

Time waits for nobody Time waits for no one We've got to trust one another Or we'd have no more future at all"

Piper: Cigarette Daydreams by Cage The Elephant

"You can drive all night Lookin' for the answers in the pourin' rain You wanna find peace of mind Lookin' for the answer

Funny how it seems like yesterday As I recall, you were lookin' out of place Gathered up your things and slipped away No time at all, I followed you into the hall Cigarette daydream You were only seventeen Soft speak with a mean streak Nearly brought me to my knees"

Preston Garvey: ...History Has Its Eyes On You.... from Hamilton..

"I was younger than you are now When I was given my first command I led my men straight into a massacre I witnessed their deaths firsthand I made every mistake and felt the shame rise in me And even now I lie awake, knowing history has its eyes on me History has its eyes on me"

X6-88: Oh No! By MARINA

"I know exactly why I walk and talk like a machine I'm now becoming my own self-fulfilled prophecy Oh! Oh, no! Oh, no! Oh, no, oh!

One track mind, one track heart If I fail, I'll fall apart Maybe it is all a test 'Cause, I feel like I'm the worst So I always act like I'm the best"

Elder Maxson: Viva La Vida by Coldplay. I can't help myself

"It was a wicked and wild wind Blew down the doors to let me in Shattered windows and the sound of drums People couldn’t believe what I’d become Revolutionaries wait For my head on a silver plate Just a puppet on a lonely string Oh who would ever want to be king?"

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ruinikaidoexplodedbadly · 2 years

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what if you wanted to go to heaven but god said Bye byebaby blue i wish you could see the wicked truth caught up in a rush its killing you screamingat the sun you blow into curled up in a grip when we were u

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boowomp · 4 years

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WHEN THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE COMES ON SHUFFLE

#HOGUHHH #BYE BYE BABY BLUE I WISH YOU COULD SEE THE WICKED TRUTH CAUGHT UP IN A RUSH ITS KILLING YOU SCREAMING AT THE SUN YOU BLOW INTO CURLEDUP IN A

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chadillacboseman · 3 years

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“bye-bye, baby blue

I wish you could see the wicked truth,

caught up in a rush its killing you, screaming at the sun you blow into,

curled up in a grip when we were us, fingers in a fist like you might run,

settle for a ghost i never i never knew”-Other side of paradise by Glass animals + Master Chief? I live for angst 😩😩

Reminder that you can [Send me a song lyric/excerpt and a character/prompt] when my requests open!

This is kinda choppy and....disjointed. So I hope you still like it!

"Fingers in a fist like you might run, settle for a ghost I never, I never knew..."

"Deceleration thrusters damaged. Terminal velocity reached. Ejection advised. Ejection advised." The robotic voice of the pelican's onboard navigation unit droned in the cockpit.

John grabbed hold of the yoke and pulled, hard, trying to halt the vehicle's rapid nosedive toward the planet's surface. The lever wouldn't budge.

"John- what's wrong?" you cocked your head and raised an eyebrow. He loved that sight- if he could burn it into his memory, he'd do it in an instant.

"Just watching you," he replied simply. It wasn't a lie.

Your face split into a wide grin and you laughed, "Watching me- why?"

John tapped his armored fingers on his thigh plate and shrugged, "Making sure you're real."

"Impact imminent. Ejection advised."

John balled his fist and punched the speaker, sending his armored hand through the metal lattice until the voice faltered and died. He pushed past the smoke and sparks toward the cargo hold. The planet's surface was approaching rapidly, and the red-orange of atmospheric heat was starting to appear around the Pelican.

John opened the cargo hold and the rush of wind nearly knocked him back against the wall.

The Mjolnir could withstand impacts, but this-

"What were you thinking?" you weren't yelling. Not yet. There was a trembling in your voice as you spoke.

"I'm a Spartan, it's what we-"

"Don't you dare give me that," you snapped and John, despite himself, recoiled slightly at the sound of it, "You don't have to throw yourself into suicide missions- there are hundreds of Spartans!"

"They're not the same. Not like me," he was right, you knew that. But it didn't matter.

"Yeah? And did it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe I need you, too?"

John braced himself against the metal hull and engaged his armor lock as red emergency lights flashed to life in the cargo hold.

The ship impacted in the ocean, crashing against the frigid water like a bullet into concrete. John felt the Mjolnir freeze up as it absorbed the shock and sensors on his HUD went haywire.

Ice cold water lapped at his armor as he tried desperately to release the lock, his arms flexing against the padding, trapped inside a 1,000-pound prison.

"I'm sorry, Chief," Commander Keyes cleared his throat awkwardly, "Forseti was hit hard by the Covenant. We're bringing in refugees now, but it doesn't look good."

John felt his heart sink as he scanned the digital display in front of him- thousands...no, hundreds of thousands of names scrolled by him, reflected in his visor.

Forseti was your home planet.

---

John touched his chin to the reset switch and the suit's display went dark. Outside, the ocean rushed past, impossibly dark and frigid.

If the suit didn't power back on...

He shook the idea from his head and listened as the Mjolnir whined and thrummed back to life. His HUD powered on and launched directly into warning lights and alarms.

PRESSURE ALERT. PRESSURE ALERT.

The words flashed in the lower corner of his visor as John regained control of the armor. He engaged his thrusters and tried to orient himself as the HUD continued to alert him.

"Ever seen the Chief like this before?" one of the marines whispered behind his hand, eyes darting between the hulking suit and the granite display in front of it.

"No," the other shook his head and chanced a glance at the Spartan, "What's he doing?"

John ran his gloved hand down the granite memorial, fingers brushing into each groove that formed the names of the colonists killed on Forseti. There was a tightness in his chest as he came to your name, hand pausing to brush over the stone gently.

"There are hundreds of other Spartans!"

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe I need you, too?"

John's eyes wandered to the MIA section- seven Spartan names graced the granite. Of course, Spartans never died, not to the UNSC.

Seven Spartans had gone down with Forseti.

He should have been one of them.

John burst through to the surface and turned his head wildly, searching his surroundings. Nothing but miles of inky black ocean surrounded him, lapping at the metal of his armor as the wind formed stiff waves.

The Pelican would have had an emergency transponder. It would ping any UNSC forces that happened to go trawling for survivors near the planet.

John resigned himself to floating atop the frigid water, conserving energy until EVAC arrived. His mind wandered back to you- to the way you had cradled his head in your hands and hummed softly when the nightmares woke him. The way you planted soft kisses on his visor that made his chest swell.

John stared up into the gray sky as his suit cycled to save power and the HUD dimmed.

"You know something, John?" you looked up at him as he slipped his helmet onto his head.

"Hm?" he grunted in response and you chuckled, rising to stand in front of him with your hands on his chestplate.

"You make it hard to love you sometimes."

John cocked his head and shouldered his rifle, "Do I?"

"Yeah. But I still love you," you grinned and stood on your tiptoes to kiss his visor.

Thunder rolled in with dark clouds and shortly after, rain began to patter down onto the water's surface.

John closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the drops as they splashed off of his armor.

"I love you, too."

#gif is mine #master chief x reader #john 117 x reader #sfw #sorry this is like really choppy :(

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navegandoaciegas · 4 years

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Sunday Sinday

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader [Priest AU]

Warnings: priest!Bucky, explicit language, smut, very desecrating and blasphemous thoughts and actions, masturbation, corruption kink, sex in a public place, hair pulling. Both parties are consenting adults.

Summary: Father James preaches at Mass, and you think there’s no better time to sin than Sundays.

A/N: Yesterday (9/9) was my 21st birthday and I’m posting filth to celebrate it. @whateveriwant and I share one horny braincell and we had the same idea, so here it is bb.

Wide shoulders straining his black cassock, long chestnut hair pulled back, errant strands framing his chiselled face, thick rimmed glasses perched on top of his nose, Father James should be the depiction of all that’s holy, image and likeness of God himself, and instead he’s temptation in the flesh, and all you can think about as you do the sign of the cross and sit in the back pew is how much you want to do wrong with him.

“I confess to Almighty God and to you, my brothers and sisters, that I have sinned through my own fault in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done and what I have failed to do.”

His soft voice fills the room, subtle blush on his cheeks, the memory of all your shared sins in the fleeting looks he sends your way. His impure fantasies of you on your knees, your pretty lips around his cock, you taking his virginity of the altar, fucking under the cross, in the confessional, the filthy whispers in your ears, words he never imagined would come out of his mouth, the taste of you lingering on his tongue. He never stood a chance against temptation, not if you’re the one luring him straight to Hell.

You tune out of his sermon, merely standing, sitting, and kneeling as you see the others do: there’s the column he stood against as you sucked him off, the bench he bent you over and spanked you for the first time, the backdoor where the cleaning lady almost caught you.

“We listen to a reading from the New Testament.” he announces, clears his throat, adjusts his glasses, and opens the Holy Bible, fingers scanning over the verses he knows by heart.

There’s guilt in preaching what he doesn’t practice, but there’s also that exhilarating feeling of omnipotence that comes with being in love, that rush of adrenaline of loving in secret and doing the impossible to not get caught whilst wishing you would be.

The devoted churchgoers sitting in the front rows are too absorbed to notice you, hanging onto every word he recites, and the rest of the benches are empty, the saints and cherubs on the walls and Jesus on the cross your only witnesses as you quickly slip out of your panties and spread your legs, waiting for him to notice you, a teasing smile finding its way on your lips.

“If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we-”

He looks up from the pages, and his eyes meet you, or more likely what’s between your legs. He stutters, John or Matthew’s verses escaping his mind, “If we- we, uh, confess, we confess, yes, our sins- uh.”

Silence. Awkward, tense silence.

The white collar around his neck is suddenly too stiff and suffocating. Father James is like a deer caught in the headlights, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as his eyes flit around the room. The blush on his cheeks betrays his sinful thoughts, and he can only hope, as he gapes in front of his audience, that they won’t notice the tent in his cassock, the sweat on his forehead, his heaving chest and the light fog forming in his glasses.

Whispers arise, ‘is Father James alright?’, the good, righteous churchgoers ask among themselves, concerned about their beloved priest.

“As I was saying.” he clears his throat after a strangled apology, his fingertips finding the verse he was reading again, “If we say we have not sinned-”

His voice is a low buzz as he resumes his sermon, tension clear in his taut muscles and dry mouth; memories of all the times he’s taken you on these wooden benches invade your minds. All the times you’ve choked him with the cross around his neck, all those he’s spent on his knees, worshipping you like a goddess.

His pure soul you’ve tarnished with yours, the filthy words that sound so right on his holy mouth, his heady taste on your tongue when you swallow him whole, your wish to ruin him.

Your walls throb, arousal pooling at your entrance and rubbing on the fabric of your skirt as you grind your core on the bench, desperate for some sort of release.

He raises the chalice. “...It will be shed for you and for all so that sins may be forgiven. Do this in memory of me.”

You were never one for good decisions, especially not when your brain is as fogged as his glasses. And there’s no better day to sin than Sunday, afterall.

You slip a finger inside your glistening folds, looking at him through lidded eyes, wishing he would be fucking you against the altar instead. Father James’ eyes go wide as saucers when he catches sight of you playing with your dripping pussy under your skirt, and he chokes on his wine, sputtering and coughing.

You close your legs and bite your lips when someone walks up to him and pats his back to help him through his fit. He glares at you, and you stifle a laugh, the scene too comical to keep quiet.

“Forgive me.” he stutters to the small crowd, worry evident in their eyes, “It went down the wrong way.” he tries to ease the tension , “We can begin the communion rite now, if I don’t choke before.” and earns himself a collective chuckle.

The walk from the back to the front of the church seems endless. Thighs rubbing together and against your folds, a light breeze from an open door blows up your skirt just slightly, but enough that if someone were to pay attention, they’d see you’re not wearing any panties.

You’re the last of the line, and by the time you get to him, the rest of the people are kneeling, their head bowed, oblivious to the tension between their good priest and the new girl in town.

“The Body of Christ.”

It’s a whisper, soft and intimate, meant for you and only you, the blue of his eyes swallowed by darkness when you part you lips wide open and stick your tongue out, a sight he’s seen countless times before, when you’re on your knees begging him to fuck your mouth. Air stills when your tongue brushes against his trembling fingertips, a shiver running down his spine, a groan almost escaping him because of what that damn tongue is capable of. Eyes locked together as you slowly chew, his gaze following the lump of your throat as you swallow.

“Amen.”

It’s lust, it’s sin, it’s wrong but it sure feels right.

He watches your hips sway as you walk back to your seat, knowing your pussy is bare and wet for him beneath your skirt, and he can’t wait for mass to be over soon.

Incense is thick in the air, and a shiver runs down your spine when you feel his presence. A hand pulls your shirt and shoves you behind one of the columns to the sides where you usually wait for your sweet boy after mass. The marble is cold against your back, his hold like a vice on your flesh, and it stirs up something inside you. He’s never touched you like this, not your shy, doe eyed James, with his tentative kisses and trembling hands.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he whispers harshly, lips hovering over yours.

A gasp, you feign surprise. “Since when do you use that language? You kiss the cross with those lips?”

“You're a bad influence.” he chuckles, “Anyone could have seen.”

“But no one did.” you retort “And that’s the fun part, baby boy.”

His fingers will leave bruises behind, you muse, as you take in the fire in his eyes and his body towering over yours. Your recklessness, your attitude, your pretty face, his lack of restraint, the way he can never resist you, his body that acts on its own, the animal instinct that snaps inside him when his hips thrust against yours and his hard cock presses on your stomach.

“You wanted to get caught, didn’t you?”

Your tongue finds its way from his neck to the shell of his ears, leaving goosebumps behind, “Can you imagine the scandal?”

“You’re such a brat.” is his strangled response as his hips roll against you, pinning you to the wall. His breathing is ragged, his jaw clenched.

“I am a brat Father, do you think you can forgive me for that?” you purr, a hand sneaking between you and palming his aching cock through his cassock.

“I don’t know, angel.” he mumbles in your hair, a thick thigh coming between yours. “You need to repent, and then atone.”

“How can I do that, Father? I want it so, so bad.”

Your skin is scorching hot, your head dizzy as his smell clings to you and intoxicates you.

In a blur you find yourself spun around, the marble digging painfully in your cheeks, his hand groping your ass and kneading the flesh to the point that it hurts. A whimper escapes your mouth when he slowly grazes your things up to your aching core, and he cups your pussy with a possessive hold.

“You’re so wet, all for me?”

It’s a soft whisper, a stupid question maybe.

“Only for you.”

He peppers your neck with small kisses, nipping your delicate skin. Your walls flutter around nothing, you’re desperate to feel him inside you, his thick cock filling you like no else’s can.

Father James is not a patient man.

His fingers swirl around your swollen clit, and you’re pretty sure there’s slick running down your thighs. The pressure in your cunt is almost painful as you wait for him to lift his cassock and free himself.

“Tell me you’re mine.”

It’s a low vibration grunted in your ear as he strokes his length and lines himself with your entrance, his tip smearing your arousal around.

“I’m yours.”

He slams his cock inside you, and you mewl when he fully sheathes himself. He sets a low pace, taking his time to slide in and out of your, revelling in the way your walls grip him so tight.

“More.”

You’re not begging, you swear. You’re merely requesting. A command, really.

“You must say your penance first, sweetheart.” he taunts you, his wicked self coming out the more time he spends between your legs, and you find out you’re not so different after all. “An Act of Contrition, princess.”

You feel your pussy clench down on his cock, the coil getting tighter with each gentle stroke. Your mind is swirling, and you desperately cling onto the last rationality you’ve got left to remember your prayer.

“My God.” you snarl when his hand pulls your hair, and you arch your back, this new position allowing his tip to reach the sweet spot inside you, “My God, I’m sorry for my- my sins” you moan, “with all my heart.”

He fastens his pace, the depravity of this all edging him closer to his release with each sweet sound you make. “Are you really?”

“Yes, yes, oh my God. I’m sorry, in choosing to do wrong and failing to do good,” you pant, tears streaming down your face, your breaths ragged, “I have sinned against you, whom I should-.” You’re sobbing, your hands clutching his shoulders for dear life, the sound of his balls slapping against your pussy so lewd as it resonates in the empty walls.

“Just like that, don’t stop, please.” you mewl, feeling the knot in your core about to unravel, your vision getting spotty around the edges.

You pull on his collar and tug him down, biting his lips, your tongue tasting his, his plush lips against yours, his hand around your neck. A harsh snap of his hips, one last look at the crying angel above you, and you come on his cock, your pussy so tight around him that he follows shortly after, his cock swelling inside you and filling you to the brim with his cum. Your limbs jerk uncontrollably, your eyes roll to the back of your head.

His hot breath fans over your neck, strong arms holding you flush against his chest. A soft kiss on your forehead, a gentle smile on his lips, your heartbeat frantic, and not because of the orgasm that just wrecked you.

“Am I forgiven, Father?”

The rumble in his chest as he snickers warms your heart more than it should.

“You didn’t finish your prayers, princess. Looks like we’re gonna have to do this all over again.”

God, you love Sundays.

If you’re interested in more Father James, check this out. This one shot is part of Innocent! priest Bucky x Reader. I hope you all enjoyed it, and if you did, please leave some feedback, I love reading your comments.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #priest!bucky #bucky barnes smut #marvel smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic

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serirei · 3 years

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BYE BYE BABY BLUE I WISH YOU COULD SEE THE WICKED TRUTH CAUGHT UP IN A RUSH ITS KILLING YOU DREAMING BY THE SUN YOU FLEW INTO

#im supposed to be studying <3 but htbahb time.#it.txt #glass animals

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soapfilledpoptart · 3 years

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Hey hey hey

yall know glass animals right

and you guys know their song

and do u guys know the fanfics 'Change fate by being aggresivly kind', "Tommy's unbeatable method of avoiding sudden death" and "Take this compass, follow it home"?

so basically, do you guys know that lyric in the song where its like, "Bye-bye baby blue, i wish you could see the wicked truth"

well

i havent actually finished change fate, but i imagined this while litsening to the song

spoiler warnings for the 3 fics btw

"Bye bye baby blue" is monster Wilbur running off, cus hes a blue fish (change fate)

"I wish you could see the wicked truth" is Tommy, trying desperatly to keep his limbo together (tumoasd)

"Caught up in a rush its killing you" is Tommy stealing tech's book, showing it to wilbur, then realizing wilbur GAVE techno that book (take this compass)

"Screaming at the sun" is Tommy, screaming in the burning locked room, or Tommy screaming and crying at seeing wilbur being shot (tumoasd)

"Curled up in a grip when we were us, fingers in a grip like you might run" is Wilbur running again (change fate)

"Settle for a ghost I never knew" Idk one for this, maybe tommy the absolute ending to tumoasd? like the start ending yknow

"Super-paradise I held onto" Tommy trying to keep the limbo togethere again

#haha pain #tumoasd #sbi angst #lyric fanfic relations #yeah fukk u

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nomaishuttle · 1 year

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guys indont think u get it when i was young and stupid my love left to be a rock and roll star he told me please dont worry wise little smile that spoke so safely he booked a one way ticket out west thats where they make it six kids stuck in a bedsit to sunswept pool side riches. he met a girl who wore versace pink feather coat and jumbo jewelry gonna be a hoop phenomenon hes gonna be hakeem olajuwan hes got a gold camaro he said over the pay pjone i try to keep my cool but my life turns in slow motion BYE BYE BABY BLUE I WISH YOU COULD SEE THE WICKED TRUTH CAUGHT UP IN A RUSH ITS KILLING YOU SCREAMING AT THE SUN YOU FLEW INTO CURLED UP IN A GRIP WHEN WE WERE US FINGERS IN A FIST LIKE YOU MIGHT RUN SETTLE FOR A GHOST I NEVER KNEW SUPER APRADISE I HELD ONTO BUT I SETTLE FOR A GHOST!!! keep slaying thats all.

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caligulalotus · 3 years

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THE COMMISSIONER: A playlist for the many Parker MacMillans

Pre-History

Mama-My Chemical Romance

“She said, "You ain't no son of mine!"/For what you've done they're/Gonna find a place for you/And just you mind your manners when you go/And when you go don't return to me my love”

Honey I’m Home-Ghost and Pals

“So with advice of the dead/And a halo over my head/At last, "HONEY, I'M HOME"/Three voices come all alone”

The Moon Will Sing-The Crane Wives

“Name your courage now/We could have had anything, anything else/Instead you hoarded all that's left of me/Swallowing your doubt/Like swords to the pit of my belly/I want to feel the fire that you kept from me”

Bad Bad Things-AJJ

“If I don’t go to hell when I die, I might go to heaven/If I don’t go to hell when I die, I might go to heaven/If I don’t go to hell when I die, I might go heaven/If I don’t go to hell when I die, I might go to heaven/Might go heaven, but probably not”

Our Word-Jessie Shelton, 36 Questions

“Somebody was paid to make it go away/Everyone was paid to make the problems go away/Doesn't matter who gets screwed, or who is blamed/Or what you need to do to clear your name/An inconvenient truth can be easily erased”

The Discipline Era

The Other Side of Paradise-Glass Animals

“Bye bye baby blue/I wish you could see the wicked truth/Caught up in a rush, it's killing you/Screaming at the sun, you blow into”

Rät-Penelope Scott

“And the worst part is/I loved you/I loved you/I loved you it's true/And sometimes I feel like/I still fucking do/I lived here/I loved here/I thought it was true/I'm so embarrassed/I feel abused”

The Mind Electric-Miracle Musical

“Father your honor, may I explain?/My brain has claimed its glory over me/I've a good heart albeit insane/Condemn him to the infirmary”

Sweet Hibiscus Tea-Penelope Scott

“Here's the thing, I can't do anything right/Try as I absolutely, totally might/The bones are melting, the skeleton is ash/The clavicle detaches and falls with a deafening crash/And I'm not your protagonist/I'm not even my own/I don't know anything/I don't even know what I don't know”

The Coffee Cup

Line Without a Hook-Ricky Montgomery

“I broke all my bones that day I found you/Crying at the lake/Was it something I said to make you feel like you're a burden?/Oh, and if I could take it all back/I swear that I would pull you from the tide”

Townie-Mitski

“I'm holding my breath with a baseball bat/Though I don't know what I'm waiting for/I am not gonna be what my daddy wants me to be”

Parker MacMillan IIII-The Garages

“Please continue to participate/And I hope that you'll remember me/As I go out in a blaze of glory”

The Expansion Era

Freaks-Surf Curse

“I dream of you almost every night/Hopefully I won't wake up this time”

Christmas Kids-Roar

“The Christmas kids were nothing but a gift/And love is a tower where all of us can live/You'll change your name or change your mind/And leave this fucked up place behind/But I'll know, I'll know”

It’s Tough To Be A God-Annapantsu, Elise Lovelock

“It's tough to be a god/Tread where mortals have not trod/Be deified when really you're a sham”

A Mask Of My Own Face-Lemon Demon

“I look into my eyeholes and what do I see?/A handsome motherfucker motherfucking looking back at me/A mask of my own face/I'd wear that”

Last Words of a Shooting Star-Mitski

“And did you know the liberty bell is a replica/Silently housed in its original walls/And while its dreams played music in the night/Quietly/It was told to believe/I always wanted to die clean and pretty/But I'd be too busy on working days”

Body Terror Song-AJJ

“I'm very sorry that you have to have a body/One that will hurt you, and be the subject of so much of your fear/It will betray you, be used against you, then it'll fail on you my dear/But before that, you'll be a doormat, for every vicious narcissist in the world/Oh how they'll screw you, all up and over, then feed you silence for dessert”

Clean Slated Slate-The Altogether

“Do you need someone, do you need a new me?/'Cause I've got two or three/And they'll only be here until/My clean slated state”

Better Than Me-The Brobecks

“Look what you've done, now I'm a mess/Today I even thought I'd wear a dress/It's beautiful, so smart and no good for me/At all/Yeah/Everyone is better than me, I think/Throw your hands up if you agree with me/Now everyone is better than me, I think”

Fire-Kimya Dawson

“It seemed like everyone I knew was dying/I looked in the mirror and I was on fire/Somebody yelled out "Hey, stop drop and roll"/I said "That might save my skin, but it won't save my soul"”

OK-8 Graves

“Nobody wanted to find me/A way back to guide me/Kept feeling like I wasn't right/Maybe I'm encapsulating/Somebody else saving/You really need to just sit tight/So cold to live without a soul/But I do my best to make things right/Alone without a heart or home/No one else can see it's fight or flight”

#blaseball #parker macmillan iiiii #parker macmillan iii #parker macmillan iiii #now you can all see my horrible music taste

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morabah · 3 years

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BYE BYE BABY BLUE I WISH YOU COULD SEE THE WICKED TRUTH CAUGHT UP IN A RUSH ITS KILLING YOU SCREAMING AT THE SUN YOU BLOW INTO

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boowomp · 5 years

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BYE BYE 👋 BABY BLUE 👶💙 I WISH U COULD SEE 👀 THE WICKED TRUTH, CAUGHT UP IN A RUSH 😰 ITS KILLING U ☠️ SCREAMING AT THE SUN 🗣️☀️ YOU BLOW INTO 🌬️ CURLED UP IN A GRIP WHEN WE WERE US 👫 FINGERS IN A FIST LIKE U MIGHT RUN ✊🏃 I SETTLED FOR A GHOST I NEVER KNEW 👻😔 SUPERPARADISE I HELD ONTO 🏝️ BUT I SETTLED FOR A GHOST 😭

#glass animals #i feel like this has been done.

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stupidsexyfandom · 4 years

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Atonement

@helsa-summer-event

Rated M: Mature themes, SFW // Angst

CONTENT WARNING: Major Character Death, Suicide

Twenty-five years later, a body washes up in Arendelle.

Written for Prompt #4 of Helsa Summer: Gorgeously tan.

The morning after the storm dawned cool and gray. Queen Elsa rose even earlier than usual after a night plagued by insomnia. She stood on her balcony, watching as the city began to stir. The sea lay still as glass, slate blue and impenetrable. She wished she could stand staring at it forever. Her mind had been greatly troubled, and today, she did not feel like speaking to anyone.

Unfortunately, she reminded herself, being queen left no room for fits of pique. She would have to go downstairs to tend to her duties eventually, as she had every day for the past twenty-five years. Casting a last longing look at the gray sea, she steeled herself to face the world.

Breakfast with Anna, Kristoff, and the children could always lift her spirits, even on such a dour day as this. Elsa supposed she should no longer think of them as children en masse. The oldest, Isolde, would be twenty-one in the spring. Watching her niece, Elsa could hardly believe she had become queen at that age. She seemed so young. Surely she herself had not been such a child when she had taken the throne? But perhaps she had been so young once. In any case, it was her prerogative as a doting aunt to remember all her nieces and nephews as babes in arms no matter how old they got.

After breakfast, she reviewed her itinerary for the day. The bulk of her time was occupied by a foray into the city to assess storm damage. The high winds and heavy rains of the previous night had wrought havoc on structures private and public alike. Beyond the usual cleanup, Elsa had to decide where to allocate funds for repairs and assistance.

She was accompanied on her inspection tour by the castle’s steward, Kai. He had worked in the castle since her father had been crowned. Although his hair was now white, he seemed to grow shrewder with each passing year. Elsa valued his opinion more than those of most of the diplomats and aristocrats on her advisory council.

Together they walked through the streets of the city. Elsa was pleasantly surprised. All told, Arendelle had weathered the storm much better than she had feared. She knew her people were strong, but the wind and rain had been particularly fierce. When the pair reached a damaged building, Kai would make note of it in his little book, and Elsa would do her best to help. Where shingles had blown off the baker’s roof, she created a patch of ice to keep the rain out. Where the upper story of a tenement sagged, she created an icy scaffolding to support it until repairs could be made. All throughout the city, she did what she could. It was times like these when she was thankful for her powers, and she could tell that her people were, too. Every snowflake was an atonement for what had happened so many years ago.

There was a small crowd gathering at the top of the cliffs overlooking the sea. They appeared to be looking at something caught on the rocks below. Elsa thought the wind must have blown something over something over the edge in the night, perhaps a signboard or even a cart. Perhaps she would be able to get it back for them with her powers. She and Kai joined the townsfolk in peering over the edge. At first, Elsa could see nothing. Then she caught sight of a flash of red and felt suddenly sick. There, where the waves were lapping at the rocks, lay a body.

She immediately conjured a staircase to the foot of the cliff, careful to give the treads an anti-slip texture. Kai was the first down it, moving nimbly despite his advanced age. Elsa followed. When they reached the bottom, they had to pick their steps carefully along the slippery rock. The body lay face down. Its hair had been the red that caught her eye from the clifftop. Kai knelt to check its pulse, although they both knew it was a vain gesture. Sighing, Elsa created a broad platform of ice beneath the three of them. She raised it into a pillar until they were even with the head of the cliff. Two fishermen rushed forward to carry the body onto solid ground.

They lay the dead man face up on a patch of grass. For the first time, Elsa could see his face. A chill of recognition ran through her, and she wrapped her arms around herself instinctively. When she looked down, she was shocked to see spirals of frost covering her cloak. She had not lost control of her powers like that in decades.

“Is something wrong?” She could feel Kai’s keen eyes upon her. With anyone else, she might have been able to pass it off as the shock of seeing a dead body so close. But Kai had known her for too long. He had seen the recognition in her eyes.

“I know this man,” she said haltingly.

“Oh?” Elsa had to think fast. She couldn’t let anyone know what she knew, not even Kai.

“I saw him yesterday. He told me the last time he was in Arendelle was for my coronation, and he wanted to pay his respects after twenty-five years.” This was not exactly a lie, although it was far from the whole truth.

“Did he tell you his name?”

“I believe he said it was Anderson. Hans Anderson.”

She had seen him in the town square. All around, the city of Arendelle was bustling with preparations for the oncoming storm. He was standing at a produce stall, examining the varieties of fruit. She might not have recognized him if not for his eyes. He wore the garb of a simple sailor, and his face was tanned and weather-beaten. But she would know those eyes anywhere.

She paused for a moment, uncertain of whether to approach him. Part of her wanted to ask why he had come here, or how he dared to show his face here at all. The other part of her wanted to turn away and forget she had even seen him. She had learned long ago the value of letting sleeping dogs lie. But soon enough the choice was made for her. He had seen her.

“You haven’t changed,” he said by way of greeting, and Elsa hated that he was right. Age had taken its toll on her, but its price had been lighter for her than for most. Her hair had always been white, and her time indoors had kept her skin smooth. He could not see the achy joints and stiff muscles that lay beneath the surface. Nor could he see how she had grown, no longer fearful and isolated. She had learned to be strong for her people, to make difficult decisions and navigate stormy seas.

“You have,” she told him, although she was not sure that it was true. He dressed coarsely and had clearly spent the last twenty years working under the sun, his red hair streaked with gray. He still carried with him a certain air of refinement, but his face held an open simplicity she had not seen before. Still, she was wary. He was an expert pretender, and it was likely the same frozen heart lay beneath this roughhewn exterior.

“I need to speak with you.”

“Then speak.” Her tone was chilly.

“Not here. Somewhere private.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“You only have to listen.” Elsa wanted to dismiss him out of hand, to tell him that she didn’t have to do anything. But there was something in his eyes that was both dangerous and desperate. She found herself assenting. He tried to give her his name and current ship, but she brushed them away. They would meet on her terms.

Sitting at her dressing table that evening, Elsa mulled over her choice. She was not going to allow herself to regret it. So much of her life had been stolen away by fear and regret. As she had grown older, she had learned not to let them dominate her thoughts and actions. But that evening, those emotions threw her back to the day she became queen. What’s done is done, she thought. And although she could not eliminate her regret, she could keep moving forward.

Lost in thought, she removed the pins from her updo and began brushing her hair. As she braided it for sleep, she realized the actions were pointless. She would be going out again anyway. But seeing the braid over her left shoulder gave her an idea. Standing, she replicated the first ice dress she had ever made. She had not worn one like it in many years, finding it too daring to be taken seriously at court. Now, she remembered the power she had felt when she first created it. Perfect, she thought. It was the same dress she had worn that day on the fjord. She wanted him to remember what he had done.

The wind whistled as she stole down to the side entrance. Elsa could see the backs of the leaves, but no rain yet fell. When she opened the garden door, she was surprised to find him already waiting.

“Did the guards see you?” The last thing Elsa needed was for anyone to know about their secret assignation.

“I climbed over the wall,” he said, gesturing behind him. Elsa could barely make out a patch of ivy growing over the stonework, and she made a mental note to have it cut back later. But tonight, it had been her ally.

She led him to the chapel. None of the lamps were lit, so the only illumination came from the moonlight streaming in through the windows. She set the lantern she carried on the dais. The flame cast weird shadows across the flagstones.

She whirled to face him and said, “Why did you come here?”

“You don’t know? I came to beg for your forgiveness.” A cold wind blew through the chapel, extinguishing the lantern. Elsa swore under her breath, any cutting response forgotten. She knelt to fumble with the wick, realizing she didn’t have any matches. That was the biggest problem with this ice dress: no pockets.

He was beside her in an instant, proffering a matchbook from his waistcoat pocket. As she reached out to take it, their hands brushed, and Elsa realized neither of them wore gloves. She wondered if it had been as long for him as it had for her. She struggled to light a match, finding the striking pad slick with ice. When a flame erupted at last, it fizzled just as quickly in her cold hands.

“Here, let me,” he said, gently taking back the book of matches. She watched silently as his tanned, agile hands lit the wick. They sat side by side on the edge of the dais, staring into the shadowy corners of the chapel.

Suddenly he said, “I hear the princess is married.”

“Yes,” said Elsa, “Happily married for more than twenty years now.”

“To the iceman?”

“Yes, to the iceman, Kristoff. They have several lovely children.” Elsa was stalling, not eager to return to the subject that had brought them there.

“Children? Will you tell me about them?” It occurred to Elsa that Anna probably would not want her to. Anna probably would be upset that she was speaking to him at all. She was ready to ask him what business the children were of his when he held up a hand.

“Please. Let me hear about the children that could have, in another life, been mine.” His words stung Elsa, especially because she often thought the same thing. She loved her nieces and nephews as though they were her sons and daughters. But sometimes, she imagined an alternate path, where she had loved and married and had children of her own. So she told him. She started with Isolde, who would be queen one day, and worked her way down. He listened with rapt attention, but his eyes held a sadness she knew too well.

When she had finished (with Wilhelm, age nine, avid collector of frogs and turtles), he asked, “And you? You have never married?”

“No. I discovered long ago that it was better to keep power for myself than to trust too easily and share it with anyone whose motives were uncertain. You taught me that. I suppose I never found anyone whom I could trust.” He barked a dry laugh and leaned back on his arms. Elsa studied his face among the harsh lamplight shadows, and she could see his expression soften.

“It is a shame, your Majesty, all that we have missed in life.” She wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that she had missed nothing. But instead she just sighed. They sat in silence for a while.

“You’ve never married either?” asked Elsa. She felt suddenly ridiculous. Here she was, making polite conversation with the man who had once tried to kill her. She wasn’t even sure what to call him. ‘Prince Hans’ seemed out of the question, for she was fairly sure he had been stripped of his title. Just ‘Hans’ seemed too familiar, implying a closer relationship. What else was left? The false name he had given her? But ‘Mr. Anderson’ seemed stiffly formal, like she was addressing a stranger. And whatever their relationship was, they were certainly not strangers. His voice interrupted her reverie.

“No. I’ve been at sea for many years, you know. No time for a wife.” Something in his tone told Elsa there was more to it.

“Many sailors marry.”

“Perhaps I was always too obsessed with what happened in Arendelle. I dreamed of it every night. Even in my waking hours, I could never be free of it. Each wave crashing against the hull seemed to call me to repent. Eventually, I could bear it no longer. I thought it might drive me mad. Perhaps there was a kind of madness in my coming here. But I knew that I could not rest until I saw you again. I could not go on without asking for your forgiveness.”

Elsa stood slowly, feeling stiff from sitting so low to the ground. She almost pitied him. Despite what she knew of him, he seemed genuinely repentant. Perhaps he had learned something in the past twenty-five years. That was what made this so hard.

“Do not ask for my forgiveness.”

“What?” He froze midway through standing up.

“Any wrongs you have committed against me pale in comparison to what you did to my sister. It is her forgiveness you must seek, not mine.”

“Then let me speak to her tomorrow. I won’t expect anything to come of it, so long as I have the opportunity.” His expression was tinged with eagerness verging on desperation. Elsa steeled herself. She had to protect her sister. She had been unable to do so twenty-five years ago when they had first met Prince Hans, and Anna had suffered for it. Now, Elsa finally had the chance to atone for that failure. She would not fail again.

“Princess Anna is happy now. She has a life and family of her own. The last thing she need is for you to dredge up the past.”

“But—”

“I sympathize. Do you think I don’t understand self-recrimination? She has finally managed to heal from what we’ve done to her. I won’t let you disrupt her life.”

Her words proved to be too much for him. He knelt before her, pleading desperately. She thought there was a touch of madness in his eyes.

“Please, I beg of you! If you will not let me see your sister, at least consider my plea for yourself. I don’t know how I can go on otherwise. I cannot live this haunted life.”

“I cannot help you. You must seek absolution elsewhere.” Elsa wished that things could be different. But she of all people did not have the right to grant forgiveness for what had happened at the coronation. Not when she herself had played such a large part in her sister’s suffering.

He threw himself at her feet like a child. She felt his hand on her leg, grasping at it like a lifeline. He buried his face in her skirts, and Elsa felt overwhelmed by his emotion. She noticed snowflakes drifting slowly downward and waved them away with her hand. Perhaps she was being selfish, letting her final act of atonement block his only chance at the same. But Anna’s happiness had to come first.

“Get up,” she said softly, pushing at his graying hair, “Hans. Get up.” He looked up at her, eyes moist but unwavering. Slowly he disentangled himself from her skirts.

“I can’t give you what was never mine to give. The most I can do is let you leave here in peace. I will not alert the Southern Isles, nor will I alert Arendelle’s guard. I have left you with your life. You must be content with that.” Her tone was kind, but she spoke with a sense of finality.

“A cursed life such as mine hardly qualifies. You have left me with nothing at all.” His eyes looked hollow, as if there were nothing behind them.

“Give us your best account of what happened last night, Captain,” said Kai. The body was laid out in the castle’s chapel. Because the dead man had no local family, Elsa had volunteered to take charge of the remains. Now a small group had formed there to try to figure out the cause of death. Elsa and Kai, her eternal shadow, stood on one side. The doctor and the bishop stood on the other. The captain of the St. Winifred, who had been found based on Elsa’s information, was the final member of their party. Elsa had worried that they might realize Hans’ true identity, but her secret seemed safe for the moment.

“The night watchman says Anderson returned around midnight, just about when the rain started. He didn’t go below decks right away, saying he wanted some fresh air. By the time of the one o’clock patrol, he was gone. The watchman say he thought Anderson went below deck, but the storm was getting intense by that point, so he wasn’t paying much attention.”

“Do you think he could have fallen overboard? Or could a wave have washed him away?” asked Kai. The captain considered for a moment.

“I would say either of those were possible, if not likely. Anderson was a competent sailor and very cautious. I doubt he slipped and fell. But in a storm like that one, anything may have happened.”

“Was he well liked among the crew?” Elsa could tell Kai was trying to be diplomatic.

“Yes, he got along with everybody. He was quiet and kept himself to himself. But he was always willing to pick up the slack, and that made him popular. I had offered him a promotion several times, but he always turned me down. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to harm him.”

Elsa was finding it difficult to keep her mind on the proceedings. She found herself staring at the corpse several times, fixated on how it compared to the Hans of her memory. Beneath its suntanned skin lay the pallor of death. Its eyes were closed, but she knew they must hold the same hollow look she had seen the night before. She longed to reach out and touch it. Would it be cold as ice? Would she even be able to tell? The bishop was speaking for the first time, and Elsa tried to give him her attention.

“What we must know is this: could he have done this to himself? We cannot move forward with the burial until we know whether he is worthy of consecrated ground.” The other three men looked distinctly uncomfortable. Elsa got the feeling this was a possibility they would all have gladly ignored.

The doctor spoke first: “All I can tell you is that he drowned. There were some abrasions from the rocks, but they were clearly postmortem. His body can give us no evidence aside from that.”

“I wouldn’t believe it for a moment,” said the captain with a bit of added bluster, “He just wasn’t the sort. Sure, he had his troubles, but so do we all. Doesn’t mean he’d do something so drastic.”

“Queen Elsa,” said Kai, “you spoke to him the most recently out of all of us. Can you shed any light on his state of mind?” Elsa had only a split second to decide what to say. She knew her evidence would be damning if she answered truthfully.

“It was only for a few minutes. He just told me how little I had changed since my coronation. He seemed in good spirits, but of course I didn’t know him.” She hoped her lie would be convincing. It was the least she could do for him.

The investigation was over. They had reached a consensus that it had been an accidental death. Elsa was glad to be finished with it. At least she had spared Hans the final indignity of an unconsecrated grave. Despite the bishop’s protestations, she had insisted that he be buried in the royal plot. She was not sure what lay beyond the grave, but she hoped his spirit would be able to find some peace.

Now, she walked along the beach, looking out over the slate-colored sea. She turned, hearing footsteps behind her. It was Kai.

“May I join you?”

“Of course.” They walked together in silence for a while.

“You went to a lot of trouble to arrange a burial for that man,” said Kai. He was dangling the bait in front of her. She wondered how much he knew.

“A queen’s duty is to take care of her people. Besides, I feel partially responsible for his death. He only came to Arendelle because of me.”

“Queen Elsa, listen to me,” Kai stopped walking and turned to face her, “this was not your fault. If it was not an accident, he made his own choice. I suspect he made his choice many years ago. You don’t need to hold yourself responsible.”

Elsa appreciated Kai’s kind words and common sense. She hoped that this time she would be able to follow his advice. After so many years, perhaps she did not need another reason to atone.

***

Author’s Note: This fic is brought to you by the letter C. C for Cadfael, an endless source of inspiration for me. C for Culturally Catholic, which bleeds through into my writing sometimes. C for Content warning, which is not something I usually need for my fics. Oh yeah, and C for Completely missing the spirit of the prompt, sorry guys.

I had to rewrite the entire middle portion because I thought Hans was coming across as too mentally well-compensated. Tomorrow I begin my apology tour. Thanks so much for reading! <3

#helsa #helsasummerevent #helsasummerevent2020 #frozen #hans #elsa #mentions of kristanna #suicide cw #fanfic

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alienjock · 4 years

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bye bye baby blue i wish you could see the wicked truth caught up in the rush its killing you screaming at the sun you blow into curled up in a grip when we were us fingers in a fist like you might run i settle for a ghost i never knew super paradise i held onto but i settle for a ghost

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4-25-am · 4 years

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nami’s most listened to songs of the month! ~january edition part two~

6) where’d you go? - quadeca

the song sings of comeback, overcoming odds, and rebirth. if hayloft is an anime villain, where’d you go? is like when that one character you thought died and then he shows up like i lived bitch!!!!! and I love that energy from quadeca. (planning to use this song for an edit of all the drivers that got fucked over by rb 😳)

“back again? every track running laps again. same old me with the same old genes. but. i’m never thinking bout the past again.” this song just gives me so much confidence because sure my past got me fucked up, i’m still the same me but a more evolved boss version of myself.

7) the other side of paradise - glass animals

surprise! its glass animals again! the vocals sound so sad and haunting and its so fitting for the story theyre telling. its a sad story of change and desperation. it feels so weak and tired like someone who lost everything, retelling a painful story over and over. and when the chorus hits, it feels red and orange. energy fueled by anger. anger at themself, anger at their ex. the bridge feels like standing at the top of a building and accepting your fate. the ground below you crumbling and soon swallowing you whole.

bye bye baby blue. i wish you could see the wicked truth. caught up in a rush it's killing you. screaming at the sun you blow into. curled up in a grip when we were us. fingers in a fist like you might run. i settle for a ghost. i never knew. superparadise i held on to. but i settle for a ghost : the lyrics of the chorus is the main character desperately clinging to their lover who left them empty promises and naive hope of return. they wish their lover would come back, would realise that they are no longer the person the mc loves. their old lover is dead. they know that they’re gone but they still cling to the hope that theyll return to what they originally were. but people change and sometimes they dont go back to who they were, hence settling for a ghost and the memories they once shared.

8) mr loverman - ricky montgomery

i enjoy really small things in songs that make it feel human like a well timed beat or the singer speaking before the song starts. for mr loverman, its the breath he takes in. you can hear the full gasp. the song starts so strong with “i’m headed straight for the floor.” its a declaration. its a statement. the song is so raw and human, filled with desperation.

its the kind of song that plays in a movie while the character is sat on the toilet floor and their entire world comes crashing down. the walls they tried so hard to put up turns out to be fragile and brittle. : “i’ve shattered now. i’m spilling out upon this linoleum ground. i’m reeling in my brain again before it can get back to you. oh what am i supposed to do without you?”

9) drivers license - olivia rodrigo

drivers license is good, don’t get me wrong. but it got the heather treatment in which after being on repeat, the meaning is lost and feels stale. which is sad because its a really good song. personally, i can’t relate to this song all that much because i’ve never been in a relationship and all that kind of jazz so maybe that’s why it got stale for me. props to olivia rodrigo though, she’s an amazing singer and songwriter.

my sister likes the bridge but personally, not a fan. the bridge is usually the build up to the climax but this bridge was more like a resolution. the lyrics on the other hand, wow. “sidewalks, we crossed. i still hear your voice in the traffic. we’re laughing over all the noise. god, i’m so blue, know we’re through. but i still fucking love you.” similar to the other side of paradise, they’re in love with the ghost of a failed relationship. in the 5 stages of grief, olivia’s in the bargaining stage. still unable to accept that he’s gone. (men aint shit)

10) my heart is buried in venice - ricky montgomery

so i was listening to this song while reading the latest chapter of toilet bound hanako kun and boy did that hurt like a motherfucker. i don’t know how to explain this song because other than melancholic. if line without a hook is the beginning, mr loverman is the climax and my heart is buried in venice is the conclusion. its the end. its the parting ways. its the moving on.

“my heart is buried in venice, waiting for someone to take it home.” he knows that they aren’t the one to take his heart home. they part ways and he goes on to look for the one.

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