#this may have been sung by a man but it was made for lesbians. me specifically <3333333333333 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

agenzproject · 3 years

Text

Love above all

It’s been years. Years since I last felt the comfort in her texts.

I thought I could move on. How foolish I was. I find myself chuckling as I recall old me bravely telling her goodbye.

I stare out the window of the car as the quiet uber driver takes me to the hotel I will be staying in. London is exactly as I expected it to be. Gloomy, Grey and rainy.

Staring at the raindrops falling on the window, my mind starts chasing a train of thought. If there’s anything that movies have taught me, it’s that the heart must always be followed. And my heart, it yearns for her.

I haven’t heard from her since I turned sixteen, which was six years ago. I wonder if she still remembers me. I am sure she does not. Yet, I must satisfy this desire within the muscle that dominates my nerves.

We met through text, on a BTS fan account.

I didn’t even know her real name yet, ‘lover’ was enough to know her. We never shared pictures, yet I saw her in my dreams. I had never heard her voice yet; her words were enough to soothe me. I didn’t even know if she was a girl, yet I imagined being with her forever. I didn’t even know if she was real, yet I led myself to find comfort in my moments shared with her.

Was I chasing a dream, or was I going to reunite with the love of my life?

The sudden halt of the uber pulls me out of my thoughts and I look over to see that we have parked in front of the hotel I have a room reserved in.

I smile and thank the driver, to which he responds with an earnest nod. He is a nice man. As I step out, he calls out to me.

“You sure you don’t need an umbrella?”

I look up to see the sky painted Grey, my favorite colour. A smile takes its place on my face and I shake my head. “No, sir, I don’t think that will be necessary. Thank you for offering.”

He nods once again and waits for me to reach the Valet standing at the front door before he drives away.

The valet, a young man in his twenties with blonde hair and brown eyes, bends down in a curt bow upon my arrival and I nod at him.

As I’m about to enter through the sliding doors, I hear yelling and turn to see a man, who I assume is in his thirties, shouting at a girl who is no less than ten for running out onto the road and playing in the rain with her favourite clothes on.

The exchange warms my heart as I watch the girl nod and the father then lead her over to another building, soft yet angry as he does so. It reminds me of my own father. A strong-willed man with a firm hand on things. And it also reminds me of why I have to be in London like this in the first place.

I sigh at the thought, recalling all those nights he yelled at me.

I walk over to the receptionist and smile at the young-looking woman. She offers me a well-practiced smile in return. “How may I help you, miss?”

“I made a reservation under the name Aqsa Malik.” I tell her.

She nods and after seeing proof of my identity, hands me the key to my room on the second floor.

I leave for the elevator after thanking her but before I press the button, I notice two young ladies sitting in the lounge, close to each other. They clearly aren’t English and judging by the curly hair and Arabic written on the bags, I would assume they are from North Africa.

I feel a smile tugging at my lips as I press the elevator button after noticing the two marital silver bands on their ring fingers.

Inside the elevator, I inhale and exhale deeply, happy for those two women, who seemed only a tad bit older than me.

It is a good time to be homosexual. I hope that this works out for me too. I hope that the girl I came to see resonates with me. I hope she agrees that now is the right time. Because six years ago, if you were born a Muslim female, being lesbian always ended in tragedy.

I was hoping this would be an exception as I entered my three-star hotel room, heading straight for the bed, ready for some rest.

Before I slip into my bed-sheets for some sleep, I play a few songs that remind me of her.

Blue and Grey by V is what encouraged me to confess to her.

Rewrite the Stars from the musical, The Greatest Showman, was the song we listened to think of each other.

Talking to the Moon by Bruno Mars was what made me cry every night after we cut communication.

These songs lull me into a peaceful sleep as the soft rain keeps patting my window, giving the room a sense of coolness.

He yelled at me. He told me to forget her.

I wished I had just turned the tab off when my father got home, pretending as if nothing had ever happened. But I didn’t, and he ended up reading all of my texts with her, with a long lecture following afterwards.

Being a Muslim with an ex-girlfriend isn’t easy, especially when you’re just fifteen.

“You’re too young to even think about these things!” He yelled. “How can you determine your sexuality at just fifteen! Straight is the natural orientation of a person, drop this lesbian bullshit!”

I hadn’t cried. I didn’t say anything in response. It would have been of no use. Rewa had already broken up with me, albeit she had said she would still like for us to be friends.

I had apologized to my father a few days later and snuck online through another device, from where I was caught later on as well, all of this happening in a span of just two months.

Three months later, I had a friend contact Rewa’s social media and tell her I’m okay.

We both finally had the chance to talk again over Wattpad.

I smiled, satisfied as I texted her a detailed message on how I was planning to meet her, asking her as much details as the online relationship would allow me to.

I promised her that till the day we met, I would sing Blue and Grey every night the moon was visible in the sky. And I did just that.

But then a text appeared on my screen once she had received the message.

‘Aqsa, I think we should break up.’

Confusion filled my insides. Weren’t we already broken up? If she didn’t want to be in a relationship with me, why would she lead me on and sweet talk me like that so much?

I was furious. For a few moments, I had no idea what to say to her.

Then, I did.

‘Wait, aren’t we already broken up?

Did you seriously forget that you broke up with me?

Did you really sweet talk me all that much just to make me go through the worst moment of my life a second time?

Now I know what my dad feels like every time I go up to him with a half-assed apology with no intention of listening to him a second time.

Unless you have anything important to say,

Goodbye, Rewa.’

And that was the last thing I ever said to her. She didn’t answer and I deleted our chats, promising myself to never look back. Oh, how bad I am at sticking to promises.

Maybe I should’ve gone easier on her. She was just thirteen, after all.

I haven’t sung Blue and Grey to the moon since.

The words come out of my mouth as I stare at the moon, having woken up from my sleep at 3 a.m. My voice comes out deep and heavy, my heart aching with every worse.

Where’s my angel?

I’m sick and tired of everything,

Someone come and save myself,

‘Cuz I am feeling blue and Grey,

Everywhere I go, everything I see,

Can you look at me ‘cause I am blue and Grey?

Every time I smile, Every time I cry,

Can you look at me ‘cause I am blue and Grey?

Oh, I just wanna be happier,

Baby don’t you let me go,

I feel tired in the winter sky,

I just wanna feel stronger

The tears slip down my cheeks without warning as I sit at the chair, huddling into myself further.

I hope she remembers me when I pay her a surprise visit in the morning.

Anxiety is getting the best of me as I stand in front of her college dorm room. Should I knock?

What if her roommate thinks I’m weird? What if Rewa reports me to security? What if she hates me? What if she wants to have nothing to do with me?

I try walking away but then tell myself that I didn’t come all the way from Pakistan just to run away when I am right at her doorstep. I miss her, and whether she does or not, doesn’t matter. I have to see her.

I knock at the door, swallowing down my fear as a shudder runs through my body.

I have to do this. There is no turning back now.

The door opens. A tall, dark skinned, African woman, looks down at me.

It is her.

My breath gets caught in my throat as I stare at her in awe.

It has to be her. Dark skin, curly black hair tied in a pony above her head, and about six feet tall. It is, without a doubt, Olanrewaju, my ex-girlfriend.

Holy shit.

I am not prepared for this.

“Um, can I help you?” She asks, concerned. Her voice is deep, yet smooth as she speaks in a British accent.

I just offer a weak nod, still taking her appearance in for the first time. I try to say hi but it just comes out as a guttural croak. Embarrassing.

“Um, are you okay?” She touches my shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around before. What’s your name?”

Upon her touching my shoulder, my body tenses tenfold. She quickly retreats upon noticing my panicked expression.

“I’ll let you inside and give you a glass of water.” She takes a hold of my forearm, and gently walks me into her dorm.

I don’t register my surroundings as I continue to stare at her strong and bold figure. This is the love of my life and she doesn’t even know it.

She sits me down on what I assume is her bed as she walks over to the jug of water on the table. Thankfully, I caught her alone. Roommate isn’t home.

Rewa presses a full glass of water up to my lips and makes sure it all goes down, allowing me to inhale deep breaths, trying to regain my posture.

It takes a few minutes, but I get better.

I nod at her, offering a small smile.

She smiles back. “Now, tell me, what’s your name?”

I stare at her, my gaze piercing hers. “Aqsa.”

There is a flash of something in her eyes that I hope is familiarity and I think I am right when she takes a double take. “What?”

“Aqsa.” I repeat, as if I have no idea what history she might have with that name. “Why?”

She frowns in confusion, her eyes scanning my entire figure before she shakes her head. “Oh, uh, nothing.”

I nod.

“Where’re you from?” She asks. It’s no secret that she’s trying to figure out if I am the Aqsa she knew all those years ago.

“Pakistan.” I tell her.

Her frown deepens. “Where did you grow up?”

I have decided that I’m going to let her figure it out on her own and act as if I’ve never met her. “Why do you ask?”

She shakes her head a bit, then raises her eyebrows. “Middle East?”

She remembers. I nod.

Her breath hitches just a little and she visibly gulps, studying my features carefully.

“Do I know you?” She asks, her voice small and doubtful.

I stare into her big eyes and nod.

She exhales and looks away, leaning back in the chair next to the bed. She folds her arms across her chest, pondering the situation, her expression unreadable. But the tension in her posture can be sensed without having to try twice. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you I’d find my way to you, didn’t I?” I tilt my head, a soft smile on my face.

She clenches her jaw and I can feel the heavy emotion in the atmosphere that replaces her prior concern. “You also said goodbye.” Her voice is heavy.

I pursue my lips in a thin line and nod. “That wasn’t a promise. I promised that I would come to you when I could, though.”

“How did you find me?” Her voice is a bit steady, yet forceful.

I smile. “You told me you lived in London. I have connections around the place. I have the internet. I know you wanted to study mechanical engineering so searching in all the good colleges amongst the mechanical engineering students was the best way to go about it.”

She is looking at me now, her dark chocolate eyes searching my face for something. “You remember?” Her voice cracks as the words leave her mouth.

I nod, trying my best to not get teary-eyed five minutes into our reunion.

Rewa clears her throat and tries to regain her steady posture. “And what about you? What are you doing?”

Ah, small talk. I allow myself to relax. “I’m studying medicine. I’m in my third year. Also, I’m writing.”

She nods and points at something behind me. I turn around to see a small wooden shelf nailed to the wall above her bed, all of my books resting on top of it.

A small smile appears on my face and my jaw stings, an indicator that I am about to cry. “That’s all of them.”

“I had two since when you first wrote them four years ago and then I just gave up, trying to forget you.” She tells me. “But then Noah noticed them and bought more books as gifts.”

“Noah?” I turn to look at her, frowning a bit in confusion.

She sighs and sits back once again. “He thought that maybe I like the writer, so got all the books he could find written by her.”

I nod, that not being what I wanted for the answer. “Who’s Noah?”

Rewa sighs again. “Forget him. He’s unimportant.”

I clutch the glass in my hands tighter, my desire for knowing who Noah was increasing. I am a curious person. I try to shrug it off by distracting myself with something else.

“Where’s your roommate?” I ask.

She looks to the side to see an empty bed. “Semester just started, so she’s out with her friends.”

“You got any?”

Rewa nods. “One is at home due to an emergency and another is probably at her job right now.”

“Do you have a job?”

She shakes her head. “My parents are still paying for me, it’s all going smoothly. They say I have to start paying my own fees when third year starts.”

I nod. That sounds reasonable.

“They’re divorced, right?” I remember she mentioned it.

She nods and there’s an emotion on her face I have a little trouble trying to understand. She seems satisfied, yet in pain, as if she wished I didn’t remind her of her parents. But on the other hand, she seems happy that I cared enough to remember.

“How’s your sister?” I ask, recalling that she mentioned having a younger sister.

Rewa’s expression eases a little as she thinks of her sister. “She’s doing great. Last year of high school then college.”

“That’s good.” I nod.

The door to the room opens and we both turn to see a girl about Rewa’s age standing there, studying me with her critical green eyes, attempting to determine who I am. Her white skin is covered in patches of brown, as if she was playing in the mud.

Once she’s established that she doesn’t know me, she turns to Rewa for an explanation. “Ju?” Her voice is an indicator to the fact that she’s sensed something is wrong.

Rewa sighs. “An old friend.” Then she addresses me. “Aqsa, this is my roommate, Jessica.”

Jessica advances towards me in a friendly manner, extending her hand out for me to shake, her thin lips forming a warm smile. “Nice to meet you. You can call me Jess.” She has a Scottish accent.

I smile back and shake her hand, nodding. “Nice to meet you too, Jess.”

She nods, her curly, red hair bobbing as she does so. “Where’re you from?” She lets my hand go.

“Pakistan.” I answer. “You?”

“Scotland.” She laughs. “Anyways, I have to hit the shower. See you later.”

I nod. “See you.”

Once Jessica is gone, I turn back to Rewa. “Wanna go out for a drive?”

“You have a car?”

“I rented it.”

She seems to ponder over the offer for a bit, as if carefully weighing the pros and cons of going on a ride with her ex. Finally, she nods. “I don’t see why I can’t go.”

The walk towards the rented Honda is quiet as Rewa seems to be deep in thought while I take in my surroundings, not feeling too nervous to notice them anymore. It’s still cloudy outside, but I think it won’t rain till late in the evening.

I get into the car parked outside the campus and Rewa hesitates once she’s opened the door to the passenger seat. She bows down and looks at me. “Where are we going?”

“We’re circling the next five blocks until we get tired.” I tell her.

She whips out her phone and I think she texts somebody that. A faint smile appears on my face. This is my Rewa. Wary of everybody, no matter how trustworthy they may seem.

She then enters the car and closes the door, fastening her seatbelt.

I start the car and smile at her. “You really think a bestselling author would try to kidnap you?”

She gives me a sheepish smile, a little pink creeping up her cheeks. “You only have one bestseller and I don’t want to take any chances.”

I nod, turning forwards, driving onto the road. “You’d probably win in a fight against me anyway.”

At that, she laughs and that is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard in my life. More beautiful than a waterfall splashing into a river below it. I want to be the one who keeps her laughing like that all the time.

Her laugh dies down after some time and we fall quiet.

“Do you still listen to K-pop?” I ask her, breaking the silence.

“Sometimes.”

“BTS?”

“Yeah. They disbanded though.”

“I know that.” I nod. “Can I play a song?”

“Which one?”

“I don’t know…” I think for a minute, observing the wet streets of London. “Spring day?”

She seems to ponder over it too before agreeing to play Spring day. Once the music plays in the car, something… settles within me. I feel… calm. I don’t know if it’s because of the song or because I’m finally meeting Rewa, but I enjoy this feeling.

The song ends in a few minutes and it’s quiet again. But this time, it’s welcome. It’s not awkward, it feels good.

“Can we be friends again?” I ask all of a sudden.

She doesn’t respond for at least two minutes before nodding. “Wont your dad find out?”

“He doesn’t need to know it’s you.” I smile. “Besides, I’ll be independent in two years and have a job, so no worries.”

“Wont he get you married after that?” She asks.

Why does she care about that? I suggested being friends. Maybe… she’s hoping we can be more? My stomach does a flip at that exciting thought.

“I’ll get out of there.” I tell her. “Do a job here, be free of their restricting opinions.”

She doesn’t respond.

“Will you give me another chance?” In the silence, I ask her the question I have been aching to ask for a long time.

“At dating?” She gets right down to the point.

I shrug. “If you want to. I just want to be a part of your life again.”

“So, it doesn’t matter how?” She asks.

I draw in a deep breath. “I just want to make you happy. I still love you. You can decide how I make you happy. I can be whatever you want me to be. My love for you exists beyond any label this world could slap on us.”

There’s silence again. Then she speaks up. “You’re still the same.”

I blink, eyes still on the road. “What?”

“Before, when we used to text,” She says. “You’d always say something that would fluster me so much. You’re still the same.”

At that, I smile, recalling all the many times I would say something cheesy and make her feel butterflies in her stomach. “Glad to know.”

She gives a soft chuckle in response. “I think we can start off fresh, with you as my friend. I still need time getting over Noah, so-“

“Noah was your date?”

“Yeah.” Her voice is quiet.

“What happened?” I ask, concerned. I swear if this Noah hurt her, I might just have to put ‘become a hitwoman’ on my bucket list, not that I haven’t already considered that.

She lets out a puff of breath, hugging herself. “I don’t know, we both wanted very different things from life. He was too serious about it and I wanted to focus on my future.”

“Oh.” That is all I can say. Noah hadn’t hurt her so there was no reason to be mad. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“So, we can be friends?” I smile.

“Of course.”

I feel all giddy on the inside.

I look to my side and smile at her, slowing the car down. She smiles back, both of us sharing eye contact for a swift moment before I turn back to the road.

I go back to the radio on the car and play Seesaw by Suga, a song and artist we both adore to pieces.

And at that moment, as Suga’s soothing voice instills a sense of safety and Rewa at my side awakes a sense of assurance, I feel complete.

Who knows?

Maybe I can make her love me again, we can resume our relationship and maybe even get married.

Live a happy life.

Six years later, standing at the altar, Blue and Grey playing in the background, as I hold Rewa’s hands, I realize just how right I was.

“I love you, Aqsa.”

“I love you so, my love.”

“I declare you married! You may kiss!”

And we do. A beautiful, passionate kiss, marking the beginning of our life together.

Some tales do have happy endings.

A Story by Riley Gray

#submission #short story #a gen z project #1k to 5k

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andhumanslovedstories · 5 years

Text

Recent country songs that have made me literally gay gasp as a gay woman, in order of how much they make me want to write an essay on gender and queerness

HONORARY MENTION BUT JUST BECAUSE I THINK THIS IS TECHNICALLY AMERICANA NOT COUNTRY (but genre is fake) AND THIS SONG ISN’T RECENT (2014 and I’ve been listening to it faithfully since then) BUT I ONLY RECENTLY LEARNED IT’S A COVER AND THAT’S MADE ME RECONTEXTUALIZE IT: “Murder in the City” by Brandi Carlile, a cover of The Avett Brothers where she changed the words “make sure my sister knows I loved her/make sure my mother knows the same” to “make sure my wife knows that I love her/make sure my daughter knows the same” which fucking. fucking gets me. Especially since the first time that I heard this song, I assumed it was from a man’s point of view because of that line, and then I learned that Brandi Carlile is a lesbian and I was caught up in my foolish heteronormitivity, and then I learned it was a cover and thought oh okay I guess the song is originally from a man’s pov and it’s cool she covered, and then I learned she changed those lines to make a song that already feels deeply personal to her to explicitly include her love for a woman and the family they’ve made together. And that’s just. It’s all just a lot.

3) “Fooled Around and Fell in Love” by Miranda Lambert featuring Maren Morris, Elle King, Ashley McBryde, Tenille Townes and Caylee Hammack, because the first time it came up on my spotify, I saw the title and was like “hey dope I like this song” and then I heard the first line was still “I must have been through about a million girls” and I realized none of the words or pronouns were getting changed and I was getting the song I’ve always wanted and deserved: a high production value, high energy, big girl group tribute to being a lesbian fuckboy who Fooled Around And, oops can you believe it, Fell in Love.

2) “If She Ever Leaves Me” by The Highwomen, sung by Brandi Carlile who is, as mentioned, lesbian, but since I’m apparently still chugging my comp het juice, I was still trying to figure out if this song--a classic “hey buddy keep walking, she’s my girl and she’s not interested” song with an interesting element of the singer being aware the relationship might not last anyway--was gonna be explicitly queer. And then there’s the line, “That's too much cologne, she likes perfume,” and I was like OH HOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!!

This is immediately followed by the lines “I’ve loved her in secret/I’ve loved her out loud” which is also deliciously queer in this context, with this singer and that juxtaposition, but the line that really fucking got me is my favorite of the song: “If she ever leaves, it's gonna be for a woman with more time.” This is two women in a complicated relationship. This isn’t just a “keep walking, cowboy” song, it’s a song that uses that framework to suggest a whole ass “Finishing the Hat”** relationship, and that’s so interesting to me. Like a song that isn’t just explicitly about two women in love but one that conveys very quickly a rich history between the two of them. And in a genre where the line “Kiss lots of boys, kiss lots of girls if that’s something you’re into” was revolutionary representation.

(Fun fact, “Follow Your Arrow” was partially written by Brandy Clarke, another country lesbian! Another fun fact, so is basically every other good country song. Brandy Clark, please write a big lesbian country anthem, I know it will immediately kill me on impact.)

To quote one youtube comment, “”lesbians how we feeling??” and to answer by quoting some others, “As a closeted baby gay in the 90s, who was into country, this song would have changed my life”, “I just teared up. So many happy tears, as a gay woman raised on country music, this is something that's definitely been needed. Thank you Brandi. Thank you highwomen”, “This song means more than I can say in a youtube comment”, and “Lesbians needed this song :)”

It’s me. I’m lesbians.

**ANOTHER HONORARY MENTION EXCEPT IT ISN’T RECENT AND IT ISN’T COUNTRY SO I GUESS THIS IS JUST A MENTION, BUT I AM INTERESTED IN THIS SONG--“Finishing the Hat” by Kelli O’Hara. A very good Sondheim joint, that’s about making art, the costs of its obsessive and exclusive nature and the incomparable pleasure of putting something into the world that wasn’t there before. It’s such a traditionally male narrative that I’m thrilled to find a wonderful female cover of it. I’m not even fussed about her changing the gender from the lover who won’t wait for the artist (except that the shift from “woman” to “one man” sounds so clunky) because there’s value turning this song into a lament of the men who won’t love artistic women. But I do also wish she’d also recorded a version that kept the original gender so it would be gay. OKAY BROADWAY TANGENT OVER, BACK TO COUNTRY.

1) “Highwomen” by The Highwomen, ft. Yola and Sheryl Crow. I can’t even express the full body chills the first time I heard this. Like repeated, multiple chills renewed at every verse of the song. This really closely parallels my experience with “Fooled Around and Fell in Love” up there, because when I started it I was like “oh dope I know what this cover will be” and then the lyrics started and I was like “OH MY GOD I DIDN’T.” In the case of “Fooled Around” it’s because I was amazed that they kept the original words. In the case of “Highwomen” I fucking transcended because they changed them.

So I grew up on Johnny Cash, obsessed with a couple of his albums but largely with a CD I had of his greatest hits. (Ask me how many times I listened to the shoeshine boy song. Hundreds. Johnny Cash told me to get rhythm and I got it.) And my FAVORITE was “Highwayman” from the country supergroup he was in, The Highwaymen. The concept of the song is that each of the four men sing a verse about a man from the past and how he died. It’s very good. The line “They buried me in that grey tomb that knows no sound” used to scare the shit out of me. I didn’t expect to have a song that targets so specifically my fear of being buried alive in wet concrete.

(If you haven’t heard the song, by the way, listen to this version to properly appreciate it as a piece of music. If you have, watch the fucking music video holy shit this is a work of art oh my GOD.)

So I was predisposed to love this cover before I even heard it. But then I heard it. And they rewrote the song to be about historical women. And it’s like. There’s layers here okay.

Neither the Highwaymen nor the Highwomen are signing about famous people. This isn’t a Great Man tour of history, it’s about dam builders and sailors and preachers and mothers and Freedom Riders and also Johnny Cash who flies a starship across the universe, as you do.

In the 1986 version, it’s a song about the continuity of life--the repeated idea is “I am still alive, I’m still here, I come back again and again in different forms.” The highwayman is all the men in the song. He reincarnates. The song is past, present, future. The title is singular, masculine. The same soul, expressed through multiple voices, multiple lives.

In the 2019 version, the title is plural, feminine. Highwomen. This song is about women. Each verse asserts the same motif as the 1986 version--“I may not have survived but I am still alive”--but there is no implication of reincarnation. Each woman is her own woman. This version has a final verse that the previous versions lacks. The singers harmonize. It’s not a song where one voice replaces another, the story of this One Man progressing through time. It ends in a chorus of women saying “We are still alive.”

We are The Highwomen Singing stories still untold We carry the sons you can only hold We are the daughters of the silent generations You sent our hearts to die alone in foreign nations They may return to us as tiny drops of rain But we will still remain

And we'll come back again and again and again And again and again We'll come back again and again and again And again and again

Another fun fact! The first time I heard them sing “We are the daughters of the silent generations” I died! But luckily I came back again and again and again.

This is a song about the continuity of history. It asserts that women’s historical lives matter and that they continue to matter, long after they died. This is a song about legacy as well, the legacy of nameless women who worked to protect the ones they loved and make the world better. They don’t die by chance. They are all hunted down by political violence, by racism, by misogyny, for stepping outside their prescribed roles. But, as Yola (who btw fucking CRUSHES THE VOCALS ARE YOU KIDDING ME?????? HOLY SHIT MA’AM) sings as a murdered Freedom Rider, she’d take that ride again. And at the end of the song, she joins the chorus but does not disappear into it. Her voice rises up out of crowd. And the crowd calls itself “we”. These women are united but not subsumed into being One Woman. This is about Women.

And then, outside the song itself, there’s the history of this song about history. It’s originally by Jimmy Webb and was covered by Glenn Campbell. This cover inspired the name of the supergroup that covered it, the group with Willie Nelson, Kris Kristofferson, Waylon Jennings, and my man Johnny Cash. And it’s like holy shit! What an amazing group to collaborate! Hot damn!

Then, it’s 2019 and here’s The Highwomen with Brandi Carlile, Natalie Hemby, Maren Morris, and Amanda Shires. The name is obviously riffing on The Highwaymen. Shires set out to form the group in direct response to the lack of female country artists on the radio and at festivals. And they name themselves after a country supergroup, and they put out this song, a song connected to massive names in country music, and they center all of this on women and womanhood and the right of women to be counted in history and to make history and to talk about the ways we have mistreated and marginalized women, in a group that started because one woman was like hey! we’re mistreating and marginalizing women!

I just think this is neat! I think there’s a lot here we could unpack! But this post is 100 times longer than I was planning and work starts in a bit so uh I’m gonna go get dressed and listen to The Highwomen on repeat for the next hour, “Heaven is a Honky Tonk” is another fucking bop that improves on the original, it would be dope if they’d collab with Rhiannon Giddens, okay byyyyyyyye

#don't even know what to tag this bc for one there's way too many links for this to show up in any tags!!#country music #long post #surprisingly long post!#feel free always to rec female country/americana/folk/bluegrass to me esp if it's gay

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mymusicalnostalgia · 4 years

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We Need To Talk About t.A.T.u.

Right off the bat, I want to say that for a long time it has been very hard for me to find a joyful nostalgia in the band t.A.T.u. as when I found out the truth about them it made me deeply uncomfortable.

Even at the time, seeing their music video for “All The Things She Said” was a bit uncomfortable for me at the age of 8 because why were all these people watching them? Why were they locked up behind a fence? Why were they so sad? Why did they look like they were in danger?

For some seeing these girls project a lesbian relationship may have been a sexual awakening finally realizing they aren’t straight (and that is totally ok), but for me (who didn’t realise I was a bisexual until my early 20s), it was close to finding someone’s hidden bondage kink zines at too early of an age. The way their management framed lesbianism was far from what being in a same sex relationship is. For this band, it has always been through the male gaze, it has always been for the male lense. It also was all extremely pedophilic which is a major concern. These girls were put through that.

A Bit of Information On Their First Two Albums

In 2001 they released their first album “200 Po Vstrechnoy’’ which was sung entirely in Russian and was heavily themed on teenage lesbian sex and love. The album cover and booklet was stylized to look like a criminal case file, with mug shots of both girls featured on it. Perhaps to correlate with homosexuality being a such a frowned upon thing in Russia, to make it seem sexy.

In 2002 their second album “200 km/h in the Wrong Lane” was released. It was sung in English, a first for the band. This album continued on with the same themes are before but also incorporated sadness, independence and social rebellion. You know, the regular things teenage girls get up to except through a pornographic lense. The usual...

This album gave us the well know singles “All The Things She Said”, "Not Gonna Get Us" and "How Soon Is Now?" which every single video featured Lena and Julia in either running away from somebody, standing in the rain wet (no doubt, a nod from management to those wet fetishists), or featuring them live on stage wearing next to nothing exhibiting themselves. These are the videos that are still on Youtube, and they are mainly UK or alternative versions.

Attempting to Unpack the Faux Lesbianism and "Paedophilic Pop"

In 1999 Ivan Shapovalov created the band t.A.T.u. to deliberately market them as a school-girl lesbian music project that was made with men in mind as he knew that men have fantasies about these merged themes.

Lena Katina and Julia Volkova were only 14 years old when they had auditioned for the band and were put into the care and management of this man.

According to Wikipedia “The girls prepared in 2000 where they wanted the choreography "precise", to a point where one segment featured the girls stripping off their clothes; this was scrapped from the original plan.” These girls were under 16 years old at the time.

They had many tours during their second album that were cancelled due to poor ticket sales. Who would buy tickets for their teenage children to watch these two perform? Homophobic parents aside here- any concerned parent about taking their teenage girl to go see a band setting the example that they must be lusted after by males at such a young age... Well that is just terrible parenting. Any straight male older than 19 should had known better than to go see them live in concert, too.

This band was barely about the music and mostly to do with exhibitionism and the male gaze. Again, according to Wikipedia “Many musical journalists, publications and music critics had branded the group's music as "paedophilic pop".

In the late 90s to early 2000s there was this fascination with seeing two girls kiss and it was a pretty homophobic obsession. TV hosts obviously loved it because they no doubt saw it as a “side show” tactic to boost ratings and controversy.

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This video is of the girls (at just 19 years old) featuring in an episode of British show Top Of The Pops, hand-cuffed to each other with the promise of doing something controversial.

The male host unashamedly announces “next up, a controversial russian duo who have shared a great amount of success and saliva, topping charts all over the world...”. This host just tells me that there was no respect for these two girls as human beings and he was just as eager as the audience to gawk at them. They close in on each other at the end of the song but turn their heads away as soon as the crowd begin cheering. A female host wraps up the performance by saying “they either set tongues wagging, or hanging out, that's t.A.T.u!” Glad to see feminism was alive and well in the noughties.

How Has Being In This Band Affected The Members?

Julia got into a bit of strife for saying homophobic things about gay men in 2014 on the TV show Lie Detector when asked how she would react if her son came out to her. Despite being bisexual herself, she stated “Yes, I would condemn him because I believe that a real man must be a real man...a man has no right to be a fag.” She followed up with “Two girls together—not the same thing as the two men together. It seems to me that lesbians look aesthetically much nicer...", which tells me everything I need to know about the negativity from her experience that she must have held onto for so long. She was taught from a very young age that people want to see lesbianism, that they lusted after it. But she lives in a country that is very conservative to real homosexuality.

And for being so sexualised at such a young age, where was the concern for their well being? Where were their parents? Why were they under management of people with no concern for their welfare?

In 2007 Lena boldy participated in a LGBTQ+ Pride Festival and in 2012 her solo band played at Queerfest. From Wikipedia: "We all are very different people and we should celebrate our differences. We should not be silent when we see this intolerant aggression towards LGBT-community"

So on one hand, Julia has displayed very negative values that she has come to live by, whereas Lena has shown growth and aliship towards those in the LGBTQ+ community.

In 2004 the girls legally broke their contract with Ivan Shapovalov and their label Neformat. Katina stated in an interview with Ananova, "He made us out to BE lesbians when we were just singing FOR lesbians. We wanted people to understand them and not judge them. That they are as free as anyone else.”

The band t.A.T.u has a very murky past and were forced to display a lesbian relationship marketed towards men while they were at a very inappropriate age which makes feeling nostalgia for the band a very convoluted experience.

#t.A.T.u.#tatu #all the things she said #not gonna get us #200 km/h in the Wrong Lane

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shesthewindandsea · 5 years

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all the things I would do

Summary: “It’s alright, dear,” she would say. “It’ll be alright.” But there was no reassuring voice and there was no hand to calm her and so instead Crowley screamed and sobbed and cursed everyone above and below that she could name.

A Good Omens retelling of the Greek Myth of Orpheus (Crowley) and Eurydice (Aziraphale). There's nothing above or below that's going to stop Crowley from getting her nymph back.

Beginning Notes: Okay so lets try this again. First off, I literally cannot believe this is actually done. I started it way back in November and now here we are. I’ve been sitting on it for so long I’m so happy to get it off my computer. Now if you don’t know Orpheus and Eurydice is a myth about a human man with a gorgeous singing voice (Orpheus) who falls in love with a nymph (Eurydice). They get married and all the gods are very supportive of their union! Human men though, not so much and it quickly goes downhill from there. I tried to stick to the original myth as much as I could so temporary character death plays a major role in this story but I had to give them a happy ending so it’s worth it, I promise! As always the title is taken from a Hozier song, Talk, and the lyrics are actually mainly focused on the myth! The vibe from the song and the meaning behind it though are very different from my story but it’s still go to listen to so I highly recommend. And if you’re a fan of Sappho then you’re in luck because I have a bunch of Sappho fragments in here as Crowley’s songs because if you’re writing about lesbians in Ancient Greece you can’t not have Sappho. There are two that are straight up Sappho and one that’s a combo. You’ll know it when you see it. I might be writing temp character death but I’m not a monster. Lastly, and most importantly, thank you to @poetic----nonsense who betaed a good chunk of this and is overall just a wonderful human being who I love very much.

“Would you sing me a song?” She asked, as if her nymph’s voice itself were not a song to be wept over, an offering to encourage the skies, the stars, the moon, and the Gods themselves. Crowley wanted for nothing but to feel the question against her lips and taste the honey that dripped from them. As if Crowley wouldn’t leap at the chance to please her nymph.

“Mm, you’ll have to let me think of one, my love,” Crowley teased and her nymph smiled, hand squeezing tighter for a moment. Crowley tore her gaze away from Aziraphale for a moment to look to the stars poking through the dark sky above the hill, as if they would give her the answers she needed.

Crowley knew hundreds of songs, the songs she had heard in her days of wandering through villages, mingling among common people. She listened to their work songs, their songs of love, their songs of sorrow sung over open graves. She knew the songs of the Gods — the ones that pleased them and ones that sated them and the ones she wasn’t supposed to know. And Crowley, of course, knew her own songs. Half formed melodies hummed to the trees in the forest. Their roots would dance beneath her feet and the ground thrummed with their movement. She’d whisper words to the waves licking her bare toes as she stood facing the sea and the gulls would cry back their pleasure. She could make flowers bloom and the sun shine and the moon smile.

And yet to sing a song of her love for Aziraphale seemed the most daunting task she had ever faced. What words could ever speak of such devotion, could begin to describe the choking feeling in her throat and the fullness in her stomach that only came from being with her immortal wife? The best singer in all of Greece, in all the world, could not even begin to form a single verse that could accurately communicate them. And she was; Crowley was the best singer in all of Greece and yet this ability escaped her. She could but only try.

Keep reading on AO3 or

And so try she did. The only other option was to leave her dear nymph without a song to enjoy as they held hands under the night sky and that simply wouldn’t do.

“You know many songs, both those of the Gods and those of man, dearest. Do be quick about your decision. We haven’t got all night after all.”

Crowley’s mouth twisted up in a wry smile as her wife propped herself up on her elbow, a delicate pink cheek resting in her palm, and yet her other hand did not release its grip on Crowley’s.

“Perhaps not. I may not be able to sing for you after all. To think of the perfect song for you requires time that I don’t have. I may have to use my voice to serenade Gaia first, allow me some borrowed time so I may find the right words,” Crowley pondered out loud, while Aziraphale sent her a chastising look. She released Crowley’s hand for a moment to give it a gentle pat in admonishment. Their new rings clinked together softly — ringing in the cold night time air and floating up towards the stars overhead — and Crowley vowed to memorize the pitch for a later use.

“I won’t hear of such things. Anything you choose will be perfect, so long as you are the one singing it. You could sing of the most morbid and morose things and I would be none the wiser. Your voice makes me forget everything I know.”

“Not everything, I hope. I pray you never forget me.” Crowley pinched the pudgy skin of her wife’s palm and before she could raise a fuss, Crowley was brushing her lips over the flesh there, like a petal dancing over the surface of a pond.

“I would never. Should you continue to prolong my wait, though, I may consider changing my mind. Do get on with it, dear.”

Crowley quickly sat up with a dramatic gasp and a hand to her chest. “Why I never!”

“Crowley.”

“Yes, of course, beautiful.” Crowley cooed with a smirk. Even so, she continued to mess about for a few short moments, feigning some important preparation before another stern look from her wife forced her to begin her song.

The most haunting notes and devoted lyrics slipped like wine over Crowley’s lips. She sang of the sweetest apple being left on the upper-most branch waiting to be sampled by only the most devoted taster, her lover ready to savor its sweetness. Of the flowers — pink, purple, and white — waving in the wind atop a hill only to be worn down by the bare feet of shepherds, trodden into the ground while waiting to be plucked. And everything slowed for a moment — the world stopped spinning, the wind stopped blowing, and the light of the stars traveling across the vast empty darkness froze in its tracks — to listen with all the attentiveness of which they were capable. The utter love and fidelity ingrained in the very essence of even such a mournful tale enraptured all that could hear.

Aziraphale, of course, in the face of such unwavering emotion, was trapped in Crowley’s gaze like a fly in honey, eyes never wavering for even a moment in an effort to show her godly lover the sincerity of it all. Here are my feelings, laid naked and bare in the grass for you. Pick them apart. I hide nothing from you.

She doesn’t need to, though. Aziraphale can feel every note wash over her like the scent of spring riding a breeze or a raindrop trailing its way down one of her oak leaves. And it made her feel like she held the light of Crowley’s love in her hands. Like she could feel its heat and warmth. It was like nothing else she had ever known before.

As Crowley continued to sing and Aziraphale continued to blossom under her praise, her power flowing through her less like a stream and more like a river. Her fingertips tingled with the force of it. Natural elements around them began shifting as some Aziraphale’s power leaked out of her skin. The grass around them suddenly grew long enough to tickle the skin of their ankles, wrists, the soles of their feet, all unclothed and vulnerable. The air suddenly tasted of anthemion and smelled of fresh fog steaming off a pond in the early morning.

And Crowley was just as entranced by Aziraphale’s power and unearthly beauty as Aziraphale was of her voice. So she continued to sing to please her wife, her voice a prayer and the words a dedication trickling like the juice of a peach over her lips and chin. Fire raced under skin every moment she held Aziraphale’s graze, every moment her love appeared more unhuman-like. More like a delicate flower bursting from a human body.

“And lovely laughing — oh it

Puts the heart in my chest on wings

For when I look at you, a moment, then no speaking

Is left in me”

There were a million words, a million combinations of those words Crowley would sing to her in a million different ways if only her breath would allow it. But she was, after all, only human and so her breath ran out and her tongue dried and her cheeks reddened like the setting sun and she was grasping Aziraphale’s shoulders so tightly that she feared she may cause her pain. So she stopped and collapsed into Aziraphale’s open arms.

“My goodness, are you quite all right?” Aziraphale asked with no small amount of concern in her voice. Crowley’s head rested on Aziraphale’s chest. She could hear the nymph’s heart thumping softly in her chest while her round, heavy arms encircled her and the weight of them offered a kind of warm comfort that could come from nowhere else.

“Mm, yeah. ‘M good,” she offered weakly, much too occupied with trying to fit her arms around Aziraphale’s plush middle while keeping her head pillowed on the nymph’s chest..

“Are you sure? You’re very out of breath.” Her arms moved up and down Crowley’s back in an effort to soothe and relax her, coax her back to breathing slower.

“Sure I’m sure. Wanted to keep going is all,” Crowley murmured, finally interlocking her fingers behind Aziraphale’s back and squeezing as close as she could get. Aziraphale refrained from commenting for the moment and just held her close. “Wanted to sing your praises.”

“Yes, well. You can’t do that if you pass out, now can you?” One hand continued to lightly trace over the pattern of freckles on Crowley’s exposed shoulders where the strap of her chiton had slipped off. The other wandered lower under the fabric, seeking out the soft skin of her back.

“Suppose so.” Crowley replied, her voice wispy and eyelids growling heavy.

“Why don’t we head home? It’s getting awfully late.” Without waiting for a response, Aziraphale moved Crowley to her liking before picking her up in her arms. Crowley merely hummed and allowed herself to be carried back towards their forest home, her head resting in the dip between Aziraphale’s neck and shoulder while lazily kissing under her chins and behind her ear.

The world was still quite dark when Aziraphale woke the next morning. The moon had very nearly finished her journey across the sky while the sun had just begun his, the blackness of the sky slowly giving way to a blaze of fiery colors. The mingled light drifted softly into the room through the window and danced across both bodies still curled together, kissing skin and running its fingers through long strands of hair both red and white, despite Aziraphale’s apparent wakefulness.

Of the two of them, Aziraphale more frequently woke first — she did not need to sleep as her human companion did, though this never stopped her from remaining with Crowley until she woke. The cool air of a summer night made Crowley’s warm body wrapped around her own very enticing, so Aziraphale often found herself willing to lay awake, clinging to Crowley’s arm around her waist, until the moon fully gave way to the strength of the sun’s light. Then she would allow herself to probe further, both hands and lips slowly growing more incessant until Crowley groaned her way into the world, horribly burdened with the task of responding to her nymph’s need for reciprocation.

“It’s only fair,” she’d say, eyes shining with mirth, and of course it sounded perfectly reasonable to Crowley when it was put like that; so she’d press her own smile to Aziraphale’s lips before moving to her cheeks and forehead and chins and down her neck.

Now, though, Aziraphale could only smile fondly upon the many memories she had floating around her head as she gently lifted Crowley’s arm from around her. She had different plans for this morning. Yesterday had been such a lovely day, wedding and all, and such an event should only be followed by a perfectly lovely morning of warm air and green grass, beautiful blossoms and fruitful trees to accompany their typical porridge breakfast.

Of course, this meant venturing out into the wood before light rather than gently prompting the fig trees in the garden to finish their bounty perhaps a bit soon. Crowley became ever so disheartened when Aziraphale meddled with her garden. A mere thought could quickly encourage every flower in the courtyard garden into full blossom. She suspected it was a matter of pride for Crowley — working the soil with nothing but her own hands and stubbornness — though that certainly didn’t stop Aziraphale from offering a bit of helpful advice and encouragement. Crowley didn’t seem to mind that much.

So Aziraphale quickly and quietly dressed, not bothering with putting her hair up with all her ribbons and ties, creeping through the house while carefully dodging the floorboards she knew creaked, and out the door. A bit of damp night air weaved through the shadows cast on the ground by the weak light of the moon. Aziraphale had spent many years among the faerie folk of the wood and water surrounding their home, certainly no coincidence by any means, and so she had little fear of those who lay beyond their house, even in the cover of night.

She wandered about mindlessly, no particular path set in front of her, instead moving about the trees whispering loving encouragements about how wonderful they were all doing and how beautiful they were and could they maybe spare a few flowers come morning? She knew it wasn’t the right season but wouldn’t it just be wonderful? The grass beneath her feet grew, laughing, as it stretched to caresses the calloused bottoms of her feet. The flowers that tasted light, airy, and sweet when paired with hot water waved shyly up at her as she strode by. The trees whispered amongst themselves across the breeze.

It was all so wondrously beautiful. She was tempted, for a moment, to go back to her house, crawl into bed and gently wake Crowley as she always did even if it was, perhaps, a bit early; the stars shone so brightly tonight even in the fading darkness and Crowley absolutely adored the stars. It would ruin her surprise, though, and Crowley did seem awfully tired after so much singing earlier that day. There was also the matter of the surprise. The look on Crowley’s face when Aziraphale led her out into a groove of wild fig trees and oak blossoms was too good to pass up.

Not yet time to wake her, then. The stars would always be there for her lovely new wife to see another night. But as Aziraphale stood there watching the sky, it became clear that she had not as much time left as she first thought. The stars were starting in blink out, one by one, and the yellow of the sun was largely overpowering the pale light of the moon. It was time to begin her journey back home. And though she felt some sadness leaving the forest behind for now, just as the stars would be there for Crowley every night, the forest would be there for Aziraphale and she could enjoy it anytime she liked — perhaps even with Crowley’s company next time.

Besides, she had a whole journey back to appreciate everything around her and look forward to waking Crowley soft and slow.

Aziraphale had made it about half way — she’d be back just as the moon disappeared and the sun took over — when something suddenly felt very wrong. The air felt thick and heavy; the wind whipped about her, blowing her hair in every which direction and obscuring her sight; everything felt dark despite the growing glow of the sun arcing through the sky.

Aziraphale never had reason to fear the forest or any of its inhabitants before and even now she did not believe it was one of them that intended harm.

Mortals, however, were very dangerous. The Gods may have blessed and rejoiced Aziraphale and Crowley’s recent marriage, but the mortals were not so unanimous in their support. After all, the beauty and power of a nymph paired with Crowley’s enchanted singing and playing, there was certain to be resentment among some. Aziraphale feared losing Crowley above all else.

That wasn’t something she was willing to risk, so she stood her ground, looking for the cause of all the discontent amongst her forest friends. Through the tangled mess of hair flying around her, she could see him, a man, standing there not but a few steps away. He was dressed in luxurious fabrics and his eyes an odd color, some light shade of purple.

“Come with me,” He spoke plainly, as though discussing the quality of fruit at the market this season.

“You,” she started, voice quivering a bit. She wrung her hands in her lap. Aziraphale didn’t actually know the man very well, but they’d met before when Crowley had only just begun courting Aziraphale. Something had always been off with him. Aziraphale knew she had an influence over men to some extent, not one she could control of course, but the way they all looked at her, it made her cringe. Even still, this man in particular, the man with the purple eyes, stood out among them. The way he looked at her was almost predatory. Like he knew she’d be his one day.

Like all he had to do was wait.

She never bothered telling Crowley about it. Sightings of him were few and far in-between. And what were they to do — a singing woman and a nymph — to confront an obviously well-off man? It was better to live with the relatively minor discomfort than to put both Crowley and herself in harm's way.

“Come with me,” he said again, soft now in an attempt to persuade her, and he held out a hand to her. “I can take care of you in a way different, better, than the woman with you now.”

He took a step forward and smiled like he was hiding something behind his teeth. It made Aziraphale sick.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’m here. I’ll take you away from that wretched woman.” He took another step forward.

“You know not of which you speak.”

The man’s smile faltered for a moment.

“I will not go-” Aziraphale bit out before he cut her off. Her hands suddenly clenched tight at her sides.

“If you do not come willing I have no choice but to take you and kill her.”

“-anywhere with you.” she sneered and continued on. “Not now and not ever.”

Finally the man’s smile dropped away completely. He looked absolutely furious.

“You know nothing of our love. I expect you never will and for that I am truly sorry. But you speak of ownership, not companionship. I would never leave her and you cannot take her from me.” Without another word, Aziraphale hiked up her skirt and turned, bolting down the path, hoping to reach home and warn Crowley before that awful man could get to her.

It didn’t take long for her to hear hurried footsteps come after her. She made a quick decision and turned off the path into the trees.

She threw an arm behind her with an apology on her lips. Tree branches bent to help obscure the path. The slash of a sword and shattering wood rung in her ears. She could see her home in the distance and began to scream for Crowley, over and over, her voice shrill and breaking. Tears stung her eyes and her heart was pounding faster than it ever had before and her lungs were heaving so heavily that they burned. She heard the man — shouting, swearing, slashing at the barriers the forest had built for her — somewhere in the distance behind her. She had glanced back for only a moment, but a moment was all it took.

She tumbled to the ground. A sharp pain throbbed around her ankle and then it was suddenly giving out underneath her. She let out a shrill cry just before her head cracked against the hard ground.

A snake bite, no doubt, and a venomous one at that judging by the localized pain and how she very suddenly felt like she was going to vomit.

Her head hitting the ground certainly wasn’t doing anything to help. The light of the forest was blinding now and everything had begun to spin and blur with such intensity that Aziraphale thought she’d soon be ill. She tried to get to her feet, to get moving again, but she was on the ground again before she could even stand. Both of her legs ached. She didn’t have long. There was nothing to be done for her.

Oh, but Crowley. All Aziraphale’s worries weighed heavy on her mind as she laid there on the forest floor. What would Crowley think when she wakes to see Aziraphale’s side of the bed long since cold and empty? What would she do when Aziraphale hasn’t returned by mid-day with no clues to indicate her whereabouts? What sort of dreadful things would race through her mind when Crowley found her empty body only a short stroll from their home? Aziraphale could hardly stand to think of such things. To leave the love of her life so soon without even a simple ‘good-bye’ would break her heart.

And it was with that thought that Aziraphale found a final burst of strength and stubbornness — and, of course, love — and hauled herself up from the ground. She managed to grab a large branch to lean on and began hobbling forward as best she could in her weakened state.

The world rushed around her and her head felt like it was floating, like the insides were adrift on a boat that was violently rocking back and forth.

Sweat dripped down her face and tears flowed freely from her eyes. She had never been so dizzy before and her mouth was very dry and her tongue felt so heavy. Her heart was pounding faster than ever and breathing was becoming very difficult and her entire body was shaking despite how very very hot she felt.

The trees and path were blurring and she can hardly see the house anymore — could she have been moving backwards? Had that awful man grabbed her and began hauling her away? Was she already dead?

It was with one final breath that “Crowley” slipped ever so softly from her lips that her body began shaking something terrible.

She fell to the ground with a heavy thud and everything went black.

Gabriel ran after the nymph, waving around his pilfered sword in a desperate attempt to hack away the thick branches and thorns that had inexplicably grown up in front of him. The nymph was too far ahead of him. He could just barely hear her feet thumping against the ground somewhere in the distance.

So caught up was he in his task that he didn’t hear a sharp cry of alarm.

Eventually Gabriel made his way through the wood barrier and gave chase. When he reached her though, he found himself standing not but a few paces from where the nymph had apparently fallen to the ground. She did not move, even to draw a breath.

Not wanting all this effort to go to waste in case he was mistaken, Gabriel cautiously stepped forward. Perhaps it was a trick, a way to lure him closer only for her to strike him.

He walked until he stood in front of her head. Still she did not move. Using the very tip of his sword, he lifted her forehead from the ground. Her eyes were expressionless and her mouth slack.

Dead then.

Gabriel tutted at her, shaking his head before letting her head fall back to the ground.

“Truly disappointing,” he thought, “and such a waste of a beautiful creature.”

He turned, facing away from the dead nymph, and sheathed his sword before venturing back in the direction from which he had come.

The world was awfully bright when Crowley finally woke that morning. Much brighter than she had grown used to. Sunlight streamed grandly through the window and the birds chirped happily somewhere off in the distance. It must be late, much past the time Aziraphale would have normally woken her.

She reached out in front of her and her assumption was proven correct — Aziraphale had already risen and left Crowley alone in their bed. She finally opened her eyes, the full unobstructed force of light making her wince for a moment, to see her hand reaching out for empty air.

It wasn’t exactly a frequent occurrence — waking up without Aziraphale next to her — but it did happen once in a while. Crowley generally found this meant her nymph was up to no good. Normally, highly amusing for Crowley in the end, though it left her with a low ache to wake up without a lovely, round body keeping her warm and a soft belly to throw her arm around.

Normally, Crowley would shrug it off with a mere moment’s hesitation and roll out of bed, stumble into the kitchen in a state of disarray to eat something before getting properly dressed and tending to her garden.

And normally, Aziraphale was back not long after Crowley had woken, already having had plenty of time to get up to whatever mischief she’d fancied.

This time it felt different, though. The ache in her belly, that longing for Aziraphale’s back pressed to her chest and solid weight under her arm, hurt deeper. It felt heavy, like she’d swallowed a rock and it was sitting low inside.

So Crowley laid there for a bit, just staring at the empty half of the bed. Her stomach ached a while longer in some inexplicable nervous anxiety and she felt a bit cold but really there wasn’t much cause for concern. She just didn’t want to get up knowing she’d have to bide her time before Aziraphale arrived home. Perfectly reasonable.

Even with no good reason to remain, Crowley languished in bed for a while longer, watching the shadows glide across the wall.

It didn’t take long for Crowley to realize something had gone wrong. Eventually she did get up out of bed, got dressed, ate, and headed out to the garden. After weeding for a bit, she headed back in for a drink of water fully expecting to catch sight of Aziraphale nibbling on a vine of grapes from yesterday’s dinner while sipping wine and nibbling some bits of cheese. Crowley had never been sure of whether nymphs actually needed to eat, but necessity or not Aziraphale seemed quite taken with it, especially when Crowley grew the food herself.

Crowley would stride across the room, Aziraphale’s name on her lips, and take her nymph’s lovely pink cheeks in hand, stroking the soft skin while Aziraphale would giggle and flush, tsking at the soil being smudged onto her face. Crowley would bury one of her dirty hands in the short curls at the back of Aziraphale’s neck where they had escaped from the bun she’d done up with ribbon.

And then they’d kiss. Aziraphale would taste of bitter red wine and sweet purple grapes. Her hands would wrap around Crowley’s shoulders and eventually wander to where her hair was pulled hastily into a ponytail earlier that morning. And they’d stay like that until Aziraphale would tug Crowley back gently by her hair.

'I am trying to eat, dear.’ She’d whine. ‘Why don’t you join me for a bit?’

Except Aziraphale’s name didn’t have the chance to leave Crowley’s mouth. The kitchen was just as empty as it had been that morning. She pursed her lips and frowned. Truly, Aziraphale might not have been gone long — Crowley had been asleep when she’d snuck away and Aziraphale could’ve left any time between Crowley falling asleep and her waking up — but midday was quickly approaching, which meant lunch, and Crowley had never known Aziraphale to miss a meal since they’d met. If she wasn’t in the kitchen she must be close by.

After inspection of every room in the house, calling her name out and around the edge of the house, and returning to the garden just in case, Crowley headed to the forest. It was the only other place she could think to look. It was, after all, entirely possible Aziraphale was completely fine and had only lost track of time revisiting the place she had spent most of her life. It hadn’t happened before but it wasn’t impossible.

After finding her admiring some tree somewhere, Crowley would sneak up behind her, wrap her arms around the nymph and scare her a little. She’d jump and chastise Crowley for ‘sneaking up on me like that! Really Crowley, you’re absolutely horrid’ and Crowley would tell her how then maybe she shouldn’t sneak off in the early morning and make Crowley come looking for her. Aziraphale would apologize for making her worry. They’d walk home together and the knot in Crowley’s stomach would unravel and she’d kiss her nymph sweetly on the forehead and they’d enjoy lunch in the back garden where Crowley grew her flowers while Aziraphale talked about what she’d gotten up to that morning. Crowley would try to listen only for her to inevitably get lost staring at just how absolutely beautiful Aziraphale was, get taken in by how lucky she’d gotten in marrying such a stunning creature. Aziraphale would ask what she was looking at and when Crowley told her, she’d get pink all down her neck.

That would make up for all the worry. It would make up for the lump as big as a pomegranate stuck in Crowley’s throat; she could just barely swallow around it. It’d make up for the way her hands shook and the weakness in her legs. It was unbearable.

She wandered down the path a ways, calling out for the nymph (“Aziraphale! Where are you! I can’t find you!”) until she reached the bank of the river that ran down from the mountains and cut through the land. It wasn’t particularly wide or deep, but there was no way across without getting wet and Aziraphale had never been especially fond of getting wet unless they’d set out together to cool off on a very hot day. She certainly wouldn’t have any reason to cross, either. None that Crowley knew of anyhow.

Worry was beginning to give way to full blown panic. If Aziraphale wasn’t anywhere on the path then she must be in the woods somewhere and as much as Crowley trusted Aziraphale to keep from purposefully getting in harm's way, knew she’d spent her entire life here before Crowley had swept her up, Aziraphale did tend to attract danger that required a hero’s rescue. Crowley was always more than happy to play that role for her, though she was never quite as happy with whatever series of events proceeded.

Before Crowley could think, she was sprinting back down the path, singing at the top of her lungs. Crowley's voice had yet to fail her in whatever she used it to do, whether that be serenading Aziraphale with some song or poem of her choosing or singing an angry work song that would scare a particularly stubborn plant into submission.

Or to command the very air around her to lead her to Aziraphale when she was lost.

It hadn’t happened before and it certainly wasn’t going to happen now.

The line between singing and screaming quickly began to muddle as Crowley was overwhelmed with emotion, tears streamed down her face, her throat was raw and burned.

The world around her responded as though it had emotions of its own. The wind whipped her hair and clothing around her, pulling and pushing her. The leaves hissed in the branches above. The world was so furious and sorrowful. Crowley had never been so worried in her life. She didn’t want to think of what could’ve happened that affected it so.

The wind shifted so suddenly that Crowley nearly fell over. Instead of moving her forward, she was jerked to the left off the path and toward a jagged collection of branches that looked like they’d been hacked carelessly apart. Crowley’s breath stopped dead halfway up her throat.

She had fought.

Someone must’ve been chasing Aziraphale and she had fought. Aziraphale had fought for her life. There was nothing else, no one else, that could’ve manipulated nature in such a way. Crowley could only look upon it with horror. She would’ve collapsed right there if not for the wind trying to keep her moving.

Eventually, Crowley was forced out of her stupor and focused on stumbling through the dense trees as quickly as she could manage, the wind directing her moments as she went.

There was no clearing, no soft sunlight streaming through the trees, no gentle breeze rustling the grass; nothing that could make her feel like Aziraphale hadn’t suffered when she died. Everything around her was brown and dead.

Gods, she’d never get used to that thought. She was gone. Dead.

Aziraphale was dead.

It’d taken Crowley a while to actually get where she was supposed to be going, not that she’d known where that was. She just sort of ran in whichever direction the wind pushed her. But when she saw a crumpled mass of white lying deathly still in the middle of the woods, she’d known this was what she was supposed to see — she knew it was Aziraphale.

The wind immediately went still and all was silent throughout the woods. They knew what had happened and what was to come.

Crowley shrieked her name and it came out a splintering, broken howl. Tears flooded her eyes and flowed freely down her cheeks and dripped from her chin. She ran to her wife, the soles of her feet burning with the pain of cuts from the rough forest floor littered with shards of shattered branches. Her legs gave out beneath her. She crawled closer and reached out only for her hand to hover over Aziraphale’s back, the white fabric of her peplos was stained brown from where she lay in the dirt.

She crawled further up, towards Aziraphale’s head. Her face is flat against the ground and Crowley couldn’t see her expression but the skin of her forehead was showing. Aziraphale has always been fair-skinned, certainly, but now— the color of her skin could only be described as a sickly white.

She had to see, Crowley had to see her face. She swiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand, drying them momentarily, and took a shaky breath, trying to brace herself. She moved to sit on her heels next to Aziraphale and rested her hands on Aziraphale’s side. Even through the peplos, her skin was so cold, not at all like Crowley was used to.

It took a few good hard shoves to get Aziraphale facing upwards. She was completely limp, dead weight, left to Crowley to move all the while choking on the sobs stuck in the back of her throat. It was torture.

Nothing could prepare Crowley for what she would see. Aziraphale’s face was so white and cold. Her mouth slack and her lips a dull, faded pink. Her eyes open, blank and empty, staring up into the endless sky above her. There was no depth or mirth as there always was when she looked at the world around her. There was no endless love as there was when looked at Crowley with that sweet little smile that was just for her and-

And it broke Crowley’s heart.

And she threw herself over-top of Aziraphale’s stomach, squeezing the flesh that had always been there for Crowley to latch onto. She was so cold and still, no heartbeat thrumming in her chest.

She could almost feel the ghost of Aziraphale’s hand stroking her back, rubbing her neck, her breath in her ear.

“It’s alright, dear,” she would say. “It’ll be alright.”

But there was no reassuring voice and there was no hand to calm her and so instead Crowley screamed and sobbed and cursed everyone above and below that she could name.

She called for Aziraphale, for her to come back, begging and pleading until her voice left her.

You’ve gone. Somebody’s killed you and you’ve gone.

Crowley wept and wept until she could weep no more. Her eyes and nose had run dry and swollen as bright red as her own hair. And by the time the last of her tears had dried, the sun was beginning to set. She had spent nearly the entire day in mourning. Not nearly long enough, Crowley thought, but it would have to be enough for now. She needed to use what remaining light she had to get back to the house. Normally an easy task, but she had Aziraphale to carry back with her. Crowley refused to leave her in the forest overnight. She’d sooner sleep here in this very spot. The idea was almost appealing until she remembered that this was the very spot Aziraphale had died, the spot the light had left her eyes, and then it was so revolting that she lost whatever was left in her stomach.

In the end, the moon had risen and fallen by the time Crowley finished her task. She never went to bed, far too afraid of the cold, lonely expanse left next to her in the bed. Instead, she slept in the fruit garden next to a fresh mound of soil. She still missed the warmth of her lover, but at least here Aziraphale would still be beside her.

Crowley never had to deal with grief before, not grief like this. Never for someone as important and special as Aziraphale had been. The only other emotion she knew it to be like was, oddly enough, love.

Just as consuming, just emptier. It never slowed down, never stopped or let Crowley rest for even a moment. Never constricted by time. It choked her like a vine around her throat, slowly squeezing until she couldn’t breath and her eyes watered. There were moments where it was so much that she could feel the physical weight of her own body being pressed down into the Earth. She could feel the heaviness in her limbs and the way her tongue sat in her mouth. Her legs couldn’t hold her body up and then the ever present unbridled sadness pressing down on her added so much more, she’d eventually just fall. Wherever she was, she’d fall to the ground and cry for as long as it took for her to find enough strength to stand again. Oftentimes it took hours. It was too much. Everything was surreal and at the same time it was like Crowley was just floating numbly, not even feeling the ground beneath her.

Then she’d stagger back to the garden. She’d refresh the white oak flowers resting on Aziraphale’s chest. It had been months now and even still every tree produced the tiny white flowers, their way of mourning her, Crowley assumed.

Every day she’d go out and pick a fresh bunch. After, she’d just sit in the dirt, silent and staring. She hadn’t sung since she’d patted the dirt down firmly over Aziraphale’s body.

She’d done everything right, cut no corners in preparing Aziraphale to enter the Underworld. She’d washed and anointed the body, wrapped it in linen shroud (though she couldn’t bear to cover her face), and placed in the ground atop vine and crowned in garland. Finally, she’d closed her eyes and mouth. Easier than one might think. Her eyes were growing white and cloudy and Crowley couldn’t stomach keeping them open any longer. Then Crowley had sung her to sleep.

And as Crowley mourned the loss of Aziraphale in her refusal to sing, so too did the world mourn the loss of Crowley’s voice. Even the Gods missed the sound of Crowley’s singing and how it floated up to them on the wind from below.

Many of them understood such a heavy loss hurt Crowley deeper than they knew and waited patiently for the day that her songs may return to them. Others, however, seemed a bit less understanding and were growing weary of Crowley’s constant desolate mood. Her voice was her dedication, her way of honoring them, in place of food or drink. Without her singing, she owed them something else, and yet in all the months since Aziraphale had died, not a single note had been sung nor had they received an offering. They gathered together and all came to the same conclusion — something must be done.

They sent down a messenger one night to confront Crowley as she lay on her back in the courtyard garden with Aziraphale, raking her fingers aimlessly through the soil next to her, the dirt pushing up under her nails.

Her eyes scanned the stars even as the messenger appeared next to her.

“Crowley,” they said to her, standing over her, tone without patience. Uriel had never been one to dance uselessly around an issue.

They spoke Crowley’s name again, this time more terse. Even still, Crowley did not so much as dart her eyes in Uriel’s direction.

“This is ridiculous. You know what I’m here for.” Uriel fixed Crowley with a particularly withering glare.

“It’s only ridiculous to you.” Crowley finally broke her silence. “You didn’t know her and now you never will. She could weave the winds of the sea and the mountains together with a whisper. She could send a meadow into full blossom with a snap of her fingers. I’d fall to my knees for her and she’d help me up. And now she’s gone.”

Crowley propped herself up on an elbow. Her face was carefully still but there was a fire in her eyes. “Tell me again how my sadness means so little.”

Uriel’s lips drew tight. “The Gods require your tribute, Crowley. Your songs acted as such. Sing or you will find yourself in an uncomfortable situation.”

“Aziraphale meant, means, more to me than any of you ever did,” she said slowly and resigned herself back to the dirt, eyes directed back up.

“Thankless creature,” they sneered the words with venom and Uriel’s collected demeanor vanished for a moment.

“What is there to be thankful for without her! I can’t go back to the way things were before.” Uriel took a moment to think.

“If the nymph is what you require, we are prepared to offer a solution,” they finally said. “Retrieve her from the Underworld. I will point you in the direction of the nearest opening.” Crowley’s head darted away from the sky and looked up at Uriel looming over her, hands folded primly in front of their chest. She revealed no further emotion to Uriel, but inside her head was spinning and her stomach was churning.

“You will know the way when the sun rises tomorrow morning. Remember Crowley, traveling to the Underworld is no trivial journey. You will need all the strength you possess to get there and to come back.”

“Of course.” Uriel fixed Crowley with a dubious look as the human woman stood from

the ground, brushing dirt and dust from her chiton, before they returned to the Gods.

Crowley watched them fade away before returning her gaze to where Aziraphale lay under the ground.

“Wherever you are,” she started, “I’ll come get you. I’m coming, Aziraphale.” It still hurt to speak to Aziraphale like this, like she was in some faraway place that Crowley couldn’t reach, but that would end soon enough. She knew what to do about it now and there was nothing above or below that could stop Crowley from getting Aziraphale back.

Even if it was clear that Uriel hadn’t been Crowley’s biggest supporter when they came down for a visit with a list of demands from on high, they weren’t a liar. Crowley had a bit of trouble drifting off to sleep the night before, but when she woke the next morning, it was just as Uriel had said — she inexplicably knew the way to a portal leading down to the Underworld. She had never moved faster from the bed in all her life. She grabbed something to eat and her lyre, tied her long hair up out of her face, before she was out the door in a flourish.

Crowley hadn’t felt nearly so happy for many months; she couldn’t help the way her lips began to twitch up in a smile as she began her journey. Perhaps it was a bit premature to feel such joy, but Crowley would do anything to succeed. Nothing had ever been so important before and regardless of whether Crowley failed or not— well. She would soon see Aziraphale again no matter what happened.

The walk was certainly a long one, the sun rising higher and higher up into the sky, but Crowley passed the time strumming her lyre, humming softly to herself, and admiring the white oak blossoms on the trees, the way the petals floated softly down around her. It could only be made better by Aziraphale strolling next to her, her plump fingers filling the space between Crowley’s while her nymph chatted away.

It still hurt remembering Aziraphale wasn’t with her now because she’d died, thinking how she’d died all alone. Even knowing that she was on her way to get Aziraphale back, it only eased the pain so much. It was like she had tried to take a deep breath but her lungs couldn’t quite expand enough and she got stuck halfway. Even if she got Aziraphale back, rosey-cheeks and all, it would always hurt a little. Seeing her pale, facedown in the dirt without so much as a twitch to move her — that was an image Crowley would never forget. A wound that would never completely heal over. Knowing there was a chance for her though, it made her feel lighter.

After some time, Crowley came to what was, no doubt, the portal she had been searching for. There were no guards or really any other obvious features that indicated she was in the right place. Far too conspicuous that. She’d nearly walked right by it but there was something that told her she had arrived, some energy that pulled her back. Even just standing there in front of it, she felt a bit overwhelmed.

It looked like nothing more than a large hole left in the ground, perhaps an animal burrow or the site of a felled tree, the hole the remains of where its roots had buried themselves underground. It made sense, of course, for a portal to the Underworld to be nondescript. You certainly couldn’t have anyone stumbling upon it and wandering in. (Though you could say that’s what Crowley was doing with just a little more purpose to her wandering in.)

Well, she’d done enough standing around. It was time to do what she had come here for. Crowley took one last fortifying breath and stepped forward. The ground instantly crumbled beneath her feet. The hole widened and she fell with a shout.

It was like falling out of a dream and into a nightmare. She was in a free-fall between worlds, black and empty and so silent you could hear static, before she fell out of the sky and into the Underworld. Her body smacked into a steep ledge of densely packed dirt. She tumbled over the side, down and down; she couldn’t stop herself. She just fell and fell, trying to reach out for something to grab onto, a root or branch, but there was nothing. Nothing grew in the Underworld and so Crowley fell, the hot dirt searing the bare skin of her face and bruising her limbs, until she managed to claw her fingers into the ground.

Eventually, she slowed her fall to a slide and then a stop. She laid there for a moment, trying to catch her breath.

Even that simple task was surprisingly difficult. Everything was different down here, including the air. It was thin and murky, like looking through water when you’d just dragged your feet along the muddy bottom. The dirt she’d stirred up in her fall hung around her like a cloud. The deeper she tried to breath, the more difficult it became, like the air had wrapped its wispy hands around her throat and squeezed, choking her.

Her throat felt sore and her chest tight with panic and pain and she coughed so much Crowley thought she may actually cough something up. Her face turned bright red and black dots were floating in and out of her sight line. She’d been down here not long enough for a cloud to pass over the sun let alone long enough to find her way towards Hades, and she was about to die here in the dirt choking on the toxic air of the Underworld, a loose grip away from tumbling towards a different death.

Well, that wouldn’t do at all. Crowley clamped her mouth shut and did not breathe. The coughs were suffocated in the back of her throat. It burned and her eyes watered, but after a moment she could feel herself calming. She took small, slow breaths through her nose instead and suddenly she wasn’t dying. She let out a sigh and pulled herself up to stand, half lunging. Her legs spread and a balancing hand pressed, fingers wide, to the ground, helped her as she looked out over the world beyond her.

The sky was a vibrant orange, as if the sun was going down though there was no sun to speak of. The rest of the land was dark and dead and horrid. The mountains were so blue and dark they looked black. The dirt was grey, ashy, and hot to the touch. Even looking down at her own hands, Crowley’s skin was already fading from a soft brown to grey and pale. She was on borrowed time here. She needed to hurry down towards Hades and Persephone.

Gingerly, she lifted her hand from the ground and took a short breath before she shifted her weight forward. Almost immediately she was sliding quickly towards the base of the mountain. It didn’t take long, even with her stumbling and falling and a couple times. The ground was visibly different — a strong grey and black stone that looked as though it had risen up from the center of the Earth — but still it felt no different from that of the massive structure Crowley had just come down from. Even now standing on solid ground, she felt as though she might begin sliding downward, the calluses on her feet rubbing, burning from friction. Still, she had come here for Aziraphale and she wasn’t leaving without her, so she started off in the direction she thought would lead her to Hades. She didn’t know for sure that she was headed in the right direction, but something inside of her pulled her just as it had in the forest. It hadn’t been wrong then so surely she could trust it again down here.

It was strange, walking through here with a sense of direction and yet not really knowing where you were. The path led her through a gorge and felt as though it were constantly winding, taking sharp turns and looping around itself, but it only led her straight on. It made her feel like her head was swimming.

She felt watched but never saw anyone else nor could she pinpoint the source. It was like something was circling her. The walls on either side of the gorge went up higher than she could see and at moments it felt as though they were narrowing, trapping her. Her mind was fighting itself, half of it telling her to turn around and run back to where she had come. The other half insisted that she could only escape if she continued forward. The entire experience was deeply disturbing. Still, she pressed forward.

Just as she began to wonder how long she’d been walking for, how much longer it would be before she reached Hades’ palace, the land morphed and the path crested over a dirt hill with the horizon painted with broad strokes behind it. Only moments before, Crowley had stared down a path that stretched on forever and the sunless sky was so far ahead it looked like an orange pinprick in the distance. She frowned, understandably confused, but she ran to the top of the hill and looked down, not at the other side of the hill, but rather over a waterfall and a sheer drop underground. Even though she could hear the water running down, it was as though the hole had swallowed all light itself. Completely pitch black, she couldn’t see a thing past the rim of the hole.

It took but a moment of decision. Crowley closed her eyes and jumped.

The hot air from above evaporated, rushing from her lungs and diving out her throat. It felt like her very spirit raced to leave her and hurry back to the surface. The air turned from dry and thin and dirty to wet and dense and sterile. Her entire body shook violently against the sudden sharp temperature drop. The sound of the water roaring filled her head and her mind hurt with how heavy it felt and it was so cold and what was going to happen when she reached the bottom? How much water had pooled there? How deep was it? Would she splash or splat?

She found out before any worries had time to spiral further. One moment she had been falling and the next she felt solid ground under her feet, like it had rushed up to catch her. The air had stopped whipping around her. It was still and silent. Crowley opened her eyes to find herself standing at what must be the bottom of the waterfall, except there was no waterfall. It’d completely vanished. A misty river of depthless water wound out in front of her. Looking up, she couldn’t even see where she had fallen from. It was as dark as a starless night, the blackness empty and hungry.

Crowley was standing on a wooden dock in the middle of the water. Next to her, a cloaked figure stood at the rear of a long papyrus boat with an oar. A lantern sat at their feet, the soft yellow light flickered dimly and illuminated the empty seat in the middle of the boat. Crowley couldn’t see their eyes, if they had any at all, but she felt them looking at her expectantly.

“Do you require some form of payment for me to ride?” Crowley asked as she stepped off the dock and into the boat, forgetting any hesitation. It rocked gently with her added weight. The light from the lantern spilled out over the sides of the boat and bounced off the stone walls of the cave.

The figure said nothing, but lowered the long paddle into the water though they made no effort to push away from the dock. The ripples from their movement danced across the water almost hypnotically. The boat rode smoothly atop the waves, like a drop of rain sliding over the waxy coating of a leaf. If Crowley didn’t know any better, she’d say they were waving at her, coaxing her. She felt the wordless whispers of many different voices caress the outer shell of her ear. Her gut clenched and she suddenly felt violently ill.

“Do not look into the water,” a voice said, though Crowley could not say from which direction it had come. She felt the overwhelming urge to look directly into the water despite what she had heard. So she did, ignoring the warning.

At first she saw nothing but the pale blue water and her own image looking back up at her. The longer she looked, though, the further she leaned over the boat and the more she could see. There were white arms and hands reaching up, grabbing at the sides of the boat. They grabbed her reflection, squeezed her neck viciously. They covered her mouth and yanked her hair. She tried to scream but the hands over her reflection’s mouth muffled the noise, forcing her to swallow it back down her throat. She could feel it rattling around inside of her.

“Do not look into the water,” the voice spoke again, this time louder and more assertive. The ferryman used the end of their oar to push Crowley back inside the boat. They weren’t at all forceful, but Crowley still ended up flying backwards into her seat, violently shaking the boat from side-to-side. Her throat felt bruised and it hurt to breathe.

Once she was calm enough, she noticed her lyre sitting at the bottom of the boat. She had brought it with her, she suddenly remembered, but must’ve lost it when she entered the Underworld because she certainly didn’t have it while scaling the side of the mountain or any time after that. She turned back toward the figure standing stock-still at the rear of the boat. Even sitting below them, Crowley could not see their face beneath the shadow of their hood. Their body was entirely covered by their robe. Even as they held the oar, stroking the water more than actually rowing, Crowley couldn’t see their hands. Her mind felt fuzzy and static when she looked directly where they should be.

Perhaps this was the expected payment. She was hesitant to sing until she was reunited with Aziraphale, without her it felt almost profane, but playing her lyre — that was something she could do. The rest of the trip, Crowley strummed along and looked dead ahead until the mouth of a separate cave came into sight. It was absolutely enormous, so big that it shouldn’t have actually fit inside this cave. Stalagmites grew from the top of it and Crowley could see a twisting path that almost certainly led through to Hades’ palace.

The ferryman lifted their oar from the water. The ripples began to fade back into the water and the boat drifted along for a short while more before slowing to a stop beside a second dock.

Crowley, taking her lyre with her, stood from the boat and onto the dock. She gave one last look at the ferryman before setting off down the path towards Hades’ front gates.

She didn’t have to walk far. Down the path and around a long bend and Crowley was staring at the set of terribly tall and imposing iron gates with what looked to be a gigantic three-headed dog sleeping in front.

She swallowed and continued forward. The ears on one head swiveled in Crowley’s direction and she froze. None of the heads moved but a pair of ears was definitely interested in her. Slowly she pressed on, one step at a time, and humming low in her throat trying to warm up her voice.

“Oh deities of this dark world beneath the earth,” she started softly, speaking more than singing. Even so it was undeniably melodic. Two eyes opened, staring her down.

“I am not pretending. I wish I were dead.” All three heads were now paying attention to her, but not a one moved. They all watched her as she moved closer to the gate, moving faster now and gently playing her lyre to match her voice.

“I come not down here because of curiosity to see the glooms of Tartarus,” she continued, fully singing with tears in her eyes. She couldn’t put off any longer now. “She was leaving me in tears, and over and over she said to me: ‘Crowley, it hurts. What's happened to us is just so grim. It isn't my choice, I swear it, to leave like this.’ And in these words I answered her:

“‘I want to remind you of the good things we have enjoyed. For at my side, many the crowns of violets and roses you have put on yourself, and many the garlands woven from flowers you have cast round your delicate neck, and with quantities of flowery perfume fit for a queen even, you anointed yourself all over, and on soft beds, delicately you have satisfied desire.’

“You may not know Love down here, but I do: by this Place of Fear, this huge void and these vast and silent realms, renew the life-thread of my loving Aziraphale! After all, one day, when grey and old and full of age, she shall be yours yet again and forevermore. All I ask of you is just a few years of her life. But if the fates deny to me this prayer, then I do not want to go back, and may you triumph in the death of two!”

And when she had finished, she began again. Cerberus looked at her with mournful eyes as they let her walk past. She rested a loving hand as high on their head as she could reach and their tail thumped loudly, shaking the ground. Crowley couldn’t help smiling a bit as she slipped through the bars of the gates.

Her voice echoed through the whole of the Underworld and it was so moving and haunting that everything stopped. Danaids ceased filling their pitchers with water; the souls stopped their moaning; the wheel of Ixion suddenly stopped turning; even those unconscious and inanimate objects mourned for Crowley and Aziraphale.

Every time her song finished, she would start again— violent, frenzied and inconsolable— until she was in the throne room and kneeling at the feet of Hades and Persephone. Hades, a giant woman with dark skin and long brown hair, ringlets falling over her shoulders, held more elegance and cold power than Crowley could bear. She stared down at Crowley. Her arms rested immobile on the arms of her throne. Persephone sat in his throne on Hades’ right side, just as huge and imposing, but softer and lighter and kinder. They both wept.

Crowley went through her song once more and then stopped for breath. She knelt there, a mere ant in comparison to the Gods she pleaded with, panting with her head bowed and shoulders hunched, her lyre at her side.

“Please,” she said and looked up at the two Gods. They held her fate in their hands, her entire life. “I don’t know what to do without her. The world does not deserve her, but I would rather spend eternity here than alone on Earth.”

They both stared at her, cheeks and eyes wet, then at each other, and back at her seemingly have come to some nonverbal agreement.

“Very well,” Persephone smiled and wiped away his tears. “You shall have your wife back.” Crowley began to stand, mouth open ready to stutter out a string of “thank you”s but she’s cut off before she can start.

“However,” Hades started. “You must not look back at her until you both stand in the light of the sun. If you look back at her even a moment before, she will fall back into the Underworld and she will never return to the World of the Living. Do you understand?” Hades looked down at Crowley, her expression stern but open, almost as though she was pleading with Crowley.

“I understand,” said Crowley, fully getting to her feet. “Thank you very much.” Even with the threat of truly never seeing Aziraphale again painfully etched into her ribs, Crowley was practically vibrating with relief.

“Be on your way, then,” Hades commanded and raised a huge hand to gesture to the door.

“She will be behind you the entire time. Lead her back. Remember.”

Crowley nodded. “Don’t look back.” And with that she turned and headed out the door.

She didn’t need to slip through the gate, this time they swung open for her. Cerberus sat there waiting for her. They accompanied Crowley and Aziraphale back down the path to the ferryman. She got in the boat and didn’t need to charm them with song or playing for them to row back down the river.

Crowley didn’t look in the water.

She didn’t look behind her when the boat didn’t shake with the weight of another person climbing in beside her.

At the first dock, Crowley climbed out of the boat and instead of finding herself standing on the dock, she found herself above ground. The hot, orange light blinded her and the returned sound of the waterfall roaring was deafening, though a comfort. The sudden adjustment needed to get used to the hot, dry, dirty air takes Crowley a moment. She takes a few slow breaths through her nose before moving forward.

She didn't hear anything but the wind stirring up dirt around her.

She heads back towards the mountain, once again following the pull inside of her. The walls still narrow around her and her head still spins with the feeling of being watched. The hot dirt scalds the soles of her feet with each step, like being on a beach with bare feet.

Going up the mountain was really a very different experience than coming down and Crowley wasn’t sure which was worse. She was about halfway up and she could see the open portal waiting for her and Aziraphale.

That is, if Aziraphale was behind her at all. She never turned around to check, just in case her nymph really was there, but Crowley had been growing increasingly skeptical. She couldn’t feel Aziraphale there with her. Crowley’s always been able to feel her. Maybe it was because she wasn’t really alive yet? It was only a part of her that was with Crowley, after all. Or was it this place, manipulating and using her fears against her?

But she hadn’t heard a single noise from behind. If Aziraphale was really there, she hadn’t said a word, hadn’t breathed, hadn’t made a sound. Aziraphale loved to talk and Crowley loved to listen. The fact that she hadn’t uttered a single word this entire trip worried Crowley to no end.

They were nearly to the top now.

‘Should I turn around?’

The heat grew more intense as they climbed higher and higher into the sky.

‘Just to check?’

Some dirt escaped from under her foot and Crowley nearly ended up tumbling back down the side of the mountain.

‘What if this isn’t real? I should check.’

She hauled herself back up and quickly found herself scampering up the last few steps to stand at the top.

‘What if I just glance over my shoulder. That doesn’t really count as looking, does it?’

She looked directly up over her head up through the portal. She could see the trees and clear blue sky. She could hear the sound of a breeze shaking the leaves and could feel the coolness on her skin. She closed her eyes and basked in it.

‘Just for a second.’

She stretched an arm up and she could feel the phantom warmth of the sun on her skin. Everything didn’t feel so hot anymore. She felt like she could actually take a sweeping breath, feel the clean air fill her. She relished it.

‘I need to know. I need to see you.’

Crowley opened her eyes and started to spin around.

Then she stopped.

She was back in the World of the Living and she was staring at a tree. A real live tree, brown and tree. She could feel the sun on her skin, she felt it. When she reached up through the portal, it must’ve brought her back. She'd been back longer than she thought.

She couldn’t bear to actually turn around now. Despite feeling so desperate for it not a moment ago, she couldn't actually bear to do it. Was this all some elaborate ploy by the Gods, cosmic punishment, for her refusal to sing?

Instead, Crowley takes a shaky breath and reaches a hand out behind her.

Someone takes it.

Crowley lets out a weak sob and squeezes. There isn’t really anything to hold, though. She turns around to see Aziraphale, beautiful as ever, of course. Crowley has never wanted to hold Aziraphale more than she did right now. She wants to fall to her knees and wrap her arms around the nymph’s vast expanse of soft belly and bury her face in the fabric of Aziraphale’s peplos and feel the warmth there radiating outward. She wants to relish in the sweet scent of her wife, let it surround and swaddle her. She wants to get to her feet and kiss Aziraphale’s cheeks and chins and shoulders and every single thin white stretch mark climbing up her arms until she can’t anymore. She wants to hold Aziraphale and never let go ever again.

But she can’t. She’s turned and Aziraphale is there, thank all those above and below she’s here, but Aziraphale still doesn’t have a body. Her image is thin, wispy. Despite all the things that seem to have happened on their own today, Aziraphale’s body has not walked itself over for her to re-inhabit. They need to go home and work on that together. But it doesn’t matter. Aziraphale is here and alive again.

“I missed you,” Crowley says, weeping. “I missed you so much.”

Aziraphale beams at her, beams at her like the fucking ray of sunshine that she is, and mouths back to her ‘I missed you too.'

They wasted time walking back home together. Aziraphale’s body wasn’t going anywhere, after all, so they may as well enjoy the trip back. The oak blossoms were finally wilting from the trees, celebrating that Aziraphale was back and Crowley was finally happy.

And since Aziraphale had no voice to talk, Crowley filled the silence. She picked at her lyre to the tune of the wind and the sound their rings make when they touch. She regaled the tale of her traversing the whole of the Underworld just so she could save her wonderful, beautiful wife after she’d gone and got herself into trouble again.

“Really, my love, I don’t believe there’s a single thing that could keep you from getting yourself into some sort of mess,” Crowley mentioned almost offhandedly but with a bit of snark. Aziraphale made a face. Particularly one that said, ‘I-really-want-to-say-something-back-but-I-can’t-so-I’m-just-going-to-look-mildly-put-out’.

“You’re just lucky there’s also not a single thing that could keep me from coming to rescue you.” Aziraphale seemed to be mostly satisfied with that answer.

When they finally arrived back home, the sun had set long ago. Crowley wasn’t entirely sure how much time she’d actually spent down in the Underworld seeing as there were no days or nights there, she just knew by the time they got home, she was absolutely famished and exhausted. She imagined once Aziraphale was back in her body, she’d feel much the same.

Before they could eat or sleep, though, Aziraphale needed her body. And then that body was going to need a good dressing down and washing up. So, Crowley took to the garden and carefully started digging, scooping away handfuls of dirt from Aziraphale’s body. She didn’t want to take any chances using a shovel. It took a lot longer that way, but it was very much worth it in Crowley’s opinion.

After most of the dirt was gone and they could finally see Aziraphale’s face, Crowley froze. Aziraphale was alive, she was okay. Crowley knew that. She could feel Aziraphale sitting beside her, could feel her eyes on her, could feel a hand gently resting on her back. Aziraphale tugged on her chiton to get her attention. Looking up from Aziraphale’s cold empty body to where he spirit sat next to her, eyes so alive and full of love and concern — it gave her whiplash.

“It’s okay. I’m here,” Aziraphale mouthed to her, exaggerating her annunciation so Crowley understood exactly what she was trying to say.

“I nearly lost you.” The words left Crowley in a rush. “I almost turned around. At the last second I nearly ruined everything.” She hardly knew what was coming out of her mouth, everything felt so blurry and muddled and all the emotion clogging up her throat made it burn and her eyes felt wet again.

Aziraphale just smiled, soft and a little sad, her hand moving from Crowley’s back to her face. Crowley tipped her head, leaning her into the airy feeling of Aziraphale’s palm.

“It’s okay.” She mouthed and Crowley cried harder. She wanted to lean into Aziraphale’s arms; she wanted to be held and told a million times ‘it’s okay’. But that couldn’t happen. Aziraphale needed to leave her, just this once more.

Crowley wiped her eyes and jerked her head towards Aziraphale’s body waiting for her.

“Go on then. Can’t wait all night for you to get comfortable.” Aziraphale sent her a fondly exasperated look before she suddenly disappeared altogether and Crowley had to catch herself as she fell forward.

It took a moment, an excruciatingly long moment, but eventually Aziraphale sat up from the ground with a huge intake of air, eyes flying open, cloudiness fading quickly, and looked around wildly. She was already much less pale, less cold. Crowley was on her in an instant, in Aziraphale’s lap with her arms over her nymph’s shoulders and pulling her as close as they could get. Aziraphale’s thighs — her legs, her exposed skin — from where her wrappings had come undone pressed against Crowley’s own bare skin and it’d never felt so good or so grounding before.

“I’m here,” she said against Aziraphale’s lips — they still tasted of summer months and morning dew drops even after all this time. “I’m here. I’m here.” She repeated it like they were the only words she knew how to say. Aziraphale kissed back with as much fervor as she possessed.

“Oh my dear, my sweet love. Crowley, how glad I am to be with you again. I’ve missed you so much, dearest.” Aziraphale couldn’t hold Crowley close enough. Walking beside her all that time home, not being able to fully touch, not able to speak — it wasn’t nearly enough.

“You could never fail me, Crowley.” Aziraphale went on, reassuring and soft, trying to sooth Crowley of the worries she had voiced earlier. “You missed me and you were so close. You didn’t want to wait. I understand. But I knew you wouldn’t turn around. I trusted you just as you do me. It’s okay.” Aziraphale herself began to cry as she reassured Crowley. The nymph brought her wife’s dirty fingers up to her mouth to kiss each knuckle, each fingertip. Crowley wept with relief.

Aziraphale had no concept of time when she was gone, no conscious thought for the months she was in the Underworld. And yet, while there she felt an aching loneliness down to her very core. She missed something so deeply and yet she could not name it. She could but moan for the loss of something she could hardly remember. She knew now what she yearned for was the press of Crowley’s fingers to the rolls of her back and the taste of Crowley’s apricot lips on hers and the enchanting sight of dark spots spreading over her tan shoulders from time in the sun and her golden eyes blinking slowly at her from across the kitchen table as the evening sun flooding the room. She missed Crowley worshiping every inch of her body and her doing the same in return. Walking back with Crowley had been relieving of course, seeing her alive and well was already more than she could've hoped for. But this, touching Crowley, feeling her skin prickle under her touch, it wasn't something she could ever go without.

“Come,” Aziraphale said, breathless and between placing delicate kisses to Crowley’s eyelids. “Wash up with me. I can't stand the feeling of all this dirt. Then we can go to bed.”

“Mm,” Crowley responded, still very much distracted. “Sounds good to me.”

They went down to the river, trading fruit between themselves as an impromptu dinner as they went and sharing indirect kisses (and some direct ones), and washed their clothing side-by-side, hanging them in the trees to dry. They took turns bathing and washing each others’ hair, fingers gently combing through knots and massaging the dirt away. Eventually, Aziraphale simply laid with her back to the bank, her head in Crowley’s lap as her wife lovingly ran her long fingers through her nymph’s white curls and scooped up pools of water with cupped hands to wash Aziraphale’s face and shoulders.

“Lovely still after all this time, my love. My beautiful nymph. My memorizing dryad. My wife.” Crowley murmured contently as she massaged the plump skin of Aziraphale’s neck. Aziraphale hummed back. Her eyes were closed but she could feel Crowley’s gentle gaze sweeping over her.

“All the same can be said for you, my dear delicate human. How the gods have blessed me so with your love.” Aziraphale opened her eyes for a moment to meet Crowley’s gaze and smiled. Crowley gave a smile of her own and planted a kiss on Aziraphale’s forehead.

Both would’ve been completely content to lay there all night long, but the night air grew cool and they longed for the comfort of their bed. They put their clothes back on, though still relatively damp but clean, and headed back. At home, they changed into dry clothes and huddled together in bed facing each other with arms slung over waists and legs entwined under the blankets.

“Would you sing a song for me?” Aziraphale whispered over the slide of fabric over skin.

“Ngk. S’pose I’ve got one in mind that might do.” Crowley watches Aziraphale’s sapphire eyes blink heavily at her. So she sang, the notes vibrating through her — down her throat, down her torso, down her arm, and out through her fingertips where they squeeze Aziraphale’s hip so she can feel them too.

“You came and I was crazy for you,” her voice steadily grew steadily softer, sweeter, quieter as Aziraphale could no longer bear to keep her eyes open. “And you cooled my mind that burned with longing.” The bright white light of the moon hit Aziraphale’s back and cast her in a halo of godly light. The image burned itself into the front of Crowley’s brain as her own eyes grew heavier than she could stand. Her breath slowed, her body grew loose and she dreamed of nothing but the sight of Aziraphale standing in that very same stunning light as she held Crowley close.

“I’m here,” she said. “I’m here and I will always be.”

#OOF #this was a monster to write and edit #but it's done now and I'm not touching it anymore #jules writes #good omens #spring omens #good omens fanfic #all the things I would do #and thank you again to poeticnonsense for helping me edit they're absolutely fantastic #ineffable wives

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migleefulmoments · 5 years

Note

lmao Abby is losing her shit because Darren is gonna be singing White Christmas with Lea on her new Christmas album. Apparently that song is "sacred" and can only be sang by Darren and Chris. She seriously needs to get a grip.

Anonymous said: "I can be upset, I think it is a complete slap in the face. there are like 3000 christmas songs, there are THREE that are sacred. And yes, D should have sad no." Oh look Abby doesn't approve of something Darren is doing AGAIN. Seriously she claims to be his biggest fan but yet complains about everything he does.

Man, I didn’t see this coming. I’m amazed at how deeply emotional they are about a scripted, tv-show couple and a really old song! I might understand if Abby was a lesbian teenager and this was 2011. It was empowering for gay, lesbian and bisexual kids and young adults to turn on network tv and see people that looked liked them. But times they have a changed. Klaine and Brittana pushed boundaries, but in 2019 there are LGBTQ characters on many shows, Netflix has LGBTQ programing and Ryan Murphy continues to create shows that specifically tell LGBTQ stories-ie Pose and he has created LGBTQ characters for all of his shows because that’s life. He’s continues to normalize LGBTQ characters on his shows: 911 has a main character who is a married lesbian, The Politician has gay characters and its been reported that Rock Hudson will be a character in Hollywood.

So here we are in 2019 and Abby is devastated that the sacred White Christmas will be covered by Darren and Lea on her new Christmas album. First off, why is the song sacred? Abby mentioned the “Bryant Park riot”-a riot we know never happened. The people “holding the fandom together” were not in the cc fandom when Chris and Darren filmed in Bryant Park. Their “memories” of that day have all been created by watching a few moments of the 11-hour day. I’ve come to realize that the cc theory is built on slowed-down gifs and screenshots. Reality looks nothing like cc so they manipulate the facts to fit their needs. It’s a powerful method because it is so easy to con people into believing inane facts. I am sure that Abby and Flowers and Cassie and Leka fully believe everything they hold near and dear about CrissColfer. It’s all a lie but they fully believe they are throwing out tried-and-true proven facts. Abby in particular is really baffled why we can’t see what she see. The difference between them and us is that we don’t listen with our eyes. We don’t get information about Darren and Mia by piecing together gifs. That’s it-gifs and screenshots from videos! Can you imagine if a lawyer a police officer used a gif as evidence?

Nobody set out to con the tinhatters into believing a fantasy that doesn’t exits-in fact, nobody is conning the fandom-they are conning themselves. They don’t look at the evidence and form an opinion- they literally create the evidence. Zoom in a photo until you can crop out what you need or clip 1-2 seconds from a longer video, slow it down, add some text and suddenly *BAM* you have proof! Proof with all the drama and emotion to make it feel so much more important than it was.

How the shit hit the fan:

Leka:

jaci3

I will definitely be purchasing this album! So much talent! Cynthia!! Darren!! Jonathan and Lea!!

notes-from-nowhere

I’m going to take this as a good news👍🏻

ajw720

But no, no, no no. Do not get me wrong, I am thrilled D is on the album, but no, no, no, not a K/laine song. Why? There are so many Christmas songs out in the world and they chose a K/laine song?

I have no interest, it can never live up.

I hate 2019.

DRAMA MUCH?

Thanks, but it’s a hard pass for me.

ajw720

I actually have tears in my eyes. This feels like a complete slap in the face. Sorry, but it is and it should not have been this song and I don’t care what you believe, Those songs are sacred to the K/laine fandom whether you think he is married to her or with C or something completely different.

How many Christmas songs are there to choose from? If she wanted WC, she could have sang it with someone else.

With you @cassie1022 hard pass. It may seem silly to be this upset about something, but this actually makes me angry. I feel like K/laine fans are being discarded. That is his LEGACY, something he should be proud of, through that character and that pairing, he and C made a difference, and I do not understand why it needs to constantly be chipped away.

I have to say the thing that strikes me the most is how obtuse she is about what Glee was the end. It was a mess. I loved Glee but most of the fun by the end was the amazing fanfiction, Fanon Klaine and fandom itself. It was fun to get the song sneak peeks and BTS photos and videos. It was amazing to be a part of a fandom of people who loved what I did. It is amazing to be part of the Chris and Darren stanclub. But Glee...it was a disaster. .

Leka proves some context for “White Christmas is Sacred” and notice how how many are gifs:

leka-1998

Excuse you.

WC is so much more than just a song.

undefined

youtube

(She does know this is a scripted moment right? Darren didn’t actually travel to NYC from Lima with Chris’s dad and someone told him when to skate, what to say, what to sing.).

“It’s been a whirlwind, but amazing. We got to film at the ice skating rink in Bryant Park, which was just incredible. It was one of the best filming experiences I’ve ever had.”

- Ch/ris Col/fer

(Yes, Darren laid down on the carpet and took a picture of Chris which was about the most cc thing that happened in 11 hours)

(I have no doubt that these three gifs were created from 1 or 2 seconds of real-time video. These images created the false impression that they spent the day together, gleefully skating and being intimate. Not too long ago, I read a cc post that claimed “Darren spent the day taking care of Chris”. No, not true- see the videos below for a more realistic representation of the day). )

#truly this really upsets me

(I guess she is reminding us of how much they mean to the world- eye roll.)

I tried finding a long video on YouTube-ideally much of the day or even just big chucks of the day but *surprise* nobody bothered to upload that snooze fest. If the day was actually the cc riot the posse believes it was, there would be an 11-hour complication video.

I did find some video that accurately represents what I remember. Basically just imagine 11 hours of the following:

undefined

youtube

Chris was pretty shaky when they started skating but by the time they filmed, he was much better. I cannot imagine being on skates for 11- shaky- hours.

undefined

youtube

undefined

youtube

Chris skating alone, trying to get more comfortable with skating before filming.

That’s it! That s the totality of what is posted on YouTube from the “Riot”.

The conversation continues;

Anonymous asked:

White Christmas is literally one of the most cliché christmas songs. The album is just Lea's favorites. Darren has sung White Christmas before and he sounded amazing so it's only natural she would invite him to sing it with her. I get the a lot of things can be frustrating, but good god you all being THIS upset about it is the reason why everyone mock our fandom. It's not even baby it's could outside. At least we know for sure chris is going to be mentioned at some point during the promo.

ajw720 answered: (in victim mode)

Why do you care if I am this upset? Seriously, let them mock me, they have blogs dedicated to hating me and posts multiple times a day. I am over it, they are the ones with the sad lives who actually give me power.

(Nope, not dedicated to “hating you”, I simply debunk your “facts” and “proof” beaus they are not evidence of CrissColfer; Yes, this is unfortunately a negative side effect to disproving your lies- you don’t care if the attention is negative or positive- you just like the attention. But pointing out the lies and misinformation is more important to me )

I can be upset, I think it is a complete slap in the face. there are like 3000 christmas songs, there are THREE that are sacred. And yes, D should have sad no. We sit here and swallow everything, including having “D” himself mock and yell at our fandom on SM. And I virtually defend everything he does, probably to a fault, including holding out that person as his wife. This was easily avoidable.

(well at least you acknowledge that Darren calls out your fandom for their bad behavior on social media. Now would be a good time to really analyze why you think that is. Really sit down and think about why Darren would mock your fandom without a gif or a screenshot to zoom in on. What would drive him to be angry at a ccer?) .

Sorry, not sorry, don’t like, post on your own blog and stop reading mine if you don’t like the way i represent. Happy to pace the torch.

(Wow she is happy to pass the torch? Right. )

notes-from-nowhere

(Notes comes in and tries to soothe Abby’s fragile nerves).

So, I feel the need to say something. I’m not that much upset for the song mostly because I think it may be the song D picked out if those presented to him so I don’t fully like the idea but it could have been worse. At least all of the involved knows the meaning of the song.

What bothers me though is this kind of attitude, anon. This urgency to come here and to tell to another person what/how/when she should feel about something. Trying to put a weight on it or to dismissed the rightfulness of her feelings.

If this is how she (and everyone else) feels about this, she has the right and the freedom to say it out loud without having to face someone else’s judgement because maybe she has another opinion.

(and the anon has the right to say what she feels-see how that works?)

There are different ways to approach a person to communicate so please next time, think better.

ajw720

Thank you @notes-from-nowhere, hard to believe, the above was at least more respectful than this anon:

This is why I left the fucking fanbase. I still very much agree with the same views and ideas that all of you have, but jesus christ, it’s a SONG. Calm down. I’m just happy whenever D does something that doesn’t envolve PBB. Getting so upset because D is singing a song that he sang with C. Maybe he’s doing it because it reminds him of the Bryant Park shoot? Maybe? Good god, everything is the apocalypse to you guys. Leaving was the best thing I’ve ever done.

I want to remind everyone, I am the one, with a handful of people, keeping this fandom alive and supporting D&C daily,. And just like i can praise them, i can tell them when they hurt me. This hurt. Maybe I am being overly dramatic and if this was isolated, i would say yes. This is not isolated, it is a continued effort to erase K/laine and CC. As has been pointed out, not only did they offend K/laine fans in general, it is a knock at our fandom who still to this day celebrate the skating riot.

(Oh lord, she reminds us she is the HBIC, sacrificing everything to keep the fandom together. I love that she believes this is “supporting D&C daily”. Nobody needs to be told the suck everyday. She support them and so she can criticize them but nonnie cannot criticize her. That makes perfect sense)

Again literally THOUSANDS of songs to choose from. Not even sure why L would EVER want to compete with C, but in this case, the fault doesn’t lie with her. D should have said no.

(I don’t think Lea is too worried about putting up her vocal chops against Chris’. The both have great voices)

I am not going to say anything else and just accept that yet another of D’s 2019 projects is something i won’t ever see or hear.

(once again it’s all about her and her hurt feelings. But this response is at least rationale-if you don’t like the project- skip it. It isn’t Darren’s responsibly to provide 100% Abby approved content)

I really hope things are going to change, I really, really do.

(But they aren’t..they really aren’t. This is Darren’s life and I know it’s super stressful because you are trying to hard to make his life work with yours and it just won't You both have very conflicting and opposing goals for Darren’s life. Here’s a protip: Go on a gif-free and zoomed-photo-free diet for a few months. Analyze the information at face value. Learn what PR really means and see how things look.If for no other reason than your own sanity. Stop trying to shove the square peg in the round hole

#please do not send any more asks on this topic

#i am very upset

ajw720

My feelings aside, WHY in the world would LM EVER want to compete with this? Sorry, but it won’t be half as good. Stupid move and that is trying to remove my bias.

(Her thought processes never ceases to amaze me. Abby and Trump- they start criticizing and they just can’t stop. Lea gets to make her own decisions about what songs she sings, who she’s competitive with, whether she wants to take a chance and put herself out there or not. It just isn’t anyone else’s business. Chris has a beautiful voice but Lea has a stunning voice-she isn’t worried. This is right up there with her criticisms of TSG’s air conditioning, drink names, theme nights and every comment she’s made about a bar she will never go to.

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tieflng · 5 years

Note

pyre ofc

i’ve already done one for the regular game so Hello, it’s Scribes Time

favorite male character: was incredibly torn on this because like…………..ha’ub exists. just a Chaotic Loyal Little Man. we Cherish An Imp. but also, who am i fooling, i am fooling no one. it’s gol golathanian. i am fooling no one. someone who Cared and wanted to do Right but ended up serving a corrupt and unjust system until it was seemingly too late and then [bird voice] REDEMPTION ARC (heavenly chorus) !! also secretly a Large Softy. also i am incredibly gay and knight/liege is so GOOD.

favorite female character: molten fucking milithe! you’ve persuaded me to love one (1) feral bog-dwelling lesbian scientist because like, milithe who is incredibly Chaotic Neutral but has a pr Problem and just seems Chaotic Evil? but who is secretly a little lonely and comes to cherish her friends? who Also cherish her even if she sounds Like That? that’s good, actually! also she has cortex in the brain that makes you sound like a mad scientist and that’s very fun

least favorite character: if i’m being honest…………underking ores. i just don’t have any Thoughts on him and also…………………he seems a little boring, and a little bit maybe like a jerk. we do eventually need to work out what we think about him though. but like. eh.

favorite ship: goliam !! goliam goliam Goliam !! the knight/liege aspects are so so [chef kiss] and the drama is so JUICY and the arc we’ve kind of worked out for them of like. mutual unrequited pining to enemies to friends to lovers is very good. but also………they grew as individuals and became better people in the downside, and in doing so they were finally able to establish a truly loving relationship. and that’s. i mean that’s true romance, you know? knight/liege is good but requited affection on an equal footing that grows out of it is best.

favorite friendship: god the. the All of them? the All Of Them?

triesta and gol expecting to bitterly hate each other for coming from opposite sides of an imperialist war and then finding a sibling they didn’t know they had

milithe and gol revising their opinions of each other from “stupid sword-waving human” and “weirdo who pretends to have powers” and respecting their different competencies, also bonding over both having Cortext That Makes You Rude

ha’ub feeling kinship with milithe’s pursuit of the ‘unknown & unknowable’ read: milithe teaching him Science Ways and it’s the learning to be spiderman meme. they go looking for cool bugs in flagging hands while everyone else is depressed as fuck

jomuer and ores being Chaotic Fools and getting into increasingly wild scrapes, but also having each others’ backs so they always get out of them safely again, too

soliam in the early downside is on critical levels of Rat Brain (brain full of angry rats) but lu is a slow moving tree man, and talking to him puts the brakes on rat brain and forces him to slow down and verbalize and so dbt was accidentally invented

milithe and lu sclorian as Maximum Scientist Hours, ha’ub as the first person who showed soliam kindness for himself instead of for being the emperor, triesta and lu as philosophy gays asking the deep questions about life and meaning, gol and ha’ub as partners in keeping soliam’s dumb ass alive, the first triumvirate (gol/soliam/ha’ub) as just fucking fambly, ha’ub/milithe/jomuer as Downside’s Most Feral,

so th All of Them??

Scribes Is About Friendships, Baby!

favorite quote: “he said: ‘you gave your freedom, master golathanian, so that i may yet have mine.’

‘you, too, now are an exile of the downside. in all the days which i have left, i never could repay the mercy you have shown me. so, if i cannot do so in this life, then I shall do it in the next.'”

not to sound gay but those two paragraphs invented love

worst character death: i think the first time one of the scribes died (i think we said ores) would be……….incredibly sad. they Ascended/became stars after they died but while they were alive they didn’t Know that. so they’re faced with the realization that the gang has broken up for the first time, and they’re all going to get old and die, as people do, and………..gradually lose their found family, lose the tangible proof that their adventures actually happened, make the triumvirates go on without them, watch the rites and the brand new commonwealth succeed or fail on their own merits. and they missed their friend :( it was a rough time for them all

this made me so happy you have no idea moment: i really like so many of our discussed scribes/nightwings parallels, the mere Idea of scribes/nightwings parallels makes me happy. the one i’m feeling right now is that thing where bertrude always pretends to thinks hedwyn is hitting on her. but gol and milithe can you Imagine. like MA’AM you’re THREE HUNDRED and i’m GAY and also the man i love is right here and he thinks this is hilarious

saddest moment: the scribes looking down from the stars realizing that their commonwealth has been corrupted from their original dream :((((

favorite location: man i already said the isle of khaylmer, also they never went there. still tied between the ridge of gol (Bad Ass) and the summit of mount alodiel, because come on, listen to this part of the greater titans chapter of the book of rites:

“finally, the Eight of us, we climbed atop the brow of old sung-gries. we merged our strength, and struck the mortal blow, such that the archbeast shattered finally to pieces!”

incredibly anime and i fucking Love it. where’s my eight scribes animated series PLEASE they are literally shounen protagonists !!

#pyre #this got SO LONG but it's because i LOVE SCRIBES #tumblr user jodaaariel / tumblr user tieflng solidarity handshake ....

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pellicano-sanguino · 6 years

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I was recently made aware of the fact that there's a freaking Dragonlance musical (yes, made all the way back in 2014, I'm late on the news). It's uploaded to Youtube in full (according to them, it's uploaded with the permission of the creators) and with subtitles (it's a Russian production).

I went in expecting it to be just as badly made and cringeworthy as the animated movie, and I was motivated to watch it purely by nostalgic feelings about the books (they were the first fantasy books I read) and general interest in musical theater. But turns out I... actually liked it??? Not in a so-bad-it's-good kind of way, I genuinely found it enjoyable. What an unexpected turn of events.

Heh. Quality subtitles.

Disclaimer: It's been ages since read the books, so if I remember something wrong, feel free to correct me.

Now, this is not the next Phantom or Elisabeth or anything like that. This seems to be a rather small production. The props and effect are minimalistic and cheap, looking more like a bunch of larpers than actors (not saying larpers can't have great props, I used to larp myself when I was younger). The singing carries the story, there is very little spoken dialogue and the actors don't dance. We do get a bunch of background dancers, who at first seem really out of place crawling on the floor while the main actors just stand there and sing.

I'm also going to point out that the Dragonlance books are not the easiest or most obvious choice for a story to be adapted into a musical. These books have long, complicated plots that often arch over several books and have a whole bunch of characters. Also, being able to open the vast world and history of Krynn to an audience who may not have read a single book is challenging. Not gonna lie, I am unsure how much someone without any prior knowledge of the series will get out of this show. They do plot explaining surprisingly well but there are plenty of times where you're going to be a bit confused if you don't know the backstory.

The musical's name is The Last Trial, and it's (somewhat loosely) based on the Legends-series, describing the rise and fall of the dark wizard Raistlin Majere, who is probably the most popular Dragonlance character ever. Well, it's a wise choice, since you can tell this story with a slightly smaller cast and don't have to prop dragons. However, I question one thing. You're really going to make a musical about Raistlin? One of his trademark characteristics is his failing health, his violent, chronic cough, resulting in a creepy, raspy voice. And this is the guy you're gonna make sing.

More quality subtitles.

Oh yeah, and another thing I'm going to have to question. Are we really making this a love story? I mean, yeah, I get that all that happens between Raistlin and Crysania does also happen in the books, but I never saw any kind of romance between them. All I saw was a heartless bastard manipulating the feelings of a sensitive and naive woman. The impression I got of Raistlin from the books was a person who's asexual, aromantic and hates everyone (and who's not handsome by any standards, but rather creepy looking, especially his eyes). Not a romantic hero at all. But hey, I can kinda understand the appeal (after all, I do like such musicals as Phantom and Elisabeth, so I can totally see why a cruel and cold character gets all the fangirls; everybody likes bad boys).

The musical opens with a short introduction of this story's Greek Choir-character, Astinus. Astinus is tasked with recording the history of Krynn so he makes a good plot exposition role. I recall there being some hints that he might not be fully mortal. After the intro, stage lights reveal a violin player, who begins to play the musical's theme. The violin player stands out a little, since she's wearing modern clothes despite the story being set in a medieval-ish world. But I got to admit, the music is very, very nice, with a rather calm melody that fits the setting of a magical world of fantasy very well. This could easily be soundtrack for a fantasy movie. The beautiful music is what made me like this show.

Speaking of music, it's time for the main character to deliver the show's first song. Despite rolling my eyes at the thought of Raistlin singing with his ruined voice earlier, I have to admit, they chose the actor really well. There are at least two castings (maybe even more) of this show, and the one I saw, had Evgeny Ergorov playing Raistlin. His voice is very pleasant to listen and it carries hints of ambition, arrogance and of a powerful will that is calm and calculating but under its seeming calmness also very dangerous. I am surprised how quickly I accepted the fact that Raistlin can sing and that instead of having a voice that mirrors his suffering he has a voice that mirrors his might. The lyrics being in Russian helps, being sung in a language I don't speak a word of makes everything sound more magical and poetic. There is certain lyrical beauty to Russian and it fits the songs perfectly (obviously, since the songs were written to be sang in this language).

If we handwave the fact that Evgeny is way too pretty to be playing Raistlin (I'm presuming he's not that bad looking by het standards here, as a lesbian I'm not really the person to be judging male beauty), he looks the part and gets nicely into character. He has Raistlin's prematurely grayed hair, black robes and the staff with a glowing gem held by dragon claws. The musical goes out of its way to disrobe him, though, probably as a fanservice thing (robes really don't let you see his body well...). In the books I don't recall him ever wearing anything else, the mages in Dragonlance wore their robes everywhere like uniforms. Oh well, if wizards can prance around in muggle clothes in the Harry Potter movies, we can do the same here.

Evgeny has a rather strong stage presence. His eyes, while not as creepy as in the books, cast a very cold and powerful gaze, judging everything with distaste and cynicism but never underestimating anything in his arrogance. This Raistlin is full of pride but not blinded or hindered by it. The only trademark part of his character that I consider to be missing is his failing physical health, that creates an opposite to his powerful mind and allows him to manipulate people by using the compassion they feel when seeing a sick, suffering man. Many more prideful men would be insulted when offered help and proclaim that they can take care of themself, but Raistlin never does this; he relies on the help of others whenever it's convenient and never considers such a thing to be below the world's greatest wizard.

Astinus appears again and explains the next song number to the audience. In the war preceding the events in this show, Raistlin fought with a bunch of other heroes to defeat a dark dragon goddess called Takhisis, the primordial source of evil in the Dragonlance pantheon of gods. According to the musical, Raistlin's role was to work as a double agent – he swore an oath to Takhisis and became her servant only to stab her in the back so she could be sealed away in Abyss. It's been ages since I read the books, so I can't tell if this is how it really went. My faint memories claim it wasn't quite like that, but this is what the musical tells us so let's just go with it. Takhisis, the highest ranking of all the evil gods, is trapped in Abyss, but she still plots her escape and bears grudge to Raistlin. She can't enter the world of mortals in the waking world, but she can appear in their dreams.

Like evil, Takhisis takes many faces aside from her iconic multiheaded dragon queen form. She invades Raistlin's dreams in the form of the Dark Lady and torments him with nightmares and ominous predictions that he'll one day be her servant again and open the gate of her prison. In this version, Takhisis is played by Vera Zoodena. And wow. Just... wow.

Her Dark Majesty can easily be interpreted as a kinda succubus-like, sexy and seductive femme fatale (because god forbid we have evil female characters who aren't overly sexualized...). This kind of role is very easy to overdo and instead of intimidating and charismatic turn out to be just... cheesy and slutty. But Vera Zoodena knows that a revealing outfit and sexy posing isn't all you need for a powerful female villain. Yes, she is very much directed as seductive, but instead of making me feel like someone made her wear that costume and ordered her to pose like that, I feel that she is in complete control of everything. Vera's stage presence is amazing. Femme fatales rarely have any effect on me (well, they are usually geared towards a male audience anyway) but this Takhisis makes chills run down my spine when she sings. Her voice is so haunting and sexy, I can feel her fingers tipped with deadly claws menacingly caress my skin by just listening to it. (I'm sorry. I promise to keep the TMI to a minimum. But I'm totally hot and bothered for Takhisis.).

Raistlin's nightmares are interrupted by his twinbrother Caramon, who intuitively knows his brother is suffering and rushes to wake him up. Raistlin thanks Caramon for driving away the unwanted dreams, but remains distant. Caramon then begins to sing, advising Raistlin to give up his ambitious plan, which he now reveals to the audience; Raistlin intends to descend into Abyss and challenge Takhisis, ascending to godhood himself if he manages to defeat the goddess. We have fought our wars, says Caramon, the Dark Lady is safely locked away in Abyss and the world needs heroes no more. Well, that's easy for you to say, you're not the one getting your dreams invaded.

Let's talk about Caramon a little. He is supposed to be the opposite of his twin; physically strong but mentally not the brightest, a handsome fellow with a big heart that overflows with kindness towards his friends and family. No ambition, no selfish arrogance guiding his actions, all he longs for is a simple, comfortable life and he cares deeply about the wellbeing of his loved ones. Compare that to Raistlin, who cares not about the feelings of others, uses people as stepping stones to reach his own selfish goals and in his pride desires always more power; when he has become the most powerful wizard in the mortal world even that is not enough, he needs to challenge the gods.

While I do think the actors in this musical do a pretty decent job mostly, I have to say I'm a little disappointed in Andrei Loboshov playing Caramon. His acting is a bit wooden occasionally and he comes off as comically dumb sometimes (I mean yeah, Caramon wasn't the sharpest sword in the weapon rack but still). Also his voice is kinda mediocre compared to others. This is Caramon, he is supposed to be charming and lovable. And handsome. Again, I know I'm not the right person to judge male beauty, but compare this guy to the one playing Raistlin (who is supposed to be the ugly twin). Like, come on.

Raistlin refuses Caramon's offer of simple living. He points out that as a creepy weirdo he will never belong anywhere and will never be as accepted by others like someone normal like Caramon is. He is determined to seek godhood, and abandons his brother's company while making plans how to reach his ambitious goal. He receives a letter that informs him that a priestess of Paladine (the highest ranking of the good gods, adversary of Takhisis) called Crysania seeks to meet him. Fate seems to smile upon the dark wizard, for a priestess of Paladine is exactly what he needs for his plan...

So. Crysania. I have... mixed feelings about this character. On one hand, I admire the sincerety of her character, her genuine kindness (she is the priestess of the greatest of the good gods after all) and her determination to attempt to do the right thing. And yet she is doomed to betray her god out of her love for a heartless man. Stories about a pure maiden who falls in love with a cursed prince are numerous and the appeal of such stories is clear. However, Beauty and the Beast this is not. My main problem with Crysania is this: I fucking feel bad for what happens to her! She is dumb and naive and thoroughly amai and a very good example of what happens when a woman tries to ”cure” or ”save” a cruel man. It's not even her own fault because Raistlin manipulates the fuck out of her (and even if it were purely because of her own stupidity, victim blaming is bullshit so there!). I just want to rush in there and swoop her in my arms and give Raistlin the middlefinger like NO, you do not deserve the love of this woman, you do not get to use her for your ridiculous ego-inflating power fantasy plans, farewell and up yours!

When I read the books, I imagined Crysania looking unearthily beautiful, like a Greek statue come to life, and having an aura of holiness and piety in her voice. Here she is played by Elena Minina and damn, she is amazing. I don't know how they managed to find someone who so much resembles the official artwork of the character. I find her beauty stunning (just my opinion, there are probably a ton of people who consider her mediocre) and her voice is incredible. It's so clear, like the singing of birds and the sounds of running water on a stream, like silver bells tied to a dancer's ankle. I don't know how to describe it. I know nothing of opera or other top quality singing but I could easily imagine Elena being a truly professional singer. And this is really what made me fall in love with this show; the songs and the amazing singers delivering them.

Raistlin and Crysania meet in the city of Palanthas and have a little talk. Crysania reveals to the black mage that her god Paladine is aware of his plans and does not approve. She attempts to convince him to abandon his plan, not just for the good of mankind and the cosmic balance (the proper balance of good and evil is very important in Dragonlance pantheon) but for his own sake. Repent before it's too late and save yourself! Knowing that this is a chess piece he very much needs, Raistlin immediately goes into manipulation mode and starts to suggest things to Crysania. Oh, you came to me just as a messenger of your god? What if I told you he sent you to me for different reasons – to help me. He proceeds to flatter Crysania, praising her faith and purity (maybe to suggest that someone like her couldn't commit anything unholy, and thus can help him without fear of angering her god) and plants the idea to her head that light and dark mages aren't so black and white, and that sometimes dark magic is necessary to reach a noble cause.

Crysania listens and admits that Raistlin makes many good points but still she advises him to give up his plan. At this moment Raistlin has a coughing fit (the only time we see the fragility of his body in the musical) and Crysania's heart is immediately melted by compassion and she offers her help (as a priestess of Paladine she has healing powers). Raistlin accepts her healing magic but refuses her plea to bring him to the temple to be treated properly there, since even Paladine's clerics can't cure the curse that ruined his body. But appealing to her compassion works for his advantage, as did letting her get close and touch him (it's like he knows she's going to fall in love with him and attempts to bond with her to make it happen.). He insists on leaving but invites Crysania to meet him at the Tower of High Sorcery if she wants to speak with him more. Once she's alone, Crysania sings about how she understands that her fate is tied to this mysterious man who she used to think of as an enemy but is fast growing more fond and respecting of. She feels sorry for him and wants to save him so badly. Let the fire burn my hands, I will endure it or die trying. Meanwhile, I'm here whispering ”don't do it” under my breath. This is a very pretty song.

Astinus steps once more on stage. Crysania asks him how does Raistlin think he can break open the gate of Abyss. Astinus reveals that the gates of Abyss were locked so that they could only be opened by a black mage and a light priest working together (which the gods thought would be unthinkable, apparently, since that would be bringing together two sworn enemies). Crysania understands now what Raistlin had in mind for her. So, he thinks I'm going to be his key. Despite knowing this, she still wants to see him to learn more and asks how to find her way to the Tower of High Sorcery. Astinus tells her that the road there goes through the Grove of the Dead, making it a very perilous journey. Crysania considers this a test of courage set upon her by Raistlin and declares that she will go there.

Next we visit a charming little place called the Inn of the Last Home. The inn is run by Tika, Caramon's wife and she merrily spends time with the customers who sing and dance the night away. Tika is played by Irina Kruglova and it's a shame she has such a small role, since she has a lovely voice.

Back during the war Tika was one of the heroes and fought just as well as everyone else, but now has settled down since just like Caramon she longed for a peaceful, adventure-free life.

When I saw this character, I got worried. It looks like it might be a kender. Good grief, the goddamn kender are the worst thing Dragonlance universe came up with. * shudders* Back in my larp days there was a universally known unwritten rule among gamemasters: no more than one kender per ten other characters. Everyone obeyed this rule and good for them. I never got to play one, but a friend of mine did. She crawled under the tables and stole everyone's shoelaces.

The joyful tune is disturbed when Crysania comes in and asks if anyone can show her to the Grove of the Dead. Tika tries to convince her not to seek the Grove, explaining that wizards enchanted the forest so that non-magic users couldn't find a way to their tower.

The guests agree with Tika, no one knows what the Grove hides, for the Grove never returns its dead. Crysania is still determined, if no one comes to be her guide, she goes alone. The guests and Tika then come up with an idea to have Caramon go along to keep her safe. No one else dares to go there, but Caramon is a true war hero.

Unfortunately this is the exact moment Caramon enters the inn, drunk as a lord and holding a letter he wrote to Raistlin. Look, Raistlin sent my letter back unopened, and even wrote on top of it ”I have no brother.” The separation of the twins was hard for Caramon and he started to drink his depression away, becoming less like a hero and more like pathetic drunk every day. He sings a sad, drunken, wailing song about how this letter hurt him so deeply.

They are stealing his axe - they are kender! Out! Throw them out!

Crysania rolls eyes at such a guardian, baffled that the intelligent and well mannered Raistlin could have such a disgraceful twin and she goes forth on her own. Tika then shames Caramon for being such a wreck and giving everything up so easily like the opposite of Rick Astley and sends him after the priestess. Your brother messed with her head, now it's your job to get her back safely! Reluctantly Caramon goes, not thrilled to be back on the adventuring business.

The background dancers felt out of place earlier, but in the Grove of the Dead they fit in perfectly, creating an ominous atmosphere. These living shadows creep up to Crysania, who faces them without fear and sends them back with the power of faith. She's prevented from proceeding any further when she comes face to face with an undead warrior named Lord Soth.

In the books, the death knight was sent to assassinate Crysania by Raistlin's sister Kitiara, to prevent the opening of the gates of Abyss. Lord Soth failed in his attempt, Crysania didn't die but she was wounded. Kitiara doesn't appear in this musical, and we don't actually see Lord Soth wounding Crysania. Instead he just poses dramatically and seems to scare Crysania and Caramon from approaching the Tower. He and the rest of the shadows are sent away by Raistlin, who appears to sing a new song.

The song is all about how names have power. It's a very fitting song for a mage, but kinda out of place. I guess it implies that by the power of knowing the name and origin of the creatures of the Grove he can send them away and allow the travellers to reach the Tower. But it looks like he's singing it to Crysania, which makes no sense. Also, what is he doing there? He should be far gone by now, time travelling to the past (yes, this story involves time travelling, a kind of magic that I've always thought way too powerful to exist, since if you have the power to go back in time, wouldn't you be able to keep trying a thing over and over again until you reach a timeline where you're successful? Way too convenient for my taste in magic.).

In the Tower of High Sorcery the Conclave of Mages is holding a meeting re: what to do with Raistlin. There are the white robed light mages and the black robed dark mages, but where are the neutral red ones? Balance of power is important in Dragonlance lore, and besides the forces of good and evil there existed the middle path that was kinda allowed to do whatever they wanted because they held loyalty to neither side. They could have easily put some red mages in the background here, so I wonder why they didn't (local prop department only had white and black robes?).

The conclave calls forth Dalamar, an elf who was spying Raistlin for the Conclave while being his apprentice in dark sorcery. Dalamar reveals all that he knows of Raistlin's plans; that his teacher has time travelled to the city of Istar to look for the gate to Abyss and to learn from another dark wizard who lived there at the time. By doing so Raistlin has apparently broken some union laws the Conclave held and they are disgusted with this (I told you time travelling should be banned!). But then they decide to send Crysania back in time to Istar too, for whatever reason. In the book it was because she was injured and needed a level of healing only the clerics of Paladine back in Istar's days of greatness could offer. But here it's a bit unclear, since we don't see Crysania get wounded and the Conclave never mentions any reasons behind their decision to send her time travelling. Maybe they were just as naive as her and thought she could stop him. Crysania tells them she intends to prevent Raistlin from opening the gates of Abyss and they just... seem to go with it.

Dalamar and Par-Salian (leader of the Conclave) high five at their decision. Classy wizards are these.

One nice detail they kept are Dalamar's scars. You can see them on his chest. Raistlin wasn't born yesterday, he knew damn well that Dalamar was spying him and to show him that he knows, he burned the elf's chest with his fingertips like branding a calf. Just so you know, I'm on to your scheme and could dispose of you any time I want, I just don't think of you as a threat and don't care if the Conclave finds out because they won't be able to stop me. In the books Dalamar had a bizarre habit of flashing his scars to people. Look at what he did to me! No, stop, put your robes back on, nobody wants to see that, you kinky biscuit!

While the background people are working on propping Istar (mainly just covering everything in white), Dalamar sings a short song that reveals that he actually sends Crysania back in time because he is loyal to his teacher. Whatever you say, Dalamar. Whatever. Anyway, we have travelled back in time to Istar now. Everything and everyone is white and shiny and full of faith. Crysania is awestuck at the beauty of the city and the grandness of faith. Istar is a theocratic city state, and we also meet the guy who runs the city, known as the Kingpriest.

Good god, Alexi Tolstorkorov who plays the Kingpriest has the perfect voice for the role. It's a powerful, booming and majestic voice, making him sound like a charismatic cult leader when he preaches his truth. His voice demands respect and acknowledgment of his authority. Alexi is also rather tall, which makes him look properly intimidating. And considering they probably didn't have much of a budget, they propped him rather decently. Very good Kingpriest, 10/10.

Kingpriest. Dude. You’re saying that to a blind person!

Crysania finds Raistlin among the crowd (disguised as a cleric, because he's smart enough not to prance around in his black robes here) and informs him that Caramon got sent back with her as well but they got separated in the crowd. Raistlin didn't expect his brother to join Crysania in her attempt to stop him, but accepts this new turn of events and is already figuring out how to use it to his advantage. Raistlin tells her that he has already located the gates of Abyss here and soon they will open them together. I was expecting Crysania to tell him she has no such intentions, but here she just seems to... be too distracted by Wow such great city! Very pure! Much faith! Which is... awkward. Because this is fucking Istar, in the past. Crysania should know what happens to this city. Like, did they not teach history in whatever school priests of Paladine go to? Apparently they did not and it is up to Raistlin to open Crysania's eyes and reveal the ugly truth to the audience.

Raistlin sings a song about the corruption of Istar, how the priests are drunk with power and use it in manners that should be blasphemous to do in the name of good gods. Not only is magic and the worship of evil and neutral gods forbidden, some of the good gods are banned too and there's racism (I wholeheartedly cheer at the guards jailing kender, though.) and all other disgusting misuses of religion as justification for evil. The city if full of narcisstic men who put their own words in the mouth of god and present it as truth. It's interesting that Weis and Hickman came up with Istar, since Hickman is a devout mormon, so you'd think he's not the kind of person to present a theocracy as a corrupt cult. Anyway, Raistlin uses this moment to again cultivate in Crysania the belief that light and dark are not the same as good and evil. If priests of Paladine can be capable of such wickedness, then logic follows that a black mage can seek a noble cause. Maybe I'm not your enemy, aren't the ones who betrayed your god while claiming to serve him much more deserving to be your enemies? I only seek to rid the world of the source of all evil, while they seek to tear the whole world apart in their crusade against even the smallest shadow.

And then Crysania goes and confronts her fellow priests and the Kingpriest himself like the dumb shit she is, accusing them of their false faith and questioning their authority. Like good grief Crys, how fucking amai can you be?! Did you really think that one woman marching in front of a cultist leader and his brainwashed minions could make them see the light and better their ways by just shaming them? Like oh no, she is giving us the shounen anime protagonist Convincing Shouting treatment and telling us to give up our corrupt religion that benefits us greatly, whatever shall we do? Tell her she's right and that we are ashamed of ourselves for not noticing earlier? Or how about... we just burn her at the stake for heresy?

Seriously Crysania, did you stop for two seconds to consider what could go wrong with your master plan? Anyway, it's a very nice song between Crysania and the Kingpriest. It also shows Crysania's budding doubts about her faith. She is disgusted that she had to have this revealed to her by an enemy, that her brothers and sisters who she is supposed to trust were holding an ugly secret from her.

So, Crysania is held captive at the temple for heresy. Raistlin doesn't seem particularly concerned with this. Having Crysania doubt her faith works for his plan. Caramon gets imprisoned too, after asking people if they've seen his brother, who's a mage. Use of magic being forbidden, even family members of mages get thrown in jail. There Caramon sings a song how he trusts that his brother will soon come save him. It's sad to see Caramon projecting his own family loyalty to his brother who has never helped anyone if it wasn't relevant to his interests. You poor man, still blind to the truth that your brother can't be redeemed.

In the book Caramon was made to fight in a gladiator arena with other prisoners. This musical also makes him fight, but frames it differently. Here the Kingpriest arranges the fights to find the best warrior to be the Chosen One to deliver world of evil or something along those lines. Disguised as a cleric Raistlin declares Caramon as a volunteer to fight. He is brought to the arena but refuses to pick up his sword, because it's one thing to fight in a war and for self defence but this is just slaughter for the amusement of others and he wants nothing to do with it.

I like how when Caramon refuses to fight, his opponent strikes this seductive pose. Fight me, my love, you know you want to...

The Kingpriest is not pleased for Caramon's refusal. Raistlin explains to him that the man is an honorable knight (yeah sure) who cares not for his own life but will defend the life of another. He suggests that they bring Crysania to the arena. The Kingpriest agrees to this, and Caramon immediately picks up his sword to protect the lady. The fight is fierce and has surprisingly many real swordplay techniques used (I usually expect very little realism from stage swordfights). Yes there's still lots of unreasonable things like turning your back to your enemy and coming way too close during the close combat (you come to a distance I can punch you, you will get pommel to the face) but this is still one of the best stage swordfights I've seen. It's also unusually fast, more often stage fencing uses slower, wider strikes to make it easier to follow the fight. Here, I noticed many of the techniques used only when I was taking screenshots, they happen so fast.

I didn’t even notice this block by grabbing blade at first viewing.

Oh, this looks like a throw! Are they really going to do a throw?

Apparently yes.

I have to tip my hat to the guy who plays Purple Fake Dreads here. He is agile!

He is fierce!

He is bouncy!

Fly away, Purple Fake Dreads!

I especially like the move where he places his foot on Caramon's leg and steps up on it to kick him in the groin.

Go, go, Purple Fake Dreads!

Caramon, who fought more carefully and defensively than his aggressive and impatient opponent, wins the fight, and the Kingpriest grants him and Crysania their freedom as a reward. The citizens of Istar then begin a mass with the Kingpriest, and the chanting gets more and more ominous until everything goes red. The event known as Cataclysm happens.

Angered by the corruption and arrogance of the Kingpriest, the gods threw a fiery mountain down on Istar, sinking the city to the bottom of the sea, changing the landscape and geography of Krynn permanently. Raistlin, Caramon and Crysania escape the divine wrath by time travelling again, to a timeline little after the Cataclysm. This they do offscreen.

Having witnessed the destruction of Istar, Crysania grieves for the innocent lives struck down for the crimes of a few. Her faith weakens once more. Her god doesn't answer to her call, so Raistlin asks her to follow him, which she does. After all, he is the one who showed her the truth and hasn't lied to her, and for that she respects him. She still believes that her fate is tied to the dark wizard, but she is beginning to doubt if her role ever was to help him see the light and not the other way around.

Istar being at the bottom of the sea now, Raistlin can no longer use the gates in there, much to his annoyance. However, there is a second Gate hidden in Zhaman fortress, in a well guarded dwarf kingdom. The black mage needs to find a way to get inside, and simple knowledge of history tells him how to do it.

Caramon comes to his brother, demanding to know why he betrayed him and made him fight in the arena instead of helping him escape. After listening to this for a while, Raistlin tells him that he's being an idiot; arranging for him to get chosen to fight in the arena was his plan to get him out from jail. You got yourself arrested out of stupidity, getting you to be chosen as the one to fight wasn't easy either, you know. So don't come to me claiming I didn't help you and Crysania to get your freedom so we could all escape together instead of leaving you behind to go down with the rest of Istar!

Okay, I get it, Caramon admits. But I'm still done with all of this and I'm going back home! Oh really, Raistlin comments, what a shame, I could have used your help. It hurts me to see the change in Caramon as soon as Raistlin says that, because the dumb man doesn't understand that he's just being manipulated. Caramon is so desperate for any sign of brotherly love from his twin that as soon as Raistlin hints that he could help him, he's ready to do anything. Of course I will help you in any way I can, my dear brother! You poor man, you poor faithful dog wagging your tail no matter how many times your master mistreats you.

What Raistlin has in mind for Caramon is war. Around this time in history, there was a war waged against the dwarf kingdom. Raistlin intends to make history repeat itself, and he needs Caramon to lead the army. What army, it's just the three of us, asks Caramon. And then Raistlin begins to sing, while the background dancers begin what looks like a yoga session. Raistlin is a good speaker and manipulator, he easily convinces warriors to join their attack to Zhaman fortress. Knowing history helps him, for he knows what kind of people went into this war and what their motivations were. Little by little they gather quite an army to march into war. Caramon questions if what they are doing is the right thing and that they are lying to people to lure them into an unnecessary war. Raistlin convinces him the war is inevitable, and Caramon, too eager to please his brother, turns a blind eye to the unethicalness of it all.

While Caramon is working his hardest to earn them an entry to the gates, Raistlin focuses on working his mindgames with Crysania. He needs to get her to agree to go along with his plan. So he attempts to use her compassion, and sings to her a sad song about his childhood, colouring everything a little to make himself look more like a sympathetic victim of forces beyond his control. He claims to have began learning magic purely for self defence, being bullied as kid, and then goes on to claim that magic is an addiction that can't be fought once you've tried it. He also very clearly has become aware of Crysania falling in love with him and fans those flames as best he can, being all gentlemanly and nice to her even if he's a jerk when he's with his brother. This is one thing that people don't get about abusive people; they are perfectly capable of playing nice when it's beneficial to them and just because someone is ”such a nice guy” doesn't mean they can't be monsters.

Crysania is smart enough to call bullshit on Raistlin claiming to have always been an enemy to Takhisis, pointing out that he did fight on her side during the past war. But Raistlin pulls the ”It was all according to my plan, so I could betray her”-card out of his sleeve. I'm a traitor to both sides and both good and evil look forward to my funerals. Pity poor me who attempted to do what was right but ended up being unfairly hated by everyone. Well, Crysania buys it all, poor woman. They get closer and closer and looks like they are about to kiss...

But no kissels. Excited Caramon arrives to bring news that Zhaman has been conquered. Crysania leaves the men alone, and Caramon sings a happy song about how much glory he has gained in these battles and thanks Raistlin for making him the leader of the army, giving his life meaning and saving him from being a useless, depressed drunk.

Raistlin is initially annoyed that his alone time with Crysania was interrupted, but knowledge that he now has access to the gates he so desires to open puts him in a good mood and he joins Caramon in the victory celebrations. At some point it even looks like he... smiles a little... and not sarcastically. Who is this stranger and what have you done with the real Raistlin?

Now all Raistlin needs is to make sure Crysania will follow him to the gates. At night, when they are alone again he begins to sing a romantic song for her, posing sexily while he gazes at the starry sky, and she joins the song. By now she is completely and utterly in love with him and filled with joy when suggested that the feelings might be mutual.

Raistlin does an excellent job at seducing her considering he has no prior experience in romance whatsoever. He often takes Crysania's hand while they walk but never makes any more forward moves himself, allowing her to be the one who initiates their first kiss.

Except this time too they are interrupted before the kiss can happen. This time by peeping tom Takhisis making her nightly visit to Raistlin's mind and being all Oh my, things are getting juicy in here, wait until I get my popcorn! Raistlin is startled, looks away and tells Crysania to get out. This is the first time Raistlin's behaved like that in front of her, so she's frightened that by making that first move crossed his line and angered him. She runs away, brokenhearted.

Raistlin is left alone with Takhisis, who in her turn tries to play mindgames. She suggests to Raistlin that maybe he wasn't encouraging Crysania's love just because it was convenient for his plan, maybe he too is falling in love.

Raistlin is horrified of such a thought but compliments her Dark Majesty for pointing out his weakness so he can make sure to overcome it. I made her fall in love with me, using her weakness of compassion and pity against her, surely I am above falling into my own trap! Well, regardless of how her love was born, comments Takhisis, your feelings are genuine – don't you want to keep her? Love is stronger than you are, puny mortal, it would overcome you.

Love brings no happiness, only suffering, sings Raistlin. Look at Crysania, who was so fearless, yet now is afraid, made so weak by her love. I must not return a false love, not fall for a creation of my own making. And so he fights to resists the basic human urge, the need to be loved, considering it a dangerous weakness. Without love I can't be hurt. I won't let my feelings hinder me, my brother is nothing but a sword for me and Crysania is nothing but a key. Love will break and weaken any ruler.

Nothing matters more than love, whispers Takhisis (rather uncharacteristic for the goddess of evil to spout such sappy fortune cookie aforisms). No, power is much more dear to me, answers Raistlin, but he is a complete emotional mess after fighting his feelings and can just tiredly beg for the Dark Lady to leave him alone.

Caramon, while unable to hear Takhisis, heard everything Raistlin said and his heart breaks when he finally learns that his brother doesn't love him. So it was all lies, I meant nothing to you? Or maybe I knew this all along and was lying to myself. When Caramon says he's leaving, Raistlin calls out to him, weak and exhausted after chasing Takhisis out of his mind. And even now, after hearing the truth, Caramon hesitates only a moment before coming to Raistlin's side, making sure he's alright. He even takes off his cape to cover the sleepy wizard warmly.

Kind people are unable to ignore a call for help, even when uttered by someone they know wouldn't return the favor, because for kind people there is no such thing as ”someone who doesn't deserve help.” I still want to kick Raistlin for being such a dick, though. While watching Raistlin sleep, Caramon sings a sad song about how he misses the lost happiness and innocence of their childhood.

The next song is very painful. It's Crysania basically slutshaming herself. Instead of recognizing that her broken heart is the result of Raistlin's mindfuckery, she blames herself. And more alarmingly, she makes a decision to change. By now she is as desperate for Raistlin recognizing her worth as Caramon was for any sign of brotherly love. It hurts me to see her like this, because it reminds me too much of real women who end up trying to change to better please their male lovers. This is what has become of her – the fearless lady who went forth to save a wicked man and prevent him from going through a horrible plan has turned into a blind minion of said man, willing to do whatever he wants. Raistlin has corrupted Crysania, broken her in an incredibly vile way. Instead of leaving the cruel man, she is finally convinced to aid him in opening the gates to Abyss. In her despair to be deemed worthy, Crysania decides to do the one thing Raistlin has always been asking of her, even if that means going against her god's will. At one point in the song it looks like she's talking to Paladine (kinda looking skyward) and saying something along the lines of ”I expect you to condemn what I'm about to do.” And so she betrayed her god and went down to Abyss for the sake of love.

Into the Abyss they go, singing a triumphant song together. They went with music forth to battle, not knowing what horrors lie beyond the gates. Crysania is made fearless by her faith, but not the faith she had for her god but her faith in Raistlin's might, sincerely believing it to be powerful enough to defeat a great goddess. Raistlin is made fearless by his trust in himself.

Not too long after passing the gates, they are welcomed by her Dark Majesty herself. Takhisis is aware of Raistlin's plan to kill her, but she pretends not to know. She congratulates Raistlin for opening the gates for her like a good little minion and offers him a place at the foot of her throne. Either she is being sarcastic, or she is attempting to avoid the fight with intimidation tactics, allowing Raistlin a peaceful way out if he chickens now that he is actually face to face with a powerful goddess.

Look at those four women standing beside her Dark Majesty. I didn't get it at the first viewing, but look at them; different colours, wearing a crown decorated with dragon horns – they are the rest of her five necks! The iconic fiveheaded dragon queen form does appear in the musical, cleverly interpreted!

Intimidation tactic seems to be working, Raistlin looks hesitant for a while, but Crysania turns his head so he can't see the Dark Lady and instead looks her in the eyes and this seems to break the fear instilled in Raistlin after so many nightmares. Time for mindgames and backstabbing is over, Raistlin steps up and voices his intentions loud and clear, challenging the goddess of evil.

This is the first time we see Takhisis express anger, now that all pretense has been thrown to the wind. You can almost see her breathe fire as she gives the INSOLENT MORTAL I WILL BREAK YOU IN HALF!-speech. She then summons her minions to fight for her. Including some weird glowstick-lightsaber wielding guys. They didn't have the budget to prop actual horrors from beyond, so they got creative. I think Takhisis should have summoned a bunch of her evil dragons. No matter how incredibly powerful your wizard is, if a flock of red dragons appears, he is toast. Delicious magical toast.

In the next song Takhisis sings about how great her powers are, with a big emphasis on the fact that she can take countless forms. One great way they show this is the actress playing Crysania also joining the song as clearly a Crysania-shaped incarnation of the Dark Lady. She has been tormenting Raistlin with nightmares and goes to work with his fears and darker memories again. It is fascinating that Crysania seems to be one of the things he fears, but that is probably because of his fear of falling in love and therefore becoming vulnerable.

You know, seeing Takhisis and Crysania together and hearing their beautiful voices simultaneously, makes me want to ship them. I know it's a ridiculous crackpairing, Crysania would deem it blasphemous and Takhisis would be like ”She's not as good as Mina.” But hey, if Crysania is ready to betray her god, why not go all out and fall in love with her god's literal rival? Like how deliciously angsty would that get? I'm sorry, this is stupid. Actually, no, I'm not sorry. Because you know what, I can't go to any show's fandom without seeing a fuckton of male/male ships of characters who hate each other in canon/are sworn enemies, so I should not have to be ashamed for blushing at the thought of femslashing Crys and Taksu. The ship may be full of holes but I will sail it!

More random minions. The background dancers just really, really wanted to show off their cool fedoras and scarves, no matter how unfit they are in a fantasy setting.

The next foe Raistlin faces is a succubus. She unfortunately lacks the charisma of Vera Zoodena and comes off as trying too much. I'm sorry, but whatever she's trying, it just doesn't work. Raistlin seems nervous though, and shouts to her ”Don't touch me!” Oh, the bookworm nerd doesn't like me, eh, says the succubus, I'll just pick his brother then. And she goes to snuggle with Caramon's doppelganger. This is a rather interesting scene, because there's a book that tells about the twins' childhood and apparently there was an incident where a girl initially showed intered towards little Raistlin and got his hopes up and then crushed them by deciding to go for the handsome twin instead. So, yeah, Raistlin has brother issues, and of course Takhisis uses them against him.

Time for more childhood trauma. Takhisis summons the images of the kids who bullied Raistlin when he was little. As someone who still occasionally has nightmares of my own bullies, I have to admit I feel sorry for him here. The cruelty of children can wound a person very deeply. The creatures make Raistlin retreat, tearing open wounds he thought had scarred permanently long ago. Anxious and unable to fight his fears, Raistlin falls on his knees and, much like in his childhood, instinctively cries Caramon for help. But his brother is not here to protect him, to chase away the bullies and watch over his sleep so he can wake him up from nightmares.

Now that Takhisis has Raistlin exhausted and crawling on the ground, she appears to him in the disguise of his mother. She calls for Raistlin, and the wizard reacts to the familiar voice, rushing towards her but stopping midway when he finally gets a grip of reality, that these are all shadows summoned by Takhisis and nothing more. Once Takhisis realizes her game is discovered, she drops the pretense and appears as herself, casting her dark spells on Raistlin, pulling him closer. Eventually all of his strength is consumed and he collapses, fallen victim to the Dark Lady's power.

Crysania to the rescue! Having been separated from Raistlin in the darkness of the Abyss, she finally finds him and immediately puts her healing powers to work. Takhisis tells her she is too late, death has claimed the wizard. I will not give him to you, Crysania exclaims, continuing to revive the man she loves. If needed, she is willing to give her own life in exchange of his. Takhisis speaks to Crysania, telling her that even she feels sorry for her, but a flame always leaves its mark. And then, just as life is returning Raistlin's body, the Dark Lady blinds Crysania's eyes.

And now we get to the most painful scene in the show. Blinded Crysania seeks Raistlin's hand and tells him that they have defeated darkness (What?! How? When? The last I checked, Takhisis seemed to be alive and well. I don't get it.). My eyes can see light no more and I am wounded, but your path to godhood is open now. And then Raistlin answers... that I don't need you anymore. I... I... fuck... Crysania begs him to stay with her, to hold her hand. She was ready to give her life for you! All she wants is for you to hold her hand! I don't cry often when reading books but I remember sobbing all the way through this horrible ending.

Singing arrogantly, Raistlin leaves Crysania behind, blind and wounded, all alone in the darkness of the Abyss. I did what was necessary to reach my goal. The gates were sealed cleverly but with the help of a fool's love I opened them. I don't need you anymore. The price of love in exchange of becoming a god is not too high.

Takhisis speaks to Crysania again, and it's clear now that when she said earlier that she feels sorry for Crysania, it wasn't because of her grief over Raistlin's death, but because she wasn't aware of being used.

Taksu, please, can you not. (Why is everyone in this musical such a dick to blind people?)

Crysania sings a sad song about the senselessness of cruelty and my heart breaks for her. After devoting her life to a man who abandoned her to die alone in the dark, the inside of her chest is pitch black and a void deeper than Abyss where her heart used to be. A final song of grief echoes among the shadows. The Dark Lady's minions dance with Crysania, surprisingly calmly considering they are creatures of evil. Even Takhisis herself holds her in her arms for a while (please kiss her. I know you're not the goddess of death but please. Just kiss her.). Eventually she collapses at the foot of her Dark Majesty's throne and ends her song. The only thing I can do is close my eyes before this void and wait for someone to push. And that's the image we leave Crysania with. A betrayed, blind woman standing on a cliff's edge, waiting for the moment she has to fall down.

Astinus appears again and tells what happened next. Raistlin went on to challenge all of the gods until he was the only one left. However, he did not possess the gods' ability to create. In his war against the gods he had left the mortal world in ruin, and now as the only god of Krynn, he could not repair it. The mortal world had become as desolate, dark and lifeless as the Abyss.

Now, in the books this is not what happens. It's what could happen, but Raistlin gets shown this grim future and that scares him to finally give up his ambitious plan. However he had already opened the gates and entered Abyss, so he chose to remain there and prevent Takhisis from coming through the gates until they had been properly closed behind him. Some versions of the musical also apparently have this ending. However, I prefer this one, where Raistlin reaches that future and has to for all eternity bear the heavy burden of being the one who brought forward the end of the world, all alone in the darkness, the only remaining witness to the devastating results of his actions. I think an ending where we allow him the chance to correct his errors and sacrifice his life nobly for the sake of preventing Takhisis from entering Krynn, is cheaper and doesn't give proper emphasis on the fact that actions have consequenses and often, even in stories involving time travel, once you've made a mistake, you cannot undo it! I prefer stories with the moral ”Don't do this, once you do it there's no going back” than ”Don't do this but if you do, there's always a second chance if you're ready to make some sacrifices.” I know this is fantasy, but in real life, there often aren't second chances. You can only break a fragile thing once. You can only lose someone's trust once.

We get one final song, Lord of Nothing, and it's a great song number. For whatever reason Takhisis sings it with Raistlin, despite the fact that she should be long since defeated in this timeline. Maybe she will forever live on in Raistlin's mind, a fragment of his imagination formed from the memory of nightmares. I don't know, but I don't even care, Vera Zoodena has such a great voice that she can raise Takhisis from the dead any time she wants.

One reason I love this song is that it's basically the Dark Lady vigorously rubbing salt on Raistlin's wounds. Yeah, you wanted this, you wanted this so bad, well look at your kingdom now, oh great Lord of Nothing! As she sings the background dancers gradually take away all of the props, including Raistlin's staff and his robes and then disappear offstage, leaving him standing there alone on the empty stage. It is very satisfying to hear Raistlin sing in anxious manner, desperately trying to lie to himself that he can still fix this, oh please don't let me be left alone in the void. The last one to leave is Astinus. He gives Raistlin his quill and scroll of history before disappearing.

I liked this show and was amazed how nicely it adapted the original material. It's very different to the kind of musical theater I usually watch (Takarazuka). But even a smaller production, with a very small prop budget and actors who sing well but don't dance at all, can be as entertaining as a big, colourful spectacle.

There's been some translating projects going on. Maybe some day there might be an English version done.

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#dragonlance #the last trial

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acoolguyscoollife · 5 years

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Chapter 1: (Non)Humble Beginnings

Cool Guy

I used to take stuff in my life way too seriously. Had one of those dramatic pasts that everyone is used to in life. But then I decided to throw all that away, grab a cool-ass moniker and just chill, so that’s pretty much where my life is now. And since you probably have gathered from the subtitle to the chapter, I’m Cool Guy. Real name doesn’t matter. Most people call me CG, so I guess that’s what you should call me too. Now I bet you’re thinking to yourself well this is a tad confusing, he knows I’m reading a book about him! And you’d be pretty much right. Well, kinda. I didn’t know as these things were happening that I’d eventually end up being in a position where writing this would make sense. So now you’re probably wondering what actually happened. What is the “cool life” this “Cool Guy” led? Well, to sum it up in a few sentences… I’d have to say that it was not much. Well, it was your average cross-dimensional, reality bending, ancient prophecy fare. With romance subplots out the ass. And if you think that’s cool, wait until we get to the time travelling lesbian couple, one from my day and one from the distant future! Best part is she may be my daughter; we’ve got no freaking idea! Life’s fun when you stop giving a shit, more people should try it. Of course, I’m getting ahead of myself slightly. I’ve already introduced myself but I should introduce the three other people who’ll be telling this story as it goes on. I should also dial back on mentioning things that from your perspective haven’t happened yet. Anyway, first off is Amy Frays. She was raised by her older brother and her slightly-less-older-but-still-older brother, the latter of which is an okay guy. Amy and I go way back, she was one of the people that knew me before my name became what it is now. She still called me CG though, since my old name also had those initials. Kinda. Sorta. It’s complicated. Anyway, moving swiftly on to my only male friend, Seth Allen. Truth be told I never actually asked about his home life because it just wasn’t the sort of thing we’d discuss. We just spoke in dated movie references and video-game lingo for a while, and it was a pretty fun time. By the time we’d gotten to the point in our friendship where we should have known about this stuff, neither of us wanted to ask because it just didn’t matter. That’s just the sort of friends we were. And finally, the weirdest of the bunch, Tabitha Williams. I only ended up meeting her because Amy introduced me, a childhood friend of hers that I’d never met. She was always busy with some kind of apprentice program where she would work under some sciencey dude. But despite all the nerd stuff she was pretty cool to hang out with. When we actually saw her. But that wasn’t often and I kinda felt as if I wasn’t as close to her as my other friends. So when this entire story started by her sending me a letter (of all things) telling me to come to this weird lab on the outskirts of the town and to bring Amy and Seth, you would understand that I was a little unsure. I mean, I didn’t even know how she found my address. But, I think I’d probably be better off switching to a different kind of narration now.

The letter smelled faintly like parchment, and was actually sealed with wax, so even though I had no idea who it was from, I had an inkling. Tabitha was always quite eccentric with stuff, and I felt like she was going to be the one writing it. After slicing my finger slightly with the letter opener, I was able to get into the letter and open it up. Sure enough, matching the parchment and the wax seal, it was written with ink. Most likely a feather quill too, knowing her. I had to squint to actually figure out what was written, cursive not being my strong suit.

CG.

I’ve got something cool to show you. I’m at the gated-off facility by Fifth Street. Bring Amy and Seth.

Also, bring snacks.

-T. Williams

The letter was confusing, to say the least. I didn’t even know Fifth Street was a place, it sounded made up until I checked it on the map app. I also wasn’t sure why she didn’t contact Seth herself, because I felt like the two of them were pretty close. I know one time they both got shitfaced and sung the entirety of Love Is An Open Door from Frozen. I also know that afterwards Seth ended up falling out of a window, spraining his ankle and swearing off booze. And then promptly started drinking again a week later. The part about snacks made sense though, as thin as Tabitha was she ate a surprising amount of sugary foods, reminding me of a character from an anime I watched a while back. A quick group text (that I included Tabitha in as a passive-aggressive show of how easier it could have been than sending me a letter) later, I was walking with Seth and Amy to the lab. Well, no one actually called it a lab but it was kind of obvious what it was. A building a sciencey person works in is unofficially a lab even if you think otherwise, it’s just how the world works. When we arrived, the first noticeable thing was how high the gates were and yet how flimsy the material was. A simple chainlink fence that could easily be cut through, with a gate in it that had a lot more of a sturdy look. Stepping up to it, a voice popped out of an intercom with a technical thing on it that I wouldn’t be able to fathom the purpose of at all.

“Put your face to the scanner.” The voice said, quickly recognisable as Tabitha’s. I put my face to the technical thing I could only assume was the scanner, however not taking off the sunglasses I always wore. Amy and Seth attempted to put their faces next to mine, but before it could get awkward and slightly homoerotic, the gate clicked and opened up, allowing us to move into the facility’s borders. The outside of the building was mostly grey, nothing noteworthy on the outside, but the actual span of the building was surprisingly large. Concrete paths were adorned with grass, just enough to grow flowers but it was evident no one had been attending to them for a while, as they were overgrown and an eyesore. As our footsteps rhythmically echoed around the quiet outdoor area, I tried to come up with some lyrics to go along with the percussive beat we were making. Tap-Tap-Tap, Tap-Tap-Tap, each of us putting one foot down almost immediately after the other, leaving a gap in-between as we moved our other foot around. Before the words that would have been the next chart-topper came to me, Amy threw my out of my thoughts by choosing this time to ask the question that had been on everyone’s minds and should have really been asked sooner.

“Where in the hell are we?” Glancing over at her, she was craning her neck to look everywhere as we continued down the path. We still had a good ways to walk, so Seth and I had plenty of time to respond and answer her question thoroughly and to the best of our knowledge.

“Don’t know.” Seth said, mirroring what I was going to say. All we really knew is that this is where Tabitha spent a lot of her time, probably too much time. None of us had seen her in person for about eight months. A cold wind blew across the path, a stereotypical sign of worrying thoughts as we made our way forward. Pulling my jacket tighter against my body, I was thankful to see we had finally reached the alcove that bore a door into this building. As if I couldn’t feel slightly creeped out enough, the doors opened by themselves as we got close to them. Stepping inside, we were greeted by a stark white corridor, surfaces cold to the touch and bearing numerous doors that led off into other rooms.

“Just go straight ahead and make a turn down the green corridor.” Said the voice of Tabitha from above, making me think for a second that God had finally decided to award my coolness by giving me guidance.

“Turn down for what.” Amy muttered under her breath, then giggled at her own dumb joke. I considered rolling my eyes but I knew she wouldn’t be able to see it anyway because of the glasses so why bother.

The room we ended up in was large, which was saying something considering that I’d seen so many large things since entering the lab that large stuff just seemed normal. A computer was across an entire wall, with various technical parts that I couldn’t make heads or tails of, a recurring theme since I had walked in here. Stood in front of the machine itself was Tabitha, in an outfit very different to what I was used to. Her long, brown hair, instead of being tied up in a bun like normal, was splayed across her shoulders and down her back, significantly longer than it had been the last time I had seen her. Her glasses were held together by tape, and her lab coat- a new addition to her style since I had seen her last- was torn, with burn marks and holes in it. Comparing that to my own leather jacket/jeans combo, or Amy’s light tank-top and pants, or Seth’s v-neck and cargo pants, it was both out of place and very haphazardly thrown together.

“Uh…” was all I could say, unsure of anything else to say.

“You look…” Amy continued, as speechless at her look as I was.

“Awesome!” Seth finished, quite contrary to what I was thinking, which was closer to explosion victim. He practically pounced on her and the two tightly hugged, making me feel both relief that I wasn’t the target of this over-affection and also slightly disappointed because the hug looked quite nice to be honest. As if sensing my thoughts, Amy nudged herself over slightly closer to me and jokingly offered a hug. I only wish I could have seen her face as I accepted the hug, quickly pulling away before the other two saw us because that would have been embarrassing to explain. I’m a man, damn it. I don’t do hugs. “Where have you been, anyway?” Seth asked, having pulled out of the hug with her.

“I’ve been… oh my god, so busy. So… god damn… busy.” Tabitha responded, spacing her words out for emphasis. “I have so much stuff to tell you guys but like… it’s all so complicated.” She waved her hands around to prove this, which did nothing but make me question her sanity. Seeing that no one was really acknowledging her, she pushed a button on the computer, which quickly whirred to life, flashing BIOS that I barely had time to read before opening a black screen that awaited commands. A hand beckoned us over, before she turned around and stooped over the keyboard, her fingers quickly turning into a blur as she wrote line after line of code, making me regret not paying attention when my teacher had tried to teach me C# all those years ago when I was in CompSci. A few presses of the enter key brought up GUI after GUI, as she tapped more stuff into it that I didn’t understand. Eventually the flurry of typing stopped and she stood upright, turning back around to face us. “Okay, let’s start with the basics. I haven’t had human contact in about… well, eight months, since you saw me last I guess. My mentor… well, I’ll get to that later.” Tabitha expositioned, as if she knew that one day I was going to start writing my memoirs. Or as if she knew that none of us had any idea what the hell was going on. “Since then I’ve been working on something huge, something that, if put into the right hands, will revolutionise the world. If it goes into the wrong hands… well, it’s just going to be used for random shit just for fun. However, even though you three are quite obviously the wrong hands, I need your help to do this.” Tabitha pressed a key, and a machine whirred to life, producing several person-sized tables out of the ground with VR helmet-like things built into them. “I have created a machine, that, if a person is connected to it properly, can create simulated worlds that could mirror our own in terms of scale and interactivity.” She said, puffing her chest outwards pridefully. I glanced to the other two, who were taking in this revelation just as I was. This big of a revelation, such a large scope, deserved only one response.

“Bullshit.”

#Cool Guy #Story #Writing #A Cool Guy's Cool Life #Creative Writing #Part 1

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padfootagain · 6 years

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For the music event!!!

Submitted by @amysandiago :

I am so excited about the music event! As a Chinese, I often want to recommend songs to people from other countries, but they probably aren’t interested because they don’t know the language. These may not be the best songs ever, but they are songs that I like and are familiar with, and I will provide a little context so people aren’t just hearing jumble of sounds lol.

小日子 (Little days) by Joey Yung: Joey Yung has been one of the most famous singers in HK for years now, and she was the first celebrity that I actually cared about lol. (Forgive me, this playlist has many of her songs in it oops.) This song is about a couple living simply and peacefully, without needing to show off their love to others, or be rich or important etc. Imagine a royal!AU fanfic where someone abdicates to marry the person they love instead of following through with an arranged marriage, and they go off to run a little flower shop together. Very soft and very lovely.

搜神記 (something about looking for a god?) by Joey Yung: This song is actually quite feminist. It is about a woman realising that she has placed too much emphasis on her (male) lover, and that she has neglected the beauty of the world and herself in the process. In the end, she decides to walk away from all that and puts herself first. In the end, she finds the god in herself rather than in others.

損友 (Bad friend) by Joey Yung: Joey is actually famous for her sad love songs, so I have to include at least one lol. This is about how the singer is in love with a player (bad friend isn’t exactly apt, but I am sure google translate did its best. Maybe friend who is an unhealthy influence?). She chooses to be with him as a platonic friend instead, as a friendship is more secured than a short-term fling that can end at any moment.

黃色大門 (The Yellow Door) by Joey Yung and 紅屋頂 (The Red Roof) by Denise Ho: The Yellow Door is a song about the singer’s fantastical world, featuring angels, dinosaurs and gardens behind wardrobes, that she escapes to from the harsh real world. The best I can describe it is as a theme song for Pisces, and I love how whimsical it is. The Red Roof is along the same vein, about the singer holding up a red roof, a whimsical and imaginary world where people, especially outcasts are welcomed and loved. I put these songs together because some people have theorised that the songs are about closeted gay people in HK, and rumours of a romantic relationship between Joey and Denise added weight to the theory. Neither of them ever confirmed their relationship, and Joey had never made any statement regarding her sexuality AFAIK. But Denise came out as gay back in 2012, and she has been a LGBT activist since then.

勞斯．萊斯 (Rolls & Royce) by Denise Ho: This leads very nicely to another song by Denise. Two guys fall in love under the proximity of studying in the same school, but they do not end up together due to society pressure and homophobia. In the end, the singer says that there will be no change in the society unless people come out as who they are. I didn’t appreciate the beauty of that song until I realised that I am bi. And it is very brave for Denise to publish a song as explicitly gay as that one, seven+ years before she came out formally, as Asia is on the whole much more conservative.

人海中遇見你 (Meeting you among the crowd) by Johnny Yin: Another happy love song. It is mainly about how lucky the singer feels that he can encounter the love of his life among a mass of people, and how he cannot wait to share everything with them and hopes that it would always feel like home where they are. It is a popular song in weddings, as you can imagine. xD

突然好想你 (Suddenly Missing You) by Lala Hsu (originally sung by MayDay, not to be confused with MayDay Parade): Another fairly famous song. I personally like the cover better than the original. The sadness is more subtle in this one, laced with a bit of exhaustion if that makes sense. It is about how the singer is scared of suddenly hearing about her ex out of the blue after losing contact for a long time, knowing that it will bring back pain and hurtful memories. She also wonders about them, where they are now and how they are doing. I bet many people can relate to that.

我不願讓你一個人 (I won’t let you be lonely) by MayDay: Yay for lyrics! It is an angsty song about a man who still worries about his SO’s wellbeing after they have broken up. He prepares extra clothes for them when it’s cold and asks for their opinion out of reflex even though they have moved out. He doesn’t want them to be lonely and face the harsh world alone and wishes that they will find their happy ending one day.

給自己的情書 (A love letter to myself) by Faye Wong: I like to listen to this song when I feel down and need a soothing pick-me-up that isn’t power rock&roll lol. The song basically advises people to love and care for themselves, and their love will shelter them from the rain like a tree, even if they have no one but themselves to rely on.

缺口 (Gap/notch) by Harlem Yu: The English translation isn’t perfect, but here you go. Just a simple love song about who people who complement each other despite their differences. I also recommend the movie this song is from. It is called Café. Waiting. Love. It is a rom com and features a super hot lesbian barrista who regrettably, isn’t the main. :P

童话 (Fairy Tale) by Michael Wong: Eng subs! The singer wants to be an angel from a fairy tale, ad protect his lover and gives them a happy ending. I remember the international students singing this during mealtimes even though they didn’t know a nick of mandarin lol. But the lyrics are repetitive, so they got the hang of it. xD I will always remember the song fondly because of that.

下一站天后 (Next station Tin Hau) by Twins: Tin Hau is actually an underground station in HK, but it can also mean a famous female singer or celebrity. Even when the singers are about to become huge singers, it would mean nothing without the people love most there listening to them. And all the fame and adoring fans pale in comparison to the prospect of singing softly to their lover in their home. (I probably love domestic love songs way too much…)

小酒窝 (Dimples) by JJ Lin and Charlene Choi: Another love song with eng subs! Two people fall in love gradually, their favourite facial features of each other are their dimples and long lashes. Cute and soft. All fluff. :D

手紙～拝啓十五の君へ (Letters to my 15-year-old self) by Angela Aki: Another motivating song. It is not in my native language, but it is too beautiful not to be included. Even when your dream is hard to reach, and you want to give up, or you feel lost and tired and sad, it is important to just keep going. I also recommend this cover, and bonus: it has English lyrics lol which everyone should read because it is motivating and sincere and touching and I love this song.

浮生盡(????) instrumental cover by 鍾嘉鳳: GuZheng is a Chinese instrument that I personally feel is especially suitable for playing sad love songs like this one. The sounds are truly beautiful so I have to include at least one GuZheng piece!

Secrets track 22 by Jay Chou: A lovely piano piece from a Taiwanese (?) movie called Secrets.

My Tamako, My Sookee (soundtrack from Korean movie The Handmaiden): People probably know about this already but I love this piece of music so much I have to mention it lol.

Fate of Us (soundtrack from Japanese movie Tomorrow I Will Date With Yesterday’s You): Another instrumental track. It would sound more heart wrenching once you have watched the movie. Yes, you should definitely watch it but make sure to avoid spoilers cause there’s a big twist coming.

Smother and Youth, both by Daughter: People can probably find this so I am not going to link. Sometimes I just want to wallow in sadness and no amount of happy songs will get me out of that. This is when I turn to these songs, and basically the whole album lmao. There is something soothing about listening to songs that seem to understand what you are going through.

Sounds like Somewhere by Lily and Madeleine: Another happier song. This, combined with track 9, 14 and The Yellow Door from 4 are my stables for getting out of a sad mood haha.

I am sorry this is so long and I am so rambly. But I do get so excited when people are interested in Chinese music lol. Hope you enjoy. :)

Thank you so much for your rec-list! I’m so happy to discover some Chinese songs, all these singers have such beautiful voices!! Joey Yung’s songs are so gorgeous! Thank you as well for the comments on each song! Thank you for taking the time to do this!!

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florencetheflowerfairy · 6 years

Text

Battle for Meiko’s Heart!!!

Pairing: Meiko x Mimi

Word count: ~2,900

Battle for Meiko’s Heart!!!

Meiko stopped walking so she could take a better look at the flyer on the wall. There was a new club for ballroom dancing that was meeting this Wednesday. The idea of joining a dance club made Meiko smile. She loved drawing and painting, but she had always been wary of the performing arts at her old school. However, after meeting Mimi, she realized that she actually liked dancing. It felt liberating.

She wondered if she could ask Mimi to join the club with her. Then they could dance together all the time. They could perform in competitions and wear fun outfits. Mimi would look especially beautiful. Meiko rocked on her feet, imagining what it would be like to be graceful, and to be holding Mimi’s waist…

“Hey,” a deep voice interrupted her musings. Meiko squeaked and turned around.

It was Taichi. He was leaning against the locker next to her. He grinned when she saw him and Meiko melted a little. Taichi’s enormous smile was infectious. And it felt special that he was smiling for her.

“Do you like dancing?” Taichi asked.

“Uhh…” Meiko cleared her throat. “Y-yes!”

“There’s a new club in Shibuya called the Maine Coon. It made me think of you!” His voice was so damn friendly. “Koushirou said he’d make me Fake IDs to get in. And I absolutely trust Koushirou, so there wouldn’t be any problem.”

“Oh-oh! My goodness!” Meiko’s voice sounded annoyingly squeaky to her ears.

“Can I take you there this Saturday?” Taichi asked.

THUNK

Taichi and Meiko both blinked and turned around. Koushirou had hit his head against the locker on the opposite side of the hallway. He mumbled “Ow” and went back to collecting his books, grumbling and refusing to look behind him.

Taichi bit his lip and looked wistfully at his friend, but he was all smiles when he met Meiko’s eyes again. “What do you say?”

Meiko considered. She liked Taichi a lot. He was kind. And handsome. No boy had ever paid her this much attention. So there was only one acceptable answer.

“Y—”

“YOOHOO!” A high voice interrupted Meiko’s response.

Meiko smiled and turned around. Mimi was strutting down the hallway straight towards her. She had changed out of her school uniform into a little pink dress that sparkled with sequins. And she was carrying a large tray in her hands, where there was—

“A cake?” Taichi raised his eyebrows.

Mimi stopped in front of Meiko and held out the cake to her. The lettering on the frosting read, Will you be my girlfriend?

“Meimei!” Mimi sung. Her voice was always captivating. She started speaking very fast. “So back in the United States, there’s this thing called Prom at the end of high school, where students get to ask their crushes to go with them to a big dance party, and they have to ask in the most over-the-top dramatic way possible. Tragically, I’m not going to Prom in Japan! But you know what? We can do something even better! There’s a lesbian bar on the other end of Tokyo called Green Thumb. And I just got Miyako to make the two of us Fake IDs! So we can go out dancing like mature adult ladies! What do you say? Will you go out with me?”

“Mimi!” Meiko blushed and giggled. Butterflies filled her stomach. She could hardly think when there were rainbows filling up her brain, making her feel like she could float. “Aaahhh…” Her tongue got stuck.

“Oh do say yes! I’ve been practicing a song for you if you do!” Mimi said.

“Ahem—” Taichi cleared his throat.

“No boys allowed!” Mimi shook her finger at him.

“Um…” Meiko finally found words. “You see, it’s just that, he asked me out first…”

“WHAT?!” Mimi yelled.

“She was about to say yes,” Taichi said.

“Were you?” Mimi demanded.

“I-I…” Meiko panicked. “I thought—I mean—I just—I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings!” She no longer felt like she could float. Her two most attractive friends both looked angry and it was frightening her. She realized that she could easily mess up and lose them both.

“What’s going on?” Sora suddenly appeared in her tennis uniform, looking very windswept. She held Meiko’s shoulder protectively. “Taichi, are you bothering her?” she asked.

“No!” Taichi said defensively. “I just asked her out, and then Mimi interrupted—”

“I asked her out better,” Mimi said. “I made her a cake! And I’m going to sing ‘Come What May’ from Moulin Rouge, the most romantic movie in history. What did you make her, you lazy bum?”

“What, like I need anything more than these?” Taichi flexed his biceps.

“That’s enough, you two!” Sora snapped. “You’re both being ridiculous.”

“But she—”

“But he—”

“Stop putting pressure on her,” Sora said.

“They’re not putting pressure on me…” Meiko weakly defended them.

“No—Sora is right. I’m sorry,” Taichi said.

Mimi’s face flushed. “I’m sorry too!”

“Meiko, it’s your own choice,” Taichi continued. He smiled winningly.

Mimi bit her lip. “But if she picks you, it’s just because you’re a—you’re a—” Mimi stopped talking. It wasn’t like Mimi to look so nervous. The sight broke Meiko’s heart.

“I…” Meiko floundered.

Then Koushirou popped his head in the circle, staring at Meiko with wide, curious eyes. “Which one will you pick?” he asked.

“Um…”

“Because I think the choice is rather obvious,” Koushirou said. He grinned and tapped Taichi’s arm. Taichi blinked like a confused puppy. Koushirou poked him more insistently, and then Taichi flexed his arm again. Koushirou reached up to squeeze his bicep. He talked like the world’s best hype-man who also delivered exposition on the regular. “He’s mature. He’s your age. He’ll listen to you when you want to talk about the atomic structure of Cobalt at three in the morning.”

“I would never bother you about Cobalt at three in the morning!” Mimi said to Meiko.

“Or whatever nightly topics of romantic conversation that normal people talk about. He’ll listen to that too. He’s versatile,” Koushirou continued. “And if you’re looking for a dance partner…well! You couldn’t find a better one than Yagami Taichi.”

“That’s right,” Taichi agreed. He suddenly gripped Koushirou’s wrist and twirled him around.

“Ah!” Koushirou gasped as his friend spun him in circles, grabbed his waist, and dipped him so that his head was inches above the ground. Koushirou held onto Taichi’s neck so that he wouldn’t fall over and stuck one awkward leg in the air. He laughed as if he was happy.

Taichi laughed too. Then he quickly pulled Koushirou back to his feet and dusted him off, as if he’d somehow gotten his friend dirty. He leaned one elbow on Koushirou’s shoulder and grinned at Meiko confidently.

It was an impressive feat, but Meiko felt like she was getting mixed messages from him.

“Boys…” Sora looked exasperated.

“I can dance too!” Mimi insisted. “There’s only one proper way to settle this! I challenge you to a battle of Dance Dance Revolution!” She pointed at Taichi and jammed her finger in his chest.

Taichi chuckled. “Are you serious?”

“I’m always serious,” Mimi answered.

“That doesn’t settle anything!” Sora said. “Meiko, you don’t have to listen to these two airheads.”

“No, I…” Meiko tried to find the courage to speak honestly. It was difficult with everyone’s eyes on her. Then the bell rang.

“You don’t have to decide right away,” Taichi said gently. “In the meantime…I’ll meet you at the arcade after school,” he said to Mimi.

“No, I’ll meet you in the arcade after school!” Mimi said authoritatively.

Taichi shrugged and smirked. He turned on his heel and walked away.

As soon as he left, Koushirou buckled over and snorted in laughter.

“What’s so funny, you traitor?” Mimi asked.

“You are aware of the fact that Taichi is the champion of DDR, correct? That he has the highest score in the arcade?” Koushirou wheezed.

“That graceless oaf? Ha! I don’t believe it,” Mimi said.

Sora sighed. “It’s true. We were at the arcade last weekend and I couldn’t beat him.”

“Wait—what?! He beat you?” Mimi suddenly looked alarmed.

“He also wiped the floor with me,” Koushirou added admiringly. Mimi stuck out her tongue at him.

“Um, Mimi?” Meiko said. Mimi quickly looked away from Koushirou and stood up straighter, trying to look more mature. She still had the cake in her arms, and she looked so pretty that Meiko could cry. But Meiko tried to compose herself. “You don’t have to do this,” she said.

Mimi forced a smile. “Don’t worry about me, Meimei! I’m going to win! Promise me that you’ll come watch me win?”

“O-of course.”

“Excellent,” Mimi purred. Then her eyes widened. “OH!” She suddenly thrust the cake into Koushirou’s arms—he yelped and grabbed it clumsily—and then she threw her hands in the air and fell backwards. Meiko gasped.

Sora grabbed Mimi’s shoulders before she hit the floor and held her up. “Mimi! Do you feel okay?” she asked.

“Yes…yes!” Mimi said dramatically. “But I feel very faint…I think that I shall have to go to the nurse’s office…Will you carry me there?”

Sora shut her eyes and counted to ten before answering. “I’ll walk you to the nurse’s.”

“Thank you!” Mimi chirped. Then she reached out to Meiko, and Meiko held her hand. Mimi pulled her closer and whispered, “I’m getting out of school so I can practice Dance Dance Revolution at the arcade all day! So there’s no way I’ll lose!” She winked.

Meiko’s heart fluttered. “O-okay. Good luck!” she said and patted her hand.

“You know, you really should have challenged Taichi to a singing contest,” Koushirou said.

“Oh shut up,” Mimi grumbled. “Protect my cake for me, will you? It’s for Meiko and me when we go on our date!”

“Okay,” Koushirou said dully, resigned to carry the tray around all day.

“I’m sorry about this…” Meiko said. She wished that she was confident like Mimi was. Why was it so hard to just say ‘Yes’ or ‘No’?

“Don’t worry! See you after school!” Mimi replied. Then Sora pulled her to her feet and the two girls walked away.

Meiko buried her face in her hands, thinking about Mimi and Taichi. What’s a girl to do?

At the Arcade!!!

Meiko entered the arcade with Sora and Koushirou by her side. She had never been here before. (Koushirou was still carrying the cake, which Meiko didn’t feel like she could morally eat yet.) Sora led them through the various video games and a row of pinball machines. They finally arrived at the Dance Dance Revolution station in the corner. Meiko saw that Mimi was already there, bouncing on the platform. She immediately smiled. “Mimi!” she called.

Mimi whipped her head around and saw her friends. “Hellooooo!” she yelled and waved. Mimi lost points for getting distracted, but Meiko didn’t notice that. She did see that Mimi looked particularly fabulous up there. She was wearing a green halter top, black leggings, and a lacy skirt. She had tied her hair up in a high pony tail with a large green bow. Her makeup was flawless and her nails were each painted with flowers. Mimi leaned over the bar of the DDR machine and elegantly popped one foot in the air. Meiko was enchanted.

“You look wonderful,” Meiko said breathlessly.

Mimi giggled. “Thank you!”

“Did you just get your nails done?” Sora asked, impressed.

“Yes!” Mimi answered. “I got a manicure, a haircut, and I went to the mall for some brand new dancing clothes! This outfit screams Winner!”

Koushirou raised an eyebrow. “I thought that you left school early so that you could practice DDR,” he said.

Mimi blushed. “I have been practicing! …For a half-hour…”

“What? Mimi!” Meiko looked alarmed.

Mimi reached over and stroked Meiko’s cheek. “Don’t worry. I’m more confident when I’m wearing the right clothes! I was hoping you would like them! And I can do anything as long as you’re here to cheer me on,” she said.

“Oh Mimi…” Meiko felt guilty for somehow inspiring this mess, but she loved the way Mimi’s hand felt on her face. “I…”

“Your king has arrived!” a deep voice interrupted them. Meiko would know that voice anywhere. She saw Taichi jump onto the dancing platform next to Mimi and he smiled that infectious smile. Meiko smiled back nervously and pulled away from Mimi.

Sora mouthed “King? Honestly,” in a disapproving tone of voice, although there was a smile tugging her lips. Koushirou stood up straighter.

Mimi scowled at her competitor. “Nice of you to show up,” she said.

“Nice to see you too, Princess,” he replied. He waved behind her. “Hi Meiko! You feeling all right?”

“H-hi Taichi! I’m fine,” she answered, blushing at the attention.

Sora cleared her throat. “Right. I’m going to remind everyone that Meiko doesn’t have to go on a date with either of you if she feels uncomfortable.”

“Of course not,” Taichi said.

“Of course not!” Mimi repeated in a loud voice.

“This is just about our egos,” Taichi continued cheerfully.

“This is personal,” Mimi insisted.

“Are you ready?” Taichi asked.

“I was born ready!”

“We can start on an easy level—”

“HA!” Mimi pushed the button to select a difficult level, and the music started playing. Taichi scrambled into place and the two of them started dancing on the arrow tiles.

“Good luck!” Meiko cheered from the side.

Mimi spun around and waved at Meiko, losing several points in the process. “Thank you!”

“Ah! Pay attention to the screen!” Meiko yelled.

“Oopsy daisy!” Mimi blushed and turned back to the video.

Taichi won that round. Koushirou applauded. Meiko clapped after he did.

“Two out of three?” Taichi asked.

“Obviously!” Mimi hissed. She selected a more difficult song, and the pair started dancing again.

This time, Meiko held her breath. She covered her mouth and watched them with wide eyes. Taichi didn’t miss a beat. It seemed like he had memorized this song. He was undoubtedly impressive to watch. Meanwhile, Mimi kept turning around to look at her, and Meiko would offer her a smile whenever she did. But then Mimi always lost points. Her ponytail started to come undone, and she started to sweat through her makeup.

Taichi won that round too. Koushirou applauded, and Meiko followed suit. Then Koushirou sighed and buried his face in his hands. Sora patted his back.

Taichi reached out to shake Mimi’s hand, but Mimi crossed her arms.

“Three out of five,” she insisted.

Taichi chuckled in a way that was starting to get on Meiko’s nerves. “Okay,” he agreed. He pressed the button for an easier song.

This time, Mimi kept her eyes focused on the screen. She moved her feet carefully from arrow to arrow. Then she made a mistake and she stopped moving. She stared at the ground.

“No!” Meiko shouted. Without another thought, she jumped onto the platform with Mimi.

Sora and Koushirou gasped. Taichi’s jaw dropped and he missed a bunch of points in a row.

“I’ll take the tiles on the left! You take the tiles on the right!” Meiko ordered. She had never played DDR before, but it didn’t look hard. Certainly it would be easy with only half of the dance platform.

“Okay!” Mimi agreed, beaming. She looked like she might start crying, but she stayed focused on the screen. The girls easily fell into step with each other. When the song ended, Meiko grabbed Mimi’s hand and twirled her in a circle.

Mimi sniffled and let go so that she could dab her eyes, clearly worried about her mascara. So Meiko just hugged her instead, and Mimi sighed in relief.

When the girls looked back at the screen, they saw that they had won. Sora cheered loudly.

“Congratulations,” Taichi said. He smiled rather sadly, and Meiko’s heart went out to him.

“Taichi, I’m so sorry,” Meiko said. “I’ve handled this so badly from the beginning. I-I like you a lot, but…”

“It’s fine!” Taichi held up his hands. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault that I’m insufferably dramatic. I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not insufferable!” Meiko said quickly.

“Oh, he is,” Mimi drawled. “I am too, but I pull it off better!” That seemed to be Mimi’s best mature response. Meiko couldn’t help but giggle.

Mimi offered her hand, and Taichi shook it.

“You still won two out of three rounds,” Mimi said. “You deserve some sort of prize…” Her eyes fell on Koushirou.

Taichi finally lost his cool. “Ahhffblrrghz,” he mumbled incoherently.

“Koushirou!” Mimi called out. Her geeky friend turned pale. “Taichi can have the cake. You can share it with him,” she said sweetly. “Thank you for carrying it all day. You’re a doll.”

Koushirou looked relieved and he picked up the cake tray from the floor. “Anytime,” he said.

“Thanks, Mimi,” Taichi said.

“You’re sharing that cake with all of us, right?” Sora asked.

“Sure thing,” Taichi reassured her. He hopped off the platform and clapped Koushirou’s shoulder. “Thanks for being so supportive, man,” he said.

“Anytime!” Koushirou repeated. He immediately accepted Taichi’s invitation to eat and popped a bite of cake in his mouth. He had been waiting all day, after all.

Meiko was about to follow her friends off the stage, when Mimi grabbed her hands and started to sing.

“Seasons may change, winter to spring…

But I’ll love you until the end of time.

Come what may,

I will love you until my dying day!”

…

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

#Digimon Femslash Week #Mimi Tachikawa #Taichi Yagami #Meiko Mochizuki #Koushiro Izumi #Meimi #Taishiro #Taichi and Sora #my fanfiction #my drabbles #some fun facts:#I used 'Maine Coon' as the first club for the reference to Meicoomon's namesake #Meanwhile #'Gold Finger' is the name of a real lesbian bar in Tokyo #Initially I called my fictional lesbian club 'Silver Finger'#But then I thought about plants and green and Mimi so I went with 'Green Thumb' :p #I hope that you enjoyed this silly story #Let me know :)

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