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#is he pining or devastated or bewitched
inarticulateimbecile · 6 months
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Amortentia
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staarri · 1 month
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HIIII, how are you? I hope everything goes well <33 I would like to order gaming x reader, maybe as an accidental kissing session? If it's not too much trouble, thank you very much for reading <33
𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐬   
  —   characters :   ga ming
  —   character(s) are friends with reader, gn!reader, not really an accidental kiss… it had a purpose, mutual pining, this is a work of fiction
      fluff     ,    accidental kiss     ,    modern!au     .      word count : 1.1k
hi there lovely! i changed this up a bit since i couldnt figure out what to write. i hope you dont mind! very extra special tag for @aventurne !!
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The movie ends in such a bittersweet way. The protagonist lives her life as a teacher and her sister marries the boy she once loved the most. She looked back at her life in such a happy way now that she also had someone for her.  You sniffle, bringing a tissue to your eyes. Your friend looks at you, eyes filled with worry.
“Are you okay?” He asks, hesitantly bringing his hand to your cheek and wiping away any kind of remaining trail the tear left. You two had planned a little movie date. If you could even call it that–You did it as friends anyway. Yet you never expected the movie you chose to be this… This devastating.
“Mhm–” You sniffle again, cheeks puffing up. You start fanning your face to try and stop crying, but the more you think about it the sadder you get. “That was just. Wow, like I didn’t expect it at all.”
He giggles, laying back comfortably on his seat. He nods, yeah. 
“Think that’ll happen to me too?” You’ve always believed love would never work out the way you wanted it to. For you, of course. I mean, your friends are all in happy relationships–marriages for some and you’re stuck at this golden age, single. 
“With the amount of unrequited love stories you’ve watched? At this point, I’m starting to believe it will.” Ga ming teases you. 
“That hurt a little, `ming.” Crossing your arms pretending to be upset.
“Oh–Oh I'm sorry,” He says sarcastically, laughing. “Let’s not forget what happened with La La Land.”
“Whatever! I doubt you’ll be getting a partner in the near future anyway; So we're in the same boat.”
He grins, “Really now?”
You nod frantically. Going on a short rant about how his personality is so explosive it causes the other people’s social battery to die out immediately, or how he’s so active all the time you never get a break from all the activities you guys do. Or how his smile is so captivating, maybe how his face is so bewitching.
“Don’t know. All I'm hearing is you like me so much it's killing you.”
“I do not!” 
“Sure.” 
Yeah. Maybe you do like him. A lot, maybe a bit more. He’s cast a spell on your heart and you can’t undo it–It’s a curse and a blessing all at the same time. What if you like your best friend? It’s not like he felt the same way anyway. Well he might, with the mixed signals he’s been giving you. But he’s nice to everyone–He’s like that to everyone. And it has always been like that from the very start.
He looks at you in a way that squeezes and twists at your chest; He smiles at you in a way that causes all the butterflies to fly from its cage in your stomach and you feel so lightheaded when you two laugh together. You’re lost in the way he’s so caring, and it makes you feel sick and selfish wanting him for all yourself.
But that's just how you feel. For all you know–He might just be leading you on, and you’ll find out once you admit your feelings to him right now at this moment.
It's so difficult not to blurt it out. The love from your heart is escaping and taking this tension between you as its new home. You just look at him as he takes in the surroundings of your venue, with the warm fairy lights emitting a glow that makes him look more ethereal by the moment, and with the couch that has his hair all fluffed up. But it’s just now that you notice how bright his eyes look, how the shine compliments the red hues so perfectly. Just now that you see the little fangs on his teeth and how his face scrunches up so right whenever he smiles widely. You wonder how he’ll look when you two grow old, how much will change within those years.
You can’t be his, it’ll ruin you in more ways than one.
“You’re awfully quiet, was the movie that bad?” His concern is enough to melt the walls you’ve worked too hard to build around your heart. He will ruin your inner peace, is it weird that you would let him?
You don’t dare answer.
“Hey, look at me.” 
He brings his hands to your cheeks, making you face him. You feel stupid in love, it's like you just can’t get enough air to your lungs because even that is filled with the scent of him.
“Talk to me, what’s wrong?” 
His eyes wander from your lips to your own eyes, looking for any kind of sign that you don't feel good. You place your hand on top of his and gently press your cheek against him more. You warned yourself, this is a bad idea. But you never listen, not once. 
Now he’s kissing you in a way that’s going to screw you up forever.
It’s soft, the way he handles you so gently. As if you’re some kind of porcelain that’s a little too fragile. You’re regretting everything that brought you to this moment but you’re not complaining one bit.
And it was short-lived. It wasn’t even a kiss, it was a peck on the lips. He was scared that you wouldn’t feel the same way, because somehow maybe you didn’t fall in love with your best friend who you’ve had multiple dimsums with. The friend that held you in your darkest moments and the friend who wished for all your partners to somehow quit playing with your feelings so he could be the one to be there for you instead.
Oh god, you were inlove. And so was he–and maybe even more than you.
“I didn’t mean to do that.” He stammered. Cheeks red and yours the same. You two were affected under the same spell you put on each other. “I swear–You just looked too pretty. I couldn't help it.”
It feels like you’ve just discovered love. Like you were the only one to know how it feels to be in love with someone. The tension is gone and all you’re feeling is pure adoration from him, from the way he stares at you with an expression you’ve never seen before.
Someday, this will end. But for now? You’ll be treasuring the moment in a way you’re sure no one else has.
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characters belong to their respective companies. everything is written by staarri - do not steal, reupload, translate, modify or feed my work to ai.
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ohsunnyboy · 1 year
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THE SUNNY DAY LIBRARY ( masterlist )
open rain or shine! come have a look —
✧ for my personal favs !
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ZEROBASE1⋆·˚ ༘ *
— how they play genshin !
to chase a dream — zhang hao 
all your life, you and zhang hao have been chasing each other. you wonder here, if this is where your symphony ends (musician au, rivals, makeouts and happy endings)
steal your night — sung hanbin ✧ : a night in monaco ( part 1 )
you never knew you had a boyfriend until sung hanbin eats your tiramisu and steals your heart under the stars of monaco (fake dating, flirting, tension and desserts)
╰ far from here — sung hanbin : a night in monaco ( part 2 )
you had quite different plans for tonight, but it can't get much better than being snuggled up to sung hanbin (falling in love, only one bed, lazy kisses and not rushing in)
i insist — kim taerae
when there's moments like this, it's hard not to fall in love with kim taerae all over again (established relationship, fluff, lazy morning cuddles and kisses) 
against everything — ricky shen
you know nothing about shen quanrui, duke of the north. all you do know is that you're getting married and you're winning this sword fight (royalty!au, arranged marriages, sword fights and honour)
anything but right — park gunwook
park gunwook has bewitched your heart and enchanted the court. but everyone else seems to know that, except you. (fantasy and royalty, forbidden romance and magic)
a spark of light — han yujin
while han yujin isn't the greatest at maths, he is good at keeping your mind off it... that and being an annoyance (bestfriends, homework, pining away and gaming)
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BOYS  PLANET⋆·˚ ༘ *
all eyes on you  —  lee seunghwan ✧
these low lights and your impossible heart, but nothing is more devastating than lee seunghwan's eyes (college au, friends to lovers, a kiss to confess)
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always more to come... FIC QUEUE... OTHER GROUPS
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incognosis · 1 year
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@dvouring: he has the marks of one of zhongli's past lovers upon him, and it was difficult to tell which part of the ex archon was looking at him when he saw pieces of osial. sprawled upon the bed, a gentler rain outside a darkened sky, it's raindrops a soft cacophony upon the rooftop, the room is dark save for the bare skin of morax's arms, the bioluminescence of childe's inherited scales that seemed to pulse with his heartbeat. ' zhongli. ' rasped sigh left him on a quiet exhale, the sound of his voice enraptured by the sight before him. glowing hand would move the part the red folds of childe's shirt, the way his hand touched the harbinger's sternum making osial's gills at his ribs flutter, making childe's eyes dark with want. he knew this, and yet, it continued to rain. who are you looking at ? me, or the god who possesses my body ? a hand came up to rest at zhongli's nape, gentle in how he pulled apart the ties, rich brown hair falling from it's binds. in that moment, maybe it is the culmination of both their wants that he holds the silker umber strands in hand, kissing the hair at his fingertips like one would worship any part of a deity they could.
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he   stares   at   the   creation   below   him   with   eyes   of   divinity,   cor   lapis   gaze   splintered   with   all   the   rawness   of   a   god   lost   in   the   throes   of   the   situation   they'd   found   themselves   in.   in   everything   he   does   -   zhongli   is   so   assured,   morax   even   more   so,   so   confident   in   each   step   he   took   through   this   mortal   life.   but   even   for   him   -   this   was   uncharted   territory,   dark   and   abyssal   waters   that   he   could   navigate   only   based   on   feeling   alone.   and   for   a   man   who   had   spent   over   six   thousand   years   avoiding   such   emotions?   it   was   a   monumental   task,   one   that   he   would   laud   to   be   harder   than   anything   else   he's   ever   done   in   his   long,   long   lived   life.   but   childe...   the   knowledge   of   childe,   on   the   other   side   of   this,   that   makes   it   all   worth   it   in   the   end   he   supposes.   
gilded   scales   enshrouded   in   umber   pulsate   in   the   dim   room,   the   gold   tips   of   his   claws   so   gentle   in   their   caress.   countless   scars   from   the   harbingers   own   battles   mottle   the   skin   beneath   his   touch,   now   alongside   osial's   luminous   scales,   and   he   is   reverent   in   the   descent   of   his   fingertips   -   mapping   the   lines   of   sweet   flesh   with   studious   purpose,   all   while   the   hue   of   his   gaze   refuses   to   leave   childe's   own.   tender,   tender,   tender   -   it's   impossibly   soft   -   the   way   zhongli   looks   at   him,   the   way   his   stoney   features   have   melted   into   something   downright   devastated   -   just   by   the   sound   of   the   harbinger   muttering   his   name   alone.
a   rumble   of   thunder   in   the   distance,   the   patter   of   rain....   it   all   falls   to   the   wayside,   long   since   distracted   by   the   pull   of   zhongli's   draconic   intent.   the   hand   not   upon   childe's   chest   curls   tight   into   the   sheets   near   his   head,   as   the   younger's   coaxing   fingertips   find   solace   in   his   nape   and   he   watches   -   bewitched   -   when   a   reverent   kiss   is   placed   to   the   silk   of   his   dark   tresses.   
something   shifts   in   him   then,   a   piece   of   stone   reconnecting   to   a   jagged   edge   of   his   heart,   and   zhongli   finds   his   chest   full   -   so   full,   as   he   leans   downwards.   it   is   unsurprising   for   childe   to   wonder   who   zhongli   pines   for   in   these   moments   -   when   the   vestiges   of   his   prolific   age   old   lover   and   the   new   object   of   his   affections   have   become   one.   it   doesn't   stun   him   in   the   slightest   that   he   might   be   confused   or   hurt   by   where   zhongli's   gaze   or   touch   may   linger.   but...
the   answer   to   childe's   questions   come,   when   zhongli   lowers   his   head,   their   mouths   mere   centimeters   apart.
"   ajax.   "   he   murmurs   on   a   prayer,   and   seals   their   lips   together   in   a   desperate   press.
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azpartygirlz · 3 years
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Thursday, September 30th
SHANNON & THE CLAMS
at Club Congress (info/tix)
“I am terrified of spiders,” says Shannon Shaw. “My mom always told me that they’re drawn to me. Like, they would drop down and dangle in my face as a baby, or they’d get in my bed.” 
But the powerhouse singer-bassist of retro-rock band Shannon & The Clams had bigger fears when she went to an astrologer two years ago. Shaw was at an emotional tipping point — willing to try anything — because everything she loved was falling apart. 
“It felt like the end of an era,” Shaw says, which began to unravel in 2016 with the tragic Ghost Ship warehouse fire in the Clams’ DIY community in Oakland. In 2018, the California wildfires in Napa almost caused her parents to evacuate their homes. In 2019, a lurking intruder drove Shaw out of the beloved apartment she’d lived in for 14 years. And then, right as her band was getting invited on big tours with bands like Greta Van Fleet and The Black Keys, her father was diagnosed with cancer. “The idea of leaving my family was agonizing — it was torture,” Shaw says. 
The astrologer told her to summon Durga when she felt powerless, a Hindu goddess who holds a weapon in each of her eight arms. Shaw saw the connection. “The symbolism of the spider made a full turn in an interesting way,” she says. “I was getting protection from the thing I feared the most.” Plus, she says with a laugh, “Spiders destroy the bullshit bugs. Like mosquitoes. Who needs ‘em?” 
Year Of The Spider, the band’s sixth studio album, rages against death and disease with the power of a thousand angry Ronettes. Songs like “All Of My Cryin',” “Mary, Don’t Go,” and “Year Of The Spider,” pulse with girl-group elegance and punk ferocity. On a Clams record, you always get both. 
That harsh/soft balance often comes down to Clams keyboardist Will Sprott. "Different keyboards lend themselves to different tones," Sprott says, "a Rhodes [piano] is more soft and bell-like, whereas a Wurlitzer has these chunky, abrasive bites. So when I'm deciding which instrument to play on a song, I'm thinking, what does the song make you feel? What do you want it to communicate? It's like, do you want this organ to scream at you or soothe you?" 
On the album opener, it was a little bit of both. “Do I Wanna Stay" is a slow tango between Shaw's voice and Sprott's piano that builds to a break point when Shaw rasps, “I dream at night…” sounding like someone whittled Brenda Lee into a shiv. 
"We went line by line with a fine-toothed comb to make sure the instrumentation matched each scene, almost like a movie," Sprott says, adding, "That's one thing about having Dan [Auerbach] as your producer — he is really good at seeing an overall vision of the sound — knowing when and where to add or remove certain layers." 
Drummer Nate Mahan agreed, saying "Stay" was a true collaboration. "Shannon had a very unique idea about the tempo of that song that we had to work out with Dan … The timing took us quite a while to get right, but I'm really proud of how it came out." 
When Mahan moved to Oakland in 2007, he was a fan of the band before he joined. "I was in a lot of improvisational and noise bands in a city that has every micro-genre you can imagine floating around … Shannon and the Clams stuck out to me because they had great songs with great singers, which I thought that really lacking in Oakland at the time." 
Mahan's intuitive approach shines through on songs with dense imagery like, "Mary Don't Go" — one of Shaw and Auerbach's favorites. "I wanted to leave space for the words and pull back [on the drums]," Mahan says. "When you slow the pace, the words can feel more powerful." 
On “Godstone," which tells the story of a surreal underwater encounter Shaw had in Hawaii, Mahan ditched the drums completely and played a halting, horn-like piano line while Sprott added the eerie arpeggiated synths. 
The other source of the Clams' signature sound comes from the decade-long creative partnership between Shaw and Clams’ guitarist Cody Blanchard. In “I Need You Bad,” their voices lock into bewitching minor chords. “It’s like a zipper when we sing together,” Shaw said, “I think we have a blood harmony, though we’re not related.” Bands that do have blood harmonies — the Everly Brothers, the BeeGees — are major musical touchstones for them. But unlike those groups, Shaw, Blanchard are close friends. They live 15 minutes away from each other and when both are in town, will rehearse in the goat shed turned recording studio that Blanchard built in his yard.
Blanchard mixed Spider at Dan Auerbach’s Easy Eye Sound Studios the same week tornadoes devastated parts of Nashville right before the COVID-19 shutdowns in early 2020. He also wrote and sings lead on roughly half the songs on Spider. His songs, like “Flowers Will Return” and “In The Hills, In The Pines,” have swelling pop arrangements and a mysteriously sparse falsetto, reminiscent of bands like The Hollies and The Association. 
As a songwriter, Blanchard said he can get neurotic, so he tried Dolly Parton’s trick: writing songs from another person’s point of view. It worked, yielding some of Spider’s darkest songs: the howling “Crawl,” which has a roiling hard-rock guitar (“that was really fun — just a classic, rippin’ ‘70s guitar solo”) and the album's first single, “Midnight Wine," a thundering baroque-pop number that was inspired by friends and people in the Oakland arts community who died of drug overdoses over the last few years.
“I was thinking specifically of the feeling of alienation,” said Blanchard. “Where it feels like nothing in society works for you. The only thing that makes sense is to get fucked up to the point where you don’t care if you die or not because life is too difficult and bleak.” 
Spider ends with the slinky Motown-esque, “Vanishing.”Shaw dons her spiritual spider armor once more, singing directly and poignantly to her father (who is doing well, she said.) At first, Shaw wondered if the lyrics were too personal to put on the record. 
“It’s very emotional, very tender,” she said. “I also had these ideas that made no sense, like having the weird call-and-response, but we made it work so it was one of those songs that gave me the chance to grow.”
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courtorderedcake · 5 years
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Hallow : ch XIII - CSSNS 2019
“The Goblin King was prepared to host the Darkness, stealing Fae women away to their corrupted lands underneath the ground as concubines. The Darkness chose another in his stead, but not before this selected vessel enacted a devastating attack in its vengeance, revealing its hatred & rage. The battle was a lesson the old kings had forgotten; never underestimate an opponent.
Many more lives were lost as they razed over any who dared defy The Goblin King’s will. Only the pure love of our rulers united in matrimony, breaking the Vorpal Dagger, sealed the darkness and the Goblin menace away. The light flourished under their fair rule, and the queen bore a child as pure as moon beams, swan feathers, and starlight. They lived happily ever after, and shall be written in history as Heroes for All Time.”
This is the history Princess Emma memorizes from the day she is born, paraded about and presented only with the highest protection. The palace is a cage she wishes to escape, desperately. Not careful what wishes she made, Emma discovers history is written by the victors - The Dark One has an entirely different version of the events that took place.
Read on AO3 here.
Rated E for explicit themes, Mature situations, and Fae fuckery.
Written for @cssns
Ch 8 / ?? - In which a true apology is given
*** ARCHIVE WARNINGS VERY MUCH APPLY FOR THIS CHAPTER. PLEASE READ WITH DISCRETION.
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The Darkness was roiling mad, a furious mass of thorns that exploded in his rib cage and up through his spine. It ripped threw his head, his shoulders tightening as it dug in like a macabre torture device of old. He kept trying to explain, trying to make it understand his reasoning, but it only howled like a wolf outside the sheep pen - 
YOU HAVE NO REASONING FOR WHAT YOU HAVE DONE, YOU STUPID MAN! 
She had to be well in order to fight long enough to survive for Nil; to not just hang herself while the Dagger melted silver down her clavicle. 
DO YOU NOT REMEMBER OUR JOINING, OUR PACT? HOW TO ACT WITH FINESSE, TO BREAK SOMEONE WITHOUT EXERTING PRESSURE, OR HOW TO PUSH THEM OVER THE EDGE? 
Calling for Alice and asking her to go to Emma's aid was a good thing strategically, and her actually appearing like some sort of fogged looking glass apparition he summoned was a blessing
YOU COULD HAVE FOLLOWED MY SIMPLE PLAN FOR YOU TO PUSH HER WHILE SHE WAS BREAKING! 
The voice changed in timbre and tone as it sometimes did, easily digging its points home. Killian could practically see his father, drunk and dismissive, shouting at Liam and beating them both bloody under one of the massive pines. The memory of watching Liam with a broken jaw as he went into his first year in the junior naval recruits was the one it dug its claws into, the Darkness fueling old anger and shame. 
YOU SAW HER HIDE FROM YOU, YOU COULD HAVE EASILY WORKED YOUR WAY UNDER HER SKIN AND GOTTEN HER FOLLOWING YOU TO NIL. YOU COULD HAVE EVEN PRESSED FOR THE SHARD, IF SHE WAS TRULY AT HER WIT'S END - INSTEAD YOU TRIP OVER YOUR TONGUE LIKE A BOY! AN IMBECILE! 
It pressed him, but he was not weak. He could crush his father ten times over now if the bastard wasn't dead, and no one could get under his skin again. Certainly not some crying woman, especially the daughter of an enemy, and such a valuable card to hold in play if he wanted to be free. Maybe he had told Alice too much about his worries over Emma, while Robyn watched with bewildered dismay. Maybe he blurted how she was acting, and they thought that he was showing weakness or worry. Imagined of course, there was nothing - 
SHE BEWITCHES YOU INTO SYMPATHETIC STUPOR, SHE FILLS YOU WITH IDEAS OF REDEMPTION YOU DO NOT DESERVE, YOU ARE SO CLOSE TO YOUR REVENGE, OUR REVENGE, AND YOU FAIL ME. I MUST PUNISH YOU, I MUST HURT YOU. 
He braced himself; the pain of broken bones as he folded into himself was enough to make him wish for true death. 
I WISH YOU WERE DEAD, FREEING MYSELF FROM YOUR INEPTITUDE WOULD BE A BLESSING WELL MET WITH YOUR DEATH. 
They both knew it was fruitless, the idea impossible while the dagger was still broken. He would survive the pain, and the Darkness would greet him in its vengeance without fail. With eyes closed tightly, he braced himself for what was to come. 
Instead of pain, though, it cackled, and Killian felt more fear than before. 
Oh yes, feel that fear, Dearie. No more physical pain for today. You mentioned strategy - I have a strategic plan for you, regarding a fitting punishment; the sort worthy of this sort of betrayal. You've been misbehaving without consequences too long now, your leash forgotten. Do you remember when you failed to stop Snow Margueryte and her Charming? Do you remember how I tormented you for your failure? 
Killian shook his head in horror. Not that. 
Oh yes, that. It's time for your nightmare. I'll provide you mercy and heal you first… Be patient, for when I'm done we'll begin my favorite game with you. We haven't played in such a long time… 
His bones began to knit back together, cracking into place noisily and sloppily. Emma's voice suddenly echoed into his chamber, breaking through the Darkness' cackling. 
"Dark One!" She was blazing with rage and light magic, Killian barely able to stand upright at her advance. The Darkness felt licks of her fury strike, its yowls of pain as it hid itself away a bitter requiem of relief. 
Killian gritted his teeth as he adjusted his frame to lean against the wall, his body still healing slowly even as the Darkness exited. "Princess?" he rasped. 
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she shrieked; he thought she might move to strike him, to hear the venom with which she spat the question out. "You went through Ariel? Through Alice and Robyn? Through Eric and Marta? Did you think that I would not find out immediately or that they would not tell me of your attempt at deceit? What information did you hope you could squeeze from them while I was dealing with the consequences of my failures? You already know all of them, what could you possibly use against me now?"
He winced, and not all from pain. A vague guilt that had a name - remorse perhaps? 
“That wasn't the reason, I didn't - I wanted to -"
"I don't want anything to do with you. How many times do I have to -" Emma's magic hit him again, his corroded mind practically melting as her magic burnt the Darkness where it attempted to remain stuck to his bones. His knees wobbled. 
"Emma, I just need you to know -" 
Emma interrupted as he tried to take a breath, sweat beading on his forehead. "No. No, you don't need me to, you want me to. Big difference, buddy, and I have a choice in whether or not I listen. I don't want to listen."
His voice sounded small to his own ears. "I just want to know that you're okay."
Emma laughed, her eyes wild and teeth bared. "You know that I'm okay, that I am just dealing with a war, deaths, betrayals, figuring out who to trust and who isn't a monster. You've known I was alright since I left you, since I didn't come back - it's you who isn't alright. You’re scared. I don't blame you for it either; I can't imagine how it must feel to be unable to make your own choices, but I am not and cannot be your crutch. Find someone else."
Nodding, he scrubbed his face, and then carded his hand through his hair. "I thought - Never mind. Please just - You'll have to take care of yourself to survive. Keep yourself safe, and the shard; talk to Ursula and Ariel, alright? I was - I thought they might be concerned for you, and I am sorry for bothering them. And you. That's all. Nothing else."
Marta poked her head in, clearing her throat. "Uh, Killian. Ursula has a ship ready for you, and she's requested that you leave immediately. I've offered to go with you part of the way to make sure you don't do anything else untoward."
Emma snorted, spitefully. "Thanks Marta. Sorry you got the short straw."
Marta sighed. "Princess, do you need me to -" 
"I'm fine," Emma snapped. "Just about done here." Marta gave a nod, taking her leave. 
"I'm going to leave then," Killian said.
"Good. If we never meet again it will be too soon."
"If it means anything, I'm glad you are safe. I'm glad the shard is safe. I am glad you are with people who can help you, and who are… good at protecting you. I don't - you don't have to worry if they are trustworthy, and they won't fail you. Goodbye, Princess."
"Farewell, Dark One." 
He walked in a daze to the place where his ship waited, uncaring and unaware of the Selkies booing him, the food and trash thrown at him, of Ursula, Eric, Ariel, Alice, and Robyn watching his trek out of the caves with Emma. He stared, Eric and Ariel openly glaring, Robyn giving him the same squinted look of confusion that she had previously, and Alice too busy talking to Emma. 
To distract her from him. A dull heaviness pushed down on his shoulders, weight settling in his stomach. 
Marta was already waiting for him on the ship, a look of pity for him on her face. "Ready?" she inquired softly. He nodded, and they drew anchor. The ship moved through the calm water, everything quiet as they departed, including the voices that made up the Darkness. 
The portal out was a one way exit, the ship's wheel in his hands a steadying comfort. They caught the breeze, leaving the tranquility of the underwater oasis and sailing off the proverbial edge of Ursula's world to land in stormy waters. 
He had to blink a few times as a bright green bolt of blinding lightning cracked in the heavens. The storm was massive, and he followed its course along the horizon, seeing an armada skirting a hurricane before it hit something unseen, the clouds breaking apart. Killian ran to the stern, Marta joining him with a hand over her mouth. 
Ursula's caves flickered into view, appearing like a great bubble from the sea floor by some otherworldly force. As the caves crested the surface, the protective forces that had been shielding the caves broke with a resounding force, the huge crash as they struck the surface to sink again sending a shockwave through the water. Their ship pitched back and forth as they held steady to her moorings; the water had become a roiling mess of waves from the magic radiating off of the fleet in the distance. Green lightning struck the water all around it, and even from their distance Killian could see floating carcasses and the mass of birds seeking carrion, the water a sickly olive color. The storm began again, and Killian brought the spyglass in his pocket to his eye to examine the strangest fleet of mismatched ships Killian had ever seen, and tethered at its front was the cause of this destruction - King of the Merfolk, the previous King of the Sea: Ursula's brother, Triton. 
Shuddering in disbelief of the King's fate, even if deserved, Killian tried to map and count the plan of attack from their positions. Frigates, sloops, and even a few galleons were interspersed with metal rusting boats in styles Killian had never seen. The largest was something Elsa had called a barge, and it led the ships as the storm beat around them, the towering man with a large, dirty, grey beard at the lead. Focusing with a twist, he surveyed Triton further. The partial God was bruised and emaciated, held by a golden collar around his neck that linked to the barge with its towering blocks of rectangular metal boxes. Following the chain from the man’s collar to a raised dais that lay on a deck, Neal lounged nearby in a windowed observation level, looking bemused. Triton was under the control of the prince, his powers controlled by Nil's desire to possess Emma. 
But they would never, never get through to Ursula - 
Triton waved a large trident around, and the storm sparked with green and purple electricity. Ursula's secret realm lurched into view again as he spun the weapon with skill, before it sunk below in another huge crash. Their ship creaked ominously as the waves sent them flying. Triton bellowed loudly, making Marta whimper next to Killian. 
"We have to go back," Marta whispered, watching Killian close the spyglass. 
"Go back? For what, the pleasure of being ripped apart by Goblins and a demi-god? She doesn't want me there, what good -" 
Marta slapped him hard, changing from a highborn prim matron to the visage of a livid sorceress. 
"Stop thinking about yourself for one damned minute, you narcissistic clam! Even if that is the Darkness in you, recognize that this is bigger than you or your princess - my friend and my people are about to be slaughtered. I know what you did. I know how you exploded over that fleet like some sort of comet, and how you screamed the entire time begging for forgiveness. I was there in the water, before and after. I watched you kill those men, I saw them die; it took days to get the blood out of my pelt. Are you really going to let that happen again? Even if they aren't your people?"
Remembering the Darkness and its threat of reliving his worst nightmares, Killian paused. A spark lit his chest into a blaze. 
"If you wanted to die so badly, you could not have chosen a more reckless bastard willing to assist." He turned the ship, heading straight towards Triton and the Goblin fleet. 
What are you doing?! 
Killian felt the Darkness wake again, still weakened. Reading his thoughts, it quieted at the promise of a battle, the idea of any sort of confrontation too delicious to push back against. It acquiesced to his intended course, lending strength that made Killian grin ferally. 
They had just passed where the portal had spit them out when he heard the noise of another ship close by, only slightly behind. It caught up with them in an instant, and he had to blink; the silhouette was so familiar, the way it glided through the water as if it flew, almost like the Jewel but not quite - 
The thought was obliterated as Emma came into view on the deck, her hair whipping around her scowling face. 
  *✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚
  "Get her out of here. This place is about to be a war zone if they manage to pit Ursula against Triton," Marta yelled at Emma's vessel, pointing to where Triton moved the water in huge eddies, the sea opening up and closing. 
Ariel yelled back, obviously frustrated and pointing at Emma. "We told her that, she -" 
"This is what Emma wants to do! We need to help Ursula, and we need to help your father, so why are you so oblivious you twit?" Alice marched toward Ariel, pointing, no longer soft spoken. 
"Of course I want to save my father, but how the hell is she going to help when she isn't even in her right mind!" Ariel spat, before regret played across her features. "Emma, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that in the way -" 
Alice and Robin cut off Ariel, though their words were lost to a forceful gust of wind. Alice looked livid, gesturing at Ariel to the point that Eric had stepped in and tried to separate them. Emma looked frozen in place, opening her mouth to say something, but thought better of it and retreated. Killian caught her eye, but she just looked through him, and instead jumped when thunder boomed over their heads.
Wind ripped at their own sails, Marta running to the front of the ship as Killian raced toward the back, glancing over to see Emma's sleeker vessel roll in the waves. The storm itself seemed concentrated around them suddenly, growing in ferocity. Massive waves, fueled by Triton’s powers, drew up shipwrecks that crashed into their vessels, jostling the princess and sending Eric to the wheel to frantically steer. Ariel was red with rage, screaming at Alice and Eric, while Emma tried to get their attention. 
Killian yelled at them to stop, but they only pointed their shouts at him, rain now pouring down on them like the sky had opened. 
Emma let out a scream of frustration, and Killian could see it before it happened, moving with a rope in his hand as he threw back the last of the vial in his pocket, jumping into the water only moments after Emma lost her balance and flew over the side. 
  *✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚
  "Stop fighting, it's making the storm - " Emma shouted, but it was drowned out over the roar of waves, the downpour, and the brawl. A wave tore at her, and she was thrown roughly to the deck, her hand catching a rope for support. The wind whipped the rigging skyward, her cuff falling away as she flew off the planks and into the ocean. 
The water hit her full on, taking her breath away. She scrambled for the cuff, realizing too late it was lost in the sea. The dark water was freezing, crushing her in the indeterminate up and down. In a panicked moment she tried to summon the cuff, and when her magic simply sputtered, she tried to conjure air. No bubbles formed around her, her magic strained or weakened by Nil's influence on the sea. Fighting against the current left the air in her lungs burning, but she could not give in. A life of no more sky was how all of her nightmares seemed to end: here in the silence of drowning, in a life with Nil, or surrounded by darkness that was too alive. What would her mother say? Her father? With their fiercest faces on, speaking of honor and hard won peace - 
"We never give up in this family, Emma. We always find another. Good always wins."
Now she wanted desperately to ask at what cost? At what cost did good win, when this was good? Good should not be having to struggle, banished from a realm for no more reason than hatred, locked away forever or until you could be of use, punishments that were cruel and unusual - that wasn't good winning. 
That cost didn't need to be paid when there were so many other paths available. If only they had sought wisdom, if they had reached out and tried to see what might be good for all… Emma wished that she could have helped them do better, that maybe if she wasn't drowning, if they weren't imprisoned, if the weight of what they built hadn't come crashing down, they all could have changed things. 
Her eyes blurred and bright spots burst in her vision. Blackness closed in, her magic dampened, embracing the beginning of the end, until a hand grabbed her own. It pulled hard, tearing through the water. A blue light came from somewhere in the dark, but when she reached for it Emma felt her legs touch a tail, hand tingling from shock. There was no way it was him; Ariel was right that she had lost her mind, this was just some strange vision before she would wake in her bed. Arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling her upwards, trying to beat the water that leaked into her mouth and nose, and there were his eyes, like he actually - 
Landing on hard wood with a thud, she could dimly hear voices of concern, but mostly she could see a soaking wet Killian looking down at her in fear. Emma coughed, choking on water as he watched her, breathing in harshly himself and falling back to his elbows. Too weak to move away from him and much weaker still to try to ask why, she stared at him in angry confusion. 
"You really need to stop drowning around me," he said in explanation, wiping wet hair away from his face, as if it meant nothing. "It's a terrible way to go, and I have made it abundantly clear that I will not let you."
Emma couldn't help the laughter that bubbled out of her at the absolute absurdity of everything, the hurt in her chest from the lack of oxygen, and how much hatred she wanted to feel even though she could not summon it. 
"I'll try and keep that in mind. Thank you," Emma whispered with as much annoyance as she could muster. Killian cracked a cheeky grin, and Emma felt the urge to punch him rise. 
"Emma, I'm so sorry. We realized that you were gone after he was jumping off the other side after you - " Alice rapidly began, before crushing Emma in a hug. The rest of her friends gathered, the storm calming around them on both ships. 
There was a loud splintering crack as more of Ursula's realm was pulled from hiding. Goblins threw ropes at the caves, climbing like spiders into the network of tunnels as Selkies launched their own bare defenses until they were dragged out in nets. 
A massive tentacle broke from the water, smacking hard against Triton as Ursula pushed free into the onslaught. Ariel gasped, and Marta began frantically pacing the deck. 
"What do we do?" Marta asked. Everyone turned towards Killian, who looked at his feet. 
"Don't look at me," he snapped, pointing to Emma. "The princess here does a far better job at improvisation methods. Ask her, she's your leader."
Emma blinked, staring at Killian with a suspicious glare. She thought for a moment, pushing past everything that had happened, her fears evaporating as she moved into planning. 
"We help Ursula, and we help the Selkies. Eric will pilot to Ursula, while some of us take the other ship and destroy what we can of Nil’s armada." She spoke calmly, delegating tasks quickly and methodically cycling through what they would need. "Ursula needs more time to try and get her denizens all out, so we need to make any sort of distraction we can. We can draw them away or at least split their forces if he knows I'm here."
"That is a terrible - " Ariel began, but Emma stopped her with a harsh tone. 
"If you have nothing better to offer, Ariel, I don't want to hear it."
Ariel managed to look shocked, before swallowing with a nod. "Let's free my father."
They split as a group, Emma giving Marta a solemn nod when they turned away to head towards Nil, Eric steering their ship straight into the formation. Killian forced his way between two ships in the rear, blending in easily, using their mix of styles to his advantage. It wasn't until the the first ship lay silent and burning that any attack looked like it was taking place. At least he could do this; maybe they could do this and for once take a victory. 
Marta steered hard into a barely held together wooden sloop. Alice and Robyn wreaked chaos with strange smoke bombs detonated by arrows while Killian lit sails on fire, the Goblins seemingly not understanding why liberally leaving petrol around could be a problem. The armada's wooden ships burned hot in the water, making the storm even eerier, green lightning mixed with the bright reds of the flames creating barriers for any course direction. It was clear that the Goblins were not familiar with any Naval strategy, and Emma felt a small surge of hope. Eric had a steady hand as he watched Ariel create portals, shutting them around longer vessels when they were halfway through with screeching crunches. 
The Goblin fleet took notice, but Nil made no move for Emma as their ship took fire. Eric and Ariel disappeared onto a steel boat with a claw like contraption while Emma tried to magic herself onto another ship’s deck without success. Her hands trembled, sparks finally lighting and sending her sprawling on a shiny silver floor surrounded by huge containers stacked on each other. A Goblin stared at her in confusion before she lunged, plunging her sword into its chest out of instinct. The Goblin fell with a thud, and Emma began to run. These ships were long and easy to cross. Her mind was made up to get to Nil before he could get to the Selkies. 
Killian appeared in the middle of the last surviving holdout of metal barges, pursued as he jumped across a row of metal containers above Emma while she herded a group into the space below. The Goblins above carelessly knocked containers down in a tumble, burying her pursuers. Emma met his eyes briefly, giving him a nod.
They continued through the maze of metal on opposite sides of each other, flowing into an easy strategy together that made her angrier still at Nil - angry that she could possibly consider working again with the Dark One. It was too simple to fall back into their unfriendly truce. The thought had barely crossed her mind when the wood under her feet splintered and bowed, her feet slipping as the barge tipped forward, barreling towards the sea floor. The impact of the hull against the rocky ground sent her flying, the noise alone reverberating through her teeth like she was shattering as the rocks came towards her at frightening speed. 
The same black blur as before pushed her into swirling water. The force of the whirlpool crushed them both, but her hand crushed his even harder while he pulled upward. Water resettled again as they gasped for air together at the surface, Killian’s hair sticking flat against his face. The water was full of debris and flame, smoke making it impossible to see much of anything. Ships ground together all around them as he helped her cling to a chunk of wood. It was in both of their best interests for her to be alive and uninjured, but here he was playing some sort of savior that went far beyond the bounds of their truce. He was behind her, at her side, or in sync with her step, both of them working together with an ease as if they were partners, and yet that’s not what they were. It made her angry, furious even, even in the midst of battle. 
"Killian, what - " But before she could finish, she was forced to push him frantically out of the way as a huge chunk of a rock formation fell, the resulting force smacking them together. "Look out, go!" 
More rocks fell around them and cut through the smoke, Ursula's lair appearing again to all as its protective shields flickered to a shuddering halt, the walls looming over them as it hurtled downwards again towards the sea floor. One of the main chambers swallowed them as the lair descended, pushing water aside as it split around them, crystals raining down in sparkling pieces. Caught in the push back of the water, they were pulled with the mass of rock as it fell away and began settling into the bottom of the sea. The force of the ensuing wave, however, pushed them back up and over the surface, Emma's back smacking against what was once the cave floor. The two pieces were still crumbling, but now sat horizontally in the water to create an invisible shoreline made of stone. Emma had little time to acknowledge where she landed, the wind escaping her lungs when she tried to shriek and shield her body from another round of the boulders. Killian pulled her into a roll, ending up above her breathing heavily. 
"G'off - " Emma let out a panted breath from under him, weakly protesting at his weight. "Catch your breath, and g'off!"
Killian rolled off of her onto his back, letting out puffs of air as he did. 
"Sorry," he rasped, and finally pushed his hair out of his face with a wet slap. Emma let out a laugh, regretting it instantly as she coughed. 
"S'alright." Propping herself upright on her elbows, she quickly glanced around the cave fragment where they had washed up, now its own small island in the turmoiled sea. Standing and peering around the cracked rock, her breath caught again. 
Ursula's realm was broken into pieces around the remaining ships, cracked and jagged mountains of what was once the cave jutting out of the water. The piece they were sequestered on was at the outer edge, so obscured by smoke that they could not see Ursula at all until Triton's first blow landed and swept the billowing clouds away. 
The brother and sister stood in the water in front of Nil's barge, both of them colossal and struggling against each other’s strength as Ursula's tentacles wrapped around the trident. Nets were thrown towards what was left of the caves, dragging selkies into a cargo hold, the water carrying sounds of distress to her ears. Emma slipped through the crack, running towards the water, but there he was in her peripheral, because of course he was. Of course he would stalk her even in the middle of a battle - 
"Don't you dare tell me not to do this, not to do something - " Emma hissed, putting more distance between them. He stood slightly in front of her, but made no move to stop her. 
"I wasn't going to," Killian replied with a sideways glance, following slightly behind when she pushed past. "Do you have a plan?" he asked when they got closer, nets hauling in screaming women and seals. 
"Get the Selkies out and turn Nil's focus fully on me so that Ursula can free Triton. Nil doesn't care about his people or how many die; he will only notice if a new plaything is put in front of him. I don't know how much time Ursula needs, but that's my last resort plan."
"I have a plan, and it should buy you time if you - " 
"Trust you again?" She whirled on her heel back towards him. "That's below even my last resort plan. I will never - " 
"I've betrayed you, and I understand that you owe me nothing, Em - Princess, but I swear to you now that I give you my fealty. I swear on Milah, Liam, and Elsa that I will be your ally, and help you in this war. Take a leap of faith here, please, I promise you that - " She turned away. Killian tried to follow, but she held up a hand. 
"Shut the hell up, Killian. Just stop. Please." Her voice wavered slightly, and he halted behind her. Seeing him look actually admonished, actually concerned as he pushed wet hair away from his face, Emma lowered herself into the water. 
"Fair enough." He whispered.
"By the way," her shoulders tightened, though she didn’t bother to glance at him, "if you're really sorry, truly apologetic even in some part of you that can still muster that emotion, a true apology would be changed behavior. Which is why if I am faced with you and Nil as my options, I will take this dagger shard to the bottom of the sea. I’d rather die than pick either of you."
"I am - " 
"I don't care, Killian. Thank you for your help here, and thank you for saving my life. It does not change anything."
Emma propelled herself forward into one of the nets, leaving him behind again. It dragged her and several frightened Selkies up over a deck, depositing them into some sort of holding cage. Emma moved quickly, cutting through the ropes with a knife that Ursula had given her. Handing it off to a nymph, Emma lifted herself from the floor with discarded netting, looking around to see what all was taking place.
Emma spotted Ariel in a corner, waving for her attention and pointing to a wall with a circling finger. She could make a portal; good - a quiet and easy way to get the Selkies to safety. Emma motioned to the groups of Selkies netted on deck, prioritizing those who were held down by Goblins or in view of the archers taking aim near the King's raised area. The first two attempts were straightforward, no Goblins milling around to stop them. The third was more harrowing, almost cut short by a Goblin's shrieking. Killian snapped its neck from behind as Emma braced herself for discovery, her eyes widening further when he ducked down and helped her cut through a heavy cord that bound the Selkies. They split apart again, the last groups too close to the front and at risk of being directly under a rain of archers. There was a shadowy section of boxes that she could dip behind for cover, but without the archers’ eyes distracted, it would be impossible to get to. Killian signaled from a corner, ducking behind a tarp when a patrol went by. 
Emma stayed still in the hold, pleading with her eyes, trying to tell him that she needed only a little time. He gave her a slight downcast smile, almost a grimace but not quite, and sprung from hiding. Slashing and hacking at a set of Goblins to provide a distraction as she ran to cut the last nets, he made his way toward the front of the huge metal ship until Nil bellowed. Nil pointed one of his gnarled fingers at Killian, eyes widening in recognition as his face turned from anger, to a smile. He laughed, opening his hands and spreading his arms as if presented with an old friend. 
Watching with a sick feeling churning in her gut, she saw Killian bow lowly. To her great horror, his wide, crooked, grin was once again back. 
  *✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚
  The bow he gave was met by several Goblins overtaking him, beating him as they placed shackles on his arms and legs. They weighed heavily, burning against his skin. Iron. Of course it was iron; it was earth, after all. Goblins were right behind Dwarves with their affinity for earth magic, able to bend iron with ease. 
Nil walked towards him wearing a fur cape draped over his shoulders that sparkled in the dim light. Killian could see that it was a poorly crafted blend of Merscale, Selkie pelts, and varying Ansapi skins. Even despite Nil’s garish and disgusting costuming, Killian saw the faintest glimpse of Milah in the man's unsure eyes. Then, the Goblin smiled broadly, and any trace of her was wiped away. 
"You made it!" Nil bellowed, seemingly overjoyed as his guard looked on in confusion, ignoring the lifeless bodies that lay around the ship and its strange cargo pillars, marking Killian’s path. 
Killian struggled slightly, testing his bonds as they seared the flesh. "Certainly did," he hissed. 
"Where is my Queen? My radiant bride-to-be and future submitting wife?" Nil practically sang. Killian could see his mouth was wet, the too long tongue in his mouth slick with salivation. 
Killian suppressed the disgust that threatened to spill over at the prince’s language. 
The Darkness caressed his bones, tickling gently under his skin. 
Tell him. Do it. End this. 
Killian set his jaw, thinking of Emma's hand on the barrier she had created in the woods, the way her brows had pinched and lips had turned down. She had trusted him briefly, even going so far to say that he had good inside of him when she first forgave him, and to say she wished him peace when she left. 
There had been a moment when she hesitated before going into the portal, thought about looking back at him, and he had hated her for almost forgiving him again. He had hated her for so much more than her slender shoulders had ever had to bear, blamed her for so much; he’d even told her in no uncertain terms that she should suffer as Milah had. And still, she was here, looking at him with those eyes that he couldn't escape. 
No no no, you listen to me, only to me. I am your master, you are my hound to beat when it fails to bring me my kills! No, NOW LISTEN, LISTEN. END THIS. 
He couldn't stop thinking of the anger and relief when she spoke his name again upon seeing him before Ursula, the way she had dismissed him instead of making him grovel like she should have, demanding her pound of flesh for what he had put her through. The way she was glancing at him now with apprehension and fear. 
She is a weakling, full of uncontrolled emotions and too much trust that has led to her ruin. Go on, stop stalling! Hurry, hurry now, we can get the shard and - 
And giving her to Nil would end with nothing more than misery for not only her, but anyone who stood in the Goblins’ way - Royals and Fae like Marta, or the numerous scattered Fae that refused a crown once before - 
“Well?” Nil asked, laughing raucously.
Well? Give him the princess, you blithering simpleton - 
Killian cleared his throat, preparing himself. "She's dead."
What!? 
"I must have misheard you, Dark One," Nil chuckled dangerously. "Say again?" 
Yes, say AGAIN? WHAT ARE YOU DOING? END THIS. 
The Darkness tried to force its words onto his tongue, but he would not let her forgiveness by dismissal be in vain. 
ENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHIS END THIS, GIVE HER UP 
"She's dead; she ran from me weeks ago. I found her body in a ravine, the shard dissolved to ash. I will never be freed." He spoke as bitterly as he could, channeling the hatred easily. 
"What?" the Goblin Prince screamed, enraged. "She is strong willed and has a bite to match that delectable bark, so she cannot be dead. She is like my own stolen mother, and destined for her blood to strengthen the throne. No, she cannot be dead."
You won't buy her time with this, you fool! This is inevitable, she is his and will be his like your whore was his father's. You must get the shard - 
"I assure you, she is. Even in death, she made it difficult. The ravine was deep and absolutely bloody terrible to climb into. I can't imagine falling down it was anything even she could have survived."
You will suffer for this. 
"Good," Killian whispered, mostly to himself. Emma looked at him from the remains of the net, where the Selkies were now freed from their confines. She motioned for him to stop, but he shook his head, wet strands of the shaggy mess sticking to his forehead. The Goblin Prince paced, before taking deep breaths and turning again to face Killian. 
"Then why have you come here, slaughtered my fleet, and created chaos? I've heard about your glory under my father. Did you really come here empty handed to tell me you're untethered?" Nil attempted to sound amused, but the desperate edge was heavy in his tone. There was no control there, just an angry brat brashly striking out at everyone. 
Killian put on a pedantic smile, causing Nil to immediately start shifting in his place like a child. "Why wouldn't I? I only create chaos, and with no master that means I can strike against you too. Your damnable father may not be here, but I can still hurt you," he drawled, a bit of The Darkness in his voice for finesse. 
What are you doing, what ARE YOU DOING? 
"Then you're useless to me. It's lucky I don't believe you." Nil smiled with a menacing edge. "We'll just leave you here for safekeeping until I can verify this unfortunate and convenient tragedy. My betrothed is a beautiful specimen and so strong, it's hard to believe she isn't ferreted away somewhere. Her tenacity knows no bounds, yet again like my beloved Mother. I love that fighting spirit, she will make a strong future king, as it is written." Walking to a large flat piece of iron and picking it up from the floor, the sheet rolled like paper in his glowing hands until it crafted into a large curved spike.  
There was a sharp pain in his chest as the U bend of the makeshift iron anchor broke through the skin of his back, cracking ribs. Killian groaned, falling back, but Nil was there, standing on top of the iron contraption and pushing it deeper. Pushing the other side of heavy iron through his ribcage, Killian felt the air escape his lungs in a choking rasp, forcing him to double over, while Nil gave him a hard push into the sea. 
You've killed us both you fool. I hope you're happy. 
"We don't die. I'm content to lie at the bottom of the sea if that means another does not have the same fate as Milah. I meant what I said."
You will know true agony for this. Your insolence has been a problem, but this? This you will suffer for; this you will know true pain for. 
"Aye, I'm sure of it. For now, enjoy the water for the both of us."
The dark pressure seemed endless, and the pain was constant, but it cleared his thoughts. Killian of the Blackwater, left to sit in the blackest depths forevermore. The Darkness writhed and cajoled and raged, but nothing it did could disturb his peace, the idea of penance weighing heavier than the cold, deep nothingness. 
He wondered if this was what Liam felt. The thought didn't hurt him this time. 
The anchor dragged along the sand at the bottom, drawing another sound that escaped in bubbles. More pain burned through him as his lungs filled with water. Stars lit behind his eyes, bright pops of color flashing in time with the stabs of pain. Hours passed like this, his thoughts just as full with briny water as he tried not to think about how long this torture would continue. A firework lit in his mind as the anchor hit a rock, sending reverberating shocks through his body. He wished vainly for the darkness to take him instead of the bursts of brightness. 
But no, the light would not go away. It became a pinpoint, then a glow that was warmer and more comforting than anything he thought he would know, growing to spread through him. He cracked open his eyes to see what he thought was a fierce angel, or quite possibly a nymph or siren, who swam before him encased in bright sunshine shimmers of light with a halo around her head and wearing Emma’s face. 
There was no mockery, for which he thanked the heavens; she simply lifted him, felt the iron, and dropped him suddenly. Tentacles wrapped around the thickest bend of the molded metal, wood crashing around them as the strange suction cup dotted arms yanked. Then, the weight in his chest loosened and he was flying, finally free. It was too much; he flew too high and too fast, falling just as quickly, his eyes shut tightly. 
He fell on something hard, forcing him to cough up water as he raised himself on his side. Soft hands pushed hair out of his face, and something warm crashed into him against where the iron had been. He groaned as whatever it was that had settled against him. A person? When he let out a breath, the person - yes, it was definitely a person - began hitting him.
They stopped suddenly, and after no other smacks came for several moments he opened his eyes to see Emma staring back at him with worry, concern, and anger filling her own gaze. 
"You fucking idiot!" she screamed. "You -" 
"You know that I can't die, right? I'm a survivor.” 
"You still… Even if… If you had been hurt, hurt worse than this I mean, I… Why did you do that? I had a plan, and you - you bought us so much more time, I should have let you - I should have trusted - We couldn't have done this without you, I just…" Emma swiped at her eyes. "Why would you, you absolute…" 
Trying to sit up and practically toppling them both, he groused wryly at her noise of concern. "Maybe I just needed reminding that I could be on the hero's side, or maybe I knew you would never let me get off that easy and without yelling at me, you stubborn - " 
Emma hit him lightly again, her voice laced with strained amusement and lessening terror. "Don't move. Just stop, don't move, you arrogant ass."
"Princess, you deprive me of a dashing rescue, and then add insult to injury - "
"Emma. Please, I…" She straightened her shoulders and began to laugh, his grin at her not helping. Her voice cracked when she tried to start talking, and though she cleared her throat, she could not hide the tremble. "I think, Emma is just fine. Or I quite liked when you called me Swan." 
"Hey, hey now," he soothed, and when he laid a hand on her cheek she turned her face into his palm, holding her own hand against his. Emma couldn't hold back a shaky breath as a few tears escaped, and he pulled her tightly to him. "Hey. Don't cry. I'm the one who was gravely injured. It was about time you saved me from almost drowning, even though I technically cannot. We'll count it as one to three, with me in the lead. You can't steal that too, Swan." 
Her hiccupping laugh and weak wristed smack made him snort. The wound in his back closed, the Darkness ever keeping him alive, even as it still stopped short of his hand. Finally, Killian allowed himself to look around. They were on an old style ship, a light fleet frigate possibly, with no one else in sight. It felt vaguely familiar, but so did simply being at sea. Emma shuddered against him, cold and most likely exhausted as he pressed her for details. 
"What happened to Nil's armada?" 
"Your claim that I was dead caused the Goblin Prince to throw a full-on tantrum, leaving his own ship by portal. The mages he left in charge couldn't control Triton when whittled down in numbers. By the time Nil came back with his father, Triton was free, Ursula was laying waste to anything with Goblins on board, and the Selkies were free and trying to heal their wounded while regrouping. Ursula threw us on this ship after we looked for you, and the two of them destroyed Nil’s entire armada. Nil escaped through a portal at the last second, though. I watched through your telescope." Emma blushed lightly, pulling away from him. "Ursula said this ship will mean something to you, but I don't recognize it other than it being the one we used today. It's sort of a hodge-podge of Mer-craftsmanship; a frigate, speed sloop, galleon, and tall ship all crammed together. The base and bunks seem to be mostly the galleon? It's that ship Eric pulled out of the water before -"
"Liam's ship," he breathed. "My ship."
"I thought yours was The Jewel of the Realm? This one says something about being Jolly." She pointed over the edge, and he joined her to peer over. In sloppy carved graffiti, some sea dwelling mer-miscreant had replaced the clean script of the Fae Navy with 'The Jolly Roger'. 
Killian couldn't find it in himself to be angry, instead laughing as he crossed to the stern, feeling the same breeze that his brother and he had felt, the sea immediately calming him. Emma had only made this all the better, expending any magic she hadn't used drying their supplies and the ship's hold. Once waterlogged books filled with his brother's notes were crisp and clean, and a patina worn sextant looked almost like new on a pristine desk. Opening a trunk, he found naval uniforms pressed for a day's work, closing the lid after running his fingers over the brass buttons and fringed epaulets on the shoulders. 
Then there were the other ships, the pieces of other wrecks merged to what was his, that made up the crooked interior, filled with casks and casks of glorious rum. 
He created a small fire in the tiny galley, heating it with the butter they had left, still in Ingrid's strange plastic pastel container, before joining Emma on the deck with two cups as she arranged blankets. 
"How's your hand?" Emma asked, watching him settle. 
He gave a shrug, trying to mask the fire coursing through his bent fingers. "S'fine." 
He took a heavy swig, the rum doing nothing to help the pain in his hand. Emma rolled her eyes and crawled beside him, taking his cold palm in hers. "Which means 'it hurts' in High Killian. You're truly a terrible liar."
"The Goblin believed me when I told them you were dead." 
"Barely, and I mean, case and point." Emma smirked, her magic glowing softly. 
Killian barked out a laugh, and her magic spread, his hand stopping its searing throbs. He sighed in relief, and picked up a steaming mug. 
"Any idea where we're off to?" he asked. Emma sighed wearily. 
"I haven't had much more that a moment while you looked around yourself, but I believe we’re in this general vicinity." She spread out a large map that he had not noticed, unrolling it and pinning it down with a few stones she must have found in Liam's collection. Amethyst and a chunk of bismuth glittered at each corner. Emma pointed with the ends of a navigational compass to a location in the blue defined area she had made a circle around. "The stars aren't great right now, but I remember them well enough to find the cardinal points. There was a current map where I found this, and based on the stars and our speed, I think this is our trajectory if we're seeking the closest shore to land on." She tapped a small speck on the map with the compass, some unmarked island. 
Killian raised an eyebrow, remarkably impressed. "You know marine navigation?" 
Emma shrugged, with a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Even a proper noblewoman needs hobbies."
"I'm beginning to believe that you aren't the most proper of noblewomen, Swan."
"My reputation is ruined, you'll have to seek out other debutantes to fill your season."
He was caught off guard by her quip, and laughed in surprise, her giggling joining his. He brushed a finger over one of her lines on the map. "This is going to take some time, if you're right. Have you been at sea for any length of time?" 
Emma shook her head, and sighed. "No. The sea wasn't a place for a princess." Her tone was sour, and she looked at him with the glint of irritation he'd begun to notice was present when she spoke about the ridiculous notions of the royals. 
"Well, now it seems it is." He gave her a wink, and her cheeks flushed a deep red, the rum seemingly warming her further. "We'll be in close quarters, especially with what a mess of mismatched parts below deck is. Stay off my toes, and we'll be fine."
Looking at him with a cocked head and an amused expression, she gave a mock salute while imitating his accent. "Aye aye, Captain, sir."
He grimaced, and downed his rum. The Darkness had quieted again, probably due to her close proximity and how her magic seemed to target it lately. 
Emma took another large swig of rum, her skin heating with a visible flush. Killian grinned at her, taking the mug down to pour more for them. When he handed it to her, she took another swig, seeming to savor the burn in her throat and warmth in her belly. Giggling, she let herself fall back onto the blankets they had laid across the deck. 
"The last time I was this drunk was when I kissed you," she laughed, rolling onto her side clumsily to look at him. "After we escaped Pann."
"You were much more drunk then," he laughed back before realization dawned on him. "Wait, you remember that?"
"Yeah, and you lying about it." Her grin was playful, and she laid her head down to hide half her face in the blankets. Killian felt his ears heat, and tried not to choke on anymore of the rum. "Why did you, anyway?"
"I didn't - it was obvious you were out of sorts, just…"
"Knackered? Foxed? Three shades to the wind?" Emma giggled, and when he didn't return the laugh she reached for him. "I didn't mean to upset you, I definitely shouldn't have done that. I mean, I don't regret it, because it was nice and you have nice lips and a nice face, and - " She rambled, and his eyebrow raised. She let out a groan and covered her mouth. 
"A drunken mind speaks a sober - " he chuckled awkwardly, Emma reaching to push him softly before he could finish the proverb. There was a part of him that felt strange, full of pride, while all at once wistful. 
"Shut up," she whined, her blush making her eyes more green. "We will never speak of this again."
"Not a word from my nice lips about it again, I swear it." Miming zipping his lips, Emma groaned once more, falling back into the blankets again while laughing. Her laughter, being out at sea, the rum - it was heady when mixed with the thought of the way she had felt. There was no way he could admit anything more than that to himself, let alone Emma. 
Later he checked her coordinates against the constellations, both of them looking at the stars and looking over the map by candlelight. Emma fell asleep as he began to work in silence and he coaxed her to take a pillow to lay her head on, the quiet snoring lasting for a few hours. 
She tossed and turned under the blanket, briefly scaring him with the suddenness of her flailing. 
"Emma? Are you alright?" 
"Don't touch me, please don't touch - " she startled awake, throwing her body away from his own. With hazy eyes filled with tears, Emma scrunched into her frame just as he saw her do within Ursula's realm, magic leaving her in waves. "Nil, no, please don't - "
The first few bursts of magic caught him off guard, hitting him squarely in the chest. The third he tried to roll away from as it hit his hip, the movement fully pulling her from the night terror. 
Her breathing was rapid and unsteady, as she murmured an apology, fingers twisting her hair. 
She looked exhausted, and Killian wondered again when the last time she had gotten proper rest was. Approaching carefully, he wrapped her in the blanket she had thrown off, helping her to stand. 
"Go sleep in the bunk. It will be more comfortable for you," Killian whispered, and Emma let him tuck a stray piece of her hair behind her ear, his skin meeting the softness of her cheek. He nodded to the hatch, helping her down the ladder until she closed the latch behind her. Sitting down on the deck to look over the maps again, he attempted to rub out the twinge in his chest that had begun to ache from where her magic had dealt its blows. 
  *✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚
  The dress for the evening of this ball is beautiful, and fits her like a glove as she twirls for her father. He's happier than she has seen him in a long time, eyes crinkled at the corners, watching her like she is the most important thing in the world as she shows him the intricate crystal work that glitters in the light. 
Her mother hugs her from behind, a rare warm gesture rather than the iciness that Emma is used to in their relationship, decorum and etiquette frowning on displays of affection. The green velvet of her mother's gown smells like moss, pine, sweet grass, and fresh snow as her mother rests her head on Emma's shoulder. 
Her father twirled her again, and they're at the ball. As unsure as she is what this party commemorates, the food and drink do not disappoint, nor does the selection of dance partners. A warm set of hands covers her eyes, and she can feel the press of a person against her back but it isn't unwelcome at all. Instead she feels the roughness of his palms, stubble against her neck, warm breath in her ear, and Killian’s voice. 
"I have a surprise for you, darling," he whispers, and Emma feels her stomach flip like it had once with Graham. To her surprise, she feels trust and a sense of peace that he is with her here, and grins at his gift. The music goes silent in the ballroom, along with the guests, as if a great breath has snuffed everything out. "No peeking now…" Killian’s hands fall away and she screws her eyes tightly shut. 
A finger traces her exposed spine, and she giggles, the nail sharp against her skin while feathers soften its trail. Although not completely unpleasant, it feels off the longer and further it goes, and she shivers as she leans away from the touch. The person behind her wraps their arms around her tightly, making it impossible to move while trailing their nails down her exposed skin. Emma struggles, and she feels a sickeningly familiar giggle rumble through the chest against her back. 
This wasn't Killian any longer. She keeps her eyes shut, trying to wish away the sour smelling breath against the junction of her throat. 
"Open your eyes, my beautiful wife, my queen to rival all queens. Open your eyes and behold my gift to you," Nil hisses, dragging his tongue along her shoulder blade. 
Despite trying to clench her eyes shut with everything in her power, they are forced open to the light of the ballroom, twinkling lights that briefly blind then illuminate the bodies on the patterned floor. Crimson puddles lay around the courtiers as they themselves laid too still, livery soaking up the blood. Emma lets out a cry, running and slipping in the pools, her skirts and slippers filling with wet warmth, the taste of copper on her tongue. 
Her parents slumped in their thrones, eyes and mouths open too wide, and Emma hears herself now as she chokes out moans, her voice too small but so loud in the silence that permeates in the absence of life. From behind her father's throne, Killian appears, his hands and face drenched in the same red that blooms from her parents necks while he wipes his sword on his waistcoat. 
His face contorts in a sinister grin that only widens when he catches her horrified gaze, his eyes flickering to the floor. His eyes that are terribly, and awfully sad. 
Emma turns back to Nil, his smile akin to Killian’s own, the dagger in his grip as Killian takes a place slightly behind him like a prostrate lap dog. Emma shakes her head, falling to her knees. 
"Do you not like my gift, my radiant queen? I wanted something that left an impression as your last sight before the Darkness of your new life begins." Nil cocks his head, moving to her to lift her chin. Emma feels tears stream down her cheeks. "You will learn to love the Darkness, just as you will learn to love me, and love what I have done for you. Come, wife. Come."
The ballroom disappears around her as the world goes black, the floor falling away to leave her tumbling into the abyss. She lands on a soft surface, hands scrambling to feel around and escape. Her arms tangle in silken sheets as pillows, down, and bedding seemed to hold her, realizing she's landed in a bed that is not her own. The bedding fabric tightens around her wrists and ankles, forcing her body into a prone position, forcing her into a vulnerable position, even as she struggles in the dark. A rustling catches her attention, her body tense as she tries to place where the noise came from. She could see nothing in the gloom, no matter how much she tried. Nil's voice slithered through the murk. 
"You're home now, my magnificent queen. Home and safely held, to get you acclimated to life here, to the absence of light." The sound of fabric falling to the ground came from her left, followed by dragging footsteps echoing across the space, Emma's breath coming in panicked gasps. 
She feels the creak of the bed near her feet, a knee against her calf as a feathered hand slid up her thigh. Emma pleads for him to stop, desperately trying to get away from his touch. 
Nil's voice is silky against her hip. "You'll get used to this too, not that I mind. Fighting makes a better future king."
Screams ripped from her throat and he pulled away, hissing at the noise. "Dark One! Hold her mouth silent!"
Killian appears through the darkness, leaning over her as she begs and pleads for this to stop. His eyes glow blue, and they are still so sad as his hand covers her mouth, muffling her voice. He looks close to tears, like he's breaking himself, his hand trembling against her lips while he tries to comfort her even as Nil returns to her thigh.
"Emma, I'm so sorry, Emma, shhhhh, please." The room grows brighter, his eyes are brighter and he is clenching his jaw in fury. Emma can feel the light coming back, but Nil's hands press on, too close to where they should never be, and her begging gets louder along with Killian’s voice right above her, "Emma, are you alright?" 
And no, she isn't, but the room is gone and he's saved her, eyes blue in her blurry vision - 
Waking up in terror after the rum had worn off, Emma had hoped for more sleep, but even the alcohol was unable to combat her nightmare on the deck. The dream continued to plague her, pieces of it making her breath catch until it fades. Killian was in her dreams more frequently since his return, both ambivalent and malicious in each turn. Killian had helped her down into those chambers, and although she still was slightly hazy, it was a welcome change. 
It was odd to be in the room of a person that had changed into a stranger inside his own skin, the remaining discarded bits of what was a life scattered in disarray. Lighting a candle, she looked at the open trunk and the uniform placed reverently over a desk chair, letting her fingers run along the buttons and brush the fringe of the epaulets. The books she had pulled earlier were still out, and she opened dog eared pages, surprised by the different sets of handwriting in the margins.
Sturdy, block text that reminded her of laws and bills that her parents had to sign underlined passages, while a flowery script poked fun at those footnotes. The flowery text seemed to enjoy more poetry and philosophy, which the block text had teased heavily. Based on what she knew, Liam and Killian respectively were the authors, Killian’s text much more chaotic and flamboyant. Another hand's script had joined later, letters beautiful and words softly pushed together. It wrote love notes in the corners, or bracketed passages, occasionally a watercolor picture left tucked neatly in the pages where they wrote paragraphs. Milah, Emma assumed. 
Killian had once painted, she discovered after finding a ribbon bound stack of his work. Pictures of Milah were his main focus, then the water, landscapes, and animals. His work was humorous and surreal on occasion too, and Emma wondered what that man had been like, before everything happened. He had been different then, and it made her feel anxious and vulnerable to wonder if that man was still buried somewhere within the tortured soul she now kept company with. 
Stripping to her shift to combat the last of summer's heat, she laid down on the bunk, surprised at the luxurious nature of the bedding. Here in the cabin, she could better hear the water, waves rocking the ship. Later, she heard his footfalls, opening her eyes briefly as he whispered that she was alright, stroking her hair gently. 
Emma could feel the remnants of the dream, the same as before and the same that had haunted her since she had found herself in Ursula's domain. He kept on with his soothing until the tension in her shoulders fell away, the traced patterns against her scalp in sync with the waves. The ghost of the old Killian still remained, she mused smiling sleepily, the one she could trust. She fell immediately back to sleep, resting for the first time in weeks and dreaming of home. 
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viralnewstime · 5 years
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Fantastic Negrito’s Xavier Dphrepaulezz has been making music for nearly 30 years, but his breakthrough didn’t come until 2015. The Oakland, California musician persevered through a spell of street hustling to land a major label deal in the mid-90s. It would prove an inauspicious partnership – his solo debut flopped and then a devastating car accident put him in a coma towards the end of the decade.
Although he recovered physical strength, he decided to give up on music in 2007 and become a marijuana farmer. But his creative ambitions couldn’t be extinguished and after an emotional reawakening listening to Skip James, he released the debut Fantastic Negrito EP in 2014.
Fantastic Negrito took out NPR’s inaugural Tiny Desk contest in 2015 with a passionate re-interpretation of Delta and Chicago blues that bewitched the judges and resonated around the world. Two albums later, Dphrepaulezz is a two-time Grammy winner – 2016’s The Last Days of Oakland and 2018’s Please Don’t Be Dead both nabbed the Best Contemporary Blues Album gong.
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A strong blues influence runs through his work, following the example of legends James, Robert Johnson, R.L. Burnside, Lead Belly and Howlin Wolf. But Dphrepaulezz’s work also betrays an experimental inclination and incorporates mean electric guitar sounds, drum programming akin to modern hip hop and R&B and Eastern influences.
1. Night Has Turned To Day, Fantastic Negrito (2014)
‘Night Has Turned To Day’ is an apt introduction to Fantastic Negrito’s distinct stylistic slant. It’s a four to the floor blues hoedown with slide guitar, honky tonk piano and a lyrical tale of redemption.
Dphrepaulezz explained the song’s origins during his Tiny Desk showcase: “I spent three weeks in a coma and damaged every part of my body. I wrote this song 10 years afterwards and it’s basically about the things that are messed up in your life, the things that are broken, the things that are fucked up, you take ‘em and you just make them better.”
2. An Honest Man, Fantastic Negrito (2014)
Self-produced and self-released via his Blackball Universe label, the Fantastic Negrito EP illustrated Dphrepaulezz’s determined independence. Details of what built that self-sufficiency can be found in ‘An Honest Man’. A mid tempo ballad with a desperate edge, Dphrepaulezz chronicles the highs and lows of life on the street where violence, drugs and prostitution stimulate excitement and confusion in equal measure.
3. Working Poor, The Last Days Of Oakland (2016)
This lithe blues/funk number kicks off Negrito’s debut LP, lambasting the swelling wage disparity in US cities. Dphrepaulezz’s home city of Oakland has seen sprawling gentrification and urban displacement in recent years, hence the album title. Working Poor’s central refrain, “I keep on knocking but I can’t get in,” pithily sums up the seeming insurmountable chasm between rich and poor.
4. In The Pines (Oakland), The Last Days Of Oakland (2016)
‘In the Pines’ was written in the 1870s and famously revitalised by blues legend Lead Belly in the 1940s. Also known as ‘Black Girl’ and ‘Where Did You Sleep Last Night?’, it’s since been covered by Nirvana, Billy Bragg and Keith Richards.
Fantastic Negrito gives the song an Oakland-centric update, including this stark comment on police brutality: “Black girl, black girl, your man has gone / Now you travel the world alone / You raised your child all by yourself / Then the policeman shot him down.”
5. Lost In A Crowd, The Last Days Of Oakland (2016)
Premiered during FN’s Tiny Desk appearance, ‘Lost In a Crowd’ heralded the sort of heavy blues spirituals that would dominate The Last Days of Oakland. The lyrics are quintessential Negrito, warning against fear’s paralysing potential and underlining existential finitude: “This is your life / Now you’re gone / There’s no tomorrow / It’s here, it’s on.”
6. Plastic Hamburgers, Please Don’t Be Dead (2018)
Album two begins with another potent political message, this time targeting American consumerism, drug addiction, gun availability and governmental manipulation. ‘Plastic Hamburgers’ is also a stomping blues rock number that isn’t too far removed from Lenny Kravitz.
“The ‘Plastic Hamburgers’ riff, that’s blues in E,” Dphrepaulezz told Music Feeds. “Blues in E can stop a war from happening, because we can all get under that human umbrella and all gather round this fire of music.”
7. Bad Guy Necessity, Please Don’t Be Dead (2018)
One of the highlights of the FN repertoire, ‘Bad Guy Necessity’ boasts an exceedingly sleazy groove: “That bass line was written based on the way drug dealers walk in my neighbourhood,” said Dphrepaulezz.
The lyrics are partly inspired by Donald Trump’s incessant deflection of blame and the way his alt-right followers appoint minority communities as their enemies. “Everybody needs a bad guy so they can have a saviour,” said Dphrepaulezz. “It’s the oldest trick in the book.”
Despite referencing such unfortunate features of our present reality, ‘Bad Guy Necessity’ is marked by soulful integrity.
8. A Boy Named Andrew, Please Don’t Be Dead (2018)
An avowed fan of Pakistani vocalist Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and Egyptian oud player Hamza El Din, Dphrepaulezz brings his Eastern influences to bear on ‘A Boy Named Andrew’. Rather than a straight-up tribute, however, the song’s driven by a greater ambition.
“It sounds like this Eastern chant, but I imagine humanity a thousand years ago,” Dphrepaulezz said. “We’re all in front of a fire, all these different people and cultures all together chanting.”
Humans are capable of some truly devastating things, but the chorus stays hopeful: “The wheels of time, they keep on turning / We’re still learning to fly.”
9. Transgender Biscuits, Please Don’t Be Dead (2018)
Six months before Please Don’t be Dead came out, FN jumped on twitter to pose this question: “What do you do after you write a song entitled transgender biscuits?” The titular biscuits don’t actually feature in the body text, but Dphrepaulezz rattles off a list of identifying characteristics to draw attention to the ridiculousness of discrimination. It all occurs over a tilting groove that would ably lend itself to a boom bap re-work.
10. Bullshit Anthem, Please Don’t Be Dead (2018)
We’re back to where we started. The psychological determination underlying ‘Night Turns To Day’ is given a more irreverent voicing on disco-blues number, ‘Bullshit Anthem’. “Take that bullshit and turn it into good shit,” sings Dphrepaulezz. And with Fantastic Negrito as your guide, it shouldn’t be too hard.
Fantastic Negrito return to Australia this month for Byron Bay’s Bluesfest. They have also announced a pair of sideshows in Sydney and Melbourne. Dates below.
Fantastic Negrito Bluesfest 2019 Sideshows
Presented by Music Feeds
Tickets on sale now
Sunday, 14th April Oxford Art Factory, Sydney Tickets: Moshtix
Monday, 15th April The Corner, Melbourne Tickets: Eventbrite
The post Fantastic Negrito: 10 Essential Tracks appeared first on Music Feeds.
from Music Feeds http://bit.ly/2UnjeVw
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ekbirchelps · 6 years
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the magenaza epic: solstice rising excerpt #2
Then she said something that called a bolt of lightning down from the sky.  It was invisible, incorporeal, but i's effects were undeniable; Gareth froze, electricity sparking under his skin. "I think I would rather fancy a kiss from you, Mr. Wintress."  
"What---what did you say?"  His throat was dry and his blood thundered in his veins like a flood. "If you're game, I said I think I wanna kiss from you!"  Sera giggled, swaying back and forth on her feet.  She stared up at Gareth with an expression he'd never caught her wearing before.  "C'mon addlebrain.  It ain't a difficult request." No, it wasn't.  Which made his denial stick in his throat, pitifully unspoken.  She's the enemy! he told himself firmly, even as his legs stepped closer to Sera, uncontrolled. He vaguely wondered whether if this captivation, this yearning was Sera’s magic, if she had enchanted him with her Welkiner soul craft.  Her lips parted slightly as she gazed unabashedly at his, eyes wide with what could've been described as awe.  Surely she could not be admiring him, though.  Not when she, with her fire-lit skin and dry, chapped lips and mesmerizing eyes more beautiful than the most vibrant of stars, was more angelic than any creature in any of the ancient tomes he'd ever read.   Hands slick with sweat, Gareth found that he didn't care if she had bewitched him.  He was close, so close that they were respiring the same air.  Gareth inhaled shallowly, barely daring to even breathe.  Sera smelled like smoke and pine---an oddly heady scent that made his head spin.  She's the enemy, the rational part of his brain reminded him again.  The voice of reason was quieter this time, fading to the back of his mind as Sera reached up, her silver eyes dazed by booze, shining with wonder.  As she touched his cheek, surprisingly gentle for someone three sheets to the wind, the skin under her fingertips seared as if set ablaze.   She's the enemy, he warned himself one more time.  The voice was negligible, nothing but a shadow being burned away by the fire that roared within him.  Sera rose up on her tiptoes, which might've been amusing had Gareth not been one second from spontaneously exploding.  Her lips drew closer, closer, closer . . . Devastation. It was a simple kiss, he decided afterward.  Short, sweet, tasting of booze-flavored ardor.  Some remote, murky part of his brain wondered how she'd gotten so good at kissing---or perhaps he was just tragically, pathetically desperate. Then she was gone, her hair sticking to his cheeks, the ghost of her touch still lingering on his lips.   "Tha' was pretty . . . quiet," she remarked with a lopsided grin. "Well, I'm sorry for not living up to your expectations," Gareth retorted, face burning even hotter when his voice croaked out an octave higher than usual.  "Maybe I should take lessons or something to---" "Jest shut yer face," Sera said breathlessly, and charged in for another kiss. This time, Gareth was marginally more prepared---marginally.  Figuring she wanted some kind of reciprocation (other than unmoving acceptance), he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer.  Sera hummed in response, and happiness bloomed deep in his gut.  This was Sera he was kissing---the vicereine who had tackled him and tried to shake answers out of him upon their first meeting; the vicereine who had saved him from deadly venom of the lindworm; who had defended him, her prisoner, from a horrible fate at the hands of the Solstice League.   Her prisoner.  He was supposed to be a captive.   He stiffened upon the realization, his entire body going rigid in her embrace.  She pulled back, brows furrowed.   "Wha's wrong?" she asked, slapping his arms.  "My kissin' ain't good enough for ya?" "Yes!  I mean, no," Gareth stammered, tugging nervously on his shirt.   Sera's muddled stare hardened.  "I get it," she growled, wiping her mouth rather unnecessarily on her sleeve.  "You're embarrassed by me." "What?  No!" "Don't try'n deny it," Sera snapped, practically quivering with drunken anger.  "Pristine, pure, perfect Garde member Gareth Wintress can't possibly be seen with a dirty mongrel urchin!  What would his friend say?" "Sera, it's not that," Gareth said, regret oozing through him like poison.   She hiccupped, blinking rapidly in what seemed to be a futile effort to clear her blurred vision.  "Th-then what is it?" she asked.   "I . . . I," Gareth started, regret souring into shame in his gut.  Because in reality, he was not a prisoner.  Unbeknownst to Sera or the rest of the League, he could leave whenever he wanted.  But he was hiding more than that.  He was a spy for the government of Elphyne, the very organization which the Solstice League vowed to overthrow.  If he were caught by these burgeoning insurgents, he would most likely be killed.  And if he succeeded, his work here could change the course of his life forever.  Kissing Sera, letting her get closer to him---once Elphyne decided to intervene in the Solstice League’s affairs, a relationship with her like this would be impossible. She would truly be his enemy. Sera's gaze roared like silver fire, then froze like ice. "Yeah.  Tha's wha' I thought." She whirled around, arms windmilling to prevent herself from tumbling to the ground, and staggered away from him. "Can't trust Gareth Wintress!" she slurred to the empty passage.  "He's a backstabbing loyalist!"   "Hey!" Gareth said quickly.  "Someone might hear you!" "Don't tell me what to do!" she snarled, whirling around to face him.  Gareth had spent so long seeing mockery and cynicism in her expression that the genuine hurt in her gaze stung like acid. "I didn't mean that I don't like you," Gareth said somewhat lamely.   "But you don' wanna kiss me?" Sera retorted, contempt oozing from her voice.  The answer to that weighed on Gareth's tongue, unbearably heavy, but unspoken all the same.  He took a deep breath, wishing that he could make that look on Sera's face disappear forever.  "You have taken me as a captive from my home," he pointed out. Although his voice was quiet, it filled up the cave, leaving a constant roar in his ears.
“I didn’t have a choice!” Sera protested. “They were . . . I can’t---”
“You can’t what?” Gareth said, tone growing stronger, sharper. “You can’t let me go? You can, Sera! All you have to do is say the words.” He stepped toward her,  hand outstretched. In it, Gareth offered her his heart, defenseless, sincere. “You can come with me, you and your sister both. We can escape to Avalon. You’ll be safe there.” 
For a long moment, Sera just looked at him, eyes wide, more vulnerable than he had ever seen her. “No.”
One word. That was all it took to rend Gareth’s heart in half. Resentment, built up after so many weeks of captivity, bolted through him unchecked. 
Who are you really angry at? a voice in the back of his head asked. Do you resent Sera, for doing her duty? Or do you resent yourself, for doing yours and getting close to Sera despite it? 
  He started toward her again, hands clenched into fists. “Let me go!”
“No!” Sera turned away, jaw clenched. 
“Sera---“
“Be quiet!” Her magic rippled the bond between them, twisting up his torso and wrapping around throat like a noose. Silencing him.
Then Sera turned and stumbled away, using the passage wall to guide her deeper into the cave and out off sight. 
Gareth closed his eyes, inhaling deeply in the dark quiet. Calming. Focusing. Burrowing more deeply into the solitude of his own mind. 
He’d given her an offer and she’d rejected it. Rejected him. What did he expect? Perhaps acceptance or joy. Perhaps a softening of the bitterness that’d tormented for so long. Whatever the case, he’d been wrong. Sera was set in her ways. She would stay. He would call down the forces of Avalon to put an end to the activities of the Solstice League. If she or her companions fought it, well . . . she’d brought the consequence upon herself.     
If Serafa wanted to play in silence, he’d bring about a pandemonium like she’d never known.   
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