#their songs are both hauntingly beautiful and make you feel like you got hit by a truck

[arrenkae]

#music #daily dose of good songs #this band is insanely good #their songs are both hauntingly beautiful and make you feel like you got hit by a truck #every single one is a masterpiece #i am not exaggerating #Youtube

[sinner-as-saint]

‘Till We Bleed Out - 2.

Vampire!bucky x reader AU

Part 2 of this series. 

Run-through: Your car breaks down on a deserted road on a rainy night. You have no other option but to seek shelter from the nearest house you could find; the mansion, which happened to be the talk of the town for its mysteriousness along with its equally mysterious owner, Mr. Barnes. The universe can be tricky sometimes but the fact that you found yourself at that mansion’s doorstep at that time was no simple coincidence. That one night changes everything forever - quite literally. True love, past lives and creatures from folklore; turns out it’s all real. 

Themes throughout the series: vampire!bucky, fluff, smut, angst 

You woke up realizing that you had surprisingly fallen soundly asleep last night, after the strange dream about the handsome man; who was kind enough to let you take shelter from the storm in his home. 

Speaking of the storm, you got out of bed and walked over to the window, pulling the curtain aside. You noticed that the weather was even worse than last night. Heavy rain, and nonstop thunder. Although, it seemed like a very cozy day to just stay inside. You sigh with a soft smile on, perhaps you’d get to know more about Bucky today. 

You turned back around and noticed something you hadn’t last night. Roses on the nightstand, as red as blood and just as hauntingly beautiful. Your smile grew; there was something enchanting about red roses. A bunch of it looked like the embodiment of poetry and there was no other way you could explain it. 

You approached the flowers and inhaled their fresh scent. Oh how you loved them! How come you didn’t notice they were on the nightstand? Anyways, you walked into the bathroom and brushed, showered and were about to change into another pair of sweatpants when you noticed more clothes in the closets. A sundress caught your eye and you decided to wear it. It fit you perfectly. You twirled in front of the mirror, checking yourself out when Wanda walked into the room. 

“I see you’re up, Miss.” she smiled at you. And you noticed she had the same look in her eyes, like Bucky did. That of sadness, or helplessness. But you tried ignoring it. 

“Good morning.” You gave her your best smile and noticed how she took in your appearance. 

“You look lovely. Anyways, I came to let you know that breakfast is ready. Mr. Barnes is waiting for you downstairs in the dining room. Come down whenever you’re ready.”  

Wanda left and the brief mention of Bucky brought back the memories of last night’s dream. It was definitely weird that you had such an explicit dream about him, but the weirdest thing was that you were not feeling the slightest bit guilty about it. 

You took a deep breath and stepped out of the room. You made your way downstairs, leisurely. Taking in more of the décor and the paintings on the wall. These must have cost a fortune, you thought. 

You found Bucky in the dining room, sitting at one of the ends of the large table. You had to admit, even the furniture in this house seemed pricey. Bucky set the newspaper down upon seeing you. He let his eyes roam your frame quickly and his smile broadened. “You look lovely,” he commented. 

You smiled, just a little shy and whispered a ‘thank you’. As you took a seat on his left, he spoke again. “The storm intensified. Looks like you’re not going home today.” he said with a genuine smile. You began to oppose naturally but he insisted. “You’ll be safe here.” 

You agreed. You picked a few food items from the large trays and took a few bites while Bucky got back to his newspaper. The silence was comfortable, the two of you seemed perfectly alright with sharing the space without feeling the need to fill the void with any conversation. It felt like this was part of your routine almost. 

You sipped on coffee and discreetly lifted your eyes to look at Bucky. He munched on a piece of fruit while focusing on some article in the papers. His body language made him look like an older man; eating while reading his newspaper. But his face didn’t look a day over 35. The contrast made you giggle and that caught his attention. 

He turned to face you with a raised eyebrow. “Something funny, miss?” he sounded like he was teasing you, politely. 

You shook your head and set your cup down, and upon doing so you noticed the red roses in a vase in front of you, again. The sudden urge to ask a question took over you, “Your wife, did she like red roses?” 

“They were her favorite.” He seemed unfazed by your sudden curiosity. 

“What was she like?” you asked again and the smitten smile on his face gave away how much he loved her. Love like this was rare, and you felt just a little envious of the late woman. She was so lucky, you hoped she knew. 

“Like the answer to all my prayers. Beautiful. Every little thing about her was so, so beautiful. She was kind, smart and funny, and fierce. She made me a better man. She was delightful.” You noticed he looked you right in the eyes as he spoke. His answer gave away that he worshipped that woman. 

“I hope she knew how much you love her.” 

He gave you that soft smile again. “I made sure to remind her every single day.” 

-

You never knew rainy days could be so lovely. After breakfast Bucky offered to show you his library because of course he owned one. And you had the time of your life just walking around and running your fingers over some of your favorite books. 

You noticed red roses on the coffee table as well, by the couches in his study room/library. While reaching for a copy of Pride and Prejudice, your hand brushed with his and your whole body felt like it was electrified. You pulled away sheepishly, but he held it up to you and you took it with a smile, admiring the front cover. 

“Your favorite?” he asked. 

You nodded, excitedly. He let out a little laugh. “You can have this one. I have plenty of other copies.” 

You smiled so big your cheeks hurt. “Thank you, Buck.” you were so excited that you walked past him, hungry to explore the other side of his library - without realizing what you just called him. 

Meanwhile Bucky was both surprised and elated. Buck… no one called him that except for-

“What’s in there?” he heard your voice and turned around immediately. You were pointing at the partially hidden door at the end of the room. “That’s where you hide all your secrets?” you teased, using the same tone he did this morning. 

He laughed and nodded. “Yes, you caught me.” 

You two shared a laugh and then he insisted that you should see the piano room. You agreed and just as everything else in the house, the grand room was equally as breathtaking. White couches, brown pillows, plants, full of light even with the stormy weather and a large balcony adjoined to it. Perfect. 

“It’s beautiful,” you said as you admired the room. You could hear the heavy rain hitting the window panes, it was comforting. You noticed the well-maintained piano right by the door which led to the balcony, “Do you play?” you asked and he gave you a dramatic look which gave away that you had just bruised his ego. 

“Miss Y/N, how dare you question my skills?” He answered with a smile on, then proceeded to play the most melodic tune you had ever heard. You weren’t much of a musical person, but you knew a melancholic tune when you heard one. It was, as most things in this house, hauntingly beautiful. Even the music carried a sense of nostalgia, and homesickness. 

You closed your eyes for a moment, getting lost in the music which filled the room effortlessly. Familiar, very familiar. Then it hit you - this was the same song being played at that ball in your dream. You opened your eyes immediately, baffled at the weird coincidences taking place lately. 

You found yourself gravitating towards the bench, and eventually you sat beside Bucky. He looked at you for a brief moment, then resumed playing somewhat of a softer tune. You smiled at him and suddenly it all felt like a déjà-vu. Like you’ve lived this exact moment a hundred times before. Sitting next to him, your elbows brushing, him looking at you lovingly, yet with sad eyes. His cologne, the slight gray in his eyes, the weather - it felt like a forgotten dream was coming back to you. 

You had to find something to say otherwise you felt like you were about to lose your mind. “You said you worked all day everyday. So is today your day off?” you tried to lighten the mood. 

He let out a little laugh. “Like I said, I rarely get visitors. I’m just making the most out of your company.” 

He was drop dead gorgeous, and he could make your heart race with just a few simple words. A dangerous combination really. 

He kept playing as you walked around the room, taking in every little detail. This was the only room in the house which had white roses in the vase, instead of dark red ones. Well, the white ones matched the interior better here. Your gaze fell upon something interesting next. 

“Vinyl records?” that seemed to catch his undivided attention as he stopped playing and turned to you. 

“Oh yes. It was one of my… old hobbies.” He answered. 

You giggled. “You say old hobbies like you are over a hundred years old.” 

He chuckled and got up from the bench. He walked over to where the records were kept, picked one out and carefully placed it down on the record player. A soothing tune filled the room again. Much lighter and happier than the piano earlier. A stark contrast to the gloomy weather but it still, somehow, fit perfectly. 

Bucky extended his arm out in front of you, out of nowhere. “Dance with me.” 

You didn’t hesitate for a single and took his hand immediately. Bucky held you close; his hand at your waist pressing your body to his gently. His other hand held yours delicately. Your arm placed over his shoulder as you stared into his deep, piercing eyes. And just like that, you two swayed slowly to the sweet, slow music. Effortlessly, gracefully and without any awkwardness or hesitation. Almost like you’ve danced a thousand times before. 

You giggled as he twirled you around and pulled you closer almost immediately. And when you looked back up into his eyes, it felt like a déjà-vu again. Only this time, you knew where you had experienced something similar to this - in your dream last night. The ballroom, the gown, the way you danced. Just like this. 

Your body tensed up and you weren’t blinking, Bucky caught the change in your behavior. “Don’t think about it.” he murmured. 

“About what?” you used a much softer tone as well. You and him were so close you could whisper and you were sure he would hear you perfectly. 

“Whatever it is you’re thinking about.” He spoke as he swayed you gently. “You’re here, with me. I don’t want you to think about anything else.” It sounded more like a plea than a request. There was something else he was trying to say; inexplicable, hidden in between the lines. Somehow you caught it. 

You nodded. “I’m here.” You spoke without paying much attention to what you were saying or doing. “With you.” All that mattered in the world right now was that you were in his embrace. His ocean blue eyes were the only thing you could make sense of. 

You felt it then. The warmth, despite his cold hands. The sparks flying around, despite the dark and gloomy weather outside. He started leaning in and you met him halfway. 

His hand moved up to gently cup your face. His lips brushed against yours briefly as he paused and waited to see if you would pull away. Seeing you didn’t, he pressed his lips to yours. You shivered at how delicately he caressed your cheek with his thumb. Kissing him felt natural. Like a habit. His lips were soft and familiar. He tightened his grip around your waist, pulling you closer. 

Your hands instinctively slid into his hair, he moaned under his breath as you tugged on it gently.  Bucky tilted his head to the side and deepened the kiss, nibbling on your lips and gently stroking your lower lip with his tongue. You felt giddy and warm. And safe. 

He pulled away just a second before Wanda stepped into the room. “Dinner’s ready.” 

Bucky told her you two would be downstairs in a minute and you caught that look on her face. A look of pure joy and satisfaction. You didn’t understand why. 

When Wanda left, you faced Bucky again, now just a little nervous. “I.. I didn’t-,” 

He silenced you by gently holding your chin in between his fingers. “Shh sweetheart.” His gaze spoke volumes; he was perfectly alright with this kiss. “We should go downstairs.” 

Dinner was perfect. Lovely conversation, lovely wine, the same stormy weather outside but inside Bucky’s home; all was well. He told you that you were more than welcome to use his library if you wished to do some light reading before bed. You agreed. 

You grabbed a book and curled up on one of the couches and he did the same, sitting right across you. You found yourself re-reading the same sentence over and over again because you couldn’t focus. Not when you could physically feel his eyes on you. You even caught him staring a few times and giggled whenever he seemed flustered after being caught. 

There was ease between you two. And the next two hours went by comfortably. 

“It’s late, I should go to bed.” You spoke as you stood up. He did as well, and when you looked into his eyes you began wishing that this storm outside lasts forever. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He whispered, leaning in and kissing you at the side of your mouth. 

“Goodnight.” 

-

You tossed and turned in bed. Somehow, falling asleep was a little harder today because you couldn’t help but think about how it felt when Bucky kissed you earlier. The sound of the harsh storm echoed inside the house, but it was still comforting. 

The loud roar of the thunder was the last thing you heard before drifting off to sleep; dreaming again, this time of red roses, blue eyes, balconies and paintings… 

Arms wrapped around you from behind, embracing you in a tight hug. “Do you like it, my love?” the silky smooth voice asked. You looked down and you smiled at the sight of the wedding band on his finger. 

“I love it.” You looked up at the frame hung on the wall. It was a painting of you and your husband, delivered to you that morning itself. “We’ll keep it here forever.” 

You heard a soft chuckle, then felt a pair of lips kissing your neck softly. “Even longer.” 

You turned around and came face to face with Bucky, with slightly longer hair, tied in a low, neat ponytail. Behind him was a very familiar door. You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. “We should get going, else we’ll be late.” 

The surroundings faded, and you were now inside a dimly lit ballroom. The grand chandelier was mesmerizing, but not more than your husband’s eyes. He was gorgeous, your man; even with half his face covered by the masquerade mask he was still perfectly able to take your breath away. 

He smirked, as though able to read your thoughts. He leaned in, and the rest of your surroundings was suddenly a blur. “Do you wish for us to go somewhere more private, sweetheart?” He whispered in your ear. 

You bit your lip and nodded, only then realizing that you were wearing a mask as well. Bucky smiled, tugging on your hand and dragging you along to wherever it is he was taking you. 

The room around you morphed again and you found yourself running up a staircase with Bucky, giggling and holding onto each other for dear life until you finally made it to the top. You found yourself on a balcony. 

“Where are we?” you asked. 

Bucky stepped closer, pushing you gently against the balustrade. “Home.” He leaned in and kissed you. His mouth moved against yours gently, passionately. His hands were on either side of your waist as he pressed you further into him. Your hands instinctively went to his neck as you gently pulled him closer.

As you closed your eyes and cherished his touch, an image of the painting from earlier flashed in front of your eyes. But you forgot it just as quickly as it came because Bucky’s touch took over all your senses. His hand slipped under your dress, and went right to your wet core. 

You giggled into the kiss as his knuckles brushed faintly against your core and you moaned at his touch. He cupped you in between the legs and the palm of his hand pressed against your throbbing clit. His mere touch was driving you insane. His lips left yours and he kissed his way to your neck; sharp teeth nipping at your skin. At the feel of it, your own canines sharpened out of nowhere. 

Surprisingly, it didn’t feel like it was the first time that it happened. You seemed comfortable with the sudden change. 

Bucky kissed all the spots which made you weak in the knees; he knew your body by heart it seemed. While he kissed your skin, his fingers moved slightly against your dripping core. You moaned, tugging on his hair just a little. 

“Be quiet for me, sweetheart.” he mumbled against your skin as he slipped two fingers past your folds. He curled his fingers inside you immediately, and stroked your walls gently. You moved your hips against his hand as you chased your orgasm. His thumb rubbed your swollen clit furiously as you bit your lip to keep you from moaning. 

“Buck…” you were breathless, each nerve ending on fire as pleasure washed over you. 

“Shh sweetheart,” he quickened his actions and slipped his fingers in and out of you incessantly until he felt your walls clench around him. “Cum for me,” he whispered. You moaned, biting your lower lip as you came all over his hand. 

Once you recovered, he pulled your dress up, making it bunch around your waist as he stepped in between your legs again; kissing you like his life depended on it. He undid his pants and hoisted you up his own body. You wrapped your legs around his waist quickly for better balance and he leaned the two of you against the balustrade once again. 

You felt his hard cock pressing against your skin as he kissed you hungrily. His hand dipped in between the two of you and he guided the tip of his erected cock over to your dripping entrance. The brief friction caused you to moan into his mouth. 

“Be quiet for me, yes?” he spoke against your lips, almost as breathless as you were. You nodded frantically. And with that, he pushed himself inside you quickly. You felt all of him once he was completely buried in you. His cock twitched inside you and you bit your lip to prevent a moan from escaping your lips.

He held your hips, and your hands gripped his shoulders desperately as you tried to keep your voice down. You pushed your face into the crook of his neck, nibbling on his skin with your sharp fangs as he rocked in and out of you. You moaned quietly against his skin as his throbbing cock sped up into you. He pounded into you relentlessly, earning more and more moans and gasps out of you. 

He growled when he felt you clench around him. “Bucky…” you moaned and he immediately placed his lips on yours to stop you from making more noise. He loved how you lost control under his touch. He loved the sound of his name leaving your lips. 

“Shh, sweetheart. Quiet,” he mumbled against your lips as he felt your walls milking him perfectly. “We can’t get caught fucking in our own balcony while we were supposed to be hosting a party downstairs.” He ended with a chuckle. 

You whined. “Well if you weren’t so insatiable,” you teased. He scoffed, holding you at the curve of your ass, hands under your dress as he occasionally squeezed your butt cheeks, making you giggle and moan at the same time. 

“Says the one who lures me in like a seductress every moment of every day,” he sassed back. He slammed into you relentlessly while you tried your hardest to not to scream out loud. You felt a pressure building between your hips, and it seemed like he felt it as well because he dipped his head into the crook of your neck and swore under his breath as he sped up again. 

Your thoughts became cloudy, and all that you could focus on in that moment was the force of his thrust. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you found yourself unable to form proper thoughts. Your clit rubbed against his pelvic bone each time he filled you up.

Your body moved along with his like a rag doll as you could no longer keep up with his thrust. Soon, you felt the warmth taking over. And a familiar tingle went down your spine as your walls clenched around him. You gushed out all over his cock with a loud moan… 

 You woke up gasping, shocked that you had dreamt such explicit dreams two nights in a row now. You looked around and realized that it was still night time. You could still replay the dream in your head like a vivid memory. You closed your eyes and took deep breaths. 

The painting. 

The painting seemed so real, so detailed. You wondered if- 

Wait, that door you dreamt of. You’ve seen it before, haven’t you? Large, dark wood with beautifully detailed carvings on it, golden doorknob… 

You gasped again. It was the door in the library. Your heart raced. Could it be… ? 

You didn’t think twice before getting out of bed, grabbing the robe Wanda had left you earlier you stepped out of the room. Your breaths got shallower and shallower as you reached the library. 

It could very well be just a weird dream, right? You jumped at the sound of the thunder, and realized that you were already inside the library. You stared at the door. This was the exact one you dreamt of. 

Fuck it. You walked towards it, blocking out any thoughts which told you to turn back around and get back in bed. You twisted the doorknob and it was unlocked. You pushed the door open, stepping inside you found a secret room. About the same size of the library, or maybe slightly more spacious. 

It looked like a more modern and luxurious version of a drawing room. With the usual, couches, carpets and… and paintings. For a moment you almost didn’t want to find it. You didn’t want to find that painting of you and Bucky; which you had just dreamt of because if or when you do, what then? 

You looked around, the light from the two chandeliers illuminating the room just right. There were regular paintings one would find in an expensive mansion like this one; views of countryside, mountains, rivers. There were some paintings of people you couldn’t recognize but you knew, deep inside, that they seemed familiar. 

You almost let out a sigh of relief when you didn’t find the painting from your dream. 

Almost. 

But then you saw it. The largest frame in the room. Right above the golden fireplace, mounted on the wall perfectly straight and right in the center of the room. 

It was the painting you dreamt of. The one of you and Bucky. 

“What the hell?” you whispered as you approached the fireplace, craning your head up to look at the oddly familiar painting. 

You two seemed so happy. You were in a rose gold gown, and Bucky was well-dressed in navy blue. A lovely moment in time, captured in a beautiful painting. You weren’t quite sure what to think as you looked at yourself in the painting. 

Your eyes instinctively trailed down to the bottom on the frame. And in cursive black painted were written the words which gave you goosebumps: ‘Mr. & Mrs. Barnes. 1872.’ 

“What the hell?” you repeated. 

This time you heard a voice speak up, from behind you. “You should be in bed, sweetheart.” He said softly. 

You turned around and found Bucky leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed and a look on his face which you couldn’t quite decipher. You turned to look back at the painting, and then back at him again. He hadn’t aged since 1872 it seemed. 

Your heart raced again. 

It couldn’t be… could it? 

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #vampire!bucky #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #marvel #bucky barnes x you

[blitheringmcgonagall]

My Gallant Lad - Part III

So I got a wonderful anon telling me that this is their favourite Lily Rescues James fics, it’s part of my canon maraders fic  We Can Be Heroes. But, because it works as a stand alone, I’ll be posting it here in four parts. I hope you enjoy it! Set during first wizarding war, Lily is very BAMF (but tbh so is James)

Read part I here : After their worst row ever, Lily and James get captured by Voldemort

Read part II here : James tries to save Lily

TW: angsty and violence

PART III

Lily’s raw voice echoed through the castle walls, a lone, hauntingly beautiful gaelic song. The words indecipherable to any of the Death-Eaters who heard it, yet clearly a lament of some kind. She hadn’t been able to stand it, hearing James’ screams, imagining what was happening to him. And when she couldn’t hear him, dread clawing at her every pore, wondering…

Are you dead, my love? Did they kill you? Please don’t die, I beg you!

Haunted by the silence, almost relieved when his screams returned, because she was selfish and wanted him alive, needing him to be alive… almost immediately replaced by rage and terror and guilt and begging them to leave her husband alone, screaming herself hoarse.

She couldn’t stand it when the sound from the dungeons suddenly stopped – a spell, she was sure.

What did it mean? Was he-

She started to sing. She sang in Irish. Fuck them, no Death-Eater could get inside her head now. She pictured him as she sang, her lively lad, turning around mid-laughter and catching her eyes as he and Sirius poked fun at each other, she saw him saying something ridiculous to Minnie and watching as the strict teacher’s mouth broke into a huge grin despite herself, saw all the Marauders chasing each other and yelling and James landing on top of the others. And always his mischievous, adoring eyes turned to her, searched for her. She saw him propose to her surrounded by fireflies, vividly heard that muggle record, the lyrics bittersweet…

”Yours in the gray of December Here, or on far distant shores I've never loved anyone the way I love you

Yours to the end of life's story”

“No!” her voice faltered. “No! Not today!”

She breathed in sharply, as someone knocked on the door, twice, in abrupt succession. She recognised that trademark sound.

“Severus?” she croaked.

Severus pushed the heavy door slowly, almost reluctantly, now that it came to it. He looked uncharacteristically agitated, his waxy cheeks flushed. Relief swept over him as he looked at Lily. She looked upset but safe. She was shackled to the wall, her hands above her head, tied together. She was trembling and pale. There was no sign of the Cruciatus, or other dark magic.

“Are you alright, Lily?” He said, hurriedly throwing a potent heating charm at her.

“What are you doing here?” Lily’s husky voice surprised him, he hadn’t heard her screaming.

“What happened? Did they hurt you?” Severus said, moving closer to Lily and regarding her anxiously. “They hurt me by hurting him,” she whispered.

Tears tracked down her cheek, and Severus wiped it with his thumb. “I’m so sorry, Lily,” he said, his voice trembling – he was slightly scared of her, and then there was unexpected guilt - guilt about lying, guilt about how James was going to die. “I tried to... I tried...”

He stopped and took a few breaths, looking at the ground.

“I tried to save him, I tried some healing charms and... and I sent the others away. I wasn’t sure what to do, Lily, but then I was called away and Avery had... I was too late, Lily, I’m so sorry.”

He couldn’t look at her.

“No, Sev, please, not James, please,” Lily’s broken whisper made Severus’ heart ache.

“I’m so sorry, I’m... you don’t know how sorry I am,” Severus whispered back. “I’m desperately sorry.”

Lily didn’t say anything, silent tears streaming down her face.

“He... James and I, he spoke to me, he thanked me for trying to save him, before he... he asked me to save you, to get you out of here. I promised him I’d do it. Do you understand Lily?” She was looking at him blankly, through her tears, her mind far away in some distant time or place. “Lily!” Severus whispered urgently. “Lily, he wanted you to be safe! He insisted I save you! He told me a code word - I’ve no idea what he meant, but he said to tell you - Graham’s Number.“ “Graham’s Number,” Lily repeated quietly, as though dazed. “James.” “Yes, James,” Severus said, trying not to sound impatient. “We have to leave now, I promised him I’d get you out of here! Do you understand?”

Lily nodded, still crying.

“My beautiful,” she said. “My gallant lad.”

“Yes, yes,” Severus said, eying the door of the cell. “We need to leave! Now! If Voldemort finds us, we’re both dead!”

Lily stared at him intently. After a few seconds she smiled vaguely.

“I’m so sorry Sev, let’s go, I just... it’s so much to take in, you know? I can never thank you enough, for trying to save him, for being such a noble person?”

Severus squirmed.

“It means everything to me,” she said, her red-rimmed eyes looking into his soul.

“It’s nothing,” he said firmly, refusing to hold eye contact and pointing his wand at the chains. “Frangit!”

The chains broke, and Lily collapsed into Severus’ arms.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “Can you help me? I don’t think I can walk?”

“Of course!” Severus said, feeling a bloom of warmth spread through his chest.

This was what he had longed for, desperately, for as long as he could remember – Lily, holding onto him, needing him, weaker than him, reliant on him, asking him, begging him for his help. He tucked his wand in his pocket and lifted her up, looking lovingly into her stunning eyes. Surely she could also feel the deep attraction between them, the passion sizzling beneath their fingertips?

“Lily,” he murmured, bringing their lips closer.

“Severus?” she said hoarsely.

“I love you, Lily Evans,” he said, holding her closer. “I always have.”

“Your idea of love sickens me, but I’m glad you’re so predictable, Severus.”

Lily’s voice was cold as she stepped back from him in disgust, and he found himself staring at the tip of his own wand.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he said, his heart pounding as he tried to make sense of what was happening.

“Change of plan, Snape!” Lily said. “You don’t get to sweep me away like a lying bastard-“

“Your husband agreed to this! It was his idea!” Severus’ voice rose.

“Gobshites, the pair of you!” Lily said, her voice quivering with rage. “Probably one of the only things you two ever agreed on - that James Potter should sacrifice himself to save me? That James Potter was expendable, that I would cope without him?” Severus dropped his gaze in the face of such fierceness. “You see, I’m not leaving here without James. If he’s dead, and you better hope to fuck he isn’t, I’m still bringing him with me. He means more to me than anyone else, everything else, in the entire world. I’m not leaving my soulmate to rot in this hell!”

Severus looked at her hand with trepidation as she aimed at his chest.

“I was trying to save you, Lily,” he said, stepping away from her.

“Trying to save me for yourself, Severus! Killing my husband was never going to buy you my love!” Lily’s green eyes were incandescent.

“I didn’t… I had no part in it, it was Hugo Avery!” he said.

“No part at all? That’s strange,” Lily sneered. “Because your friend Hugo payed me a lengthy visit which only finished a short while ago, you practically overlapped.”

Snape’s eyes widened with surprise and alarm.

“He wasn’t meant to go near you!” he said.

“He did,” Lily said, shuddering despite herself. “Came in to tell me everything he was planning on doing to my husband, and later on, to me. It took rather a long time.”

“What do you think you’re-“ Severus said in fear, as Lily lifted his wand.

“I’m sorry, Severus,” Lily’s voice was hard and implacable. “Imperio!”

Continue reading BAMF Lily here

Snape’s eyes widened for a split second as the invisible spell hit his chest (so powerful it almost threw him backwards) before they seemed to fade, the fear in them replaced by a dullness.

His hands fell by his side. “Is this castle surrounded by anti-apparition wards?” she asked.

“Yes, and the nearby forest,” Snape answered mechanically.

“Where can we use a portkey?” Lily ordered, poking Snape with her wand.

“From the courtyard in front of the main entrance.”

She hated the strange empty look in his eyes, as though he was unable to think for himself and devoid of any thoughts at all, until commanded by her to do so. She hated it.

“Good,” she said. “Now you will do exactly as I say! You will bring me to the oubliette, and you will help me save my husband if it’s the last thing you do! But first, you will bring me to your potions lab!”

                                                             ********

“Step away from Potter, now! I’m taking over!” Avery’s head jerked upwards in shock as Snape landed with a heavy thud right beside him, closely followed by Lily Evans, who had a glazed look in her eyes.

“She’s under the Imperius,” Snape added, glancing around at the other men.

“Snape?” Avery said, glaring aggressively at the half-blood. “What the fuck are you doing here? You said I could finish him off?”

“Change of plan!” Snape said, sounding furious. “Back the fuck away from him now, or you’re a dead man!”

“What?” said Avery. “Why?”

“The Dark Lord wants to take over torturing Potter and Evans himself, he needs to find out about his missing book. He will be livid if Potter is dead or unable to answer him! I mean murderous.”

Avery looked terrified.

“Fuck! Snape, you said...” Avery whispered hoarsely.

“You fool, you should have thought to check with your Master before you went this far! If I were you, I’d make myself scarce, unless you want to face the Dark Lord’s wrath!” Snape hissed.

Avery had never seen Snape look so imposing, so powerful. He looked like he wanted to obliterate them all.

“Shit! I... but what if he asks who...” Avery stammered.

“I’ll cover for you as best I can, but I suggest you leave until he calms down, unless you want to risk being here when he loses it,” Snape said, looking at Avery as though he detested him.

“Fuck. Okay. Thank you, Cerberus,” Avery said, frantically grabbing his cloak and stepping across James’ body as he latched onto the rope ladder and sped upwards. “Fuck Voldemort, I hate that bastard!”

Nobody answered, aware that Avery was extremely unwise in voicing his feelings about the Dark Lord’s unpredictable behaviours.

“Severus, you moronic shit,” Severus said between his teeth. Mulciber and Rosier snorted, enjoying Snape’s irritation. “You two better help me get Potter looking more presentable and less dead, unless you too want to join Avery and get AK’ed to hell!” Snape whirled around menancingly. The two men looked at him blankly.

“You don’t think the Dark Lord is actually going to forgive Avery, do you, you pathetic fools?” Snape scoffed dangerously. “Throw every healing spell you can think of at this traitor, and I’ll see what I can do for you two imbeciles!” Rosier cleared his throat and looked stunned. Mulciber glared at Snape.

“We hardly did anything!” he said. “You probably did more of the Crucios than we did!”

“I presume you haven’t forgotten that the Dark Lord is an extraordinarily gifted Legilimens?” Snape smiled thinly, sticking the tip of his wand into Mulciber’s abdomen. “He’s going to die of blood loss, not of Crucios, obviously, you fool! Care to tell him yourself the extent of your role in this… shambles?”

Mulciber’s lips thinned and he shook his head.

“Thought as much,” Snape replied smugly. “Mulciber, get me the blood replenishing potion immediately. Rosier, give me a hand here – Vulnera Sanentur over his entire body, Brackium Emendo over his ankles, quickly!”

Rosier nodded his head and started firing healing spells anxiously. Snape did the same, deep in concentration, his wand flying over James’ body. Mulciber reappeared moments later, holding a half-empty bottle of dark red liquid. Snape grabbed it off him wordlessly and carefully placed three drops into James’ mouth, scanning his face anxiously. Blood trickled from James’ right ear.

“Still looks pretty moribund to me,” he muttered to himself, touching James’ hands tenderly.

James’ fingers felt frozen, white, almost blue.

“Perhaps Rosier should come with you?” Mulciber asked, inching backwards towards the rope ladder.

Snape’s lip curled.

“Don’t be pathetic, Rosier is a liability, and far too skinny to be able to lift Potter. I need you with me,” he ordered.

Mulciber opened his mouth.

“The Dark Lord specifically asked that you accompany me,” Snape said. “He said he may need our help in questioning Potter, that’s if he isn’t already dead by the time we get there. We need to hurry!”

Mulciber swallowed.

“Now help me lift Potter, and for fuck’s sake be careful, he’s perilously close to death as it is!” Snape said.

#ha! #BAMF Lily #she is mad as hell #watch out #part IV soon #angsty jily #defying voldemort #Jily #canon jily #BAMF Jily #not for you if you like Sn*pe #stand alone story #from we can be heroes #WCBH

[rhys-writes-sometimes]

Music Worth Making Part 3: I Got The Music

Requested: sort of?

Warnings: death, mentions of child abuse, painful memories, more bad writing

Series Summery: When the reader’s life is ripped away from them, they’re distraught. But with her two best friends and three certain ghosts, maybe the afterlife isn’t so bad after all. 

Chapter Summery: After landing back in Rose’s studio, you remember her and her kindness. The boys find you and try to comfort you. Julie finds out that she can still see you.

Words: 2176

A/N: Sorry, I really suck at writing summaries. Also, this chapter is sort of divided into two parts, so the next part will be a sort of part 2 to this chapter. I'm not super happy with the ending of this chapter, but oh well. Also, the reader’s memories are italicized in this chapter

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Masterlist

______________________________________________________

You were falling, falling through nothing and everything at the same time. You screamed, but the sound died as soon as it left your mouth. There was nothing around you but blackness, the void surrounding you threatening to swallow you whole if it hadn’t already. 

And just as soon as it had begun, it stopped. 

You landed with a thud on the familiar floor of Julie’s studio. Grimacing with the pain of landing on a hard floor and the memories made here, you slowly sat up. Tears threatened to spill over as you remembered how things were before Rose died. 

-----

“Come on in,” Julie said, setting down her backpack by the door. You hesitated before setting yours down as well. You had just moved to Los Angeles from Maine, so you didn’t have many friends yet. In fact, Julie and her best friend, Flynn, were your only friends. 

“Do you want anything to eat?” Julie asked, opening the fridge and pulling out a snack. 

“Oh, no thank you, I’m fine.” You smiled at the girl. 

“Mija, who’s this?” A woman, who you judged to be Julie’s mother, walked into the kitchen.

“Oh, mom, this is Olivia. She’s new,” Julie said, gesturing to you. You blushed slightly and went to shake the woman’s hand. 

“Hi, I’m Rose, Julie’s mom.”

“I’m Olivia. I- I hope it’s okay that I came over…”

“Of course! We love when Julie’s friends come over!” The woman smiled at you, kindness warming her eyes. You smiled genuinely for the first time in a long time. 

-----

A few months later, you were seated at the piano in Rose’s studio, running your fingers over the keys admirably. 

“Oh, do you play?” the woman asked, walking in to check on you, Julie, and Flynn, who were doing their homework over on the couch. 

“Oh! Oh, no, I don’t.” You found yourself stepping away from the piano as Rose walked over to it. 

“Would you like to learn how?”

Your eyes widened as you nodded yes. Rose laughed slightly and waved you back over. Hesitantly, you sat down next to the woman. 

She placed her hands on top of yours, guiding your fingers in playing your first ever piano piece. The melody was hauntingly beautiful. You held your breath as she helped you play, not wanting to disturb the magic that was clearly there. Even the birds had stopped singing to listen. 

She pulled her hands away as the last note echoed around the room. You looked at her with wide eyes.

 “Help me play it again.”

She laughed. Getting up from the piano bench, she walked over to a box filled with paper. Pulling a piece out, she handed it to you. 

“Here’s the sheet music for it, so you can play it anytime.” She smiled at you, but frowned slightly as you stared at the paper. “Do you know how to read sheet music?”

You looked at her and nodded, your eyes still wide. “This…. This is handwritten,” you started, gesturing to the piece of paper you held in your hands. “Did you write it?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Wow,” you breathed, even more in awe of the woman then you were before. “I’m gonna practice it every day that I can so I never forget it!”

The woman chuckled. “You’re already a natural. You’ll have it perfected in no time.”

You blushed slightly as she walked out of the studio. 

-----

Over the next few months, you grew even closer to the Molina family, hanging out at their house and in the studio everyday. Sometimes you even brought Danny with you, and on those nights you slept over at their house. 

Danny and Carlos had become best friends, just as you, Julie, and Flynn had. They had become a family to you. 

Which made you more nervous to tell them that you were non-binary. 

You started off telling just Julie and Flynn, one day after school. You were shaking with nerves, and nothing they could say would help calm you down.

Eventually, you just said it. 

They stared at you for a minute, in which your mind didn’t hesitate to remind you that they probably hated you now and you were going to lose your best friends. But after that second, they both hugged you tightly.

“Y/N, we’re so happy for you!!” Flynn said. Your face broke into a huge smile hearing her say your name for the first time. 

“Thanks guys,” was all you could manage to get out, too happy to speak. 

“Do you wanna tell my parents, or do you not want them to know yet, or do you want me to tell them?” Julie asked. Your nerves rose again at the thought of telling her parents, even though you knew they would be accepting. 

“Could- could you tell them? I’d like to be there, though.”

Julie smiled again as she grabbed your hand and pulled you off her bed. 

“Hey!” you complained, laughing slightly. You grabbed onto Flynn’s hand, pulling her with you.

“Mom, Dad,” Julie said, slightly out of breath after running down the stairs. “This is Y/N, and they use they/them pronouns.” She gestured to you.

“We’re so proud of you, mija!” Rose said, pulling you into a hug. Ray was standing right behind her, his arms open for a hug as well. You fell into him, crying from happiness.

“Thank- thank you all.” You felt as though you might burst from the love and happiness that was in the room at that moment. 

-----

You rode that high for months. All the way up until Rose died. 

You remembered that vividly, as well. The sirens, wailing and flashing, squeezing your eyes shut and covering your ears to try to block out the light and sound of everything going on around you. The shocking realization that Rose was gone.

You shuddered, tears streaming down your face as you tried to push the thoughts of her death away. Then it hit you: you were gone, too. Dead. Killed by a strange man in a black coat. 

You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn’t realize the three boys that had come into the studio. 

“Hey, are you okay?” one of the boys asked, causing you to jump. 

“Oh, oh, um, yeah! I’m fine,” you said, slipping back into yourself and giving them your sweet smile again. 

“Well, okay, um, cause we saw you crying and just wanted to make sure-” the one with the beanie, Luke started. Then he frowned. “Wait, you can- you can see and hear us?”

You nodded, trying your hardest to keep the smile on your face. 

“But… but how?”

You couldn’t take it anymore. You broke down sobbing, sliding your back against the wall until you were curled up on the floor, your body passing through a table.

“Whoa, how’d you do that? How’d they do that? It’s almost like they’re- oh.” Reggie grew quiet as the realization that you were a ghost hit him.  

Luke walked over to you and put a hand on your arm, causing you to flinch away. 

“Oh, uh, sorry,” he said awkwardly, pulling his hand back. You shook your head slightly, trying to compose yourself.

“It- it’s okay,” you said, hiccuping slightly. “I just don’t like people touching me sometimes.”

The boy nodded. You pushed yourself up into a sitting position, whiping away your tears. 

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Alex asked you. You shook your head, thankful for the boy's presence, but dreading the question that you knew one of them would ask. 

Luke stood up and offered you a hand. You flinched again, remembering what had happened the last time someone had helped you up, but took it shakily. 

You hadn’t noticed it before, but there was a strange melody playing in the back of your head. You brushed it off, however. You always had a song stuck in your head. 

“So, uh, how’d you die?” Reggie asked. The other boys glared at him. “What? I’m just curious.”

“It...it’s alright, Reggie,” you said, sighing. “I- I fell into a puddle, and this man helped me up, and then he…” you trailed off, looking over at Reggie. “He stabbed me.”

“Oh,” he said quietly. You felt Luke’s gaze on you, and turned to look at him, suddenly very aware that he had not taken his hand out of yours after he helped you up. 

“Agh!” You cried out as pain coursed through your ankle, gripping Luke’s hand tighter. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice laced with worry.

“Oh, it’s nothing, I just twisted my ankle falling into the puddle.” You felt your face heating up as you realized how close you were to Luke; almost falling had brought you almost face to face with him. 

It seemed like he realized it too, because he cleared his throat and stepped away, letting go of your hand. 

“Hey guys,” Julie said, walking into the studio, but stopping when she saw you. “Y/N? I thought you had to take Danny home.”

Your eyes widened as tears threatened to spill yet again. “I-”

“It’s okay, Y/N.” Luke said, stepping up to you again. 

“No, no it’s not! I need to be there for him, I need to protect him…”

“Oh, hey, it’s okay, I didn’t mean to-'' Julie cut herself off. She started walking towards you, opening her arms for a hug. You opened your arms as well, put instead of a hug, all you got was a weird feeling as she passed right through you.

“What the…” Her eyes widened as she turned to face you. “You’re… you’re dead? But how? I just saw you like, half an hour ago…”

“They were stabbed.” Alex spoke up. Julie looked at you for confirmation, tears welling up in her eyes. You nodded. 

“Julie, please…” You walked over to your first friend in Los Angeles and let your hands hover over hers. “Please take care of Danny for me. Bring him here. Kidnap him, if you have to. Just don’t let him live with them.”

Julie nodded. “I- I’ll go get him right now,” she said, already heading for the doors. You smiled, at her, silently thanking her as she headed out into the rain. 

“So, uh, we didn’t get a chance to talk much earlier,” Luke commented, walking over to the couch. “What do you do for fun?”

“Um, I usually read, or draw, or listen to music,” you said somewhat awkwardly. You didn’t list the one that you loved most, but could never do. Sing. “My parents wouldn’t let me do that often, though.”

Luke frowned. “Why not?”

“Well, most of the time I didn’t even have time to. I had to cook dinner, clean, help Danny with his homework, do my homework…” 

You moved into a chair, sitting with perfect posture and your legs crossed. 

“This isn’t a job interview, Y/N,” Luke said with a slight laugh. “You can relax.”

You laughed at yourself. “Sorry, it’s just how I was conditioned to sit.” Your face froze as you realized you had said too much. 

“What do you mean, conditioned?”

You shook your head. “I’m really not supposed to talk about it.”

“Why not? You’re dead. Your parents rules don’t apply anymore.”

Your lip quirked upward in a sort of small smile. He was right, your parents couldn’t hurt you anymore. You twisted in the chair so that your legs were draping over the armrest. Reggie sat on the floor near Luke, leaning against the couch. Alex stood behind the couch. 

“No they don’t, but I still don’t want to talk about it.”

Luke shrugged. “Fair enough.”

“What about you?” you asked, playing with your hair. “What do you do for fun?”

“Write, mostly.”

That was intriguing. “Write what?”

“Music.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Tell you about… how we write music?” 

“Yeah! I wanna hear what it’s like.”

“Well, uh, okay then.”

-----

The sun beat down on the pavement outside of the studio. 

“Oh, hey Danny,” you heard Flynn say. Julie had told her to come over after she asked about you. She didn’t want to tell Flynn in public that their best friend had died.

You were growing nervous. How would she react? What would she say? Would you still be able to talk, with Julie telling her everything you said? What-

You were cut off from your thoughts as Flynn walked into the studio. 

“Oh, hey Y/N! Are you okay? You weren’t in school today, and you didn’t text me all weekend.”

You gaped at her. 

“What? Is there something wrong with my outfit?” she asked with a slight laugh.

“You...you can see me,” you said in shock.

She looked confused. “Of course I can see you. Why wouldn’t I- wait…” She walked over to you, an idea in her head. She tried to hold your hand, only for it to fall through. She backed away from you slightly, her worst fears confirmed. “You’re…… a ghost.”

Taglist: @sunsetcurvej @ifilwtmfc @xplrreylo @phantompogues @caitsymichelle13

#x reader #jatp x reader #julie and the phantoms x reader #fanfiction #rhys writes somestimes #luke x reader #luke patterson x reader #music worth making series

[moonlights-inkwell]

Oh, Can’t You Hear The Scratching?

Jaskier x Reader

Word Count: 4747

Summary: A serious injury leads to you being forced to leave your travelling days behind you and try to reintergrate yourself into a life you left behind. But it seems something from travelling has decided not to leave you

A/N: So. Um. This was meant to be some post Mountain smut, but turned into some semi-angst and is probably gonna turn into a series (and kinda (?) a companion piece to my Oxenfurt Series) where Jaskier and the Reader just sorta embrace some domestic bliss. So yeah. Title taken from That Unwanted Animal.

The first chill of Autumn is enough to wake you from a dead slumber. The cold nips at the tip of your nose, leaving it almost painful and chaffed, and you curse internally at the windows of your small home, which lately has done little to keep out either rain or cold. Pushing yourself up from the warmth of your fur-lined bed, you sit up and wince when the chill hits your chest, causing you to heave out a sigh as if you had been punched, blinking bleary-eyed before turning to gaze out of your window. It’s still dark, but no longer pitch. The sky is the colour of the violets that grow along the path that leads to your cottage but paling slowly, no sight of sun or moon, cloud or stars. Soon the horizon will be warmed by the orange glow of the sun, but right now you find yourself in this blissful timelessness, caught between dusk and dawn, sleep and awake. Moments like this feel rare, special, and you dedicate them to memory, to remind yourself of the mundane beauty of the world when you feel lonely and upset. These moments are wonderful, and your lips turn up in a tired smile. 

Sleep is trying desperately to overtake you once more, begging you sweetly to rest as long as humanly possible- after hard nights working in the tavern, you deserve rest and respite, but you fight against it. Swinging your legs out of bed and standing up, you groan in annoyance.  

“Melitele’s tits.” You curse, slurring with sleep. Padding barefoot to the window, you lean against the wall and rub your eyes, toying with the thin fabric that hangs to the side of the windows. It’s much too early in the day, and much too early for you to be feeling this way. This feeling only normally comes with Winter but reminds you all too much of the day you met Jaskier. It was as if fate had insisted you to be ready for him. Your heart sinks at the thought of him.  

You left the Witcher and your Bard behind in the spring. It wasn’t an easy choice, or even really a choice that you made, but it was the only one that was given to you. It came as a result of fighting a Wyvern. You hate Wyverns, always have and always will, but the fight against this one had cemented that in your mind, seeing as it sunk its claws into the left side of your face, and nearly blinded you. You didn’t even really know what damage it had caused until you sunk, faint, to your knees and Jaskier screeched in horror at the sight of you. I'm not that ugly, am I? You thought to yourself and chuckled slightly before falling unconscious.  

You woke in a healer’s tent, barely able to comprehend spoken language as the medic told Geralt you were lucky to be alive, never mind retaining the vision in both eyes.  Something in the back of your mind told you that you should be in pain, excruciating pain, but you can’t feel a thing. Your face would likely keep the marks of the beast forever though, he told the Witcher, voice as emotionless as possible. The hand holding your own tightens its grip. Jaskier. You smiled and cracked open the uninjured eye, but the smile faded at the sight of his red, tearstained face. He looked like he had been sobbing, and he probably had. He fretted about you when you got splinters, so the idea that you could have died was too much for him. He glanced down at you, and upon seeing your open eyes cupped your face gently and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. It’s like no kiss he’d given before, it’s full of something you haven’t felt from him, sadness. Regret. It feels like goodbye. When he pulls back his lips and chin are stained with your blood.  

“I’ll find you in winter.” He muttered and your eyes narrowed in confusion. Tears overtook him once more, and he dragged you into his lap to sob onto your bloodied blouse- he'd never been squeamish about blood before, but in that moment, it was as if he was trying to get as much of your blood on him as possible, to mar and mark himself with proof that he was yours. Your fingers threaded through his hair, but whatever the Healer had given you meant that you couldn’t feel the softness of the chestnut locks, smell the musk and lavender scent that you know permeates from him over the coppery blood. It's hollow. You can’t feel him at all and would have taken the agonising pain of the wound if it meant that you could feel the touch of his skin on yours.

“Till winter.”

It was goodbye. At least for the time being.

Geralt took you home on Roach the next day, and insisted you remain. Retune yourself back to the life in your village, rather than a life that will kill you at any and every turn. He said it so firmly you couldn’t force out an argument, and so you’ve remained since that day; remaining in the old home you resided in just outside of the village, returning to your job in the tavern, and trying in vain to pretend that you aren’t in pain, not spending your days missing your bard, counting down until the seasons change and Geralt will return to Kaer Morhen and you can feel a dandelion on your skin once more.  

Absent-mindedly, you drag the tips of your fingers over the fading scar over your eye, it’s no longer garishly red and surrounded by mottled green, yellow and blueing bruised skin, instead almost white, with a strange shining quality about it. You don’t hate it, but you hate what it represents. Weakness. You found scars wonderful as a child, proof of how adventures had marked you, even on the road with Geralt it had been something of note, proof of how no monster had felled you yet. This one has felled you, left you more than just marked. It’s a conversation starter with patrons at the pub though, it sees you regaling people with your tales of traveling with a Witcher, and sees the pockets of your pinny grow heavy with coin as the nights draw to days, but the song starts up and you feel your throat begin to swell closed, lips suddenly wordless and eyes swelling with tears. Toss a Coin to Your Witcher is capable of reducing you to tears, your Dandelion would be proud were it under different circumstances. You miss him like a lost limb. After so long around him, always touching, always grinning, always talking, the absence makes you uncomfortable, especially at night.

Jaskier had always been there at night, oh what the luxury of your travelling partner being your lover had been during nights on the road. The sound of him singing in the darkness, illuminated only by the firelight and framed by the canopy of the trees, as if on a stage and performing for an audience of only you, how it felt when he dragged you, often kicking and squealing in laughter, towards your shared bedroll. While you are glad of a permanent bed, you miss sleeping beside him. It feels childish to admit that you find it hard to sleep without him, even if you are only admitting to yourself, but it is difficult without him; you miss the feeling of his arms around your waist, head between your shoulders and breath fanning against your skin, lulling you to sleep. Not only that, but you miss the sweetness that comes before sleep, tiredly resting on his chest and listening to him talk- usually utter nonsense you care little for, but enamoured by his passion and way of speaking- or singing, ringed fingers burying themselves in your hair while your fingers thread through the Shag Rug of chest hair.  

The shadow that passes by the window doesn’t catch your eye, distracted too much by memory, and you turn tiredly back toward bed but stop. Bed will do nothing but remind you of the chill behind you, lack of arms about your waist and head resting in the hollow between your shoulder blades. That won’t do. Instead, you find yourself padding to the small room that keeps the hearth, lip trapped between gnawing teeth as you begin a search for a means to light the fire and warm yourself a serving of last night’s stew but stop. Scratching. Scratching. Something is scratching at the front door. That’s not normal. All your life there has never been scratching at the door, even in spite of its close proximity to the woods no creature normally drags their claws along the wood, save for once, when a wolf had found itself lost and confused, but even that had been a pup. Just Imagining things, you try in vain to convince yourself, hand falling onto the matches and drawing a sigh of relief from you. It takes a second or so for your hands to stop shaking, but when the scratching dies you manage to strike a match and start a fire beneath the hanging pot of stew. Warmth, at long last, and light too.  

You sit on the floor to warm yourself in front of the hearth, humming softly along with the phantom of a song you hear in your dreams. It’s not one you know too well, you don’t even know if the song has lyrics, but it's one of Jaskier's and that means it’s your favourite. Tears that threaten to fall blur your vision and in the glowing flames you almost swear you can see him, sat across from you.  

It’s familiar, hauntingly so. You can all but feel the hard stone beneath your feet turn to prickly, drying grass, your sleep shirt turning to almost threadbare chemise and trousers. You can even feel the bruising ribs from an especially rough incident with a werewolf that saw the Witcher walking to a nearby village for food to help you feel better. The flames in front of you ripple and roar, causing the wood to pop and crackle, and with each noise you jump slightly and flinch in pain. Jaskier sits across from you, staring at you intensely and strumming at his lute. He’s beautiful in the light of the fire, lashes dark and his eyes focused, taking in every flinch and jostle.

“Try not to move so, Little Miss. You'll only hurt yourself. Well. Hurt yourself more.” He's trying to sound unaffected, but the intensity of his gaze betrays him. You worried him; a skill you’ve been honing in your time with Geralt and him, and you know how he worries. He's more of a mother-hen than a fighter in the first place, flapping about and acting as if you’re some delicate flower in polite society rather than someone who enjoys being combative, but combined with your human fragility? He frets. Overwhelmingly so. His eyes, the colour of the sea after a storm, moves from your eyes to where he knows your injury to be and then back to your eyes once more. You can’t quite meet his eyes, distracting yourself by looking over the intricate ivory embroidery that decorates his doublet.

You hate worrying him. He’s been so kind to you, always so giving: making sure you have enough stew to eat, warm enough when autumn comes about, threatening any man who looks at you with anything less than respect. He knows how you revel in fighting, but each and every injury you get sees the bard fretting even more so than normal. Though you can't meet his gaze you can feel his eyes on you, and hear the soft melody he's plucking, which makes you shift on the spot, letting out a pained moan as you do. Focused on the searing pain in your ribs, you don’t quite hear the bard gasp out your name and rush to your side, only knowing he's even there when you feel a warm palm rest on your thigh and turn to see him on his knees in front of you.  

“Fucking hell, Little Miss, are you alright? Do you need something? Shit... I- I can try and fetch Geralt, he won’t be too far-" The brunet rambles, eyes wide and grip on your thigh tightening, which serves to make your breath hitch- but not from the pain. Jaskier is always touching you, you’re quite certain he was not given sufficient human contact as a child, but never has he touched somewhere as... intimate as your thigh. The heat of his hand seeps through your trousers, and goes straight to your core and face- cheeks bright pink. He's still rambling, you realise, and reach out gently to cup his cheek, silencing him immediately. Stubble you can’t see on his boyish face prickles your palm, and you meet his eyes once more, noticing how wide the pitch of his eyes had grown.  

“I’m fine, Dandelion. Truly. Just moved too fast... bruises, and such.” You laugh weakly, tilting your head. “It will pass. Just need to distract myself.”  

He laughs with you, hand squeezing the meat of your thigh and so close you can feel his breath fanning against your skin.

“I can distract you if you like?” He offers, voice lower than normal. You smile in return and nod, expecting a song or joke but what you get instead is his lips pressed against yours. Warm, wind chapped, perfect-

A log pops and you come from your memory, blinking and sniffing as the smell of the soup makes you smile. It’s not much, but it’s enough. Before you can reach up for a spoon to mix it, you hear it again. The scratching. It's back, and worrying. You miss Geralt, not for the first time that night, missing how his acute hearing would be able to tell you if it was an animal or human- specifically if it was a wolf as you suspected. Scratching, scratching and scratching. It worries you, but not enough for you to become fearful; instead making you smirk, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits and shifting towards the sword you've kept beside the door. Less than a second later you dart toward the door, and grip the cold hilt of the blade in one hand, body pressed against the wall beside the door. The scratching stops when you move which only makes you hold your breath, eyes slipping shut as you try to relax once more. Calm doesn’t come, and instead you heave out a sigh and call out,  

“...Hello? Kacsper? Is that you?” It wouldn’t be the first time your employer had come by in the night to ensure a young woman alone would be safe at night, which you thought to be immensely invasive but, in this moment, you cannot stop yourself from hoping it was him.  

“...Dear Heart?” A voice you didn’t expect at all replies, weak and choked. Jaskier. Only Jaskier has ever called you anything like Dear Heart, the only person to ever even think to call you by pet names, but not in that voice. Pained, like he was injured. Something logical in the back of your mind tries to remind you of Dopplers or any number of creatures that can change their voices, but the sound of your lover’s voice is enough to see you throw caution to the wind. You drop the blade to rip the door open, completely unfazed by the ear-splitting clatter of steel on wood. The door is open before you realise how forcefully you pull and there, shivering in the autumnal cold, is your bard.  

It’s hard to tell in the minimal light of your cooking fire, but he looks a mess. Chestnut hair splayed across his forehead in wet clumps, from rain or sweat you have no idea, deep red doublet and trousers stained with something that could be either mud or blood, and eyes sunken and darkened from a lack of sleep and something else. A sort of... hunger, longing that you know, but not in this intensity- he would look at you like this before kissing you, or bedding you, like you were ephemeral and easily gone without his touch. His frame lurches, holding to the door frame for stability.  

“Jask?” You whisper, and it’s enough for him to surge forward and crash his mouth to yours. The look in his eyes mirrors how he kisses you, hungry and rough, cracked lips moving against your own in such a way that you almost fear the blood you can taste is your own, but it’s definitely not. You feel like you ought push him away, chide him for coming so late and frightening you, but instead your arms wind around his neck to pull him closer still, lips moving gently against his, trying to slow the kiss. It’s been so long, too long, without his lips on yours, months without his touch when you would seldom live an hour without his touch. He takes the hint and the kiss instead turns sweet though still desperate, his hands resting on your hips even after you pull back and stare up at him like he’s a phantom or dream. “Jaskier, what are you doing here?”  

“...I missed you.” He says simply, voice cracking and breaking your heart at just how sad he sounds. “I. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to intrude, Little Miss. I should-"  

“Shut the door, Buttercup.” You interrupt him, hands sliding from his throat to hold his cheek. “And sit down. You look dead on your feet. Where's Ger?”  

Jaskier flinches at the mention of the white-haired man but does turn to close your front door. As soon as it’s closed, keeping the cold somewhat at bay, his arms are around you once more and face buried into your hair, drawing a contented sigh from you while your own arms work their way around his back. It’s been far too long. He feels like he always has, soft but with a firm layer of muscle just beneath, not obvious by looking at him, but there none the less. Hugs have always felt restrictive, like being caged but his have always felt like safety. It’s the same now, just more tight, and you cannot tell if he knows how tightly he’s holding you. Honestly, you can’t bring yourself to care. He could leave a Jaskier shaped bruise on your flesh so long as he robs you of the Jaskier shaped hole in your heart. He doesn’t smell as usual though, lavender and musk replaced with sweat and sulphur, telling you just how long it must have been since last he bathed.  

Deft fingers wind into the wispy hair at your nape at the same time that lips press to the crown of your head, followed by a deep inhale, you aren’t the only one to have missed the simple things like this. So much is hidden away in touch and smell, especially when not too long ago the two of you spent near every moment joined at the hip.  

“You smell like posies.” He mumbles into your hair, and you smile weakly at the observation.  

“You smell like death, Darling.” You reply before you really consider how mean the words are, though you hope your voice is playful. “I'll draw you a bath-"  

“No, no, no. Don’t... don't move, Muse. Let me... Let me cherish this moment. Reunions are supposed to be a happy time.” He doesn’t sound happy; he sounds as if he's choking back tears. “Gods, how I’ve missed you, Dear Heart.”  

“I missed you too, Buttercup. Like a lost limb.” It should seem a melodramatic turn of phrase, but it truly isn’t. It was like losing half of yourself to be away from him. Having him wrapped around you now is the closest to normal you’ve felt since leaving his side. “...Why are you here though, Love? Oughtn't you be with Ger-"  

“Don’t say his name.” The usually sweet voice of your bard comes out venomous, and his grip only tightens, “I’m not travelling with the prick.”  

The Prick. That’s new. So many of Jaskier’s songs are about the Witcher, but now he's the prick. You can’t help but blink in confusion, head tilting to look at your man but he instead swoops his head down to kiss you gently. He's trying to distract you, of that you're certain, but you decide it best to indulge him, kissing him sweetly and pulling back before he can deepen it.  

“...Stew.”  

It’s his turn to look confused, head tilted to one side to stare at you while you pull away.  

“Stew?”  

“Do you want some?” Gesturing blindly to the pot behind you, you begrudgingly break free of his hold on you. “You look hungry. Stew, a bath and then bed. I think it would do you the world of good.”  

“When did you become a domestic goddess, Little Miss?” He asks incredulously, lips turning up in a smile. He’s taunting you, but you don’t care as long as he stays smiling. “My Little Miss would sooner skin a deer with her teeth than cook.”  

“You can thank my mother for that. Old habits die hard, even if they are ones to make me a perfect wife.”  

“You’re a perfect wife already.” He says with a degree of finality in his statement, sitting by the fire. He makes it sound like you are his wife, and the thought brings a blush to your cheeks. “Are you going to join me?”  

“I need to get bowls for the stew.”  

“I mean in the bath.” He shoots a wink in your direction that you suppose is meant to be flirty, but on this defeated looking Jaskier it comes across more pathetic than anything else. Had you been asked an hour before, you would have moved heaven and hell for a chance to be in your miniscule bath with the Bard, using bathing as a preamble to ride him until your brain and legs turn to jelly and there's more water out of the bath than in it, but this Jaskier needs a gentle hand, and a helping hand to remove the layer of grime and melancholy that is covering his entire being. “You... You don’t have to. I. I'm being presumptuous, aren’t I?”  

“How?” You ask weakly, descending to your knees at the bard's side. “It's hardly the first time you've asked to see me unclothed.”

“It’s been months. You probably have a new lover. I mean, look at you, how could you not?” He asks, gesturing to your body as if it was supposed to mean something to you. “You look like a gift from on high, and I... I left you here. To grow soft, and gentle and domestic.” His hand rests on your thigh but there’s nothing romantic in the touch, just longing. Like, despite his hand on your bard flesh, you're in fact a thousand miles away or he's lamenting to the spectre of a lost love. “Someone else has snapped you up, and I’ve lost you, and come here, and you’re too polite to say no.”  

“We both know I would never be made to do anything I don’t want.” You smile, and lean in to press a chaste kiss to his lips. He chuckles softly, and watches you as you ladle some stew into a bowl and hand it to him. “And I don’t. Have anyone else.”  

“You said a man's name when I was at the door.”  

“My employer. He’s... odd. Constantly sniffing about.” You reassure him, watching him spoon up some of the both and sip it before sighing, from the taste or reassured that you love him still. “If I didn’t want you, I’d have stabbed you.”  

“You. You waited.” It’s a statement, and you nod simply in agreement.  

“You said you'd come in winter.” His eyes focus on you once more, drinking you in like it is both the first and last time he shall see you.

“You look like you did the night we first met.” He says conversationally, and you smile, remembering how he had winked at you mid song. It feels a hundred years ago, though you know it couldn’t be more than six years ago. “I thought you were the most sublime creature on the planet. There’s not an ounce of feral in you, just... beauty and softness, with something wild behind the eyes.” He says soft like it’s a thing to be admired, not disparaged. His eyes, stormy blue and sad look about your childhood home with nostalgia for a time that you don’t know. “You look like a life worth living, Dear Heart.”  

“...A life worth living?”

“Yes. This. This you, all gentle and half asleep, looking at me like you love me. A little home and a fire, Darling Love telling me to eat and bathe and sleep. Domestic. A life worth living.”  

“I do love you Jaskier.” You interrupt, letting the words fall off your tongue like they’re the easiest thing in the world to say. They feel that way.  

“You shouldn’t. I left you here.” The words come out hollow, and you take his hand from your thigh to your lips and kiss it. You can all but see the knotted weaves and threads of his mind, and hope the kiss will soothe them, even a little. His hand tugs free for a moment to ghost his fingers along the scar on your face, making you shiver.

“I was hurt.”  

“I should have stayed. Should have stayed by your side.”  

“You’re here now, Julian. That’s enough.” It shouldn’t be, but it is. He's here, not exactly as you’d like him to be, but having him beside you is more than enough. The comforting presence of warmth beside you is more than enough to wipe away the months of absence.

He sighs your name like a prayer, “I love you.”  

“As you should.” You tease, and he places the bowl beside him to take your hands in his, prompting you to give up all pretence of propriety to instead climb onto his lap, intertwined fingers bridging the gap between your bodies. “You’re upset.”  

“At the sight of the love of my life looking like a perfect little wife in an empty home.” Obtuse Jaskier might just be your least favourite form of the Bard, him trying to mask feelings he wears so openly, like he thinks you a fool. You’re unwilling to pry, though, so bite your tongue. “I’m half convinced I died on that mountain, and you’re just what my mind has created as a dying thought.”  

“Shush.” You coo, lips chastely brushing against his. “You're as alive as I am, keep the melancholies out of it. If I look like some... darling bride then be quiet, seeing as that would make you a very foolish husband to spend your night bemoaning your fears and not kissing me.”  

He chuckles at that, a small triumph, but enough to fill your heart to bursting point.  

“I’d be a fool for leaving you here alone.” He starts but a sharp noise of annoyance cuts him off.  

“Stay forever to make up for it, then.” You retort, “Sleep next to me until I can’t remember a single morning without you.”  

He blinks at that, enrapturing you in how the black of his eyes swells until you cannot see any of the blue.  

“You want me to stay?”  

“For always.”  

He grins, almost wide enough to distract from the tears that well in his eyes and you lean in to kiss him once more, his hands settling on your hips to pull you closer still. You've missed this, the stupidity that fills your head when his lips are on yours, tongue gently trailing along the seam of your mouth, never invasive, just inquisitive.  

“You truly do need a bath though.” You grumble against his mouth, Jaskier pulls back in mock indignation.

“I know you don’t actually mean that and just want to undress me.”  

“Oh, shut up, Dandelion.”  

His hands turn from cradling to tickling, sending you into reams of laughter that he echoes. All, for just a moment, feels right in the world, now that he's with you again.  

#jaskier imagine #jaskier x reader #jaskier x you #jaskier x y/n

[monstersandmaw]

Mute male siren x female reader (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This is a tier reward for a lovely patron who wanted a siren who's never been able to use his voice, and is thus treated poorly by his own kind for being 'useless' in their eyes. Hope you enjoy!

It’s been up on my Patreon for a while now, so if you want to have access to stories before they go up on Tumblr, plus a number of exclusive rewards, access to our Discord server, polls, artwork, character concepts, etc. then head on over and check it out!

___

It was the eerie melody - almost more of a feeling in your chest than a sound in your ears - that drew you out onto the jetty from the beach where you’d been walking barefoot, flip-flops dangling from the fingers of one hand. You knew about the shoal of sirens who lived and hunted off the reef that guarded Starfall Bay, but you’d never seen them; they didn’t come too close to shore very often after all, preferring the vast open waters of the channel beyond.

Something about their song that afternoon seemed harsh, cruel, despite the plainchant beauty of it and a tear spilled from your eye before you’d even noticed it forming. The song faded as the sirens clearly dived back down again, and it left you strangely hollow. Humans were far from immune to the hunting calls and songs of those hauntingly strange creatures, and in the silent wake of their absence, you found yourself humming softly. The tune was a cheerful one as you tried to rally your spirits a little.

Squinting against the reflections of the strong summer sun against the rippling water, you clambered down to sit on the edge of the dock so that you could dangle your feet in the cool, clear water. A little crab scuttled around in the rocks beneath the jetty’s pilings, minding its own business, and you watched him for a bit. As the hairs on your arms prickled suddenly, you looked up and found that you were not alone.

Lying half slumped over a nearby rock which had been smoothed by the constant caress of the sea was a creature that was unmistakably a siren. You frowned, wondering what they could be doing just metres from the shoreline, and half-hauled out of the water. Something about their size and shape suggested that they were male, and you stared openly at the stunning colours of his tail and upper body. The thick muscle was covered with inky blue scales which were in turn dotted here and there with pearlescent scales. It brought to mind the clearest of night skies. The fan of his tail was feathered and spread out in the water behind him, while his upper body was smooth and free of scales. His skin there, however, was a dark blue-grey, and he had little fins of iridescent blue at his elbows. Plastered to his head and hanging halfway down his back, his hair was black as an oil slick, and he stared at you with huge, dolorous, sapphire eyes, blinking slowly.

“Hi,” you called, waving. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a siren up here before. Do you come here a lot?”

He waved back, somewhat hesitantly, and then gestured with a clawed hand at his throat, opening his mouth silently.

“Oh,” you said. “You don’t speak…? Is that right?”

In answer, he gave a slow, sad nod, those bright, completely blue eyes turning down to stare at a spot of vivid green seaweed on the rock.

Something about his dejected posture made you keep talking, so you asked, “Do you know Sign?”

His head jerked back up at that and he tilted it curiously to one side in a silent question.

“You know, Sign Language?” you asked. “It’s what people who can’t hear or talk - or sometimes both - use to communicate. They use their hands.”

The siren froze but his lips parted in soft astonishment, eyes wide with wonder. He clearly hadn’t known that there were other ways of expressing himself, and your heart twisted at the anguish in his storm-blue eyes.

“My friend teaches it,” you went on, thinking on your feet. “I don’t know it myself, but if you’d like to learn, I’m sure I can ask him for you.”

He nodded emphatically but then went still again.

“What? What’s wrong?”

He made an empty kind of cough, mouth opening in an unvoiced hiss of frustration - more of a choke, really - flashing razor sharp teeth. Then he looked back at you and rubbed his thumb against his fingertips in the gesture that said ‘money’ almost the world over. He’d clearly been around landfolk often enough to have picked that one up.

Waggling your legs slowly through the water as you thought, you pouted and then said, “I can ask if he’d be willing to help out anyway… He’s the kind of guy that would do that.”

The hope that kindled in those sad eyes nearly tore your chest in two.

“I’ll ask him right now. Hang on.”

One quick text later and Jera was agreeing to come down to the beach in ten minutes to meet the siren. The bright green of the lizardfolk’s tail seemed to fascinate your siren, and the two of them seemed to hit it off almost immediately. You couldn’t help but notice the way he flinched away though whenever either of you made a sudden gesture or raised your voices - even to laugh - and as you and Jera made your way back up the beach after promising to return the next morning, your friend voiced his concerns.

“For a siren to have no voice…” he muttered darkly. “He must be the lowest of the low… he…”

“He seems to desperate to communicate,” you commented.

Jera shook his head and made a soft growl like an alligator. “It’s more than that. They use their voices for everything: hunting, mating, socialising… Without that, he… he has no role, no function.”

Your heart ached for him and you said, “You mind if I sit in on the lessons too? That way he’s got me to talk to as well…”

“I kind of assumed you’d want that anyway,” Jera grinned. “We’ll start tomorrow.”

Over the next three weeks, you and Jera spent hours down at the shore with the siren. He was literate as it turned out, and at the start of your first lesson he wrote his name with a talon in the hard, wet sand.

“Ilta,” Jera repeated, looking up at him. “That means ‘evening’,” he added, and both of you eyed the starry night sky of Ilta’s tail.

“Appropriate,” you grinned and Ilta blushed darker. His face was so sharply defined, his features so intense and clearly belonging to a predator, that to see him turn a little softer sent a thrill through you.

When he saw the way you smiled, he signed, “Thank you,” with a hesitant and bashful hand.

One morning perhaps a month into your daily lessons, as you hurried through the town, with your heart fluttering and your chest light with excitement to see him again, your phone buzzed and you paused at the harbour to read the text.

Jera: Hey, I can’t make it today - something’s come up and they need me to cover for another member of staff at school. Sorry! x

You replied that it was fine, and that you and Ilta could practise together anyway. However, he wasn’t there when you got to your usual meeting spot in the cove, and a stab of worry hit you like a hammer blow. Eventually, after thirty long minutes of pacing the sand and staring at the water, the surface of the sea rippled in a rush of bubbles, and you saw Ilta’s dark tail propelling him towards you.

“Hey,” you called, waving to him, but when you saw how dejected he looked, how broken down, you knelt in the water, heedless of the splashing waves, and held out your arms to him. “Come here,” you murmured.

He lay in your lap, his chest heaving silently, and he flung his lean, muscular arms around your waist. Stroking his wet hair seemed to calm him and after a moment you felt him shiver. “Ilta, what happened?” you asked softly, but he only tightened his grip on you and buried his face from sight. “Ok, it’s ok,” you crooned. “I’m here.”

After a while, you recalled something that Jera had said about song being so important to the everyday life of a siren, and you began to hum quietly. It was the tune you’d sung on the day you’d first met him; a variation of a folk melody that had always cheered you up when your grandmother had sung it to you. Within seconds, his body went limp beneath your touch and he let his hands fall to the sand on either side of your thighs. He listened to you sing it through twice before he took a deep, shuddering breath, and then pushed himself upright.

His strange gaze met yours and he reached a lethally-clawed hand for your throat, his fingertips just brushing against your skin as you continued to sing. The urge to stop was overwhelming, but something made you keep humming. He blinked slowly, dark lips slightly parted, and he continued to touch you. Eventually he withdrew his hand and signed an embarrassed, “Thank you… I’m sorry.”

“What happened?” you asked, using your hands instead of your voice now.

He shuffled slightly, splashing you as he got comfortable enough that he could sit half-coiled up on himself, balanced and able to use both hands to speak. “Sorry,” he grinned as you wiped the droplets off your face with a quiet laugh. “I… I had a bad day with my shoal.”

“What do you mean?”

He rolled his eyes in frustration, though it wasn’t directed at you. “They use their voices on me,” he admitted.

“I don’t understand…” you said gently, movements of your hands small, quiet, faltering.

He turned his gaze back to meet yours and said, “You know how we hunt, right? We lure our prey in and then we use our voices to stun them. The sounds are…” he paused, frowning, searching for a way to explain it to you. “You know how some whales hunt by blasting sound at fish, making the air inside them expand or leaving them twitching and immobile…”

Horror slid into your stomach and you stared at him. “They did that to you?”

Ilta nodded. “They’ve always done it,” he went on. “But since I’ve been coming here and learning to talk another way, they’ve been doing it more and more. I… I can’t defend myself from that.”

“Can you leave?” you blurted aloud.

He shrugged. “Probably, but only if I stayed in and around the harbour. I learned to hunt in the shallows the way other merfolk do, with a spear of sharpened shell, but they think that’s hilarious of course.”

You made a disgusted noise in the back of your throat and he smiled broadly.

“What?”

“I love the noises you make,” he said. “Sometimes it’s just really cute and other times it’s beautiful. You have a lovely voice you know?”

You snorted softly, flushing. “You should have heard my grandmother. She was a real singer.”

“What’s a real singer?” he asked.

“You know, someone who sings for audiences… People pay to come and hear her…”

“Oh,” he said. “You sang for me though,” he added, his movements suddenly shrinking down to barely-there twitches of his hands. He’d picked it up much more quickly than you had, and you almost missed what he said.

“I couldn’t think of any other way to make you feel better,” you said shyly. “Did it work?”

“Yeah.” It was obvious that there was more to it though, but he didn’t go on immediately.

“Did… Did I do something wrong?” you asked, trying to catch his eye but he was too busy looking at a patch of bare sand just beside you.

He shook his head.

“Then what is it…?”

He swallowed and looked up at you at last. “It’s something a mate might do,” he said with trembling fingers. “No one has ever done anything like that for me before. I thought they never would… you know… because of…” he finished by gesturing weakly at his voiceless throat.

Feeling brave, you reached for his face and traced your thumb across his cheekbone. “Ilta,” you said and he brought his hand up to your throat again before dropping it so that he could speak.

“I love your voice,” he said. “I wish I could sing for you. I wish… I…” His hands fell limply into the water beside his tail and he sighed. Slowly he brought the fingers of his right hand up to his own throat, claws digging into the muscle of his neck. For a horrible moment you thought he might hurt himself, but he relaxed a second later and opened his mouth. As he exhaled, gills flaring briefly in his neck, he let out a wet choking sound. It was just air in his throat, with no vocalisation at all. “I can’t,” he signed. “I’ve never been able to…”

You took his hands in yours briefly once he’d stopped talking and kissed his knuckles gently. “I know it’s… it’s been awful for you,” you said as you continued to kiss his cold skin, “But… I think that not having a voice has made you partly who you are. I’m not saying I wouldn’t love you if you could sing, but… I love who you are, Ilta. I love spending time with you and listening to your stories about what it’s like underwater… I would never have known any of that if I hadn’t met you.”

Ilta listened to your words and stared at you, stunned, barely breathing. Eventually he slid his hands free of yours and asked, “You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you reassured him.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked immediately, and when you nodded, he grinned again.

He knocked you back into the sand, pressing his whole body against yours, and it was as if his touch became his song. Silently, he sculpted his feelings for you against your skin, running his hands up your legs, his gills working as he became more and more aroused by the feel of you. He lifted your top and raked his teeth over your warm skin, making you gasp and cry out. The cove was mercifully pretty empty, with only a few people about, but they were a long way off.

His fluke flailed in the surf as he dragged himself up towards your shoulders, his body still pressed along yours. His long hair fell to one side and you looked up into his eyes. “You were going to kiss me,” you grinned.

Ilta’s answering smile was sharp and wicked but full of fondness, and he kissed you hard enough that you let out a low moan. One of his cold hands wrapped lightly around your throat as you continued to mewl and groan under his touch, and you knew that his touch was his answering song for you. Together, the two of you made a song of your own. When you said as much, he tipped his head back, almost in victory, and rutted up against your thigh, his scales suddenly slick where they touched you.

Ilta continued to touch you with reverence and wonder until you could no longer stop the sounds from falling from you. He took every single one of them and returned them with his body until the two of you were gasping together, sharing a breath as he spilled his release across your thighs, his forehead pressed to your collarbones and his fingers tangled in your hair.

With one final, soft, decadent moan, you kissed the top of his head and he signed something vague that might have been ‘thank you’ but you weren’t quite sure. To be fair though, you weren’t in a much better position to be articulating anything either.

—

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#merman #siren #exophilia #monster boyfriend #merman boyfriend #siren boyfriend #sign language #mute character #patreon reward #commission

[papenniesandbentoboxes]

Favorite ND Soundtracks

Alright. I am a huge music nerd. For some time, I was a music major at college (I changed majors after having to take nine classes a semester because of all my ensembles). One of my hobbies is listening to movie and game scores. Some of the Nancy Drew games have some pretty great music. I don’t really know how I’d rank my favorites, but I’m going to list them in no particular order.

Shadow at Water’s Edge

Lovely traditional Japanese sound. Very calming yet it just sounds like someone is watching you. 

The scenes in the city have some great music. Honestly? They are bops.

The music fits perfectly with the ambiance and mood. The music at the ryokan is haunting and beautiful and the music in the city is fun and carefree.

“Kasumi” is so wonderfully haunting and beautiful and horrifying at the same time. It’s beautiful and peaceful, and it makes me feel both sad and like I’m gonna die from being attacked by the yurei.

Some of the tracks in this don’t sound like they’re from a Nancy Drew game. They sound like they came straight out of a horror film.

Secret of Shadow Ranch

Western. Soooo western. A stereotypical cowboy movie score. I love it.

It makes me feel like I’m a cowboy in the wild west.

The guitar picking is perfect in “Dirk”. I love it so much that I listened and taught myself on the guitar and I played it too much because my sister was sick of it for a long time.

The ghost town music fits so well. A perfect combination of suspense and yeehaw.

The drums in “Lands”... Perfect. And the trombones in “Danger”... Great.

Curse of Blackmoor Manor

This score. It’s amazing. It makes me feel like I’m in an old English mansion poking around and searching through hidden passages. Oh wait...

This score seems like it should be the background music for a BBC show about royalty.

Some of the music is downright terrifying. Also, the dulcimer?! That instrument is underrated and used amazingly!

The piano and strings parts are just beautiful. “Memoirs” is one of my favorites. The use of dynamics in that piece is lovely.

This is probably the only music where a recorder sounds good.

Brigitte. I still know that song so well.

Legend of the Crystal Skull

Okay. As a jazz singer, this soundtrack spoke to my soul. 

They mix horror and jazz and that makes me love it sooooo much.

I just really like jazz, okay?

“Bruno” hits different. It feels like you just walked into a 1930s New Orleans nightclub holding a cigarette and wearing a fur coat.

“Bayou” give me “Gonna Take You There” vibes.

Haunting of Castle Malloy

Say what you want about the game, but the music is beautiful.

“Nursery” still gives me chills. “Map” makes me feel like I should always be watching my back. “Grand” is rightly named. 

The music in the pub are bangers. 

As a Celtic music fan, this soundtrack is truly wonderful.

Warnings at Waverly Academy

This one fits the environment so well. Both suspenseful and youthful.

The cello. Ooooh, the cello. *chef’s kiss*

The violin solo... It’s so beautifully creepy and unsettling with the resonance and the reverb. 

It just feels like late autumn/early winter. It has that vibe and it’s wonderful.

The Captive Curse

Again, as a musician, I’ve been exposed to lots of music, and some of that is traditional Bavarian music. This one combined the mystery of Nancy Drew games with the traditional music and it was done well.

“Girls” is both beautiful and slightly tragic. The piano, the violin, the cello, the everything. It feels like I should be out there wearing a dirndl with Nancy and remember all the girls before that have died at this castle.

Speaking of castle, “Castle” is so wonderfully mysterious. So is “Mystery”, of course. And the violin in “Legend”? It makes me feel curious.

The choir in “Creature” brings a whole new vibe to the game. Kinda gave me “Duel of Fates” vibes, if you know what I mean.

The Deadly Device

It sounds like it came straight out of a sci-fi film. It also gives me Doctor Who and Thor: Ragnarok vibes.

The repeated motif in “Research” sounds like “Jolly Old Saint Nicholas”, don’t hate me.

It fits the techie nerd vibe as well as the “hello, this is murder” vibe.

Ghost of Thornton Hall

This one. Oooh ho ho, this one. It still gives me chills. The music adds so much to the game. It’s creepy enough already, but add this amazing music and you get one of the most creepy Nancy Drew games.

Oh, did I also mention that this music will bring you to tears? Yeah.

That little bit of background choir in some of the tracks?

The brass section in “Dark” has a feel of urgency.

The OPERA in the background. UGH, IT’S AMAZING. This is coming from a person who has sang opera before and DAMN is this stuff beautiful. The vocalese is amazing.

The rhyme... The rhyme.

“Past” is so beautiful and tragic and truly captivates the sadness of the entire situation.

That one time where the drums are pretty much a heartbeat? Freaks me out. Every time. I love it.

The Silent Spy

This one has amazing music and it’s also one of the plot points in the mystery.

The link between Kate and the piano is amazing. Every time I hear the piano, it’s a reminder of Kate and her presence. 

Kate’s Theme is so simple, yet so beautiful. 

The bagpipes in the background add a whole new layer of sadness. I am one of those people who actually loves the bagpipes.

It feels like a FRICKIN SPY/HEIST MOVIE.

At the same time, SCOTLAND.

The use of the electric guitar is very lovely.

Labyrinth of Lies

I love it. I love it. The music belongs there.

The use of traditional Greek inspired music is wonderful and really helps with the entire ambiance. 

“Souls” sounds like it belongs in the underworld.

Sea of Darkness

Hoooooly moly, I love this music. The strings, the choir, the woodwinds, the brass? Everything.

This music makes me want to go sailing.

“The Word I Couldn’t Keep” is still an amazing, beautiful song and no one can tell me otherwise because I am right.

The music in the ice caves, “Waiting” is absolutely amazing. The reverb makes it sound like it’s actually coming from inside the caves.

Midnight in Salem

Again, say what you want about the game, but the music was amazing.

Okay, they had some bops and bangers in this game. I was grooving to these tunes.

It sounds so Halloweeny. It’s so delightfully creepy. It sounds like a Danny Elfman soundtrack and I am HERE for it.

The use of the harp in these tracks is wonderful. It sounds like they also used chimes in here, which fits well.

“Feelings” is so beautiful. Another one of those hauntingly beautiful tracks that hits you in the feels.

“Family” instantly transports me from wherever I am to a small town in the mid-autumn with a little creepy vibe.

I got GTH vibes from some of these. I loved it.

The Phantom of Venice music during Ned’s phone call was superb. I heard it and instantly had flashbacks to Nancy’s not-quite-stripper days.

Seriously. Danny Elfman vibes.

Feel free to add on!! I’d love to hear more about what other people think of the soundtracks. 

#nancy drew games #nancy drew #soundtracks #nancy drew music #nancy drew soundtracks #music #game soundtrack #shadow at the waters edge #secret of shadow ranch #curse of blackmoor manor #legend of the crystal skull #haunting of castle malloy #warnings at waverly academy #the captive curse #the deadly device #ghost of thornton hall #silent spy #labyrinth of lies #sea of darkness #midnight in salem

[nikki-fucking-sixx]

Together Without You: Chapter Six

Never before have you had a shift at work feel that painful. It was a Sunday brunch and not only was the bar completely filled, but the restaurant was packed to the brim. Every Mom and her child was waiting to eat eggs at this shitty restaurant. Along with the group of housewives were the day drinkers who pled for seats at the bar. You ignored their pleas and watched the clock, waiting for 3:00 to come. Time went by as slowly as expected, especially with your eyes stuck on the hands moving at a snail’s pace. When the time finally came, you threw your apron into the kitchen, gave Gus a small smile and left. Your car was rapidly swinging out of the parking lot as you made your way back to your apartment. When you got there, you raced into your room, stripped down to your bra and panties and collapsed on your bed. You let yourself sink into the mattress as your mind began to finally relax, that was, until you heard a knock. 

“Hey, it’s me,” It was Maria.

“Come in.” You mumble. She walks in and bursts out in a laugh. 

“Looking good, Mamma,” She laid down beside you. “Is it weird that I still have my shirt and pants on?” 

You snickered, “Only if you let it get weird.”

“Shit, I guess it’s weird now.” You smile and roll your eyes at your friend as she laughs. “How was work?”

You let out a sigh, “Shitty. How was homework?” 

“Also shitty. There is no way to make chemistry suck less.” She rolled over onto her side to face you. Her eyes met your slightly raised belly and she smiled, “You’re finally starting to show a little bit.” You lift up your head and acknowledge the bump and give a light tap.

“I’m only eight weeks along so there’s anything there. The only way I feel pregnant is that my pants are starting to get a little tight.” 

“But that’s all part of the fun! You can eat whatever the hell you want now.” You snicker and lay back into the bed.

“I guess,” You then look at the clock and see it is already 3:45. “Shit, I gotta get going.” You hop off the bed and begin to look through your dresser.

“Where are you going?” You forgot to tell Maria.

“Nikki asked me to come to his rehearsal yesterday after the doctor’s appointment and I’m supposed to have him pick me up in fifteen minutes.” Maria sat up on the bed.

“So you’re seeing Nikki again?” You look over at Maria to see her giving you a coy smile.

“Yeah… Why are you saying it like that?” You say as you feel for a pair of jeans.

“It’s the second day in a row and last time we talked you hated him.” 

“I never said I hated him,” You find a pair of jeans and begin to put them on. “He’s the father of my child, I can’t hate him.” 

“But that doesn’t mean you have to spend every waking minute with this guy,” You roll your eyes.

“It’s all for the baby and you know that,” You grab the first shirt you find, “Besides he’s not really my type anyway.” You hear a sigh come out of Maria’s mouth.

“Sure, tall, dark, and handsome isn’t anyone’s type.” You finally turn to face her.

“Not that,” You run a hand through your hair, “It’s guys who are careless and don’t think ahead.”

“I know I know,” She stood up off the bed and her voice got a little quiet, “I just want you to be careful.” You put your hand on her shoulder and smile.

“I am Maria,” You then snicker before placing a hand on your belly, “As careful as I can be at this point.” She smiles before taking a step away. You look at your clock and see it’s 4:00, at that, you hear a car horn. 

“Fuck, ok. I’ll be back here at some point” You began speed walking out of the room and out of the apartment.

“Have fun,” Maria said, winking as you walk out the door. Nikki was waiting in his car. He watched you step down your steps, letting his eyes wander up your legs. You cannot help but let your cheeks flush as you walk up to the car door.

“Hey.” You say as you open it.

“Hey.” He watches you get in and sit down, “Ready to go?” You nod and he speeds off. There is a silence in the car. You both have no idea what to talk about. You let your eyes look out the window before trying to converse with this man.

“So where is this place?” 

“In West Hollywood.” He was curt today.

“Cool.” Was all you could say. 

He parked the car at a building you had never seen before. You get out of the car, walk up the steps and open the door. Immediately, you are blasted with a barrier of sound. You look a little startled by the noise and Nikki lets out a small laugh. You follow the heavy guitar to a room with many windows. Nikki opens the door to see all the eyes in the booth face you.

“Who’s this, Nikki?” A small but wide older man asks you.

“A friend.” He answers for you. You find it hard to make eye contact with this man. When you finally get the courage to look up, you notice him roll his eyes. He then walks over to the recording booth and presses a button. 

“Nikki’s here.” You then look at the windows and notice all the guys look up at Nikki and then at you. You give a small wave.

The guys begin to whisper to themselves as the two of you enter the recording area. You are immediately hit with the smell of cigarettes and weed. You try not to make a face as you give Nikki a curt smile. This all was beyond anything you had ever seen. The amount of instruments in one room was truly amazing to you.

“This is really cool.” You look around at your surroundings, never having seen such a room before.

“I just wanted to show you what I actually do.” There was a subtle bite to his words. He knew you looked down on his profession.

“Well, it’s really something.” You let your eyes finally wander to the other people in the room. They looked like they recognized you from the way their eyes were watching you. You clear your throat, “Hi, I think we’ve met. I’m (Y/N).”

“How could I forgot you beautiful,” The man you remember to be Vince said, looking you up and down. “How’s the baby?” You still feel discomfort at this question.

“Good, healthy.” You kept the answer short. Noticing your awkwardness, the older man chimed in.

“Nikki, want to play her a song?” You were intrigued. You had never heard one of their songs before. 

“Hell yeah. Something from the new album?” All the guys agreed and they started setting up their instruments. Nikki grabbed his bass and began tuning.

“So, (Y/N), do you rock?” The drummer asked with a goofy grin spread across his face. You shrug your shoulders lightly.

“I definitely like rock, but I prefer The Smiths and The Cure a bit more than heavy rock.” There was a silence in the air as the goofy grin fell and Tommy gave Nikki a look. Nikki pretended not to notice. 

“Maybe this will change your mind.” And at that, the drummer began playing a piano riff. It was simple, in C major but something about it was hauntingly beautiful. Suddenly the 7th was added in and then a minor. Vince began singing about being a dreamer and his heart of gold. You were drawn in as it did not seem to be as heavy as you expected. Then, Tommy stepped away from the piano and the guitar came in. This part was “heavy” as they called it. And you really liked it. More than you expected. You look over at Nikki and see him staring at you, waiting for your reaction. Your eyes lingered on each other. He really did look handsome holding that bass. His arms were flexed because of the instrument in his hands. There was a sense of passion that you had only seen a few times gleaming from his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile. He looked away and at Mick before banging his head to the beat. Once the guitar solo began, you knew you were hooked. And as quickly as the song began, it was over. You felt your hands instinctively come together to clap. Your eyes immediately went back over to Nikki and you saw him giving one of his rare smirks and made you feel a way that you did not want to think about. 

“That was amazing.” You gush, feeling like one of the groupies that you’ve heard about around the rock scene. 

“Glad you liked it hon,” Vince says, immediately letting his flirty persona take him over. You look over at Nikki, looking for another reaction upon his face. He was stone cold again and staring off. You watch where his gaze is wandering and you see nothing. His eyes were so focused on nothing and it confused you. There was silence, as you and the guys all waited for a response from Nikki, but nothing came. Your stomach sank slightly before you cleared your throat. You needed to get a bit of space from him.

“Do you guys know where I can find the bathroom?” You say like a child.

“I’ll show you.” Nikki pipes in, motioning for you both to leave the recording area. You did not want to go with him. You begin to walk faster than him out of the booth and into the hallway. “Where the fuck are you going?” He says, slightly jogging after you.

“The bathroom.” You say as curtly as he was saying before. 

“You don’t need to run there.” He says under his breath. You stop and turn toward him.

“What’s wrong with you?” He looks confused, “Yesterday you were kind to me and today you’re acting like I don’t exist. What the hell is up with that?” He looks off to the side as absentmindedly as he was before. 

“You can’t tell?” He said, letting an oddly playful smirk touch his lips.

“Tell what?” You cross your arms.

“I’m fucking high (Y/N).” He turned back toward you. You saw it now. His eyes, face, and actions all meant something now. 

“You’re fucking high?” Your voice begins to rise, “And you let me drive in the fucking car with you?” 

“It’s not a big deal, we both made it here in one piece.” You were shocked.

“That’s not the point Nikki, we could have died.” You throw your arms in the air. “What if the baby was with us? They could have died too.” 

“You’re overreacting.” His voice is starting to rise too. 

“I’m overreacting? You’re acting like a fucking idiot.” You scream at him.

“You can’t talk to me like that, you bitch.” He screams back at you. 

“Don’t call me a bitch.” Your voices were filling up the hallway. 

“Then stop acting like one.” 

“Fuck you Nikki, I’m leaving.” At that, you storm down the hallway and out the door. You step down the stairs and begin angrily making your way home. You look at the sky and see the sun is beginning to set. Perfect. That’s all you needed right now: to be pregnant and walking home in the dark. Great. You made it a few blocks before you heard a car pull up beside you. You look over, expecting to get robbed but instead see Nikki. You quickly look away and continue to walk. He pulls in front of the sidewalk so you cannot cross. He then rolls down the window.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” You cannot look at him.

“Home.” 

“You can’t walk home.” You roll your eyes.

“Watch me.” You begin to take a step around his car. At that, Nikki puts the car in park and hops out the side. “Get away from me Nikki.” You scowl at him and turn your body away.

“No.” You are fully turned away from him, watching the night sky begin to come out. You hear him sigh. “I know I acted like a jerk.” 

“That’s one way of putting it.” You whisper under your breath.

“That was wrong of me and I’m sorry.” You turn back toward him to see his arms crossed and see his eyes off to the side. 

“That was the shittiest apology I think I’ve ever heard.” He now looks at you, pissed.

“What the fuck do you want me to say.” He was now getting worked up.

“I want you to mean it.” He sighs and runs a hand through his long dark hair. He frustrated the hell out of you. 

“I’m sorry I was high and drove you to the recording studio.” You look at him, waiting for more. He clears his throat and continues. “And that I was high in the recording studio and said shitty things to you.” You were ok with this response, you begin to open your mount to say something when he continues. “I just don’t know how to act around you. I don’t usually hang out with girls like you and it honestly scares me that you might actually care.” That last bit caught you off guard. You might actually care? Where does he get off saying something that absurd? You look up at his eyes and this time he isn’t avoiding your gaze. He is staring intensely back at you. You feel your previous thoughts of anger leaving as he reached out and touched your shoulder. The skin where his fingers were tingled. “And I am happy that my child is going to have such a caring mother.” At that he turns away, ready to get back in the car. His hand leaves your shoulder but the tingling does not stop. 

Then, something snaps within you. 

You reach out and grab his hand. He stops in his tracks and looks back at you. No other thoughts are going through your mind at this moment, all you can think about is him. You then pull him toward you and he easily slips out of his spot on the sidewalk. Now, you two are face to face and for the first time all day, his eyes were perfectly clear. You feel your weight change to your toes as you lean up and lightly let your lips grace his. You began to pull away but his hand grabs your cheek and pulls you in close. You gasp and his lips are on yours. Suddenly, it was no longer nighttime in the middle of a busy Los Angeles weekday, it was his bedroom all those weeks ago. It was just the two of you and the mistakes of the past, present and future seemed to mean nothing. 

For now, at least they meant nothing. 

#nikki sixx #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx one shot #nikki sixx fan fic #nikki sixx imagine #together without you #Motley Crue #The Dirt #theatre of pain #Theater of Pain #The Dirt 2019 #Douglas Booth #douglas booth imagine #Tommy Lee #tommy lee imagine #Vince Neil #Mick Mars #80s #80s music #80s rock #rock #glam rock #crue head

[inkykeiji]

Hiii honey!!! I was a different anon who sent u blue moon motel and true love cafe by Nicole and trigger warnings didn’t even cross my mind either I’m so sorry about that! But I just wanted to say that the way that u described the feeling her music gives u is like very much so relatable. Her shit is very heavy and like kind of haunting??? And really beautiful at the same time. Idk happy u listened to her and enjoyed some though!! Have a wonderful rest of ur week bb!!

hello sweetpea!! ah YES i remember you!!! put my thoughts under a readmore becaaause they got a lil long ehehe <33

i gave both of those songs a listen and oH MY GOD i loved them!!! especially love the reference to clarence + alabama in blue moon motel <333 true romance is one of my absolute favourite films ever ever ever and i love their relationship so so so much <3

true love cafe i really loved because aaaah it reminded me of my boyfriend SO much and i just eeeee 🥺🥺🥺 we have a tradition to go to these dingy diners and get the same thing every single time (he gets a burger, i get their standard all day breakfast) and we always always always share a sundae for desert. if the diner doesn’t offer sundaes, we don’t go <3 so that song has come to mean a lot to me in a VERY short time ahahaha

but no for real, i’m so in love with her art. like, SO in love with it. i’m not gonna ramble on again about the way she manages to capture rural ontario’s WEIRD vibe (because i swear i could go on forever about this, literally have not found another artist in ANY medium able to capture those feelings ugh i can’t even DESCRIBE IT), and there are still a lot of her songs that hit a little too close to home for me—which, again, isn’t BAD, just raw and real and i have to be mindful of when i listen to them + the mood/mindset that i’m in BUT YESSSSS i am in love and in awe of her work. like i said, in my opinion it is just as important to find art that makes you feel so intensely as it is to find art that helps you escape (both being SAFE, tho!! like obv if i’m feeling really low + in the middle of an episode i’m not gonna go throw on nicole because that would be self destructive ahahah)

no need for apologies, i promise you there would’ve been NO way to prepare me for what her music was gonna make me feel, and there absolutely would’ve been no way for you to anticipate that!!! it’s all good <33 YEAH literally the embodiment of ‘hauntingly beautiful’!!! aww thank you, you too!!!

#i also keep finding little tidbits of information out about her and it's SCARY how much we have in common #like she also went to film school??? like i did??? she dropped out but i KNEW SHE was a cinephile there's just too many film references in #her work!!! #also was a metal head in high school (so was i lmao) #i think we'd get along well #OR we're too similar #idk!!! #but i'd like to believe we'd get along well ahahaha #ANYWAY ANON I AM RAMBLING YET AGAIN thank u for recommending these songs i loved them both!!!! and i'm glad you came back so i could tell u #my thoughts directly ehehe #please stay safe out there friend!! <33 #sweet anon 🥺 #clari gets mail #queuetin tarantino

[fanficimagery]

Mimic.

Relationship: Peter/Reader Words: 5, 287 Warnings: none. just a cuss word or two. Tags: Fluff and humor.

Imagine working alongside the Avengers and finding out your schoolmate is SpiderMan. The friendship quickly blossoms and you even wrangle Peter and Ned into matching costumes for Halloween.

Sitting in your last class of the day, you work easily as you piece together a video for an upcoming project Mr. Berman had assigned the class. He had preferred that his students piece together clips of their personal lives, but you weren't keen to let any of your fellow peers get that close of a look at your private life. So after a brief, yet tense, conversation with the teacher after class one day, he agreed to let you piece together whatever video you could come up with.

Immediately you knew what you wanted to do, downloading certain clips of your favorite movies and TV shows, and setting them to a song that you knew would hit people in the feels. The teacher had been skeptical at first, but when you showed him what you had so far one day, he was surprised to see the emotional aspect that even left his chest aching and wanting to see more.

It's while you're working on the video that your phone vibrates against your thigh, you glancing around to see where the teacher is at before pulling your phone out. And seeing that he's engrossed in his own computer at the front of the class, you slip your phone out to check the text.

From Nat to Y/N: Meet me out front 15 min after the final bell. To Nat from Y/N: Copy that.

Wondering why Nat is picking you up, your mind starts going off in different directions. So knowing you're not going to get any more work done, you download your project to your portable USB drive to work on over the weekend at home or wherever it is Nat and the others decide to take you.

The final bell soon rings to signify the end of the school day and you take your precious time getting to your locker. You refuse to make eye contact with anyone other than your locker neighbor, Ned smiling at you and nodding in greeting.

"Hi, Ned."

"Hey, Y/N. Excited for the weekend?"

You shrug as you put in your combination. "Eh. I'll probably watch Disney films and order in Chinese food."

He smiles. "That sounds like a good time."

"The best." Ned's friend walks up to him and you subtly straighten, friendly smile in place. "Hey, Parker."

"Y/N," Peter grins. "Excited for the weekend?" You and Ned both laugh as Peter frowns. "What'd I miss?"

"Nothing, man. Anyways, lets go. I got that new Lego set we need to start putting together."

Peter's eyes widen as he glances between Ned and you. "W-What? Lego set? Pfft."

You chuckle as you put your backpack inside your locker and make sure your USB drive is safely in your front jean's pocket. "Calm down, Petey. I'm not Flash. I won't think you're a loser if you and your best friend still play with Legos."

Peter looks as if he's going to say something, but his phone pinging stalls him. He reads something on the screen, his smile falling, and Ned sighs. "Postponed until tomorrow?"

Peter smiles sheepishly. "Sorry, Ned."

"No, it's cool." He then turns to you. "Well I guess I'll see you Monday, Y/N."

"Mhm. Laters, Leeds."

Peter scampers off just as you shut your locker, you smiling one last time at Ned as you make your way towards the bathroom. You waste what's left of your time in the bathroom, fixing yourself to look like school hadn't mussed you up. And then when your phone pings yet again with a message from Nat to tell you she's waiting out front, you exit the bathroom.

There are still a handful of students lingering outside and they're all staring at the shiny black car parked by the curb. The windows are tinted too dark to see through, but the car screams money so everyone is interested to see who gets in or out of it.

Groaning quietly, you duck your head and quickly climb inside the car. Then exhaling dramatically once hidden behind the dark tint, you look over to the grinning blonde. "I hate you."

"No you don't."

"Whatever. What's up?"

"Mission came up. James suggested you."

You sigh. "Fine." You settle back into your seat, frowning when Natasha drives in the opposite direction of the Tower. "Umm, where are we going?"

Switching lanes and then picking up speed, the blonde grins. "Airport. We need a private jet, not a quinjet. We need to be as inconspicuous as possible."

"Ahh. Okay."

The ride isn't terribly long and by the time they pull into the airport, you and Nat are giggling about the boy you currently have a crush on.

"I don't see why you don't just make a move," she says, handing off her keys to some individual who's going to park her car. "You're cute and this kid sounds adorable. Go for it!"

"It's not- I can't," you grin, chuckling softly. "I might hang out with superheroes, but I am not confident whatsoever when it comes to boys my age."

"Mhm. Sure."

You nudge her as you walk towards the jet, Nat walking up the stairs before you. Then plopping down on the seat closest to the door, you ask, "Can someone please explain to me, in small words, why I'm being assigned to this mission?"

"...Y/N?"

Your heads whips in the direction of the all too familiar voice, eyes widening. "Petey?!"

"Petey?"

"Shut up, Tony," you're quick to grumble, cheeks tinting red as you nervously cross your arms over your chest. The dawning, smug realization on Tony's face is enough to make you gulp. Then looking back at a completely flabbergasted Peter, you ask, "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

You and Peter continue to stare at one another, Tony, Natasha, Steve, and Bucky glancing between the two of you with amused expressions.

"Are they blushing?" Bucky quietly muses.

Natasha grins. "Totally blushing."

"Quiet, Natalia," you snap, narrowing your eyes at the blonde.

"As hilarious as I'm suddenly finding you two, lets get down to business," Tony says. "Peter is Spiderman and Y/N is Mimic."

"What?!"

"Mimic?"

You glance at Peter's confused expression, briefly concentrating and willing your appearance to shift right before his eyes. Feeling the rippling complete, you grin at your friend. "Mimic." Your voice is now deeper, yet still very much feminine as you take on the appearance of Natasha.

Peter's eyes are wide. "O-oh."

"Yeah." Exhaling softly, you change back to your normal appearance and glance at the other adults on the jet. "So what's up? Who's gonna debrief me?"

"It's fairly easy," Steve says. "We need a fresh face, someone our enemies have no knowledge of, to blend in. We've landed you an invitation to a party, so we need you to slip into the main office and download some programming onto the computer in there."

"Okay. Is there a possibility of combat?"

Bucky shrugs. "Only if you get caught, but you've got this, kid. You've trained with the best in both hand-to-hand combat and weapons."

"Yeah. I know." You plop down on one of the benches along the wall of the jet. "What else should I know?" You can't help but glance at Peter, smiling softly when you realize he's still staring at you. He hesitantly smiles back.

"Just in case things go sideways, Natasha, Peter, Bucky, and I will be on standby," Steve says.

Glancing at Tony then, he winks. "I'm just going along for the ride since it is one of my jets they're using. I'm too recognizable to be out there with you all. That and because it was my idea to bring in the other kid."

"Okay, well what about Nat, Steve, and Bucky? They're all recognizable too."

"We'll have photostatic veils." Natasha shrugs. "But us with the veils can't be seen acting suspiciously. You and Peter are the only ones with fresh faces."

"Whoa, wait, what? I can't show my face!"

"Sure you can," Tony says. "Don't worry about it. It'll be fine."

Peter looks like he wants to argue some more, but you speak up and cut him off. "Where's my folder? I need to read what's expected me while we fly."

"Sure." Steve walks over and hands you one of the files detailing the mission. "Don't read too fast. We're flying overseas. You have a long night ahead of you."

"Awesome," you deadpan.

          - X - X - X - X - X -

Having read over the file front to back and speaking to Steve about what you're to do in case things go sideways, you end up towards the back of the jet with one of Tony's spare laptops sitting on the table in front of you as you work on your class video project.

So engrossed on the screen in front of you, you don't realize someone's taken a seat next to you until your arm is nudged. Turning to your right, you grin softly at a clearly tired Peter and take out the left cordless earbud. "What's up?" You mumble quietly.

"What are you working on?"

"Class project. We were originally supposed to piece together home videos," you say, gesturing to the screen, "but I didn't want people to have that close of a look at what goes on in my life outside of school."

He smirks. "Like the fact that you hang out with Avengers? Or about Mimic?"

"Exactly. So instead I took clips from my favorite movies and TV shows, and placed a song to the scenes."

"Ooh. What song?"

You hand him the earbud you'd taken out with a grin and restart your half finished video for him to watch. "It's called Find You by Ruelle."

Peter settles in and watches what you currently have, and when it's done he glances at you in surprise. "That song is kind of.. hauntingly beautiful?"

"Right?"

"Are you trying to make your classmates cry?"

"Eh. It wasn't my attention, but if they cry at least I know I did a good job."

"Don't worry. You've done an awesome job so far."

Smiling at Peter, you can't help but nudge him in retaliation when his words of praise bring a heat to your cheeks. He knows the effect his words have had you if his twinkling eyes are anything to go by. "Knock it off, Spiderboy."

"Man. SpiderMan."

"Whatever. Wanna watch a movie?"

Peter chuckles and nods. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well since Halloween is just about a week away.." you trail off, saving the progress on your project before closing it out and bringing up your all time favorite Halloween movie.

"Hocus Pocus?" Peter muses. "Aunt May loves this movie."

"Yeah? Well settle in, Petey. We're watching it."

As the opening credits start, you arrange the screen so the both of you can see it perfectly as you lean back in your seat. Then seated back you realize just how close Peter is to you as your biceps are pressed together. He smiles as you lean against each other, earbud in place to hear the movie.

Fifteen minutes in and Peter's gone completely relaxed, his head on your shoulder. You continue to mumble along to the movie- word for word- and lightly smack Peter when he pokes fun at you for knowing the words by heart.

Forty minutes in and your head falls against the top of Peter's. He snuggles in and you smile at the adorableness of it all, and the two of you continue to watch the movie in peace.

You don't know when your eyes slip shut, but they do, and you're only woken back up when a blanket is being tucked around your left shoulder. Sleepily blinking open your eyes, you frown at Natasha. "What-"

"Shh," she quiets you. "We're still en-route. Go back to sleep."

"Okay." You glance to your right and are surprised to find Peter sleeping against you.

Smiling, you let your eyes slip shut once more. "It's him, isn't it?" Your eyes blink back open at Natasha's words. "The boy you like?"

"I-" She grins knowingly and you exhale softly. "It doesn't matter. He's.. Petey. And now that I know he's Spiderman? He's even more out of my league."

"Don't sell yourself short, Y/N." Smiling sadly, you shrug off Nat's words and try not to hurt your own feelings too much by realizing again that you don't have a chance with the cute boy asleep on your shoulder. "And for what it's worth, we're pretty sure he likes you back."

"Why do you say that?"

"Boys with crushes talk. And apparently Peter's talked to Tony. A lot."

"Whatever you say, Nat. Wake me up when we get there."

The next time Cap tells you a mission is going to be easy as pie, you're going to remind him of this particular mission. Everything that could have gone wrong, did go wrong, and you're the one who walked away with the most damage. You're grateful your identity will forever remain a secret, but it sucks that you don't have any nifty powers that allow you to heal faster. Instead, you're stuck with your average human healing abilities.

"I hate you guys," you mumble as Bucky carefully lowers you onto the jet bench. "I think my shoulder is dislocated."

"I'll take a look." As Bucky carefully cuts the strap to your dress to leave your left shoulder bare, he tuts at what he sees. "Want me to fix it?"

"If you can. Just give me a moment." Bucky hums, but just as you attempt to calm your breathing he's shoving your arm back into its socket. "SON OF A MOTHERFUCKER!" Tony and Peter enter the jet just as the words leave your mouth, Tony smirking and Peter gaping. "You're such an asshole, Barnes!"

"Language."

"Fuck you, Rogers. I'm a measly human. I heal slowly. I'm allowed all the curse words in the world."

Natasha enters behind Steve, smirking. "Cheer up, buttercup. You held your own perfectly."

"Yeah? Tell that to my shoulder, my stomach, and my face."

Steve hands you an ice pack for your face and you take it with a tight smile. "I'm just gonna head back into the bedroom and change. Do you guys need anything else from me?"

"No. You're good," Steve says. "Good job out there, Mimic."

"Thanks, Cap."

Limping back towards the bedroom, you toss the ice pack down while opening up one of the fancy closets built into the wall. You pull out a sports bra, a racerback tank top, and some cotton shorts. Then quickly changing, hissing through the pain, you settle onto the bed and lay down while icing down the side of your face.

Some time later, after you've managed to sit up and settle against the mountain of pillows, there's a knock on the door.

"Come in."

Peter pokes his head in. "Want some company? The adults are a bore."

Smiling tiredly, you beckon him in. "Sure. Come on in, Petey."

As he enters the room, you perk up when you see he's brought the laptop with him. "Mind if I sit? Mr. Barnes also said to give you these. Said that they're your favorite," he says as he reaches behind him into his pocket.

"Not at all." Peter pulls a package from the back pocket of his jeans and your eyes light up at the Strawberry Sour Punch straws he has. "Oh my god. Bucky might have given you the idea, but since you brought me the candy you're officially my favorite, Parker."

He crawls onto the bed with you, settling at your side with the laptop in his lap and hands you the candy. His fingers drum against the closed lid as he asks, "How are you holding up?"

"I've been better. I can't wait to get home and soak in an ice bath."

"I bet," he chuckles quietly. Silence briefly settles between the two of you before he's talking again. "So.. Mimic, huh?"

"Mhm. And Spiderman. How did that happen?"

"Believe it or not, it was a radioactive spider." You laugh in disbelief, but he assures you it's true. "What about you? Is it only people you can change into or animals too?"

"Just people," you tell him. "I can shift into another person to match them identically or, as you saw for the mission, change my features to whatever is needed and make up a completely new person."

"That's an awesome super power."

You shrug, blushing lightly. "It has its perks."

Peter grins at you and then clears his throat, opening the laptop up in his lap. "So since we saw your Halloween movie, it's only fair we watch mine."

"That's fair." You open the candy, pulling free a sugar coated gummy straw and bite into it. "Want some?"

"In a moment." Peter searches through the movies on the laptop and you're excited to see what he's going to choose. "Okay. Here we go."

He settles back and gets comfortable, reaching to grab a candy from the little plastic tray they came in. "Casper?" You muse. "Nice choice, Petey."

The two of you fall quiet as the movie starts, you immediately leaning against one another. The candy is quickly eaten and brief laughter is heard throughout the room. The part where Kat is on the verge of sleep when Casper is hovering over her, asking quietly can I keep you? comes to pass and you awe out loud.

Hooking your arm through Peter's, you lay your head on his shoulder. "I don't care if he's a ghost. That's so goddamn adorable."

"You're adorable."

Your heart beats triple, but you keep your cheek pressed to Peter's shoulder to avoid looking at him. "Shush, you."

He chuckles quietly, but does as he's told.

Casper gets turned into a real boy for the final dance of the Halloween party inside Kat's home and Peter smiles as you quietly squeal. The infamous words, can I keep you?, are spoken yet again and Peter can't help but laugh out loud at your reaction.

"Don't shame me. It's so freakin' cute!"

"If you say so."

You and Peter keep the movies Halloween themed up until the fourth movie, you switching it up and putting on UP.

"I love this movie so much."

By now you're laying down, practically draped over Peter's chest. You had originally thought it'd be weird, but Peter went with the flow and tucked one arm behind his head while the other traced random patterns on your back.

"It's great, but the beginning is just so sad for an animated movie."

You sigh softly. "Agreed." You watch Carl and Ellie through the years, your heart aching for the animated couple. "I need more friends," you mumble. "Someone I can strong-arm into dressing up as Mr. Fredricksen to my Ellie. Maybe even get a Russell."

"And Mr. Fredricksen can walk around with a bouquet of balloons." You gasp as you pause the movie, pushing up onto the palms of your hands and hovering over Peter as you stare at him in realization. His smile slowly falls and he quickly shakes his head. "No."

"Please?"

"No, Y/N."

"Come on," you pout. "It's perfect. We can even wrangle Ned into being Russell."

Against his better judgement, Peter laughs. "No. Besides, it's too close to Halloween. We won't find costumes."

"Uh, hello." You swat at him. "We have Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff on our side. And I'm sure your aunt May would just love to help out after we pitch the costume idea."

"Y/N.."

"Peter, please?"

He continues to stare at you until his gaze softens. "Fine."

"Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you." You beam, quickly falling back down on him before you can do something stupid (like kiss his cheek), and press play on the movie again.

With one arm draped across his abdomen and your ear resting over his heart, you can't wipe the smile from your face as you hear his rapidly beating heart thump away.

          - X - X - X - X - X -

"Rise and shine, kiddos. It's time to get up." Nothing. You hear the feminine voice, but you choose to ignore it. The arm around you tightens and you turn your face into Peter's chest. "Seriously, guys, get up. As adorable as this is, we've landed."

"Nat," you whine. "Get out."

"Like I said- adorable. You guys have ten minutes."

The door is shut and you sigh, pinching Peter's side when you feel him laughing. "M'sorry I fell asleep on you."

"I'm not. That was the best sleep I've had in awhile." As Peter starts to stretch, you roll over onto your back and do the same. "You always this grumpy?"

"Only when I'm still tired." You whimper and wince at the pain still lingering in your shoulder, and sigh and you sit up. "How's my face?"

Facing Peter, you close your eyes and let him inspect you. "I honestly thought it was going to be a lot worse than what it is. Your split lip is the worst of it."

"Awesome," you deadpan as he scoots out of bed. Then yawning, you gesture for him to go on. "I'll catch up with you later. We'll discuss costumes Monday at school."

"Alright." He lingers by the door and you smile softly at him as he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. His face seems flushed, but you've no idea why. "Yeah. I'll just- I'll see you later."

Peter exits the room and you allow yourself a brief laugh. Then making sure your hair isn't a mess, you exit the room where everyone but Peter is lingering around still, smirks on every face there. "I don't want to hear it."

"Adorable," Natasha muses.

"We had to keep Stevie from marching in there and separating you two," Bucky then says.

You wrinkle your nose. "We slept. Well we watched movies and then slept. Nothing scandalous went on."

Tony waffles his eyebrows. "So you gonna ask him out?"

"Ugh. Don't make it weird. We're hanging out on Halloween and I rather not be a stuttering, flustered mess."

"Aw. No horror movie marathon this year?" Steve frowns.

"Sorry, bub." Then looking between Nat and Tony, you ask, "Do either of you know someone in the makeup department who can make latex wrinkles for the face? I need to age up Peter for his costume. And probably a seamstress who can tailor our outfits once we find them."

Natasha immediately shrugs. "Sure. What are you going as?"

Smiling, you tell them. "Mr. Fredricksen and Ellie from that animated movie UP. I'm going to try and rope our friend Ned into being Russell, so we'll also need someone who can make an adult Boy Scout outfit for him."

"That.. is the most adorable thing I've ever heard." Tony says. "Don't worry about a thing. You and your friends stop by the tower after you convince your Russell to join you and we'll get everything squared away. The only payment I'll require is pictures. Pepper loves that movie."

"Done and done. Thanks, Tony."

As it turns out, Ned didn't need any convincing at all after hearing the costume idea. He was immediately game for it all, much to Peter's amusement. And then to make the deal even sweeter, the boys were relieved to learn that Tony Stark himself was taking care of everything they needed under the supervision of the Black Widow. Ned, of course, knew all about Peter's identity, so he didn't really bat an eye about the Avengers doing this stuff for them, but he was curious as to how you fit in. So after a couple days of dealing with Ned's suspicious behavior, you thought it only fair you come clean to him about Mimic.

Needless to say, Ned was super stoked to have two enhanced individuals that he could call friends.

Then in the days leading up to Halloween, Ned and Peter would not leave you be. You were friends to begin with, though you mostly spoke between classes, but now they purposely sought you out- Ned to make sure you guys wanted him to be Russell and Peter because.. well you weren't really sure. He was always smiling, flushed, and kept sheepishly ducking his head when you laughed at something he said.

Halloween was then here and the three of you rushed to Tony's tower to change. Peter was the only one who needed a professional makeup artist to age him up, and then later had a white substance sprayed into his hair and eyebrows for the elderly man look. You easily shifted your features and hair color, aging yourself up and then adding some glasses to match the age you made Peter portray as Mr. Fredricksen.

When Peter steps out in black framed glasses, a white button up, suspenders, and brown corduroy pants, your heart melts. "Oh my god," you gush. "Petey!"

He chuckles. "Looking good, Ellie."

You're wearing a green pant suit and flats, your blazer cinched at the waist with a brown belt, and a purple flower pinned to the right side of your chest. "Right back at 'ya, Carl."

"Alright, Alright. I will admit this is cute," Sam says as he leans against the wall. Mostly everyone had come to the tower to hand out candy down in the main lobby. "You did good, kids."

"Wait for it," Tony smirks. "It gets better."

Another door opens and Natasha walks out, chuckling. "This was seriously the cutest idea ever."

Ned walks out then, a book in hand with a miniaturized version of the movie poster for UP plastered on the front. He fixes his sash- which bears badges for every Avenger, Spiderman, Mimic, Stark Industries, and the logo for their high school- across his chest, beaming. Then walking up to Tony, he opens the book and pretends to read from it. "Good afternoon! My name is Russell and I am a Wilderness Explorer. Are you in need of any assistance today, sir?"

"No."

The group gathered around all laugh and Tony claps Ned in the shoulder. "When Pepper walks in, please say that to her. She's going to love it, kid."

"Goddammit," Sam then grumbles. "You kids gather around. My momma needs to see this," he says while taking his phone out.

"Not yet!" You're quick to say. "Our costumes aren't complete yet."

"No? What the hell else is there? If you got someone to dress up as a bird and squawk at random people, I'm done."

Peter and Ned snicker, shaking their heads. The elevator then dings, and out walk Steve and Bucky with an insane amount of helium filled balloons of every color.

"There. Now you can take our picture."

The balloons get handed to Peter as you and Ned flank him. Bucky also hands over a cane, chuckling while muttering about Peter being the old man now, and the trio have to endure picture after picture.

The elevator dings yet again, this time Pepper being let off. "Tony? What was so important that you made me come down as soon as possible?"

Tony coughs and nudges Ned. "You're on."

Stumbling forward, Ned fumbles with the book. He stops in front of Pepper and nervously clears his throat. "Good afternoon! My name is Russell and I am a Wilderness Explorer. Are you in need of any assistance today, ma'am?"

Pepper's eyes actually tear up as her laugh resonates around the room. "You guys! You're so adorable!"

"Thank you, Miss Potts," Peter says.

"Yes, thank you, Pepper," you smile, waving at her.

Her eyes widen. "Y/N?"

"In the flesh."

"Oh, Tony. Please tell me you got pictures."

"We did. Lots of them."

"While we'd love to stay and chat, we really should go," Peter then says. "We'll walk around for about an hour before coming back here to greet the kids with you guys."

"Sounds good. Have fun, you three," Steve says.

          - X - X - X - X - X -

Trick-or-Treating for your own candy is a bit hard when everyone really loves your costume. You have no idea how many times you've been stopped and asked to have a picture taken- either just you, Peter, and Ned, or you three with a child who'd been a fan of the movie- but it's still a fun night nonetheless.

When you return to the tower, it's a full blown mad house. Everyone seems to want to take advantage and enter the tower to meet the Avengers, but Tony and the others had made it clear the candy was for children and those with special needs when it became too much. The overzealous, adult fans had to be turned away and in the end the line outside was cut down a significant amount.

"Has it been like this the entire time?" You ask, sidling up next to Bucky. He nods. "Damn."

"Excuse me, miss? Do you think my kids can get a picture with you and the others in costume from the movie UP?"

Bucky grins. "Looks like you're up, kid."

You turn to the mother who'd asked the question and smile. "Sure thing. Let me just go get them."

So as the Avengers pass out candy to overeager children, you, Peter, and Ned pose for pictures with even more children. Halfway through, however, a familiar tune starts to play throughout the lobby. It's the Married Life tune from UP, the song that plays while the movie flash forwards from Carl and Ellie's wedding up until her death. You giggle, swaying back and forth in place, as the music gets louder. Everyone starts to take notice, oohhing and awwing.

"Would you- would you like to dance?" Peter nervously asks.

You glance at him, eyebrows raising in surprise. "What?"

"Dance. With me," Peter says, gulping. "I'm not the best, but we can keep it simple."

Slowly smiling, you laugh with a nod. "Sure. Lets do this."

Peter takes your hand and leads you out into the middle of the crowd, and you nervously laugh. "Oh my god. Is it weird that I'm nervous?"

"No. I am too."

Meeting his gaze, you furrow your brow as you seem just how nervous he actually is. "Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah! Yeah. I'm just- excited."

You chuckle. "Okay. If you say so."

With your right hand encased in Peter's left and raised out, near shoulder level, your left hand lays on his shoulder while his free hand goes to your waist. The steps are rather simple, Peter leading you in a box step before turning and then doing it all over again. Every now and then he twirls you, much to everyone's ooh's and aww's, and you always come back to him with a laugh.

"Natasha was right, you know?" He suddenly blurts. "That day on the plane."

"What?"

W-We fell asleep watching movies. Or at least you thought I fell asleep, but I was awake. Natasha figured out it was me who you liked."

Your smile falls. "Peter.."

"I like you too." His eyes subtly widen at his quick admission and you can't help it. You snort and that seems to put him at ease once more. "If anyone is out of anyone's league, it's you. You are so far out of my league. Even Ned makes jokes-"

"Peter?" You cut him off.

"Yeah?"

"Just kiss me already."

He smiles wide before hesitantly leaning in to press his lips to yours, but the moment is ruined when Tony's voice resonates around the room. "Mr. and Mrs. Fredricksen, keep it PG. There are children still here."

You and Peter jerk back from one another, blushing, and you narrow your eyes when you see Sam reluctantly handing over money to a smirking Bucky.

Of course they'd make a bet on you and Peter.

#fanficimagery #imagine #marvel imagine #peter parker imagine #spiderman imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter x reader #peter x you #peter parker #marvel #avengers #natasha romanoff #tony stark #bucky barnes #steve rogers #ned leeds #pepper potts #sam wilson

[anteroom-of-death]

Life, For Dummies p10

a/n: too long, i am now brain dead. time for death. but enjoy this crappy cracked inside look at my ongoing mental health crisis. fluff, lemon, intrigue and gift giving ensue!

You sat at the table, too excited to drink most of your coffee, only a few frazzled sips here and there. The looming threat of a surprise had you on the edge of your seat. He was very good at hiding them from you, save for a few hints here and there to help you deduce what it was, then praising you for how clever you were. 

But this one? No hints! Nothing you could think of to even suggest one besides the faint mention last night…

It was making you even more manic than he was. And he was dancing around the console room, singing a song, fiddling with wires and occasionally booping you on the nose as he attached devices to the TARDIS’s mainframe. 

“Oh, my pet, you’re really gonna love this!” He’d occasionally jeer at you. You were toiling away in your mind, wracking it for all it was worth.

You had a few more sips and decided to take a mental chill pill. You inhaled and held your breath, then released it. You once took a class on DBT during your year of longing and were trying to remember the steps to a healthy breathing pattern. 

You shook yourself sane again. He was winding you up on purpose most likely.

You eventually questioned, “So, what are you going to do? Go back to the night of my 16th birthday and save me from a truly horrible fashion incident?” 

He paused at that and inhaled, “I could spend a million years studying humans and you still say the darndest things!” He laughed then went back to his mania.

You spoke quietly into your coffee, “Yeah, and Time Lords are really such easy reads..:”

You got up and shuffled back to your room, going for your medicine chest and taking a few painkillers as a precaution. With his dancing across the console and all the thinking that you were doing, you felt like it was a justified choice. 

You felt indescribably thankful he let you have a big room and a separate bathroom from him, even a little balcony of sorts with a simulation of whatever surroundings you wanted to fall asleep with if you wanted. It allowed you a solitary sanctuary for just you, your thoughts and your own little things. He rarely came in, only on invite. You were beyond thankful. 

Kept you sane and reminded you that you were a human, and human was good. 

Even when he would rail against humans in general, it was hard to keep centered, what with you earning a universal reputation and your dual infamy as a couple. You, in the eyes of many weren’t as weak as your humble heritage suggested. Some people even thought you were a Time Lady. 

You, in your humble human eyes, thought that was hilarious.

If they ever knew that they were under fear of a human? 

Not that the growing sadist in you didn’t want to reveal that one time and see the wheels of brains turn and explode.

You stretched and got back to the console room and sat down, he was starting to flip switches. 

“Oh, I got a good feeling this will work!” He pet the underside of your chin and kissed your lips gently. You pressed it more and kissed him back. 

You went to take your usual position as co-pilot but he swotted your hands away and tsked. “No, no. Special treat. Pets aren’t in need to know.” You rolled your eyes as you felt the TARDIS lurch violently and shudder to a stop.

“Off you pop. Outside.” He shooed you to the door and shrugged on his jacket. 

You walked out into a near-blinding white void. If it weren’t for the obvious bottom you were walking on, you would’ve been highly concerned you were going to fall for an eternity and a day. 

It also felt hauntingly room temperature. A little too even. 

You turned to him, the open door, his outfit, him and you being the only colors in this massive nothingness. “What is this place?” You looked at him and were not sure whether or not to be put out or confused. 

“Soon...give it time…” He purred. 

You turned around and put your face in your hands to hide it. A slight groan slid out of your throat. 

You decided to follow his instructions and went around mildly exploring to see what this all was. Maybe it was some gift and he was having it be hidden somewhere within all this white?

Maybe this was some obscure Time Lord fetish?

In your mind, this was going on forever. 

“Is it time yet?” You whined.

He was breathing gently, whispering eyes closed, suddenly the eyes snapped open, “Oh, I feel it soon, some are not mentally cooperating here.” He smirked like an inside joke happened to befall him, and only him.

You blew out air from your lips and let it bubble over your lips. You were getting very bored. You blinked a few times pointedly in his general direction and sighed melodramatically and twirled at your hair.

You began to rub at the bridge of your nose in frustration and were about ready to march your ass back in there and shut this whole thing down. Then the hair on the back of your neck began to prickle and you felt the air pressure shift and drop suddenly. As if you were in a plane that made a hard landing or something. Your ears certainly were popping and crackling like a bowl of wet Rice Krispies.

A gentle, yet persistent ringing started in your ears as what sounded like a door slamming open. You yelped and legged it to the TARDIS door before the Master comically caught your arm and turned you around.

“I’m arriving!” He pointed out as a man who resembled that Prime Minister that killed the US president then was shot by his wife but older and hotter strode out, eyes both fish dead and suspicious and alight, with your screwdriver in his hand.

He was dressed in all black save for a sliver of red on an inner lapel. 

The Master shot some sideways finger guns at him and smiled, “Welcome me!” He then raised his hands in a very “let’s do lunch!” Fashion. “The other may be coming soon! Pet! Come meet my past!” He pointed at himself then made a flourish with his arm towards the taller man

“Your past?” The man glared at the Master.

“Don’t tell me this is what I become…” He crossed his arms cynically. 

“Meet the Master!” He proudly showed you off, holding a possessive hand on your shoulder and hunching down as he spun you around and forward. “I’ve got to drag the best of me kicking and screaming here and make it so I don’t remember this at all.” He smiled and flopped his hands out and up.

You offered a cautious hand out to the man before you. 

He took it, but looked highly annoyed, especially after Your Master started speaking in Gallifreyan and even begged a bit.

“Has anyone ever told you that you look like that crazy Prime Minister?” You asked after a long, uncomfortable silence.

“Oh, you’re very observant!” He replied, bitingly sarcastic. “Does he keep you around for your excellent inductive reasoning skills?” He kept looking at Your Master, like he was so disappointed and pissed off.

He went over and you grabbed at his arm and instructed, “Don’t interrupt him.” You smarted. 

He looked at you and went to his screwdriver, and you went to yours. Like a bad western movie- high noon happening in the white void.

“That’s mine!” He growled and went for it.

You stuck your tongue out at him, “Mine now!” 

This Master was hot, but an annoyance. None of this Master’s tenderness nor wit.

He glowered at you and you rolled your eyes as you saw two waltz out of other doors in the void. A tall man with green snake-eyes and a floor length Matrix coat and a small dandy sort in a smart old fashioned suit. 

Your Master stopped and snapped back to reality. 

“Welcome!” He cooed. 

“This is my pet...and once Missy and another one of me come…’ He shrugged and blushed and smiled, his fingers twiddling on the backs of his hands, he looked half gone mentally, but you had to admit, the disheveled look really did suit him best. It was so slutty and his blush suited his favorite purple and gold tones so well. 

“I have a special request!” He smiled and gaped his mouth.

You were scraping the palms of your hands with your index fingers trying to get your attention back to assess these new Masters before you. 

Though, you though, You were finally going to meet the shopkeeper killer hat lady herself! That was a fun thought.

The tall one was an American and he just waved and did a half nod. 

The dandy strutted towards you with such confidence. “A radiant beauty..” He brusquely whispered, kissing your hand like a prince from a Disney film. “I am, as you know, the Master.” He traced an elegantly gloved hand down the side of your face, “Tell me, what luck did happen to me, to find such a beautiful travel companion.”

You half scrunched your face, half beamed, as this one was trying to charm the pants off of you. “Honestly, just kind of happened. He saw me once and decided to steal me.” You laughed and felt yourself curtsy. 

Your Master came over and chuckled, “Did you just curtsy?” 

You looked at him and made a jumble of indignant noises at him. He rolled his eyes and turned you around, a man dressed head to toe in velvet with tails and a neat beard and glowing blue eyes came forth and looked like he hit the jackpot. 

“A room filled with me? My my, aren’t I a lucky bastard.” He licked his lips and raised his eyebrows. 

“Hello, sailors and soldiers.” A sharp Scottish accent trilled out as a short woman dressed like Evil Mary Poppins undulated out, “And human?” She asked. “Oohhh…” She leered and sat on an umbrella she had, kicking her leg out.

“Has my male egos gotten big enough for an orgy?” She cheesed.

Your Master clapped his hands and tried to get order, “I’m right. This is an orgy.” 

“My beautiful, talented, dashing and clever little girl here has always wanted to be in an orgy and also wanted to be in a gang bang.”

You slammed your palms to your forehead and shrieked, “Some thoughts! Are meant! To be! Private?” Hitting a new octave with every breath.

He smiled, “Pet, it’s only me who knows.” Half assuring you, half mocking, “Well, now me...and me. But it’s only technically two people.” 

The beardy Prime Minister one balked, “You assembled us all together to please some sack of ape flesh?”

“Hey, in an indeterminate amount of, G-d knows how much time, this sack of ape flesh? Your main squeeze.” You called him out and curled into your Master’s side. 

“Now, I don’t wanna share, and I want her dreams to come true, so I’ve been assessing her crushes she’s had over the years, from Hans Gruber to the gal who played Lilith in Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, and I’ve gotten the best of us together.” He started to justify, with hand gestures.

“So, since she’s been really good lately, and she’s excelled in her Gallifreyan lessons and her TARDIS flying skills are way better than the Doctor…’ He paused, as if he were Jerry Seinfeld, doing a punchline. 

He raised his arms. 

“Have at her, just return her in one piece.”

He leaned down and whispered into your ear, “Happy birthday, little pet…”

You turned to him, and your mind raced. Was it your birthday? You’d lost track of all remnants of time. But if your birthday was today, what an interesting gift.

There was a mixed assent from the assembled audience. 

Missy was already taking her clothes off singing some outdated bubblegum pop song. 

The swarthy one went and slightly dragged Your Master to the side while the Prime Minister one lounged playing with his laser screwdriver. The rest of the Masters were comparing and contrasting a very different screwdriver. 

Missy, with all the energy of a drunk preschooler was already naked and prancing around cheering, “Mommies got some moves to show you all!”

You were having a moment or two, a semi-nervous creak escaping your lips.

“But, I cannot take a partner I do not yet know!” You heard the swarthy one counsel to Your Master. “And presumably will forget once this is over...no paradoxes or rips in time to create, I presume?” 

Yours leaned over gently and placed his hands on his knees. “Trust me, this one’s worth it. And duh, I’m not a moron.” He assured his younger self.

“Go strike up a conversation- she’s loads of fun!” 

You were feeling a bit overwhelmed.

But oddly ballsy. 

“Okay,” you nervously demanded answers, “Before we begin…” You glared at the Prime Minister pointedly, “Does anyone have an STDs? Can Time Lords get the clap?”   

“Why did you think I have one?” 

“Harry Saxon fucked. A lot of your ex interns told tales after you got nerfed by your dang wife. To the Press.” You straightened up and took a bold step forward. The ghost of who you were outside this room creeping into your core. If it was your birthday, the birthday girl couldn’t be spoken down to in any way, shape or form. A fire built in your chest.

“Unless you’re scared of disappointing me? What is your current body lacking?” You made a hooking motion and crinkled your nose at him.

“Give me a reason I shouldn’t kill you.”

You rolled your eyes but suddenly Missy popped onto your shoulder, pressing her naked body into the fabric of your clothing. “Come on, let’s have fun! If no one else is going to ruin you, I will!” She blew a raspberry in your ear before yanking you down and pantsing you on the spot. 

“Nice bottom!” She drew on in her brusque Scottish accent before pinching your ass hard.

She pulled you down on top of her and wrestled you down from behind before pinning you down with her legs. 

She smiled and hunkered down before biting your neck and licking the blood she drew off your neck. 

“Girls night!” She screamed as she somehow managed to produce a strap on that was both hyper realistic, yet comically large out of the pockets of her nearby overcoat. “Stay put, poppet, Mommy’s going to fuck you much harder than Sad-Eyes over there can!”

You looked over, noticing that Velvet Daddy Master was stroking his cock watching you and Missy tangle on the floor and Your Master had taken to arguing with the Silver Prime Minister Master. Your Master hit him on the top of the head. (Quite a feat considering the three inches that the victim had on Your Master.) The Swarthy Gentleman Master sat watching the thing, a twinkling of mischief in his eye as he lazily lit a cigar and observed. Obviously weighing pros and cons. You could respect someone who did that. 

“Watch it kiddies!” Missy said whipping her strap around before entering you without any regard for other foreplay besides wrestling and biting. 

You screamed a little. 

“Oh! You scream! Fascinating!” She flicked a switch on the side of the harness and it began to vibrate as she shivered. You assumed it was pleasuring her as she thrust into you. 

The Velvet one made his way over and pet your lips gently with a velvet gloved hand. He had his bare hand on his pale, long cock. 

“You have such elegant lips! I think I’ll fuck your face to feel them...” He muttered, almost making it seem like a question. 

He gently stroked your lips and gently slid a few gloved fingers in, mesmerizing you gently, taking precautions with you. He seemed like a good fellow, like someone who’d get the door for you just to see your ass walk in. Filthy but genteel.

He stroked your hair before he pardoned himself into you, gently thrusting in and out of your mouth while Missy made like a runaway jackhammer. 

So many emotions took over you, and sensations. 

The American Master sat behind Missy and stroked your legs and sucked on your toes. You had to stifle a laugh so as to not bite the cock in your mouth. If anyone was to have a toe worship fetish, it had to be the American. 

Your Master walked over and asked you if you were having fun and felt okay, you gave a quick thumbs up.

He laughed and sat next to you, crossed legged. 

“So, after this, I figured we would go to Taco Bell and or a Nandos. I have another gift to give you.” He told you, as if you were leg up on the side of the counter and he was making coffee, plotting the day. 

The nonchalance was oddly off-putting…

You felt guilty for that thought, here he was ripping time and space apart, probably committing several war crimes and doing ten other unnatural things and you were focused on his tone of voice. 

He hummed lightly as he stroked your skin lovingly. 

The American Master bent Missy over and asked her to move along and made her sit somewhat on his lap, while he entered your ass with no prep and started massaging and tweaking at Missy’s nipples, which truly kicked her and him into a speed competition. You were mildly worried and aroused and so confused at once, but all your faith that Your Master would monitor this all.

You felt him in your mind, Assuring you that the moment you were no longer having fun, that he’d shove all them away with all he had and anything that it would take, and that he’d spend the rest of the day taking care of you. 

Despite generally being into this, you nearly cried. He really did care about you.

The Silver one was sulking, but eying up the scene with a primal curiosity. Not that you had much of a view of anything at that moment, but with your heightened awareness and all the nerves in your body rapid firing, sending many messages, you were picking up on everything.

It was a kind of heaven though. You were being used and pleasured and you had to admit, the Master was hot in all these bodies. Your Master had given you an attractive smorgasboard of himself. You just had to focus on being a hole and enjoying this experience. 

The Swarthy Master came over and still had his cigar and twirling it. 

“Elder me, my dear. May I take over massaging. I cannot partake currently in experiencing this vision carnally, but I can pleasure her!” He produced a small vial of a fragrant oil and massaged your breasts and abdomen and hips. He found the tight knots in your shoulders and lightly moved his other self as he straddled you and lightly sat on you, working on your shoulders and you felt him release a warmth into your brain. It wasn’t like Your Master’s mind probing, but it was similar enough that you let him in and he pleasured you mentally. You felt two Masters in your mind and it was highly irregular and yet, totally reconcilable. Your Master was guiding you, protecting you and keeping check on you, this one was giving you pleasure and a tender warm, tingling relaxation. 

You gave in to all the sensations and breathed in and out of your nose. You had literally nothing to do, as everyone seemed to be self sufficient here. 

You liked feeling useful.

So you just let the two Master’s presences take over you.

Soon enough though, you saw the Silver one come over, completely stark naked and start shoving versions of himself over in an untamed fashion and fully erect. 

“I’m going to cum in your whore!” He spit at your Master, who was tenderly holding your hand and stroking your thumb. “And you lot are just going to have to continue elsewhere.” He ordered. “Then I’m leaving!” 

Your Master was about ready to tell him off, but you patted him and looked compassionately. “Hey, let him. Then we can continue on without his grumpy aura around.” You smiled then smirked at the two.

He shoved Missy out of you and plunged in, bracing his full weight over you and thrusting and berating you and your Master, as well as making an alphabetized list of why humans were the lowest species to ever evolve. It was fun but he came and then went. 

Afterwards you all lazily returned to your dogpile, Missy attacked your hair with fake flowers and florist berries she kept dragging out of her coat's pockets. 

They all came, and you came multiple times. 

Missy opted for a girl chat after her orgasms and doing your makeup and hair fancy, “For your date night...keep fresh…” She ordered, smearing you with kisses.

The Swarthy gentleman gave you a few puffs of his cigar and kissed your hand, “My dearest, I was pulled from an important meeting with some Autons, but I regret not taking company with you in this lifetime.” Then kissed you deeply, in a very old Hollywood style then shaking Your Master’s hand, “You take care of her. You need her more than she needs you.”

He rolled his eyes at that and you thought you heard him mutter, ‘Duh.”

One by one the other Masters left after communicating.

Missy was the last, kept trying to convince you to run away for more girlie time and “Mommy’s special fun!”  You laughed and hugged her, assuring her that waiting would be worth it. And more fun for her.

She left after a pouting match with your Master. 

“They’ll forget this ever happened.” You said sadly, returning to the inside of your TARDIS.

“But you won’t.”

You went and got cleaned up, you had already arrived outside of a Taco Bell, and the Master was dressed down in a tee-shirt, a button up, a patterned outback vest and jeans with purple socks.

You ordered your food and sat on the swirling high seats and sipped at your drink.

The Master produced a small box and handed it to you, his big eyes beaming at you.He never looked more beautiful, all filled with himself. You had the best looking one, and he was yours. He smelled the best and every cell of him screamed “Home” and “Yours”.

“Be careful, that canary you ate might ruin your burrito.” You observed. 

Carefully opening the box, you found a diamond on a long silver chain.

“Wow. It’s so beautiful!” You kissed his cheek, “Thank you!”

“It’s a warp star. You crush it and it’ll explode anything that I can’t keep you safe from…” He swallowed down harshly, “Because…” He swallowed again, “Because…” He inhaled sharply and let it out quickly, “I love you.” Then he clammed up and took a big sip, blushing furiously. A tear starting to leak from his eye and more threatening in the other.

You started to cry, “You love me?” You questioned. 

It took a few more side-eye sips and a shaky breath, “Yes. I love you.”

You knew how hard that it was to admit that for anyone, especially him. You hugged him and fastened it to your neck, it dangling beautifully under your collar. 

With a careful whisper, “I love you too…”

“Happy birthday little pet.”

“Thank you, Master. Best one of my life.” She smiled and pulled yourselves together.

You both finished your meal and walked hand in hand to the TARDIS. He bathed you again that night and you joined him in the solarium, you fell asleep shortly after him.

You dreamed a dream of him, your Master. Your One, your Only, yours and no one else's...

#personal #i wrote this #dhawan!master #dhawan!master x reader #everyone from Delgado to Dhawan #dhawan!master x you #doctor who self insert fiction #the master x you #the master x reader #the master #the master x the master #lemon #so much is wrong with me #and i shall never write anything this long again

[bbbrianjones]

so i was tagged by @david-watts​ to do the top ten songs i have been obsessed with lately and, at first, i thought i would skip it because i had already done a similar tag last week and most of the songs would be the same which is quite boring HOWEVER i recently discovered more songs and they are completely different [well some!] from the other songs so here they are!! [with some extra notes about why i love them!!!]

1. golden brown by the stranglers

this song. HOLY SHIT THIS SONG!!! i seriously doing my tag this way because i want to talk about this song !!! i don’t think i can describe anything more magical than this song. there is something about it that is so hauntingly beautiful that i simply must listen to it again and again and again. hopefully i will never get sick of this amazing song because i just love it so much. it’s like my heron. have a guess what i’m listening to right now as i right.

2. sweet dreams, tn by the last shadow puppets

this song always feels like sucker punch to my heart. it has everything my hopeless romantic heart could ever want. even if the lyrics make no sense, it adds to the whole element of the song. he’s just so hopelessly in love with this person that he can’t comprehend proper wording. and i think that is a mood for anyone who has been there before!

3. shake the disease by depeche mode

there is something about this song which is so painfully relatable that i can’t help but love it. the music is very depeche mode [you could confuse it for a dishwasher] but once that chorus with the lyrics hits, i don’t think i can describe the emotions it sends me into and what i have to come down from after it goes.

4. only i could die [and still love you] by dance exponents

it’s so eighties that i developed a mullet just by listening to it. i have loved this band for a while but i have only discovered this song which is such a shame because i think it’s so good. just like a lot of songs from this band, the vocals are so guttural and the guitar just drives the song into another dimension. 

5. when i dream by the teardrop explodes

one of my all time favourite people in the entire history of the world adored this band so hearing it for the first time, i couldn’t help but smile at how cheesy and almost bubblegumish it was. but that is certainly not to say it’s a bad song because i love it so much. it makes me feel a lot closer to this certain person listening to it as well!!

6. tin solider by small faces

my love for the small faces has come into full force again after meeting another small faces fanatic [hello sarah!] and steve marriott is so unforgettable in this song that it has stayed with me for so long, even if i haven’t listen to them in a while.

7. peaches by the stranglers

THAT BASSLINE!! sexy. erotic. seductive. alluring. just all things hot is probably the best way to describe it just MY GOD. their minds when they wrote both that bassline and this sexy song. i remember listening to it and blushing so hard because of the subject matter [and a certain word which gets mentioned!] but now i can’t get enough of it!!

8. you stole the sun from my heart by manic street preachers

my lovely bestie sommer gave me a list of songs to listen to by manic street preachers and this song shone out [as did many others] and got quickly added to the playlist. it’s so nineties  and. at the time i wasn’t in the best state of mind but there was something about this song which gave me something to bounce back from. 

9. she’s a rainbow by the rolling stones

this song is terribly beautiful and wonderful. definitely the kind of songs i would melt if it was written about me. wonder if john paul jones and nicky hopkin’s backs hurts from carrying this whole song. without the strings and that gorgeous piano, it wouldn’t be anywhere near as good as the song we were blessed with having!!

10. she bangs the drums by the stone roses

it would not be me if i didn’t mention this song!!! the song is so charming and soft that i can’t help but feel my heart just warm with pure joy when listening to it. all my impulsive daydreams are 100% based around this song and i’d like to thank jonathan thomas squire for writing the cutest chorus ever and his backing vocals, which i believe makes the song just so much more sweeter [and better!]. i have probably bored my followers to death talking or mentioning this song but it’s so wonderful !! the world would be so much better if people just listen to this song i swear!!!

#tag #thank you for coming to my ted talk #hmu if you have any song recommendations. i would love to hear them !!

[hermionegranger56]

ok lads its time for my breakdown of folklore, something absolutely no one is asking for but here we are!! this album. thIs ALBUMMMM. dear GOD. the intersection of my two favorite things, taylor swift and indie folk???? i feel like i’m dreaming. when she announced the surprise drop i literally burst into tears and evidently for good reason lol.

anywho here’s the thing. Red has been my all time favorite album for 8 years now. it holds such an important place in my life and i never thought anything she did could come close (though Lover almost did). but this. THIS IS BETTER THAN RED

the lyrical genius is unmatched here. taylor isn’t just writing songs here, this is POETRY. every song is nuanced, intricate, devastatingly beautiful, with words that’ll haunt me for a long time. and the fact that it’s stories, literal folklore, no longer just about her own life is incredibly creative and is executed so well for someone who has interwoven her life into her entire body of music thus far. folklore blends facts with fiction so seamlessly and is a true exhibition of taylor’s power as a songwriter.

and the vibessss!! from haunting heartbreak songs, to ethereal lost-in-the-woods vibes, to a comforting return to her old self, this album has everything. taylor is without a doubt one of the most versatile artists of our generation, having success and skill in multiple genres and folklore only solidifies this fact.

ALL RIGHT KIDS LETS JUMP IN

the 1: hell yeah explicit tswift give it to me lol you ARE on some new shit!! ok when i first listened to this i hadn’t read her statement about the other perspectives and i was about to RIOT about her and joe breaking up (like they could ever lol). this is such a catchy beat, such a casual?? look at such a painful feeling? a really good start to this album. the part where she goes another day waking up aLONE killlllllls me wow

fave lines: “in my defense i have none/for never leaving well enough alone”

cardigan: (don’t get me started on the mv it’s gorgeous) YES THE TEENAGE LOVE TRIANGLE suchhh a good concept!! the melody of this song is unreal, the chorus makes me want to scream it’s so beautiful, the i-i-i is SOMETHING ELSE. it’s crazy how just the melody makes betty’s pain so palpable, but so enchanting at the same time. it’s bittersweet and cinematic and i’m in love. PETER LOSING WENDY GOD. easily top 5 song here

fave lines: “when you are young they assume you know nothing”, “cause i knew you/ heartbeat on the high line/ once in 20 lifetimes i” “you drew stars around my scars/but now i’m bleeding”

the last great american dynasty: watch hill!!! her watch hill house!! i live near there!! oh i think this song is so clever and i love how it ties into mad woman as well as harkens back to starlight. i LOVE the way she ties her self in, “and then it was bought by me” like ughhh her mind? and its catchy AF

fave lines: “i had a marvelous time ruining everything”

exile: YOU KNOW HOW TO DO AN INDIE ALBUM??? BRING BON IVER INTO THIS SHIT!! wowww this song is haunting and is definitely the “i’m you but stronger” version of The Last Time. the overlap of both of them singing and their parallel lines are flawless. i could play this on repeat for hours and contemplate my whole existence

fave lines: “you never gave a warning sign/i gave so many signs”

my tears ricochet: ok somehow a track 5 with tears in the title is not the saddest song here but DAMN is it good. I love the visual of someone watching over their funeral and reacting. the music is stunningggg here. ALSO i am pretty convinced this is about the whole scott/scooter drama, like the lyrics fit so well? and she said it was the first song she wrote so the timeline kinda fits?? geniusss

fave lines: “I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace”, “and if i’m dead to you/why are you at the wake?”

mirrorball: ohhhh this one is so pretty!! it just makes me want to dance around the kitchen with the person i love??? its comforting, ethereal, happyyy ugh i love it. I also think it could be about her relationship with her fans? like her music shows us different sides of ourselves idk? or just absorbing into a relationship?

fave lines: “on my tallest tiptoes/shining just for you”

seven: i’m gonna call this now: this is going to be the most underrated song on this album. it is STUNNING. POETIC. HEARTBREAKING. the music is so hauntingly nostalgic. and the lyrics, holy absolute shit. they’re a delicate testament to childhood, memory, and innocent love. it’s gut wrenching and i love it so so much

fave lines: “i’ve been meaning to tell you/i think your house is haunted/your dad is always mad/and that must be why”, “and just like folk song/our love will be passed on”, “before i learned civility/ i used to scream ferociously” ALL OF IT

august: and now we get the girl james cheated with’s perspective, which i think is great. its sunny, wistful and sad underneath all that beautiful production. when she slides from the chorus to the “back when we we’re changing for the better” and hits that “mineeee to lose” GOD, it just fills your chest. i feel like even if you never have, this makes anyone feel like they know exactly what a summer fling feels like. one of my faves

fave lines: “august slipped away/like a bottle of wine”, “cancel my plans just in case you call/ and say meet me behind the mall”

this is me trying: the slow pacing of this melody serves to show these EXQUISITE lyrics here. this is so intimate and personal and i feel like everyone can relate to this feeling of just trying to hold on and put on a brave face?

fave lines: “they told me all of my cages were mental/ so i got wasted like all my potential”

illicit affairs: ok all you need to know about this one is a) I’m obsessed b) this is the closest she has come to creating a bridge that makes me feel like the All Too Well bridge has, like scream sobbing in the car type vibe??? its unreal. and this song makes me feel that shitty feeling of: “this was supposed to be casual but oops its very much not” hmmm maybe that’s where the scream sobbing comes from hahah

fave lines: “don’t call me kid/don’t call me baby/look at this godforsaken mess that you made me/you showed me colors you know i can’t see with anyone else”

invisible string: this. THIS is probably her most stunning love song. like. i thought it was Lover. i was wrong. this one is confidently from Taylor’s perspective, about Joe and dear lord i want a love like theirs. and shit does this song put the folk in folklore, the music is so simple and gorgeous and harkens back to her country roots without losing this new sound she has. and the first few notes remind me of Mystery of Love by Sufjan Stevens so instantly im sold. this and betty are tied for my number 1, it’s just too beautiful

fave lines: “time curious time/give me no compasses/give me no signs” “isn’t it just so pretty to think/all along there was some invisible string/tying you to me”, “cold was steel of the axe that i had to grind/for the boys who broke my heart/now i buy their babies presents”, “hell was the journey/but it brought me heaven”

mad woman: FUCK YOU FOREVERRRRRR!!! yes taylor said fuckkkk ugh i LOVE this vibe, the revenge of the mad woman that the town cast out is so eerie and powerful, i’m obsessed. it ties back into the maddest woman of TLGAD and it feels like a spiritual sequel to The Man, the same feminist thread weaving through it. the lyrics are razor sharp and biting, i love it

fave lines: “and you poke that bear/till the claws come out/ and you find something/ to wrap your noose around”, “it’s obvious wanting me dead has really brought you two together”

epiphany: so uhhh THIS is the saddest song on folklore. fight me. the seamless comparison between wartime and the pandemic and waiting for some epiphany that could make sense of all the horrors surrounding the both. idk man, as someone who’s been a covid nurse since March, i just….this one HURTS. similar to Soon You’ll Get Better tbh

fave lines: “hold your hand through plastic now/doc i think she’s crashing out/and somethings you just can’t speak about”

betty: OH I LOVE IT WITH MY WHOLE HEART! this is such a TRIUMPHANT return to old taylor, it is so joyful but sad at the same time?? the harmonica?? the last part of the love triangle?? it sounds like Taylor Swift and Fearless all grown up and it makes me ache for back then, but love where we are right now. tbh the first time i heard this i sobbed through the whole thing just out of pure nostalgia. she’s back but at the same time she never left. this feels like a love song to original fans and it. is. incredible. my favoriteeee goddd

fave lines: THE WHOLE CHORUS BABYYYYY

peace: it’s gorgeous, especially the guitarrr ugh. this feels like delicate’s quiet older sister. i think it’s definitely about joe and how taylor, despite loving him, still has these insecurities and fears about what a relationship with someone in her position could be like? like there will be struggles, but he’s her family and she “would die for you in secret”. stunning

fave lines: “i’m a fire and i’ll keep your brittle heart warm”, “the devils in the detail/but you’ve got a friend in me”, “give you my wild/give you a child”

hoax: i’m surprised she ended it on a sad one (but we still have the lakes!!) but this song is hauntingly beautiful WOW. every line of this absolutely floors me. i think this one will also be largely underrated, but it is pure poetry and deserves so so much hype

fave lines: “stood on the cliffside/screaming give me a reason/your faithless love’s the only hoax i believe in”, “it still hurts underneath my scars/from when they pulled me apart/but what you did was just as dark” “my kingdom come undone/ my broken drum/ you have beaten my heart”

ANYWHO TAYLOR HAS PRODUCED HER BEST WORK TO DATE AND IM READY FOR SAD GIRL AUTUMN

#taylor swift #folklore #tswift #folklore the album #taylor swift folklore #ts8 folklore #folklore era #betty #august #cardigan #exile

[kingofdirtandnothing]

@polyfacetious big ass Christmas Drabble Extravagaza: Day Seven

Cloud has been working up to this for weeks now. 

He keeps having these run ins with the girl that runs the flower shop. (Aerith, there was no point in pretending he didn’t know her name. He did.) They would cross the street at the same time, or end up in line near each other at the bakery, or the donut shop. And once, memorably, even at the bar, though Cloud was only there to pick up a bottle for his boss’ meeting and Aerith had been chasing her puppy down the street. 

That was the longest conversation they had ever had, Aerith clutching a squirming puppy to her chest and Cloud trying to remember how to have a conversation like a normal person. At most, it lasted about five minutes. 

Which just went to prove that Cloud wasn’t meant for any sort of job that was tailored to orating. Though no one had told Professor Murdock that yet, which was how Cloud still had a job. (He didn’t know if he wanted it, but he was glad to still have it.)

But with even less than ten whole minutes of time spent speaking to each other, Cloud couldn’t get Aerith out of his head. She was beautiful, of course. Hauntingly so, if he was feeling dramatic while staring at the ceiling at three in the morning. But even in the heat of the day, when all the words inside of him shriveled up and rolled away like tumbleweeds made of syllables, she was still incredibly beautiful. 

It was more than that, though. Monte Carlo was full of beautiful women. Most of them wearing less clothing than Cloud’s mother would like. And sometimes topless on the beach. But Aerith was more than that. She was...vivacious. She had a laugh that echoed in the back of Cloud’s head for hours after he talked to her. 

She was kind, too. In every time that they talked, she never seemed to notice how awkward he was. And if she did notice, she just didn’t care. She still talked to him the same way he heard her talk to everyone else she encountered on the street. Not that he was stalking her or anything, he just spent a lot of time here on the Row. 

Professor Murdock had once lovingly called this place the ‘isle of misfit toys’ and it had stuck with Cloud ever since. On the most blatant surface level, the thing they all had in common was that they weren’t from around here. They were all strangers in a strange land. But to Cloud, it felt like there was something more to it than that. 

Every shop owner, every “regular” on the street would smile at him in passing, and ask him how his day was. Every single one of them would hold open a door for him, or for each other. There was a sense of family in this place that ran deeper than any place Cloud was ever stationed, and the military did its best to make a family out of you.

This family felt more natural, like something a shoot growing out of a seed left in rich soil. No one planted it, no one tended to it or watered it. But nature ran its course and there was new life growing there, just because. 

That’s what this place was. New life and new growth because nature intended it, and not anyone else. 

Which was why Cloud needed to do this for himself. Everything about this place, from the people to the paint jobs on ancient stones, to his actual job were about new growth. So he needed to take that step for himself, and finally man up and have a real, honest to God conversation with the pretty girl in the flower shop. 

He looks up at the striped red and white awning over the flower shop, watching the way the sun seemed to bounce off of the crisp lines there. It reminded him faintly of a painting his mother had hanging in her kitchen of a French bistro, little blobs of paint people passing under a similar awning as they went about their lives. 

But there were no little paint people with baguettes in the baskets of their bicycles here.

Just Cloud, standing out on the sidewalk like an idiot. “Come on. You can do this. She’s just a girl.” Just an incredibly pretty girl, who smelled like roses and smiled like sunshine and took up residence in Cloud’s head any time he wasn’t thinking too hard about anything. “All you have to do is take a deep breath and go inside.”

Cloud took a deep breath in, letting the cool air fill his nose and expand his lungs. He holds it there, just like the therapist taught him, for a count of four. And then he breathes it out slowly, letting his lungs empty fully. 

But his feet still weren’t moving.

“One more deep breath. Then I think you’ll have it.” If a person’s soul could leave their body from the sound of another’s voice alone, Cloud would be up by his namesake right about now. He hadn’t heard Aerith come up to stand beside him, her pale fingers laced together behind her back. When Cloud looks over at her, her smile is radiant. There’s nothing dismissive or sarcastic there. She’s really rooting for him. 

“Here! We’ll do it together. Ready?” Cloud didn’t have a chance to be anything but ready, because Aerith was already breathing in deeply, and audibly. Cloud’s lungs follow right along with her, a deep breath in. When Aerith exhales, it’s like a balloon deflating, a great big rush of breath. And through it all, she holds his eyes. 

Cloud is pretty sure you’re not supposed to feel a jolt of electricity every time that someone looked you in the eyes. But there was something about Aerith that got under his skin each and every time. 

“How about now? Feeling better?” Before he could even answer, Aerith takes hold of his hand and that jolt in Cloud’s chest explodes through his fingertips, up along his arm and through his chest to settle, inexplicably, in his teeth. Who felt electricity in their teeth?

That was a question for another time, because Aerith’s gentle touch was guiding him into the flower shop. The smell is what hits him first, faint and sweet but still riotous, in a natural sort of way. It felt like a cacophony of gentle scents, all elbowing and jostling each other to be first in line into his nose. 

Next was the colors. Sprung had sprung a while ago, but summer had pounced on the Midgar Florist shop. There were bouquets wrapped in butcher paper, all ready to be picked up and taken by anyone walking in. There were dusted with daisies and peppered with peonies, smelling like summer love and looking like what a laugh must. 

But those were simple, compared to the bouquets in vases on display behind the counter. There were sunflowers there the size of a tea saucer, along with red roses still curled tightly around themselves in a self hug, and tiger lilies, outstretched towards the promise of the sun. 

There were arrangements for births of babies and ones for congratulations. There was even a small, tasteful display in the corner with a card balanced in front of it that said sorry for your loss. 

Before today, Cloud would have never known how many things you could say with flowers. It felt like walking down the street in a new city, where you didn’t speak the language at all. 

“See? You did great.” It’s only then that Cloud realizes that Aerith still has a hold on his arm. Because she’s let go of his hand at this point to wrap her hand around his bicep and step in close. Even in the wash of flowers and scents spilling over him, Cloud would swear he could smell the kind of roses that always made him think of Aerith. “Is there something in particular you were looking for?”

Maybe they would have flowers the color of her eyes. Cloud doubted it, though. They were beautiful, the green of fresh summer grass. 

“Uh-” She always did this to him. Words never came easily to Cloud, but the mountain of his tongue and teeth seemed especially insurmountable when he was looking at Aerith. And it didn’t help that he wasn’t actually here for flowers. He just wanted to talk to her. 

Originally, the plan had been to come in and pretend like he was browsing, and then make conversation, But that plan was out the window now, and there was no plan B in sight. No exit strategy, either. 

“Something for my desk.” They were the first words to leave his mouth, and Cloud is relieved to find that they don’t have to be a lie. He could put some flowers on his desk. Professor Murdock wouldn’t care. “But it can’t be anything that smells too strongly. My boss is blind, and strong smells can give him headaches.”

Professor Murdock has never asked him not to wear cologne or not to keep flowers on his desk, but Cloud has seen the way he’s had to nap on his office couch after he dealt with freshmen and their need to bathe in body spray. 

“Hmm.” Aerith lets go of his arm to tap her finger against her lips. Cloud jerks his gaze away before he can spend too long staring at her mouth like some kind of creep. “Well, if you’re wanting something on your desk, then we need something potted. But not anything with a strong scent.”

Aerith drifts from display to display, her skirt brushing against her ankles and sounding like a whisper. After two full circuits of the store, with Cloud turning in a helpless, static circle to watch her, she makes a sound of victory, and actually fist pumps the air. “I’ve got it! One second.”

She ducks behind the counter and Cloud watches her go, his heart beating so hard in his chest that it’s hard for him to believe that she can’t hear it. But before he can think too hard about it, Aerith is back from the back room again, holding a small potted plant in both of her cupped palms. 

“Here you go!” The terra cotta pot was wrapped with a bright pink ribbon around its base. And in the pot was a cactus. It was squat and mostly round, with a small pink flower blooming on the top of its curve. 

Cloud has to lean in close (but not too close, he’s fallen into a cactus before) to catch a whiff of the flower on the top of the cactus. It’s faint, but sweet. It wasn’t familiar, and there was something pleasant about that. It was almost exotic. 

“So. What do you think?” There was something teasing and sing-song in Aerith’s words, and she was rocking back and forth on her toes, eagerly awaiting his answer. Cloud is pretty sure that even if he hated it, he would lie to her right now.

But luckily for him, he doesn’t hate it, so he doesn’t have to lie about it. The plant is perfect. Easy to care for, easy to look at, and it wouldn’t be overwhelming for Professor Murdock. It showed a lot of care on Aerith’s part, and Cloud’s already sky high opinion of her ratchets up a few notches further. 

“This is great, thank you. How much do I owe you?” Cloud shifts the pot to his left hand, holding it against his chest so that he can try and pull his wallet from the front pocket of his trousers. He didn’t actually plan on buying anything today, but how much could a cactus really cost?

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Aerith’s laughter was like the crystal on a chandelier. Bright and tinkling. “This one’s on the house.”

#ch: cloud #polyfacetious | aerith #v: expats row #queued #carlota's christmas drabbles #so I didn't knowingly make this number seven #but it pleases me greatly that it is

[strawberrysolitude]

Jackson Wang – 100 Ways

Okay. So. Unlike other talented content creators, the only thing I’m somewhat good at is putting my feelings into words. So that’s what you’re getting!

I love Jackson’s new solo, and I wanna talk about the different aspects, namely the music, the lyrics, and the visuals in the MV. So let’s go!

1. the music

I. Love. The baseline. The running guitar line in “Bullet to the Heart” was already super ragged and rhythmical, but here, it’s a lot smoother while running under the melody like a little stream of water. No big ups and downs, just little tiny waves, but still enough to convey constant movements and to make you wanna dance along.

The melody in the verses is really beautiful, a little melancholic, and fits right into Jackson’s higher range. He sounds emotional without putting too much strain onto his voice. The melody in the chorus??? That right there is pure Jackson! Smack-dab in the middle of his voice range, which makes it possible for him to put a lot more power behind his singing. The chorus sounds a lot more like a song to dance to, and I love how that contradicts the actual theme of the lyrics (but more on that later).

The gonging bass that sets in during the chorus helps to hit home the underlying heaviness of it all. It tapers out during the “I’m the only one that you need line” and underlines how there’s still a bit of lightness in that part.

The flute? I love it? It has such a haunting and tragic melody and fits with the sort of medieval theme of the video perfectly.

The beat keeps pounding more steadily during the second chorus, but even though it might be fitting for it to be more like a war drum, it’s still subdued - war is over for a dead soldier, after all, the steady call of the marching drum nothing but an echo in the afterlife.

Right before the “dance break”, the accompaniement tapers off and even comes to a complete halt as the soldiers in the video fall backwards and disappear. They and the music both give Jackson and his lover time alone, so to speak.

The last part leaves us with a gonging, intense bass, pounding drums, a hauntingly beautiful flute melody and Jackson crooning his highest parts of the chorus melody before stating, almost in his speaking voice and very matter-of-factly, “I’m the only one that you need.” What an impression to go out on!

2. the lyrics

There were two parts of the lyrics in the verses that really stuck out to me: the hourglass and the curtain call.

An hourglass is not only associated with time passing, but with mortality itself. The grim reaper is often portrayed holding an hourglass, every grain of sand a day of a person’ lifespan, and once all of them have rained down, he comes to collect their soul. The image projected here is that there is an expiration date to the relationship Jackson’s talking about. Yet at the same time, to start any relationship, the hourglass has to be turned, which is why it’s the first line of the song. Nothing lasts forever, but it might be that this relationship is coming to and end “too fast” for the other partner.

A curtain call, as well, indicates the end of something. Interesting to me is how Jackson says in this verse that he doesn’t care about the opinion of others, yet relates his relationship to a play in a theater, indicating that it’s a performance put on to impress others. Haven’t we all had the feeling of performing a relationship, trying our best to express love in patterns that we’ve learned and to please somebody by putting on a show?

Despite these sort of negative images, the song still manages to put a somewhat positive spin on the fears of a relationship ending too soon and maybe even being just for show.

Don’t waste your love, just let it last 'Cause once it's gone it's never coming back

But if you’re ready I will give my all

These lines convey that it’s okay to love with all you’ve got. Even if it might not be forever, the time you had together still counts. Love is not something finite, a relationship is not a transaction where you can get your love back if you still have a warranty. It might hurt in the end, but you’re guaranteed to have a good time if you give it your all now.

As for the chorus, this is actually a bit puzzling to me. Is it cynical? Hopeful? Boasting? Melancholic?

Could you love me the same? Tell me what makes you stay? There’s a hundred ways to leave a lover I won’t wait a minute longer Hundred ways to leave But I’m the only one that you need 

Could you love me the same ... after what happened? After the lover has left? After they have been hurt? After the relationship is over? What makes you stay ... even though what? It might be that their relationship is strained and that they’re not sure about each other’s feelings and whether they’re loving each other right.

“There’s a hundred ways to leave a lover” – now there’s an iconic line for you! In my opinion, it sounds a little bit sassy and sarcastic, its lightheartedness contradicting the heavy decision of ending a relationship. The melody on this line, however, sounds tragic and serious, which makes me rethink again.

I won’t wait a minute longer ... to do what? Or is he waiting for his partner to do something, to act, to decide? I think the latter fits a bit more, seeing as he confidently states “I’m the only one that you need”.

Bottom line: What I read out of these lyrics is this: “I’m the only one that you need, so why do you keep making me wait? Why are you treating me like there’s an expiration date on our relationship? If you commit fully, I’m ready to give you my all. If you really wanted to leave, there’s lots of ways for you to end this, but you haven’t yet. You obviously want to stay, so why don’t you say yes to this relationship?”

3. the visuals

In this part, I might focus a little more on the story told in the MV, which in my opinion is a bit removed from the lyrics. Although dying on your lover is definitely one way to leave them ... ahem.

In the beginning, the gravestones are arranged in a circle, and there’s concentric lines drawn in the ground as well. You know about the circle of life? This circle is closed, so this life has come full circle, has come to its end. However, a circle can also be interpreted as the wheel of lives turning and bringing reincarnation.

The soldiers are wearing black and red. In this combination, these colors seem sort of dark and almost demonic, which helps underline the fact that these people are basically necromancers right now.

The ever-present fog throughout the whole video serves multiple purposes. Firstly, it helps establish a sort of battlefield atmosphere: right before dawn, where you can’t see much and the enemy could be attacking any time. Secondly, it makes things seem unreal and ethereal, like all of this is already taking place in the afterlife. Lastly, it helps make Jackson look like a ghost. There’s a tiny moment around 0:55 where it even looks like he’s breathing out fog!

Jackson rises from the grave wearing his underclothes, not his armor, which are disshevelled and dirty. There’s dirt on his face also. This could be because he was literally under the ground, but we later see his lover rise from the grave looking pristine. My take on this is that, as a soldier, Jackson was buried in haste after a battle, and his comrades didn’t have time to wash his body or do any of the rites to prepare him for the burying.

However, now that they’re resurrecting him, they are putting on his armor for him, gearing him up, making him look like himself again, less vulnerable and quite literally ready for battle. What’s he fighting for? True love, of course!

In the next scene, they’re walking together through a dark forest, trees without leaves, towards a light. I don’t think there’s much to be interpreted her: The afterlife is bleak, but you walk towards a warm light in the hopes that it comforts you. An interesting bit is when one of the dancers knocks one of the tress over and it falls down. That could have been a coincidence, but the leaves rustling as the tree hits the ground are literally part of the audio! Any thoughts on that?

The single tree with a gravestone beneath it looks very different from the graveyard where Jackson was resurrected. There’s a beautiful, warm light, and red leaves falling all over like flower petals. They’re only like flower petals, though, the falling leaves clearly indicating autumn, the end of the year, days getting shorter and darker, cold and unmoving winter on its way, life sucked away.

The group dances together one last time – I think soldier Jackson has some of the best friends in the world. They resurrected him from his grave, dressed him back up in his armor and gave him a little cheering dance before he saw his lover again. And then they fall back into the mist and disappear! The way they hold their bodies really stiff and unnatural makes me think of death again. Where they ghosts, too, all along?

Then, Jackson’s lover appears. She is dressed in beautiful clothes, even wearing jewelery, her face is clean and her hair is done. Clearly she’s from a wealthy background, not like foot soldier Jackson who’s been buried in a haste. Her family or a priest has done all the rites for her burying. Curiously, she is buried wearing lots of red, a color traditionally used for weddings (and which has popped up in the video a lot, as well). Under the red, a little white is shining through, showing us that she’s dead. Maybe she hasn’t moved on from her wish to marry yet? The red cloak is stripped away, revealing more of the white. Is she ready to move on now that she’s met her lover again?

The lovers share a dance, a clear reminiscence of a wedding dance. She ends up in Jackson’s arms, holding on tight while he decides it’s time for them to return to the afterlife, together. They sink back into the grave, closely holding onto each other, and the last thing we see is Jackson’s face, singing “I’m the only one that you need” while being swallowed by the mist.

Gosh dang it, I’ve got goosebumps all over! And not because of the scary ghosts. Your love may end, just like any life will end, but it was there, and its remnants will stay relevant for you even in the afterlife. Beautiful.

#jackson wang #100 ways #team wang #long text #i really put a lot of effort into this #so it would mean a lot to me if you let me know you read my ramblings ♥ #all the love for jacks #rambling #i'm a literature grad can you tell

[hozierfic]

Submission by @ineffable-nalu​

Hey this is my first Hozier fic, and my first time ever posting a submission of my wiritng on Tumblr, I’m kind of scared but YOLO right ? I don’t know how this works if that wasn’t obvious. Well hope someone enjoys it. I think it will be a couple of chapters if someone likes it!

Thanks!

Calliope’s POV

The sound of Marimba fills the room waking me up in a bed that isn’t my own which sucks, even if it’s a fancy hotel room bed, there’s just something peaceful about waking up home knowing that it’s your space your time no rush even when you are rushing. Is any of this even making sense ?

I sigh as I look over at the clock, it’s 5 minutes passed 8 and I really should get up and start getting ready. Rolling out of bed and stretching out my joints I make my way into the bathroom for a shower, I really need the wake up call.

Nearly 30 minutes later and I’m done getting ready, my curly brown hair is as tamed as it can be and I decided on being as casual as acceptable when your sister is a super model, considering I’m meeting her for brunch I can’t show up in sweats, so I opted for skinny black jeans, a black turtle neck and my favorite high heel boot. I put on my liner and a red lip and grabbing my coat before stepping out, it’s still early and I’m not meeting Harmonia until later, but there are a few things I’d like to do.

I’m only in New York for 1 more day and I can’t miss the oprotunity to go to check out the Stephen A. Schwarzman library. You see I’m a published author, well a barely published author I wrote a fantasy novel that is supposed to be a trilogy, it was published 5 months ago and I was surprised by the fact that people really liked it, so here I am on my book tour. Thinking about my reading tonight I entered the elevator and pushed the button for lobby when I heard someone shout

“Hold the lift please” My hand jupms out at the closing doors and a tall man rushes in as they close “Thanks for that, you’re going down too? Great” he says in a charming Irish accent as he pushes the lobby button again and leans back on the wall with and took the guitar case strapped off of his shoulder

I took this as my chance to check him out. I was wrong he’s not tall, he’s very tall, I would say over 2 meters probably, his hair is long and hectic, curly and frizzy but god does it work for him. I was startled out my daze when the elevator jumped slightly, the lights flickering making me almost fall over if not for my reflexes and the rail I would’ve fallen, it made another clunking noise before finally stopping in place

“What the hell ?” I asked looking up at the counter that shows you what floor you’re on only to see it’s stuck between the fourth and fifth floor. Perfect.

“I do belive it’s stuck” The handsome stranger says and I look at him over my shoulder with an arched brow as if to say ‘Really I hadn’t noticed’

Sighing back into the wall I answered

“Yeah, it seems so. I just can’t belive that these things actually happen. I mean for 23 years I have never been stuck in an elevator and then this one, in a 5 star hotel may I add decides to brake down. Doesn’t this sort of thing usually happen in movies ?” I ramble on and look up to him as he just startes at me with an amused look on his face

“ Yes I think it does usually happen in movies, but in real life as well. I’ve been stuck in a lift before don’t worry they’ll get us out soon. You’re not claustrophobic are you ?”

I snort-laughed at his question

“No, and thank god, that would be unpleasant. For the both of us”

he nodded and extented his hand towards me “The name’s Andrew” cute name, it suits him I though as I shook his and smiled at him “Calliope”

“The Greek muse of epic poetry ? In the flesh ?” he gasped putting his hand on his heart “Forgive me my lady for I hadn’t a clue as to who’s presence I was in” he said dramatically making me scoff playfully, can you a blame a girl for flirting a little ? He’s gorgeous.

“If only you were half as funy as you think you are, you could be a comedian. My parents are historians and Greek mythology fanatics I would say, my sister’s name is Harmonia” he chuckled at that

“How do you know I’m not ? A comedian I mean. and I like your name, it suits you. I can see you isnpiring Homer to write the Illiad”

I chucked at that “Because you’re not funny, and that’s kind of esential to being a comedian. And If only I could inspire my self to write” I said the last part somewhat softly but he heard any way

“Oh, you’re a writer then ?” I turned my head to look at him, then realized he is a good head and a half taller so I craned my neck and shurgged “I suppose I am, barley”

He laughed at that and sat on the floor “What does 'Being barley a writer’ even mean ? You either are or you aren’t”

Following his example I plopped on the floor as well and sighed “ I am a writer, just been going through a funk and can’t seem to write a god damn word, you know ? Sometimes I think the first one was just a lucky break and I’m not actually a good writer” I stopped myself before I could continue, what was wrong with ne ? Just spilling my guts out to this beautiful relative stranger.

Andrew nods his head as he looks at me before leaning back and looking at the roof of the box we were currently trapped in “ I actually know well what that’s like”

“Are you a writer as well ?” I asked

“No, musician” his head tilts to the guitar next to him and I almost facepalm, what am I an idiot of course he’s a musician

“Oh yeah obviously, sorry I haven’t really had coffe yet so I’m a bit slow. Are you in a band ?” I ask him and he nods

“Don’t worry about it I feel the same, can barely keep my eyes open. And yes I am in a band” he says with a smile

“That’s cool, you do look familliar. Wait don’t tell me” I hold my hand up and I can see he’s trying to hold back a laugh, but he listens and sits back as I inspect him, top to bottom

“Ok, you’re Irish, you play the guitar but you also write the songs and you’re in a band.”

I mumble to myself as I look into his beautiful hazel eyes he smiled at me seeming quite entertained, brushing off his looks I keep thinking.

I know I’ve seen him but where ? “Andrew ? Andrew ? Where do-” and the it hit me and I jumped to my feet

“Oh, Oh I got it!”

I said loudly and this time he does laugh as he looks at me take my seat again “Already ? I was kind of enjoying the attention and proximity” I shoved his shoulder playfully

“Andrew Hozier-Byrne, How did I not see it ? I mean I love your music” I say laughing at myself for not seeing it.

“Ding ding, we have a winner.” He laughs

“To be perfectly honest I never looked at who was singing too engrossed in the lyrics and melodies . But your music is hauntingly beautiful you know ?”

I tell him and his face shifts from amusement to flattery and a bit of embarrassment

“Uhm, thanks always nice to know people like the music I create” he says scuffing his hair as he talks.

“And don’t even worry about not recognizing me, I prefer being as anonymous as possible”

I smile at him placing my head on the wall

“I can imagine how hectic life can be for a world renown musician” I say gently and he nods in agreement

“You are a writer though. Your music is poetry. If you were born in the 16th century you would’ve given Marlowe and Shakespeare a run fir their money”

He laughs at my statement rolling his head over to look at me

“That is high praise I am humbled, you said you have a book published?”

“Yeah, I’ve had the idea for it for so long and I finished the first book about a year ago, it was published about 6 months ago”

“What’s it called maybe I’ve read it ?”

I really laugh at that shaking my head “Oh no, no you haven’t trust me”

His brows furrow a bit at my words

“Why so self deprecating? I’m sure I’ve heard or read about it if not actually read. Come on” he urged making me want to sigh.

“Keepers of the rift” I say after a moment of silence.

“No way” he says quietly making me look at him “What ?”

Andrew beams at me akin to a child on Christmas morning “I absolutely loved your book, are you kidding me ? You’re Cal Andjelkovic? ”

he bewildered completely butchering my last name making me laugh

“It’s Andjelkovic actually but yes, I shortened the name. And you actually read my book ?”

I asked seemingly suspicious but in all honesty just sort of stunned. I still can’t believe that anyone’s read my book let alone well known artist

“Yes, yes I stumbled across it in a book shop while we were touring The UK and since you spend 90% if your free time on a bus while touring I love to fill the time by reading.

And when I started yours I couldn’t put it down until I finished it”

He said sincerely and it warmed every part of me.

I’ve met loads of people during my signing and reading sessions but this almost intimate setting with us on the floor, shoulders pressed against one another having him tell me he enjoyed my writing made it special

I nudged his shoulder slightly making him look at me with a raised brow I  smiled up at him

“That is high praise, especially from you. I am humbled” I repeat his words to him and he smirks slightly at me

“Cheek” he mumbles making me laugh

—————————

“So you’re struggling with the second one then ?” His voice resonates around me, he’s looking up at me from a journal of some sorts. We have been sitting in silence for, who knows how long.

I look at my watch seeing it’s 11:30 and we are still in this goddamn elevator. I’m going to be late for brunch, and as if icing in the cake there was no service in here.

“Yes you could say that. For almost 8 years I had this story in my mind, and every day it was slowly building itself. It took me some time to actually physically write a sentence of it.

I have an outline of all three volumes. Always saw it as a trilogy of sorts.

And even though I know what I want from the second one- Writing it is still a completely different story”

I say looking at him and seeing sympathy on his face

“I have been there, sometimes the music pours out, the lyrics come to me in dreams and during showers or cooking.

And then other times I’m close to banging my head against a wall just to think of a single note”

I hummed at him in understanding

“Soon you said, eh ?” I laughed after about a minute of silence making him chuckle in return

“Apparently things work differently in America, if we were in Ireland we’d already’ve been out of here and into the nearest pub for a celebratory drink” he says

“Drink? It’s not even noon yet ?”

I said laughing at his comeback

“It’s happy hour somewhere right?”

——————————

“Ok so I write something for you, you sing something for me ?” I ask and he nods his head in confirmation. It was a little after 1pm

“Deal, now would you like me to insert you into the world I created or just make up something new?” I asked

“Oooo, into the story you’ve already created I love the way you used certain folklore, myths and legends”

he replies with a childlike grin on his face making me chuckle at how cute he was

I took my own journal out of my bag and started writing, trying to find the best story to tell.

I found that writing came when writing about him, words flowed onto the page as my mind was overtaken by him.

His presence was calming, I enjoyed his conversation, he is charming and beautiful. And his music haunts me, it inspires me.

I skim over the the few pages I wrote and glanced up at him, only to find him staring at me with a intense look on his face

I cleared my throat and handed him the journal

“I- um I finished it, and to be clear this is a non proof read rough draft. So don’t expect some novelty” he takes it from my hands and starts reading intently.

Following the words with his eyes and tracing them with his fingers, I smiled looking at him

“A Fae ?” His voice brought me back and looking him in the eyes, amusement laced his voice as he looked at me with a raised brow

I shrugged my shoulders

“It was either that or a deity of the forest. But I believe Fae suits you. Hauntingly beautiful” I say

Smiling at my answer he gives me my journal back,

“It was a wonderful story, I quite enjoyed reading about me as one of the Fae”

He says

“I could put you in the second book ?” I tease

“I would be honored” he says, reaching for his guitar

“I’ll quote you on that. Oh, am I about to have the most privet Hozier concert ever ?” I joked

Making Andrew snort slightly and take his guitar out of the case slinging  it on his shoulder

“Hozier is me and my band, you are going to get an exclusive one man Andrew show. Which if you ask me is bit as good”

I slap his shoulder “Shut it, and play me something”

I smile and watch him tune his guitar for a couple of minutes before he clears his throat and looks at me

“May I sing to you a work in progress? Since you gave me an original I figured ?” I nod enthusiastically

He starts strumming the guitar gently for a while, as if trying to find the right sound and then-

“I still watch you when you’re grooving, as if through water from the bottom a pool.

You’re moving without moving.

And when you move I’m moved.

You are a call to motion, there all of you a verb in perfect view, Like Jonah on the ocean.

When you move I’m moved.

When you move I’m put to mind of all that I want to be , when you move I could never define all that you are to me”

The strumming stops and his heavenly voice fades leaving me staring at him, most likely with my mouth agape

“That was incredible, I’m awestruck to be completely honest. My god. You Sir are a poet. That was beautiful. Is there more?”

I ask and he shakes his head

“It came to me just now. While being stuck in this hellhole” he says laughing slightly but I’m just mesmerized by the lyrics he just sang

“I still watch you when you’re grooving,” I mumble to myself  reciting the lyrics “as if through water from the bottom of a pool”

I look at him

“And you’re moving without moving” I keep going

“When you move, I’m moved” he finishes for me making me smile at him

“So move me baby” I wink at him and he just stares at me for a moment

“Shake like the bough of a willow tree” and he smiles at me before scribbling down things in his journal.

I went back to scribbling notes on certain ideas I had for some of my characters, plot points needed to be addressed and such, not ten minutes passed and we heard a clunking noise and the elevator started moving.

Descending down to the lobby after 5 hours. Andrew and I get up right as the doors open

“Oh thank god man, we’ve been freaking the fuck out. I mean you’re never late to anything and then you don’t show up at rehearsals and not answering your phone, we drive together next time”

A man almost as tall as Andrew hugs him making me laugh at his ramble.

Stepping out of the elevator I looked around the lobby spotting Harmonia sitting at the bar,

I look over at Andrew and to see him talking to his band mates making me smile and move towards my sister.

Hopefully she won’t be too pissed. But them again it wasn’t really my fault.

#submission #hozier fanfic #hozier/female oc #ineffable-nalu