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teaplease1717 · 3 years

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Story: Ashes of Love and War

Chapter: 15 / ?

Couple: Todoroki Shouto / Yaoyorozu Momo (TodoMomo)

Rating: M (for language and violence)

Betas: @flourchildwrites (Link) & C’s Melody (Link)

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21638800/chapters/74623470

Thank you everyone who follows and supports!

XXXXXX

50 days post the fall of Troy (Morning after the attack)

The next day, fog covered the mountaintop in a heavy gray that seemed to match the mood within the orphanage. Silent and bloodless, the humid mist rolled off the sea and breached the orphanage's walls like a harbinger of the danger surrounding them all.

The men that had escaped the stympahlian’s attack unharmed trudged silently around the quarters, fixing what they could or preparing for that night’s battle. No one had slept.

There was an anxious tension in the air. Momo had caught a few of Fukukado’s men siphoning alcohol from the orphanage’s last wine barrel but hadn’t stopped them. All anyone could do was try to keep their mind off of the upcoming battle.

Momo grabbed a jar of honey and fresh bandages from their dwindling supplies and then hurried back into the makeshift infirmary. She was the only one on duty at the moment. Aizawa and Asui were busy bringing the unhurt children and the few injured pirates that could still walk down to the ship.

She went over to the nearest man’s pallet and sat down next to him. The pirate was feverish and shaking. A stymphalian had sliced through his arm, down to the bone. Long gashes along his back were already starting to fester. She helped him sip from a flask of wine, laid the man back down, and began redressing his bandages.

Her shoulder throbbed at the movement, but Momo ignored the pain. The work and sting were a welcome distraction. If she stopped, if she paused, she’d think about Tokoyami. And then she’d just be upset.

He had come by her room that morning before departing for his patrol. Momo had known the sound of his footsteps as he stopped in front of her door, but he hadn’t knocked and, after a few moments, had left without saying anything even though he had said he wanted to speak to her.

Not that Momo wanted to talk. She didn’t even know what they’d say to one another. Yesterday, she had been so incredibly furious. But now, whenever she thought of Tokoyami, she just felt hollow.

Tokoyami was her oldest friend. He had been her confidant, had protected and guided her throughout the war and politics of Apollo’s temple. But Momo had taken his companionship for granted.

And now it felt too late.

The harder she fought to hold onto their friendship, the more it broke. All that was left were chipped pieces of glass that cut her every time she touched them.

The most painful part was that Momo was coming to the realization that no matter how the night played out, their friendship would never go back to how it was.

She finished dressing the patient’s wounds. Then she left the makeshift hospital wing and paused, sniffing the air.

There was a strange smell laced in the wind. It was hard to tell over the dark magic-infused fog, but it almost smelled like smoke.

Momo walked back to the kitchen and paused. Todoroki was standing there, looking out the window. He didn’t appear to have seen her, and Momo debated if she should leave him alone.

He was another factor in her life that was difficult to think about. But at least he talked to her.

Momo stepped into the room. “Todoroki.”

He didn’t respond, and she moved closer. She looked up, following his gaze. In the distance, through the fog, there was a faint red-orangish tinge. It looked like a fire flickered on the far south side of the island.

Momo’s eyebrows drew together. It was an unusually hot summer. There had been two small fires that month already, but this felt different. It felt bigger.

A shiver ran down her spine.

If it was a fire, who’d lit it? Had Tokoyami done it? No. He should still be on the other side of the island and wouldn’t have been able to see the flames from where he was.

She turned towards Todoroki and found him still staring at the red tinge in the distance, his eyes unfocused. His index finger absently tapped against the hilt of his sword, but otherwise, he hadn’t moved since she had arrived.

Momo frowned. She reached out to lightly touch his arm.

Todoroki flinched and looked up sharply. His expression immediately relaxed. “Yaoyorozu.”

Momo searched his face. His reaction was odd, but she brushed it off. There were more important things to think about. “What do you think? This fog isn’t normal. Could the magic in the air have created it?”

Todoroki glanced back out the window. “Maybe,” he said after a moment. “I don’t know. We’ll have to check it out once Aizawa gets back.”

Momo’s lips thinned. If they could see the flames’ flickers from the orphanage, it was a lot bigger than a simple brush fire.

“Do you think it’s…�� She couldn’t finish the thought.

Todoroki’s jaw tightened. “With how strange the stymphalian were acting yesterday, we can’t discard the possibility that they’re behind this.”

Momo’s stomach sank, but before she could respond, footsteps sounded from the hallway. Momo turned around as Aizawa appeared in the kitchen doorway, his expression hard.

He looked at Todoroki. “Good. You’ve already seen the fire. I need you to go check out if it’s anything we need to be concerned about.”

Todoroki nodded and moved towards the door.

Momo stepped forward. “Wait.”

Aizawa and Todoroki paused and looked back at her. Momo swallowed and brought a hand up to clench in front of her chest. “Should I go find Tokoyami?”

Aizawa looked at her, considering.

“No,” he said finally, his tone calm, but brokering no room for argument. Momo cringed internally. “We’ll wait for now, at least until Todoroki has confirmed how bad the fire is. We don’t want to stretch ourselves too thinly.”

Momo felt sick as she watched Todoroki disappear into the fog from the kitchen’s window. First the attack last night, then the fire this morning. There were too many coincidences that made her uncomfortable.

She wrapped her arms around herself. At least Aizawa seemed to be as wary as she felt. It wasn’t that he was brushing off her concerns; he was just trying to keep everyone calm. They needed to stay unified if they were going to win.

She drew in a shaky breath. Aizawa was a seasoned warrior, and she trusted his judgment. She shouldn’t be feeling so unsure. The fire may be nothing.

Behind her, there was the sound of the door opening. Momo looked over her shoulder.

Asui walked in carrying soiled bandages for cleaning. She dropped the bandages onto the floor, next to the wash bin, and brushed her hands off, giving Momo a small smile.

“Aizawa is getting ready to move Eri as well as some of the injured from the infirmary down to the boat...” She paused, giving Momo a long look. “Are you okay? You look tired. Have you rested yet, kero?”

Momo reached up and rubbed her injured shoulder. “No, I can’t sleep. There’s too much to do.”

Asui nodded and moved closer to look out the window. Her expression was unreadable. “Don’t worry about Todoroki and Tokoyami,” she said after a moment. “They’ll be okay, kero.”

Momo forced a small smile. “I know. But I can’t help but worry.”

Asui nodded. “I know. That’s because they’re important to you.”

Momo opened her mouth. The rehearsed lines denying that Todoroki was someone important to her were on the tip of her tongue, but she suddenly realized she didn’t know if they were true anymore.

Her feelings towards Todoroki were... complicated.

At first, it was only a sense of obligation and responsibility to repay her debt that kept her bound to him, but now she didn’t know.

Momo had realized that she couldn’t hate him. No matter what Tokoyami said, Todoroki had never done anything to earn Momo’s distrust. She may not understand what he was after. His actions and words may confuse her, but she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. And then, last night, when she had held Todoroki’s hand between her own as she treated him, it had felt like she had finally seen the real him.

And he was sad. And lonely.

She got the sense that Todoroki was afraid of letting people get too close. Momo didn’t even know if he had any friends. Perhaps Prince Bakugou but his relationship with the monarch had seemed more like mutual respect than a close friendship. And he had never mentioned if there was a lover waiting for him back home in Sparta either. The only relation he had spoken of was his sister, but it had been over ten years since he had seen her.

In a cruel sense, Todoroki seemed to be as alone as she felt. The thought made her chest tighten.

“It’s not really my place to say anything,” Asui began, snapping Momo out of her thoughts. She started and stared at the nereid. “But I don’t think Tokoyami meant to hurt you yesterday. He meant well, even if he should have gone about it differently. He’s worried about you. He doesn’t want to lose you.”

Momo pressed her lips into a thin line. Her fingers fidgeted with her chiton. “I know,” she said stiffly. “I just–” Her voice cracked.

Her chest ached. Momo didn’t know if she could tell the nereid about her and Tokoyami’s strained friendship. It was obvious she knew.

Everyone knew.

She just hadn’t spoken about it with anyone.

They had been on Aretias for over a month, but she wasn’t close with the nereid. They roomed together and were on friendly terms, but she still felt like there was a rift between them. Momo rarely ever spent time with Asui alone. The nereid was always with Tokoyami. She’d probably even report everything Momo said back to him, but-

Momo was so tired of holding it all in. Tired of shouldering everything by herself. She wanted someone to understand. Someone to talk to.

She drew in a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. “Everything...it just feels like it’s all changing between us. Ever since we came here, everything has fallen apart between Tokoyami and me.”

Asui didn’t say anything.

Momo swallowed thickly. “He’s always angry at me these days. I know it's not all his fault. I’m to blame too. I haven’t listened to him, but...but it feels like, even if I try to be better, even if I stay here, we’ll never go back to how it was in Troy. Nothing will ever be the same again.”

Her lips trembled. Momo hadn’t realized how painful it would be to say the words out loud.

She reached up and brushed her bangs behind her ear, blinking to stop herself from crying. She was so sick of crying.

Asui was silent for a moment.

“Perhaps so,” she said slowly. Her large dark eyes seemed almost sympathetic. She reached out and took Momo’s hand. “Tokoyami doesn’t mean to be harsh. He’s having a hard time moving on from the war. He needs time. But maybe that’s how it has to be?”

Momo didn’t say anything. Asui dropped her head to stare at their hands.

“War is horrible. You know that better than I ever will. There is no such thing as a war without casualties, even for those not physically injured. It touches everything and takes and takes and takes, forcing you to mold yourself into a person you may not have chosen to be. The only way to survive — to stay sane — is to form bonds and adapt. So for ten years, you and Tokoyami had to rely on each other to survive. But, now that the war is over, maybe you’re just finding out who you were always meant to be, kero?”

Momo bit her lip. Her chest hurt. She shrugged half-heartedly and sniffed.

“Maybe,” she repeated. Her throat felt tight. “It’s not like I didn’t know there would be changes once we left Troy. I thought I had prepared myself for it, but I-I just didn’t expect us to fight this much. Even after tonight…I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore.” Her voice quivered slightly.

Asui stared at her. “What do you want to do?”

Momo smiled bitterly. “Tokoyami thinks that I should stay here.”

Asui shook her head. “If your decision is to go with Todoroki or Fukukado, Tokoyami will be okay with it. And if he isn’t, he’ll need to be. It’s not his decision. He just doesn’t want you to make a decision based on a feeling of obligation or sense of duty. He wants you to be happy.” She squeezed Momo’s hand.

Momo looked down at their hands, and her lips thinned. She had always thought she’d stay with Tokoyami, here, but after everything that had happened...

“What do you want? Do you want to go with Todoroki?”

Momo didn’t know.

She left Asui to go prepare Eri for the journey down the mountain.

Momo picked up the surgery basket from the infirmary and headed towards the courtyard.

The men she’d caught stealing wine earlier in the day were sleeping, slumped against the wall. Drool hung from the sides of some of their drunken mouths. Their breath reeked of stolen spirits. Momo wrinkled her nose but left them alone as she hurried along, up the stairs and to the children’s room.

Eri was still feverish. Momo changed the cloth on her forehead and swaddled her in her blanket. She looked so tiny that Momo wanted to hug her. Instead she sat down on the edge of the bed beside her.

If she left the orphanage, she’d miss the children. And Aizawa and Tokoyami and Asui, probably.

Her chest tightened, and she reached over to brush back Eri’s white hair.

She didn’t know what she wanted anymore.

Aizawa had become her mentor of sorts, and she loved the children dearly. She had never been close to Asui, but maybe she could be if she stayed? Momo liked the thought of that.

She smiled faintly, then let it fall.

If she stayed here, would she be happy? Could she be happy?

Momo had always assumed that someone else would decide what would happen after the stymphalian were defeated. She had never even considered what she might want.

She liked being with Aizawa, Asui, and the children. She was comfortable here. But there was nothing on the island. Her life would be confined to working with Aizawa, making potions, and domestic chores. She’d have Tokoyami...if he ever forgave her, but there were no other people for her to connect with beside the occasional visits from the pirates.

This would be it.

Was that what she wanted?

Momo got up. She walked over to the window and looked out towards the fire in the distance, then paused. Her stomach twisted viciously. The fog had grown so thick and dark that she couldn’t even see over the ridge anymore.

It was like night had fallen.

A guttural scream abruptly cracked through the air. She turned and grabbed the first sharp object she could find — a surgery knife. Then she rushed out the door.

The courtyard was in chaos.

Stymphalian were climbing the walls and mounting the roof. The pirates were fighting as best they could, but they were outnumbered.

Dread filled Momo’s heart as she watched a man attempt to attack one of the creatures, but his movements were slow and sluggish.

Like he was drugged.

Momo’s eyes widened, and she looked around quickly. Her eyes landed on the men she had passed on her way up the stairs. They were still slumped over in the same position she had seen them earlier. Her heart pounded against her rib cage, and it felt like the floor had dropped from under her as a realization struck her.

The wine.

It had been poisoned.

Guilt slammed into her like a tornado.

Momo stumbled back. She should have known. How could she have forgotten? The missing jar from Aizawa’s storage room was belladonna, a highly toxic and untraceable poison. Aizawa had taught her how to extract the poison from the purple berries himself. How could she have forgotten? And she had given some to the men in the infirmary too.

Momo bit down on her lip until she tasted blood. Her fingers shook around the knife clutched in her hand. This was all her fault. If only she had remembered. If only she had-

“Yaoyorozu!”

Asui’s sudden scream broke Momo out of her despair. She jerked back sharply just as a feather grazed her cheek.

She hissed between her teeth at the sharp sting. It was a shallow cut; she had been lucky. But she didn’t have time to brush the blood off her face as a shadow appeared above her.

Momo spun out of the way as a stymphalian landed, shaking the wooden veranda. She drew in a deep breath, trying to calm her pounding heart, as she straightened and held up her knife.

It was hardly a useful weapon, but it was all she had. The spear that Aizawa had lent her was still in her room behind the creature.

She needed to think of some way to get around it. A winning strategy.

It was just one creature.

The monster lunged. Momo braced herself for the impact, but before the stymphalian’s claws were within reach, there was a sharp crack as a green blur slammed into the creature.

Asui stumbled forward as she landed before catching herself. A feather had sliced across her leg, and she was panting heavily.

Momo ran towards her. “Asui!”

“I’m fine, kero.” Blood was running down her leg.

Momo reached down to tear her chiton to act as a bandage, but Asui stopped her. The nereid raised her head. Her eyes hardened as they met Momo's. “I’ll cover for you. Go! Go get Todoroki. We need him.”

Momo’s stomach felt like it had a weight in it, and she nodded jerkingly. She stepped back and then turned, bolting down the stairs and through the house out the front door. She felt lightheaded. Her heart was beating so fast she thought she might be sick as she pushed herself forward.

There was a loud, pained shriek behind her, but she didn’t stop to see if it was a stymphalian or someone she knew.

When she was out of the orphanage, she paused momentarily to stuff the knife into her chiton. She wouldn’t be any help if she fell and impaled herself.

She took a deep breath, staggered forward, and then she was running, over the cliff and down towards the south side of the island.

It was a trap.

Everything had been a trap. The attack last night, the wine, the fire...it had all been planned.

Momo wanted to scream as she bolted down the path but forced her anger back down. She needed to find Todoroki and then Tokoyami. She had to get them back to the orphanage.

The smell of smoke grew stronger as she raced down the path. Momo thought there was also a faintly sweet smell that swirled through the air too but didn’t have time to think about it.

The heat suddenly hit her. Hot and suffocating. Momo coughed and tried to look for movement through the fog and smoke.

“Todoroki!” she screamed.

She spotted something move ahead of her, and she dashed down the hill and through the smoke.

Her heart almost leapt as Todoroki came into view. Then her gaze landed on the two things he was carrying.

They were Fukukado’s men.

They were slightly burned but appeared to still be alive. Momo’s heart hammered against her ribs.

Todoroki laid the men down on the ground gently and then looked up. His eyes widened.

She didn’t have time to stop as her momentum slammed her into his chest. He reached out and caught her.

“Yaoyorozu,” he said, surprised.

Momo grasped his arm for support as she gasped for breath. Her chiton was ripped from the bushes as she had run down the mountain. And there was a stabbing pain in her side; her lungs felt like the fire from the brush had moved into her chest.

Todoroki’s eyes darkened. “You’re bleeding,” he said, lifting his hand to touch her cheek.

Momo started and pulled back. “Don’t worry. It’s just a scratch,” she said quickly, wiping at her cheek with the back of her hand.

Something rippled across Todoroki's face. He dropped his hand and then stared at her. “Yaoyorozu, what are you doing here?”

“You need to go back. Now!”

“What?”

“It’s a trap! The stymphalian set the fire to lure you away. You need to go back and help. I'll go get Tokoyami.”

Todoroki’s eyes widened. “I’ll go with you.”

“No.” Momo shook her head. “Aizawa and Asui are fighting. They need you.”

She tried to pull away, but his grip was firm on her wrist. “No. I’m not letting you go by yourself, weaponless.”

Momo’s stomach curled. She swallowed and nodded. She was suddenly tired and didn’t have the energy to argue with him. The faster they found Tokoyami, the faster they could get back to the orphanage. He couldn’t be too far away right now.

Satisfied with her response, Todoroki’s expression softened. “Okay. Let’s go. He’s probably around the southeast side,” he said, picking the men up and moving past her.

Momo turned to follow and stumbled slightly before catching herself. She straightened and shook her head to clear her mind.

Todoroki looked back at her. Then, his eyes abruptly widened, and he practically dropped the men as his hand flew to his sword.

“Yaoyorozu!”

Before Momo could react, an arm slipped around her waist, and she was yanked backwards. A dry, rough tongue slid across her cheek.

She gasped in shock. A shiver ran down her spine. It was like she had suddenly been plunged into a freezing, cold lake.

Momo tried to scream, but her voice caught in her throat.

Something was wrong. She inhaled a quick, sharp breath, but her voice wouldn’t work. It felt like her lungs were shriveling inside of her.

Instinctually, her eyes darted to Todoroki.

He was pale and stone-faced as he glared at the one behind her. “Let her go, and I’ll spare you,” Todoroki said slowly, his voice vibrating.

The one holding her barked a dry, guttural sound that was as cold and rough as his tongue had been.

“Like you spared all those Trojans?” the man snarled mockingly.

Momo’s heart dropped into her stomach.

“I think not, Shouto Todoroki. My sponsor wants you to suffer.”

Todoroki’s grip tightened around Endeavor’s hilt until his knuckles whitened. Then he lunged forward. Steel feathers shot out from the foliage, and he jumped back, raising his arm as they sliced into his skin like knives.

He hissed, his eyes flashing in rage, and pulled the feathers from his arm. Blood splattered onto the ground.

Momo watched in increasing terror as eight stymphalian materialized from the fog. They were bigger than any stymphalian she had seen before and more human-looking.

Todoroki slid into a fighting stance as the monsters surrounded him.

She needed to get away. Todoroki was at a significant disadvantage with her as a hostage. Momo tried to wrench away from the man but just trembled and couldn’t. The pounding of her heart against her ribs increased, and her eyes widened as a sense of terror overtook her.

The stymphalian screamed and closed in on Todoroki. He turned and blocked one of the creature’s talons. Then he jumped back, though not fast enough, as black magic clipped his arm.

He rolled his jaw, and his eyes flashed. He lunged for the closest monster, but it was like his whole body had suddenly grown slower. And he missed.

Momo swallowed thickly.

He couldn't take on all ten of the stymphalian with only a sword. He would be killed.

The arm around her waist tightened, like a steel band that pulled her tightly into her captor’s chest. “This, Shouto Todoroki, is your punishment for all the blood you’ve spilled. The pain you've caused. My sponsor will take what you desire most.”

Suddenly, she was lifted into the air.

Todoroki raised his head sharply. His gaze was fierce as he met her eyes. "Yaoyorozu! Hold on, I'll come for you!” he yelled, blocking another attack.

The man carrying her laughed. “Try your best, hero. Struggle, fight, rage,” he rasped as he descended the cliffs into the fog. “Fakes like you are undeserving of being called heroes. Undeserving of happiness."

"Yaoyorozu!" Todoroki's voice was already faint as her kidnapper jumped through the shrubs, carrying her down the mountain.

The world moved past her eyes at a frightening speed. Blood roared through Momo’s ears as the ground seemed to blur. Her captor was agile, jumping from rock to rock with almost inhuman speed.

She needed to think of something, but the jerky movements were disorienting, and her mind lagged.

The smell of the sea grew stronger. Suddenly, her stomach jolted as she was dropped onto a hard wooden surface. The floor rocked.

From the side of her eye, she could make out that they were on a small fishing boat.

She tried to push herself up, but her body refused to move. Panic tightened in her chest as Momo lay there frozen.

There was a scraping sound, and the boat rocked again, but Momo couldn’t move to steady herself. A shadow moved over her, and Momo's eyes widened in terror as a man looked down at her.

He had no nose.

It was as if it had been cut off of his face, leaving only a gaping hole.

A scream bubbled through her, but her mouth refused to open. The man leaned closer. His long black hair tickled against her sternum.

There was a mad glint in his small, blood-red eyes that glowed as he studied her. “Mandrake fumes,” he said after a moment. “They paralyze anyone who smells them.”

She tried to push herself further back into the wood, but nothing. She couldn’t control her body at all.

The man continued. “Unfortunately, they don’t work as well on demi-gods, but on mortals, they are known to be quite effective.” He pulled away and sat back on his heels. “I got lucky you had already breathed in enough, all I had to do was apply a little more of the paste to your cheek for it to have the intended effect,” he continued conversationally as if he were speaking of the weather. Then he looked at her, and his face rippled.

"It’s truly unfortunate that you must be involved in this punishment. As a fellow Trojan, I dislike the idea of having to involve you, but Todoroki must be punished, and my sponsor has specifically asked that you be part of that.” The man’s thin lips twitched and he looked away, his stare becoming distant. “Todoroki was given the name of hero, but we both know he is a hero in title only. I need to make him suffer for destroying our home. Even if it means your death.”

Momo couldn’t move. Couldn’t even scream.

He was crazy. She wasn’t anyone special. Why would her death affect Todoroki?

The man looked back at her, and his stare grew cold. “He killed our citizens. He’s a murderer. Surely you understand?”

The boat bobbed on the waves. She needed to get away. She needed to think of something, but she couldn’t even move her body. She felt tears prick at the edges of her eyes and tried to force them back, but even her control over that was gone, and she felt the liquid run down her cheeks.

It wasn’t enough. She wasn't enough. Her chest constricted at the thought. If only she were stronger, none of this would have happened.

“It is unfortunate.” The noseless man leaned forward and ran his thumb along her cheek, catching the tears. “But this is for the greater good,” he said, flicking the tears from his finger. “My sponsor will be here any moment.”

As if on cue, from the corner of her eye there was a bright flash and the boat suddenly rocked violently. The sweet smell from the mandrake fumes intensified.

The man hovering over her pulled away quickly, moving out of her vision.

“Overhaul,” the noseless man said in greeting.

“I see you’ve brought me what I asked.” The voice that responded to the noseless man was honeyed and sticky but slightly muffled as if he were covering his mouth.

“As promised, the woman in exchange for Todoroki’s life.”

“Of course. You may go now to get your revenge.”

She could practically feel the noseless man’s glee. The boat dipped, and Momo could sense him leave. She tried to wiggle to look at the god, but her body was still frozen.

She couldn't move. Couldn't even scream or cry. Tokoyami didn't know she had been taken, and Todoroki would never be able to get to her in time. She was only a replaceable slave. She couldn't fight well, could barely cook a decent meal. There was no reason he'd come for her, especially against a god.

Sandals clicked against the wood and a figure moved into her vision. A handsome man who appeared to be in his mid-twenties with short, dark brown hair and piercing gold eyes. A long gold-tipped beak covered his mouth.

Momo felt a cold dread curl within her.

Overhaul. The god of nightmares.

“Momo Yaoyorozu.” The god said her name slowly as if he were tasting each syllable. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

His gold eyes stared at her unblinking. Her body broke out in a cold sweat. His eyes were cold and filled with a thinly veiled cruelty. Momo had to remind herself to breathe as they lingered on her.

Suddenly, the god tilted his head as if something had just struck him. “Ah, I see the mandrake fumes are still in effect.” His voice sounded almost amused. “No worries, they should wear off soon. We can’t have you sitting out during the main event. ”

Momo stared at him, a cold dread pouring over her. Her heart pounded in her chest so fiercely she thought it might stop as his words sunk in.

What was he going to do?

As if he could read her mind — and perhaps he could — the god chuckled before saying, “The son of Ares will be here sooner or later.” His eyes burned with promise. “But, until then, we should prepare.”

The god knelt down next to her. He reached out with a gloved hand and brought two fingers to her temple. “Let’s make the Spartan suffer some. See how well he can fight when he sees the woman he wants drowning in her dreams.”

Her world spun violently, then turned dark.

#todomomo #todoroki x yaoyorozu #ashes of love and war #todoroki shouto #Yaoyorozu Momo #My writing #My Story

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harrypotter-imaginess · 5 years

Text

A/N: unlike most others this is more or less obliviously for a female reader. I can do I male/NB version upon request

- you probably go to Hogwarts and she goes to beauxbatons

- It’s sort of a fast friendship

- You actually probably bond over periods

- She’s standing in a small pharmacy in Hogsmeade, her eyebrows threaded together staring at the tampons.

- You’ve seen her a handful of times around the castle, and quite frankly, you’re incredibly intimidated.

- For one, Fleur is strikingly beautiful. So beautiful, that you’re not quite sure if you can even manage a sentence around her.

- And second, she hasn’t hidden her disdain for Hogwarts or the British ministry of Magic very well quite frankly.

- But watching her so helplessly perplexed as she stares at the feminine hygiene products makes you gather every ounce of your courage.

- “Is there something you’re confused about?” You ask her in a very quite voice, making sure to pick your words carefully.

- She looks at you for several very long seconds, before she finally says.

- “It iz this.” A finger taps on the box of the tampons, and you see that she’s pointing to the picture of the applicator.

- You vaguely remember a trip to France you took with your family several years ago, and how your Mum had complained how she couldn’t find any tampons with a plastic applicator, they were all cardboard.

- “You want one with a cardboard applicator?” You ask and she nods, a little shy.

- “Do you want me to go get an attendant? I’m sure they wo-“ she cuts you off by grabbing your arm.

- “I do not want an’one to know.” She whispers quietly.

- You nod.

- She doesn’t need to explain, she’s already under fierce scrutiny as a contender for the tournament. She doesn’t want another article popping up about her period.

- Something surely none of the boys have to deal with.

- “We’ll just have to read all of these boxes then,” you say, crouching down. “It’s usually in the corner.” You say pointing to the spot on the box where it’s written

- Fleur’s eyebrows thread together.

- “You are ‘elping moi?” She asks, and you just nod.

- “Why?”

- Her shock that someone not from her own school would help her, makes you a bit sad. It’s an unsaid rule in Hogwarts that if at anytime any girl needs something like this, even if she’s an enemy. You help her.

- “Real queens always help fix each other’s crowns.” You say with a shrug, and Fleur smiles.

- It’s not like the haughty smiles you’ve seen before, or the smirk she wore when she was picked.

- This smile is genuine and warm, and you find yourself smiling back.

- You spend the good part of the afternoon going to several shops trying to find a box.

- And afterwards you invite Fleur to get a butterbeer.

- “You know, British food iz very bland.” She says in her heavy French accent, but she smiles at the end taking another sip.

- “But zis,” She motions to the butterbeer. “zis I like.”

- And you’re glad that she’s found one thing she likes about being at Hogwarts.

- She picks you out in the corridor after that day, waving you over to talk to you about his or that.

- She introduces you to her friends, who ask you about all the hot gossip.

- “So, who would you say is the most handsome boy at Hogwarts?”

- “O-oh, um I’m not quite sure?”

- Seeing you’re discomfort Fleur will wave them away.

- “(Y/N) does not ‘ave time for boys, they on’lee want men.”

- At that the other girls coo in agreement and you silently thank her.

- She finds herself at your dorm quite a bit in the next weeks.

- You share smuggled sweets with her, and exchange bits of conversation and advice.

- “Eet iz not that I ‘ate ‘ogwarts,” she says lying on your bed, “eet iz all just so un-“ And her eyebrows thread together, and you know her well enough to realize she can’t remember the word for it.

- “Unfamiliar?”

- “Yes!”

- “You’re homesick?” You ask, and she sighs.

- “Oui.” She nods and you settle beside her. That night you listen to soft French cassette tapes on your Walkman with her, and she feels a bit better in the morning.

- “So what’s up with you and the fairy princess?” Fred Weasley will ask, and you shrug.

- “She’s nice.”

- George clucks his tongue.

- “That pretty face of hers got you too?” And at that you shake your head.

- If anything “that pretty face” was why you kept away from her to begin with.

- “It’s not the face,” you tell them, searching for the right words. “She has a lot of unexpected kindness.”

- You’re there for Fleur when she’s looking for a escort to the Yule Ball.

- “(Y/N), why don’t you go with me?” She asks eyes bright.

- You roll your eyes.

- “What to make the rumors true?” And she rolls her eyes.

- Fleur hasn’t had the easiest time getting along with the students here, and her general dislike for the boys here hasn’t helped.

- And ever since you two had gotten close a small, rather insignificant, rumor had started.

- That you and Fleur were lesbians of course, secretly dating.

- It seemed to explain why she rebuffed most of the boys who approached her.

- “What do I care what othër people think, huh?” She asks, turning in her bed so she’s resting on her stomach. “You would be acc’mpanying me as my closest confidânt”

- You smile when she touches your shoulder, and you give her hand a squeeze.

- “Well Fleur, ya shoulda asked me sooner, I already said yes to George.”

- At this she sits up, and you glance at her from the floor.

- “The one wiz the red ‘air?” She asks, a clearly perplexed look crossing her face. “Wiz all zee freckles?”

- You roll your eyes, you love Fleur but sometimes she can be a little shallow.

- “We’re going as friends,” You tell her, and add “Besides he’s funny, and I actually like his freckles.”

- At that she grins

- “You, how you British say, you fancy him!” And she’s grinning broadly as you hide your face in your hands.

- You’re actually the one to suggest the Ravenclaw quidditch Captain, Roger Davies to her as a date.

- “He’s handsome and fit, if all you need is a date he should do.” You tell her.

- “I s’ppose since you refuse to acc’mpany me.” She says glumly, but you don’t miss the teasing grin on her face.

- A lot happens in this school year, Cedric is gone, Voldemort is back, Harry is the chosen one, and you’ve got no DADA teacher again.

- And to add to it, your best friend will be leaving soon

- “I vil write.” She promises, tears filling in those clear blue eyes.

- She grips your hand in both of hers and you nod

- “You better,” you smile back “just because you can find tampons on your own doesn’t mean you can leave me behind.”

- She laughs and squeezes you hand

- “I could never leave you be’ind.”

- You have to hold back tears as you see the carriages leave.

- But the farewell is not exceptionally long as by the summer, Fleur takes a job at Gringotts.

- “Fleur!” You practically squeal when you see her, and she shouts your name as well and rushes up to hug you.

- She smells like Parisian sweets and a fire.

- “So what made you decide to come back?” You ask her as you have lunch in a French restaurant.

- Fleur shrugs

- “Zee opportunity was good.” She says taking a large bite of her grilled peach salad.

- But seeing your skeptical expression she sighs.

- “When I got ‘ome, I found myself missing p’mpkin juice and butt’erbeer,” And then in a much softer voice she says:

- “And you.”

- Her cheeks have a rosy tinge and you’re sure yours do as well.

- “But also because of Bill.” You tease, and she laughs

- “Yes, maybe also Bill.” She admits

- You’re one of her brides maids, if not her maid of honor, at her wedding.

- Fred and George are two of his best men, and stand on either side as they walk you down the aisle.

- “Blimey that’s a lot of lights.” Fred mutters.

- “You’re telling me, had to stay up until 4 fixing them up there.” You whisper back, barely hiding a yawn.

- George takes a good look at you.

- “That explains the pound of make up.” He grins when you discreetly elbow him in the ribs.

- “You look better without it” He adds, leaving you a little perplexed as you take you place near the alter.

- Fleur is beautiful, and you tear up at their vows

- “If I don’t watch out (Y/N) will steal her away.” Bill teases during the reception, but he’s grateful Fleur came back to London because of you.

- You dance the night away, a handful of times with Fleur, a few with Ginny and several of the other guests, once with Harry and once with George.

- “You want to put you feet on mine and take a quick snooze?” He jokes, and you snort

- “I think I can manage.”

- “You know, eef you we’e to maree one of Bill’s brothers, we could be sisters.” She tells you early one morning over breakfast, a glint in her eye, and you almost scoff.

- “Yes, which one should I pick? Percy who loves his career more than women, or Charlie, who undoubtedly only loves dragons.” You’re half joking, but she falters for a second.

- “I was talking about George.” And the glint is back, and you just shake your head.

- It’s true, you’ve always been on good terms with George, you would even say you were close. But after all that’s happened,with the war and Fred, you bet marriage is the last thing he’s thinking about.

- “Ah,” she sighs, taking a sip of coffee. “I s’uppose we’ll just have to share Bill then.” And you nearly choke on your coffee as she bursts out laughing.

- When they have Victoire, Fleur name’s you the godmother while George is The Godfather.

- She sends a teasing wink, and you nearly roll your eyes.

- “She’s a beauty ain’t she?” George asks as you watch Fleur cradle the baby.

- And you raise an eyebrow

- “Finally under the fairy princess’s charm?” You tease, and George scoffs.

- “Talkin’ about the baby (Y/N).”

- “Ah, yes” you feel yourself flush a bit red.

- George seems to sit up a bit straighter in his chair. And for several long seconds he doesn’t say anything, eyebrows threaded together as if he’s perplexed. You can tell that even though he’s not saying anything, he certainly wants to.

- “Did those rumors back in school actually mean something?” He finally asks, and now your eyebrows thread together

- “What?”

- “Are you in love with Fleur?” He asks bluntly and you burst out laughing. Oh that would be a real treat wouldn’t it? You think.

- You haven’t thought about those rumors in years, with all that’s happened, the war, you figured everyone else had forgotten as well.

- Bill would probably love that, you can’t help but think with a wide grin.

- You’re laughing so hard tears are streaming down your face.

- Several nurses glance at you two. You, who’s laughing so hard you’re hunched over. And George who’s blushing beet red, with the expression of a truly mortified man.

- “You haven’t got to laugh so hard yknow.” He says, slightly annoyed and completely embarrassed.

- “No,” you say finally calming down. “I love Fleur, like a sister, but I’m not in love with her.” You’re still giggling, unable to contain the idea.

- “Well then how about you and I go get a butterbeer sometime?”

- You raise an eyebrow

- “A butterbeer?”

- “You prefer fire whisky?” He asks with a crooked smile, and you smile back

- Maybe you’ll be sisters-in-law yet.

- “Butterbeer is fine, are you free Friday after work?”

- He grins.

- “I’m quite literally willing to be free whenever you want.”

- “It’s a date then.”

- Fleur is already planning the wedding.

- Even after you end up getting married, to George or someone else, the joke that you and Fleur are lesbians persists

- “Mate I think I’d know if my wife was a lesbian.” Bill finally says at a family dinner, laughing as he takes an affectionate glance at Fleur.

- “Oh you laugh now, but just you wait, one of these days you’ll wake up and notice (Y/N) and Fleur have run off together in the middle of the night.” Ron persists, a grin spreading across his face.

- “Oh you’ve caught us, Ron!”

- “Yes, zat was our master plan, I m’rry Bill and ‘ave the beautiful children, and (Y/N) will marry George and get ‘alf of ‘is money.” Fleur teases

- “And then we would run away together, and have the beautiful children and all the money.” You finish, you exchange a look with Fleur and grin.

- “But now zat you ‘ave cau’t us, I suppose we will ‘ave to give up.”

- Honestly everyone’s so shocked that Fleur had a sense of humor, they end up laughing from the surprise.

- Later George will pull you aside, and with a somewhat nervous smile will ask:

- “That was just a joke wasn’t it? You didn’t really marry me to get all my money?”

- You roll your eyes

- “George, some months I made more than you do.” You grin, lightly pushing his chest.

- George nods, you do make more money than him on average.

- “Alright that’s fair.”

- You get to watch your children grow up together

- You get to go through life with your best friend at every step of the way

#harry potter imagine #harry potter hogwarts mystery #fleur delcour x reader #fleur delacour x reader #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #weasley imagine #bill weasley imagine #bill weasley x reader #harry potter headcanon #fleur delacour headcanon

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misssunflowersandsangria · 3 years

Text

Please Have Snow and Mistletoe- Final Chapter

Merry Christmas my sweet deers! I hope that you’ve all had a wonderful holiday season or just a lovely Winter. I made it! Here we are at The End. It’s short and sweet. Enjoy! Summary: The Big Day

Chapter 5: Joyeux

Flashback

“Yes, mother we’ll be there soon. Yes, of course, she’s coming.”

“I didn’t want to tell you before because I knew you’d be a nag about it.”

“Yes, you did raise me better than that. I’m sorry.”

“We’ll be there soon, she’s excited to meet you.”

Shikamaru ended the call annoyed. His mother just couldn’t let things go. She managed to guilt-trip him into coming home earlier. Which he hadn’t done. There were more deals to close and projects to work on. That came with a price. When she demanded an explanation about why he wasn’t home yet his mouth began to spout lies about a girlfriend and conflicting schedules. Now he had to produce some female that could act like a doting girlfriend for just a few days. He had his assistant arrange a few “auditions” for him when he landed. He just needed to pick some un-troublesome women that could play along and keep his secret for a generous amount of money. It was deceitful and a little pathetic when he thought about it but there was little else he could do.

He left the airport lounge on the way to the tarmac where the private planes boarded. He’d heard the announcement about the weather cancellations and was thankful that he wasn’t flying commercial. He couldn’t delay going home any longer lest his mother come there and drag him home herself.

That’s when he saw her. Blonde, beautiful with a tinge of sadness and disappointment in her striking teal eyes. Her face continued to fall as the customer service representative explained that the flights were all canceled. She, like so many others, probably had grand plans to be home for the holidays. Why her disappointment mattered more to him than anyone else’s, he wasn’t sure.

“Excuse me.”

End flashback

“What’s wrong my darling? Did Santa not bring you what you wanted this year?” Karura asked her daughter with a worried smile.

“How can you tell?” Temari wondered. She thought that she’d gone through the motions quite well. Her family was excited to have her back home and had gone through the usual holiday activities. She was happy and thankful to be back home but her heart was still heavy, despite pieces of it missing. Left in the leaves, covered by the snow.

Her mother drew her in tight and kissed her forehead. “Your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes.” She had always told her that her eyes could never tell a lie.

Temari held onto her tight, Shikamaru’s stuffed deer that he’d hidden in her suitcase between them. She needed her mother’s comfort, hoping it could patch up the missing piece of her heart. “As powerful and magical as Santa is Mama, I don’t think that he can give me what I want this year.”

Karura gazed down at her daughter wishing that she could ease her heartache. “Well there’s still some Christmas left, amazing things can happen. And you my little Sand Storm deserve all the magic that it can give.”

“I have you and my brothers. I don’t need anything else.” It felt wrong lying to her mother.

“I’m not quite sure about that. Have some faith Temari. Especially today.”

Kankuro knocked on her door, interrupting the moment.

“Uhm Temari, there’s a guy outside in a fancy suit with a really expensive car looking for you. He seems a little too well dressed to be a hitman but uh I can try to get rid of him for you.”

Her heart began to beat rapidly, hope and warmth blossoming in her chest. “Did he give a name?”

“Shika something? I have Gaara keeping an eye on him.”

She stormed out of there to find him standing in the living room by their Christmas tree. Karura herded her sons away to give them some privacy.

“Shikamaru, what are you doing here?” She asked in disbelief that he was there.

“I shouldn’t have let you go the way that I did.”

His eyes were soft but thoughtful. “All my life I worked hard for what I wanted. Sacrificing time and relationships to acquire the things that I thought I needed to give my life meaning. I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished but these last few days with you, well it showed me that there’s so much more.”

He stepped forward taking her shaky hands in his. “I kept trying to convince myself that this couldn’t be real. I'm not good with feelings. I’m rational, I plan. I could have never planned on you coming into my life. But I’ve never been more sure of anything. You and me together Tem. It just makes sense. I don’t need the presents, the snow, any of it. I just want you.”

His hand gently cupped her face, his thumb wiping away the stray tears that managed to escape her eyes.

“I want to keep playing with you in the snow till our fingers freeze. Have you teach me how to bake cookies. I want to take snowy walks to feed the deer, and to kiss you even when there’s no mistletoe. I want to share in and create even more traditions with you.”

She settled into his arms feeling her heart mend itself.

“This is absolutely crazy but if this year taught me anything it’s that life is unpredictable.” She gazed up at him, his soft brown eyes filled with love and joy for her.

“Shikamaru, you’re everything that I could have ever wished for. I don’t know if it was those long conversations where we’d talk about everything or the quiet moments that you just held me in your arms or if it really is just that we’re meant to be together. My heart is yours. I wanted so much for you to ask me to stay but I’m glad that you came to your senses. This is the best thing that you could have given me.”

She delighted in the warm kiss they shared. Thankful that this time she knew how they both felt. If he hadn’t followed her home she might have chased after him. Unable to imagine a life without him there.

When they separated he pulled her in tight layering kisses along her head. She was there in his arms again and it all felt right.

“So you must be Temari’s final Christmas gift.”

They looked up finding Karura standing there with a bright smile on her face.

“Sorry for interrupting. I’m Shikamaru. Your daughter is incredible and I just needed her to know that.” Temari blushed at the compliment and the amused look on her mother’s face.

“She really is, well we were just about to sit down for dinner so come on, there’s always room for one more.” Shikamaru was grateful to be welcomed to join with their traditions.

Temari took his hand in hers with an excited grin across her face. The new couple followed Karura into the dining room where Temari’s brothers were sitting tense and unsure.

Karura was kind and welcoming towards Shikamaru. She pushed her sons to be the same although they were more confused and worried about him.

Ice cold stares from Temari was enough to make them behave. This along with the additional gifts he’d had brought. By the end of the night, they warmed up to him and were closer to believing that he was good enough for their sister.

The food was eaten and the gifts exchanged. They called Shikaku and Yoshino to let them know that he made it. Amd to introduce them at least over the phone to her family. Numbers were exchanged and promises made to have combined family events in the future.

As the night came to a close, Shikamaru and Temari were dressed in another set of matching pajamas that he’d also given to her family. This set had a festive arrangement of cactuses to celebrate her home. She took him outside bundled up in blankets and jackets to gaze up at the desert night sky.

“This is kind of my own tradition. I’d come out here late Christmas night to look at the stars.”

He held her close as she described the different constellations. Content just to hear her voice.

Temari gazed at him, still amazed that he was there.

“So how did this all come about?”

“After you left my mom was inconsolable. I’d never seen her like that. Both of them were pretty annoyed that I hadn’t given you an engagement ring. Everything else was the same, but you weren’t there anymore. It felt empty and I couldn't handle the rest of my days being like that.”

He pulled her into a kiss, a simple reminder that she really was there.

“Nothing about how we left it felt right. I wanted so much to stop you from leaving or to follow you to the airport. I kept convincing myself that it just wasn’t possible. You don’t fall for someone that quickly. It’s pretty clear I’m a stubborn person. But with all the time we spent together, the conversations and experiences that we shared. How could I not fall for you? You’re my person.”

The whole time, he was falling right along with her.

Her fingers trailed over the watch she’d given him, remembering that fateful day. How different her day might be if it all hadn’t happened the way it did. How different her life would be.

She nestled herself into his arms sharing lazy loving kisses between them. “So what does tomorrow hold for us?”

With the bright lights of a million stars above them, her safe and warm in his arms, all was calm. And their futures bright.

“Everything.”

Please Have Snow and Mistletoe

Chapter 1: Flight XMAS

Chapter 2: A Scene from a Snowglobe

Chapter 3: Sweeter than a Sugar Plum

Chapter 4: A Christmas Poem

Chapter 5: Joyeux

Phew I can’t believe I wrote this in time. Also yes, Karura is there because I need more stories where the Sand Sibs have therir lovely mommy. You can imagine whatever you want for Rasa. I hope that you all enjoyed my Christmas gift to you! Writing and interacting with all you lovely readers has been my saving grace in such a crazy year. So you are all my gifts. Thank you for reading, all your love, and support and I hope that Santa brings you your own Shikamaru ;D I love you and see you in the new year!

#shikatema #shikatem #shikamaru x temari #naruto #naruto fanfiction #naruto fanfic #christmas fluff #holiday fluff #modern au #fake dating #home for the holidays #we got snow and mistletoe #christmas day #sangriaslips #sunflowerstalks #ill be home for christmas #all is calm #all is bright #merry christmas loves

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juniperwindsong · 5 years

Text

Dragonology 101 (5/10)

Summary:

A shiver runs through Felix that has nothing to do with the cold. Something does not feel right about the way the dragon is staring at them. Its eyes are more menacing, more calculating than he has ever seen before...and he realises all in an instant the very real danger they're in.

November arrives unreasonably cold and gloomy, even for Scotland, and presents a growing problem with Felix and Juniper's dragon. Quite literally. Sparky is now almost 12 feet in length, and is becoming obviously restless with his small enclosure. Felix makes note of the way the dragon paces the edges of the ravine, craning his neck over the top. Occasionally, he makes an attempt to claw at the earthen walls. And although the dirt is always too soft to support the dragon's weight, crumbling away before he can get a foothold, Felix begins to be seriously concerned.

"He needs exercise," Juniper says as they walk back to the castle in the wee hours of the morning. With no sun to provide even an illusion of warmth, the air is frigid and both are huddled deep inside their cloaks.

"He needs more space," argues Felix, trying not to shiver too visibly. "He can't stay there for much longer."

"Well, where would you like to put him, then, the Quidditch pitch?" asks Juniper shortly, though whether it's the temperature or the situation grating at her nerves Felix can't say.

"Of course not," he snaps back, pushing his scarf down past his mouth to speak more freely. "I mean, it's time we think about finding a more permanent home for him. Get him back up to the mountains somehow. We're no closer to fixing his wing than we were two months ago, and he's only going to get bigger. If we wait too long, he'll be climbing out of there on his own and then he's bound to be spotted."

Juniper considers this as they exit the forest. Once they leave the relative protection provided by the trees, however, the two Slytherins are hit by the full force of the bitter wind, and are forced to duck their heads and make a undignified sprint for the castle. Further conversation is impossible until they reach the warmth and safety of their common room.

"You know, we don't know that he can't fly," remarks Juniper as she unwinds her scarf from around her neck and stuffs it into her pocket.

"He wouldn't still be here if he could,” Felix replies, folding his own scarf neatly and draping it over his arm.

"Not necessarily. He doesn't have any real space to manoeuvre in that ditch thing. It could be he just doesn't have enough room to take off,” Juniper pulls out her silver pocket watch to check the time. "Plus, the tree canopy is pretty thick there, there's only a few little gaps. He might not even know he can fly out that way. I never did find out how he got in there."

Felix mulls this over as his eyes sweep automatically across the common room, checking for any evidence of wrongdoing that may have occurred in his absence.

"I suppose that's a possibility," he concedes dubiously. "But how are we going to get him out of there to test him? And where can we take him where he won't be seen?"

"I have an idea about the second one," says Juniper thoughtfully, "But not the first. How do you get a dragon out a ditch?"

How do you get a dragon out of a ditch?

It sounds like the set-up to a joke, Felix thinks wryly, but the question consumes him over the next two days.

Levitate it? That's a simple enough spell, and they're both excellent at Charms. There's a good chance the two of them together could lift the dragon out. Although, Felix admits to himself, levitating a heavy object is not the same as levitating a heavy, struggling, magic-resistant dragon. And even if they managed it, he seriously doubts the dragon will appreciate their efforts. Felix supposes they could put it to sleep first, or immobilise it, but those spells are rather more difficult. And if they don't succeed on the first try...

At best, they'll likely lose whatever small trust they've earned with the dragon, and at worst, it could attack. Creatures don't generally take kindly to magic being used on them, and it's not as if the two students can explain what they're trying to do.

Felix wishes he could pick Juniper's brain about the issue. She's been known to have the occasional clever idea. But they rarely have the opportunity to speak to each other outside of their evening excursions. If there is anyone at Hogwarts with less free time than Felix, it's Juniper Windsong. Between her commitments to her burgeoning friend group and the Slytherin Quidditch team, the new cursed vault phenomena that he's sure she's still secretly investigating, and the school work he can only assume she's keeping up with, Juniper has every minute of her day accounted for. The only times he sees her in the common room anymore are occasional evening revision sessions with Rowan, and Felix isn't keen to discuss their illicit trips to the forest in front of anyone else.

It's for this reason that the first time the two of them can really discuss their dragon problem in depth is as they walk toward it together the next evening.

"What about using reducio on him? Shrink him down?" suggests Juniper through her many layers. "Then we can reverse it with engorgio when we're somewhere else."

Their footsteps crunch loudly as they step through the now frost-tinged grass and brambles carpeting the forest floor.

"It's incredibly risky using the shrinking charm on living things, you know that," chides Felix.

"I do know, but I also know it's possible. I've done it on myself loads of times," Juniper boasts.

Felix furrows his brow. "That does not make it any less risky." he counters, disapproval in his voice. "Anyway, you're a good deal smaller and lighter than a dragon. I don't know that we'd be able to pull it off just the two of us.

"And even if we did," he continues, raising his voice over Juniper's fledgling argument, "I don't think he'll appreciate being shrunk and resized. It could provoke him to attack."

"Hmm," Juniper hums, sounding slightly annoyed. She pushes a thin, whipping branch to the side with a little too much force and it snaps. "I suppose you're probably right. What's your better idea, then?"

"I think we'll have more luck using magic on the surrounding terrain than the dragon itself,” predicts Felix sagely.

"What, blast a hole in one of the walls or something?"

Felix smirks, a little smug. Powerful for her age Juniper may be, but her magic is still lacking in finesse. "Or something."

While Juniper tosses rabbits up to Sparky as quickly as she can (the dragon eats them in one gulp now and is always impatient for more), Felix walks to the opposite side of the valley and inspects the wall near the small pool of water. Like all the surrounding walls, it's formed of dirt and earth with roots and small stones stuck in at random. But the wall nearest the water has a stickier, clay-like texture that Felix thinks might be better suited to the plan he has in mind. He runs his gloved hand along it, searching for the firmest area.

Felix hears the dragon's heavy footfalls behind him and turns to see Juniper approaching, the sack over her shoulder and the dragon at her heels. He makes eye contact with it, wondering if the burning, inscrutable look in its eyes might be interpreted as curiosity. They're more intelligent than anyone gives them credit for, thinks Felix fondly.

"So," Juniper says, stamping her feet a bit with cold, free hand deep in the pocket of her trousers, "What's the plan?"

Felix turns back to the earth in front of him. "Just watch," he says and pulls out his wand.

"Defodio," Felix pronounces clearly, directing his wand in a horizontal line. A deep gouge appears in the wall, the displaced earth falling to the ground in a small shower. Juniper and the dragon both take a step back. Felix repeats his spell again and again over the course of several minutes, changing the direction of his wand, until finally, solid earth steps about a metre wide form a rough but sizable staircase leading out of the valley.

"And there you are," proclaims Felix, more than a little proud of himself.

"Wow!" Juniper breathes out. She grins broadly at Felix, obviously impressed. "Very cool!"

Juniper moves closer to inspect the staircase while Felix tries hard to arrange his features into a more modest expression. He's unduly pleased with her praise.

"Will they hold Sparky up, do you reckon?" she asks.

"One way to find out," Felix replies, reaching out to take the bag from her shoulder. "You go first, you're the lightest."

Juniper shoots a face at Felix as if this were an offensive statement, although he can't see how, but she makes no comment as she begins to climb carefully. The steps being spaced for a creature with a much longer stride, Juniper is forced to use her hands as well. When she reaches the top, Felix walks forward to examine the steps. There's no visible wear to them, only the light imprint of her shoes.

"They look alright," Felix declares, turning slightly to face the dragon. Sparky's eyes are fixed hungrily on the bag slung carelessly across his shoulder. "I guess the real trick will be getting him to actually climb them."

"Hand up the sack," Juniper calls down. Careful not to turn his back to the dragon, Felix awkwardly slings the bag up toward Juniper's waiting fingers.

"Stand out of his way,” she instructs Felix. He takes a few steps back and to the side so Sparky has a clear view of the stairs and the girl.

"Here, Sparky!"

Juniper throws a rabbit underhand toward where Sparky is standing. The dragon snatches it out of the air, but makes no movement forward. She aims her next throw at the bottom of the stairs, too far for the dragon to catch without moving. Sparky steps forward to pick up the rabbit, and Juniper takes a few steps back from the edge of the ravine.

"Here, boy!" Juniper calls again, this time tossing the rabbit onto the topmost step. Sparky places a foreleg on the bottom of the rough staircase and cranes his neck up to grab the treat.

Felix waits with bated breath, willing the step to hold. It does.

"C'mon, Sparky," encourages Juniper, but the dragon needs no more incentive. Recognizing an escape route, Sparky makes a hasty scramble up the wide steps. His claws leave deep gouges in the earth but it holds, and the dragon reaches the top and thrusts himself over the ledge in a matter of seconds.

"Yes!" Felix exclaims under his breath, flushed with his success.

Sparky lets out an exultant, musical roar like a trumpet's reveille, and Felix realises belatedly that Juniper is now alone facing a dragon with a full range of movement.

"Windsong!" he cries as he rushes toward the steps, taking them as fast as he can.

When Felix reaches the top, however, he finds Juniper is already moving off through the forest, tossing rabbits at a merrily trotting Sparky.

"Follow me! I know a place," she says brightly, as if they were guiding nothing more dangerous than a lost mooncalf.

Shaking his head, Felix brings up the rear of their strange caravan as they make their way through the forest in the opposite direction of the castle. As he walks, Felix notices the trees in this part of the forest seem less densely clumped, and some are bent and broken at strange angles, as though something strong had forced a path through them. He wonders if this is the way the dragon took into the forest in the first place.

After a brief walk, the tree line comes to an abrupt end at the top of a small, rolling hill. Their little train stutters to a halt, and Juniper moves aside so Sparky can take in the landscape. As Felix walks around the dragon to stand beside Juniper, he sees what look like sloping plains covered in long grass, waving eerily in the dark.

"We're here!" says Juniper proudly. "These grasslands go on for miles. Sparky will have plenty of space to-"

Juniper breaks off, covering her ears, as the dragon lets out a musical roar of obvious approval right next to her. With no further warning, Sparky breaks into a camper down the hill and across the dark ground, wings outstretched and tail dancing behind him. The force of his movement throws Juniper off balance, and Felix has to put out a hand to steady her elbow so she doesn't fall. She seems not to notice, all her attention on the dragon's diminishing outline.

"Sparky!" Juniper cries, running forward clumsily as the bag bounces on her back.

Felix has no choice but to follow her. Flat-out running is not an action he's much practiced in and he descends the hill with more caution than Juniper. He doesn't catch her up until she stops, a few minutes later, bent over double and breath coming in gasps. Energy, she may have in spades, but the tiny thirteen year old is simply not capable of matching a dragon's speed.

"What do we do?" Juniper asks Felix between gasps. He hears something unfamiliar in her voice and thinks it might be panic.

Felix stares out into the dark, empty plain ahead of them where the figure of the dragon grows rapidly smaller and smaller. There's a lump in his throat as he answers.

"We don't do anything. It's...he's free now. That was the whole point, wasn't it?"

Felix does his best to keep his voice steady and confident, revealing nothing of the sick writhing in his stomach. He has completely failed to consider how it would feel for something that had come to mean so much to him in the last two months to be suddenly gone from his life.

"But we don't know if he can fly yet! He'll never survive if he can't fly." Her voice rising in pitch and volume. "Someone will see him! The ministry will get called in! We can't just let him run away!" Juniper's tone reveals all the brokenness Felix feels but cannot show.

"We can't exactly stop him." Felix wants to comfort her, wants to comfort himself, but he doesn't have the first idea how. "And... we don't know that he can't fly, like you said."

Felix is saved from trying to think up more platitudes by a thunderous noise and the reappearance of the brilliantly green dragon in the distance ahead of them.

Sparky is running flat out, wings spread wide as if poised for flight. Every few steps, the dragon gives a sort of wild hop, throwing himself forward and pulling his legs in, powerful wings beating rhythmically at his sides. But while wind catches underneath the right wing, the left wing falters, the torn wing panels fluttering uselessly. Sparky lands on his face and forelegs, skidding forward with a roar of frustration. Momentum keeps him moving, and he runs forward another few steps before trying the comical manoeuvre again.

Juniper and Felix watch wordlessly for several minutes as the dragon tries desperately to take flight. After one particularly fierce jump, Sparky slams hard into the ground and lets out a screech of pain and frustration like a strangled clarinet.

Juniper puts her hand across her mouth and turns her head away. Felix understands. It's a painful sight, watching such a magnificent creature reduced to this pathetic, undignified scramble. His heart aches as Sparky cries out again, obvious despair in the deep musical roar.

"I guess... that answers that question," Juniper whispers.

They wait there in the cold grass for what feels like hours, unsure of what to do or how to help.

Eventually, Sparky wears himself out. He throws himself to the ground in a heap, releasing one last bellow, like a fiery sob. The dragon rests in the grass a short distance away for several minutes before Juniper finds her feet. She drags the sack up from where she's let it slump to the ground, and begins to walk forward.

"Sparky," calls Juniper softly, reaching into the bag for a rabbit.

The dragon raises its head, his eyes weary, but still alight with that ferocious yellow fire.

"Windsong, wait!" Felix hisses, catching her up and grabbing her arm to stop her getting any closer. "He may not be in the best mood right now."

"Well, we can't just leave him there, we have to get him back," says Juniper, ever pragmatic, and wrenches her arm free. She continues to step forward, perhaps with a shade more caution, keeping her eyes on the panting dragon.

"And how do you propose we do that?" Felix whispers from behind her. He isn't sure why, but the nerves he felt during his first few visits with the dragon have returned, and he feels the need to keep his voice low.

"The same way we got him here," Juniper replies testily. She's close enough to make eye contact with Sparky, and she tosses a rabbit toward him.

The dragon lets the rabbit fall to the ground, his reptilian eyes never leaving Juniper's. For several tense seconds, they stare at each other. Then, with almost sarcastic slowness, Sparky lowers his head to the small corpse and snaps it up, swallowing it whole and maintaining eye contact all the while.

Juniper and Felix stand awkwardly in front of the dragon, unsure how to interpret this little display.

"C'mon, Sparky," Juniper cajoles,"Time to go home." She takes a few steps back and tosses another rabbit about a metre in front of the dragon's face.

Sparky does not move. His eyes, still fixed on Juniper, are venomous and resentful.

"You can do it, Sparky,” she says coaxingly. She walks backward, tossing a third rabbit, and then a fourth, creating a trail for the dragon to follow.

With exaggerated slowness, the dragon clambers to his feet and takes deliberate steps toward Juniper, scooping up the rabbits as he walks.

"See?" Juniper says in relief to Felix, who is keeping pace beside her, "He's just tired."

But a shiver runs through Felix that has nothing to do with the cold. Something does not feel right about the way the dragon is staring at them. Its eyes are more menacing, more calculating than he has ever seen before. He suddenly remembers everything he's ever read about how dragons cannot be domesticated, how they feel no true affection for humans.

They're more intelligent than anyone give them credit for, Felix thinks again, only this time it's with dread. While he had no way to escape or hunt, Sparky had permitted their presence. But now that he's free, Felix knows the dragon regards them as threats. And he realises all in an instant the very real danger they're in.

Felix draws his wand surreptitiously.

"Windsong," he whispers as quietly as he can, but the dragon turns its head a fraction to stare him in the eye. Felix gulps unconsciously. When he continues, he keeps his voice even and low, "I want you to draw your wand, very slowly. No sudden movements."

Juniper glances at him, confused. She does not seem to have picked up at all on the dragon's change of attitude. "Why?" she asks softly.

They're approaching the edge of the forest now. The small hill, the only thing between them and the cover of the trees, is just a few steps behind.

"I don't think he's going to come with us," mutters Felix.

As he speaks, Sparky looks up and notices the looming forest as well. Fast as lightning, the dragon drops his head between his front legs and lets out a ferocious roar that roots them to the spot.

"I think you might be right," Juniper whispers, her voice hoarse.

Felix watches the dragon stamp out a challenge in front of them, trying to think through his fear.

"When I say, we make a run for the trees,” murmurs Felix, keeping his voice as calm as he can. "Make for the denser areas where it can't get through."

"But we have to get him back," Juniper insists, and her doggedness in the face of their mortal danger causes Felix's nerves to snap.

"Windsong!" he barks, taking his eyes from the dragon to glare at her, and Sparky lunges.

There's a bright green blur on the edge of Felix's vision. His body knows what's happening before his brain has time to process. Felix grabs Juniper's arm and yanks her behind him as he runs forward and to the side of the pouncing dragon, skirting it by a hair.

Sparky skids to a halt, trying to change direction quickly, and Felix uses that split second to push Juniper ahead of him up the hill.

"Run!" he commands, glancing behind to determine Sparky's location.

The dragon is already crouched for a second spring, and Felix knows they won't make the top of the hill in time to avoid it. Wand drawn, he aims for the dragon's eyes and yells out the conjunctivitis curse.

Sparky is in the air as the spell hits him square in the face, and his shriek of pain is a cacophony of discordant notes. The dragon falls forward, shy of the two students by a few blades of grass.

Sparky continues to scream, scraping his face across the cold, soft ground in an attempt to relieve the pain in its eyes, but Felix does not stop to watch further. He takes the hill in a few rapid strides and grabs Juniper's arm again as she stands frozen, watching the dragon writhing below. He manages to pull her forward a few steps, almost to the treeline, but Juniper struggles against his grip.

"We- can't- leave- him- here!" She emphasizes each word firmly, her voice loud but surprisingly calm. It infuriates him.

"Windsong!" Felix snarls at her, tightening his grip on her arm until he's sure it's painful. "That creature is not your pet, it's a dragon! It's dangerous and it does not care about you, and it's going to kill us-"

"Exactly!" Juniper interjects, trying desperately to prise his fingers from her. "We can't leave a dangerous, angry dragon loose on school grounds!" She speaks so rapidly he can barely understand her. "Even if by some miracle it doesn't hurt anyone, there's no way it isn't discovered now. And then we're sure to be expelled!"

Below them, they can hear the dragon stamping and roaring, still attempting to clear its vision.

"No one has to know it was us," argues Felix impatiently. "We run back to the castle. We never speak of this again!"

"Felix," Juniper says his name urgently. She ceases her struggling and, instead, reaches out to grab his other hand, squeezing gently, willing him to listen to her.

Felix's whole body stills, and the sounds of the dragon seem strangely faraway.

"We did this! If he hurts someone, Hagrid or Kettleburn or a student, or anyone else who tries to stop him, it'll be our fault. We have to stop him somehow. He's our responsibility!"

Below them, the dragon's screams turn from pain to rage. They can hear its claws scrape the earth of the hill as it attempts to climb blindly toward where they're standing. The renewed sense of danger breaks the spell Juniper's voice has created.

"You're mad,” Felix blurts out. "Completely mad."

He wrenches his hands out of hers.

"You want to stay here and be killed? Be my guest." Felix turns his back firmly on Juniper and the dragon and sprints into the dark trees.

"Felix!" He hears Juniper yell angrily after him, but he ignores her.

Felix takes a few steps into the forest, searching for the thickest clump of foliage he can find. He throws himself behind a tangle of willowy trees all intertwined and growing on top of each other, and sinks to the ground. Felix listens hard for the noise of the dragon, or Juniper, behind him, but the beating of his own heart in his ears makes everything around him sound muffled. He takes a deep breath, and then another, waiting for the panic to subside.

She'll come to her senses, he assures himself. She's not that stupid, she knows she can't battle a dragon on her own. Any second she'll come tearing through the trees.

Sparky's roars sound from close by, but not, Felix thinks, in the forest yet. The ground beneath him shakes very slightly with the dragon's furious, lumbering steps.

It can't see her, he tells himself. She'll get away.

But then Felix hears Juniper's voice, yelling "Flipendo!" and he groans aloud. Did she really just try to trip it? he thinks with a cringe.

There's another roar from the dragon and more stomping. Then a loud crack close by, and an ominous creaking. Felix leaps out from his hiding place, wand raised. A tree at the edge of the forest is swaying precariously, the dragon's powerful tail whipping away from it as it stalks back around.

Felix can't see Juniper, but he hears another cry of "Depulso!" and sees the dragon stumble back very slightly, as though pushed by a rough wind. But the spell is not powerful enough to actually blast Sparky off his feet. Instead, the dragon roars with fury and charges in the direction of Juniper's voice.

Felix can't believe what he's about to do. There are voices in his head screaming at him, but he pushes them away and focuses on the task at hand, the way he does best. He picks his spell decisively, and runs forward faster than he knew he could, aiming for the dragon's feet.

"Immobolus!" Felix shouts, putting all the power he can muster behind his jinx, all the force of will he has and some he was previously unaware of.

The dragon's clawed feet freeze up just as it takes a step, causing it to fall spectacularly to the ground and roll heavily down the hill, its tail whipping wildly behind it. The tail connects with something as it thrashes; there's a yelp, and a shadowy silhouette flies through the air much too quickly and hits the ground near the trees.

For one heart-stopping moment, Felix sees only a too-still body and forgets how to think, how to breathe... then he hears her groan. Felix exhales so forcefully he can feel pieces of his hair flutter where they've fallen against his face. He staggers over to Juniper as props herself into a sitting position.

"Are you alright?" Felix asks, his voice raw. He half bends down beside her, awkwardly, unsure how to help.

"Of course," Juniper says with obvious pain, clutching her side as she gets heavily to her feet. She's panting hard, covered in scratches, scrapes, and dirt. But when she turns her face to his, she's beaming. "I knew you wouldn't really leave."

It's a praise, not a taunt, but Felix is too focused to feel proud at the moment.

"We're not done yet. That jinx will wear off in a minute." He peers down the small hill to where the dragon lays winded, tiny notes of angry music erupting from it like someone striking a xylophone. "Or less."

"What can we do?" asks Juniper, reaching down to pick up her wand with a small grunt of effort, other hand still holding her side, "We'll do more damage if we cast together."

"Probably, but you don't know any spells powerful enough to incapacitate a dragon."

As they speak, Sparky starts to clamber to his feet clumsily, the last vestiges of the jinx still tugging at its limbs.

"Then let's try my original plan," Juniper says, her words nearly unintelligible under the dragon's renewed roars of frustration.

"What?" Felix asks, confused.

"Shrink it!"

Sparky shuffles around to face the direction of their voices, bloodshot eyes searching for them blearily.

Felix shakes his head slowly, "That's -"

"You have one second to think of a better idea."

He can't.

The dragon finally focuses on the two students and it shrieks its triumph and fury.

"On three then," Felix says raising his wand.

"On three," agrees Juniper raising her own, her face set grimly.

"One."

They chant together as the dragon takes a stumbling step forward.

"Two."

They take aim at the dragon's center mass.

"Three."

Sparky crouches, ready to spring, as Felix and Juniper cry out as one:

"Reducio!"

Chapter 6 | Masterpost

#felix rosier #felix rosier x mc #felix rosier x juniper windsong #felix rosier x jacob’s sibling #felix rosier fanfiction #hphm fanfiction #hogwarts mystery fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery mc #hphm mc #hphm #juniper windsong #jacob’s sibling #mc

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allisonswritingcorner · 5 years

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Challenge Days 1&2

I was super busy yesterday, so I’ve done 2k words today to make up for missing yesterday :) Characters belong to myself and @catherinewrites :D

This story isn't about my heroic deeds, some calamity I silenced, or even some woman I wooed. Frankly, this story isn't really about me at all. My name is Anton, and I've been on a few adventures in my time. It was twenty years ago when I first stepped foot on the path that would eventually lead me here.

I was born on the salty waves in a little fishing town far to the west of ____. My Ma always said I was born with the music of the ocean, and even my cries sounded like notes. My Pa would disagree. Whoever you believed, I grew up singing with them, ballads to bring in the salmon, a chorus to stay the sharks, and melodies to clear the skies. I always thought the songs must carry some magic in their key, but as I grew older, many others invited me along to sing with them as they sailed. It never rained while I was on deck, and I've never even seen a shark in my life.

At eighteen I started wondering if there was something to my luck, and saved my last pennies for my very own lute. It was old and worn, but I practiced for hours every night until I got even notes from the strings and I could tie together some kind of tune. The sailors, pirates, and tavern wenches always had a coin to spare at the end of the night, and we enjoyed many wonderful fishing seasons. But something was missing.

My missing piece found me one fateful evening in the form of a weather worn traveler at the front of the tavern. He watched me with a keen eye, and when I finished my performance, he beckoned me over. I took my complimentary tankard to his table and when he spoke, I suddenly understood the words my Ma had always used to describe me. His voice tumbled out in musical notes, though he clearly wasn't singing. "How long have you been performing?" He asked me.

"Professionally," I said as I took a theatrical swig of rum, "two years. But otherwise, Ma'll tell you I've been performing since birth." He chuckled.

"That, my boy, is clear. Tell me, how would you like to be a part of something bigger?" His voice took a conspiratorial tone as he tented his fingers in front of his face and looked at me expectantly.

I deliberated a moment over the rim of my mug and waited until I'd finished the rum off entirely before I answered. "Well, I'm certainly curious," I conceded.

"You, like so many before you, have a destiny, but it's not so flashy as you'll make it seem. Someday, somewhere, someone will need you. And you will be there for them, supporting them toward their destiny. You will never be a hero," he said solemnly, eyes piercing directly into my soul, "but you will be a part of something so much greater. A hero will not exist without you." I had so many questions, but he clearly had better places to be as he stood as soon as he finished talking. I rose to follow him, but he'd vanished as if by magic. There I stood, rooted to the spot, wondering just what he'd been talking of and why he'd disappeared, when I noticed something lay in the seat he'd vacated.

A well worn violin lay there, bow and all. I lifted it gingerly, afraid I might break it, and inspected the instrument. It had clearly seen many years of use, one of the strings needed replaced and the bow was threading badly. A long gash on it's back, from one end to the other, spoke of adventures as loudly as the mysterious man had. Strange as it sounds, this piece of wood and string sang to me, of wonder and adventure, of great deeds and incredible feats.

Much as I'd wanted to immediately take the bow to those strings, I knew it would only squeal in disapproval in its current state. I went to the peddler who'd sold me my lute and begged him to find some way to get it back into usable condition. He was clueless, a mere middleman, but directed me to the instrument's producer a town over.

I took my meager earnings and with them, my first step on what would become my new life. My new destiny.

This "Destiny", it would turn out, was tagging along on quests with other inexperienced teens to their inevitable doom that I would somehow survive, and then dragging myself to the nearest town to get myself patched up and, by some other miracle, weasel my way out of paying. After that, I found a slightly more experienced group of adventurers to follow, now with a few more songs and spells under my belt. The results were much the same. So much so that it became a routine.

Between the first band and now, I barely remember any of their names now. I learned over those years that the world is full of die hards, try hards, and blow hards, and dismally short of actual heroes. I'd just returned to a routine haunt after yet another horrifying disappointment a week before the real story starts. The tavern wenches all knew me, and the barkeep had my room at the ready when he learned I was in town.

On that stage, I sang as I always did, a few tunes that turned the room to merriment. They were all songs I'd learned elsewhere - I had been on no adventures worth relaying. This would be my life, I'd thought to myself as I drew the bow across strings that had become old friends over the last twenty years and let familiar words simply tumble from my lips. Honestly I didn't think I had another adventure in me. I knew I was getting old, becoming one of those has-been's whose glory days were long behind them. I'd expected so much more.

Feeling the melancholy tinge my words, I redirected my thoughts to perhaps something that might cheer me up. I scanned the faces at the tables, singling out any lovely young ladies that might turn my night around, if only the night. A lovely blonde in the front immediately caught my attention, entranced as she was in my performance. There was also a beautiful redhead leaning against the wall, looking all dangerous and exciting.

Neither gave me pause, however, like a young woman tucked away in the corner, dark hair spilling over her drawn shoulders, arms crossed on the table in front of her. She looked . . . tortured, haunted despite clearly looking quite young as well. She couldn't be over twenty, but when her green eyes rose to meet mine? I stumbled over my words for the first time since I was young. Something about her commanded all of my attention, and it took everything I had to finish the song I'd started. As I did, I took the violin from under my chin and bowed with my bow as I always did, and hopped off the stage. The barkeep shoved a tankard into my hand as I passed and I set a copper piece on the counter, asking for a warm cider as well. Armed with drinks and my good old bravado, I approached the corner of the tavern.

She seemed lost in her own world as I set the mug in front of her. Her eyes snapped up, wide and surprised as I sat across from her. "You looked like you could use a drink?" I started, tipping my own tankard toward her.

"I don't . . . drink," she said quietly, voice betraying perhaps a little more youth than I'd originally estimated.

"Fear not, my dear, it's cider, not ale." I took a swig of my own drink. "What's got you here in _____?" She didn't answer, instead more interested in the drink I'd brought her. She sniffed it curiously, suspiciously rather, then took a quick sip. It must have met her standards, as she immediately took a much bigger gulp after that. It took a lot of restraint not to laugh. "Are you from around here? I don't think I've ever seen you, though it's been a while since I've -"

"Listen," she interrupted, nearly slamming the tankard on the wooden table, "I don't know what you're after, but you won't find it here. I'm . . ." she trailed off. "I'm busy."

"Oh yes, busy," I chuckled, "sitting mysteriously in tavern corners all night?" She glared at me and I dropped her possible age down well below the twenty mark. This was a child I was talking to, and I felt her tug at some other part of me. "Are you on your own?"

"Yes, and I can handle myself just fine." She defiantly drank the rest of the cider and stood, turning sharply to leave. After a few steps, she paused and half turned around. "Thank you for the cider." But I was distracted by how . . . small she was. A full two heads shorter than most of the other patrons, and some intrinsic instinct in me pulled me to my own feet and out the door after her.

"Wait," I called, jogging a little to catch up. "Please." She stopped in her tracks but didn't turn around. I caught up and circled around her. "You must be after something, right? You look like someone searching for an answer." She broke eye contact, gaze falling to our feet.

"Why do you care?" She was defensive, well guarded.

"Everyone always tells me I'm too nosy for my own good," I joked. It fell flat, so I decided to take a more sincere route. "You're clearly young. Even if it's some simple task, you shouldn't be alone in places like this. Especially with a pretty face. Someone will nab you in a heartbeat."

"They'd regret touching me." I rolled my eyes. Was this why everyone complained about teenagers?

"Let me help? I have connections, experience, and the means to get you a room at the inn." She looked ready to deny me the same as she'd been doing all evening, when a gargling sound caught both of our attention. "Meals included." With a scowl, she crossed her arms over her traitorous belly.

"You'll get hurt. Probably die."

"Quit being so dramatic, that's my job. I've been through about two of your lifetimes. I think I'll be okay." I led her back toward the tavern. "What's your name?"

"Siren."

It was definitely a fake name, but I decided poking her anymore tonight was probably a bad idea. I requested another room and full dinner prepared, and the barkeep looked at me with confusion that I quickly dispelled with a gesture to my young new companion. He handed over a key that she took gingerly, making sure to keep from touching his fingers.

Her room was a number up from mine, so just passed my door. I bid her goodnight and heard nothing after save the wench that brought her dinner up from the kitchen. I had no idea what the next morning would bring, so I resigned myself to waking up before the sun.

When I woke, it was still dark out my window. I packed up my few belongings in my satchel and set off down the stairs. Siren was nowhere to be found in the dining room and I sighed, wondering if I'd been duped out of a room and food. Soft steps behind me denied this as I turned to see her not far behind me. There were dark circles under her eyes and she looked even grumpier than she had last night. Clearly not a morning person.

"Where are we headed?" I asked.

"There's someone I need to talk to," she mumbled.

"Lead the way," I gestured in front of us. "Who is this someone?"

"He has information I need." Like pulling teeth. I concluded I'd spend much of our time together knowing absolutely nothing. Well, it couldn't be worse than being dragged into some deep cavern full of horrifying monsters just because someone sniffed out gold. She did lead, carefully, if a bit clumsily, weaving between people and not touching a soul.

-TBC-

#original story #original characters #alicatwritingchallenge

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chorusfm · 6 years

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In the Spotlight: 50 Bands You Need to Hear in 2018

Last year we brought back, and re-branded, one of my favorite features from the AbsolutePunk days: the “Absolute 100.” And as we enter May and the weather finally starts to turn around a little bit, it’s the perfect time to once again team up with our contributors to bring you a whole bunch of new music to check out. Just like years past we’ve compiled a list of 50 artists we think are worth your time. Some of the artists recently released their debut albums and some have been around for a while now but have flown under the radar. However, the one thing they all have in common is that we think they should be in the spotlight and are worthy of your ears. You’ll find the first group of 25, along with blurbs, recommended songs, and sounds like comparisons, below. Liis by Anna Acosta Up-and-coming dark-pop duo Liis may have started with busking and acoustic coffee shops, but the end creation between dual vocalist/guitarists Lisa Haagen and Dana Cargioli is anything but simplistic – or even acoustic. The independent release duo’s debut EP Put It On; Show It Off (to be released May 12, 2018) is a beautiful tapestry of haunting melodies and wistful, starkly honest lyrics that manage to never once lose their poetic feel. Sleep on this group at your own risk – they’ve got nowhere to go but up. Recommended Track: “Thief” RIYL: Daughter, Julien Baker, Lydia Florrie by Jason Tate I can’t think of a single artist I’m more excited to finally get a full-length album from than Florrie. She’s released a variety of EPs and single songs since around 2010, with the last coming a couple years ago. However, it looks like this is the year we’re getting more music and that rockets my anticipation up to a whole new level. Florrie’s music takes a few different forms but it’s almost always catchy and perfect for a summer day. I see sparks of Charlie XCX, Little Boots, and even a little Carly Rae Jepsen in there, but it’s the energy and creative diversity in her work that makes me think she has something really special in her. Recommended Track: “Real Love” RIYL: Little Boots, Dragonette, Foxes Ruston Kelly by Craig Manning Ruston Kelly is probably best known at this moment-in-time as Kacey Musgraves’ husband. 2018 feels destined to be Kelly’s year, though, so don’t be surprised if you’re reading a lot about him by December. Kelly has already racked up songwriting credits for country artists like Tim McGraw and Josh Abbott Band, and he recently scored some rock ‘n’ roll cred by opening for Brian Fallon on the Sleepwalkers tour. The time is ripe for Kelly to release his proper debut album, which should be out later this year on his new label, Rounder Records. Expect the album to build upon the foundations Kelly established on 2016’s Halloween, a stellar EP that sounded like a lost document from Ryan Adams’ ultra-prolific mid-2000s period. Just like Adams, Kelly is the kind of artist that could comfortably be classified as country, rock, or folk. In other words, he’s got the kind of universal appeal that not a lot of his Nashville contemporaries can’t match. That factor should set him up for big success whenever his new record does hit the streets. Recommended Track: “Black Magic” RIYL: Ryan Adams, Brian Fallon, Afraid of Ghosts-era Butch Walker Cecil Frena by Mary Varvaris A few months ago, I stumbled upon my favorite song of 2018 so far. That song is called “All Of My Heroes”, from the stunning, eclectic album The Gridlock by Edmonton artist Cecil Frena (previously known under the monikers Gobble Gobble and Born Gold). “All Of My Heroes” is the ultimate pop-rock song – it’s anthemic, and Frena utilizes cool distorted guitar, synths, and most importantly: his fantastic voice. Throughout The Gridlock’s 43 minutes, Cecil Frena never takes himself too seriously. There’s a distinct element of dark humor framing self-deprecating lyrics, but the melodies mostly remain upbeat. There’s a range of styles on display throughout this album, it’s almost too difficult to keep up. Take the raucous punk track “Unknow Yourself” where Frena is furious, and his words are scathing. Later, there’s the tongue-in-cheek “I Believe In Dancing”. “I Believe In Dancing” is the only acoustic-led track on The Gridlock, and it’s gorgeous and fantastic. Then, see him try balladry with the lovely piano-led “Hyphen”. But, The Gridlock doesn’t end on an optimistic note. Album closer “Human Math” is a dynamic, shattering song to end the record with. “Human Math” begins so gently, with quiet and mournful keys, and Frena’s hushed vocals before an urgent climax brought by intense, rollicking guitars; which complement crushing words that deal with an impending personal loss (“and it’s not your fault the coffin waits”). Cecil Frena doesn’t take the easy way out, and isn’t afraid to make music that asks questions without answers or happy endings. It’s real. It’s human. It’s also one of the coolest albums I’ve heard in a long time. The Gridlock might be the best, but also the most overlooked album by the end of the year. I desperately hope this isn’t the case, because Cecil Frena can and should be one of the biggest stars in indie rock. Recommended Track: “All Of My Heroes” RIYL: Born Gold, Quiet Friend, Long Neck The Penske File by Jason Tate Over the past few years my ears haven’t been as perked up by the gravely voiced singer over loud guitars thing. Yet, I find there to be something captivating by The Penske File’s recently released album, Salvation. It’s not really that they’re doing anything new, but their spin on this sound calls to me anyway. There’s some really good stuff in here. Recommended Track: “Spin My History” RIYL: Spanish Love Songs, Youth Decay, Red City Radio No Thank You by Drew Beringer Philly is the scene that just keeps on giving. The latest and greatest to emerge from the City of Brotherly Love is the incredible trio No Thank You. While the band’s debut Jump Ship was a solid albeit brief introduction to their brand of emo-tinged rock and roll, 2018’s All It Takes To Ruin It All is one of the genre’s better sophomore releases in recent memory. The record ultimately revolves around the passing of singer Kaytee Della Monica’s father and how she’s navigating through this loss. The band sounds more confident on record two – ping-ponging sonically from the likes of Rilo Kiley to The Get Up Kids – while Della Monica struggles to find the balance within the freshly introduced pain and grief into her world. All It Takes To Ruin It All is a brisk yet heavy record that’ll wring your emotions through the gauntlet, cementing No Thank You as one of the bands you absolutely cannot miss out on in 2018. Recommended Track: “New England Patriots” SeeYouSpaceCowboy by Zac Djamoos You could listen to SeeYouSpaceCowboy’s entire fifteen-song discography in just about as many minutes, and it’ll still be the fifteen most exhilarating minutes of your day. The band features members of screamo and grindcore heavyweights Flowers Taped to Pens and Letters to Catalonia, and it shows. Their grindy Fashion Statements of the Socially Aware EP is some of the most punishing metalcore I’ve heard in a long time – I fell out with metalcore years ago when Risecore became the dominant style. But if there’s any band I believe can revitalize the genre, it’s SeeYouSpaceCowboy. Recommended Track: “Jimmy Buffet Doesn’t Even Surf” RIYL: Daughters, Blood Brothers, Botch Caroline Rose by Aaron Mook Caroline Rose is the kind of eclectic songwriter that only comes along once or twice a year, and Loner is the unexpected debut that very well may end up on everyone’s EOTY lists. Her personality is on full display in her music, which hops from genre to genre over the span of a mere 11 tracks and 34 minutes. One moment, she’s mimicking the dream-like textures of Beach House and the next, she’s recreating Haim’s vintage vocal melodies – sometimes, all within the same song (“Getting To Me”). From the Phoenix-inspired synth-pop of “Jeannie Becomes a Mom” to the Modest Mouse guitar work of “To Die Today,” Loner is irresistible, that rare record that truly has something for everyone. In her own words, she’s got soul. Recommended Track: “To Die Today” Mammoth Grinder by Jake Jenkins When multi-instrumentalist Chris Ulsh isn’t busy behind the kit with modern day thrash metal titans Power Trip, he’s taking the helm in Mammoth Grinder, an old school death metal band that also features members of Iron Reagan. Like Power Trip, Mammoth Grinder’s particular brand of metal pulses with hints of hardcore punk, staying true to the raw and primal roots of the genre. On their latest full length, this year’s Cosmic Crypt, Ulsh has moved from guitars to bass, but the band’s guttural and intense bursts of death metal are still fully intact. Clocking in at just under half an hour, Cosmic Crypt is a quick, brutal assault that should please both new school and old school fans of death metal. Recommended Track: “Blazing Burst” RIYL: Power Trip, Genocide Pact Paperwhite by Jason Tate I’ve been a sucker for groovy-synthy pop-music over the past few years and Paperwhite have that in spades. So far this Brooklyn duo have released a couple EPs and a few singles and should have a new EP out later this year. Their pulsating tracks sparkle behind Katie Marshall’s vocals and they have an undeniable ability to shine in the uptempo and somber dream-pop. Recommended Track: “Unstoppable” RIYL: Great Good Fine OK, Say Lou Lou, Ryn Weaver Holy Fawn by Trevor Graham Holy Fawn may have emerged from the desert, but their brand of spacey post rock is nothing short of otherworldly. Crafting dreamy, oceanic atmospheres with each track, this Arizona-based quartet blends influences from the finest in experimental rock and shoegaze with an undeniably palpable energy that’ll leave you emotionally winded. 2015 saw the release of their debut EP, REALMS — a vehicle for introducing their broad dynamic range, deliberately set to satisfy head-trippers and head-bangers alike. Their visceral knack for layering sound shines brightly through a familiar formula that Holy Fawn have mastered the art of frequently concocting: start quiet, then get loud. Like, really, really, tremendously loud. I hate to use the word “epic” here, but… this band brings the capital E. Amidst their stormlike compositions, vocalist Ryan Osterman pours velvet falsetto whispers, hushed and reverberated just enough to somehow both stand out and blend in at once. Their latest single, “Arrows”, features a dizzying array of shimmering, cavernous guitar loops, eventually delivering the listener to the group’s fiercest display of cacophony yet. It comes from their forthcoming Whelmed Records debut, which the band aims to release in late 2018. Recommended Track: “Arrows” RIYL: Gates, O’Brother, Sigur Ros American Aquarium by Craig Manning In the Americana world, American Aquarium tends to be a pretty well-known and well-respected enterprise. If you don’t venture down that musical avenue much, though, then I’d wager you’ve never heard of these boys from North Carolina. Ever since 2006, this band has been quietly cultivating one of the most solid discographies in roots music. In 2012, they brought in Jason Isbell to produce their LP Burn. Flicker. Die., a record they intended to be their swansong. Six years later, they’re still trucking—though frontman BJ Barham recently had to reboot the band with new players. No matter: the band’s newest record—the forthcoming Things Change—is arguably their most fully realized to date. Starting with a song about the day Trump got elected president (the fittingly titled “The World Is on Fire”), Things Change is in turns political and deeply personal. The wistful “When We Were Younger Men,” for instance, charts the pains of growing up and the fluctuations of friendships to the sound of Tom Petty hits. The record as a whole is a reminder of what makes these guys special: they can be introspective, incendiary, personal, or political. Recommended Track: “The World Is on Fire” RIYL: Drive-By Truckers, Whiskeytown, Jason Isbell Pale Houses by Deanna Chapman The latest music from Pale Houses landed in my inbox and in typical fashion, it took me a while to get to it. Once I did, though, I was thoroughly impressed with the band’s sound. If you’re looking for new indie pop to listen to, these are your guys. Song of the Isolation is their new EP and all six songs keep you engaged with the music. I’ll be keeping an eye on this band going forward because they’re one of the pleasant surprises of 2018 for me. Recommended Track: “Tenderfoot” RIYL: Death Cab For Cutie, Bon Iver, Bleachers Wild Pink by Drew Beringer It’s only been a little over a year since Wild Pink released their criminally underrated Tiny Engines self-titled debut but that didn’t stop the New York City trio from expanding their introspective yet sensitive indie-rock sound on their upcoming second album, Yolk In The Fur, this July. The first single, “Lake Eerie,” leans even further into the spacious soundscapes created by lead person John Ross. Clocking in just over five minutes, it’s just a taste of the leap the band has made from album one into their sophomore effort. Let’s just all promise each other that Wild Pink dominates our speakers all summer into the fall. Recommended Track: “Lake Eerie” Spielbergs by Jason Tate Spielbergs released their debut EP, Distant Star, last week (April 27, 2018) and it is full of sing-a-long choruses that just beg to be shouted in sweaty nightclubs. They are a band and sound that feels almost instantly recognizable and familiar, but when performed with such gusto are still undeniably addicting. Recommended Track: “We Are All Going to Die” RIYL: The Japandroids, Latterman Nora Rothman by Anna Acosta It’s said that the simplest things in life can be the sweetest, and that ethos has never been embodied the way it is in singer-songwriter Nora Rothman. Embodied by a certain ethereal quality that’s difficult to fabricate, there is very little outside from a sweet, lilting vocal and a lightly plucked ukulele to distract from Rothman’s straightforward, heartfelt storytelling. And there’s nothing like taking one’s craft and applying it to a cause: this spring Rothman’s self-titled EP (released summer 2017) was remixed by five separate female producers (Birch, Ah-Mer-Ah-Su, QRTR, Suzi Analogue, and Libra Rising, respectively) and re-released via Electric Bird Records as a fundraising initiative for Planned Parenthood. Recommended Track: “Strange” RIYL: Phoebe Bridgers, Sufjan Stevens, Sarah McLachlan Middle Kids by Adam Grundy Middle Kids are not your average indie rock band. Typically a band with this type of following would have been expected to have played multiple shows before being noticed for a record contract. Not the case here, as this Australian 3-piece band released their first single in 2016 without having played a single show. Singer/songwriter Hannah Joy found limited success by self-releasing songs via Bandcamp, but she finally got her big break when Elton John endorsed Middle Kids. Their music can be best described as upbeat, classic sounding, pop-rock built for audiences as close knit as the club scene yet polished enough for arenas. Check out their debut LP Lost Friends on May 4th via Domino Records. Recommended Track: “Mistake” RIYL: Fleetwood Mac, Smallpools, Gang of Youths Hop Along by Mary Varvaris Hop Along is an American indie rock band from Philadelphia, PA. Their latest album Bark Your Head Off, Dog can be effectively summed up in its album opener “How Simple”. When I watch the music video, I’m unsure if Frances Quinlan is poking fun at herself while reflecting on the unpleasant things about falling in love: “how simple my heart can be frightens me” or if she mourns for relationships that don’t end up working: “don’t worry, we will both find out / just not together”. Quinlan’s lyrics are straightforward in their honesty here, but elsewhere, her lyrics fall in the abstract with religious imagery and references to World War I (see: “One That Suits Me”). Frances Quinlan’s voice is indescribable. She howls, croons, screams, and yelps, her voice cracks – she gives everything when she sings. Bark Your Head Off, Dog is full of wacky, memorable instrumentation – “Somewhere A Judge” is groovy, and Quinlan briefly uses a vocoder towards the end of the song. “The Fox In Motion” is full of unforgettable indie rock riffs. “Prior Things” is lead by optimistic, beautiful strings. There’s a harp and strings in the outstanding “Not Abel”. “Not Abel” starts as a fascinating little folk ballad, combining gentle picking on the acoustic guitar with a harp. “Not Abel” feels like a revelation. Quinlan references the story of Cain and Abel, and for the last minute and 36 seconds, “Not Abel” becomes an anthem. Before then, though, she channels her anger at the men who affected her self worth and confidence, contemplating how it’s “strange to be shaped by such strange men”. Bark Your Head Off, Dog is a refined and cohesive effort, taking all the elements of Hop Along’s previous album Painted Shut, and expands on them. Hop Along give every song room to breathe, and develop a warm, spacious atmosphere. The instrumentation is creative and experimental. Bark Your Head Off, Dog will end up being one of the best, most ambitious indie rock albums of the year. Recommended Track “How Simple” RIYL: Modest Mouse, Joanna Newsom Soccer Mommy by Jason Tate You can choose to get caught up on the band name if you want, but if you do, you’ll be missing out on one of the more exciting voices in music right now. Soccer Mommy is the brainchild of Sophie Allison and her latest studio album, Clean, was released earlier this year. The music has a breezy angst to it that walks between this folksy-grunge sound and soft acoustic ballads. It seems perfectly tailored to be performed in a bedroom alone, sung to a few empty beer cans and tired eyes, or belted on stage to a room that will soon be learning every word. Recommended Track: “Your Dog” RIYL: Alvvays, Anna Burch, Liz Phair Travis Meadows by Craig Manning Invoking the spirit of the great Bruce Springsteen has become an increasingly trendy thing for songwriters to do in the past decade. In songs by The Gaslight Anthem, Titus Andronicus, Eric Church, and more, Bruce has been elevated to the status of rock ‘n’ roll’s patron saint. Still, there might not be a song that captures what it’s like to hear a Springsteen song in the car on a weekend summer night better than “Pray for Jungleland.” The song, a core cut from Travis Meadows’ 2017 album First Cigarette, is a wistful look back at the days before iPods or Spotify (or car CD players, for that matter) where your only option was to wait around to hear your favorite song on the radio. Meadows takes that idea and turns it into a song that feels as alive and full of possibility as any summer evening you’ve ever witnessed. Elsewhere on the record, he takes you to the deepest depths of human regret and hopelessness, purging his own struggles with alcoholism in songs that hurt like bruises. Suffice to say there’s a lot of darkness in Meadows’ music. Songs like “Sideways” and “First Cigarette” feel like they exist on a brink, one step away from giving up or giving in. But it’s songs like “Pray for Jungleland” or “Pontiac” that make First Cigarette a masterpiece, because they shine a light through the darkness and make it shine. Recommended Track: “Pray for Jungleland” RIYL: Bruce Springsteen, Tom Waits, Eric Church We Were Sharks by Adam Grundy Victory Records’ latest prized possession is We Were Sharks, whose crunchy guitar riffs and New Found Glory-esque pop hooks have certainly gained listeners’ attention. This 6-piece post hardcore band from Ottawa, Canada are poised for a big 2018 with the release of Lost Touch (February 23, 2018), which happens to be their second album, and was produced by Silverstein guitarist, Paul Marc Rousseau. Recommended Track: “Hotel Beds” RIYL: A Day To Remember, Silverstein, Four Year Strong Author by Trevor Graham These Minnesota natives released a debut full length in 2015 that straight up stole my heart. Channelling the wintery ambience of indie darlings like Copeland, Of Brighter Days was the sound of a band exerting themselves on all fronts. The sense of melody, rhythm, instrumentation, lyricism — it was all there. Three years later, the band has released their new album, IIFOIIC — an acronym for the enthralling title track, “Is It Far Or Is It Close?”. The song, like many others in their discography, features haunting falsettos and soaring harmonies, glitchy electronic flourishes, trippy delayed guitar leads, and a powerhouse rhythm section. Their ability to bounce energy off of one another is unmatched in this scene, as they work like tiny parts of a well-oiled machine to push each other to the next level. At other points in the record, Author kick up the tempo to show off some of their most kaleidoscopic arrangements to date (looking at you, “Want”), where you may have trouble deciding whether to air drum or air guitar. Pro-tip: you’ll have time for the one you didn’t pick when you hit replay — you’ll want to hear that vocal hook again anyway. This is most certainly music made to soundtrack the leaves changing color, but don’t let that allow you to sleep on this fantastic band. Recommended Track: “Is It Far or Is It Close” RIYL: Copeland, From Indian Lakes, Valise, Mutemath The Night Game by Jason Tate Martin Johnson is an annoying good songwriter. Look, you can have your qualms with Boys Like Girls, but there’s no denying the earworms this asshole can write. His latest project has only released a handful of songs, but already they’ve run the gamut from 80’s nostalgia (“The Outfield”) to destined for pop radio (“Bad Girls Don’t Cry”). It’s nice to see Martin flex his songwriting chops and as he aims for a summer release with this project, I wouldn’t be surprised to see him once again with songs on the tips of everyone’s tongue. Recommended Track: “The Outfield” RIYL: The 1975, LANY I Don’t Know How but They Found Me by Adam Grundy This dynamic duo is comprised of ex-Panic! at the Disco bassist, Dallon Weekes and ex-Falling in Reverse drummer Ryan Seaman. These recent “cast offs” shouldn’t be written off yet as they plan to release an album filled with synth pop reminiscent of the 80’s. Recommended Track: “Choke” RIYL: Tears For Fears, Elvis Costello, Orgy Caitlyn Smith by Craig Manning If there were any justice, Caitlyn Smith would be the biggest star in modern country music. I don’t care whether you listen to country music or not: Smith’s debut album, this year’s Starfire, will knock you on your ass. The first time I heard her sing, it reminded me of the first time I heard Chris Stapleton. They both have these big, epic voices—voices so good you can’t believe they stayed secret for so long. It’s the kind of voice that can send shivers down your spine with a climactic key change (“Tacoma”) or leave your jaw on the floor with a theatrical torch song (“East Side Restaurant”). But Caitlyn Smith isn’t just The Voice-style good. On the contrary, she’s also a dynamite writer, someone who can silence a room with the sharpness of her pen just as much as she can with the hugeness of her voice. On “Scenes from a Corner Booth at Closing Time on a Tuesday,” she turns vignettes about nameless characters into a tongue-in-cheek treatise on modern loneliness, and on “This Town Is Killing Me,” she poignantly illustrates just how much it costs to chase a dream. If you listen to my recommendation once ever, make it this one. Recommended Track: “Tacoma” RIYL: Chris Stapleton, Maren Morris, Taylor Swift Part Two will be released tomorrow and a playlist of all the recommended songs will be coming on Friday. If you missed it last year, you can check out 2017’s feature here. --- Please consider supporting us so we can keep bringing you stories like this one. ◎ https://chorus.fm/features/in-the-spotlight-50-bands-you-need-to-hear-in-2018-part-one/

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stevenvenn · 6 years

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Steven's Nifty 50 of 2017 - #30 - #21

Here are my favourite albums 30 - 21 (of 50). These are in no particular order just how I saw them relating to each other. Doing a true countdown would be too nerve-wracking. You can listen to my favourite cuts from each of the albums on Spotify and watch them on YouTube (links below). You can also read my thoughts on the albums below the links broken into 5 posts counting down by 10s. Enjoy and feel free to comment.

Spotify playlist:

https://open.spotify.com/user/stevenvenn/playlist/7qSpcgdwXuoLtIStRQeRto?si=Je3qbALHQUCqgEkiBMsCtg

YouTube playlist:

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLqUMf7mP_mnMOmDl94VCPIJPFliPf62a5

NOTES

21. Timber Timbre – Sincerely, Future Pollution (Arts & Crafts)

Over the course of 4 albums Timber Timbre has been the canvas for Taylor Kirk to experiment with gloomy, southern gothic folk, blues and indie rock that feel as much Flannery O’Connor as a rocking sermon delivered by Nick Cave. That spirit is still there in tracks like “Sewer Blues” with its mix of ghostly meets John Carpenter. But here on the newest effort from the Toronto band, they’ve shown that they can also gradually transform into a funky but spooky 70s band a la Alan Parsons Project and even have nods to the brilliance of crooner Bryan Ferry (especially on the opening track “Velvet Gloves and Spit”) without it seeming out of place or character. This is the dark side of the lounge where the scary characters are drinking mai tais. There’s also a kinship with Canadian legend Leonard Cohen’s “I’m Your Man” era in these songs with Kirk’s speak-song style and the song’s 80s synthy sheen. There’s a scary ghost in the machine here and he needs to get out.

22. Cigarettes After Sex – s/t (Partisan Records)

Lethargic, hazy, placid, languid, dreamy. All good descriptors of the debut from Brooklyn’s Cigarettes After Sex which was almost a decade in the delivery (fittingly for the pace of this band). The debut is a collection of songs performed at one slow and steady pace but they do it incredibly well and really know their sound and more importantly its mood. The sleepy and seductive voice of Greg Gonzales compliments the slowly strummed reverby guitar and “barely there” percussion that is akin to other hypnotic Nyquil-paced bands like Mazzy Star (if they were fronted by Rhye's Mike Milosh instead of Hope Sandoval) or the gentle grace of Mojave 3. There’s a distinct wistful romanticism with a touch of melancholy to Gonzales’ songs framed by the band’s gauzy dream pop arrangements that make the album seem more like collection of chapters about the dangers and challenges of love and loss in the same intimate book.

23. Aldous Harding – Party (4AD)

At turns quiet, singing with a voice that is hushed and at other instances operatic and coldly chilling as Nico, New Zealand’s Aldous Harding’s second album is an incredible triumph. She describes her work as “gothic folk” and that’s a good way to describe the feeling of her album. There’s a witchy darkness underneath all the pastoral piano and finger-picked guitar. The real star of course is Harding’s voice that has incredible ranges that soar throughout the fabric of the album, at times whispery and at other times mercurial. The arrangements especially, albeit minimal even downright spartan, are truly magical as well and a great complement to the low-key vibe of Harding’s songwriting.

24. Julie Byrne – Not Even Happiness (Ba Da Bing Records)

At the outset of her excellent folk album, Julie Byrne entices the listener with the opener “Follow My Voice” and follow her we do. This gentle and dreamy work is built on the sleepy and melancholic voice of Byrne first and foremost, and her delicately picked acoustic guitar. Byrne is a songwriter exposing her true nature and emotions in a very naked and poignant manner. There is a playfulness as well to her guitar work that reminds me of John Fahey’s better moments at times. Solitude seems to be the goal here that Byrne is reaching for. We get that lovely feeling that one can have at a sunrise when the colours and sounds seem made solely for us in an intimate and independent way.

25. Nev Cottee – Broken Flowers (Wonderfulsound)

Northern England seems to be the place for incredible crooners with deep and sonorous voices that have seen a wee bit o’ life. There’s the timeless Sheffield singer-songwriter Richard Hawley who comes to mind. Add to this the gravel-voiced beauty of Manchester’s Nev Cottee who on album #3 possesses that well-worn patina that made a lot of Lee Hazelwood’s albums so great in his heyday. Broken Flowers (a title taken from the Jarmusch movie perhaps) is a good title for an album of country and psychedelic-tinged songs that would be suitable for a man who is a little past his prime. He’s coming to terms with life as it is, with mistakes and regrets all adding to the present character. Life is not easy but it can be managed and present itself as a lovely melancholic portrait if you are willing to accept and move forward without a lot of unreasonable expectation.

26. The Weather Station – s/t (Paradise of Bachelors)

The solo project of Toronto folk singer-songwriter Tara Lindemann, Weather Station has always been a pure and precise exploration of the folk traditions started by Joni Mitchell (who vocally Lindemann most resembles) and Rickie-Lee Jones. One acoustic guitar and one amazing voice is the true heart of any Weather Station song that is expanded out with the touches of electric guitar, mandolin, rock drumming, and chamber strings. Above all the beautiful prairie rock arrangements is Lindemann’s voice that just cuts through with its nostalgic documentation of bygone moments. Like looking through an album of old photos, forever locked in time.

27. Aimee Mann – Mental Illness (Superego)

Possibly Mann’s most accomplished release thus far, Mental Illness isn’t so much about one person coming to grips with her own emotional challenges as much as telling the story of broken people who have to contend with everyday efforts to keep their heads above water. Mann is not apologetic in some instances about how mental illness can confound those around the sufferer as well. There’s a sense of drama and the cinematic but on a small and intimate scale that once again demonstrates why she was an excellent choice to cover Nilsson on the soundtrack for Paul Thomas Anderson’s Magnolia film. There’s a real sense of craft and skill in Mann’s compositions and songwriting that few can match, and she always reminds me of short story writer Raymond Carver in her songs.

28. Julien Baker – Turn Out the Lights (Matador)

The sophomore release of Tennessee’s Julien Baker is a lot more layered, piano-driven and orchestral affair this time around, much bigger than her debut Broken Ankle both in the music and in her singing range. She can go from simple whispers along with picked electric guitar to ferocious climaxes of voice on many of these songs. Each song on the album is a document of coming to grips with living with mental illness and having your faith tested. Julien Baker has always been a sensitive and raw singer but here you not only hear the sadness in her voice but can feel it in your bones as it builds on songs like “Appointments.” But there’s never a feeling of glorifying the darkness and wallowing in it just an acceptance that it will always be there and trying to come to exist alongside it.

29. Daughter – Music From Before The Storm (Glassnote)

London trio Daughter have always created darkly emotional and cinematic music so it’s no surprise that in 2017 they were asked to provide the soundtrack for an episodic adventure video game called Before the Storm which is part of the Life Is Strange series. It’s an adventure where the player assumes control of sixteen-year-old Chloe Price who, along with schoolmate Rachel Amber, get up to some teenage mayhem including ditching school, arson, and underage drinking. So angst, invincibility, tenderness, and anger are some of the emotions that are mirrored by Daughter’s incredible score. The album is not just a collection of musical cues but an integrated part of the game.

30. Slowdive – s/t (Dead Oceans)

What can I say when one of my favourite bands from the shoegazer era finally decide to reform after a 20 year hiatus and record a reunion album that is by far one of their best efforts ever? There’s been some incredible growth in musical ability and songwriting for Neil Halstead and Rachel Goswell who formed Mojave 3 following the dissolving of the original Slowdive. Halstead would also go on to record some beautiful folk-styled solo albums. Meanwhile drummer Simon Scott collaborated with Fennesz and also became a skillful ambient musician in his own right. With the regrouping there is a definitive new found strength to Slowdive from all of these various pursuits that are informing their new material. The sound is still dream-poppy but there’s a distinct confidence, maturity, and sophistication now that was missing somewhat on their earlier records.

#nifty50of2017 #stevenvenn #bestof2017 #music

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someguyranting1 · 6 years

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What’s in a Scene? How SAO Became the Worst Anime Ever

Sword Art Online is ass. OP to ED and everything in between, the whole thing stinks and I hate it. But I didn’t always. As a matter of fact, when the series first started airing, I thought, “This is okay. I mean, I’ve seen better, but I’ve seen worse, too. I’ll see where this goes.” Somewhere between that and this, though, that stopped being my response to the show. At a certain point, I could no longer form words and was mostly just vomiting blood for the duration of each episode. And I’m not alone in that. Pretty much everyone over the age of 12 agrees that this show sucks.

What they don’t agree on is WHEN it started sucking. When did Sword Art Online get terrible? Some would say it happened when they locked the only likeable character in a rape dungeon and made Kirito’s sister want to fuck him. Others would point to the gratuitous tentacle rape scene, and boy, gee whiz, there sure is an excessive amount of sexual assault in this show. Then there’s the “I told you so” camp who say it was terrible all along and all of the bullshit just made you realize that after the fact.

For me, there’s a precise moment when Sword Art Online goes from being okay to being one of the worst fucking shows ever, and it’s all Yui’s fault. Yeah, you heard me: your innocent daughteru ruined fucking everything. Let me explain.

In the beginning, Sword Art Online had some stuff going for it. Not a lot (the fight choreography was always pretty bad, the cast was always bland, and the premise was never original), but it had a solid sense of tone. We’d seen “trapped in an MMO” stories before, but never with this kind of horror tinge to them. The world of Aincrad had this oppressive air hanging over it. From very early on, there was this sense that just about anyone could die at any moment. The first few episodes do a great job of establishing that. And while it didn’t break any new ground in terms of character writing, it had some good stand-alone episode plots, like the one where all of Kirito’s friends got murdered, and the whole murder mystery thing where they’re trying to figure out how somebody was breaking the rules of the game, and… Actually, those were the only really interesting episodes, but hey, lots of okay show have had less.

The main thing that the show had going for it early on was that underlying sense of dread. It felt like something where nobody, except for this one guy, was ever really safe. Nobody important died after the first few episodes, but that was fine...for a while. If the show was kill-happy all the time, that would be a problem in itself. You’ve gotta pace these things. It’s hard to get attached when characters are going in and out through a revolving door.

Still, by Episode 10, there had been enough near misses that it seemed like Kirito and his harem might be a little too invulnerable. It seemed like the right time to kill someone off to raise the stakes. It’s at this point that they chose to introduce Yui.

If you don’t know (congratulations, you’ve saved yourself from a shitty show), Yui is a little girl who Kirito and Asuna find wandering around the woods near their home and decide to adopt as their daughter. She’s sweet and innocent and might as well be walking around with a timer counting down to her sad death. It’s cheap and lazy enough to introduce a pure cinnamon roll character purely for the sake of killing them off, but that’s not nearly bad enough writing on its own to drag this show down to the total dog shit territory it now occupies.

The bigger problem with this is tied to what Yui is. Yui is actually a fully-sentient AI, which means that she’s the only character in the entire cast who, if killed, could be brought back. And that’s very, very bad for the show because if Yui dies and is then brought back, that renders the threat of death from a narrative standpoint permanently meaningless.

Remember: as of this episode, that’s the ONLY interesting thing about SAO. Death in media isn’t interesting because, “Oh, they’re dead! That’s sad! I’m sad!” It’s interesting because it inherently changes the dynamics of a story. A character who was once a force in the narrative now ISN’T. Any arc that they might have been going through is cut abruptly short, and from this point forward, the writers can’t rely on their presence to move the story forward or build up other characters.

Most stories never pull that trigger, and I’m cool with that because, like I said, it’s hard to write around. I’m okay with a show being a little toothless as long as the story is engaging and the characters are fun. Also, there are plenty of ways to make your characters suffer without killing them off.

However, when a show acts like death means something and then does something that very transparently reveals that the writers aren’t willing to sacrifice potential plot lines, it’s like watching Mickey Mouse take his head off at Disneyland: it ruins the magic. There are RULES against this kind of shit. If a character dies and is then brought back, you might as well write, “And then they got on a bus for a couple of weeks,” for all the fucking difference it makes.

Obviously when the show was airing, I was really dreading this prospect. I was hoping that the show would pull something out of left field, maybe fake me out and kill Asuna or Kirito off, instead of do the stupid, obvious thing that it was definitely going to do. But then, I got to the end of Episode 12 and I watched Kirito and Asuna mourn for little baby Skynet, and it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.

IT WAS WORSE! They don’t just kill Yui off in the most trite way possible; they do it while immediately undercutting all of the dramatic weight of the moment because, as Yui is being deleted, Kirito pulls some techno wizardry out of his ass to store her in an inventory item. And because of that dumb dragon feather episode, we know that means she’s coming back. They could AT LEAST have left it ambiguous as to whether or not they could bring her back, but, “Nope! Can’t let anyone think their waifu might not come back! They might stop watching and giving us money!” However, even that isn’t the most asinine thing about this scene.

In this moment, as they reach the game master’s console in the depths of this dungeon, Kirito reveals the heretofore unknown fact that he’s a PhD-level programmer, thus irreparably ruining his character forever. Kirito was already stupidly overpowered, but at least it made a bit of sense. He was a beta tester, so his base skill level being higher than most other players’ was justified. Doing Kendo in real life gave him good reflexes. He also spent, like, the first year of the game solo queuing instead of socializing to reach his ridiculously high experience level. That became less believable as he also proved to be the most eligible bachelor on the entire Internet, but you can at least justify that as girls having a crush on him for saving their lives, rather than that coming down to any innate social skill on his part. It’s easy to justify a lot of things about Kirito because he has no defined personality at all. However, when you add to those traits the fact that he’s got the scripting skills to not just hack the game from inside it, but to custom-write code in the space of a few seconds to store data as an in-game object, I’ve gotta call bullshit.

Hacking games requires time and at least some knowledge of the source code. There’s no way Kirito has that. Even if the thousand or so carefully selected beta testers for SAO were data-mining the shit out of the game, they only had it for a little over a month during summer vacation and they only saw a fraction of the content. It would be hard to get a full picture of how the game works in that time frame under NORMAL circumstances, but SAO is also the first game of its kind, built from the ground up for incredibly complicated, brand-new proprietary hardware.

Already, Kirito’s doing something that nobody outside the company should know how to do, but even if we assume that there’s a command already in place to store a script as an in-game object, think about what he’s storing. Yui is a fucking AI, the most complicated kind of program conceivable. Her code needs to be immense to account for the broad variety of situations she might need to deal with, and it also needs to be capable of rewriting itself on the fly in real time. Kirito is taking that huge, complex code, saving its current state of operation, and converting that information into a custom item in a game whose script he must be figuring out in real time, all in the space of a few seconds. NO! NOT FUCKING POSSIBLE!

In this moment, Kirito ceases to be a real human being and I lose all suspension of disbelief for this entire show. It’s just not believable that any person could be capable of pulling off the shit that we’ve seen him do up to this point. Maybe some of it, but not all of it, and especially not A FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD FUCKING CHILD!

Also, as if he wasn’t special enough already, the scene establishes a few moments earlier that he and Asuna are the only people to ever experience love or joy in SAO during the entire two years that the game has been running. This is so fucking stupid, it hurts!

This scene amazes me for how thoroughly it manages to ruin the entire show. It would be bad enough to ruin the whole story by implicitly admitting that they never plan to kill off anyone who’s had any kind of character development ever again (unless dying is part of their story arc), but in doing so, they also manage to make it impossible to relate to their PROTAGONIST. From this point forward, the show has no dramatic stakes. It CAN’T have any. Kirito’s been established to be able to do basically anything, and we now know for a fact that no one important will ever really die.

Furthermore, if you want to nitpick, this scene raises a ton of questions, too, the big one being, “WHY?! Why is THAT what Kirito did with his backhand access?” If he had the time to isolate a huge, complex program and store it as environmental data and write a custom script to save that file to his personal computer, why didn’t he, I don’t know, globally reactivate the game’s logout function? He had access to the fucking source code! And that would’ve been a lot simpler! There was probably just one value he needed to set from True to False, or maybe a few lines of code that had been commented out. Comparatively speaking, it would have been easy, and he’d have been saving, I don’t know, upwards of, like, 7000 people’s lives? But no. Preserving his wife’s Tamagotchi is a lot more important than that.

There’s been a lot of complaining in this review and not a lot of hard analysis, but that’s because there’s not much in this scene to analyze. This is one of the most flat, boring scenes that I’ve ever watched in anything. Every shot is static and dull, especially the obvious, predictable reaction shots that it uses to ham-fistedly attempt to tug at your heartstrings. Furthermore, the set is a blank, white room with nothing going on. There’s basically nothing to even look at here. That said, if nothing else, I guess I can take solace in the fact that nobody was even trying when they made the scene that ruined the whole show.

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katykippen · 7 years

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Miscarriage: 8 Things You Can Do To Help

Here are 8 ways you can support someone experiencing a miscarriage. No crystal ball or mind-reading required.

In the wake of my recent miscarriage, it occurred to me how much more resilient I am since we lost our first pregnancy almost five years ago.

In 2012, I didn’t have the coping mechanisms I do now. I also didn’t know I had endometriosis, an inflammatory women’s disease, which explains why it’s been so hard to get pregnant and why my periods so often feel like I’m passing a bag of nails. It’s been a wild ride to say the least.

These days, I am incredibly grateful to have a small village* of people supporting me and my husband. After adopting an anti-inflammatory diet (bye bye gluten and dairy) my periods are pretty non-eventful (hello living)! But, even with a huge support network, it was terribly difficult to ask for help when I needed it during my miscarriage, especially when I was in so much physical and emotional pain.

When asked, “Do you need anything?”, my grief was too all-encompassing to say yes. It wasn’t that I didn’t want help. It wasn’t that I didn’t need help. But how could I possibly ask for what I needed when I could barely speak? After all, we’d been trying for FIVE YEARS.

Now that the pain of my miscarriage has lessened a bit, I decided to write a short list of things I would have appreciated when I was really down and out.

And because very few of us are mind-readers, I hope this list will help you help someone you love (trust me, if you do even ONE of these, she’ll think you’re full of magic and a pretty damn good human).**

1. COOK A MEAL (OR TWO)

Consider delivering groceries, takeout, a home-cooked meal or snacks. When your whole body aches you don’t have the strength to go to the store, let alone prepare a meal. Personally, I didn’t want to go to restaurants because I was prone to unpredictable fits of crying. Pressed for ideas, I emailed my naturopath who told me to concentrate on bone broth, soups, and stews (things that are gentle on the stomach) as well as iron-rich foods. I found this recipe for Bok Choy Miso Soup online and both my husband and I really liked it. Does she like chocolate? I’d never turn away Double Chocolate Zucchini Muffins, especially if they’re made with extra-dark Guittard chocolate chips (just sayin’)! And, even though beggars can’t be choosers, as a person with dietary restrictions I always appreciate when people ask me what I can and can’t eat.

2. TAKE THE KIDS (OR DOGS)

Miscarriage is a physically exhaustive process now matter what. But depending on how far along her pregnancy was, she may have also had surgery which is some next level sh*t. Needless to say, she needs sleep. Lots of it. Schedule a time to babysit her kid(s) or take her dog(s) for a few hours so she can get some rest. I guarantee she will be grateful.

3. MOVE TOGETHER

My acupuncturist suggested a light hike or slow jog would speed the healing process. At first, I didn’t think I had the energy for it. But once I got going I discovered light exercise helped me feel better mentally and physically. Gentle yoga felt wonderful, too. Suggest something. No matter what, I guarantee she will appreciate the company.

4. LAUGH TOGETHER

Laughter really can be the best medicine, so if she feels up for it, treat her to a hilarious movie in the theater or binge-watch reruns of Broad City at her place (don’t forget the popcorn and gummi bears)!

5. CLOTHE HER IN COMFORT

To this day when I wear the pajamas and socks my mother-in-law gave me after my first miscarriage (and later D&C) I am reminded of her kindness. Soft drawstring waists felt wonderful to my sore belly (my jeans felt like a corset)! If you’re not sure where to look for lounge pants and jammies, check out Gilligan and O'Malley at Target. They don’t last forever but they sure are comfortable!

6. GIVE HER WARMTH

Creature comforts really brought me peace in the days following my pregnancy loss. Consider gifting her some items for her self-care toolkit such as a heating pad and natural bubble bath (my favorite is this one) topped off with a new book or novel you think she’d like.

7. TREAT HER TO A MASSAGE

My whole body ached for weeks after my miscarriage, so when my doctor suggested a massage, I went for it. Since massages are often expensive, you might look on Groupon or Google ‘massage deals’ in your area. Or, you could go in on a gift with girlfriends.

8. DON’T BE A GHOST

As many as 20–25% of recognized pregnancies end in a miscarriage, which is a staggeringly large number. If you know someone who lost their baby, ask how she is doing. When she crosses your mind, reach out. Mail a heartfelt note. Send a quick text. Experiencing a miscarriage can be very isolating, especially if she is seeing pregnant bellies at the grocery store and strollers in her neighborhood. Bring up her loss. Say her baby’s name. And if she brings up her loss, please don’t change the subject. Just listen. You don’t need to offer solutions.

There is no finite end to grief. For me, it evolves, recedes and resurfaces. After my first miscarriage, I was a train wreck on Henry’s due date. Mother’s Day was (and is) the worst. Even my birthday is tinged with sadness because every year I am closer to being physically unable to conceive or carry a child.

Though I lead a full and very happy life, I carry my grief with me every day. I haven’t forgotten our babies for a moment. There is no way someone could “remind” me of my sadness. It is here with every breath I take.

There is no dark without light. There is no sadness without happiness. And in that, I take comfort.

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PLEASE share this blog post! Miscarriage shouldn’t be a taboo subject. It’s real, it’s heartbreaking, and it happens to more women than you think.

*namely, my beloved husband, family, and friends, plus a team of badass health care professionals including my compassionate therapist, acupuncturist, hypnotherapist and naturopath who’ve taught me that self-care is a necessity. If we are to be loving and compassionate with others we must begin with ourselves.

**Though this list is geared towards miscarriage specifically, these ideas could work for any life-changing event, such as a new cancer diagnosis, or a sudden death of a friend or family member.

***Please skip the unhelpful platitudes such as “everything happens for a reason”. Sometimes, things don’t happen for a reason. Sometimes, life just sucks. Hard. Same goes for “Just relax!” and, “Have you considered adoption?”. Even with the best of intentions, these phrases can do more harm than good.

#miscarriage #ttc #infertility #National Infertility Awareness Week #endofound #endowhat #nancysnook #endometriosis #pcos #pregnancy #pregnancyloss

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