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busterswritehand · 1 month

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You're Timeless To Me

Roughly 180 years after the events of ACOSF, Lucien looks up to find that he is surrounded by strangers. Meanwhile, Nesta realizes she has stayed still while the world around her keeps moving. Misery loves company, but these two can hardly make small talk.

Part 1

Strangers. Lucien Vanserra was completely and utterly surrounded by strangers. He sat at the council table created by him and his friends. His family. A small band of exiles that dared to dream - to want more for themselves and others below the wall. He had always known that he would outlive them. Mourn them. That he would be responsible for keeping their memory alive. He never considered, however, that everything he had built with Jurian and Vassa would outgrow him.

Lucien looked around at a council of human nations and territories. Some leaders were human or half-fae, some represented monarchies or democracies, but they all ignored him. He led the first generation of leaders alongside his friends, the second generation revered him as a sage, but this lot treated him like an ancient relic. They often bickered over each other as they were doing now. If they weren't arguing, they were scheming and schmoozing. In that way, they reminded him of the courts above the wall.

He wasn't sure why or how it had not hit him sooner, but Lucien missed his home. Not the Autumn or Spring Court or even Velaris - but Prythian. He had not returned since Elain's wedding, where her viper of a sister nearly bit his head off. Lucien couldn't believe it, but in that moment he missed Nesta too.

He missed familiarity - some sense of stagnation. Humans changed quicker than the seasons and developed new technologies too fast for him to keep up these days. Hell, with more readily available access to magic the human territories started to see an industrial boom. Lucien hated the isolation and unfamiliarity that plagued his everyday life. Once again he was without a true home.

He fidgeted with the crisp paper in his hands, his thumbs stroking over the creases left by his back pocket.

Dear Lucien,

I hope the human territories have continued to treat you well. I apologize for not reaching out sooner or more frequently.

Starfall is coming up. Maybe you would consider visiting us back in Velaris. The Night Court misses its old emissary, and I miss my friend.

Best,

Feyra

Lucien smiled faintly at the letter before looking back up at the dysfunctional group in front of him. When had everything devolved so much? They swore like sailors and acted like petulant children.

He sighed. Maybe it was time to return to Prythian.

Lucien knocked on the door of Feyre and Rhysand's river house in Velaris. He stood at the front steps, shifting in his clothes. As he waited, he peered back over his shoulders to look at the town.

Velaris beamed with the same technologies that thrived in the human world. Factories were being constructed on the outskirts near the edge of the mountain valley. The wealthier citizens drove around in their brightly colored automobiles on the cliffside roads bordering the city. He watched as tints of blue, red, and purple flashed past and around the city. They were accompanied by shrill honks and deep revving of engines as fae raced by.

Lucien's attention was swiftly ripped away from the city by the front door swinging open. Nesta stood past the threshold, staring down at Lucien. He took a step on the next stair and opened his mouth to speak. The door slammed shut - inches from his nose.

Lucien blinked, utterly baffled. He knocked again.

"Nesta," he said, "could you let me in?"

Silence. He knocked again. Stubbornness and pride kept him planted on those steps. He'd wait there all night if he had to. After all, he was invited to be their guest.

With his fae hearing he could make out the sound of shuffling footsteps then two female voices bickering. He listened closer. A satisfied smile peeked out from Lucien. It sounded like Feyra was chastising Nesta.

Sure enough, Feyra opened the door a moment later. A strained smile plastered her face. Nesta stood behind her in the shadows, glaring at the two of them.

Feyra's expression softened as she pulled Lucien into a welcoming hug.

"Sorry about her," Feyra said.

Lucien chuckled, "It's good to see that she hasn't changed a bit."

He watched the sour female silently scoff and walk toward the sitting room. Feyra leaned back, planting firm friendly hands on his shoulders.

"It seems like you haven't either."

As they studied each other, Lucien realized she had cut her hair into a short bob. The front pieces of her hair were braided towards the back. He contorted his face into comical shock.

"Has empty nest syndrome gotten to you that badly?"

Feyra rolled her eyes, shoving him playfully.

"Can a lady not change her hair once in a while?"

They laughed as Feyre welcomed him into her home.

#acotar #nesta archeron #lucien vanserra #lucien x nesta #they're just two old people in love #sjm you were so wrong for letting us know they were the original otp #how dare you #it's all I can think about now #acotar fanfiction #you'retimelesstomeacotarfic #lucnes

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justsome-di · 10 months

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Nobody Ends Up Dead in a Bathtub, Everyone Keeps Their Organs: Chapter 21

Summary: Alex is an ordinary, highly-introverted office worker. He clocks in and out and goes home to his little apartment he shares with his younger sister. He hasn’t dated in years by the time his co-workers set him up on a blind date.

The only issue is he and his date are not on the same page. At all.

While Alex thinks it’s a normal date, Damián is under the impression Alex is a client who paid to be there. No-so-quickly, they realize something is up. It’s all a prank. Damián is a sex worker Alex’s co-workers hired as a sick joke.

After reassuring that they’re both okay, Alex decides he wants revenge for both him and Damián. The plan is to use the stigma of sex work and start a 6-week, scandalous fake dating scheme with a big finale at the office Halloween party. Alex’s co-workers will be too horrified to try to prank him again. At least, that’s the plan.

You can also read this on AO3. If you don’t want to wait for new chapters, the complete story is on Patreon for only $4 with bonus stories! If you’re enjoying the story and want to support me in other ways, consider dropping me a message in my inbox or reblogging this post!

Leo knew how his parents liked him to dress. He wore the clothes his mother had bought him for Christmas a few years ago, though his shoulders had grown almost a little too broad for the top, and he had become a little too tall for the jeans.

He walked into a swanky bistro and towards the tiny table his parents were already seated at.

His mother hugged him, awkwardly and one-sided. He smelled her perfume—the same perfume she had been wearing for as long as he was alive. Her thin arms didn’t provide any warmth or comfort. The bones of her wrists dug into his back.

His father just looked at him closely with a tight smile. Leo didn’t know what he was looking for, but he hoped he wouldn’t find it.

“How’ve you been?” His mother asked. “How are your classes?”

“Classes are fine,” he said.

“Doing well in them?”

“Uh. Yeah. I’m on track to finish Magma Cum Laude.”

His mother laid her hand on her chest, over her black sweater. Fabricated pride welled up in her smile. Her eyes were blank.

“Good. Good,” his father said.

He rubbed his hands between his knees. His fingers were cold. Damián told him that if he exercised more routinely, he would have better circulation and wouldn’t be so cold in the middle of the day. But Damián exercised all the time, and he still shivered at the beginning of the fall. So, Leo didn’t quite believe him.

Silence settled over the table. Leo hadn’t kept up with whatever his parents were doing. A part of him told himself he was a terrible child. They raised him. He should have at least checked their Facebook pages. Another part reminded him that his parents didn’t deserve it. At the moment, the first part was dominating.

A waiter took their orders, smiling like he didn’t recognize the tension.

“So, are you still retiring next year?” Leo asked his father.

His father nodded. “May.”

“Oh. That’ll be nice. Do you have anything planned?”

His mother waved her hands. “His plans are to sit at home and watch birds. I asked him to take me on a vacation, but he said we’d just have to wait and see.”

“Aw, dad. Take her on a vacation.”

“I didn’t say we couldn’t go,” his father said. “I just said we’d have to see how things are going.”

“What kinds of things?”

Leo’s mother stared through him for a moment and then looked down at her hands on the table. Her wedding band, a dull gold, looked almost too big on her spindly finger. Her engagement ring still sat fine below it.

She had had another ring when Leo was growing up. There were two stones that sat side-by-side. A diamond for Damián, the spring child. And a garnet for Leo, the winter child. He had had the vaguest of memories of Damián tracing the stones with his finger when he was still young, pressing down on each cut and looping his finger around the gold band.

On the rare occasions she took it off and left it at home, Damián would slip it onto his pinky finger. Leo would watch how it caught the light as Damián held up his hand to admire it.

She wore it every day until everything happened with Damián. Leo never knew what she did with it, and he never asked.

“Have you heard back from any more schools?” his mother asked.

“Not yet,” Leo said.

“Where are you applying?”

“Almost everywhere I can afford.” Everywhere Damián could afford. “Mostly in-state schools, but I’ve sent some applications out-of-state.”

It would be best to tell them now rather than drop it on them later in case they thought he was running away. But his mother looked interested, genuinely. Her eyebrows rose, and she tilted her head in the same way Damián did when he was listening to someone.

“That’s good to hear. It’ll be good for you if you get a chance to get out of New York. You’ve been stuck here your whole life. We actually wanted to make a deal with you.” His mother looked at his father. She folded her napkin, pressing her fingers along the crease. “Why don’t you tell him?”

His father folded his hands on the table. They were always so large. Leo had held them when he was little, and he could distinctly remember how his hand felt between the thick fingers and palm. His wedding band shone in the bright, harsh lighting of the bistro.

“We talked about it, and we wanted to offer to pay for your graduate school,” he said.

Leo’s face paled. He was breathless. That was thousands of dollars. Thousands that he knew his parents had but had kept from him during his undergrad. It was good to take out criminally high-interest loans, they had told him. It built character. It was definitely punishment after he boldly announced he was going to live with Damián.

“Seriously?” he asked.

“You worked hard in college,” his father said. There weren’t many ways he would have known that. His conversations with his father had been no more than three sentences long over the past four years. They were settling into the traditional distance of father and son. “We want to help you.”

“Um. Thanks. That’s a really big—that’s a lot. Thank you.”

“But we’ll only do it on one condition.”

And just like that, Leo knew the offer was too good to be true. His father’s mouth was pressed into a hard frown. His mother was looking away.

Leo’s stomach twisted. He should have known there was a catch.

The waiter came back with a tray full of plates. He laid Leo’s Nutella and banana crepes in front of him and smiled at his gray face.

“We don’t want you living with Damián anymore,” his father said.

“That’s not fair—“

“He’s not a good influence on you.”

“How would you know?”

“He can’t be a good influence on anyone.”

His mother was using her napkin to dab her eyes. Mascara ran off onto the white fabric. Leo hoped it wouldn’t stain for the sake of the poor worker who would have to wash it.

“It’s just an offer,” his father said. “If you move out after you finish the school year, we’ll help you pay for graduate school. We’ll even help you pay for a new place.”

It was almost impossible to live by oneself in New York. Especially as a student. Damián only managed after scoring multiple, returning, high-cost clients after years of work. Even then, he worked almost every night. Leo didn’t know, practically, how he could be expected to move out and find a place if he did end up staying in the city.

He was most offended, though, at being asked to leave his brother. Damián was selfless and kind and had done so much more for him than their parents had ever done.

“I want you out of there,” his mother said, her voice catching in her throat. Her brows were pressed together. “It’s bad enough you went against my wishes by moving in with him in the first place.”

“He’s closer to my school, and he offered—“

“I begged you to not move in with him,” his mother cried. “You know what he did to us.”

Her voice was rising. Other tables were starting to glance in their direction. Leo tried shrinking down in his chair. He didn’t know if he was more angry at her or more embarrassed by her.

“He’s my brother,” Leo said.

His father held out his hand, steady and palm-down. He still frowned. He was a great businessman, Leo always knew. He knew how to negotiate.

“It’s an offer,” he repeated. “Think about it. We could pay for your schooling. Or you could do it on your own.”

And Leo knew what he meant by on his own. If he stayed with Damián any longer, his relationship with his own parents would continue to deteriorate. They would talk less and less. His mother would cry more. He wouldn’t be invited to mass anymore (not that he ever went outside of holidays), and he wouldn’t be invited to Christmas or Thanksgiving. He wouldn’t get awkward phone calls on his birthdays.

A part of him was almost thankful for the escape even if being totally cut off from his parents made him scared.

It was a lot of money to turn down. And if he went to an out-of-state school, he would have to move out anyway.

But it would be wrong.

But he could con some money out of his parents.

But maybe Damián would feel offended that he was accepting any money from them on such hurtful conditions.

Leo dug his fork into his crepes.

“I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all we’re asking from you,” his father said.

It wasn’t. But Leo could play nice until the check came.

Leo dragged himself back to the apartment hours later after he half-focused in classes.

He didn’t want to take the offer. At least, not without talking to Damián first. If there was enough bitterness in Damián, they could successfully con their parents together. They could split the money their parents sent Leo’s way and still talk and visit each other.

When he walked in the front door, he heard laughter. Laughter from two people. Leo hoped the second person was on their way out. He didn’t want any company.

He didn’t recognize the man sitting in the kitchen with Damián who laughed and smiled with him.

“You’re home!” Damiàn said. His hands were wrapped around a mug of tea. His fingers slid across the ceramic, back and forth. “This is Alex. He’s the guy I was telling you about. Eve’s brother?”

Leo stared Alex down. The man sunk in his chair. It was a little satisfying.

“The guy giving you the big paycheck at the end of the month?” Leo asked.

Alex’s cheeks reddened. Damián sighed.

“That’s not how I talk about you,” he said to Alex. “Leo, be polite. At least say ‘hi.’”

“Fine.” Leo turned back to Alex. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Alex squeaked out. “You’re Eve’s tutor?”

“Yeah, it’s cool,” Leo said. “Small word. Damián, I’m glad we’re making your client’s schemes into a family affair.”

“He’s in a bad mood,” Damián said to Alex. “He’s usually not like this.”

Leo walked behind them to get a glass from the cupboard. The crepes had left a gross, sugary film on his tongue all afternoon. He wanted to cut his tongue out of his mouth, but he’d have to make do with gulping down a glass of water.

“He’s usually a civilized human being,” Damián continued with a little edge to his voice. He definitely wasn’t talking to Alex. “He’s usually not rude to guests.”

Leo held his glass under the sink’s tap. Water filled it quickly, and Leo downed it even quicker.

“It’s okay,” Alex said. He was rubbing the back of his neck.

Leo got enjoyment out of making his squirm. He still didn’t know if his intentions with Damián were pure. Eve was great and all, but what the fuck did her brother want from his brother?

He couldn’t believe someone so painfully awkward had planned out a large appointment with a sex worker.

“I should probably get going,” Alex said. “Eve’s going to be back from work soon.”

“I’m sorry about him,” Damián said. “Maybe you can meet him again when he’s not a grumpy toddler.”

“It’s really fine.”

Damián led Alex to the front door, briefly walking out of Leo’s view.

Alex could have been a killer for all Damián knew. He was probably putting on the awkward persona to lure Damián in. When Damián let his guard down, Alex could stab him. Or hurt him.

Or maybe he wasn’t being fair, and he was making judgments just like his parents would.

He laid his glass in the sink.

The front door closed. Damián walked towards his bedroom and passed Leo without looking at him.

“Damián,” Leo called out.

Damián threw his head back and slowly turned around. “What?”

“I want to talk about something.”

“I have to get ready for a client.”

“I really need to talk to you.”

“Is it going to include an apology for what you just did?”

Leo hesitated a little too long. Damián turned his back again.

“Whatever it is, it can wait until tonight. I have to be across town in a few hours.”

He closed the door to his bedroom. Music began playing. A playlist of ‘90s hits. Leo had teased Damián relentlessly with how stuck he was in the past with his music and even the few remaining Beanie Babies he owned.

Leo walked to his door and held up his fist to knock. But he slowly lowered his arm to his side. He had already pissed Damián off. There was no chance he would want to hear that Leo met up with their parents.

It was the second time in just two weeks that Leo had pissed Damián off. At some point, Damián was going to stop forgiving him. At some point, Leo was going to irreversibly damage their relationship.

It might have been worth it to take the money anyway. Leo could get out of Damián’s hair. Damián could have his apartment back to himself. He could have company over without Leo having a tantrum.

Leo opened his laptop. A window had been sitting open with tabs of out-of-state schools, their application requirements, and their tuitions. He pulled open his own school’s student portal and looked at his GPA. He was a good student. Without worrying about finances, he could probably get into most of the schools he was considering.

Damián left without saying anything. As soon as the door closed, Leo leaned back into the couch and pressed his hands into his eyes.

He was a dick. He was an absolute dick. Leo had made Damián look bad in front of a client. A client who was going to pay Damián well at the end of the month.

Maybe Damián would be better off if Leo left anyway.

#nobody ends up dead #writeblr #writblr #neud #original writing #writing community #queer fiction #writing

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uenodivision · 1 month

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Leave It to Me (Yozakura Forever!)

Bring the Beat!

["New" Yozakura:]

(We, we just Bad Girls!!!!!!!)

[Aranai:]

Through highs and lows, in every song

We stand strong together 'cause life goes on

Though our birthplaces and roads may all differ

The place we all end up will be the same, yo

(Leave it to me!) I'm not ashamed to say it loud

You girls make me feel alive

(Using the power of a gale) We're going to rise from the bottom, straight to the top!

[Kanra:]

I look in the mirror, my past a blur, tales untold

But I'm thankful for every hug, every laugh, memories like gold

My friends and fam, they're my light, my heart's delight

We stand together, unbreakable, through every day and night

I'm the muscle of our crew, strong and always ready

In every battle, every quest, D.Vil stays steady

Fighting side by side, for them, through every struggle

Yozakura's power, through every life's puzzle!

[Kaoru:]

My past family's gone, but their spirit's still with me

In my heart, their love lives on, as strong as it can be

Found a new family, a sister young and sweet

A new mom's embrace, where love and hope meet

Trust me, the memories I have aren't frightening

No, in fact they're brightening

My love for you all is shining

Simply amazing

[Aranai:]

I'm the captain of this ship, steering through the fray

Thankful for Yozakura, even when they disobey

They test my patience, but still, they're my clan

(We're annoying?) Sure, but you're part of the plan

We're a quirky squad, but together we stand tall

I love them, quirks and all, they're my call

Leading this band, through every trial, we're blazing

(Together, we're a force, undeniably rousing!!)

Through highs and lows, in every song

We stand strong together 'cause life goes on

Though our birthplaces and roads may all differ

The place we all end up will be the same, yo

(Leave it to me!) I'm not ashamed to say it loud

You girls make me feel alive

(Using the power of a gale) We're going to rise from the bottom, straight to the top!

["New" Yozakura:]

We, we just Bad Girls!!!!!!! (Our hopes and dreams extend to the sky!)

We, we just Bad Girls!!!!!!! (We've come too far to just let it die!)

We, we just Bad Girls!!!!!!! (When we're together, we're always so DOPE it's HIGH)

We, we just Bad Girls!!!!!!! (That's right, Yozakura is forever!)

[Kureha:]

From the shadows of yesterday, we paved a path to the light

Brick by brick, with my friends, we built it just right

A road from my past to a future so bright

Their faces are a welcome sight

Together, we will ride on

Fear of the unknown is all gone

To the dawn we march upon

Yozakura's time has just begun

[Sumire:]

With a smirk and a verse, I spit fire, call it a gift

Sarcastic wit's my charm, with my crew, I uplift

Cause of them, everyday I've a smile, not a frown

Our music will knock you down!

Newcomers step up, but they can't match our groove

We're the originals, in this game, we only move to improve

Our music's immortal, echoes in the streets, so clever

We're here to stay, our rhythm, our bond, forever

[Aranai:]

When I think of when we all met, I just can't help but laugh

[Kaoru:]

No matter how bad our pasts, we've all grown stronger from the pain

[Kanra:]

Can anybody out there beat us? No!

[Sumire:]

Keep climbing until we reach very the top, yo

[Kureha:]

And through the clouds, we'll see the very ground

["New" Yozakura:]

(READY STEADY GO!!) ACTION!!

[Aranai:]

Through highs and lows, in every song

We stand strong together 'cause life goes on

Though our birthplaces and roads may all differ

The place we all end up will be the same, yo

(Leave it to me!) I'm not ashamed to say it loud

You girls make me feel alive

(Using the power of a gale) We're going to rise from the bottom, straight to the top!

["New" Yozakura:]

We, we just Bad Girls!!!!!!! (Our hopes and dreams extend to the sky!)

We, we just Bad Girls!!!!!!! (We've come too far to just let it die!)

We, we just Bad Girls!!!!!!! (When we're together, we're always so DOPE it's HIGH)

We, we just Bad Girls!!!!!!! (That's right, Yozakura is forever!)

#hypmic #hypmic oc #hypnosis mic oc #hypnosis mic #hypnosis microphone #aranai norikoru #kanra akemi #kaoru shinozaki #kureha koizumi #sumire shinomiya #“new” yozakura #yozakura #paradox live #akyr #akan yatsura #-cheers- leave it to me

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helenas-crashed-car · 2 years

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I’m going to bow into the urge. i’m going to talk about my potential valorant oc. Sorry for no read more, I’m on mobile.

also valorant blogs with ocs PLEASEEEE interact I adore all of your ocs so much!!! Nuniq and Titan really inspired me to make my own valorant oc jslddksldj

His code name is Overture! I don’t actually know on whether or not to make Overture be his own character, or if I want him to be an AU version of my oc Akira (like how the Valorant oc Bios is an AU version of the original Bios?). For now, I’m going to be treating Overture as an AU version of Akira :) I’ll update you if I decide to change that.

okay Overture time naksxjzlmsnskajsk

Hailing from the heart of Texas, Overture is loud and proud: literally. Armed with sound-based Radiant abilities, this guitarist shreds his way through combat and silences his enemies with a simple hush.

I haven’t finished Overture’s kit, sadly. I’ve thought of him more as an actual character in the Valorant universe than a playable agent. Sorry. I think he’d be an initiator or controller? None of this is final, so I’ll probably change it soon. Here’s what I know so far:

1) one of his abilities lets him place down areas of silence, allowing for stealth. It doesn’t blind enemies. Good for areas with lots of traffic, and could be used by ally players to kill enemies who can’t hear them.

2) I’m not entirely sure how to handle his ultimate. I was imagining his ultimate allows him to let out a burst of sound, damaging enemies around him and applying the concuss effect for a couple seconds, which sounds like an ability that’s very Overture-like, but I’m afraid would stray too far into Duelist (or Fade) territory. The main thing I want for his ultimate ability is that concuss effect; but I’m not entirely sure how to do it. A drawback of his ultimate, I imagine, is how loud it is: it isn’t overwhelmingly loud if you’re very close to him (that would mess with people!), but it can be heard from very far away, alerting enemies to Overture’s location.

disclaimer for anyone who’s a fan of my original oc content: Overture does not completely line up with Akira in the canon of my oc world. They are different despite being the same person, for now. Almost like mirrors…

Here’s some basic demographic information on Overture:

Callsign: Overture

Agent number: 22

Name: Akira Karasuno

Age: 21

Country of Origin: United States

Species: Radiant

Basic background information: He was around 10 when the First Light hit, his sister being 9. Shortly after the First Light, he and his sister unearthed a chunk of radianite in their backyard; unaware of what radianite was, they brought it home to their mother. Uhhhh blah blah blah, skipping some stuff, Akira and Naomi’s mom is murdered. Differing from canon, is that their mom was bludgeoned to death. Sad! Unaware of how bad of a person his mother was, and trying to cope with his mother’s death, Akira pursued anything that let him keep his mother’s memory alive. That led to his discovery that she used to be in a guitarist in a band. This spurred on Akira’s already budding love of music; the guitar he’d carry around on his model and the one he uses to play is his mother’s stolen purple strat (she stole it).

Sadly, I only have his early childhood figured out. I’ll figure out his late teens and early adulthood before VP soon, which probably will help with the next section.

How did he join VP?: I’m not entirely sure yet, either! Overture is very fun for me to think about, but I’m also a clueless little guy about him. He joined VP after Fade and the new agent that’s going to be releasing soon, which gives me some room to work with, but sadly that means he never got blackmailed by Fade, which means I can’t do one of those Blackmailer cards. Sad. He isn’t as trained in combat as someone like Brimstone and doesn’t have the experience that older agents like Phoenix and Killjoy have, which manifests in his way of handling combat: relying on the element of surprise and his Radiant abilities to get the drop on enemies and quite literally blow their eardrums out. So I think he could have been recruited by Cypher like how Fade was, or recruited after making a misguided attempt to take something from a VP agent (Chamber, perhaps)?

What I know about his journey in joining VP is how much he distrusts other agents at first. Overture struggles with paranoia and an anxiety disorder, and VP has agents like Reyna, Omen, and Fade… You can see why he’d initially struggle with fitting in with VP. Although, he gets over his paranoia: he’s an extrovert under his layers of isolating coping mechanisms, after all.

He’d get along well with the younger agents, being 21 himself. I think he’d be closest to Raze, Phoenix, and Neon, although he would also be good friends with Breach, of all people. I think his closest friend would be Phoenix, who has the same “arts major who normal people don’t like because of x” thing going on. Also, despite Phoenix’s cockiness, he’s tolerable in Overture’s eyes: he isn’t the same vein of cocky as Yoru. Phoenix is overconfident in his abilities. Yoru would probably irk Overture a little bit, honestly, for his dismissiveness of other’s abilities. But they could work together if needed, despite them clashing a bit. Overture and Phoenix probably do things like make fun of each other’s accents (Overture has a Southern accent. Interesting, right?) or try street food together. Jett and Overture would be cooking buddies :)

Sorry if my analyzations of how Overture would interact with others is too much. I’m just excited, and don’t have a lot of information besides how Overture would interact with others.

Will design his outfit soon. Keeping the redness of his original design but leaning into a more practical version of it. I might tie his hair back.

Other tidbits: Overture is transmasc. He’s more prideful in him growing up in Texas than he is of his Japanese heritage: he has a weird relationship with his race (which I will cover soon. It’s not creepy weird, he just hates his dad). He has a sweet tooth, and prefers candy like taffy to hard candy. He really likes cats, and used to own one named Jiji (who is now owned by his sister). He misses his sister a lot. I thought it would be funny not to change his music taste, so he still likes 90-00s punk and rock music. Dabbles in some 2000s emo music also. Raze would definitely joke about him having the music taste of an old man. Despite only living in Texas for about 10 years, he somehow retained the accent. His special interests differ in the Valorant AU, so I think Overture has a special interest in old/retro/outdated technology, especially gaming consoles and gadgets like label makers and tape recorders. I feel so cringe for writing this whole thing about Overture. But I’m free.

#valorant oc #valorant #do I tag this as valorant overture?#i won’t for now #overture #oc #oc au #akira karasuno #fuck it I’m tagging the agents I mentioned a lot #valorant Phoenix #valorant raze #idk if I can tag it as bios #since I mentioned him #i won’t #river talks too much #oc tag #oc posting #valorant overture

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theramblinghockeydude · 9 months

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Music is good for the soul

I love music, always have. I am also very picky about the music I listen to and kind of have that grumpy old man view of music as I don't like to venture outside of my comfort music and hear new things and I am a firm believer in "the stuff these kids listen to these days is horrible, not even music...why back in my day..." Big fan of rock music. Give me some great guitar riffs and drum and I am good to go. I also like a little piano every now and again, but it has to be the right kind. Elton John, that man knew how to do piano rock. Billy Joel kind of has it on lock as well. Country music is a huge no for me despite many people in my life trying to convert me...I am looking at you Heather with your Reba tape and getting me to go to country concerts with you :) I have also been known to listen to some Rap and Hip Hop and more recently...funk. Earth, Wind and Fire, yes please. I grew up listening to bands like Motley Crue, Ratt, Poison, Whitesnake, LA Guns, Cinderella (very confusing for my sister when she was just a wee little tyke). My favorites were Bon Jovi and Def Leppard back in the day. That changed around 1998. I had started getting into Christian Rock music a little more and started looking for more music in that genre. That is when I found Disciple and the rest is history.

What did I love about Disciple? The first thing that drew me to them was a song called, "I Just Know." Basically this song stated my faith perfectly. I don't care how you worship or what your traditions are, however you decide to worship, I just know Jesus is the way. That was exactly how I felt despite what some around me were telling me, you have to worship this way and not that way. Disciple came with a message...as long as Jesus is at the center of it all, go for it. As a Christian who was struggling to find his identity back then, it was the message I needed to hear, so I kept listening. 25 years later they are still my favorite band and they still keep pumping out music that not only speaks to me, but has the elements of rock that I love.

What is it about music in general that I personally love? Thank you for asking, that is a great question. I love how a well written song can make you feel. I love how songs can transport you back to a specific place in time, or make you think of a specific person in your life. I feel like, at least for me, music is attached to everything. There are songs in my playlist that I probably wouldn't still listen to today, but they remind me of a time and place that was important in my life. Disciple has at least one song on almost every release that stirs up huge emotions in me because of the message of the song. I love that, it makes me feel alive inside, let's me know that I have not given into the world around me and become numb. By the way, "Numb" by Linkin Park...great song. When you take a deeper dive into the music sometimes and you find out the story behind the song, that can totally change it for you. Disciple has a song, "Things Left Unsaid." The song is about saying your final goodbyes to someone and remembering the times you had with them. Here is a quote from Kevin about that song ""Things left unsaid" is also a really meaningful song for me. It was written when my grandfather died and it's the only way I really got through it." When my grandma Helen passed away, I couldn't listen to that song for maybe a year or so, it was just too hard because I knew the meaning behind it and why Kevin wrote it and it was just too hard to hear it without absolutely losing it. I am happy to say the song is back in rotation now and even though it makes think of my grandma every time I hear it, that is ok because I love remembering her. I just feel like music is so powerful that way, with how it can make you feel. Get you hyped up and ready to take on the world, mellow you out when you are anxious, give you the warm and fuzzies with the memories attached. Powerful stuff.

We have the background now on why I love music and who some of my favorites are. Let's dive into a story or two, because, well, I have a few.

I have seen Def Leppard many times in concert over the years, which is cool because they were always my favorite until they were dethroned. My favorite concert was at the Bismarck Civic Center. I believe I was in college at the time and I went with CJ. During that particular concert they played "in the round" where they set up in the middle of the floor and you crowded around the stage. No opening act, just Def Leppard and they played for what seemed like forever. Every song you wanted to hear was hit, it was the perfect experience and I was with a great friend, couldn't really get any better than this. Side note, CJ was always up for a good concert. I have quite a few concert experiences that involve him and the music associated with those concerts will often remind me of him. Another side note...Bon Jovi was also a huge favorite of mine back in the day, never have seen them live, kind of a bummer as I would have loved to back in the day before Jon cut his hair and they got soft.

Disciple, have I seen them live...why yes I have, mind you it took me almost 10 years to finally have them close enough to go, but it eventually happened. I was at work one day and on the Disciple website checking tour dates and I often did just in case. Most of their concerts were in the Southern US at the time (they are from TN) and so the chance to see them live had avoided me. As I said, I was on this particular day and going through the tour dates when I saw, what I thought was ND next to a tour date. Had to look a couple of times to make sure, but low and behold...September 16th, 2007 in Jamestown, ND...Disciple. I have to be dreaming, no way this is possible. Yep, no matter how many times I looked, it was still there. Now, the tough part, how I am going to patiently wait a couple of months? It wasn't easy let me tell you, but finally that day came and i was off to Jamestown. I believe it was a Sunday, so it worked out great. I arrived in Jamestown way too early as I wanted to make sure I found the venue with plenty of time to spare, it was on the campus of Jamestown University and I found it with ease. I sat in my car for a couple of hours waiting for the doors to open...what was I listening to...Disciple :) The doors finally opened and I was inside. This was really going to happen, oh, and the cost of all this...$10. If I remember correct, there were 4 bands. Waverly, Dizmas, Fireflight and Disciple. I had heard Fireflight before that night, so I was very much interested in their show as well as I liked what I had heard. They did not disappoint. Disciple was the headliner, so I had to wait through the others to get there. Finally the moment came. Small venue, not a ton of people, I would say 250-300, so I was able to get right down front. Disciple came out and rocked for the next hour or so, was not disappointed at all in the show. They sound fantastic live. What I was most blown away with was the passion that Kevin sang with. I mean, this man put his entire heart and soul into that concert, left it all on stage. The part of the experience that I was not expecting...you get to meet the bands after the show. They all sit at tables and sign autographs and chat with fans after the show. Heck yeah, sign me up for that. I go through the lines for the other bands and just kind of hung back a bit to let the line for Disciple thin out as I had waited too long for this moment, wasn't going to let it go by without getting the most of it. Got autographs from the buys and talked with Kevin for quite a while, it was really cool and when I left that venue I was on cloud 9, the though to driving back to Minot at midnight didn't even phase me. On the drive back, between Jamestown and Bismarck, I was treated to a cool lightning show, which was a nice cherry on top of an awesome sundae...or Sunday if you will :) Rolled into Minot around 2:30 am, had a hard time falling asleep. Went into work the next day and got to tell my story as quiet a few co-workers knew how excited I was for that show. Sometime mid morning it dawned on me...they are Williston tonight...could I...should I...Ummm...yeah, I think it has to happen. I got permission to leave early and called my sister and asked her if she was up for a trip to Williston to hear some music. Of course she was, and so it was set. Concert that night was great as well, and was cool to see it with my sister. Funny story from that night. These two girls show up and you could tell...groupies looking to "get with the band." The vibe and feel was there. During all Disciple shows, Kevin will give a message, basically, what is on his mind and what he feels God is placing on his heart to tell others that night. My sister and I got a kick out the reaction those two girls had to it, once Kevin started talking about God and Jesus, they were out...could not leave fast enough...guess they were barking up the wrong tree.

I have seen Disciple in Jamestown twice, once in Maddock with my sister and BJ and another time in Minot at Bishop Ryan HS with Danny and his son Joey. That last one was cool because Danny is also a fan of Disciple and had never seen them live. I was able to talk him into going to that one. There is just something about being at a concert with a great friend that makes it even more special.

So, that is a bit of what music is to me with a couple of stories for good measure. I honestly am not sure what lies ahead musically for me. Will I find any new bands or am I too old and stubborn to branch out? Time will tell on that one. When will Kevin decide to call it quits? That will be a sad day for me. I am going to leave you with one last quick story involving music.

Back in the day at Farstad, Danny had workout equipment upstairs. I would go up after work and use them and, of course, Disciple was playing on the boom box. I come in one night and turn on the boom box expecting to pick up with my Disciple cd where I had left it the night before...instead, I get..."Jump Around." Danny had been up there after me the night and switched cd's on me. To this day is a funny little thing with him and I, but that song will forever remind me of him, and that, again, is the power of music.

I would love it if you would leave a comment here or on facebook with your favorite band or type of music. If you have a story involving music you'd like to share, that would be cool as well.

Until next time...

#Disciple #music

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servin-up-surveys · 1 year

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survey #136

Have you ever seen a fox in person? I know that I've seen AT LEAST one alive, and it was even a red fox, which are rarer here. I've seen roadkilled ones, most which were gray foxes, and I even got way up close and personal with one of them.

When did you last do something brave? Well, this is brave by my standards when you consider the severity of my social anxiety and how *insanely* uncomfortable I get putting myself out there with like... anything. I haven't heard back from her yet (understandable), but I messaged my friend that just had a really difficult birth but is finally back home safe if she'd like me to take family pictures with the new little one, but for free just as my thank you to her for how incredibly supportive she was of my ventures in human portraiture; I wanna do something nice for her, especially if it takes away the stress of paying some big photographer when she just had a hospital stay that I'm assuming wasn't cheap. I felt really fucking awkward doing it because I obsess over "well what if she says yes just to be nice what if this is annoying to her" but I gotta get over that shit, I just wanna offer to do a nice thing.

Have you ever seen a magician? I mean, the kids' bday parties kind. I don't believe in "real" magicians though, anyway, so I guess there isn't much difference.

What's something you remember from your childhood that you wish you could experience again? Ummm... I mean, besides the obvious of like, WAY less to no legitimate worries and less responsibilities, uh... Well, sleepovers with friends were fun, especially when it was multiple of them. That's much harder to do as an adult, especially when most of your friends have children.

Do you believe in karma? Why or why not? No, look at the world around you for a bare minimum of .00001 seconds.

Do you have a TikTok account? No.

What type of music do you listen to the least and why? Uh, probably rap and similar stuff? I just almost always don't like it. Country is right up there too, but because of my sisters I'm more likely to hear that than rap.

What's one of your favorite memories from staying up late? There was one night as a teenager or very very young adult where my sister's best friend Allison stayed the night, and Nicole, she, and myself stayed up all night doing shit. Towards sunrise we walked down our path chatting (we lived in the woods at this time and it was just so beautiful), and then once it started to get a bit lighter (but still around sunrise, like pre-6AM I think), we all went in the pool lmao, my mom was SO confused when she woke up because she heard us out there and had QUESTIONS haha, that was a really fun night. I also have a lot of by this point bittersweet memories with Jason where we were up late, but I don't really like to think about them anymore.

What last made you laugh out loud? So yesterday I meant to say "hurricane" when I was talking to Girt and my dumb ass literally said "whoreicane" and I just don't need to be allowed to speak anymore 😭 then he realized "whorenado" also works WAY TOO WELL and we have new favorite words 😭😭😭

Do you usually keep water by your bedside at night? Not usually, honestly. I used to, but I kinda just stopped, idk.

What did you last heat up in a microwave? Huh, I'm not too sure, actually. I feel like it might have been sausage Mom made for breakfast or something?

If you could build a five artist/band lineup to your dream music festival... which ones would you choose? Rammstein, Ozzy, Marilyn Manson, In This Moment, and maybeeeee... Korn. I think they could make a KILLER concert together.

What's a habit you have broken or are currently trying to break? This is a problem that has come and gone multiple times in my life: rumination cycles, a lesser-known form of OCD. What happens is I will debate with myself in a COMPLETELY unending loop about ANYTHING, but usually relating to a moral issue, regardless of how obvious the right answer is. I mean it, MEAN IT, when I say it becomes the only thing I think about, to the point it would generally prevent me from doing any activity at all; I would just obsessively think. These could last for multiple days, and I think once it happened for nearly a fucking week, over ONE issue. I eventually became suicidal from this alone, but thank god my psychiatrist at the time was able to put me on an OCD med that got it under control. I've since then been taken off the med though and have been for maybe close to a year because I was without symptoms for so long, and I haven't relapsed yet. I REALLY hope I never do again, you have absolutely, utterly zero idea just how miserable rumination cycles are until you experience them to such a severity, they make you feel 100% certifiably insane.

What's the strangest thing that you've ever seen someone collect? Haha I want to preface with I thought and still think it's super cute, but it's DEFINITELY still strange: Sara always kept her snakes' sheds and had a rack-like thing in her room for them. YEARS' worth of sheds were there, like you could really see how they grew. I will always give Sara full credit for loving the absolute shit out of her reptiles and treating them just like her children; she was a better mom to them than a great deal of humans are to their biological offspring.

What's the most dominant personality trait you have? Passion.

What's your least favorite cheese? I haven't tried many cheeses AT ALL, so I couldn't tell you. What I CAN tell you is that I haven't liked most very normal cheeses I have tried.

What did you last have as a snack? lol my months-long Takis craving has finally been sated

What's your top 3 favorite fruits? Strawberries, kiwi, and then probably apples.

What season do you think is the most comfortable? Autumn.

What lie do you say the most? Idk, really. Maybe that I'm fine (even though I think I'm generally pretty honest about how I am emotionally), or "I don't care."

What did you last consume that you thought was nasty? My mom tried out this new healthy recipe a few days back that I'd have a really hard time explaining, but we both didn't like it.

This time last year, what was happening in your life? I would've gotten out of the hospital within the last month, I wanna say, and it'd be close to the time I broke mine and Sara's friendship off, but I don't think it'd happened yet, but I'm 100% positive that I felt bad friction with her. Rammstein would soon take over my life too lmfao

Did you/will you have coffee or some other form of caffeine today? I doubt it, no.

Do you have a mailbox or do you collect your mail from the post office? We have a mailbox.

Have you ever had an ear infection? I had so many as a child that I had tubes surgically put into my ears before I was like, 2. As an adult I had a TERRIBLE double ear infection purely from having a stupid fucking doctor that I am VERY happy I no longer see, and I don't even think she deserves a doctor's license for many reasons, including one way worse than this instance. I had severe earwax packing so they had to be washed/drained, HOWEVER, this fucking imbecile left my ears completely wet, and that caused both infections. It was MISERABLE. This is ALSO the woman who kept me on a medication that played a ginormous role in my initial severe weight gain to the point of obesity (this med notoriously slaughters your metabolism), and boy did she fucking love blaming it all on me. Change doctors, and the new one immediately knew what the fuck was wrong.

Do you grind your teeth, and if so, why do you do it? No.

Have you ever been hospitalized due to dehydration? No. In almost every ER visit I've ever had, I was dehydrated, but it was never the primary reason I was there. Being dehydrated is the prevailing theory for being primarily why I fainted and got my concussion, but I wasn't hospitalized, I just went to the ER and things were scheduled from there.

When you listen to music with headphones, do you keep the volume low enough to hear surrounding noise faintly, or do you blast it? lmfao I'm blasting it, it's annoyed the hell out of my mother since I was a pre-teen, because I don't hear her call me.

If McDonald’s sold hot dogs, would you buy them? I feel like I'd try one.

Were you ever force-fed as a child? No, thankfully. I will say that we had to ask to be excused, and if Mom wasn't satisfied with what we ate, she'd try to push (which usually involved eating more vegetables on the plate), but she wasn't awful about it.

Should kidneys or other organs be able to be bought and sold? No, that is an awful idea, one that gets worse the more you think about it.

What’s something most people don’t worry about but probably should? How their personal actions are affecting the environment. It's not JUST about the guys cleaving down forests or drilling for oil in the ocean and stuff, regular people do harmful things, too.

Are your pets’ names actual classic pet names, human names, places, things, verbs, or what? I tend to favor more unique and often regal-sounding names; I very much try to avoid names you hear all the time. Roman's name just... fit to me, idk, and Venus was named for how her colors resemble the planet of the same name, and I thought it was very pretty and unintimidating for a snake. We didn't name Cookie ourselves.

Who do you know that’s pregnant right now? An old middle school acquaintance, Ashlynn. We bonded SUPER fast in the very, very brief time we knew each other, but we haven't been friends that truly talk in well over a decade. The most we really do is just interact through reacting to stuff on Facebook, and rarely a comment. I think she's the only person I know who's pregnant right now.

Who have you helped move? Jason, when he was moving into the apartment. I very, VERY barely helped when me and Mom moved here around two or three years ago, which I was incredibly upset about, but I was in a physical shape where I was basically worthless with moving stuff.

What is the last YouTube channel you watched? It was actually Rammstein, I was finishing watching the "making of"s I surprisingly hadn't seen yet. Because I have to read the subtitles and I generally don't watch videos that require my full, undivided attention, it just took a while, haha.

Who is the last friend you spent time with? He's way more than a friend, but Girt.

Which member of Metallica is your favorite? (Current or past) I think I have a James Hetfield bias haha, especially with him being my mom's celebrity crush/BASICALLY obsession lol, but I like Kirk a lot as an individual, from what I've seen and remember, anyway. It's been a long time since I was well-informed about them as people.

Any forums you enjoy? Only Dirty Paws. I've considered for years now joining a Warrior Cats RP one too (I already have two characters planned lol), but eh I just don't think I'd be invested enough to keep at it.

Are you psyched for WoW: Cataclysm? lmao holy shit this is old, Cata was my favorite xpac though until Dragonflight was released... even though DF is still very young and I think I might have just stopped playing the game, I haven't logged in in weeks. Point remains though, it's been insanely well-received and I also just have SUCH a dragon bias, lol. Me not playing the game has nothing to do with the xpac's quality, I've just been way more interested lately in focusing on things that leave me feeling more satisfied in how I'm spending my time online.

Have you ever cosplayed? If so, who? No, but I'd totally love to one day.

Do you prefer to be called a nerd or a geek? Or neither? Or you don’t care? Uh neither offend me like, at all, but I think I'm more accurately a geek.

Do you know anyone who never learned to ride a bike? HAHAHAHAHAHA Y'AAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLL Girt tried ONCE as a kid and the moment he fell and got hurt said "yo fuck this" and never learned, he can't to this day 😭😭😭😭😭

What do you think about giant pandas? I think they're adorable, and the people who say we should just let them go extinct piss me the fuck off.

Do you want a cat or a dog more? I'd be fine getting another cat; I know I don't want a dog right now, I really never want another dog but I'm absolutely not taking that away from Girt so I'll probably have one again one day. But anyway, for right now, I'm not getting either; Mom knows Tobey won't be okay with another cat in the house.

Are you afraid of bugs? Most, no.

Could you (willingly) go ten days without touching a computer? Willingly, hell no. The time I went close to two months without touching one nearly drove me to absolute fucking insanity.

Is your best friend dating anyone? Me, lol. My closest friends that aren't Girt both are, too.

Have any embarrassing pictures on Facebook? Oh, I KNOW they exist lmfao, I'm just too embarrassed to even go back and see them TO delete them.

How kinky are you? They're there, but a lot are just "I think I'd be into that," and even with those, I wouldn't say I'm extremely untraditional.

Do you ever find things annoying if too many people like it? No, that is so edgy juvenile, grow up lol.

Have you ever thought that you were honestly going to die? I knew it was a possibility, but I just didn't care.

Whose name might you have tattooed on your body? Absolutely nobody's.

Have you ever given birth? No, and even if I ever do have a kid, I'm probably opting for a c-section just because of how badly I bleed in any situation and I'd prefer to Not die.

What song reminds you of your best friend? Mostly silly stuff haha, like Ninja Sex Party songs.

What was the last kind of snake you saw? A ball python, champagne morph. In the wild, I can't remember. Probably a rat snake or black racer, just because they're hard to miss.

Could you seriously have sex using a colored condom? Yes, I'm not 12.

Your significant other or crush, do they align with any label? Gamer is the immediate and strongest one. He's ABSOLUTELY a geek, haha. Also a metalhead.

What shaped you most in your life as a person? Mental illnesses.

Do you think the last person you texted is a virgin? My mother has five biological children, so no lmao.

The last time you washed your hair, did you use conditioner? I never do.

When did you last see or speak to someone you dislike? Why do you dislike this person? Yesterday, at the endocrinologist. She was an extremely aggressive, rude, presumptuous, and just emotionless wench when I went to her the first time, like I cried IN her office AND when we left that day, for quite a long time. I had no intention of ever going back to her, but I had zero choice, but thank god our interaction yesterday was brief and kind enough.

Does the last person you spoke to have any siblings? He has one older sister.

Does your best friend ever wear fake nails? No, Girt never does anything like that with his nails.

What’s the last thing you searched on Google? How to see how old your PB forum is haha, I was trying to see the creation date of Dirty Paws. Couldn't immediately find it though so decided I didn't care, lol.

Have you ever seen the last person you hugged naked? Yes.

#survey #surveys #random questions #personal questions

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catharrington · 2 years

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let’s go with lace, satin and insomnia for the banned tags asks !!!💖

🖤Thank you so much!! I love this combo! Some shared insomnia for y’all:

Billy’s posters hanging on the wall weren’t nearly interesting enough to keep him awake. Yet he couldn’t get to sleep. No matter what he tried, how he struggled. Every time he closed his eyes it was a memory of melted flesh, of teeth haphazardly sticking out of blood gums. Of the pain of ripping skin across his sides and chest. Oh his sister screaming his name. Of someone leaning over his body to stroke his blood streaked face, and ask if he’s okay.

The doctors told him it was trauma nightmares. And they would fade with time. Billy turned to his alarm clock and it flickered back 3 AM. When the hell is this going to fade, huh?

Billy lifted the pillow out from under his head, and was debating to scream inside of it or use it to smother himself, when there was a soft tapping at his window.

The pillow flopped back down on the bed. He stumbled up on his feet to cross the cold floor. Billy still had the couch pushed up against his window sill, so he balanced on one knee across the cushion as he shoved the blanket nailed to the wall acting as his curtain to the side.

Steve Harrington blinked back at him. Arm up in the air with another pebble ready to lob at his window. Billy lifted his lip up in a snarl. “Fucking idiot,” he cursed, “complete basket-case, hillbilly, weirdo,” Billy kept muttering as he struggled to lift the wooden window pane.

Steve crawled through the window like he had done it a thousand times before. He came to a rest on Billy’s couch. Plopping down with a charming exhale of effort. He brushed his long brown hair off his forehead, and Billy’s frown deepened along with his blush.

“Why are you showin’ up in the middle of the night, Harrington?” Billy hissed. Keeping his voice down.

Steve shrugged. Watching intently as Billy sat correctly next to him on the couch. Watching intently as the little thing was more like a loveseat, and Billy’s legs were pressed up flush with Steve’s own. “Couldn’t sleep,” he whispered back.

Billy took a moment to pause. His eyes fluttering downwards as if caught doing something wrong.

“Did I wake you up?” Steve asked. And it sounded a lot like that voice. That voice in Billy’s trauma nightmares that asks if he’s okay. If he’s alive. Billy’s thinking about that hand across his cheek and if it was real at all. His eyes snap over to look at Steve’s hands. They are nice, big and they look soft enough.

Billy shakes his head. “Nah, just…,” a thousand excuses come and go. Billy grumbles as he can’t focus on a single one well enough to lie.

Then he finally notices, and he blinks in an owl like confusion as he looks up and down Steve’s chest. “What the hell are you wearing?”

Steve’s hand clutches across his chest. Those long fingers tangle in the satin fabric of a sleeping shirt. He had the mind to put jeans on, but left the oversized shirt just half tucked into the denim’s waist band. It looked so goofy. And Steve didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed about it. He smirked, in that same handsome charming way he always did. Like nothing could bother him. It made Billy’s blood boil.

“I mean, I was trying to sleep. So these are my pajamas.” He giggled a bit.

Billy rolled his eyes. “Rich boy with silk pajamas, crawling in through my window.” He almost laughs.

But his laugh catches in his throat. Because Steve’s crawling, his jeans slide up against Billy’s bare thighs, they come to rest above the thin fabric of his boxer shorts. Totally normal pajamas. Unlike someone.

Steve’s arms got him caged in too, draping gently but forcefully across his shoulders to lay on the back of the loveseat. Steve’s girly ass silk shirt feels like heaven against Billy’s bare chest. Still doesn’t make them good pajamas.

“Something wrong with my pajamas?” Steve asks. Leaning forward so his exhale is right into Billy’s parted lips.

“Nah,” Billy growls low in his chest. “Seems normal for you, pretty boy.” He lifts his hands from where they were flopped on the cushions. They wrap around Steve’s ribs left bare for Billy to touch. The silk of his shirt moves just like water. It’s a blue color, and Billy can’t help but play with it like waves in and out of the shore.

Until his playing shifts the oversized shirt to come open. Until his fingers find strips of lace going across Steve’s ribs. Until he’s following that soft lace to two thick wires that cup under Steve’s chest muscles. Until his fingers find where Steve’s nipple is hard enough to stand up though the empty lace bra.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Billy repeats. His throat clicking and his voice a shiver of the anger it held before.

Steve puts his hands on Billy’s wrists and moved them to cup around his chest. Feeling him up under his sleeping shirt like some girl giving it up for the first time. It makes Billy’s boxers feel so tight he might explode with it.

“Something wrong with my pajamas?” Steve asks. His lips are plump and soft, gentle on Billy’s cheek where they lift up to leave a wet trail with every word.

Billy doesn’t answer him, they don’t have too much time left. He just cups one hand around Steve’s little tit and the other around his jaw to correctly claim those lips in a rough kiss.

***

My ask is still open for the banned words list prompts 😽😽

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove fic #my fic #steve/billy #harringrove fanfic #you know I had to do some stbee cross dressing like it’s me it’s my one true love

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

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You Have to Let Go

For @whumptober2021′s Day One prompt, “You Have to Let Go” / Betrayal

CW: Forced vampirism, blood drinking, vampire whumpee, whumpee takes revenge, referenced drug addiction

1908, somewhere outside of New York City

“You can’t keep this up forever.” William, one of the oldest members of the pack at just over a century, lays on his back on a chaise, his head hanging off, looking upside-down at the newest vampire in the pack.

Blood does not pool in his head or redden his cheeks, although he’s been like that for an hour or more. He stays pale, his hair and skin and even his eyes all nearly the same shade. It gives him the appearance of a ghost, although he’s solid enough.

Cold, and solid.

More marble statue than man, now. And yet still more man than animal, though that depends a little on the viewer’s perspective.

“Watch, watch me try,” Tristan hisses back at him from where he sits, curled up in the corner of the room, arms around his bent legs. He stares at a mostly-healed scar on his left knee, from a time he tripped and fell in the dark of the basement downstairs. It’ll be there forever now, he’s told, a reminder for eternity of the wounds he wore when he died.

He pushes on it. There’s no pain.

Of course there isn’t. Pain is your body trying to warn you not to die, and he’s already dead. What is there to warn him of now? All the worst things have already happened.

There’s a soft cry from an adjacent room, woozy and almost sultry. An answering murmur in Malorie’s low voice. There’s a flirty laugh, and then the next sound is less cry than moan. He’d blush if he still could. Instead, he ignores the sound. Someone paying money for the oblivion the venom offers them, or paying in skin and blood.

Vampires aren’t picky, and blood renews much faster than coins, anyway.

“We gave you a gift. Wrapped it all up in a bow for you, didn’t we? ” William has an odd accent, like he’s a mix of Brit and something else that Tristan doesn’t recognize. There’s a mocking lilt to his tone that Tristan knows from his own childhood, the landowner’s children teasing him for his oddities and for the way they felt all the families working their land were more or less the same. Tris hadn’t been the favorite of the other farmers’ kids - there’d been whispers behind hands about all the bits of him that weren’t like other children - but they’d banded together against the landowner’s children still. He remembered with fuzzy affection the others picking up rocks more than once to throw in his defense.

There were still parts of home where there were rumors of changeling children, and his mother had angrily shouted down an accusation more than once, when he was young and caught lining up river rocks in perfect circles. But for all that there might be whispers from the old, the other village children had always stuck together when someone from outside came mocking.

He’d been so happy to get away from the town, going on the ship with his parents to America. Tears threaten at the memory of his mother holding him at the edge of the ship, the salt-spray in his face as they set off and away from home and toward what she promised would be a grand new one.

Her sister had gone ahead first, years before, and had written glowing letters about America as a land of chances that Ireland didn’t offer.

He wondered, bitterly, if his aunt had already been hooked on the venom by then. If she’d been writing those letters from vampire dens, with a pair of fangs buried in her other arm while she signed Your loving sister, Joanne.

Had she known she would try to sell him before she ever saw his face? Had she sold his parents’ lives, too, somehow?

He wishes, fierce and strong, that they had never left Ireland at all. That his mother had known not to trust Joanne as far as she could throw her. Too late, though. Too late.

Joanne the only one left standing, now. The rest of them are dead.

Even Tristan, who can be dead and still be separated from his parents by the gulf of their different kinds of death, who stares into damnation even if he were fully destroyed now. He remembers trying to confess his sins to a priest who chased him from the church with screams of demon, demon, begone. His soul has been handed over to evil, and all he’d ever done was try to be good.

Tristan wipes the pink tears from his cheeks before William can see them. “I, I, I didn’t want your, your gift.”

“Does that matter now?” William flips over onto his stomach and drops to the floor into a crouch, smiling. His fangs glimmer in the dimness, as the night stretches on and on towards dawn. Already the horizon is going lighter around the edges, a soft dove gray that will lead soon to pink and blue. Already, Tristan can feel an unnatural exhaustion weighing down his bones, the need to sleep while the sun is up.

“To, to me it does.” Tristan leans his head slowly against the wall, closing his eyes. The pulse of thirst is stronger than his heartbeat ever was.

“You’re not human any longer,” William says, and there’s a gentleness to his voice that Tristan is surprised by, turning to look at him. “You have to let go of all that. You’re not it any longer, and won’t be again. But isn’t this better?”

Tristan blinks once, twice. “No,” He whispers but fiercely. “I’ve, I’ve, been, um, I’ve been made a murderer, against my will. What of that is, is better?”

“All men kill, one way or another.” William shrugs, casual and unbothered. “We are only more honest about it and our reasons. But here, look, I’ve had one more thing done.”

He claps his hands. Tristan flinches at the sound, but the soft murmurings of the pack from other rooms goes silent. Then they drift into the parlor, one by one. Malorie is still wiping her latest partner’s blood from around the corners of her mouth, smiling.

There are seven in the pack, not counting Tristan himself. He tries not to count himself.

When he looks now he frowns, seeing only five. “William?”

“We’ve one more gift for you,” William says, and gestures to the open double-sized doorway.

Tristan stares as the last two members of the pack appear, with his aunt held between them, bound until she has to be dragged and cannot walk on her own.

Joanne’s eyes are wild, rimmed in bright white. She is gagged, cloth tied over her mouth until it bites viciously into the corners of her mouth. She sees him and begins to struggle anew, shouting as best she can. Nonsense sounds, muffled, pointless shouting.

He can’t tell if she is begging for her life or cursing him.

He wishes he could believe it’s the former.

“What, what, what what what is this?” His words are barely a whisper, as he unfolds himself, pushing up onto his feet. His gums begin to itch around where his fangs have grown, the venom ready.

“She’s behind in her payments again,” Alyssa says, laying her head on Joanne’s shoulder, her long brown hair falling half over her face. “In too deep. Chases the fang and doesn’t pay her rent, doesn’t pay us either.”

Tristan stands perfectly still, feeling nearly frozen. His aunt’s terror and panic are something he can smell, now, the sharp tang of adrenaline. It sours the blood, but there are vampires who prefer it that way. Who say the sour taste of pain and fear is a higher form of flavor.

William steps up to his side, running a hand down Tristan’s arm. He flinches away from the touch, but he knows better than to move away from the pack leader more than that. His chin tucks down in unconscious submission to William’s will. “You, you, you you you want me, to, to… kill her?”

“You miss your family,” William says, softly. “It ties you to your old life.” He smiles, something Tristan can see from the corner of his eyes, and leans his head slowly against Tristan’s, mingling white and red hair together. “She’s the reason they’re lost to you, right?”

“Yes,” He whispers in reply, turning slightly into the touch. William’s cool hands comes to cup his face, and he presses a soft kiss, light as air, against Tristan’s cheek, the corner of his mouth, finally presses their lips together.

It’s all sensation without temperature, and Tristan hums, opening his mouth for it, letting William take what he wants. His packleader’s tongue finds his fangs, presses against the venom glands just above and behind them.

A tingle of venom falls onto Tristan’s tongue.

William hums. “Good boy,” He whispers, making Tristan shudder, half-disgusted and half-grateful for the praise.

Joanne’s struggles kick up into a frenzy, but they do her no good. She’s bound so tightly that her wrists are rubbing raw to bleeding, and he can smell it. Saliva gathers in his mouth, his venom pulsing, sizzling on his tongue like a hot pepper eaten raw. He finds himself shaking, hands clinging now to William’s arms just to stay standing.

Joanne welcomed them when they got off the boat. But she’d snubbed Tristan’s father, had never liked him. She’d helped them find work, and all along she’d gone places at odd hours of the day and night.

All she’d said to him after his parents died and he moved in with her was that his mother was never meant to die. She’d been meant to be out of the apartment, but had decided not to go on the errand to the woman who took in piecework, and Joanne had told him, I didn’t know she’d be home, or I’d have changed the day, wouldn’t I?

Then she said he should stop mewling in his grief, and slapped him full in the face for it.

His lips pull back from his teeth, although he isn’t quite aware of it. Only of the taste of blood in the air on his tongue.

“Have your revenge,” William whispers, the devil tempting a boy who has never been a saint. Tristan wonders if his mother will hate him, in her eternal rest, that he isn’t strong enough to resist this chance.

He tips his head back and lets William mouth along the line of his neck.

“Let death come upon them, and let them go down alive into hell.” The verses come easily, without stammering. He was always better at reciting what he’d been taught to memorize, the words his mother read and reread to him, than at speaking for himself. “For there is wickedness in their dwellings, in, in the midst of them. But I have cried to God: and the Lord will save me.” His lips twist, and the tears burn so hot it feels like they are boiling over his eyes and down his cold skin. “But, but, but I cried, Aunt Jo, and-... and and and no one saved, um, saved me.”

He turns away from William and meets his aunt’s eyes.

She stares back at him, still struggling, still fighting. The blood from her torn-open arms runs down her hands behind her back, dripping to the floor. He can hear each droplet hit one by one. He can smell the fear in her, and he can smell what she’s spent her day doing. That she slept late, and ate at a place down the block from their tenement where the old woman sells sandwiches, the big blocks of meat carved to order.

He can smell that she never thought of him at all, as she prepared to come here, to the den, for venom she can pour into a cocktail. He can smell even the way she was surprised when they told her there would be no more credit for her, she must pay now or perish.

She can’t pay. There is nothing left. She’s long since spent every bit of scratch that she gained from the deaths of her sister and brother-by-marriage, the extra cash that came from selling her nephew into… this.

He’s been moving across the floor and barely noticed. He’s only a foot or so away from her now, and the smell of her sweat is as strong as her blood. His pack members can see the fight in him fading, he’s sure, because their eyes are overbright and glittering with excitement.

He holds her gaze.

It’s easier, since he died, to look people in the eyes. He’s not sure why.

“You,” He says, in a low voice that no longer trembles. “You made it so, so, so so I won’t ever be seeing them again. As a cloud is consumed, and passeth away: so he that shall go down to hell shall not come up. If, if you had, if I had died with them, if I…”

His throat feels like it’s closing, his voice dries up.

“But, but, but, but you made me be damned,” Tristan manages, finally, his voice thready and barely-there. “Even if… even if I, if someone, if I am… I’ll still never, um, never see them again. We are, are, are, are both damned, now.”

William, just behind him, a cool presence the same temperature as the air around them, hums, interested. His hands rub up and down Tristan’s arms. “Will you kill her, Tristan? Have your vengeance? We’ll clean what’s left up for you.”

“No.”

Everyone inhales, although they don’t need to, in surprise.

Tristan stares one last time into his aunt’s frightened eyes. “I, I, I won’t, won’t kill her. But, um, but but but… but… I want… want you, your gift to be something else, William.”

“Name it, little brother.”

I’m not your brother.

He doesn’t bother with the protest. Not anymore.

“Turn her,” He says, softly. “And then, um, then then then wall her up in, in the cellar, and and and leave her, to, to starve.”

“A new vampire who doesn’t feed faces the true death anyway, in a month or two,” Malorie points out. When Joanne turns her head away, Malorie grabs her by the hair, forcing her to look back at Tristan with a cry of pain.

“I don’t care. I, I, I just want her to, um, to suffer.”

He walks away, moving around the little group, and out into the growing new light of the early dawn. His bones already feel weighed down by the promise of sunlight.

There is a workshop, a rickety wooden shed, in the yard. Tristan moves into it, closing the door to give himself a nearly-total darkness, and burrows down into the dirt, curling into a ball, closing his eyes. His hand grasps, instinctively, at a rosary he can no longer wear. Finding nothing, he finally goes still.

He hears one long wailing scream from his aunt from within the house, and then no more sound at all.

He wonders how long it will take her to have her first death.

He wonders how long it will take for her to feel her second death, the true death, as she is starved of the blood her body needs to fully become the monster she had Tristan himself made into.

His mother would care.

Tristan doesn’t.

He falls asleep as the sun comes up, at the same time his aunt’s body shuts down bit by bit. Her heartbeat is the last thing to still.

Tristan’s heart stopped beating nearly four years ago.

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @insaneinthepaingame @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @newandfiguringitout @astrobly @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @pretty-face-breaker @doveotions @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @what-a-whump

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massivedrickhead · 3 years

Note

I’m a glutton for punishment, could you pretty please do a follow up to the ‘you don’t know who I am’ bechloe week prompt? 😭

Sometimes I wonder if you lot are okay and then I remember I’m the one writing it…

Part 1

Read on AO3

“Mom, are you listening?” Blake asked, shooting a concerned glance at her sister. “Do you understand what I’ve just said?”

Chloe just hummed, absentmindedly twisting the wedding band on her finger, as she looked out the window from her room.

She liked this spot by the window because it meant she could see Beca arriving, and she would be here any minute.

“Mom?” Riley tried this time.

Chloe turned to look at them. “Yes?”

“Did… did you hear what Blake just said?” Riley’s eyes were red from crying. It felt like all she’d done was cry the past few days. “About… about Mom?”

Chloe’s breath quickened for a moment, as she replayed the news the girls had just given her, trying to make sense of it.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” Chloe said, turning back to the window.

“I’m not lying,” Blake said, her voice breaking slightly. “Mom… Mom died. The doctor said she was sick, but she didn’t tell us.”

“He said it was peaceful,” Riley said, sniffing. “She died in her sleep.”

“Of course she didn’t,” Chloe said, her eyes still fixed on the drive of the nursing home.

“I found her,” Riley said before she dissolved into tears again. “Blake, I can’t.” She left the room.

With a sigh, Blake approached Chloe, and took both her hands in hers. “Mom, can you look at me?”

Chloe did, surprised to see tears in her eldest daughter’s eyes.

“I know this is hard for you to understand,” Blake said. “I know this isn’t your fault. But I need you to really try and hear me, okay? Mom - Beca - she died. A couple of days ago now. We keep trying to explain it to you, but you aren’t… it isn’t taking hold.”

Chloe swallowed, tears filling her eyes.

“I don’t understand,” she said, softly.

“I know, Mom,” Blake said, swallowing the lump in her throat, forcing herself to keep it together.

“You look a lot like my daughter, you know?” Chloe said, her voice shifting from heartbreak to curiosity in seconds.

Blake closed her eyes and tears slipped down her cheeks. She wanted to scream at her Mom that she was her daughter, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good.

“Wait till my wife gets here, you’ll see. She’ll tell you just how much you look like her,” Chloe said, brightly, her attention returning to the window.

“Okay,” Blake said. “I should probably go, I need to get home to the kids.”

“No,” Chloe said, “wait a few more minutes? Beca will be here soon.”

“Why didn’t you remember her when she was alive?” Came Riley’s voice from the doorway. “She might have… she would have fought if she still had you.”

“Riley,” Blake said, softly. “Come on, this won’t help.”

“You were her entire world,” Riley said, tears coming quickly, “but it seemed like you remembered pretty much everyone but her. Do you know what that did to her?”

“Riley,” Blake said, again. “Stop it.”

“Who are you?” Chloe asked, feeling attacked.

“Who are you?!” Riley snapped. “You’re supposed to be my Mom but-”

“Enough,” Blake said, cutting her off. “Go and wait for me in the lobby. This isn’t helping.”

With a noise of frustration, Riley left the room.

Blake turned back to face Chloe.

“She’s upset with me?” Chloe asked, looking almost childlike.

“No, Mom,” Blake said. “Not really. She’s just… she misses Mom. And she misses you.”

Chloe nodded, and looked down at her wedding band. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’m… I’m scared.” She looked back at Blake. “I know I’m supposed to know who you are, but you keep… flickering.”

“Who do you think I am?” Blake asked, her voice nothing but patient and kind.

Chloe lifted her hand to Blake’s dark brown hair, and gently touched it.

“You look like…” Chloe’s eyes searched Blake’s. She studied the shape of her nose and the colour of her eyes. She knew she was someone. “I think you’re someone very special to me.”

“Yeah,” Blake sniffed. “I think I am.” Chloe smiled, and Blake kissed her Mom on the cheek. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Chloe said, turning to face the window again.

She wasn’t sure who she was waiting for anymore, but she carried on waiting.

Outside Riley was being consoled by one of the nurses. When she saw Blake approaching she looked guilty, and suddenly she was a little kid again.

“Ri, we can’t talk to her like that,” Blake said, softly, taking a seat beside her. “You know that. It isn’t her fault.”

“I know,” Riley said, sniffing. “I just… I want Mom.”

“Come here,” Blake said, putting an arm around her shoulders. “I wish she was here too.”

“I thought we had time with her, you know? I wish she’d told us. I wish we could have been able to prepare,” Riley said, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. “Finding her like that…” Riley dissolved into tears again.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Blake said, tears stinging her own eyes.

“Do you think she understands?” Riley asked after a few moments of silence.

“No,” Blake said. “She’s getting worse by the day. It’s probably kinder if we don’t tell her again.”

After that day, Chloe didn’t remember her daughters again. Beca would float into her mind occasionally, but never for very long.

Blake visited every other day, because she knew that’s what Beca would have wanted her to do, but Riley found it too hard. In her mind, she had lost both of her parents.

Blake would sit and listen to Chloe tell stories about her childhood, until her early memories started to slip from her too.

Her speech was beginning to fail, and her balance was poor too.

Blake knew it was a matter of months, not years, that she had left with her Mom.

“Do you want to see a picture of Davey?” Blake asked on her last visit. “It was his birthday last week.” It had been six months since they lost Beca, and Davey’s birthday felt like the first time she really smiled in a long time.

“Who?” Chloe asked, her hands fidgeting in her lap.

“My little boy,” Blake said. Your grandson, she almost said. She handed Chloe her phone.

Chloe smiled. “I always wanted kids,” she said.

Blake swallowed hard as she took back her phone.

“What did you say your name was?” Chloe asked.

“Blake,” Blake said.

You used to tuck me in at night and you used to hold me when I cried.

Mom would carry me on her shoulders and taught me how to play piano, and you used to make me chocolate chip pancakes when I was sad.

You would sing to me when I was sick and Mom once had a fight with a guy who took my picture.

“That’s a nice name,” Chloe said, stifling a yawn.

“Thank you,” Blake said. You chose it. “My Mom chose it.”

“Well I suppose it’s time for you to go now,” Chloe said, her social skills not what they were.

“Yeah,” Blake said, wiping the corner of her eye on her sleeve. “I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

“Okay,” Chloe said. “Goodbye, then.”

“Bye.” I love you. I miss you.

Chloe woke up the next morning and for the first time in a very long time, she felt like herself.

The fog that had filled her mind was gone, along with the constant aches and pains that had filled her body.

It was such a relief. Like waking up from a nightmare and realising everything was okay.

Beca was sitting on the end of her bed.

“Hey you,” she said, smiling sadly. She was younger than Chloe thought she should be. Early thirties at the oldest. “I didn’t think I’d see you so soon.”

Something twisted inside of Chloe, and she looked down at her hands. Gone were the wrinkles and age spots. They were young with freshly painted, neatly trimmed nails.

“Oh,” Chloe said, reality hitting her as a cold chill ran down her back.

She turned and saw herself - the old lady she’d become - still lying on the bed. Eyes closed, chest still.

“Come on,” Beca said, holding out a hand. “It’s okay, you don’t need to be afraid.”

“The girls?”

“They… it’s going to be hard for them. But they’ll get through it,” she said.

“I can’t go back? I can’t say anything to them? I… I forgot them, Beca. When… I don’t know when I last told them I loved them,”

“They knew,” Beca said, softly. “We can’t go back.”

“I don’t want to leave them,” Chloe said. She didn’t know if she could cry in whatever form she was in, but she wanted to.

“I know. I didn’t want to either. People rarely do. But we can keep an eye on them and, eventually, they’ll come and join us,” Beca said.

Chloe swallowed and nodded. “I missed you,” she said, “I’m so sorry I forgot you.”

Beca smiled, and tears filled her eyes. “I missed you too.”

She held out her hand again, and Chloe took it. She felt warmth spreading through her.

“How much time do we have?” Chloe asked, smiling as Beca pulled her into a hug.

“We have forever.”

#bechloe prompt #bechloe angst #lots of angst #bechloe #bechloe fanfiction #bechloe fanfic #bechloe fic #anonymous #anon #pitch perfect #pitch perfect fanfiction #pitch perfect fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #beca x chloe #old bechloe #bechloe Drabble #Drabble

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earnestly-endlessly · 3 years

Note

Hi! Do you have any Cherik Army AUs? I've managed to find just 3.

Hi Anon, thanks for the ask. I found some good Army AUs, though some might not quite fall into the category of 'Army AU'. There are, surprisingly, few Army AUs that I have found, whereas there are several military and war AUs, but those don't necessarily involve an army. I did include a variety that involve an army in one way or another, though some fit the bill better than others. I hope you find some that you enjoy!!

Cherik Army AU

I Want to Guard Your Dreams And Visions – luninosity

Summary: I was reading Barbara Hambly’s Abigail Adams mystery novels, and then Erik/Charles American Revolutionary War AU happened. Little snippet in which they share a tent, drink coffee, and provide support to each other.

The Eggnog Riot – Sophia_Bee

Summary: 1826. The American Military Academy in West Point. The day after Christmas. Cadet Erik Lehnsherr wakes up naked with a certain cadet Xavier sprawled across his chest. He can only blame the eggnog.

No Man’s Land – ikeracity

Summary: It's 1914 in Ypres, Belgium. British soldier Charles Xavier has been in the trenches for four months of endless artillery fire, bone-deep cold, and constant fear of the enemy. But on Christmas Eve, the gunfire falls silent, and they climb out of their trenches for a Christmas truce. Charles, of course, meets Erik, the German soldier across the way.

My Land’s Only Borders Lie Around My Heart – pseudoneems

Summary: WW1 Christmas truce of 1914. Opposing soldiers Erik and Charles meet.

Le soldat – Iggyassou

Summary: Erik is in the trenches, trying to survive the war so that he can go back to Charles, his young lover waiting for him back at home.

Names – Squeegee

Summary: In the summer of 1917, British soldier Charles Xavier finds himself taking cover in a shell crater.

Not sure if the 'graphic' tag applies or not, but I'd rather be safe than sorry.

Quell a storm with pen and ink – patroclux

Summary: Charles had spared his life. That was not something he could easily repay.

They wrote letters to each other for two years, until Charles was pulled out of the war from a sudden illness and Erik remained to fight for a cause he didn't believe in. One that ultimately had no effect; one that stole away four years of his life.

Traumatized and persecuted, Erik applied for a post at Janus, a lighthouse in the middle of the Irish Sea. He thought being alone would do him good.

Despite the letters and despite the love, Erik didn't expect Charles to find him.

Hier steh ich an den Marken meiner Tage – MonstrousRegiment

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is a spy in the SS, and his British liaison is strategist Charles Xavier. Their relationship from the moment they meet to a year after the end of the war.

Theme and Variations: War – ninemoons42

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is a musical prodigy and a man destined for great things and great stages. But his life is shattered by a terrible accident that leaves him blind and trying to find his way back to his life, his music, and his place in the world.

Then he meets Charles Xavier, an agent of Section 8 of the Military Intelligence Directorate of Providence, and he finds himself listening in to clandestine radio transmissions and clicking Morse code, and these sounds are part and parcel of a war that can only take place in the shadows and the hidden places of history.

Strib nicht von Mir – ravenoftheninerealms

Summary: A squad of Allied Forces, led by Charles Xavier, liberates the Nazi concentration camp where Erik was being held prisoner.

Cold foxholes, warm hearts – oddegg

Summary: Basically, this is Band of Mutants. A little slice of life in Bastogne.

Photographs and Memories – tirsynni

Summary: When war-battered Erik Lehnsherr met Charles Xavier, the man kneeling in the dirt and whispering to a lost refugee child, Erik feared his days of running from his deviance was done.

Marching Home – Quietbang

Summary: For a prompt on the meme asking for fic dealing with the fact that, in comics canon, Charles served in the Korean war.

War meant something different to this generation, Charles knew.

Crash on the Levy (Down in the Flood) – Quietbang

Summary: “This is much bigger than you think. You're in the middle of a war, and you don't even realize, do you?”

He pauses, and answers his own question.“No, of course you don't. How silly of me."

The Knight and the Dagger – Dow

Summary: A Lieutenant in the Soviet Army, Erik Lensherr had no other goals than to find the man that killed his parents. But when a discovery yields a little boy with wings like an angel, Erik is shocked to realize that he isn’t alone. There are other people like him, both dangerous and alluring.

Lifelong Service – Pookaseraph

Summary: Erik thinks he should be the one to teach their recruits hand-to-hand combat; Charles makes a persuasive argument to the contrary.

Footsteps of uprooted lovers – ninemoons42

Summary: Against a turbulent backdrop of artistic, social, and political upheaval, the playwright Charles Xavier and the photographer Erik Lehnsherr find themselves meeting under less-than-polite circumstances, but part rather more amicably than they'd met.

When they find each other again in a Barcelona that is falling inexorably toward war, they find themselves taking up arms, each in his own way, and together they join a struggle for freedom, for love, and for their very lives.

Dear Soldier – Lindstrom, ToriTC198

Summary: "Dear Soldier,

I pray that this package finds you well. The organization gave us a list of odds and ends that you might need, but I thought that a person so far from home might appreciate something more than soap and tube socks."

When Charles' school decides to send care packages to the soldiers fighting in Vietnam, he chooses to also include a letter and a few personal touches. When Staff Sergeant Erik is the recipient of that particular care package it will spur a relationship that will change them both.

Fortunate Son – blueink13

Summary: he days leading up to and during Alex's deployment in Vietnam. Everyone handles it in their own way. Some handle better than others.

You’re Here – Deshonana

Summary: Everyone decides its a good idea not to tell Erik when his boyfriend comes home from the military.

Welcome Home – loveydoveyecstasy

Summary: It's been two years since Charles was deployed to Afghanistan, and Erik can't wait to pick him up at the airport.

When Secrets have Secrets – ximeria

Summary: The arguments that take place in General Xavier's office when General Lehnsherr has a bad day are legendary. Quite frankly, no one really knows what's going on and if the two men have it their way, no one ever will.

Quiet Company – Sophia_Bee

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is always on the move. He's spent the last many years going from war torn country to war torn country telling the stories of the people there through photographs. Then one of his pictures is selected as a winner for the Pulitzer Prize and Erik finds himself stuck in London for longer than he wants. He ends up with an assignment to photograph Charles Xavier, a wealthy philanthropist who is intrigued to find himself working with a Pulitzer-winning war photographer. Erik is far less intrigued by someone he considers privileged and out of touch. Both of their lives are about to change in ways they couldn't imagine.

The City is Ours – RedStockings

Summary: Erik felt his heart racing with excitement, lightened, and for once felt joyful. Charles had looked at him, really looked at him, and there had been something there, a knowing of a kind. As the soldiers laughed amongst each other, and joked each other about who would succeed in marrying the boy, Erik made himself a silent vow. Charles was going to be his, and nothing would keep him from having him. He’d marry him, and he’d save him, and Charles would love him for it.

Not even the war could keep them apart... right?

Sign of the Times – dsrobertson

Summary: Casablanca-ish AU.

Charles Xavier meets Erik Lehnsherr in Paris, 1937. They spend the next two years with one another, stupid in-love, until war comes heavy in September 1939. Erik leaves for Poland and the Resistance movement there, promising to return. Charles is left in Paris, where Nazi jackboots march in, Summer of 1940. He becomes a member of the underground French Resistance, publishing illegal newsletters, leaflets, until news comes through in February 1942: Erik is dead. Charles throws himself into more dangerous work, meeting with Communists, helping derail a German train, and he does too much, goes too far. His friends find him safe passage out of France, out across the Mediterranean, to Morocco, Casablanca. It is here he finds Erik, alive.

The Waste Land – nekosmuse

Summary: The White Queen and her Shadow King sit on their throne, safe behind the psionic shields of the Walled City. The armies of Genosha batter uselessly at the gates, a war locked in stalemate. Magneto, camped in the frozen mud, receives word the Citadel intends to send a telepath to the front lines. The same telepath he met two years ago, who sat across a carved wooden chess set and offered Magneto the first friendly smile in a lifetime. The same telepath who still haunts his dreams.

Winter Comes With a Knife – RedStockings

Summary: It apparently came to no one’s surprise that the war-mage Erik Lehnsherr took up residence in the Dark Keep. I knew he was going to choose my sister, Raven, to be his apprentice so why wouldn’t he let me go? What did he want from me?

My name is Charles Xavier, I can read minds and use magic. I’ve met Kings and Queens, mages and magic users. I’ve travelled through lay-lines and jumped through the Dark Void… but none of that really matters.

I am leading an army into war, I am scared and I never wanted this. I’ve come to realise that what I want, rode into my life when I was still a child. Now he’s out there, ready to charge into battle. Ready to die for me.

Polaris – LastAmericanMermaid

Summary: Charles Xavier is 19 years old, doe-eyed and soft; Erik Lehnsherr is 24 years old, steely-hard and bitter. One is a soldier, the other a refugee. Both are mutants. There will be pain, oh yes.

(An AU in which Charles is a wounded British soldier, Erik is the German hiding in France who nurses him back to health, and the contents of this fic are best read to the soundtrack of Atonement.)

Note: Unfinished

MEDIC! – paladin_danse

Summary: A British airborne medic finds himself alone and afraid behind enemy lines. When he decides to save the life of an S.S. German officer he finds wounded in the snow, he has no idea the choice he has made will alter the course of the war—and their lives—forever.

Note: Sadly unfinished

Suicide is Painlesss – weethreequarter

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr did not become a doctor to pick bullets out of children. Unfortunately the US Army had other ideas.

Stuck in the middle of the Korean War, Erik and his fellow civilian surgeons have to battle not only the war, but also weather, mud, and boredom. And that's without mentioning Major Sebastian Shaw who thinks war is the best thing that's ever happened to him and never should've been allowed to pick up a scalpel, or Colonel William Stryker who may or may not work for the CIA and probably doesn't even know himself.

Throw in new arrival Captain Charles Xavier, and Erik is in for a very interesting war.

Note: Unfinished

A Light That Never Goes Out – R_Cookie

Summary: It was meant to be the war to end all wars; these two men were never supposed to meet. One a German Jew, the other a British surgeon. The odds that their paths should cross were next to none - but War defies the expected. It always has, and always will.

From the beaches of Dunkirk to the treacherous slopes of Monte Cassino - this is their story.

WWII AU.

Note: Unfinished

#cherik #cherik fic recs #fic recs #asks #earnestly answers #army au #military au #war au #long post

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yourlocalfictionalenthusiast · 3 years

Text

IN LIFE, IN DEATH...

PART FOUR

Pt1, Pt2, Pt3

Warnings: fighting with parents and some swearing

---

The bright sunlight hit your eyes and you squinted a little as your feet hit the driveway.

Julie’s song was still playing through your head, and so was your conversation with her last night. The passion in her voice when she sang was the same as when she talked about her mom.

You wanted to run in and comfort her somehow, but Luke seemed insistent on staying outside, making Alex grumble next to you.

“Dude, why did you stop me? Julie needs a hug.”

“A ghost hug is not the feel-good moment you think it is. Trust me.” Luke said. What Julie needs is some privacy.”

“I think you poofed us out because you can’t handle when other people cry.” Alex waved his finger in Luke’s face, making you frown at his words.

It wasn’t a secret that Luke wasn’t the best with feelings, but he had always been there for you. Last night in the darkroom, and again at the diner, and countless other times.

“I should know,” Alex continued, gesturing between Luke and Reggie. “I cried in a room for 25 years, and I didn’t get a single hug from either of you.”

Reggie sighed, opening his arms. “Bring it in.”

“Don’t touch me!”

“This is why no one but (Y/n) hugs you.” Reggie mumbled as you rubbed Alex’s arm.

“Okay.” Luke interrupted. “So, once we get the courage to go in there, we should ask Julie why she lied about playing the piano.”

Alex shrugged. “And maybe tell her how amazing she is?”

You nodded and Reggie exclaimed. “She’s legit! I got ghost-bumps.”

Just then, the gate leading to the house swung open and a girl made her way down the pavement. As she got closer, you could hear her sobbing quietly.

“Oh no, was she crying too?” You asked as the girl entered the garage.

“Yes!” Luke shivered. “We definitely can’t go in there.”

“No, but we can listen.” Reggie ran towards the door, standing on his tip-toes to peek through the window.

“Guys! We can’t eavesdrop, that’s creepy!” You whispered, but the boys ignored you and crowded the door.

Seconds later, they all ducked to avoid being seen and you couldn’t help but be curious. So you ran over and squeezed yourself between Luke and Alex.

“I’m not okay!” The other girl shouted. “You got kicked out of music! I’ve been up all night thinking about what I was gonna say, and I might’ve had seven sodas but I need to get this out.”

“Flynn-” Julie started but Flynn shook her head and started ranting.

“Jules, if you leave the music program, we’ll be apart forever. Sure, we’ll see each other in the hallway sometimes but we’ll make new friends.”

“That’s not true.” Julie said.

“You’re right, I won’t make any new friends. The only time we’ll contact each other is by liking each other’s posts on Instagram. Every time I hit that little heart, mine will be breaking because my best friend left me.”

“What’s Instagram?“ Alex whispered to you. You shrugged, making a mental note to ask Julie later.

Julie sighed. “I just played piano and sang again.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was trying but then your seven sodas kicked in.” Julie laughed.

Flynn squealed. “I’m so happy for you! Look at you, looking all alive again. What made you play again?”

Julie slid her mom’s song across the piano to show Flynn and you couldn’t help but smile. You obviously hadn’t known Julie for long, but you were so happy that she reconnected with her mom and music.

“I was so scared to play it, cause everything having to do with music reminds me of her. But I woke up this morning, realizing that’s exactly why I should play it. To keep her memory alive.”

“We need to tell Mrs. Harrison that you can play so you can stay in the music program. My girl’s back! Double Trouble lives again.”

“Not our band name.” Julie laughed as the girls started walking out of the garage.

“Shit, she’s coming!” You whispered. “Act natural.”

You and Reggie sank to the floor, Luke leaned on his arm and Alex pretended to inspect the light hanging above you. Julie made eye contact with you and smiled.

“Oh, hey!”

Flynn turned around and watched Julie expectantly. Julie laughed awkwardly and started skipping down the driveway.

“Let’s hustle!” She grabbed Flynn’s arm and started walking up the stairs, waving goodbye.

“We weren’t listening!” Reggie said, earning a pinch on the arm from you and a kick to the ankle from Luke. Julie started swatting the air, trying to play it off like there was a bug, and pushed Flynn up the stairs.

As soon as she was gone, you made your way back into the garage. You sat at the piano bench, mindlessly playing the few chords you knew.

“I wonder why Julie didn’t tell us she could shred on the piano.” Reggie said.

“It probably has something to do with her mom.” You guessed, your fingers gliding across the keys.

“Yeah, that must’ve been hard.” Alex added before climbing up to the loft. “I really feel for her.”

“Yeah, but now she’s got music back in her life. Just like us.” Luke said, reaching over and hitting the note next to your finger.

“Yeah, I’m not sure you can call what we have a life.” Alex said and you snorted. “Hey, I think some of our old clothes are up here.”

He threw down a black trash bag filled with clothes and you sighed in relief. The night you died, you wore a plain pair of jeans, and your favorite old t-shirt of your dad’s. You usually wore one when you played a gig, so that a part of him could be with you in some way and of course; Luke’s jacket.

And as much as you loved your outfit, being in the same clothes for 25 years was not exactly sanitary, even by ghost standards.

“Sweet!” Luke exclaimed, taking off his shirt.

Shit!

You tried as subtly as possible to look away before anyone saw the blush on your cheeks, and you thought you had gotten away with it until Reggie laughed from across the room.

You sent him a glare, but that only made him laugh harder.

Suddenly, the studio doors opened again and Julie’s dad came in. He had a sad look on his face and a camera in his hands. It had ‘Ray Molina’ engraved on the handle so you figured that was his name.

The man walked right through Reggie, making him shudder. “That was weird. But somehow I can tell this man has a kind heart.”

“So, how have you been?” Ray asked, his voice heavy.

“Honestly, not that good.” Reggie said and you rolled your eyes. “See, we ate these hotdogs and-”

“Julie sang for the first time again this morning.” Ray took a picture of the room. “She hasn’t done that in almost a year. You would’ve loved it.”

“Yeah, we heard cause we-.” Reggie wiggled his fingers in front of Ray’s face. “Oh, I get it. He's not talking to us."

"Dude, you are so lucky you play bass." Luke said.

"I think he's talking to Julie's mom." Alex sighed.

Ray started walking towards the piano. "She's such an amazing young woman."

He started running his hands on the keys so you slid off the bench. You knew you definitely shouldn't be listening, this was definitely not something you weren't meant to hear but you couldn't help your curiosity. "Everyday she reminds me more and more of you."

"Called it!" Alex cheered.

Ray shifted the camera between his hands. "I'm taking pictures for the real estate website. I don't really wanna move, but...it's what's best for Julie."

Alex came down from the loft and you all crowded around the piano. Luke stared at Ray with wide eyes. "Move?"

Ray gently played a few notes of a ballad before he spoke again. "There's so many memories out here. Like, Julie sitting next to you and Carlos trying to sing with his missing front teeth."

Luke let out a shaky breath and you realized he was crying. It wasn’t until a tear rolled down your cheek that you realized that you were too. You frantically wiped your eyes, doing your best not to break down.

Ray was exactly what you always pictured your dad used to be like, and his love for Julie was exactly the same kind you knew he would've had for you. Thinking about your dad made you think about your mom, and that made trying to stop crying a whole lot harder.

"Come on guys, not you too." Reggie said.

"It's just...he's talking about moving but the poor guy doesn't wanna move." Luke sniffled.

Ray stood up and took a picture of right where you were all standing. "It's like they grew up out here."

Reggie fanned his face. "Now he's got me too."

Alex scoffed. "Okay, how am I the emotional one?"

"Can we go see my family? See how they're doing?" Reggie asked, his voice shaking a little.

You nodded. “Yeah, listening to this doesn’t feel right.”

Just as you go to leave, Ray laughs. "Remember when the kids were at your sisters and we came out here on our anniversary..."

"Yeah, no! " Luke cringed. "Definitely wrong.”

The beach was where you spent a lot of your free time when you were alive.

Usually after a long day when you just needed a place to work on new lyrics in peace. But sometimes after playing all day at the pier, the boys would drag you down to the water and you would all stay there as long as possible. Away from parents and responsibilities.

But just like everything else, it had changed so much.

"A bike shack," Reggie sighed. "Right where my house used to be."

"I'm sorry, Reg." You rested your head on Reggie’s shoulder.

"Why couldn't they at least have turned it into something cool like a pizzeria or something?"

"They tore down the whole neighborhood." Alex said.

"I guess my folks are gone."

Alex kicked his foot into the sand. "Everyone's gone. Twenty-five years, gone. Friends, family, Bobby, everyone."

That was another person you hadn't wanted to let yourself think about. Even though you and Bobby weren't super close, he was still a part of Sunset Curve. He could be a little bit of an asshole sometimes but he was still your friend.

"Bobby, that's right." Reggie said. "Guess that vegetarian lucked out. Wonder what happened to him?"

"He probably just got old like everyone else and moved on." Luke grumbled.

"Dude, how are you so chill about all of this?”

“Yeah, don’t you want to figure out what happened?” You asked.

“Let’s be real for a second.” Luke exhaled, clearly getting worked up. “It’s not like any of us were close to our families. My parents always regretted buying me that guitar. Reggie, your parents were literally a fight away from divorce.”

Luke ran a hand through his hair as he ranted, talking with his hands the way he always did when he was upset. “Alex, I- Your parents were never cool again after you told them you were gay.”

His eyes landed on you and he seemed to ease up a little. “(Y/n), you practically raised yourself since your mom was gone all the time.”

“Yeah, okay.” You said. “None of us had it great.”

“But at least we had something! What do we have now?” Alex shouted. “And before you say cool teleportation, I’m not cool with that either. It tingles. In weird places.”

Luke sprang to his feet. “I’ll tell you what he had. It’s what we’ve had since the day we came together. Guys, we have us. We’re the only family we’re ever gonna need. You wanna know what else we got?”

��I’m gonna guess death breath?” Reggie said.

“Our music, you dork.” Luke laughed. “People can hear us play again! They can’t see us, whatever, but they can feel us. I wish I had my guitar.”

Suddenly, the air around you made a sharp ‘whoosh’ sound and Luke’s six-string appeared in his hands.

“Whoa.” You said.

“How did you do that?” Reggie asked.

“I-I don’t know. I mean I wished for it and then...” Luke played a few chords and beamed.

Reggie jumped in place with his arms open, trying to wish for random things before he eventually gave up and slumped into the sand.

“I think I know what will cheer you up.” Luke said. He played the opening of ‘This Band Is Back’ and you couldn’t help but smile. Out of all the Sunset Curve songs, this was one of your favorites.

“Come on, Reginald.” Alex said as he started hitting his legs and chest to make a beat.

You offered Reggie your hand and pulled him up as Luke started the countdown. Reggie took it and twirled you around, effectively getting sand in your shoes. You laughed and spun him around before dragging him up to the tables in front of the restaurants as he sang.

The people around you seemed confused by the sudden music, but they danced around anyway. You forgot how much you loved seeing people react to your music. Watching them dance and smile made all your worries float away, even if it was just for now.

And for the first time since the Orpheum,

It really did feel like the band was back.

August 1994

It was just after sunset when you called the Patterson house.

The sound of your mom slamming the front door was still fresh in your mind and before you could stop yourself, your fingers were flying across the buttons. Luke was the only person who knew about your relationship with your mom.

You didn’t want to worry Cece, or Alex, or anyone else. But hiding things from Luke wasn’t easy, especially with how stubborn he was. So you told him everything, and he told you,

‘Call me next time, okay?’

The line only rang twice before someone picked up. “Hello?”

It was Emily, Luke’s mom.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep from crying. “Hi, Mrs. Patterson.”

Emily laughed and you could practically hear her roll her eyes fondly. “(Y/n), sweetie, what did I tell you about calling me that?”

Even though you and Luke had been friends most of your lives, you had only met Emily a handful of times. Luke didn’t really like hanging out at his house, especially when he started fighting with them regularly. Still, Emily always treated you like her own kid whenever you were around.

“Sorry, Emily.” You said. “Is Luke around?”

You heard some shuffling as she called out for him and after a few minutes, Luke picked up the phone. “Hey.”

“Hi, are you busy?”

“No, why?” He asked.

“Well, I made enough cookies to feed a small country and my mom’s gonna be gone for the night so I thought we could hang out.” You rambled. “Maybe finish ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark?”

Luke laughed excitedly. “Yeah, sure! Give me like 20 minutes.”

Luke’s laugh was so infectious that you had to fight through a giggle. “Okay, see you soon.”

As you went to hang up, you hear Emily’s voice again. She was teasing Luke about something but all you caught was the word ‘Girlfriend’, making you turn bright red.

You put the phone back on the hook just as the oven beeped to signal that it was ready to bake the cookies. You put them in the oven and turned your attention to the huge bowl of cake batter in front of you. At this point, there wasn’t anything left in the kitchen you hadn’t baked.

There was no way you would be able to eat all of it, even with Luke’s help. But you needed something to distract yourself to keep your mind from overloading.

True to his word, Luke arrived twenty minutes later, bursting through your front door and screaming the Indiana Jones theme song at the top of his lungs. He skipped his way into the kitchen, immediately sensing something was wrong when you didn’t join him or even acknowledge his presence.

“(Y/n)?” Luke approached you slowly.

“Hey.” You tried to sound as casual as possible, not looking up from the bowl. “So, you ready to finally finish this movie?”

Luke didn’t say anything as he scanned the kitchen. There were piles of cookies and cooking utensils all over the counter, and you had flour in your hair. You could see the realization flash across his face through your eyelashes.

“Okay, you’re baking everything in the house, which can only mean one of two things,” Luke said, his voice becoming more serious as he jumped up on the counter. “You either watched Sixteen Candles unsupervised again or…”

You stayed quiet as you slowly stirred the batter. It was ready to put in the pan ten minutes ago but you needed something to do to distract yourself.

Luke’s hand gently gripped yours before taking the spoon from you and letting it fall into the bowl. You looked up at him to find him already staring at you with a furrowed brow.

Damn it.

You should’ve known he would see through your thinly veiled excuses and promise of cookies. Luke was more observant than people gave him credit for.

“C’mere,” Luke said, opening his arms. You moved between his legs and buried your head in his chest, covering his shirt in tears, flour, and batter. But he didn’t seem to mind as he rubbed circles into your arm with one hand while the other cradled your head.

“She hates me.” You said through a deep, shuddering breath.

“She doesn’t hate you,” Luke reasoned. “It’s impossible for anyone to hate you.”

One of the things you loved about Luke was his protective streak when it came to his friends, and the way that no matter what, he could only see the best in them.

And as his best friend, you were pretty much perfect in his eyes. Which meant that when you didn't immediately agree, Luke launched into a rant.

"First of all, you're like the smartest person in the world. You manage to get good grades while also working at the diner three days a week which is nuts.

Secondly, your voice is insane! And your lyrics, (Y/n), we wouldn't even have half the Sunset Curve songs without your killer songwriting skills!"

"You done, Lu?" You joked as you pulled away just enough to look up at him, trying not to blush. No matter how hard you tried to play it cool when he complimented you, it always made you melt inside.

"I'm just saying," Luke laughed softly. “You are literally the best person I know, Squeaks.”

You let out a watery laugh at the mention of your childhood nickname. It was one that Luke had given to you in 4th grade after he put a bug on your arm and you had squeaked in fear.

“And just think,” Luke whispered, his voice sounding a little wistful. “One day, we’ll get signed to a label and end up somewhere far away from here.”

“We barely started making our demo.” You said, making Luke scrunch his nose in the way that always made you giggle. "Don't you think you're getting a little ahead of yourself?"

“Nope.” He smirked. “Okay, I gotta ask, were you planning on baking this or is this a new look you’re going for? ‘Cause I gotta be honest, it’s not your best.” Luke said teasingly as he swiped some batter from your cheek.

“Oh, really?” You asked, dipping your finger in the bowl and smearing the batter across Luke’s face, making him gasp. Then you took a slight step back and hummed thoughtfully. “Definitely looks better on me.”

“You know what?” Luke scoffed, trying to hold back a smile and before you could blink, he reached into the bowl and flung the spoon at you, splattering your shirt. “I think you’re right.”

“Jerk!” You laughed, wiping off your shirt as Luke tried to lick the batter off his chin but he only managed to make an ever bigger mess.

“Did I get it?” He asked, making you giggle.

“Not quite.” You reached forward and carefully wiped it off, desperately trying to focus on anything other than how close your faces were. But it was impossible when you could feel Luke’s breath on the tip of your nose. “There.”

Luke’s face was unreadable as he looked down at you. The playfulness had evaporated in the air and was replaced with something else that you couldn’t really read either. Just when you thought the moment would last forever, the timer for the second batch of cookies rang through the kitchen, and you practically bolted to the oven.

You pulled them out and put them on a plate. “So, you know that we have to watch Sixteen Candles now, right?”

Luke groaned, pretending to be annoyed. Even though he would never admit it, you knew he secretly loved romance movies. “Fine, but Raiders of the Lost Ark after?”

“Deal.”

As Luke went into the living room to start the movie, you sighed to yourself. Maybe you would never have a normal relationship with your mom.

But you had your band, your friends, and even if it wasn’t exactly in the way you wanted;

You had Luke.

In Life, In Death Taglist:

@ifilwtmfc @instabull @wanniiieeee @tenaciousperfectionunknown @nxacomposts @merceret @itismeasmolpotato @lilostif16

JATP Taglist:

@caitsymichelle13

Let me know if you wanted to be added!

#luke patterson #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #julie molina #Reggie Peters #Alex Mercer #jatp fanfic

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lemon-boy-stan · 4 years

Text

end scene - finn wolfhard x reader

The reader is filming a deleted scene which sparks trauma. Warnings: SUPER ANGSTY LIKE SERIOUSLY, crying finn, mentions of death, mentions of sex (at the end), abuse, mentions of alcohol and swearing. And also long paragraphs. Lower case.

finn was the only person who knew about your trauma and cared - your mother had a boyfriend and moved on.

the car crash was your burden and catalyst to your inconsistent episodes which was why, every time you rehearsed the scene with him, finn made sure you were okay and that you knew he didn't mean it.

millie was good at being dead. she'd lay there, under the rubble, not moving a limb - she looked so lifeless like that that you were positive a passer-by would rush over to help her.

except there were no passer-bys, just you, your boyfriend, cast and crew and the CGI.

but yet it still looked so real - and it reminded you of her that much - of the car, the crash, the rubble, debris, anger that left your father's mouth afterwards, the deafening silence of your mother who stood and watched in the hospital...

mentally, you forced yourself to shake it off. the memory had obviously tuned the other cast members out.

"it wasn't her fault!" noah screeched - finn appeared to be approaching you, a look of mad and sadness in his eyes (which did not seem to be for you but hurt you anyway) kindling dangerously.

"we can still save her," he turned back from you to her "dead" body, "we can still save her! nancy! nancy. do you know cpr? does anyone know cpr? steve? johnathan? even you, billy?"

"even you?!" sadie shrieked. darce shot her a look and shook his head as if billy was telling her to pick her battles.

"anyone?" finn talked over her. "please. someone help me! she can't die here. she won't die here! i won't let it!" his words and voice were exactly the same as every other time you rehearsed it alone.

you continued to stare at the nothingness that wavered around him as natalia and everyone else remained quiet.

finn darted to you with the corner of his eye before recovering again, "we can still save her!" the rest of the cast waited.

'we can't', mouthed charlie, you'd forgotten your line by a beat. SHIT. finn frowned - something was fishy.

"we can't," you said softly, quickly. finn exhaled invisibly and silently. "f - mike. mike, el said - she told me - she said she was sorry and she said she - "

he cut you off just like every other time, "what good," he began, breathing through his nose, "is an apology," silence, the rest of the cast who were watching liked it, "if she's dead?! please! someone help me!"

no one helped him.

"come on," he begged the world, "come on. el. el. wake up. wake up. wake up!" he shook millie's body as if shaking a dead person would wake them up, kind of like how your father shook your sister in the hospital bed even though the nurse said that shaking her would make things worse.

"el," he choked back, "no. el. el." the fake tears hurt you more than they normally would have.

finn was your boyfriend and you could normally tell the difference between his fake and real emotions and for some reason you couldn't today.

after finn finished crying, he stroked her lifeless hair just like every other time and just like the time your father stroked your sister's before he turned to you.

"YOU were supposed to save HER," he spat the words viciously like every other time, eyes flicking over you with assurance. "but SHE saved YOU! she wasn't supposed to save YOU! you were supposed to die, you were supposed to die! the mindflayer was supposed to get YOU but it got HER! you're not even sorry! none of you are sorry! because if you were sorry, YOU would be DEAD and SHE would be ALIVE!"

you couldn't tell at the time but the words hurt him, too.

"it doesn't work like that!" noah screeched. "she was here first, anyways! she's my sister! eleven understood that so why can't you, mike?!"

"i told you to come up with another plan," he hissed at you, ignoring noah, "but you didn't! you let her die! you let her die, belle! you're a bitch and you let her die!" he yelled over noah.

"i'm sorry," you whispered, to which gaten and the rest of the cast wore a look of amazement - you hated improvising.

finn frowned slightly before going along.

"you're not. fucking. sorry. do you know why?" he waited.

"mike," natalia cut in.

"BECAUSE YOU WOULD BE DEAD! YOU STUPID BITCH, YOU WOULD BE DEAD! BUT YOU KILLED HER!"

"no, she didn't! don't call her that!"

that was the first - and last - time finn had ever called you that or yelled at you. you froze.

"i'm sorry," your lip shook - you didn't have a line just then but the crew liked it. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry,"

"it's your fault she's dead, y/n! you stupid bitch! you killed her! you killed your sister! do you know why you killed her? because you're a mistake! and a murderer! you fucking killed her, you stupid bitch! you can't do anything right, can you, you fucking brat? i saw you yelling at her! 'hurry up, izzy, i'm going to be late!' i told you not to go, didn't i? i told you she can't fucking drive in the fucking rain because she's bipolar and fucking crazy! but you're a brat, y/n, and it's going to be the end of you and everyone around you and even that finn boy, i don't give a fuck how much fucking money he has because you're going to blow him up too like the bomb you are! i don't give a shit how many fucking fans you have, do you hear me? because you. blew. her. UP!"

the nurses stared.

one turned to your mother in her stupid ninties pink dress and pearl necklace as if to say, 'aren't you going to do anything?' but she didn't, she pretended as if everything was fine.

"i'm sorry," you bit back the tears. "i'm sorry,"

"you aren't sorry! because she's dead! you aren't sorry! you're just a bomb!"

you bit your cheek harshly - no one else besides finn noticed.

"i'm sorry," your voice shook, "i'm sorry i killed her i'm sorry i'm sorry please don't - please i'm sorry,"

the crew started giving you looks - knock it off, it was starting to get weird and they didn't want the audience to hate your character.

but you couldn't help it. you didn't want him to hit you and you didn't want the people in the hospital to stare.

but you weren't in the hospital, you were on set, and he wasn't with you, it was finn, but same difference.

because maybe if you said sorry more maybe finn wouldn't unlove you like he did, maybe finn wouldn't hit you like he did.

"i'm sorry it's my fault i'm sorry i'm sorry,"

finn's breath hitched and his adam's apple moved before something washed over him - recognition.

you see, the endless trails of apologies had happened once at his house at night.

"wait!"

gaten threw his arms up at the outburst and the rest of the cast looked dissappointed. this scene was such a good trope for the love triangle between mike el and belle.

"wait - just - just cut. please. she's not acting, i swear this has happened before and i can help her please," he was begging now and the crew sighed and grumbled - everyone was human.

"alright, that's a wrap, we'll film again in a half," they began to leave.

"i'm sorry finn i'm sorry i kill - "

"baby, stop," he put his hands on your shoulders but you just shook your head and kept saying the words anyways, "baby! you don't have to apologise for anything, baby, you didn't kill anyone,"

"but i did kill her, finn!" you sobbed, "i killed her. "i killed my sister because i'm a stupid bitch and a brat who made her sister drive her to her friend's house in the rain," you bit your cheek until there was blood,

"i'm a mistake, finn, i'm sorry i'm a fucking bitch, and i'm sorry i killed them. just please, please don't unlove me, please, everyone who's loved me's unloved me, please i swear i'll do litera - "

"baby, what?" he looked like a puppy who'd just been told off, "why would i unlove you?"

"because i can't do anything right," you shook your head, "and you have to unlove me even though i don't want you to, finn, because i'm a mistake and i'm a fucking bomb, and a bitch. but please, please, i'm sorry, i can't - i can't lose someone else - "

"you're never going to lose me, baby," he whispered. he was shaking, "and you're not a bomb. oh, fuck, the last thing you are is a bomb, y/n. this isn't bullshit. i love you too much to give you bullshit. if he told you that, let me tell you this: you. are. not. a. bomb, baby. you're mine, the farthest thing you are is a bomb, you're a band aid, and a lifeline. you're never going to lose me, i promise i promise."

"but finn," you said, "don't you get it? i'm not a band aid or a lifeline, i'm a bomb. i will blow you up if you don't leave me before you can even though i don't want you to leave me because you're the only person- "

"and i'll keep being the only person," he talked over you and it frustrated you to even more tears, "i don't care if you blow me up. heck, you blew me away the first time. besides, so what if you're a murderer (which you aren't baby it was a fucking accident and he needs to get that through his fucking skull)? i hate myself for bringing up the stupid movie you love y/n but i don't give two shits what he says you've done because a) i know he's a drunk bastard and b) i will always love you baby more than rose loves leo baby i'll always come back to you, always, i'm going to marry you when my parents let me get married and i'm going to always come back to you even if you yell at me to get out because you're my fucking bomb, do you hear me? you're mine and you're a bomb. so what? you're a good bomb."

"please don't unlove me,"

"baby i'll never unlove you ever ever,"

"promise?"

"yes baby i promise y/n i promise just please tell me you're okay and tell me when you're not okay because it kills me baby it kills me so much,"

"okay finn," you mumbled; you didn't want him to cry anymore, "i promise. i'm sorry for ruining the scene," you looked down at your hands.

"hey," he said firmly, lifting your chin up so you were forced to look at him, "scenes can be re-filmed but i'm going to ask them to film a different one okay? but for now please just tell me you're okay baby,"

"i'm okay finn," you sighed. "sorry you had to put up with that and sorry i made you feel shit,"

"you know you make me feel lots of things n/n," he whispered, "and shit is one of them. and i wouldn't have anyone else make me feel anything else, 'cause i love you. even if you blow me up i love you okay? even if you crash me i'll still love you from hell 'cause we all know that's where i'm going..."

"are you talking about the other night?" you looked up, "because the feeling was totally mutual finn we both wanted it you know that don't be a dick,"

"there she is. also, yeah, that night and that time noah walked in on us jesus," he smiled and hugged your neck, "okay, okay, i love you though y/n. god you have no idea how much i love you..."

"i think i do," you replied softly and he smiled into you.

So this is super long but oh god guys I'm still in love with it ahh...

MASTERLIST - requests are ALWAYS open (depending on what fandom it is!)

#finn wolfhard #finn wolfhard gif #finn wolfhard angst #finn wolfhard x reader #finn wolfhard x reader sad #finn wolfhard x reader abused #finn wolfhard x abused reader #finn wolfhard x reader angst #finn wolfhard angst imagine #sad finn wolffhard imagine #richie tozier angst #mike wheeler angst #stranger things #boris pavlikovsky imagine #miles fairchild angst #finn wolfhard x reader anxiety attack

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trevor-wilson-covington · 3 years

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What could have been...

//Saw that the site I use to make mood boards has a CD Cover option and thought it would be fun to do Sunset Curve’s Demo and Unreleased Songs (+Home Is Where My Horse Is) as they would look as singles!!! I may make CD Covers for the other 13 songs in the show...if people end up really liking these ones and if inspiration strikes!

**Gave an idea of what I think the other 7 songs would be about/why they were written (said what we know Unsaid Emily, Now or Never, and Home Is Where My Horse Is are about already of course too)!!

1. Unsaid Emily: Is of course about Luke’s rough relationship with his mom, which was never resolved before his death. It touches on how he knew he should have turned around and come back home but his pride stopped him. All the conversations he had created in his head about what they would say to each other when he finally saw her again stayed that way, thoughts in his head. Wondering if he had been able to say the right things to his mom or made up with her before dying, would time not have erased the memory of him?

2. Get Lost: I believe it is about the feeling of restlessness and wanting to just take off on an adventure somewhere new or unique. Similar to how Luke finds sleeves (zleeves) restricting, this song is about how life can feel suffocating sometimes and all you want to do is grab a bag of essentials and walk in the mist/ride off into the night to a freer life.

3. Long Weekend: Is about the band’s friendship/brotherhood/sense of found family and how over many weekends they find themselves going through a lot of struggles and heartache together. These are the weekends that feel the longest because there is so much the four boys help each other through and many times they find they don’t want the weekend to end so they can spend more non-band time together to just be four stupid teen boys navigating all the twists and turns of life.

4. Crooked Teeth: My thoughts are that it could have been written when he had braces/a retainer in the 90s & was self-conscious of it, so it was written to cheer Reggie up about his braces/retainer & pretty much say "hey, Reggie...people's smiles vary & they're all unique & beautiful"...instead of mocking him, like the show seems to tell us it was written to do.

5. My Name Is Luke: Is a darker, more introspective song about Luke’s struggle with an identity crisis where he feels he’s being pulled in different directions. One side is the Luke who loves his parents and wants to make them happy and have them be proud of him. The other side is the Luke. who is passionate about writing and playing music, who thrives off the feelings and energies of the crowd as they connect with him and his lyrics. Luke finds he can’t be one version of Luke without ultimately giving up the other and trying to do both is exhausting and soul crushing at times. The title is his way of saying ‘Hey, this is my name, it’s who I am, and I can be a loving son my parents can be proud of while also doing what I love and making a difference in the lives of people who listen to my music’. He just wishes his parents could come to understand that he loves music and he’s really good at it, so why can’t he continue doing it and make them proud at the same time.

6. Now or Never: Is, as we know, about Sunset Curve’s rise to fame and how they can dream as though they’ll never die but they’re going to live their life as though today could be their last day alive. They aren’t looking to the future, because all they need are each other and the energy that is coursing through their bodies in the present. They hear a voice in their heads saying you only have this one life, so make the most of it so when you die you’ll have had no regrets about the things you did or didn’t do. This is their time to shine and even when their lives were bleak or lacking, their days were still the best of their lives because they were making music and gradually making a name for themselves doing so.

Weaved in are of course lyrics that seem to foreshadow their 3 deaths with the mention of shock to their hearts (the defibrillators used to try to keep them alive in the alley or ambulance), clocks moving forward but they don’t get older (how for 25 yrs they were in limbo and didn’t age and are now 17-year-old ghosts in 2020), how they kept on climbing 'til their stars collided (floated up out of the ambulance to the dark place until crashing into Julie’s life (she’s a star as Luke says)), and how all that they left in the past was just the just the key to paradise (all the things they left behind once they died were just ‘stepping stones’ to the ‘paradise’ of heaven for most people or in the boy’s case the path to Julie and playing music again).

7. Late Last Night: Is about the late nights the four boys spent out at clubs/venues leading up to the Orpheum, gigs that helped them gain a decent following, and all the crazy things they saw and did. 17-year-olds out late partying, possibly drinking, on school nights. A higher energy song, similar to Now or Never to match the antics of a bunch of teens practically let loose on the music/club scene during the band’s rise in the Hollywood/LA music scene in ‘93/’94/’95. It evokes the feelings of being wild and reckless as a teen, while also somehow capturing the energy of the nighttime as you move from the crowded main strip into residential areas and how quick and jarring the change can be.

8. Lakeside Reflection: This is a tough one, but I think it would be about the individual experiences most or all of the boys have from going to lakes during summer with their families. There’s of course all the fun time spent with family, but in the reflection on the lake of those moments the boys only see the truth of their family dynamics, what was hidden behind a pleasant façade.

For Luke, it was the strained relationship and fights with his mom over the band and his dreams.

For Alex, it was the looks and offhanded comments made by his parents and the looks of sympathy from his sister, ever since he told them he was gay.

For Reggie, it was the nights spent keeping his brother and sister distracted as the walls practically shook from the volume and intensity of his parents’ almost daily fights.

And for Bobby, it was the truth that he kept up a façade even with the boys so they wouldn’t know that his family, that the others always believed to be perfect, wasn’t perfect at all. When rarely he saw his parents and they weren’t off on business trips or working late into the night, Bobby found them to be disinterested in his life and any affection or love was relegated to a pat on the back or a quick hand held before they rushed out the door once more.

The happy summer vibes at the lake could never truly make any of the boys forget their truths, but at least they could let loose for the extent of their trips and finally feel like a carefree teen again.

9. In Your Starlight: This would seem to be a certain kind of love song at first glance and for some people that’s what it may be, but to me it is a very specific kind of love song. This love song is about relationships each of the boys had, the very few of them, that didn’t turn out well for some reason or another. A passion for music overshadowing the passion to keep a relationship going. The fear of long-term commitment and a short-lived bliss, before the fighting starts, ending the relationship before it ever grew deeper. The smothering of a fire in the soul so outsiders can’t see one trace of its flicker, hidden behind a lie, in case they find out the truth and react with disgust or hatred. Or the overly flirtatious and, at times, clingy antics used to get a person interested in starting a relationship. To keep them invested in the relationship, in an effort to make sure they won’t leave out of boredom or for someone better. This song is from the perspective of those other people, how they saw the relationship, no matter the length, and what they see as the thing that ended it or kept it from growing stronger. How they all in some way felt like they were pulled in by light of each of the boys (the stars) and things were good at first, before the cracks started to appear and reality truly set in.

10. Home Is Where My Horse Is: It’s an expression of where and whom Reggie calls home. The horse had never really stood for an actual horse, but rather it represented Luke, Alex, and Bobby. The people Reggie considered his family, his home, more than he ever would the house he had grown up in. Horses symbolize freedom without restraint, because riding a horse makes people feel they can free themselves from their own bindings. There is no constraining a horse when it runs with the wind, but they also enjoy the company of family and friends. Reggie wants freedom from the stuff with his parents and his own personal demons that keep him held back. He finds with the band, his real family, he can run free and be himself...enjoying being around the boys and not having to worry about fighting and drama. His home is where he (the horse) is... able to be its true self and go where the wind takes it.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #sunset curve #jatp fanart #jatp meta sort of #luke patterson #alex mercer #reggie peters #bobby wilson

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solomonish · 3 years

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you dumb bitch, i loved you! (belphegor & lucifer)

the worst part is i loved you, and sometimes i feel like i still do

when belphegor fell, it felt like everything he loved had been forced inside out and created just to hurt him.

WARNING: (christian) religious imagery and guilt, swearing, brief choking, and my own interpretation of how belphie was forced in the attic.

based off of this song // ao3 link: here!

No matter how hard he tried to forget, Belphegor remembered how passionately he loved the human realm and how his bliss in his old home had been nearly just as strong.

His memories are filled with adventures in the human realm, walking down the streets with Beel and Lilith at his side. Humans liked to marvel at their gradual progress over the centuries, but to an extension of Father himself as everlasting as His love, they seemed to grow and learn at a fascinatingly fast pace. He could walk down dirt paths made only by the constant wear and tear of feet, only to be pulled away by his ear and come back after his punishment to find cobblestone and two-story apartments lining the spot where he last stood. Humans were such darling creatures, bold and brave in their battles yet never losing that adorable haze of ignorance to the greater realms. There was something about them that made him want to work harder to guide them gently on their way - an urge to protect the people who interested him so much, in an effort to maybe let them know just how dearly he loved them all.

When he wasn't wandering the human realm with a wide-eyed wonder, he spent his time diligently working, hoping that he might catch the attention of a certain angel - or maybe get him to admit that his work made him proud. Angels were not perfect, being mere reflections of His grace - if the warped spot in Belphegor's mirror was not his interest in humans, it was the favoritism he harbored for a certain group of angels. His attachment to Beel could be tied to their kindred creation and his love for Lilith a version of the love all senior angels felt for their younger brothers and sisters, but the complete admiration he had for Lucifer was something entirely different. The sentiment was shared by most angels, complementary sighs of Lucifer’s beauty and success floating around any room he was in. But Belphegor noticed the softness Lucifer held for him and the others in their little group - a bond that would not go punished if not boasted about. Fortunately for them, boasting wasn’t in the nature of angels.

There was something about Lucifer that had Belphegor completely enamored. There was something about how he seemed so...brilliant, with magnificent wings and a certain air of vulnerability that made his few imperfections invisible. Not only did Belphie respect and admire Lucifer, he considered him his favorite. If angels were creatures of devotion, Belphegor had no issue devoting himself to Lucifer. It was hardly blasphemous to revere a creature made so as glorious as he.

Perhaps his fault was that he loved Lucifer more than his Father, or his love was too selfish. (He always knew in the back of his mind that his desire to be perfect in Lucifer’s eyes, his desire to hide away with only the seven angels that felt more like his brothers than anyone else, was sacrilegious). But at the end of the day, he had loved Lilith enough to go against Father, and he had loved Lucifer enough to trust in his battle plan. A band of disillusioned heretics was no match for the strongest armies of heaven, and their ideas were destined to burn.

And burn they did.

When he watched Lilith fall out of the clouds, Belphegor felt his heart drop, bile threatening to spill from him as he, too, slipped out of his realm. Plummeting to the ground, seven burning stars on their path to damnation, he was acutely aware of the fire encapsulating him and Beel - and yet the only burning he remembered was from his throat, raw from his screams. Just as quickly as his wings burned up and his halo fractured, all of the joy Belphegor’s life once gave to him disintegrated as well. It was replaced with a hatred just as deep, the comforting warmth turned into a scalding flame that ensured he would never forget what it once was.

The Devildom was hardly a place to fear as much as the Celestial Realm made it sound. Although Belphegor really didn’t experience much of the realm - between grappling with his grief and being lulled to sleep inexplicably most hours of the day, he didn’t have much time to irritate the denizens of his new realm. He accepted what was given to him, the room and the school itinerary, and spent his time in his room, mulling over what fate had handed to him. With no ear to listen, (one unbiased by its own pain, at least), sorrow quickly turned to bitterness. He refused to admit - or believe - that Lilith had been wrong, and a fond part of him that hadn’t yet died was reluctant to blame his past celestial siblings. It was humans who led to his downfall, humans in their stupid, ignorant, arrogant ways. They moved on too quickly, their rich energy a gilded facade that hid just how shallow and stupid they really were. It was their fault - it had to be, because the idea that it could be anybody else’s was far too terrifying to deal with.

Days turned to months turned to centuries, and Belphegor slept it all away. That was easier than dealing with the world. Besides, if what Beel told him was true, Lucifer was taking care of them. They were all in good hands.

Properly adjusting to the world, once he was forced to actually attend school (and regularly, at that! What a chore), wasn’t as horrible as he thought it might be. After all, spending so much time in the personal hell of his own mind meant that mingling with demons for eight hours of the day was a walk in the park. The worst part of his day was the school council meetings, a place in which he only learned he had just before he left to take a desperately needed afternoon nap. The meetings were boring, and he often found himself dozing off during them. It didn’t matter that he wouldn’t be able to offer ideas when he had nothing to offer. Lucifer scolded him, of course, for acting so disgracefully in front of Diavolo. The defensive aura prickling over both their skin made Belphegor shift in his seat, the scowl Lucifer wore like a horrifying version of the firm decision-making face he knew. The fall seemed to have done that to all of them, forcing them all into distorted versions of themselves. That time, he brushed the incident off and made an empty promise not to do it again.

He would do it again, though. There was too much effort in keeping promises.

Sometimes, though, he felt well-rested enough to stay awake during these meetings. He still slumped in his seat, head rolling back and eyes shut, but he was listening intently. It was then that he heard plans were being put forth for an exchange program - were some circles of Hell shut off from the main city of the Devildom?

Lucifer and Diavolo went back and forth, discussing logistics and statistics boring enough to almost put him back to sleep. Aside from an occasional interjection from Satan, nobody really interrupted their little lovefest - until Asmo seemed to perk up and ask excitedly, “You’re considering Solomon?!”

Finally interested in the conversation, Belphegor adjusted himself in his seat and watched Lucifer carefully. He looked worn thing and undeniably frustrated - his fault for working himself to the bone for his dumb little boyfriend - but he still spared Asmo a second to answer his question. “He would be at the top of the list, yes. It isn’t wise to bring in two humans who have no idea what they’re doing.”

Belphegor took care to hide his outburst, but his anger must have been palpable as the two heads of the table turned their attention to him. “How nice of you to join us,” Lucifer said, a hint of something completely unfamiliar underneath his breath.

“Belphegor! What do you think of the program?”

He only stared dumbly, eyes darting between the prince who had done everything wrong and his brother who he thought could never. He wasn’t concerned with revealing that he hadn’t been paying attention until this moment. For a moment, he could feel again, his sloth and hidden feelings doing nothing to dampen the turmoil inside of him. He didn’t miss being able to feel. His blood seemed to burn at his skin, like his entire red-hot soul wanted to explode out of him and destroy the entire city. “That’s what this exchange program is?”

“What’d ya think it was?” Mammon asked underneath his breath. Belphegor ignored him.

“Don’t you remember what they did to us? You didn’t forget, did you? You couldn’t have.”

His brothers either stared at him in shock or purposely looked away, examining the floor absently. Diavolo was the only one who didn’t understand, steepling his fingers in front of him and tilting his head curiously. Belphegor hated it, and fought the urge to leap at him from across the table.

“Lucifer, what the hell? We can’t just make peace with them and pretend that everything is fine!”

“No human is alive from then,” He justified, his voice missing the harsh edge Belphegor expected. Had they been in the Celestial Realm, it would have been soft and comforting, but he couldn’t risk his imposing image, could he? “Peace between the realms could improve life here more than we know.”

“What does he know?” Belphegor shouted. His throat started hurting again, reminding him of things he’d rather forget and forcing tears to prick his eyes. After blinking them away, he turned to Diavolo and started walking towards him. “You don’t know. This is a horrible idea. We can’t let them in.”

“Belphegor.”

“Wait until they tear everything you care about apart and force everyone you loved into people you barely recognize.”

He could feel the awkwardness settle over the room at that, but he also felt hot enough to burn everything in the room with one touch. Maybe that was why he was inching closer to the prince, wanting to burn him, scar him, teach him what pain was because surely he had never felt it if he thought bringing them into the Devildom was a good idea-

Belphegor ran into somebody, and it wasn’t Diavolo. It was Lucifer, who had a warning grip on Belphegor’s shoulders that felt like a plea to back down. Belphegor watched him glance over his shoulder, nodding once at Diavolo. The prince had a firm look on his face, fitting for someone of his status - too bad Belphegor was centuries past giving a shit about any of that. Gritting his teeth at the sight of Lucifer asking for permission, Belphegor tried to shake his hands off of his shoulders.

“This meeting is adjourned,” Lucifer announced, allowing Belphegor to push away from him. He wanted to rip Lucifer’s eyes out of his skull when they settled on him. “We will talk about this when I get home.”

“Like hell we will,” Belphegor hissed, turning to hurry out of the room. He didn’t bother to stop for his bag, just wanting to escape and run.

At the House of Lamentation, Belphegor kept to himself in his shared room with Beel. His twin had the wisdom to keep away for a while, though he did hear the zippers on his bag clink together when Beel dropped it off outside the door. Curled up underneath all of his blankets, Belphegor alternated between willing sleep to come to him or the weight of the covers to crush him. Nothing happened, the adrenaline and resentment coursing through him too quickly. As he held onto himself for some sense of stability, he clenched his teeth so hard his jaw locked. He didn’t know how long he stayed there, curling in on himself like a black hole and wishing he’d burn out, but he didn’t move until somebody knocked on the door. It was Beel again.

“Dinner just ended,” He said lowly. “I know you’re up. You should eat.”

That normally came with a silent I brought you food but I don’t know how much longer I can hold myself back. “Go ahead and eat it, Beel. I’m not hungry.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the door. “...You’ll die if you don’t eat.”

“I’m not you. I can skip one meal,” Another silence, one that gave Belphegor a moment of enough sanity to make a plan. Shuffling, he made his way to the door and opened it, surprised to see Beel still standing there. He was unsurprised to see him with half a phoenix leg in his mouth.

“Sor-” He started, voice muffled by the food. Belphegor put a hand up and walked past him. “Where are you going?”

“Lucifer had to talk to me, remember?” Belphegor didn’t look back, knowing the pained look that would be watching him if he did.

Lucifer knew who it was when he knocked - hell, he probably had their knocks memorized at this point - and called for Belphegor to come in. Just seeing Lucifer made all the anger come rushing back in a blistering wave, but Belphegor bit his tongue and fought it back.

“I take it, since you came to me, you’ve come to your senses?” Lucifer asked. When he clenched his fists, Belphegor felt the hostile way Lucifer glanced at them.

“What the fuck?” He asked. Unfazed, Lucifer only blinked. “How could you do this? You know what they did.”

“Belphegor, every human isn’t to blame-”

“Of course they are!” Belphegor didn’t care about how loud he was getting and how quickly he was unraveling. He was angry, and he needed Lucifer to see what he was seeing. “Who else? If she hadn’t fallen for that idiot-”

Cutting himself off, Belphegor clenched his teeth again and doubled over. Was this how Satan felt all the time, so consumed by a rage he didn’t know what to do with? Lucifer hesitated, but his words showed no such remorse. “I know that...it’s hard to believe people who we thought were family would betray us like that-”

“No it fucking isn’t!” When Belphegor straightened himself out and levelled Lucifer in a murderous glare, Lucifer immediately stood up. “That’s what you’re doing right now! You’re throwing me under the bus because, what, your prince wants to do something stupid?”

“Belphie,” Lucifer’s voice was softer than he had ever heard since the fall, but the way he squared his shoulders warned him to watch his step lest he step on a landmine. Unlike the spineless demon in front of him, though, Belphegor wasn’t a coward, and he was going to stomp through the field and hope he blew themselves both up. “We can talk about this.”

“They killed her, Lucifer. They killed Lilith, and if you wanted to talk about it, you should have done it centuries ago.”

The silence that followed felt suffocating, hovering with all the pain and anger left unsaid woven between the hesitation. He was stuck in a culmination of atrocities surmounting to their peak, the inevitable fall not finishing on a battlefield in glory but in a stupid fucking office. Belphegor could feel the content of the books surrounding them, filled with the words and law of the creatures he had been taught to despise since day one, one of the only two demons he'd ever truly been able to hate standing in the middle. Shaking with what he wished he could say, Belphegor wanted to prompt Lucifer to say something. He regretted the thought when he opened his mouth.

“I know what you’re about to say, Belphegor. Watch what you say next,” Lucifer said, slowly. Belpheor didn’t doubt that, but he let out a scorned laugh all the same.

“I’ll kill it. Them. Both.” His voice sounded much lower than he had ever heard it, like he was using it to its full demonic potential for the first time. “I’ll kill the human you bring down here.”

Lucifer rounded his desk and stepped carefully towards Belphegor. “Watch it.”

“Anything! Anything to stop this stupid program,” Instincitively stepping back, Belphegore’s gaze unfocused for a moment. “I’ll kill your precious prince, too. This can’t happen. It isn’t-”

All at once, Belphegor’s voice cut off and his back hit the wall behind him. His legs dangled a distance from the ground, and it took him a moment of being unable to breathe to realize Lucifer pinned him to the wall by his neck. He found himself staring at Lucifer framed in an endless black void, noticing a few moments later that he was in demon form and his wings were stretched out. His red eyes were staring through him, as if deciding what to do with the demon hanging limply in his grasp.

Lucifer didn’t give him the luxury of an explanation, instead forcing him down the hall and up the only staircase to the attic. When he was thrown forward, Belphegor felt what little breath was left being forced out of his lungs. He could vaguely hear Lucifer chanting something and bars forcing themselves into place, but by the time he realized what was happening, it was too late. Stumbling to the bars, still uneasy on his feet in his fatigue, Belphegor pressed himself against the bars. Lucifer stood just out of reach, and the thought that it had been like this since they were demons tasted bitter on his tongue.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his voice a harsh rasp. “You’re just- leaving me here?”

It was the first time Belphegor saw uncertainty flicker in Lucifer’s gaze, but he couldn’t find any pleasure in it with metal bars pressing into his face and chest. “Believe me when I say this is what’s best for you,” Lucifer said.

Belphegor didn’t know how long Lucifer was planning to keep him up there, but the finality circling around him was as bad an omen as any. When Lucifer turned to walk away, he began throwing himself against the bars, screaming his protests and promising to find a way out. He couldn’t see the pain on Lucifer’s face with his back turned - but his own angry, desperate tears would have blurred his vision anyway. Still, he wouldn’t resort to begging to be let go, not if it meant accepting a world where humans wouldn’t pay for what they did to his whole family.

For the second time in his life, Belphegor screamed his voice hoarse. For the second time, when he was done, his cheeks wet and body exhausted, he crawled into the nearest bed and lay in contemplative silence. There was one small window in the attic, one he knew he wouldn’t be able to escape from, and from it the moon shone through and painted the otherwise dark room a misty white. He remembered how he had stared at a similar moon and wondered with the humans about what it’d be like to go there, and felt as though he had finally made it there only to realize it was nothing but a dusty rock.

He hated being stuck without his brothers, being able to hear their commotion through the floorboards but knowing they didn’t miss him at all. He hated having so much time left to his thoughts, and it only embittered him more. Most of all, he hated Lucifer, hated how he could so clearly remember how great he had been and how pathetic he turned out to be. The illusion of fallen angels no longer stuck in his mind - he was the complete opposite of his former self, so it only made sense that Lucifer was, too. What once was great and admirable was now nothing short of disgusting, and Belphegor had allowed him to trick him into thinking he might still be worth something. Everything he loved had been torn apart and distorted into a monster even he couldn’t stomach.

How easy it was to be fooled by the things you loved.

How easy it was to fall for them.

#WAS HIT BY RANDOM INSPO AND WROTE THIS IN A FEW HOURS #SRRY 4 SUCK #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #swd obey me #obey me belphegor #swd belphegor #belphegor #mine #belphegor angst #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer angst #lucifer angst #belphegor fic

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akirosama777 · 3 years

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If nothing brings me joy and I always feel quite hollow, does that mean I've died inside already because I refused to follow...

Every person in the world who seems to skate, to flutter by... while the music fills my hollow ears and bleeds from glassy eyes?

Am I worth the amount of energy that I never seem to have, while the mother I once called a friend goes out to poison herself and die?

And I stand here in the bleakness of a hollow, brittle world, while I pick up all of the pieces that she left when she unfurled...

I am broken and I'm bleeding... I have nothing left to give, but the love I'd once begun to give, and barely alive to live.

I was beautiful once... I had a dream... had a goal or two in mind... but I'm sitting here in the broken wake that her destruction left behind.

But it began way before my time, began with a little girl... my mom... and her grandpa, such a piece shit, let's called the bastard, "Tom,"

Took from her, her innocence, shattered her life apart, sent her down a road of agony, and her father killed her heart.

When he sent her far away at the behest of a beastly cunt, sent her to a boarding school, a common parental stunt.

And her life began at 11 when she'd had it all ripped away, sent her down that road of agony in blood and tears was paved.

Then at 16 she met a Jewish man, who with her had his way, then abandoned her with two children on one fateful Christmas day...

But she picked up the pieces, worked 3 jobs, she became addicted to a couple of drugs... met my father in a satanic band, acting like a thug.

So when she fell in love with him, got him to change his ways, both of them kicked the drugs they'd started and set out on another day...

She soon became again pregnant with my father's first born son, and he tried to kill the baby, with a doctor... not a gun...

Told her if she loved him badly, loved him half as much as she'd said, that she'd abort that fetus and remove its tiny head.

But she didnt... and he stayed... later giving birth to me... but that's not the last of her children... I was only number three.

Then as I grew he would abuse me, threaten, beat and apparently molest... then she had my little brother but he'd never face these tests...

As I began to mature and grow, I could see the patterns form, and my mind became a labyrinth as the alters would soon be born.

And at 6 I tried to end it... but my little brother was there... just one of the many treasures that kept me from joining the City of Air.

And he saved me... I don't know why, but he removed the chord I would choose... saved me from my madness as the alters began to fuse.

All the while my mother from her past she'd grown quite numb... and my father kept her helpless, kept her silent... kept her dumb.

My older brother fell to drugs and disappeared one day... right around the time, eleven I think, where I realized I'm gay...

And my sister fell to young love, to a man who started fires... and my mother fell to drinking when the divorce set forth in ire...

Sent my sister too to heroin and my mother to her dark, while my brother depended greatly on my ability to endure the harsh...

So I shouldered all that hatred... shouldered all the pain inside... let the alters guide me forward through the labyrinth in my mind.

I pushed forward for my brother until my little sister was born... as my mother found another man who left her completely forlorn.

And another life depended on the strength I'd come to own... after all the pain of a father, who's approval was never shown.

I was broken, I was bleeding, I was yearning for a hand... never found it... never searched, for on my own I had to stand.

Now my brother... little brother, grown and turned into a guy, who too had shouldered pain and suffering likely due to mine.

And my sister, little sister, worst of all had witnessed decay... and was tortured by a mother who'd been through so much hate and pain...

But im here now... for my sisters... for my brothers best I can... all five of me are standing and I've grown into a man...

But I'm broken... fuck... im broken... and my mother now she's gone... left my darling little sister on a strangers dying lawn.

And I'm picking up the pieces... trying so hard to hold me up... trying so hard to remember but the memories are scuffed.

Yeah this story's probably cliche... im sure you've all heard it once before... heard about a broken persona raped and bloodied on the floor...

Yeah, you've probably already heard it... probably seen it on a show... nothing shocks you people anymore, when it's something you already know.

I'm so certain that it's pointless to write these words and cry... while my mothers out there drugging and likely about to die.

And my sister... my poor little sister... all those years I tried to protect... will soon be here to visit this pathetic, broken mess...

And I'm trying to keep it together... to tell the alters to quiet down... in my brief and silent lucidity in a new and peaceful town...

And despite my anger... sadness... despite the insidious voice of pain... I understand why mother did it... though I know it doesn't explain...

But her life was so much harder... she'd had so much love to give... but the entire world around her let her run into their shivs.

So she tried her best at surviving, passed those lessons on to us... taught us how to keep on fighting but never how to trust.

Now I'm married... and I love him... but I'm broken, hurting, mad... at the life they gave my mother and that treatment from my dad.

I'm so full of rage and agony... so full of hope and full of pain... that's why I can't get to healing... why I cry whenever it rains.

And she's missing... my mothers missing... a person who never could refrain... She went out to numb the agony, the voices in her brain.

And... I empathize. I sympathize... I understand those thoughts... im still fighting... im still trying... Im still battling... distraught...

For my sisters and my brothers I have never touched a drug... for my sisters and my brothers I have never said no to a hug.

For my sisters and my brothers I am fighting yet, so hard... to keep my head above the water and stay away from all the shards...

I won't cut myself again... I won't try suicide to commit. I won't do again what I'd tried to do at least five times... maybe six.

For my father I'll keep fighting... I'll keep being a better man... prove him wrong and keep on going... on his grave I'll one day stand.

For my family that was broken... I'll keep searching for our mom... I'll keep hoping she'll find solace deep within her sorrowful song.

Mom if you're out there somewhere breathing, just know I understand and care... Im still your standing pillar, still your darling baby bear...

For my little sister Anna and for Justin im still here... I'll do my best to outlive them and watch them live out all their years...

I will never let this agony... from my health or lack there of... push me down to join the army of the defeated by the drugs.

I will never let this anger, let this rage or let this pain, push me to the point again where I grow more alters in my brain.

I'll keep fighting for my dogs... keep on fighting for my man. Keep on fighting for my sisters... and for my brother's I will stand.

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