#cause that song just makes me think of the churches near my house as a kid that has giant spotlights they shot into the sky

[nocturnalghoul]

What’s a Ghost song y’all love for deeply unrelatable personal reasons?

For me it’s Watcher in the Sky. It comes on and I can smell the humid nighttime summer air from when I was a kid I swear.

[mangosrar]

Always, i will be here.

chris sturniolo x reader

a/n: guys this one is lowkey-highkey sad but i love it so much:(

loosely based off always by Daniel Caesar!!!!

My y/n,

I wonder when i first met you, in a way that was more than just physical. I wonder when a line in a song reminded me of you, or the first time i walked past someone who carried a scent so similar to yours, that i questioned if you had just walked past me, or the first time someone made a joke so good i had to relay it to you later and pretended it was my own.

I always thought that heart break was caused by mean words said so harshly they pierce the soul. But in reality, they’re from goodbyes that weren’t told, kisses never shared and hugs never felt. These are the ingredients of a broken heart and they can never be fixed. Broken beyond repair.

The thing is even if you could go back, you wouldnt belong there anymore. I still perform autopsies on conversations we had lives ago. They could hook me up to a polygraph and ask me if i still love you, i would say no, and the line would jump and stutter in the exact pattern of your laugh. It feels better to die at your hands y/n, than to never have felt them at all. The heart has its own memory, and i have forgotern nothing, so dont set me on fire and act like you're the one burning.

I remember once you told me you killed a plant by feeding it too much water, and now you worry love is voilence and i know i always say you hold on to too much and every time you reply; asking me where you should put it down. This is starting to look like a contest of who cares less but i liked it better when you were on my side. Im afraid i will love you for the rest of my life and we will never be in the same room again, and im worried the amount of time we have left together is limited so please lingre near the door or forget your jacket and come back for it later. Please just tell me that im not as forgetable as your absence is making me feel. You only hate the people you love, and i know i could never be someone you dont like.

But surrounded by the churches and the dirt, i fell in love with you here. I had never told you. I wish i was braver. It's okay to not be who you thought you would be. But now summer is almost over, my feelings didnt change, and you aren't coming back. But always, i will be here y/n.

My Chris,

Christopher Owen Sturniolo, you have siezed my spine, took my bones and left me to melt into a sticky pile of mush where my body used to be.

I have spent half of my life loving you, and the other half figuring out my love for you. If i could write a book on all the things i wished you would have said, i would run out of pages. I feel like a kid at christmas whos been hopelessly dreaming about getting a pony,only to be given socks. I pushed you out and now youre so far away i cant even reach for you. I could call you a hundred names and scream and shout about why you were awful. But where would that leave me. I still loved you. I still have to live with that.

Its like youve taken a part of me and left it where i cant find it. I tried to forgive you, so i could move on, but how is that possible when i find you in every song, every tone, every frequency and every static. My brain cannot move an inch without bumping into some part of you. You are just a burning house that i want to live in, so why can't you let me put you out?

I wish you had left me wondering. I think it would have hurt much less if i never knew what made you fall out of love with me. You held me tight as i weeped like a little girl who had just dropped her ice cream, you kissed the top of my head and rocked us back and forth. You muffled my sobs with your lips. You whispered sweet nothings to me as i cried in your arms. You wiped the tears that fell for the heart you broke. You told me there will always be a piece of your heart that belongs to me. You have stained me. Tainted and bruised my soul. You told me that you’ve never had a love like ours and never will. You said that you’re future wife will know about me. Your kids will learn what love is through the stories you tell them about us. And suddenly, im at the kitchen table. Crying. Wondering what went wrong. But always, i will be here chris.

@christinarowie332 @jcwrites-blog @sturnphilia @biimpanicking @sssturniolofart @lividnity

LMK WHAT YALL THINK!!!!

[goodnightmemes]

TIKTOK SENTENCE STARTERS PART 6

some of these are quotes from tiktok creators, and some are from various other forms of media that were popular audios/trends on tiktok  

❛ Guess who didn’t eat me out last night? ❜

❛ I don’t know if I’m on my period, if there’s a star out in the sky that moved too far to the left, or if my brain chemicals just went ‘uuggghhhh’, but I’m sensitive and violent right now ❜

❛ ‘Ugh, why are you girls always going to Target?’ Ta get stuff. Duh. ❜

❛ Don’t act like you’re above wearing a cowboy hat for a tiktok. Oh! Handsome cowboy! Handsome cowboy! ❜

❛ How fucking elaborate do we have to make this fight?? Get down here!! ❜

❛ It continues to redefine ‘family’ as meaning: ‘some dudes who ate at my house’, instead of people you share a bloodline with. ❜

❛ What’s more American in this nation of living paycheck to paycheck than living your life a quarter mile at a time? ❜

❛ You’re gonna fuck the bee?!?! ❜

❛ I need a trenta cup of heavy cream. ❜

❛ If there’s one thing about me, it’s that I’m gonna dilly dally. I am a dilly dally-er. ❜

❛ You’re taller! How fucking dare you. ❜

❛ Santa sent his deer to fuck your shit up cause you’re on the naughty list. ❜

❛ How many times do I have to tell you mind control doesn’t work on me? ❜

❛ I have never seen a creature look more like a rotisserie chicken, and I am including every rotisserie chicken I’ve ever seen. ❜

❛ You can actually have two loving and supportive parents and still end up weird and unstable. ❜

❛ Blaming it all on my father really takes away all the work that I put into making me the worst version of myself. ❜

❛ I want my mom to come home but if I call her and say “mom I convinced myself that the dog is a shapeshifter again.” she’s going to think I’m crazy. I’m not crazy! ❜

❛ Kill me or come cuddle with me, 'cause you’re freaking me the fuck out. ❜

❛ I mean these days I just be wondering like, will I ever feel fergalicious again or is it just over? ❜

❛ If I go missing please do two things: one - check near the parking lot of Sears, two - arrest Billy Ray Cyrus. ❜

❛ Daily affirmation, repeat after me: I am not the bigger person. I am the smaller person, who is prone to pyromania. ❜

❛ Why are they playing Shrek songs in church? ❜

❛ She gave me trauma beyond human comprehension. ❜

❛ Girl if you don’t get your coochie sticks out of the uranium bin… ❜

❛ The children yearn for the mines. ❜

❛ Alright here’s a lesson in physics… that’s not how physics works. What the fuck just happened?! ❜

❛ Run like you’re being chased by the love of your life but you’re not ready to love him yet, you still got some learning to do! You have to love yourself first! ❜

❛ Hate me or don’t hate me, but if you put holy water into a humidifier you won’t have a vampire problem. ❜

❛ Awwwww shit. You don’t know about doing whatever the fuck you want? Damn. I’m sorry. Hope you find that someday. ❜

❛ Shh! Don’t bother me, I’m having enrichment time in my enclosure. ❜

❛ Quite frankly, I don’t care where you taking us, cause anyone with an ass like that gotta be blessed and highly favored. So why wouldn’t I follow gods child? ❜

❛ What the fuck did Dora say? Where are we going? To follow that ass! ❜

[luminouslotuses]

it’s kinda ironic how i have little to no posts about c!beeduo considering they’re literally what drew me into mcyt lmao. so i’ve come to atone for that with a handful of taylor songs that fit them :]

labyrinth

break up, break free, break through, break down / you would break your back to make me break a smile

you know how much i hate / that everybody just expects me to bounce back / just like that

i thought the plane was going down / how’d you turn it right around?

you are in love

buttons on a coat, lighthearted joke / no proof, not much, but you saw enough

one night, he wakes / strange look on his face / pauses, then says “you’re my best friend” / and you knew what it was, he is in love

‘cause you can hear it in the silence / you can feel it on the way home / you can see it with the lights out / you are in love, true love

(+also the and so it goes, you two are dancing in a snow globe, ‘round and ‘round lyric fits them too!)

it’s nice to have a friend

light pink sky, up on the roof / sun sinks down, no curfew / twenty questions, we tell the truth / you’ve been stressed out lately, yeah, me too

church bells ring, carry me home / rice on the ground, looks like snow / call my bluff, call you “babe” / have my back, yeah, every day

feels like home / stay in bed, the whole weekend / it’s nice to have a friend

paper rings

i like shiny things, but i’d marry you with paper rings / uh-huh, that’s right / darling, you’re the one i want

i hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this / darling, you’re the one i want / in paper rings, in picture frames, in all my dreams / oh, you’re the one i want

peace

our coming-of-age has come and gone / suddenly this summer, it’s clear / i never had the courage of my convictions / as long as danger is near

and you know that i’d swing with you for the fences / sit with you in the trenches / give you my wild, give you a child / give you silence that only comes when two people understand each other

but i’m a fire and i’ll keep your brittle heart warm / if your cascade, ocean wave blues come / all these people think love’s for show / but i would die for you in secret / the devil’s in the details, but you got a friend in me / would it be enough if i could never give you peace?

sad beautiful tragic

long handwritten note deep in your pocket / words, how little they mean when you’re a little too late

in dreams, i meet you in warm conversation / and time is taking its sweet time erasing you / and you’ve got your demons, and darling, they all look like me

‘cause we had a beautiful magic love there / what a sad, beautiful, tragic love affair

the alcott

tell me, which side are you on, dear? / give me some tips to forget you / have i become one of your problems? / could it be easy this once? / everything that’s mine is a landmine / did my love aid and abet you?

i’ll ruin it all over (why don’t you rain on my parade?) / i’ll ruin it for you (shred my evening gown) / i’ll ruin it all over (read my sentence out loud) / and over like i always do (‘cause i love this curse on our house)

[johnhardinsawyer]

Two Songs for Two Sons

John Sawyer

Bedford Presbyterian Church

12 / 24 / 23 – Fourth Sunday of Advent – 10 AM

Luke 1:46-55

Luke 1:67-79

“Two Songs for Two Sons”

(Hope-Filled Lullabies)

Are you into lullabies?  Maybe there was a time in your life – fairly early on – when you listened to a lot of lullabies.  Maybe there was a time in your life – twenty to forty (or, maybe forty-eight) years later – when you sang a lot of lullabies.  

We are in the thick of singing lullabies at our house.  Very early on, we sang and hummed “Amazing Grace” to our boys.  Then we started singing “Day is done, but love, unfailing, dwells ever near. . .”  Lately, I’ve been singing, “My shepherd will supply my need. . .” a version of Psalm 23.  In recent weeks, I’ve even sung some “Silent Night, Holy Night,” even though it hasn’t officially been Christmas yet.  

If a lullaby has any kind of purpose, it is to remind someone – usually a child – that they are loved and cared for – by the person who is singing the lullaby.  In our house, we also want to remind our children that they are loved and cared for by God.   

Today’s two scripture readings are not necessarily lullabies.  In fact, they are more songs of thanksgiving and rejoicing, but they are sung with children in mind – specifically, two particular babies.  Earlier in the season of Advent, we looked at the story of Zechariah being visited by an angel in the Temple in Jerusalem and then the story of Mary being visited by that same angel in the town of Nazareth.  The angel Gabriel came, bringing some good news to Zechariah:  that he, and his wife Elizabeth, would have a child in their old age.  And Gabriel came to bring even better news to Mary:  that she would have a baby who would be the son of the “Most High. . . Lord God. . .” (Luke 1:32)

We should note that neither Zechariah nor Mary immediately burst into song, like some kind of first-century Broadway musical.  No, their first reaction to the news of the angel was, “Really?!?  God will cause this to happen to me?!?”  Zechariah went so far as to doubt the angel’s words and the angel made him unable to speak – mute – for nine whole months.  I guess he just needed some time to think, quietly, about the great thing that God was doing.  Mary, on the other hand, said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” (1:38)

For those of you who don’t know the story, Zechariah and his wife, Elizabeth, have a baby boy, who will grow up to become John the Baptist.  When the people in town learn that the boy will be named John, they ask the question,   “What then will this child become?” (1:66). I mean, we know what happens to him.  He grows up and goes to the Jordan River and starts baptizing people and proclaiming that there is someone greater than he who is on the way.  John prepares the way for Jesus.  He doesn’t play nice with the people in charge, either, and gets arrested and beheaded by King Herod.  Jesus mourns John’s death.[1]  All of this and more will happen to the baby that the old priest Zechariah holds in his arms, but Zechariah doesn’t know that this will be his son’s legacy.  All Zechariah has is the hope that God has planted in his heart – hope in all of the potential that he holds in his arms all of the potential that any and every baby holds for the life that lies ahead of them.  

Now, we know that not all babies who are born are given the opportunity to fulfill their potential.  People grow up, they make mistakes, accidents happen, choices lead them down one path or another, and opportunities are denied.  But, we also know that no matter how tragic some lives can be – even the life of John the Baptizer was tragic – each of us is filled with the potential to do good, the potential to live into God’s calling in our lives, the potential to serve, and bless, and love others in ways that are life-giving instead of life-taking.

And so, Zechariah – who is miraculously no longer mute – holds his son close and sings all of his hopes and dreams into the tiny, new, and perfect ears of his baby boy. . .  It is a song, nine months in the making. . . 

“Oh my child. . . what will you become?  Blessed be the Lord God of our people.  God has seen us and has saved us.  God has sent a Savior, so that we would be saved from oppressive empires, and those who speak hatred, and those who do violence.  God has sent a Savior so that we would be saved even from sin and death.  God is gracious and shows us mercy, God remembers ancient promises, so that we might serve God without fear.  Oh, my child. . . what will you become?  You will be a prophet of the Most High, going before the Lord to prepare God’s ways, giving knowledge of God’s grace and forgiveness of sins.  By the tender mercy of God, ‘God’s Sunrise will break in upon us, shining on those in the darkness, those sitting in the shadow of death,’[2] and guiding our feet – one step at a time – down the path of peace.[3]  This is your legacy, my child.  You are my legacy – God’s legacy in this world that needs so desperately to hear good news and be changed by it.  Your name – John – says it all:  ‘God is gracious.  And God will be gracious.’  I have named your past, your present, and your future.”

Now, before you say, “Woah, Zechariah. . . This ain’t no lullaby!  This is a lot of pressure to put on a little baby,” it would be good to remember that Zechariah’s beautiful words are bathing his son with hope – hope that the world won’t always be the way it is, hope that God will come and make things right, and hope that his baby boy might play a small part.  If there was ever a song for us to sing at Advent, maybe this is the one – that the world won’t always be the way it is, that God is on the way, and that we might play a small part in God’s kingdom.   

The kingdom – or empire – of God is definitely on Mary’s mind in today’s second reading.  Once she gets the news from Gabriel, she sets out to visit the mute Zechariah and his miraculously pregnant wife, Elizabeth.  You heard several weeks ago about how when Mary arrives, Elizabeth throws open the door in welcome and the baby in Elizabeth’s womb does a joyful backflip, causing Elizabeth to leap for joy, herself, and shout:  “Blessed are you among women, Mary, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. . .” (1:42). “God is with you, Mary!  God is with me, too!  God is with us!”

According to the story, Elizabeth’s exuberance makes an immediate impact on Mary, And Mary starts to sing:  

“My soul amplifies and intensifies the greatness of God!  I am dancing and singing for joy!  God has seen me for who I am – just a lowly girl in a world where folks like me aren’t seen as very special – and has made me the most fortunate woman on earth.  God’s mercy overflows from generation to generation.  God’s strength scatters the proud and the braggarts God brings down the powerful and lifts up the lowly – knocks tyrants off of their high horses and pulls victims out of the mud.  God welcomes the poor and starving to sit down at a banquet and leaves the rich outside, with hungry grumbling bellies.  God has remembered God’s chosen people and piled up mercy upon mercy.  God remembers God’s gracious promises and makes them come true, forever.”[4]

Now, I know that this does not sound, at all, like a lullaby.  And the song does not even seem to be sung in the direction of the baby Jesus, in Mary’s womb.  But this is a song all about what Jesus will be about – God’s great reversal of the way things are.  God is coming – by way of the humble-and-yet-unabashedly-visionary Mary – to make all things new. . . to make all things as they should be and will be in God’s kingdom.  We who hear Mary’s song all these years later might want to pay attention to her powerfully radical words about the proud and powerful and rich being brought low, and about the poor and the victim and the starving being lifted up.  If we are honest, where do we see ourselves in Mary’s vision of the kingdom of God?  And, if we see ourselves among the crowd that God will one day humble, we would be wise to be humble about that fact. 

When Mary sings her song, it was the response to an answered prayer that people had been praying for generations – as the armies of various empires ran roughshod through the land.  Life was not how it was supposed to be, but God was going to come and make things right.  Mary was the first to know in a deep and personal way that the prayers of all of those people were going to be answered.  In her song, she can’t contain herself.  All of the promises she had been hearing her whole life down at the local synagogue were going to come true.  Why not sing about it?

So Mary sings of God’s holy vision and hope for all creation.  She sings of answered prayers and promises. But I think there is another reason why Mary sings this song.[5]  Her song captures her in a moment in which Mary realized something about herself.  I don’t know about you, but there are some days when I think that I’m not worth all that much – days when things haven’t been going my way, days when someone else seems to have gotten ahead instead of me, days when I haven’t felt as handsome or beautiful or smart or loved as I could be.  Have you ever had days like that?  Someone else is the popular one, the pretty one, the one who seems to have it all together – and not you?  Chances are, all of you have felt this way at one time or another.  

But when Mary sings this song, she sings it at the precise moment when she realizes that God loves her and none of that other stuff matters.  God doesn’t just love her, but “God took one good look at her and made her the most fortunate person on earth.”[6]  And all of a sudden, Mary realizes it is true.  It is all true.  God loves her and is blessing her and she feels it and knows it deep down to be true.

In Mary’s song, and Zechariah’s song, and the song of the angels to the shepherds, and the lullabies sung to a baby born in a manger, we hear God’s hope-filled song to all creation – a song of blessing and promise, a song of all things being made new.  

Jesus Christ is God’s hope-filled song to us.  May we, who place our hope in Christ – we, who would hope to be part of the Body of Christ – be part of this hope-filled song, too.  If we are not singing a song in which our neighbors, and our community, our nation, and world hear that they are loved and cared for by God, then maybe we need to change our tune.  If we are not singing – like Mary – a song of justice for the poor and oppressed, then maybe we need to change our tune.  If we are not singing – like Zechariah – a song of the promise and potential that each one of us has for good, then maybe we need to change our tune.

Friends, we are loved with a deep and abiding love.  It is the kind of love that changes things, that changes our lives, that changes the world we live in.  This is why Mary sings her song and why we are invited to join in.  

God sent Jesus into the world at Christmas because God loves each of us.  God loves you and God loves me and this makes each of us – in our own special way – the most fortunate person on earth.  God loves you, and you, and you, and you, and you. . . all of us.

This is a song that we don’t just need to hear over and over and over until it finally sinks in.  This is a song that the world needs to hear – a song that the world needs us to sing:  a song of justice, and peace, and mercy, and freedom, and answered prayers, and humble service.

May we sing this song – God’s song – not just this day, but always. . . not just with our lips, but with our lives.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

-------

[1] See Matthew 14.

[2] Eugene Peterson, The Message – Numbered Edition (Colorado Springs: NAV Press, 2002) 1408.

[3] Luke 1:68-79.  Paraphrased, JHS , with help from Eugene Peterson.  

[4] Luke 1:46-55 – Paraphrased, JHS, with help from Eugene Peterson, The Message: Numbered Edition (Colorado Springs: NAV Press, 2002) 1407.  

[5] With appreciation to Nadia Bolz-Weber, Accidental Saints:  Finding God in All the Wrong People (New York:  Convergent Books, 2015). 68-70.

[6] Eugene Peterson, The Message – Numbered Edition (Colorado Springs:  NAV Press, 2002) 1407.  Paraphrased, JHS.

[doberbutts]

Do you think you're gonna confront your mom about the whole risking both of your lives because of her religion thing? I totally get not thinking it'd be worth it or just not wanting to or whatever and it's SO not my business if you don't wanna share, but I've had a whole mess of issues with my own mother and I don't think that'd be something I could just not bring up.

I did, once, confront her about this problem when I was much younger. When she chose to ignore and wait and make excuses for why I didn't need to see the doctor. This is, unfortunately, not an uncommon thing for her nor is it really new behavior. I at one point picked the fight that we'd been circling around, when I first got my glasses. I'd been complaining to her for a few years, yes years, that I couldn't see the chalkboard and since my last name is near the end of the alphabet and my teachers all used alphabetized assigned seating, it meant I was almost always put at the back. And they wouldn't move me to the front without parental guidance, which she wouldn't give me because she swore up and down that I could see just fine and that I was just goofing off in class and that's why my grades were steadily failing.

At some point she made an eye doctor appointment for me but not before threatening that I would be in serious trouble if I made her waste the time and money at the eye doctor for me to have 20/20 vision like she swore I had. The doctor at some point made an offhand comment about how my prescription was relatively mild but technically I'd probably needed glasses for at least a year or two and it was also likely the cause of my awful headaches I was having from squinting to see 24/7. I was roughly on the cusp of "legally needs glasses to drive"- could probably pass an eye test without it but....... not without struggling. Of course nowadays I definitely can't.

I chose to confront her after the appointment because I felt both vindicated and also furious that she'd let me walk around in pain and unable to see just because she refused to listen to me when I told her I couldn't see in class.

The end result was with us screaming at each other on the drive home so much that she had to pull into a parking lot and cool off walking around a shop. Her parting words were "if you don't like the way I parent you, then you can go". I waited for her to disappear into the store and then got out of the car, turned off my cell phone, removed the battery, and started walking. I knew where I was and could have walked the rest of the way home. I chose instead to start walking towards a friend's house, a friend whose parents adored me and who I knew would take me in even just for a night while I sorted my shit out with my folks. After an hour or so of venting under my breath as I walked I decided I'd cooled off enough to be safe calling my friend, so I turned my phone back on.

She'd left dozens of text messages and voicemails, starting with her being angry at finding me gone, and ending with her whispering "I'm sorry. Please call me."

I called her and told her where I was. She picked me up and we went home in silence. We haven't spoken about it since. This was just one of many times that I enforced a hard boundary with her and stood my ground when I was about that age. We went through this song and dance with church and religion and Christianity. We did it when I came out. We did it when I told her I refused to go back to my ultra-religious high school. We did it over countless friends of mine that she felt were leading me onto a Godless path. We did it regarding my father's temper. We did it regarding my sister's treatment of me. And we've done it again a few more times since I left, though far fewer and less explosively because she is very aware of why I refuse to live with or near her and she's sad about it and wants to mend the gap.

It may seem strange to an outsider. I do love my mom. I have a lot of problems with the way she ran her household. I am angry at her for some things. But she loves me. She never once abandoned me. She may have done things for stupid and misguided reasons, but never to be malicious. She helped me buy my house, she helped me move in, she helped make the necessary repairs, she paid for a lot of the furniture and other things I needed, hell the last time she visited she filled my entire freezer up with enough meat to last the entire winter. She does try. She wants to be a better parent than hers were, and to her credit she is a better parent than hers were, because her parents were an angry drunk that beat the shit out of the kids and a wife too submissive and scared to stop him.

I don't think confronting her would do anything particularly positive. It's frustrating. She knows I disapprove. I know she disapproves. I doubt we'll ever see eye-to-eye on this issue. But also, she's my mom, you know?

[forgiveness-in-the-misery]

Toki’s Psychological State Through the Seasons

Toki is by far for me personally the most interesting member of Dethklok; I know to some degree he’s deemed as a potentially over hyped character by fans and even the show itself, but there’s countless reasons why people cling onto that character, and they’re good reasons. Even if said reasons just come down to “I think he’s neat.” that’s valid.

For me I am so fascinated with his character development, personality, and the varied chunks of background information we get about him throughout the series. A big part of this character is that when you look at him in season one compared to season four he is very different or at least he appears to be much different. Season one does establish that Toki does have a childish personality, his bedroom looks more like a room for a kid than one for a guy in his 20s. Season one establishes those basic facts about him that do heavily carry out through the show, but also increase as the show goes on.

Toki goes from immature but not overly immature to....a complete fucking wreck by the finale of season four (before Doomstar) and the reason for it is simple; it’s trauma.

Toki starts to act differently in season one after the Dethfamily episode; he spends practically that entire episode in a catatonic state, his parents always looming nearby like figures of danger and doom. After this we do get to him being bitter about being seen as immature and seen as the kid of the band (despite the fact he was barely 16 when he joined Dethklok) and when a charity informs him that a dying girl wants to meet him he turns into a complete prick. He finally comes out of that when he sees a video the kid made of herself singing a song about death and hatred, with that scene we see a small flashback of Toki’s childhood; him about the little girl’s age standing out in the snow staring up at his parents looking confused and a moment later he’s being smacked across the face. 

We could already gather beforehand when we found out he came from a very devout religious sect outside of Lillehammer that his childhood was sketchy, plus how he locked up when around his parents, but seeing the flashback of him being hit as a little boy.....Answers the obvious question of “did they beat him?”

Season one is the least eventful of the seasons. Season two is when shit begins changing drastically.

Season two Toki receives a call to inform him that his father has cancer and is on his death bed, the family and the church wants him to return to Norway to see his father. He acts completely fine about this initially, the phone conversation and the way he announces his father’s terminal illness to the band is as if somebody just asked to borrow his car. When it gets close to time to actually go and when they are in Norway it’s different though; he becomes anxious and clearly uncomfortable, in Norway he stays in town mostly, stalling around places he went to as a kid and a teenager before he ran off to America. 

He does handle his father’s dying well once he finally convinces himself to go inside his house and see him then follow through with his father’s dying request to carry him up to his old childhood home (which goes wrong because his friend’s are dicks.) 

I am not going to go into personal detail at all and my situation was nothing like Toki’s (it’s incredibly rare to hear situations like that anymore), but Toki handling his father’s passing freakishly well kind of was a red flag for me, because I know from my own experiences that when you find out something complicated like a terminal illness or the death of your abusive parent theres’ a chance you may respond way too calmly to it, and then later down the line days or months or years later something will trigger a big reaction to it. Which is what happens.

After handling his dad’s death well we get the most iconic scene involving Toki at that point and honestly still the most iconic; he beats a man to death with his bare hands. The thing that triggers this is a hallucinated image of a rabbit, an animal he associates both with his father and his childhood, the image of it triggers him to fly into an insanely feral blind rage taking it out on a guy who had been annoying him all night. Toki has always throughout the entire series shown signs of being a tad violent, but never THAT bad. Sure he shot down a plane and had accidentally caused a death or twenty (the whole band is, it’s part of the sacrifices to the Gods deal) but we had never seen him before or after that moment beat somebody to death. That is new and it came from a place of pent up....shit. Shit he never worked through and even after that continued to not work through.

Because after this we lead into him worsening further; he begins drinking. A lot. The band consist of dudes with addiction issues, mainly alcohol, but Toki never seemed to drink quite as much as them until after he went feral on that straight edge guy. 

Toki deals with his childhood trauma in several ways:

He drinks. A lot.

He focuses on fantasy and daydreams to keep himself from focusing on his past.

He spends a lot of time with Dr. Rockso who takes advantage of his kindness often, he also spends gross amounts of money bailing his clown buddy out of jail. Constantly.

He occasionally gets violent, but never to the point of manslaughter.

Seasons three and four are when we get fully introduced to Toki acting like a kid more than a guy in his 20s and it makes sense. Toki didn’t have a childhood; we learn that his parents essentially made him into a slave at a young age having him do pointless “chores” like sweeping snow during a storm, carrying stacks of wood much too heavy for a small child, etc. and when he failed to work quickly enough or failed a task they punished him. They punished him by locking him in a shed, they punished him by chaining him up like an animal, they punished him by smacking him, by beating him with a bull whip, and worst of all (who knew it could get worse) they would force him to stay for long periods of times in a deep hole dug into the ground. A hole where he hid a clown doll made of twigs and straw, the only friend he had as a little kid.

From all that we can gather through the show he didn’t exactly have a social life of any kind until his teens, the older he became the braver I think he became, and that was responded to with worse violence from his parents. I think the statement in season one about a vision of father killing son wasn’t totally off, I think if Toki had never run away from Norway that his father would have murdered him. I think his parents knew somehow that he isn’t entirely human, they knew he was something else, and I do think his parents had plans to kill him before he could become “too powerful”. 

That aside though.....Once we the audience as well as his friends find out far more details about his horrifying childhood Toki changes. A lot. He’d already been immature and a tad bit off but he regresses further after that, more prone to depression and outbursts, clinginess, and a need to feel like he’s loved by pretty much anybody.

This is a dude who is about my age that came to the horrid realization that any person or animal he loves will die because that’s his “gift”, the gift of death. He works his ass off to repress and rationalize a brutally nightmarish childhood, and the guys he’s in a band with who he loves and sees as his family....are dicks. We know that when he joined Dethklok before they got famous that they were all close, but when they began becoming popular and became immensely wealthy the others became more focused on self indulgence and power, less focused on this still a child who desperately just wanted a family.

I think a key factor with Toki being the way he is comes down to the band’s “no caring” rule. A rule that only existed because of Magnus. Toki is the baby in a group of people who have known each other for a good while, people who came to an agreement to not give a shit about each other for a reason they never explained to him because it’s too painful for them to think about. I think he always tried to live by that rule of not caring, he tried to bury all the shit wrong with himself the best that he could but he was never good at it. It’s also clear they all care about each other and they definitely care about Toki; Nathan and Skwisgaar often being the most protective of him. 

In season four aka the season where the show becomes less of a comedy and more of a drama with stunning animation. Toki is immensely more immature and awkward, he’s clingy with the band especially where Skwisgaar is regarded. Near the end of season four he’s completely fucked up; he splits his time between Rockso (his comfort object) and Magnus (a father figure to replace Nathan) in the dinner episode which has so much going on in it. So much. Toki is at his lowest point in the series; he shows up late, drunk as fucking hell, shirtless, and covered in bruises and cuts. Rockso is with him and when Charles tries to tell him Rockso shouldn’t be there Toki goes into a full fucking anxiety attack until Charles tells him it’s fine to have the clown there. Toki’s heavily dependent on Rockso by that point; his found family is quickly falling to shit. God knows what kind of shit Magnus might have been feeding him about the band at that point. 

Toki’s entire thing from day one/the pilot of the series is that he just wants a family. When he feels like he doesn’t belong in the one that he found and was taken in by he searches for family in other places, when he can’t handle the memories of his childhood he spirals hard. I understand that the guys didn’t really know how to handle it after they heard about Toki’s childhood so I can’t fault them completely for just.....shoving him off onto Rockso after that, but I still think they should have tried to be there for him more so, more directly. I think an outlet that isn’t a drug addled clown might have helped him in some way, I think if when he’d been a teenager if one of them had found out about his upbringing and just pointed out “that isn’t okay, at all.” then things might have panned out differently. 

Mental regression isn’t uncommon when it comes down to victims of trauma caused by extreme abuse. Especially considering his trauma all occurred basically from the get go; he was a child slave, the closest I would guess he ever got to having a childhood when he was a kid was seeing other kids childhoods. Going into town and seeing kids playing, sneaking into birthday parties just to be around other kids his age, etc. and he definitely was childish as a teenager, but I think he tried to bury that side of himself when his bandmates started teasing him or pointing out how unmetal it all is.....But then a douche bag journalist brought his parents to America, a little girl died, his abusive father died horribly (as he should) in front of him, he beat a man to death (allegedly), etc. 

He spent a lot of years away from all the trauma and the death and the bull shit then suddenly it started piling on top of him again and his escapism was fantasy, clinging onto a junkie clown, partaking in childish hobbies.....because why not? 

Each member of the band suffered some messed up shit when they were kids and it shows in different ways, this is Toki’s way of dealing with it....or not. I’m not entirely sure what his psychological state would be post Doomstar; the way he bounces back from immense trauma makes me think that he would be okay given some time and that’s a safe assumption to make, especially now that his bandmates/family will be there for him the way he needs them to be.

I want to tag @theidiotwiththepaintedface who hopefully will enjoy this painfully long deep dive into a character’s psychology lol.

[five-rivers]

Snow and Song Chapter 5

About five seconds after Danny registered the huge crowd of people gathered in the park (and why were they there?  Had there been some kind of event he forgot about?), it began to snow.   Danny looked around himself in alarm.  He was often insensitive to temperature changes (and a few other things, according to his sister), but it wasn’t nearly cold enough snow.  It was September.

He looked up.  There weren’t even any clouds.  

A snowflake, perfect and crystalline, stuck to his eyelash.  

Alright.  When something weird and unnatural started to happen in Amity Park, usually there was a ghost involved.  All Danny had to do was find the ghost causing it to… snow…

Oh.  Right. He was a ghost that could make snow.  

He was an idiot.  He hadn’t even noticed his core activating.  His cheeks flushed with cold.  This was so embarrassing.

Wincing, he looked back down at the crowd.  Only about a tenth of the people had phones in their hands, winking camera lenses pointed up at him, but that was more than enough.  He felt entirely too visible.  

… Which he could fix because he was a ghost, darn it, something that he kept forgetting about tonight.  Berating himself, he adjusted his visibility down to zero and flew away.  

Almost at once, all the birds took off, the sound of wings obscuring whatever the humans down below were saying.  

Danny didn’t stop until he got home, trailing snow all the while.  He was not looking forward to tomorrow, but for tonight, maybe, he could forget what had happened.  

He went human, phased off his clothes, laid down on his bed, closed his eyes, and started to-

“Maddie!” shouted Jack.  “The ghost-kid is on TV again!  He’s in the park!”

“Oh, good!  Go start up the GAV!  This time, we’ll catch him!  I’ll be with you in a minute!”

Danny let out the breath he had been holding since his dad startled him from his doze in a long sigh.  He resigned himself to being woken up at least once more that night.

.

.

.

The first rays of sunlight filtering through Danny’s window brought with them something that would have chilled Danny to the core if his core weren’t naturally frosty.  

Music.  

He peeled his eyes open slowly, grudgingly, because it was still September, and sunrise was still quite a bit before the time he had to get up in the morning.  Hoping he was hallucinating, he trudged over to the window and pulled back the curtains.

Ah, yes.  He hadn’t quite expected to find a bunch of cultists standing outside his house with a boombox, playing back a rather scratchy version of Tale as Old as Time, but, somehow, he was unsurprised to do so.  What exactly were they attempting to accomplish here?

One of the younger (about six years old) cultists waved up at him.  Resigned, Danny waved back, then let the curtain fall back down.  

He rubbed his eyes.  Normal teenagers didn’t have to deal with cults that worshiped them as a god.  Even that dude from Nazareth was a full adult before he got hit with the heavy stuff.  

(Yeah, because it wasn’t at all a sign of megalomania, mental instability, or good old-fashioned insanity to compare himself to that guy.)

(He didn’t want a cult, darn it.)

What did they want, anyway?

He got dressed and started downstairs.  To his horror (but again, not surprise) he heard more music emanating from the kitchen.  

“What are you guys doing?” Danny asked.  

“Oh, morning, Danno!” boomed Jack.

“Shh, shh,” said Maddie.  “We need to go over that last part again.  There are pancakes on the stove, sweetie.”

“Oh,” said Danny.  “Thanks. But, really, what are you doing?”

“Analyzing the sound patterns of Phantom’s voice!” said Jack.  “We missed it before, but he must have a low-level mind control power!  Just like that Rockstar ghost!”

“Sneaky post-human ectoplasm glob,” muttered Maddie. “That’s how he’s got so many people on his side.  He’s brainwashing them.  But don’t worry, sweetie.  As soon as we figure out how he’s doing it, we’ll be working on a cure!”

“Well,” said Danny, trying not to sound bitter. They had made him pancakes. “That’s news to me.”

.

.

.

Danny stepped out of the house and sighed in the general direction of the cult.  

As always, acknowledging them in any way shape or form proved to be a mistake.  They rushed at him.  

“Daniel Fenton,” intoned today’s leader, a man wearing robes colored in an approximation of Phantom’s suit.  His beard was… interesting.

“What?” asked Danny.  If only there was a way to skip through awkward conversations like this, like there was in video games.  But, no, life was like one, huge, un-skippable cutscene.  Tragic.

“Last night, our Lord Phantom gave us a message. A message, and a divine task.”

Danny was pretty sure he’d remember that.  “What task?” he asked, resigned.

“To spread his word through song!  And you, his prophet, his chosen, his blessed consort, shall reveal his intent upon the stage of the Casper High School Musical!”

“I’m begging you, call it anything but that.”

“We will do anything to make the Casper High School Musical go well!  We are at your command!”

“Please stop picketing my house and harassing me on the way to school.”

“We have fine members of our choir here to audition for you!  Please take word of their worthiness to our Lord Phantom.”

Several of the cultists began to sing.

“Danny!” called Jazz from the driveway.  “Stop feeding the cultists, or we’re going to be late for school!”

.

.

.

“So,” said Sam.  “The Ghost Watch feed blew up last night.”

“I know,” said Danny.  “I feel so stupid.”

“Hey, it’s fine,” said Tucker.  “But we really do have to put some time aside to test whether or not you really do have a pied piper ability.”

“I made it snow while I was singing,” said Danny.

“Ah.  We’ll have to look into that, too,” said Tucker, making a note on his PDA.  “Who wants to bet that the ‘Phan Club’ will try to incorporate last nights performance into the play somehow?”

“That’s not funny,” said Danny, closing his locker. “Guys, what if I accidently mind control the audience?  Or start a snowstorm inside?  The cultists are already on top of this.  They were outside my house this morning.”

“Again?” said Sam, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, again.”

“What did they want?”

“They seem to think that there’s going to be some kind of revelation in the play,” said Danny.  He caught the look in Sam’s eye.  “Sam.  No.”

“Sam, yes.”

“Cults are not a toy,” cautioned Danny.  

“Not the way you’re using them, they aren’t.”

“Seriously, Sam.  No matter how much you want to change the world, do not use a cult to do it. It never goes well.”

“Christianity started off as a cult.”

“And would you say that went well?  I’m asking you this as a Christian.”

“Are you a Christian?” asked Tucker. “I’ve never seen you in a church. Can you go in a church? Have we tested that?”

“I—What?  I’m not a demon, Tucker.  I went to church, uh…  Last Easter. I can totally go in a church.”

“You had to think of that for an awfully long time.”

“What about a synagogue?” asked Sam.  “Or a mosque?”

“I don’t know.  But you’d think that if I could go into a church, that’d mean I could go into the other ones.”

“But what if you couldn’t?” asked Sam.  “Would that mean that religion is more right than the others?”

“Or more wrong,” said Tucker, “since Danny is a good guy.”                                                                  

“I—” started Danny.

“PHANTOM!” screamed Wes from down the hall, interrupting whatever revelation Danny could potentially have had.

“Oh, great,” said Danny.  “I’m not Phantom, Weston!”

“Kids,” said Miss Lyn, poking her head into the hallway.  “Please don’t shout in the halls.  Class is about to start.”

“I have proof, this time!” crowed Wes.  “I have video.”

“Oh, no,” said Danny, with perfectly flat affect. “Are you here to harass me with yet another badly photoshopped, grainy, vertically filmed, twenty-second clip of me ‘transforming’ into Phantom like some kind of anime heroine?”

Wes reared back, face coloring and nostrils flaring.  

Danny would feel worse about what he had said, if half the videos in Wes’s last ‘Fenton is Phantom’ presentation hadn’t been exactly that.  Tucker had made several of them and stealthily dropped them in various chat rooms for Wes to find, as something halfway between a joke and an exercise in misdirection.  

As soon as Wes had included one of those in his presentation, it was doomed to be a laughingstock.  Again, Danny almost felt bad.  

“No!” said Wes.  He puffed his chest out.  “From Ghost Watch!”

“Uh huh.”

“I kind of feel like we’d be hearing about it from more than just you,” said Sam.  

“Yeah,” agreed Tucker.  “If the news decided Danny was Phantom’s dead twin or whatever, you’d think some of his groupies would be swarming.”  He pointed at a pair of Phan Club members who were having a sedate conversation near the water fountain.  “Where are the groupies, Wes?”

“Did you not learn your lesson from the beauty pageant?” asked Sam.  “Or Egypt?”

“I don’t know, didn’t you learn yours from Desiree?”

“Who’s learning what from Desiree?  Because you should ask her for a better naming sense.  I mean, you just copied.  Lame.”

“You’re talking to me about copying?  You vegans are the copiers!  Vegetable burgers, tofurkey, where does it end?”

“With the abolition of the cruelty of MEAT!”

At this point, most people would have started edging away from Sam and Tucker’s patented and infamous meat vs. veggies argument.  However, Wes had long since proven himself to be of sterner stuff, and Danny wanted to hear what he was on about.

“Guys,” he said, “guys, it’s not working.  He’s still here.”

Sam and Tucker turned back towards Wes.  “Bummer,” said Sam.  

“Yeah, Wes, why do you have to be such a bummer?” asked Tucker.  

“Let him speak,” said Danny, magnanimously, twirling his hand.  

Wes glowered.  “Well, now I don’t want to,” he said, mulishly.  

“Come on, Wes, what’s the video, don’t leave us in suspense!”

Wes attempted to glower harder but failed.  Grudgingly, he held up his phone, which did, indeed, play a video from Ghost Watch.  Danny watched himself singing for several long seconds before returning his gaze to Wes.

“I’m not sure what this is supposed to prove.”

“The song, you idiot!  It’s from Beauty and the Beast!  And I know the drama club gave you that music.”

“A movie that thousands of thousands of people have watched and know the music for?”

“That doesn’t matter!  You’re the only one who has any reason to sing it.”

“You mean, other than everyone else in the drama club?” asked Sam, bored.  

“Or anyone who likes Disney?” said Tucker.  

Wes opened his mouth to make some kind of riposte.

The warning bell rang.  

He closed his mouth.  “I’m watching you, Fenton!”

“You and everyone else,” muttered Danny as Wes retreated down the hallway, pointing at him.  

Why was everyone around him so ridiculous?

.

.

.

“We’re doing Snow White, not Beauty and the Beast!” howled Razor, baring his teeth at the hapless Phan Club member that had suggested adding ‘Tale as Old as Time’ to the song list.

“If you guys had taken that bet, I’d have so much money right now,” said Tucker.  

“Students, please,” said Mr. Lancer.  “We can’t have any actual copyrighted music in our play. Not without paying for it.  And I’m not negotiating with Disney.”  He looked into the distance.  “Not again.  Never again.”

Danny did not want to know the story behind that, but nevertheless, he had to ask… “Are you okay, Mr. Lancer?”

“I’m fine, Mr. Fenton,” said Mr. Lancer.  “Thank you for asking.  In any case, my lovely drama students!  Today, we are going to do our first round of auditions!”

“But, sir, we haven’t finished the script, yet!” protested Mikey.

“Right you are!” said Mr. Lancer.  “But I have found that things go more smoothly when we have people already in the main roles.  There’s less… outright sabotage and script jockeying.”

“What does that even mean?” whispered Samhain (aka Kevin) loudly.  

“People trying to change the script to fit a certain person so that person gets the role,” said Paulina.  “Or exclude a certain person.  Which I would never do, Mr. Lancer.”

The covetous glare shot in Danny’s direction indicated that Paulina’s words might have been less than truthful.  

Mr. Lancer chuckled.  “I didn’t think you would, Miss Sanchez!”  He began writing on his whiteboard.  “Now, we already have our Prince Snow White, our Princess Charming, and our Evil Queen.”  He nodded at Paulina as he wrote the roles on the board.  “Now, we need our seven dwarves—”

“Ghosts!”

“Excuse me, yes, ghosts.  Thank you, Mr. Baxter.  Our Huntsman—”

“Or woman!”

“Yes, thank you, Miss Thunder,” said Mr. Lancer. “Huntsman, or Huntswoman.  And… Let’s see…  Snow White’s parents, for the prologue, Princess Charming’s retinue, and… I think that’s it.  Alright, let’s start with the ghosts.”

“Shouldn’t they have names?” asked Mia.  

“Well, sure,” said Mr. Lancer.  “But we can’t use the Disney names.  You’ll have to come up with your own.”

“Phantom!” screamed Paulina.

“Here we go,” said Danny, burying his head in his hands.  

“You want to bet that we’re going to wind up with your whole rogue’s gallery?” asked Tucker.  

“If you need money, Tucker,” said Sam, “you just have to ask.  Rates on my loans are very reasonable.”

“Isn’t usury against your religion?” asked Tucker.

“Nope,” said Sam.  “Not at all.”

“I am incredibly against this development,” said Danny.  “The cults are going to have a field day.”

“Ember!  Ember! Ember!”  Chanted the punk goth crowd, which had split off from the larger goth subgroup.

“I am somehow even more against this development,” muttered Danny.  “Mr. Lancer! I don’t think it’s a good idea to include a ghost who gets power from people saying her name!”

“Shut up, Fentonnage, what do you know about ghosts?”

“My parents study them.  I know a lot.  More than I ever even—”

Danny narrowly dodged the workbook Dash flung at him.

“Mr. Baxter!” scolded Mr. Lancer.  

Sadly, when everything shook out, Danny did not get his way.  One of the seven ghosts was named Ember and was going to be played by Star.  Because why not?

“At least the Box Ghost and the Lunch Lady aren’t on the list,” said Sam.  

“But ‘Hamlet, father of Hamlet,’ is,” said Danny.  “Why does that bother me more than Ember?”

“Because you hate Shakespeare?”

“No, I don’t,” protested Danny.  “Shakespeare is a perfectly nice person.  I just don’t like how his writing is taught in schools.”

“You’re going to break Mr. Lancer’s heart saying stuff like that,” said Tucker.  

“He wrote love poems to boys.  Why do they skim over that?”

“Excellent point, Mr. Fenton!” exclaimed Mr. Lancer, who had somehow materialized behind them.  “Shakespeare was definitely bisexual.  I wi—”  The teacher stopped.  “Nope, can’t use that word.  It would be nice if the state let me teach it like that.  Along with the crossdressing.  School board won’t let me.”  He shook his head.  “Dale Baxter. Someday, someday he’ll lose an election. Eventually.”  He took a deep breath.  “Next time we meet, we’ll be doing auditions, okay?  I want you all to think about what parts you would like! And, Miss Gray, I’d like to have a word with you about your role in our production, alright?”

[voidcat]

– a case of bad luck

4. let's get it started

m.list ; prev ; next ; wc: 3.7k

warning: not so graphic but mentions of bones cracking etc (not caused by physical violence but if you remember the song from the precious chapter... yea, that...

a/n: finally getting somewhere lets goooo,, next chapter or the one after i'll finally write the bits that basically made this idea into a fic so im excited! no new song for this chapter & i hope you're liking how its going so far:)

After that night, you accept the existence of your ability, a bit quicker and easier than you expected from yourself, and reach a conclusion about it.

The lack of reaction to the lyrics on that man’s part tells a lot, and knowing Dazai won’t leave you at this, now you have an idea on where to begin observing, testing and learning.

Morning comes without an event and the day passes without a fuss. Acting oblivious to the looks your friends your way makes communication a tad harder though. More often than usual, the conversation somehow rolls back to the topic of crushes, not outright asking you anything but standing on watch for any slip up you might make, so they can pester you to spill the rest, –of a date that never happened, with a childhood friend you never had, building into a romance you’ll never have.

At least, not with him, you won’t.

Despite this, you find yourself looking out for the same bandages, dark coat and messy hair. Curious to know how it went and if the aftereffects progressed as you predicted.

Waiting in vain, having no way of communication doesn’t help your case. Still, this might be for the better, as little ways to connect the two as possible. Then the possibility of him visiting you near the school grounds come to your mind, or worse, waiting by your house, much riskier and can be recorded in visuals.

A part of you is excited though, as much as you don’t want to admit that. Now that you’ve done that, would you be considered a part of the mafia?

Nonsense, they wouldn’t let you in that easy, even if you had a potential to be a useful asset. But the deed is done and all you have to do is be patient and go on through your days like nothing happened.

That, you can do.

Wake up, freshen up, pet your cat, eat, drink, listen, talk, eat, listen, talk, look around, listen again, don’t over think, don’t search for the same feeling of uneasiness- someone is talking to you, pay attention –and with minor changes to this, repeat.

Staying on alert somehow makes it easier to catch the words in class, splitting your mind in two helps. There’s no yes or noquestion to be asked, you know Dazai will come back.

The matter is ‘when’ and ‘what will he ask?’.

A tap on your shoulder and you turn to see your friend, already packed up and ready to leave. As you gather your book and notebooks, she speaks. “So, hey…”, dragging out the ‘e’.

Humming in response, you continue to organize the items in your bag. “Do you have the sheets with you? I forgot mine.”

You halt. “What sheets?”

“We have practice today, did you forget?” she rests a hand on her hip “Wait! Don’t tell me you set up a date without paying attention to the day!”

The sudden excitement in her voice irks you, and you shake your head as you get up. “No, I just forgot what day it is. I already memorized my part, you can have my folder once we get down.”

“Great! Thanks!” she claps her hands and you two leave the classroom, not another word spoken until you reach the music room.

But the side eyes she gives you tells she’s still hung up on our lack of confirmation about a ‘date’.

Maybe you should get a boyfriend instead of pressing into people’s (lack of) love lives, you think.

Then arises the second pressing matter: choir practice.

It’s not the practice itself or the people you dread but the possibilities the recent news in your life bring.

And just like each week, recalling that the songs are all plain folk music, church stuff or a failed attempt at having a “modern song” in the repertory, your body loosens up in relief. All too boring to get in the mood to trigger an unwanted reaction, although a part of you wonders if Ave Maria could retrieve or heal a person, were they to bear an injury.

By the time you get out, everyone else has already left, the door is being locked as you make way to the hall, on your way out.

Meeting a completely different sky, a sudden temperature drop in the air has long gone becoming a surprise, now a part of your new usual. Tangerine sky starts to darken at the base but that’s not what catches your attention and brings you to a stop in your steps though you’re unaware of it.

What you came to like about the color brown was its essentials, as you were taught by your aunt. It looked completely unique to you in some way. The color of coffee, chocolate, soil… All around you, etched into the everyday life, met so often that you couldn’t see it as a mix of colors that one would make, it was independent in your head.

Eyes in the color of brown were considered average, expected, common. And yet, no eye shone sobeautiful as brown ones when the sun would set slowly, its rays scattered inside the little orbs. One of your friends said once, how she’d know she found true love when she looked into the eyes of her lover during a sunset and the golden rays would melt in their browns.

You were fond of this view of hers, a warm reminder of looking for beauty in things we often find mundane.

But meeting his brown eyes under the setting sun; the golden sky, salmon clouds, hints of blue dancing by the horizon and dull eyes with a veil of ash pulled over them, that notion you came to cherish vanishes from your mind.

Seeing no movement on your part, Dazai sighs and saunters your way.

Registering that this is real and he is here, coming your way, you kick your feet back in action and meet him halfway.

One step to separate you both, you stand two steps above him. With a shake of his head, he laughs “How eager!” he must mean your hurried pace, “Missed me already?”, he says coyly and you scrunch up your nose in reply.

He chooses to disregard your reaction, waits few seconds and starts to walk off like those days before.

You follow right after.

“What is the meaning of this? How did you learn my schedule?” the possibility of Dazai watching from afar, memorizing the approximate hours you go in and out sends a chill down your spine.

Walking until your steps take a break by the lights, “You were right about the night time.” He says without looking your way, “He turned right back into himself in the break of dawn.”

The man’s shocked face appears before you, twisted in agony, unsure what on earth is happening, mouth open wide, a silent cry on the tip of his tongue. The sounds of cracking plays in your ears, as fresh as the first time you’ve heard- no, don’t think about it, focus on the now, the orange sky and the chirping of this bird nearby.

“What a sight it must’ve been!” he almost sounds envious to have missed, “Well, it doesn’t matter, I hope you don’t have plans for tonight because I’ve got more birdies waiting for you.”

His words cause a disruption in your steps and you gather up your feet before he can notice, or makes a comment.

You gulp once, already reaching for your backpack, now held in front with one hand, “Will it take long?” you ask.

“Now, that, dear,” you inwardly cringe at the nickname “entirely depends on you.”

Putting the earphones in, your finger hovers over the screen, unsure on what to play. After what feels like a good thirty minutes at the very least, though the color of the sky begs to differ, you decide on the same song, considering you’ll have to repeat that night soon.

The familiar noise begins but all you can hear is the breaking of his bones, the whimpering coming from his mouth. How his arms twist slowly, body slouched down, each hair on him slowly getting thicker and darker, replaced by feathers. Break down and rebuild, hit the bottom and reborn, rise as something new. A confused gaze directed at the world and at the sudden change of perspective.

It must’ve been torturous to endure that much pain and feel yourself tearing apart, dropping to your knees only to get up and see the world from a lower point of view.

The unfamiliar sense he must felt, to have bones smaller and lighter, with holes inside to make an act he will never have time to learn easy, something he will never get to experience. What a drastic change it must be, and only temporarily. Really makes you think would it be better to have suffered all that pain only to be reverted back? Did it hurt as much when he was turned back.

Was it just his body that changed but was his mind affected as well? Maybe if used to it, a crow’s mind would come in handier than what he had initially-

“I wonder if I’ll have an effect on them myself,” you hear Dazai talk to himself faintly, few steps ahead from you. “Or if I’ll have to interact with you directly to change them.” He turns suddenly, a smile you’d define as ‘creepy’ on him.

Fighting off the urge to react in any way, you look ahead with empty unfocused eyes, pretending to have not heard what he said just now, how he smiled at you, and try focusing on the music though it played over your head with each replay.

Arriving at a dark door, the building looking musty, probably occupied by those affiliated with some sort of crime as a base, Dazai opens his arms in a manner that reads ‘ta-da!’. Pulling out the earphones and wrapping one wire from the back of your neck like a scarf, you give him a questioning look.

He looks annoyed at your unappreciative lack ofreaction.

“This is it, here’s the place! Go on now.” He waves a hand in a dismissive way towards the door.

Resting one hand on your hip, you let out a sigh. “Since you’re the one in charge, why don’t you show me the way.”

Slouched shoulders and an unspoken dragged out ‘fine’, one you’d expect from a child, he turns, knocks once and barges in before waiting for a response.

“Why, hello there gentlemen! I believe we had a long overdue meeting.” He sounds awfully cheery as he walks in, doesn’t sound like a scary mafia executive at all. Hands in his pockets, even from behind his posture is calm, alarmingly so, you can already picture whoever’s inside sending worried glances his way, eyes dead set on his hands. Securing your phone, you follow him at least five meters behind, trying to stay close to the shadows.

“And as you can see, I’ve brought no men with me. So why don’t you put all these weapons down, call down your men and sit down for a little chat? I even brought music to lighten the mood!” with a semi turn, he opens an arm, putting you on display.

You feel yourself freeze on spot.

Not because of the amount of men there, that’snot the problem as it seems there are about six of them, but the way they look at you, an ugly smile creeping up their features, eyeing you from head to toe…

“Why don’t you just play the song from your phone? There’s no shame in being nervous,” he sounds calm, and sweet but strange, “plus, I’d not put it past them to know the song at all.” He finishes as he pulls a chair from somewhere, you’re not sure where, your heart beats too loud, their looks getting only meaner, probably enjoying how careless Dazai must’ve sound, and you find it hard to focus, breathe or concentrate on anything other than think, think, think-

Stay there, in the moment, don’t pay attention to them, don’t think about what they must be planning for you, what they must be imagining, fantasizing, distraction, stay distracted, focus elsewhere-

You don’t notice yourself hitting play, or the familiar sound coming from your earphones, although it’s faint, or how Dazai seems to follow your movements without moving a muscle or his smile when he notices your lips moving.

This time, it goes faster albeit it looks as painful as before.

It takes a while for the sounds to reach your ears. You can barely hear their screams or cries for help, begging you to stop, promising to not lay a hand or hurt you, as if they’re the ones pulling the strings now.

And like how they portray when someone has just gotten out of an accident, a ringing in their ear so loud they can barely hear a siren in the background or pleas of people yelling to get their attention; that’s how their screams reach your ears, distant.

By the time you register what has happened, there are six confused and shivering corvus on the ground, fearful eyes watching you, flapping their wings in vain, without the faintest clue.

Turning to see Dazai watching you, he looks unmoved. You wonder why he is the only one unaffected, besides you. Then you recall, ‘a-ha!’ you’d want to say out loud, his lack of attention and following your lips the whole time, earbuds to block all outer noise would explain. You can’t help but tilt your chin up as your shoulders move up with a burst of energy, although you try to not to move an inch, almost happy for figuring it out.

But of course, his eyes miss nothing.

The sound of his heels fill the empty space now, echoing, and he crouches down to look at one of the corvus. It takes the bird to register Dazai is right in front of him, most likely he didn’t acquire the highly praised crow intelligence when he turned into one, and before it can run away, Dazai makes his move.

The bird now nesting in his hands, the arm of his trenchcoat to be more specific, squirms to get away but the grip is tight. Pacing your way with long steps, he holds out the bird to your face.

“Would you like to do it yourself?”

“Do what?” you ask back, ignoring his dropped eyelids, as if what he means is in the open and you’re pretending to be blind.

“To break its wings, of course!” he exclaims loudly and you wince at the sudden rise of volume. “Why would I do that? No!”

“For precaution.” You hear him mumble with a shrug, and his left hand shots up before you can ask ‘what kind of precautions does a bird even require?’.

A sudden and sharp snap of the wings, creaking of bones, and it goes a bit too long.

With horror, your dry throat unforgotten as the light bulbs shake left and right above you, you watch the very same transformation from minutes ago, backwards.

The creaking of bones and ripping of the tissue fill the air again yet with violence and a scream to accompany. And the wings broken beforehand doesn’t make the process any less painful on itself.

When the man lies on the floor again, you think better than to walk up and nudge with your foot or to check for a pulse. The inconsistent shivers and shakes coming from him tell enough that he is very much alive and in unbearable pain.

“How… what did you do?..” you take a step back from his figure towering over the man. Like a cat that moves its ears to a source of voice it doesn’t care about, Dazai turns to you with nonchalance, like he already forgot you were there.

The ‘hmm?’ he lets out confirms it.

Mouth slightly open and brows furrowed, not from shock anymore but of disbelief, at him; ‘how can he even be in this line of work with this little care?’, ‘how much more he actually knows and is capable of than he lets on?’… the questions go and go, and with each one, you realize you want to learn more, despite the risks and possibilities, none too good on you.

But then again, do you really want to?

“Oh, this?” he turns to you, arms open, one hand gesturing the man, which you turn a blind eye to, “You could say that I nullified your ability.”

A smile appears on his face as your expression turns into one you doubt you’ve ever had before. So your previous assumption was incorrect, he must’ve purposely led you on. Despite being a simple thing, one anyone in your place could fall for, but would anyone ever be in your shoes in the first place?- You feel stupid, like a fool, a kid, easily tricked…

“Want a go at it?” he offers, snapping you out of your thoughts. You don’t ask what he talks about this time, nor will you do in the future, he must mean the wings. Taking your silence as a reply, another shrug is his reply in turn. “Suit yourself, you’re not needed for the rest.”

Few steps back and you find a wooden crate to sit on, secluded in the shadows and turned to the center of the room. A front row seat, a voice in your head jokes.

So the effects of your ability can be undone, you make a note of it. As well as the conditions stated in your singing, this one already proven if you trust his word from earlier today.

The question of what is his ability lingers. Related to nullifying abilities as you witnessed already. And considering how he was the only one unaffected in the room as you sang, it must be to nullify any and every ability, mostly based on physical contact.

Dazai seems to take his time as you’re lost in thought, blabbering, talking about the weather and pulling out a game console from one of his pockets.

You try to recall if there was a certain focus in mind as you sang, because this might as well could be why he was left untouched, but the confidence he displayed since you first met begs otherwise. Like a no man’s land when it comes to abilities, as well as nullifying them and their affects, to an extent, you hope.

By the time he is bored of whatever it is he was doing to loiter, Dazai returns his attention back to them. So you follow next best option to wait, tune them out, ignore the shaky light and the smell coming from the walls, put the earphones back in and hit play.

As quick it was to doze off, you return as easily, Dazai walking towards the door, making a stop by you before he opens it.

The sudden current makes the coat draped over his shoulders falter and float lightly. Hopping them, you trail after him, never once looking back.

The way back, you go in silence. It’s already dark, the moon hidden behind the clouds, the stars already difficult to spot, curtesy of light pollution. There isn’t many people outside, at least not in the area, the air isn’t cold enough to bite and soon your steps fall into a rhyme.

Unsure how long it has passed, he pauses and you almost crash into him.

What it seems to be shuffling through his pockets to look for something, he struggles to find whatever it is, a little too impatient and growing frustrated with each passing second.

Then it comes to an end, you swear you could hear an ‘hah!’ as he achieves his victory, and he holds out whatever it is he fished out of his pocket in your direction.

A flip phone in dark blue tones.

You take it without a word and put it away, continuing to walk.

From your resigned form and the careful distance you set between the two, Dazai puts off chatting up for another time. He can always push your buttons another day and you look exhausted enough as it is.

Steps falling back into unison, he walks right near you this time, not letting you trail behind him or go ahead, head tilted up and letting the cool night sky have a glance.

You realize a little later, time lost on you yet again, what exactly makes you so uneasy about Dazai, especially when you’re around him.

It’s the numbness and lack of attentiveness that comes along.

There’s nothing new about having so little reaction to things happening around but the way you miss out on your surroundings is not a good sign. This is worrying, a part of your brain tells, though the worry in question isn’t fully felt.

Like a car ride with music blasting as someone else drives, and your gaze focused on the outside, taking in the scenery that lays before your eyes behind the windows.

There is color, there is blur, there are things you see, sure, but what do you truly see? Like floating in limbo, not truly here but you’ve not dozed off entirely either. You’re somewhat aware but it’s all limited.

It’s risky, reckless and if it keeps going any longer it might be the death of you, or a fast ticket down a road you won’t be able to turn away from.

By the time you’re lying in your bed, looking outside, you can barely recall Dazai cracking his knuckles and hearing a smirk in his laugh.

Turning your back to the window, your gaze lingers on the nightstand, where you hid the phone with Dazai’s number in it, be it for when he calls for you or when you need to contact him.

“Oh, we’re just getting started.” is what you remember him say in a cold manner as they shivered in fear and flapped their wings in futile efforts, and despite his turned back to you, you’re certain the phrase was directed more at you and less at those unfortunate souls.

[trentsleatherboots]

Carach Angren, interview translation Dutch > English

Published in the magazine Rock Tribune, edition June 2020, nr. 192.

Text by Morbid Geert. Fotos: Stefan Heileman.

WILL THE REAL FRANKENSTEIN STAND UP NOW?

At the end of last year you could already read about how we kept close watch on Carach Angren. Back when they were still heavy in the production process, on Halloween Day we went over to Ardeks homebase and studio to see the first glimpse of their new work and later Rock Tribune got invited to listen to the album in Germany. Now it's almost time for 'Franckensteina Strataemontanus' to be shown to the world and that's why we wanted to take an even deeper look. Weaponed with an oil lamp and shovel we went onwards towards the graveyard to uncover the soul stirrings of Ardek. (Text: Morbid Geert)

---

Ardek, the last time I talked to you the songs were still in a very early stage and what we heard was more of a pre production. Did you tinker more afterwards to come to an end result or did you purposely keep your hands off to avoid overproduction?

"In terms of song structures and lyrics not much changed on the premature songs that you heard. What followed however was another production-finish, where especially the mix and mastering made a big change. That last stadia really lifted it all to another plane and you can really hear that."

A FRESH LOOK.

As far as I knew, Patrick Damiani was still fully onboard working on the songs at Tidal Wave Studio in Germany. How important was it for you to pull an extra producer into the process? After all, you are very much at home with that as well? Or maybe not as much as you'd like?

"Back then he worked on drumediting and played the basslines, but his role is way bigger than that. We've worked together a lot and now we're doing something for L'Âme Immortelle, where we vibe together perfectly and know exactly how to handle such a project.  When he takes on production for Carach Angren however, I notice how much better he controls it. He has so much knowledge about drum sounds, mixing,... and he's really specialised in it. It is nice to add that knowledge, it brings a lot of added value. These days a lot of bands record at home and that all makes it a lot cheaper, but a good producer brings a lot of experience and equipment, it ends up with a whole different result. Besides, we left the mix and mastering to Robert Carranza."

That last one is a pretty big name, who among others worked with Marilyn Manson. I can imagine that has a big impact on your budget, but was it worth it?

"I think so. When I listened to 'Killing Strangers' by Marilyn Manson on headphones and heard the bassline, it went so deep that it turned me upside down. Apparently Robert Carranza mixed that album.  Furthermore he does a lot of different things such as make latin music and win grammy's, but in the extreme metal scene he is totally unknown.  However, he wanted to help himself to our record and yes, the price was steep, but I managed to convince both the band and the label… even though that wasn't without some doubts, since all eyes were on me for a bit. I had a good feeling about it and shared it, with the result being having a record now that doesn't sound like the others.  He had a fresh look on our work and thus we could avoid the recognisability of the average metal producer.  There are too many records that when you hear them you know exactly who had their hands on them and in which studio they were recorded.  Contrary to what you might think, there was constant contact with him (Robert) and a lot of talking about how we wanted it to sound. In particular the clarity of the sound is massive and gives it a bit more of a cinematic effect. There was no compression applied where everything sounds constantly loud and where as a listener you'd get easily tired, but the dynamics were preserved."

DIDN'T FEEL LIKE IT ANYMORE.

To refer back to Patrick Damiani: if he does so much and even plays the basslines, do you see him as sort of a 4th band member or is that just a bit too much credit?

"That's not how we see him. He's an amazing producer and musician, who gives us his opinion and helps us out. On the other hand he is not part of the creative process and he isn't on stage with us… but it is a relationship that's been going on for 12 years and something we get a lot out of."

Now I'm saying '4th band member', but after the recordings of your new record ended, your brother and drummer Namtar left the band. Can I ask what happened and if you saw this coming, or whether it was a bolt from the blue?

“In November he recorded his drum tracks and back then everything went fine, but then there came an offer to play at '70000TONS OF METAL'. Since we always looked at the financial side of the band together, we talked about the offer and he was immediately against it.  I thought that was strange and to me it seemed better to sit around the table with three to talk about it. Then it became apparent that he'd been wrestling with it for sometime and in brief didn't feel like it anymore.  We offered him to take a break of a few months instead of just throwing away what we've worked for the last 20 years, but that wasn't a solution.  It wasn't an easy decision, but afterwards we saw it had been an issue for a long time and at that point you rather put a stop to it.  That hit us hard, but you can never force somebody to stay in a band.  To keep our motivation high we played '70000TONS OF METAL' after all with Michiel van der Plicht of God Dethroned as replacement. That pleased us all and he's willing to help us out in the future."

Michiel van der Plicht in indeed an amazing drummer. Are there any plans to keep him in the band permanently or is this an emergency solution and is there an offer still standing?

"I discussed that extensively with Seregor, but together the two of us stay the core of the band. We already have an extra guitarist live and in the studio we will definitely have those people join again, but all decisions will be made by us two in the end.  We want to avoid that other people leave a mark on the band, causing us to lose our individuality (personality). It's about so much more than just making music: the stage decor, our own stage outfits,... for us it is very clear and it's going well, so we only need help to fill in with the music in the studio and during lives."

MILKED OUT?

Let's get to the core of business. At the end of this month is the release of your 6th album, 'Franckensteina Strataemontanus'. Now lends the Frankenstein story itself perfectly for a horror metal band, but I wondered if the story isn't too milked out by other bands… unless you do it with a completely new vision. After all, that's what you did with 'This Is No Fairytale', where Hans and Gretel were transported to the now and the horror became bigger than ever. 

"When we started, I had the same feelings about the Frankenstein story, but there's a twist to it. Everything started for me as a dream, where I flew through an old house. There, I heard dissonant piano tunes and I got sucked into a room where a portrait of an old man hung on the wall. Later I made a drawing of that portrait and it got stuck in my head. When I began doing research for the album months later and even read Mary Shelley's amazing book 'Frankenstein', I found out that there is a theory that when she wrote her book she was influenced by Johann Konrad Dippel, an 18th century alchemist.  Then when I looked him up, he turned out to look like what I had seen in my dream, which personally motivated me to dig deeper. Dippel is an unknown figure for the masses and that's why it seemed fascinating to us to do something with it.  There is fiction and truth mixed in our story. By the way, Dippel lived in Frankenstein Castle near Darmstadt, where he was looking for the elixir to eternal life. He was also a theologist, but he clashed with the church and was therefore cast away. Because he also did experiments on cadavers and sought life extending resources, he would've inspired Mary Shelley for her story. What we did was make a concept around the source of her story instead of following the clichés.  That monster with screws in his head, we've seen it already before…"

Yet it doesn't seem like a concept album, because I notice that you address very diverse subjects.

"It is definitely a concept, since all stories are connected to one another, even if it's not noticeable. 'Operation Compass' is about the North-African desert war between the Brits and Italians. In official documents the Brits were ordered that if there were to be a fallback, to make all sources unusable for the enemy with 'Dippel's oil' (a nasty substance that made water undrinkable but did not poison it, so it was in battle with the Geneva protocols).  In our story it leads to a demonic outburst that went towards the soldiers. So you see, Dippel comes back throughout different moments in history. 'Der Vampir von Nürnberg' is about a real figure that is still alive. He committed necrophilia, killed people and drank their blood, … but is now at large. In our story he lost his ways after reading Dippel's books, which once again links it with the core story. 'Here In German Woodland.', the opening song, is about a boy that gets lost and dies in the forest surrounding Darmstadt, but later comes back and eats his parents. In the closing song 'Like A Conscious Parasite I Roam' it all comes full circle: Dippels life elixir only works for his soul, and his body rots away, so he searches for a guest body and his spirit creeps into that little boy." 

In a few songs, some German lyrics show up. Is that besides the concept also because of the grim sound of the language or is it simply because you live so close to Germany and it has a certain impact? 

"The subject lends itself to it of course and Seregor speaks German very well, which made things easier. And yes, the sound does play a certain role. 'Der Vampir von Nürnberg' sounds way better than the English translation, it immediately sets the right tone."

Some of these stories are the result of reality, but are often at least as gruesome as many fantasy stories: such is the bonus song 'Frederick's Experiments' about the sick science experiments of emperor Frederick II, a man who apparently was not inferior to the Nazi doctors?

"Yes, you can say that he set a good example! Seregor came with the idea and somewhere the story did fit within the total picture, even though we couldn't fit it into the big story. Our label Season Of Mist however asked for a bonus track and that's how we managed to include the song after all."

CROSS-POLLINATION.

What I noticed with the first sneak preview, but what has become clear now, is that Carach Angren this time worked very innovative musically.  Watch out, it is immediately clear that it is from Carach Angren, since you already have your own sound, but at the same time there are noticable things we haven't heard from you before. The title track has a considerable industrial touch and we also hear something from Laibach in it, just like 'Monster'. Is that something you've only recently been getting into or have you maybe secretly been an industrial fan for years?

"It is more recent, even though I've always been appreciative of it. By also collaborating with Till Lindemann for his project Lindemann, I also came into contact with it more and started taking it up unconsciously. Afterwards I got to experiment with it for my solo project and that's how I came up with the song 'Monster'. Seregor tested some things out for singing for that song and it just made sense.  It was very cool to experiment like that, which you should when you're making a record based on Frankenstein…"

It became a musical experiment instead of scientific experiment, but you do create a parallel, yes.

"Inside Carach Angren we like to put a lot of variety in the songs and if you can also give that a different look, then that is something you should try. We ourselves are absolutely crazy about it! Some fans will have to swallow when they hear those songs, but for them there are plenty of old school songs on it."

To come back to Lindemann: he and Peter Tägtgren got you involved since you are so good with classical orchestras and arrangements, but in the end it seems to have become two-way traffic, doesn't it? Have you learned a lot from it and developed other visions? 

"We worked together in a very awesome way and you do learn a lot from that. You grow as a componist, as musician and as producer. It made me compose more compactly and I sometimes pursue slightly less complex songs, like the two more industrial based songs. Always great to be able to take a different approach."

Both those songs have an easier buildup, but in the other songs you go back to the complexity that you left out purposefully 'Dance And Laugh Amongst The Rotten'. Is it a way to generate more contrast?

"In some ways yes, but it depends on how it works out in a song. We tried to make the title track a bit longer, but then the effect fell away and it didn't feel right anymore. But strangely enough I write a complex song like 'Der Vampir von Nürnberg' easier than a less complex piece like 'Monster'.  With less arrangements it quickly becomes hard to keep it exciting(engaging), but seeing as you want to keep the concept to level, you need to have enough variation. The industrial songs sound a bit less complex, but there is a lot happening in the background and they are full of tiny details that make the difference."

MIXING COLOURS.

With the new approach you have opened some doors to maybe do more experimenting in the future. Is that actually your goal or is there nothing reasoned behind it and do such new influences pop up sooner when they seem to be able to improve the song?

"It all almost comes down to what the concept of the album requires. Back when we wrote 'Death Came Through A Phantom Ship' we added swirling waves and custom/adapted sounds to it. With the new record the 'marching' of the pulsing industrial beat seemed to work the best with our Frankenstein theme. You have to see it like a painter who is mixing colours to make a new colour to fit his vision. We don't do any different and we would love to experiment more in the future. If we see what we've already tried with singing now … in the long run we were completely out of control trying to do crazy things."

The singing is indeed a very remarkable part of 'Franckensteina Strataemontanus'. We always thought Seregor had a good black metal voice, but we were very impressed by the way he twisted his voice this time around and helped set the mood.

"We are very happy about that ourselves. He delivered an excellent job and we really pushed everything to get to that point. We actually took several weeks to make sure my home studio was in perfect condition and sometimes Seregor had to redo a certain part up to 10 times to get the result we wanted, but he did it without struggling. A lot of singers that ask so much from their vocal chords are dead on their feet after an hour, but then there is Seregor who gets through the day without complaining, even while screaming his lungs out.  While recording 'Operation Compass' we did however find out it is better to record a deep grunt in the early morning, since your voice is still a bit slow and heavier from sleep.”

MUSIC AS A BOOST.

The whole corona crisis made it so that as a band it is way more difficult to promote an album now, since all concerts got cancelled. Did that have a big impact on Carach Angren or can you make it?

"I myself am very concerned with the people who are really affected by the disease and that is why I can partially ignore the inconveniences for ourselves. Nevertheless, it has a serious effect on the music industry, although that is secondary to me. We are dealing with a pandemic, people are dying and we all have to work to keep everything under control. In addition, it is strange to release an album in a full crisis, but we decided to go for it anyway. It's a cool record and we already started the promotion, so we just keep going. For now, tours are not planned, but that does not mean that we will now stream all kinds of performances to attract attention. We are not that type of band… what is a shame is that our plans for a very cool video clip are now also being abandoned. We had to go to Germany and there are also the social distancing rules, which make such a recording impossible.  But should we really want that and turn it into drama? Of course it sucks to have to promote the release like this, but the whole world is just not what it was a few months ago."

Do you have any alternative ideas to bridge that gap? I know that you guys always have enough visual ideas and there already is a lyric video for 'Monster', but I can imagine that there is more to come.

"We are working on that yes, because last month we made one for 'Der Vampir von Nürnberg' and next month we might take another song in hand. We will keep doing those sorts of things together with some 'making of-' videos that we recorded in the studio, that way we can give the album some extra promotion.  Nothing for us to worry about so… by the way, there is something about releasing a record in times like these. The people have been stuck at home for months and have nothing to do, so if we can give them a new piece of music to listen to to get through the day, then that is awesome too. It would be disappointing for the fans if we just put our new work on the shelf because of this pandemic. Every band should do what they think is best, but we had already started our press campaign anyway and we would also be a lot less driven if we only had to arrive 'with old stuff' within six months or later."

Carach Angren already has a few beautiful video clips which are build up with a real story and don't only have something musical to offer. In addition, there are also the lyric videos, where certainly those for the complete album 'This Is No Fairytale' with comic images by Costin Chioreanu stand out from the crowd. Have you never thought of bundling everything on a DVD?

"We've honestly never thought about that, but that's actually a really great idea! I think it would be nice to bundle everything together and that way we immediately remove some (away) from youtube. That can always be a good idea for the future."

LEARNING SCHOOL.

As songwriter of Carach Angren you may have previously absorbed a lot of influences that shaped you into the musician and songwriter you are today. Can you list the five most essential records or artists that shaped you personally and what exactly were their interests?

"That is a good question that doesn't let itself be answered very easily. In the classical field and orchestras I think Tchaikovsky and Stravinski are very important. They both had a lot of influence on me as a componist. Another important inspiration to me in that respect is John Williams (modern componist famous for his film scores for Star Wars, Jaws, Jurassic Park..) They helped shape me even more when it comes to layered composing, although I don't come close to what they do. As a child I followed keyboard lessons for 8 years, I did a year of conservatory and studied a year of music and media, as well as cinematic orchestration. Those last two were online, but on a serious level and you really had to write pieces for an orchestra. I learned a lot there, but ever since then I kept learning by actually doing it myself, looking through books and analyzing musical pieces.  But if I hadn't gotten the theoretical basis I had as a child, I would've never been able to do this today. On production level I have to mention Nine Inch Nails and, something you'd might find strange, Michael Jackson! If you see how well their albums are produced, and how many layers are incorporated, it's amazingly well done! You can say about Michael Jackson's music what you want, but the way the songs are built up and how much dynamics are in there thanks to the arrangements by Quincy Jones, it is absolutely astounding.  There is no lack of bells and whistles and sometimes, for example, the snare drum comes in in four layers, something you don't hear so loudly even in extreme metal. I mainly listen to those albums as an audiophile to analyze them and see what I can get out of it as a producer. Last week I checked the solo record of Roger Waters, in which I heard effects that seemed to be situated outside the loudspeaker field. Then I want to know how that is done and whether I can integrate it with Carach Angren. That kind of thing is the reverse of the compression they use too often today and you wonder why we don't all go in that direction anymore."

---

Translated by Jeordie/Trentsfishnets.

(For the record, if this interview already exists in English, I will just see this as translating practice C:)

[ody3baby]

Born this way with Alex

I’m sorry this took me a few days but thank you so much for the prompt! Also, this did not mean to be so long. Oops. Anyways. Hope you enjoy :)

Warning: Mentions of past homophobia. 

                                                  ______

                                        Born This Way

                                                  ______

Alex was wandering in the hallways of Los Feliz HIgh School after supporting Julie on her first performance in her music class without them. The rest of the band had performed with her at her school a couple of more times after their first time for pep rallies and dances. The principal tried to book them as much as she could to show that the new breakout band, Julie and The Phantoms, who were now starting to perform at big venues, like the Orpheum, were discovered at her school. He always couldn’t help but be amused by that. 

For a big part of her final grade for her semester, Julie had to perform by herself. Reggie had been confused as to why she was nervous of singing solo in her high school class when she had already sung solo in the Orpheum of all places. But Alex understood. Not only did he have anxiety about practically everything, but doing things that had a lot of emotional weight to them even when you seemed to be getting passed them could be very nerve-wracking. And even though all three of them had the urge to perform with her, they knew that they couldn’t and that she’d completely kill it anyways. Which she did, of course.

After the class was over, Julie had her free period. But, instead of spending it with the boys and Flynn, she and Luke wanted some ‘alone’ time together. Meanwhile, Flynn had a marketing team meeting for the band, which now had at least eight members from the school and a lot more clamoring for the chance to be a part of it. And Reggie was so excited and happy for Julie that he couldn't help but want to tell Ray right away. And unlike before, Julie’s dad could now see them and respond back to him.

Whatever Julie did to save their souls from being obliterated into existence, not only made her be able to touch them all, but made them able to show themselves to lifers without just performing with her. Usually they had to be with Julie in order for lifers to see them, but if they had a bond with a lifer, like the guys did with Flynn and Julie’s family, then they could see them without Julie. But they still didn’t show themselves to lifers very much.

Alex especially didn’t.

He wanted to focus more on trying to figure just how this was all possible. He and Willie came up with different theories, but nothing too concrete yet.

Besides, he kinda liked being invisible. He could be his full self and still be in front of lifers without worrying about what they were thinking about him. Like Willie had mentioned that day at the museum, being a drummer had not only helped him with his anxieties and frustrations, but helped him feel confident and be his full self in front of an entire crowd of people. And being a ghost gave him that same freedom, they just couldn’t see him. And he was okay with that, for the most part.

It actually sorta liberated him in a way.

Alex could do whatever he wanted in front of someone and he didn’t have to worry about their responses. Like that time when he danced on stage with Carrie. He had felt so free, like he could do whatever he wanted and just be. Of course his band could see him when he did it. And even though he just knew Julie for a short time, he knew he didn’t have to worry about her and the guys judging him or seeing him differently.

Like his family had.

Even after apparently 25 years of being dead, it still was only less than a year for Alex when he came out to his family. And they never treated him the same since. He used to remind himself that he was lucky. They didn’t say anything demeaning to him and kicked him out or anything like that. Heck, they even still let Sunset Curve have their studio in the back of the house.

But they still acted differently toward him after that fateful night.

In retrospect, he supposed that having the guys there as support for him might’ve not been the best approach, especially the way his parents had looked at him and Luke sitting next to each other. But Alex didn’t care, because he knew that he wouldn’t have done it without the band. Maybe he would have later on, but given the fact that just six months later he would die of an oldsmobile street dog, who knows if he would’ve gotten another chance.

And Alex was glad that he did it when he did.

Of course it stung when his parents would treat him so...differently. It was sometimes hard to even explain it. Sometimes they’d give him these strange looks whenever they didn’t think that he was looking. Like he was this weird alien living in their house, and not the son that they had raised and loved for seventeen years. And they also stopped inviting him to places and family outings, even assuming that he wouldn’t want to go to church anymore. And even when he wanted to, they heavily implied that they didn’t want him to go, always using the excuse, “Don’t you want to practice more with your band?”

However, as he and the guys would always say, it was on them and not him for thinking anything of him any less than the same boy they knew who was anxious about everything and allergic to nuts. It wasn’t his fault that they had seen him differently just because they found out that he liked boys instead of girls.

Besides, he had his real family now.

And even though he was...you know...dead, after everything he and the band went through, Alex was happy.

And as far as ghosts went, he had a pretty sweet deal. Unlike most ghosts, he could still connect with lifers, and in the best way too. That connection he’d feel with the audience while he’d rock out on his drums as he and the band would play the best musical experiences? Priceless. But he also just liked being a ghost in general. He could be in a crowd of lifers and do what he wanted, not having to worry about their judgments or what they’d think of him. He also liked to watch people and make faces or do silly dances in front of them because he could. As he said earlier, there was a sort of freedom in all of it.

However, there was that part deep down inside of him that felt like part of the reason why he liked being invisible was because that way lifers couldn’t disappoint him by not appreciating who he was whenever he wasn’t rocking out.

Alex immediately pushed those thoughts away and continued to People Watch as he wandered the hallways some more. It really was a cool thing to be a ghost and see people during moments where they normally weren’t seen.

Suddenly, he heard music with a great pop beat start to play from one of the rooms ahead. Curiosity taking over, he poofed in front of the door, and saw that it was the dance room that Julie and Flynn had talked about before. It was empty except for one person in the middle of the giant space seeming to be dancing in freestyle.

It didn’t take long for Alex to realize that the person was Carrie, Julie’s ex-best friend turned enemy turned back to sorta friend now? He was a little confused and fuzzy on the details. All he knew was that her and Julie and Flynn seemed to be, or at least on their way of becoming, good with each other again. She also found out about the Phantoms being...well actual phantoms, but to everyone’s surprise, she promised not to say anything.

Especially considering who her dad was.

Carrie couldn’t see them without Julie being in the same room, so she didn’t notice Alex’s arrival. Instead she danced to the infectious beat that he couldn’t help but move his feet a bit to.

She then started to sing along to the voice of the song coming from her phone.

My mama told me when I was young

"We are all born superstars"

She rolled my hair and put my lipstick on

In the glass of her boudoir

From his spot near the door, his legs and arms started to move with the music as well.

"There's nothing wrong with loving who you are"

She said, "'Cause he made you perfect, babe"

He stopped for a moment, struck by the lyrics.

"So hold your head up, girl, and you'll go far

Listen to me when I say"

The beat then started to get a little faster, making him start to move his body again, this time faster and more of actual dancing. Carrie then began to sing louder.

I'm beautiful in my way

'Cause God makes no mistakes

I'm on the right track, baby

I was born this way

Don't hide yourself in regret

Just love yourself, and you're set

I'm on the right track, baby

I was born this way (Born this way)

A strange sensation formed within him as he danced to the rhythm and listened to the lyrics. It was mostly like the feelings he’d get when he found a new favorite song or jammed to an old favorite. But this. This felt slightly...different in a way. But a great different. One that made his feet and entire body move with the music, as he danced further into the room.

Don't be a drag, just be a queen, Carrie sang putting one hand on her hip and the other in the air, similar to how she did in her previous performances.

Don't be a drag, just be a queen

Alex mimed her movement, feeling completely consumed by the song.

Don't be a drag, just be a queen

Don't be (Don't be, don't be)

The tempo then slowed just a bit, probably going to the next verse, he figured.

Give yourself prudence and love your friends

Subway kid, rejoice your truth

In the religion of the insecure

I must be myself, respect my youth

A different lover is not a sin

Believe capital H-I-M, hey, hey, hey

I love my life, I love this record and

Mi amore vole fe yah (Same DNA)

Tears formed in his eyes at the words, feeling like the song was talking directly to him, considering what he was just thinking about with his parents. Alex then lifted his hands up in the air, completely feeling the moment. He continued to dance like no one was watching - and literally no one was.

I'm beautiful in my way

'Cause God makes no mistakes

Alex had started to sing along with Carrie and the beautiful voice on her phone, closing his eyes and completely letting the magic of the music consume him.

I'm on the right track, baby

I was born this way

Don't hide yourself in regret

Just love yourself, and you're set

I'm on the right track, baby

I was born this way (Born this way)

Suddenly a loud shriek made Alex quickly open his eyes. Carrie was looking him straight in the eye through the mirror, one hand on her heart and one on her hip, anger seeming to simmer out of her.

“Hey, Casper, you can’t just sneak up on a girl like that!” She exclaimed with a hiss before rushing to get her phone that was in front of the mirror along with her bag. She then turned the music off, making Alex instantly miss it.

He put his hands up in surrender. “Sorry! I didn’t think you could see me!”

Carrie looked at him again and placed both of her hands on her hips this time, sending a deathly glare at him. “Oh. So you were just being a creeper who didn’t think you would get caught, is that?”

“No, no no!” Alex quickly replied, shaking his head and hands frantically. “It wasn’t anything like that, I swear! Trust me.”

She seemed to study him for a moment before giving him an expectant look. “Then what was it like?”

Alex shoved his hands in his pockets and then shyly told her, “I watched Julie’s performance during music class and was just wandering the halls when I heard the song you were playing.”

Her eyes immediately perked at that as a smile spread her face. “You like Gaga?”

He gave her a confused look, though the name sounded vaguely familiar. “What’s a ‘Gaga’?” He asked, using air quotes for the last word.

Carrie stared at him in disbelief. “You don’t know who Lady Gaga is? She’s an icon!”

“Is she some kind of royal who sings killer pop songs?”

She seemed to think about it for a moment before nodding. “Well basically yes. Just not in the kind of royal you’re thinking of. A much more important one.”

“So she’s like pop royalty?” He asked.

“Absolutely.” She then pursed her lips. “I’m actually kinda surprised that Julie or Flynn hasn’t introduced you to her yet. They both love her almost as much as I do.”

Alex thought about it for a moment. “Actually, come to think of it, I think they mentioned her before but I was too afraid to ask what in the world a gaga was.”

Carrie shrugged. “Well now you know.”

An awkward silence passed between them.

“So…” she began to say, breaking the silence first, “that was your first time hearing Born This Way or Gaga in general, right?”

He nodded.

“Did you like it?”

“It was amazing! I haven’t felt so connected to a song that wasn’t our band’s in quite a while.” He felt himself start to get a little emotional thinking about the lyrics and just the song in general, and how it made him feel. It was always an amazing thing when a song could touch your soul like that. Especially when it played right when you needed it.

Carrie smiled, seeming to have a knowing glint in her eye. “Yeah. Gaga can do that to you.”

“Yeah.” He smiled back. “I guess I was feeling it so much while singing and dancing to it along with you that it made you able to see me.”

“Damn.” She began to say in awe. “I knew Lady Gaga was powerful, but wow.”

Her saying that reminded him of the first song he heard her sing. “Hey, that reminds me. I like that song that you sang at that pep rally before our band sang for the first time. The one where you said ‘Wow’ a lot.”

Her eyes lit up again at that. “You mean “Wow”?”

“Yeah! And I like all of the other ones Dirty Candy sang too.” He then placed his hand around his cheek like he was telling her a secret. “But All Eyes On Me is my personal favorite.”

“You like my music?” She asked, pleasantly surprised.

“Absolutely! They always bring my inner ‘Dancing Queen’ out, as what my friends like to call it.”

She let out a small laugh. “Thank you.” Carrie smiled brightly at him. “You know, Gaga is one of my many influences. I listen to her as a warm up every time to help get me inspiration for my new song or choreo.”

“That’s so cool.”

“Wanna dance to her some more?”

He gave her a bright smile and nodded so vehemently that he thought his head was going to pop up. “Yes please!”

She clasped her hands together. “Great! Then I can give you a list of her songs that you have to check out first. Got it?”

“Got it.”

Carrie then went back to her phone and played where the song left off.

Ooh, there ain't no other way

Baby, I was born this way

Baby, I was born this way (Born this way)

They sang and danced with all the energy they had.

Ooh, there ain't no other way

Baby, I was born this way

Right track, baby

They both then sang at the top of their lungs, “I was born this way!”

***

A couple hours later, Alex met up with Willie, having a giant pep in his step and gave his boyfriend a giant smile that was even wider than usual.

“Hey, Hotdog! Someone seems more chipper than usual.”

Alex waved a casually dismissive hand, “Oh it’s nothing.”

He felt a little insecure about telling Willie about his latest music discovery and how much it helped him. Even though he knew that his boyfriend not only knew how much music meant to him, but would never demean things that made him happy.

“It doesn’t seem like nothing. What is it?’ Willie asked, giving him a soft and encouraging smile.

“Oh, it’s just that I found this new song and artist.” Alex shyly began to say.

His boyfriend’s smile grew. “Yeah?”

Alex shoved his hands in his pockets and began to kick the air in front of him. “Have you heard of Lady Gaga?”

Willie laughed, “Yeah I’ve heard of Gaga.” Instant fear shot up within Alex. “She’s great, right?”

The fear dissipated and turned into a sense of relief. He didn’t know why it mattered to him so much if Willie liked this Lady Gaga person. Hell, there were artists and songs that Willie liked that Alex didn’t and vice versa. And it was the same with his band, although they’d often end up having good-natured arguments about it. So why was this any different?

Alex nodded. “Yeah. I really like her songs I’ve heard so far.”

He gave him another encouraging smile. “Yeah, which ones?”

“Well, I like all of them. But Born This Way was the first one I heard and it’s my favorite.”

Willie’s smile brightened. “Yeah, mine too.” He then placed his hand on top of Alex’s. “Here follow me.”

Confused as to what was happening, Alex followed Willie, hands firmly intact, as they headed further down the boardwalk. They then stopped at more of a private part of the beach that seemed to be having some sort of event.  

“I heard that someone was having a wedding tonight and I wanted to take you.”

“A-a wedding? Why-why would you want to-to take m-me to a wed-wedding?” Alex stammered and mentally scolded himself for acting like such an idiot.

Willie chuckled. “Relax, Hotdog. I love going to weddings as a ghost.”

“To skate?”

“I do skate, yeah. But I go because I love to see all of the different kinds of people that attend and the drama that no one sees. But mostly I like to see what kind of music they have.” He waggled his brow mischievously. “And if it’s a DJ or DJ system I like to mess with the lifers and put on random songs to see everyone’s reactions.”

It was Alex’s turn to chuckle. “That actually sounds really fun.”

Willy’s smile brightened even more. “I thought you would think so. That’s why I brought you here.” He squeezed his hand three times, making Alex’s ghost heart skip a beat. “Let’s go!” He then pulled Alex with him further into the wedding reception.

They stopped in the middle of the dancefloor, where there were a few lifers slow dancing. Alex gulped, waiting for them to slow dance as well. Willie then pointed to the DJ setup and snapped his hand. Suddenly the beat of a song that Alex may or may not have listened to at least three times that day, started to fill the speakers.

Alex felt his lips spread into a giant smile once more and laughed when he noticed the shocked reactions on the wedding’s patrons' faces from the sudden song change.

“Thought you might like that.” Willy announced proudly, giving him a soft look.

They then noticed how the patrons were now starting to dance to the song, making even more people coming up to the dance floor.

Alex was the first to start dancing, WIlly immediately following right after.

There were some moments where they danced next to each other, and other where their hands would collide and they’d do different moves like swinging each other around. Sometimes they would go through the lifers or dance around them. But all the while they were singing at the top of their lungs as well.

Don't be a drag, just be a queen

Whether you're broke or evergreen

You're black, white, beige, cholo descent

You're Lebanese, you're orient

Whether life's disabilities

Left you outcast, bullied, or teased

Rejoice and love yourself today

Dancing next to each other again, they both then turned to one another, grabbed the other’s hands, and softly sang, “'Cause baby, you were born this way”

They then went back to belting it out at the top of their lungs.

No matter gay, straight, or bi

Lesbian, transgender life

I'm on the right track, baby

I was born to survive

No matter black, white, or beige

Chola or orient made

I'm on the right track, baby

I was born to be brave!

Alex shouted the last part as loud as he could, throwing an arm in the air.

I'm beautiful in my way

'Cause God makes no mistakes

I'm on the right track, baby

I was born this way

Don't hide yourself in regret

Just love yourself, and you're set

I'm on the right track, baby

I was born this way, yeah

They continued to dance and sing, having the time of their ghost lives.

Once the song was getting to the end, the two boys latched their hands together and started to sing the rest to each other.

Ooh, there ain't no other way

Baby, I was born this way

Baby, I was born this way (Born this way)

Ooh, there ain't no other way

Baby, I was born this way

Right track, baby

I was born this way

I was born this way, hey

I was born this way, hey

I'm on the right track, baby

I was born this way

They then leaned closer to each other for the last part.

I was born this way, hey

I was born this way, hey

I'm on the right track, baby

They sang softly to each other, their lips only a few inches apart.

“I was born this way, hey!”

And then their lips collided, their giant smiles remaining.

[zodiyack]

Born To Die

Requested by anon: Can you do a imagine with Tommy Shelby? A song fic maybe Lana Del Rey's Born To Die but fluffy and angsty?

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst, *in Italian voice* mention of mafia stuff, mention of death, death not Reader’s or Tommy’s, fluff

Song: Born To Die by Lana Del Rey

Note: I can’t remember if they say how their mother died, I’m guessing it was when she gave birth to Finn, I dunno, I’m assuming so because...yeah idk. I hope you like it!

Edit: OH SHIT I JUST REALIZED I REMEMBER WHEN HER DEATH IS MENTIONED- I'M BIG DUMB LMAO

Lyrics = Bold + Italic | Memories = Italic | Thoughts = Apostrophe + Italic + Apostrophe

Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @stydia-4-ever, @matth1w, @redspaceace, @simonsbluee, @jenepleurepasbaby, @peakysputain​

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

Feet don't fail me now, take me to your finish line. Oh my heart it breaks every step that I take, but I'm hoping that the gates, they'll tell me that you're mine.

Walking through the city streets, is it by mistake or design? I feel so alone on a Friday night, can you make me feel like home if I tell you you're mine?

Tommy sighed, watching the woman he loved walk angerly out the door of his office. He informed her of the Changretta’s vendetta and how she would need to leave him to live. He told her that he didn’t care whether or not she wanted to, that it was his decision because he was the one the Italians wanted to kill.

“I can fend for myself!”

“I don’t doubt that, love, but you need to leave.” He looked away, the quivering of her lip too much for him to handle. Tom almost cried, his eyes were watery and his heart was aching, he really didn’t want it to come to this. “Maybe being able to protect yourself will keep you alive if you ever need-”

“Whatever. I’m not leaving. I’ll just go home until you can change your mind or learn that I’m no coward. Perhaps when you do choose the right decision, you could come stay with me. Otherwise, enjoy your time here, Husband.” Venom dripped from the word, hitting him hard as he watched her spin around, grab her coat, and hurriedly stomp out the building. 

Y/n smiled slightly, only for a moment, responding to the sorry expression Lizzie gave her as she walked past. The smile soon dropped from her face, showing that it was only for Lizzie to see, that she too was sorry. The woman flinched as the doors slammed, rubbing the sides of her head with a deep sigh.

“Thomas. She’s right, ya know. I’ve seen that girl do some extraordinary shit. Think about it.” With that, Lizzie followed Y/n’s actions, quieter and calmer, but still leaving him to drink his sorrows away while he “thought” about everything.

He downed another shot. What had been? His hundredth shot? His desk was already a mess, his office no better, and his heart still bared the burden of knowing Y/n would either be hurt by him or hurt by the mafia. There was no loophole this time.

The girl he thought of made her way to her old home, drenched in the rain, and utterly tired. Mentally. Emotionally. Slightly Physically. She knew exactly what she was getting into; Shelby business usually always had guns involved. Pol often told her that Tommy really did love her, that he was just stubborn.

Y/n laughed mockingly. Thomas was stubborn, but stubborn could be broken with choices. So that’s what she gave Tommy. Two of the hardest choices she’d ever thrown at him. Y/n grew worried as she neared her home, the feeling in her stomach and heart. ‘What if he doesn’t follow?’

She halted in her steps, turning and looking around. He wasn’t there.

Her walking continued, this time feeling very, very, very, very, alone. Each time she passed a block, knowing she was nearing her house, she felt all hope leave her body. She felt strength, bravery, and faith deteriorate as her heart slowly tore in two.

The door to her house taunted her. It’s readiness to be opened, to have her brain laugh in self-mockery, to tease her about how stupid she was to believe Tommy would actually care.

Or maybe- he’d be behind the door. Raced her to her home to prove her wrong with a pleasant surprise. Her front door was full of tricks, and her heart was pounding with anticipation.

She opened the door, revealing the nothingness of her home. It’s interior dark and Tommy-less. Y/n didn’t know what to do. Her plan to hurt him just a little backfired into hurting her just a lot. The couch was her bed that night. She was alone.

Tommy failed her.

Don't make me sad, don't make me cry, sometimes love is not enough and the road gets tough I don't know why. Keep making me laugh, lets go get high, the road is long, we carry on; try to have fun in the meantime.

Come take a walk on the wild side, Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain, You like your girls insane, So choose your last words, this is the last time, Cause you and I, we were born to die.

Ever since that weekend, she’d been avoiding Tommy. She only stopped by their mansion to see Charlie and the other Shelbys, but other than that, she stayed in her old house. The Y/n Tommy knew was clinging onto the edge, praying he’d change his mind.

Tommy was too damn stubborn for his own good.

“Thomas. You have to apologize-”

“No, Pol. I don’t have to apologize nor admit that she’s right. You know why? Eh? Because she’s not. I will not have the woman I love get murdered in front of my own eyes, or at all. If Y/n is to die, I’d rather it be old age or peacefully in her sleep than by the son of the man who tried to kill her at our own wedding.” 

He knew the mafia would make it harder to prevent deaths, which he’d learned from John, and Y/n would be shown no mercy by Luca, so he took his time, for once, to think about his options.

“See? She’s escaped death once, who’s to say she won’t laugh in his face again?” Polly scoffed at her nephew, walking out the door to visit Y/n like she’d been doing for the past few days.

Y/n needed company, and Polly was the perfect person for it. She made Y/n tea and helped her unwind, allowing her to know more of her past than her own family member did. Y/n ranted to Polly, about the things she missed and the things she didn’t. About the things that made her want to lash out and the things that made her want to cry with joy.

“How’s Tommy?” Y/n spoke through sniffles.

“Horrible, still a stubborn bastard. But lets not focus on his actions in the now. Instead, why don’t you think of the things you love...no, loved, about Tommy, more specifically, how he was before the paranoia caught up to him?”

“I mean, can you blame him? His brother was-”

Polly pursed her lips, hinting to Y/n that she was not in the best of moods to be discussing anything of John’s death. Y/n stopped, looking to Pol, waiting for her to continue. “Tell me, what did Tommy do to win you over?”

“He was... kind. And very caring.”

A small boy chased a smaller girl through the woods, their bare feet crunching the leaves under them, cold air nipping at their noses and uncovered parts of their skin.

“Tommy!”

The younger girl cried as she tripped over a branch in the path. Only nine, she was sure she’d fallen in love with the twelve year old boy. He’d been sure of the same thing as well.

“It’s okay, Y/n, I’ve got you!” He raced over, jumping skillfully over the wood and dropping to his knees. His hands reached for her leg, she hissed in pain and brought her leg back towards herself. “No, you have to let me see it if I’m to help.”

“Promise you won’t hurt it more?”

“I promise.” The boy smiled brightly up at the girl before inspecting her leg. When he discovered it was nothing major, he pressed a chaste kiss to her injury, then helped her up and onto his back.

“He knew just how to make me laugh..still does,” she chuckled quietly.

“Thomas! I can’t believe you did that!” The teen girl gasped at her admirer, his story being more amusing than he’d thought. It was a relief. “Polly must’ve been pissed!”

“She was. Told me to stop doing the impressions, that it was disrespectful. But John enjoys it, so Aunt Polly doesn’t have to know everything...” They stopped, Y/n put out her cigarette and pulled Tommy’s from his mouth, putting it out as well. “It’s um..raining.”

“I know.” Y/n smirked at the boy, biting her lip shyly before extending her hand, “May I have this dance?”

“Isn’t it the boy who asks the girl?” She rolled her eyes playfully, Thomas joining her in their laughter, “Fine fine, yes, you may. As long as I lead.”

“Can’t promise you anything, princess.”

Tommy gasped, feigning offence, “Oh you didn’t-”

“Oh but I did.” Her smile made his heartbeat rush, the blush on her face mirrored his, and the dinosaurs in their stomachs evolved into giants. Once butterflies, now giants, their teen crushes never hesitated to bring them closer.

They danced, Y/n’s dress sticking to her skin like Tommy’s dress-shirt. They’d came from the church, Tommy’s story about how he talked to John in the preacher’s voice, and their Sunday Bests were now soaked with the skies tears, which their melody came from.

“Y/n?” She nodded in response. “Lets run away. Together.” He dipped her, and then pulled her back up to see her reaction. A wild, even mischievous, smile rested on her lips before he leaned forward to join their grins in a rough kiss.

“Polly will kill us, you know?”

“Oh I don’t doubt that for a second.” He pulled away from her, twirling her with his hand and basking in her giggles, “So I suppose we should think of what our final words’ll be, huh?”

Lost but now I am found. I can see but once I was blind. I was so confused as a little child, Tried to take what I could get, Scared that I couldn't find; All the answers honey.

She winced, crying out in emotional pain as the priest slapped Tommy. Pol collected her nephew, but no one came for Y/n. She was going to give up, allow the church to take her wherever they planned, but the door opened again. Polly waited by it.

The older woman blinked in surprise as the teen wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. “T-thank you.”

“You’re very welcome dear. Now, come along, we mustn’t stall.”

Ever since that day, she’d been so bothered with the curiosity of what led Polly to help her. Even now, as an adult and married to a Shelby, she was confused. Polly was still helping her, even though she wasn’t on the best terms with Tommy.

“Why?” Pol looked up. “Why’d you help me that day? Did Tommy ask you too?”

Polly thought back, smiling and shaking her head. “No.”

“Then what made you help me?”

“Nothing, Y/n. I just... I just felt the need to help. Thomas had no say in the matter, as he believed your parents were coming. I believe I... I could see his love for you. The way he looked at you, the gleam in his eyes when someone brought you up, the pep in his step whenever he went where you were. Tom was happy, and that was important... especially when their mother passed.”

Y/n nodded, a single, yet still sad, tear rolling down her cheek.

“Tommy? what’s wrong?” The 18 year old boy crawled through her window, eyes red and puffy. He mumbled something of his mother dying after giving birth to the youngest, and the last, Shelby brother. 

She felt her eyes well up with tears, knowing his pain and feeling the need to hold him close to her. 

And she did. His head rested on her chest as they drifted into a peaceful slumber, waking up with tear-stained cheeks, tired eyes, and matching red hazes across their faces.

She fell asleep with him that night. And the next. And the next. And the next. He continued coming over, crying to her, sometimes with her. Despite them not confessing their feelings for one another yet, they knew full well how in love they both were, after all, they’d kissed before.

1908 was a wild year.

But it was also the year they finally vowed to be together. The sooner three more years had passed, the sooner she’d be with the man she loved. She smiled, stretching as much as she could with a sleeping Tommy on her. The sunlight danced across his sleeping face, allowing her to admire him and all his beauty.

The sleepy smile on his face too. It showed how happy he was.

That, or how much he enjoyed the feeling of her nails combing through his hair.

Either way, they were both happy.

“That’s why I helped.”

Don't make me sad, don't make me cry, Sometimes love is not enough and the road gets tough I don't know why. Keep making me laugh, Lets go get high. The road is long, we carry on, Try to have fun in the meantime.

Come take a walk on the wild side, Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain, you like your girls insane, Choose your last words, this is the last time, Cause you and I, we were born to die. We were born to die We were born to die.

Come and take a walk on the wild side, Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain, You like your girls insane~

Luca blinked, blood in his eyes, as Y/n walked through the door and raised her gun. Thomas’ eyes widened; he was expecting Arthur, not his wife to push past him. And he certainly wasn’t expecting Arthur to just stand there, doing nothing to stop her. 

She smirked at the Italian before shooting him, the bullet passing through his head and hitting the barrel behind him. She didn’t so much as flinch as the gunshot rang throughout the building.

Changretta’s body hit the floor with a loud thud, splashing sounds following. Gin poured from the hole in it’s barrel, but no one cared. 

They were too focused on Tommy’s wife, who was tucking her gun away.

The woman looked at Tommy, a sigh of relief, possibly from the fact that he was still alive, escaped her mouth. She turned and left without saying anything.

He let out a shaky breath, speaking with pants every now and the,. “Tell your people in Chicago, that Michael Gray will sign the import licence to New York. 300 barrels of English dry gin a month.”

“Leave. All of ya. Tell your boss what you saw here today. Tell him...you don’t fuck with the Peaky Blinders.” Arthur stepped aside once the men had left. “And uh brother? I believe you have your own business to attend to?”

“What?”

Polly flicked Tommy’s ear with a shocked expression. It was not from Y/n killing Luca, though she did feel proud of the girl, but from Tommy’s stubborn dumbassery. “Quit being such a stubborn bastard and go after her, idiot!”

“Right-” He swallowed before nodding and rushing out of the building.

Don't make me sad, don't make me cry, Sometimes love is not enough and the road gets tough I don't know why. Keep making me laugh, Lets go get high, The road is long, we carry on, Try to have fun in the meantime.

Come take a walk on the wild side, Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain, You like your girls insane. Choose your last words, this is the last time, Cause you and I, we were born to die.

The slam of the door caused Y/n to stop and turn around. 

“What do you wa-” She started, only for her to be grabbed by the back of her neck and pulled into a kiss. Their lips fit together perfectly, dancing before separating for the horribly-timed human need of oxygen.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I should’ve listened to you-” Y/n cut him off, pulling him down by the lapels of his jacket. The rain began to pour, dousing the couple in a familiar melody. She pulled away, grinning widely. “Oh.. it’s raining. Should we head back ins-”

“I know.” She extended her arm to her husband, her action and interruption catching him by surprise. “May I have this dance?”

[fictionisfact]

I got this little part from The Schuyler Vidders on YT so credits to them. ❤️

A/N: I had so many ideas for this one so it was kinda tricky picking which one. I hope you enjoy! 💞

Part 1

Here for you | Part 2

Based on S1 Ep. 9

You hated being ignored. But that’s what has been happening ever since that night. The night Ty had decided to kiss you and then run off. He hasn’t texted you back and he definitely hasn’t tried to return your numerous phone calls either.

“And my mom’s letting me look at drama camps for the summer.” Kyle said, knocking you out of your own thoughts. You were currently walking with him and Annie, alongside the baseball field that Ty currently occupied with his teammates.

“Kyle, that sounds amazing! Don’t have too much fun without me.” You responded lightly elbowing his arm. Your frown turned into a smile when he looked over at you and stuck out his tongue.

“Well, I’m thinking about spending the summer with my dad in Atlanta.” Annie spat out before she was interrupted by the one and only CeCe.

“Bottom of the eighth, CeCe Matney is at the plate.” CeCe started with a megaphone as you all three stopped in your tracks to see what was happening, “The crowd’s hushed. The whole game lies on this one pitch. Will ty Townsend go to prom with her?”

Your jaw dropped at the scene unfolding in front of you. Of course she asked him to prom. You guys walked a little closer to the fence.

“She’s funny if she thinks he’s going to say yes.” You stated with venom, more to yourself than anyone else. Annie looked over at you knowing how you felt about Ty ever since the kiss, she frowned upon her inspection seeing that you stared coldly at what was happening.

“And here comes the pitch. Is it a homer or is it a strike? Here comes the swing!” CeCe continued as she walked forward until she was right in front of Ty. She put down the megaphone and waited for his answer. “Well?” She said as she chuckled.

“Yeah. Yeah.” You heard Ty respond. She jumped into his arms and he picked her up and off the ground. When he placed her down, they kissed. You wish you could say it didn’t hurt, but it did. You scoffed and right when Ty looked over to see you looking, you took off with Annie and Kyle hot on your tail.

It was Saturday. The day you and Ty usually hung out together. You tried to put Ty in the back of your mind so your day wouldn’t be completely ruined. You jumped out of bed and headed for your door.

You came out of your room to see Dana Sue and Annie already in the kitchen getting ready to make smoothies. Dana Sue’s phone rang and Annie was first to pick it up.

Annie looked at you with an ‘uh oh’ look. You gave her a questioning face and she showed you the phone. You saw a text from Aunt Helen reading, ‘Can you pour it out right now?’ You covered your mouth in surprise. Annie handed the phone to her mom and she responded with, “Oh dear.”

“You can go. Take care of Helen. We’ll be okay!” You told Dana Sue with a smile. You hoped she would go for Helen’s sake.

“Fine, you girls be safe while I’m gone.” She responded in a hurry to get her bag and keys. She finally shut the front door when she had everything.

“I know you’re feeling down today, but that’s why we’re going to make today amazing!” Annie said as happiness sparkled in her eyes. You gave her a big hug and thanked her. That day was filled with amazing activities and your mind only wandered to Tyler only once.

“And the whole team was standing there chanting as if Ty had just won the World Series instead of agreeing to go to prom. So stupid.” Annie said informing Issac of why you were in a mood.

You had church this morning and of course Ty didn’t even dare to look at you. You were now sulking at Sullivan’s while working with Annie and Issac.

“Very stupid.” You hummed while listening in on what she was saying right next to you.

“Yeah, I didn’t go to my prom. My mom said I’d regret missing it, but I don’t.” Issac said plainly while you were shocked.

“I don’t think my mom went to hers either.” Annie responded causing your jaw to drop. Prom was so special to you.

You tuned out the rest of their conversation thinking about your ideal prom night. What you had been envisioning since you learned what prom was. To go with your best friend, which was off the table completely.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Micah walking in with gifts. Your smile grew as he asked to see the chef. As they reunited you continued to serve tables, finishing up after a long day.

It was finally prom week. You woke up and jumped off the bed and immediately threw on an orange t-shirt with blue ripped jeans. You tied on some white converse and waited for Annie to get done dressing so you could walk together.

As you neared the school, Simon suddenly called out to Annie making her turn around. You knew he was going to ask her to prom cause he texted you about it earlier.

“I’ll see you inside.” You said to Annie lightly touching her arm. You walked away with a big smirk waiting close by. You heard her say yes and you started whooping loudly. You regretted it once she gave you a death glare.

You both walked inside and got to your locker. You took out a few books before you were interrupted by someone calling your name, trying to get your attention.

You turn around to see Jackson with a poster that read, “I might strikeout asking, but will you take a swing at...Prom with me?” He had one of his baseballs in another hand as well. You gave him a smile and turned your head to see Ty looking at him with anger.

“Sure!” You gave him an answer and hugged him. You knew you shouldn’t have, Jackson was his biggest enemy. But you had to get back at Ty somehow for ignoring you. You looked over Jackson’s shoulder to see Ty walking away down the hall.

“You can just wait out here while I go tell Kyle.” Annie told you solemnly. You responded with a nod, waiting outside of the Townsends home. You weren’t waiting long until suddenly, the door opened hastily and revealed Ty.

“Uh, Ty I wasn’t expect-“ you started to talk before he cut you off.

“How could you do this to me?” He asked with sadness and anger mixed in his eyes. Knowing what he was referring to, you rolled your own eyes.

“What do you mean?! You have been ignoring me for days after YOU kissed ME.” You whisper-yelled at him, becoming angry at his attitude.

“That doesn’t mean you can go and get close to my greatest enemy!” He responded angrily. You wiped your face and looked him dead in the eye.

“I’m sorry, but you hurt ME first. You kiss me leaving me wondering if there was a chance you had feelings for me too, but then you go and accept CeCe’s promposal while I watch you kiss her. How is that fair to me?” You said with a single tear rolling down your cheek.

“You like me?” He asked dumbfounded and confused. You both were interrupted by Annie walking out of the front door. She realized what was happening and started feeling awkward.

“Uh, did I inturupt something?” She asked you both with a confused face.

“No.” You answered her before Tyler could. You grab her hand and start walking back home before Ty could say anything else. She knew better than to ask what happened.

You were currently taking prom pictures with Annie, Simon, and Jackson. You were wearing a crimson red dress with black heels to match Jackson’s suit. You put your H/C in cute bun.

Jackson ordered a limo for the 4 of you, as he is the Mayor’s son. Although he protested about going to prom with Annie and Simon, you forced him to due to the fact he has always had a crush on you. But you never took interest in him.

When you arrived Jackson left you to go hang out with the baseball boys. Throughout the whole night, many of your boy friends asked you to dance, causing dismay to Ty and probably to Jackson as well. You had a nice time, as you blatantly ignored Ty, trying not to ruin your night.

A slow song suddenly came on and Jackson asked to dance. You of course said yes. As you danced closely to Jackson, you couldn’t help but look over to see Ty and CeCe dancing as well. You felt yourself roll your eyes and look away once Ty locked eyes with you.

Prom was over but the night was not even close to being done. Your group went to Jackson’s house for the after party and of course Ty came with CeCe.

When you arrived, everyone was forced to put their phones in a bowl. Meanwhile Jackson was tending to his guests. You sat on the couch with Kyle and on of his friends, catching up with him. You looked over the couch to see Ty and CeCe, once again dancing.

You were overwhelmed with anger and jealousy. You interrupted Kyle mid-sentence telling him you were going to get some air on the balcony.

After a few minutes of laying your arms on the railing, you heard the sliding door open.

“Sorry Jackson, I just wante-“ you cut off noticing who it was when you turned around. It was Ty. You immediately tried to push past him to get inside but he held your arm.

“Please. I need to talk to you.” He begged you with his puppy eyes. You couldn’t resist and ended up listening to him. He closed the door and leaned on the railing next to you.

“You probably hate me.” He chuckled dryly. You frowned at his sudden realization. You grab his hand.

“Yes, you have been a total jerk this past week, but you know I could never hate you.” You said with a small smile.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, for everything. When I kissed you, I got scared, scared that you didn’t feel the same way. I ignored you because I didn’t want to feel rejection. Not with everything going on with my family anyways.” He expressed with an apologetic tone.

“What about CeCe?” You said quietly, almost inaudible, looking away. He smiled at your jealousy and shook his head.

“Honestly, she’s great, but she’s not the one I want. Not talking to you everyday made me realize something. I don’t know if I could live without you. I tried to replace you with CeCe and well...that didn’t work out at all.” He laughed causing you to laugh and smile as well.

“I broke it off with CeCe, so you know.” He stated seriously after you were done laughing. You turned to him with a smirk.

“What are you implying?” You said teasingly. He smiled wide and tilted your head up with his finger.

“This.” He said simply as he leaned down to kiss you. You kissed him back with passion. You never knew how bad you wanted him until this moment. The world faded away and your problems were shoved to the back of your head.

You pulled away slowly not wanting it to end as soon as it started.

“We need to tell Annie.” You smiled softly at him.

“Ugh. Can’t it wait, I want to spend more time with you.” He said selfishly as he hugged you.

“Hmm nope.” You said getting out of his arms and bopping him on the nose. He looked at you with puppy eyes. ‘This is the boy I love,’ you thought to yourself, smiling happily.

A/N: I hope you guys don’t mind it was kinda long...Sorry! I wanted to stick to the episode and had to throw a few different scenes in there. At first I wasn’t happy with this, but I re-read it and I was more confident. Thanks for reading 🥺❤️🥰

[peakatseven]

🎸 happiness, because this song is my spirit animal lol

And if you'd like you could do these too, I'm super indecisive so I couldn't shortlist oops. You don't have to do them all, I'm just horrible at choosing:

🌕 across our great divide, there is a glorious sunrise

📖 +📜 I'm curious

Congratulations on 700!!

u gave me a reason to go back and review some of what i already wrote for this novel which comes in really handy the day before camp nano starts SOO thank you so much ily <3 i dont have my guitar with me rn so i cant do the cover just yet, im sorry, BUT i can do this:

here’s a lil snippet of my work in progress “Swing By The Lake”. I’m really proud of how this scene turned out even though i put off writing it for the longest time because i hate writing sex scenes. it’s not an actual sex scene, but it pretty clearly leads to that. kindda weird that this is the first thing that you’re gonna read from me because i NEVER write sex scenes but whatever it’s actually pretty significant to the plot because it’s the start of Charlie realizing how much she actually cares for Agustina which is just... *sigh* perfect

things u should probably know before this: charlie is a 17 y/o girl who’s vacationing in this beach town where she met Agustina, a 21 y/o photographer from Argentina who is also on a trip in this beach town. they’ve been hanging out at the cliff of the hill that separates each other’s houses for most of the summer, both at sunrise and sunset because that’s just what people do in the argentine provinces and its also romantic af. it also kindda fits the feeling of your writing prompt so its a win win! i hope you enjoy this :)

~ i’m celebrating reaching 700 followers!! so if u want to, you can send me some of these and ill do my best to create something cool for you! ~

Charlie opened her eyes after what felt like a few seconds. The room was still dark, but she was restless. Looking out the window, the moon shined full and bright over the still ocean. In a split second decision, she grabbed a sweater before heading down to the beach. With her shoes on her hand, she walked along the shore. The water ran up to her calf sometimes, a bit too cold when mixed with the fog that filled her lungs. Charlie wondered whether it was too late or too early to be out by herself, but there was no better hour to sort things out in one’s mind. If it was truly Noemi who had seen Charlie and Agustina together at the beach, why hadn’t she come to tell her parents already? Was she really going to keep the secret for Charlie without her even asking? It was hard to believe. Noemi must be up to something, waiting for the right time and way to say it. Or to gather evidence. But, why? Was there really a chance for Charlie to deny her accusations and get away with it? As all the possible—and impossible—scenarios came to her, Charlie collected pebbles from the shore, her long nightgown served as a great bag to store them momentarily. She came to realize that it was near impossible to be anxious or fearful in such a calm atmosphere. Alone in the beach, under the stars and surrounded by mist, touching the water while collecting stones. Silence only being interrupted by the ocean against her freezing legs. It was as if God tried to comfort her with nature. As she kept walking, there were more and more stones underneath her feet. So much so, that by the time she came to the end of East-Watch beach, it hurt to walk barefoot. Charlie got away from shore and sat on a stone at the bottom of the hill. The same one where she’d had breakfast with Agustina almost 24 hours prior. She put on her sandals and made a split second decision. It almost didn’t come as a surprise when she found Agustina sitting on the cliff, just like the time they were both there for the first time. The foreigner couldn’t see her, but she was most certainly aware of her— the stones bounced on one another as she walked. Charlie sucked in a breath and walked slowly closer to Agustina. She wasn’t sure if what she was doing was right, it was a much wiser decision to just leave and never talk to her again. Deny everything Noemi might claim once they were back home and forget that whole summer even happened. It was a wiser and safer choice. Yet there she was, hand over the lady’s shoulder, almost touching. “Why are you here?” She said without turning around. Her voice was cold, colder than the fog or the ocean. This one froze Charlie inside out. Silence. “If you are not going to say anything, you should just leave.” Charlie breathed in to speak, but her mouth didn't obey. She remembered the last time they were together and how abruptly she'd run away. Agustina had nothing to do with Noemi, she didn’t know how terrifying it was to see her at that beach. And to top it all, Charlie avoided her when she walked, probably the entire way, to The Saltbox Inn just to see her. What was there to say after hurting her in such a way? "I'm sorry doesn't cover it." She finally spoke, sitting down and leaving the stones just behind Agustina. She didn't turn, but her breathing was louder. Faltering. Charlie hadn't noticed from afar, but Agustina went there to cry. "Oh, Agus." She said as she sat down behind her and embraced her into a hug that wasn’t reciprocated. "I'm so sorry." "Why are you here?" Agustina's voice was weak, it broke Charlie to hear such a light-hearted lady like Agustina be in such pain. And it was because of her. "I couldn't sleep." "Why?" Charlie took in a deep breath. "The other day, I thought someone from my town was there and saw us." Charlie said, she rested her forehead against Agustina's hair. She meant to go for a kiss on the cheek, but she was turned away. "So you naturally pushed me and ran off." Agustina scoffed. Charlie was speechless. She hadn't really been thinking at the time. Hell, she barely even remembered what actually happened. "And

then you never came back or called. And then when I walked the entire way to your place… you saw me, and ran away as fast as possible. Again. Of course I'm sorry doesn't cover it." "But I am sorry, Agus, please tell me what can I do to make it better?" Charlie's own voice cracked a little. She felt awful for hurting the girl beside her, she'd done nothing but given her the best summer she'd had in years. "Charlie." Agustina sighted and covered her face with her hands, shaking herself away from Charlie's hug. They were still side by side at the cliff’s end, their legs lightly brushing against one another as they swung with the wind. But to Charlie, not hugging Agustina felt like they were miles apart. She sat back before speaking. "Come here, please." Charlie begged. Agustina lightly turned her head, giving Charlie a chance to catch those slightly swollen green eyes. In an attempt to lighten the situation, she grabbed one stone and threw it over the cliff. It bounced off of a stone and then made it to the calm ocean, which brought a hint of a smile to Agustina’s face. "Please." She offered another stone out to the Latina, who grabbed it and sat back and rested her back on Charlie. Charlie pulled her closer, just enough so she could hold her with both arms around her waist. The sun must have been rising at that moment, because Agustina's face lit up in all the shades of blue. She threw the stone over the cliff, but Charlie didn’t hear whether or not it reached the ocean. She was too hung up on how Agustina’s lips looked especially soft from the side, glistening with what remained of her tears. Charlie brushed her thumb over the lower lip as softly as possible. "I'm sorry." She whispered before going for a quick kiss barely on the side of her mouth. "I'm sorry." She repeated and leaned closer, asking for permission. Agustina slightly turned and that was enough. Unlike any other kiss they had shared before, this one felt like they were both savoring every second. They were both so depraved of the other that every moment, every move was sacred. "I'm sorry." Charlie whispered as she moved from Agustina's lips to her jaw, drying the new tears with her own lips. She kept apologizing in between her approaches. All she wanted was to make Agustina feel better. She did everything she could think off to comfort her. Charlie kept kissing every inch of Agustina’s exposed skin, staring into her eyes before going further— silently asking if it was okay to do so. Charlie let her body take over without giving much thought to her actions. They were soon enough throwing their clothes aside, condemning everything that dared come in between them. There was nothing Charlie wanted— needed— more than to be closer to Agustina. As close as humanly possible. She needed to take the pain she caused away. “Charlie.” Agustina sighed when Charlie reached her stomach. She used a tone Charlie had never heard before. It reminded her of the prayers sung at Church, delicate and desperate with a hint of fear. Charlie froze. “Is this okay?” Agustina let out an audible sight, caressing Charlie’s cheek with her fingers, softly guiding her to look up.  Agustina’s eyes were still a bit red, but they were also a slightly darker shade of green. “I-” She looked for the right words to speak. “You don’t have to do this.” “But I want to.” Charlie answered without missing a beat. She smiled shyly at the older girl, looking down as she soon realized what she had just said and what was about to happen. “But… I don’t know how…” She trailed off, resting her forehead on Agustina’s belly. “It’s okay,” She whispered. “I’ll guide you.”

[fundielicious-simblr]

(AN: I FINALLY FOUND THE ISSUE! I had a rogue mod that was causing the game to go haywire, so I went through every single mod [which just showed me I have WAYY TOO MANY] and finally got my game up and running again. Here’s the last official day before the behind-the-scene post and intros to the different families we met over the past 5 days!)

It’s the final day of camp! It’s been a great 5 days full of fun and fellowship, but all good things must come to an end eventually. The official program only runs for the morning, so there was only one event in the main hall.

The program started with a performance of ‘I am saved’ by the FCLL choir, made up of various unmarried young men and women who have shown their dedication to the Lord and his message. They sang an extended performance of the song

Branden Collins then led the next part, which was a sit down session with 2 couples to discuss ‘Homeschooling - Why and How?’ CFLL produces a homeschool curriculum that helps parents to train their children for the Lord, having a hand at writing a few workbooks himself, Branden sits down with Colt & Pearl Powell and Barrett & Kyleigh Collins to discuss why and how the 2 couples use(d) the CFLL materials with their children.

Branden started with Colt & Pearl Powell, he started by asking the couple to introduce themselves. 

[Colt] “Well, my name is Colt and this is my wonderful wife Pearl of almost 30 years. I pastor a church in our hometown of Appaloosa Plains and I’ve been on the CFLL Board of Directors for almost 15 years, and have been thoroughly blessed by the Lord in my life.”

[Pearl] “We have 11 wonderful children who have given us 10 grandchildren and counting! Each year brings us new change, but who doesn’t like having new things to thank the Lord for?”

[Branden] “Why did you choose to homeschool your children?” 

[Colt] “We were high school sweethearts, we got married while I was in college and she was in secretary school. We both grew up going to the same church, and so we had the conversation that we’d be open to as many children as the Lord wanted for us, and that we’d school them ourselves. Our parents both told us, and we ourselves experienced the immoral atmosphere of the public school atmosphere and realised we didn’t want our future children to be exposed to that, we wanted to be able to shape our children's minds and mould them into soldiers for Christ.”

[Pearl] “A few months after we married, a traveling minister told us of a conference happening near us that was put on by this wonderful organisation. We had a great time and learnt so much, and learnt we were pregnant with out first soon after, so we started attending as many sessions as we could before baby came. There were this brand new homeschool curriculum that had been released, and after reading through it we were to excited to be able to try out with our children when they were old enough.”

[Branden] “How did you homeschool?”

[Pearl] “As the mama, the home was my domain, so while daddy was the Principal, I was the Vice Principal of what we called ‘Powell Academy’. Since I was having a child every 2 years, we needed a system so make sure I didn’t lose my mind with the children *laughs*. Our first 4 went boy, girl, boy, girl, and I’m thankful that my girls had (and still have) such servants hearts and were always looking for ways to help me. When a new baby would come home they’d constantly beg to take care of them, so when it came time to do school in the morning, after I did their lessons with them, they’d help the younger ones with their letters and numbers. As they got older they were my right and left hands and helped with running the house during the day. I’d wake up with the youngest 2 whilst they worked with the other 7 to get everyone dressed, fed, and school work started. We’d gather round the table and I’d supervise them doing their work, whilst doting on the youngest, with the delivery of our youngest there were complications and he was born a bit early, so as he grew he was my main focus to make sure he got what he needed. I loved using CFLL’s materials for our kids, I didn’t feel the need to supplement with other curriculums, there was everything for every age group that the children grew into. When the kids started to graduate and pursue their future goals is when we really saw the value of our choice in homeschooling them. Both our boys and girls were sure in their identity as soldiers of Christ and set their goals based on that - our boys are great leaders, most with their own families who are benefiting from their leadership skills; our girls were able to learn how to run a household and to set their sights on being a good wife and mother. We also encouraged our children to use their musical talents to serve, with them traveling with others in a music ministry. Now that they’re giving us grandchildren, I’m excited to see my grand babies learn using the same curriculum that we used on their parents, and imagine what great people they’ll be.”

[Branden] “Thank you two for your wonderful testimony on homeschooling your children, you’ve blessed them greatly with your efforts and in turn have been blessed.”

Branden then welcomed Barrett and Kyleigh Collins to the stage 

[Branden] “Hey you two, why don’t you introduce yourselves”

[Barrett] “My names Barrett Collins, and this is my wife Kyleigh Collins, we’ve been married for almost 10 years and have 8 children together. If the last name is ringing a bell, it’s probably because you’ve watched my parents handle a few parts this past week, and if you’re really with the times then you know of my grandfather. This guy right here *points at Branden* is also my uncle *laughs*”

[Branden] “Great introduction, let’s jump right in: Why did you choose to homeschool?”

[Barrett] “I grew up homeschooled, both of my parents were homeschooled and when they got married they made the choice to homeschool us as well. It was great having all of us at home all of the time, and since I’m the oldest it was our mother who did all of our schooling until we were old enough to work on our own. Being homeschooled gave me the freedom to do what I wanted, even though there was required work I had to do, my parents used the CFLL curriculum for all of us and it’s helped all of us branch into the people that we have become or are becoming for my younger siblings still in school. When I met Kyleigh - which was here, many summers ago - one of the things we talked about while courting was what we wanted for our children, and we both agreed that homeschooling them was the only option.”

[Kyleigh] “Like Barrett, I was also homeschooled by my parents but unlike him I was an only child. Being an only child meant that my mother was able to tailor the work to what I wanted to do, and she’d add in things or take out things that she didn’t find necessary. I loved all that time I spent with her, it really cemented our mother-daughter bond and I really learnt so much wisdom and guidance from her in those formative years. When I look back on the relationship I had and still have with my mother, I can’t help but get excited about the relationships that I’m building with my daughters now as they grow.”

[Branden] “How does homeschooling fit into your day?”

[Kyleigh] “Our schedule is that we’ll both wake up, one of us will handle the baby and the other will deal with the toddlers who have most likely woken up early, since I seem to be having a baby every year it’s a great system for us.

[Barrett] “Often times I’ll deal with the baby because I do the night feedings, I’m thankful that our newest baby Olivia doesn’t fuss as much during the night as her siblings did. 

[Kyleigh] “I then handle breakfast whilst the younger ones play and Barrett gets ready for work, the older kids usually wake up by then and are dressed and ready for the day. Barrett leaves for work whilst the kids are eating breakfast and after the kids clear up the table is when we start with their school work. Our oldest 5 are triplets and twins, so we have 3 eight year olds and 2 six year olds, which is slightly easier because they can work together to get their work done rather than having 5 kids in different grades. Once I’ve got the triplets on track with their work, I can sit with the twins and do their work with them as they need more hands on teaching. We all sit at the table doing work for an hour and a half before we break for snacks and the kids can play a bit before we do verse memorization. I like using hand motions to get them to remember the words, and it’s been great to hear them sing and act out the songs that they learnt at the Children’s Academy this past week that they’ll no doubt be singing for a very long time. We also work on our manners during the day, and my older kids love ‘teaching’ the toddlers their manners - they say it makes them feel smarter *laughs*. Three times a week the kids head over to their grandparents house for their music lessons, they’re all learning the violin and piano, so I’m thankful that I married into a very musical family since all the siblings at home can pick a child and focus on them and their lessons. Right now with young kids we don’t spend the whole day doing work, but I’m assured that as they age that we’ll be able to adapt and change as necessary. Probably the kids’ favourite time of day is when Barrett gets home, it’s play time so he gets to blow off steam with the kids before dinnertime.

[Barrett] “I come home and play with the kids, we’ll then eat dinner and do nightly devotions as a family before putting the kids to bed. We go in reverse age order, so the toddlers head to bed first, followed by the twins, then the triplets, we like doing it that way because then we have time to sit down with all the kids and bond with them individually. Sometimes I’ll sit and think of my childhood when my parents would do the same things with us, and I thank the Lord for all the effort that my parents put into raising us as it had led us to this great life that we’re living now.”

[Branden] “Thank you both for your wonderful testimony on how homeschooling helped you, and how you’re working on changing your childrens lives for the better.”

The choir then closed out the programe (and the formal part of the conference) with a 20 minute performnace of a h hymn medly which was arranged by Claire Paulson and her advanced hymn writing class.

It was the perfect end to a great week of faith, fun, and fellowship! 

There were some official portraits done for the Children’s Academy and the Youth Choir!

Back Row (L-R) = Aaron Leonard, Aria Townsend, Tobias Duke, Melissa Sherman, Lester Paulson, Lyric Warner, Leroy Mitchell, Shania Crawford, Johnathan Herrington

Front Row (L-R) = Allan Collins Jr, Chloe Collins, Benjamin Collins, Rose Collins, Noah Leonard, Violet Collins, Luke Leonard

These young children are the building blocks for the next generation! They’re a testament to the benefits of moulding a young persons mind and training up a child in the way they should go! They’ve spent the last few days proving that their parents efforts in raising them have not been wasted, no doubt that as they age out of the children’s academy, they will grow and continue to be young Christian soldiers.

Back Row (L-R) Annette Collins, Jarrod Paulson, Sadie Berges, Willie Murray, Amira Collins, Jimmy Crawford, Celeste Paulson, Charles Collins, Delaney Mitchell, Tucker Crawford.

Front Row (L-R) Parker Collins, Priscilla Collins, Jolene Crawford, Fredrick Herrington, Lorilee Mitchell, Kellie Moyer, Zachary Paulson, Sabrina Paulson

Here are the wonderful youths that make up the choir! When not singing together, they’re all musicians in their own right who have shared beautiful music to the Lord, as you’ve seen over the past week! 

That makes it the end of the official program, the rest of the day was up to the attendants to use as they wished. Some headed to the lake whilst others headed to the volleyball courts for a tournament.

The children enjoyed swimming in the lake together, Macie taught them all how to swim, so it was great for them to be able to use their skills at the lake since none of their houses have pools! (AN: I spent almost an hour looking for lifejacket cc for kids, because in my mind gen 3 isn’t that clueless and know that you need lifejackets for young kids swimming in a large body of water - but that’s something the game lacks, which I might attempt to make some day)

Kyleigh and Casandra got a selfie in while at the lake, it’s been a tiring but rewarding week and they’re happy that they were able to relax by the lake on their last day. They don’t get to go to many pools and beaches due to the immodest outfits of other beach goers, but since everyone at the lake has the same (high) modesty standards, everyone was able to enjoy in peace.

(AN: ignore the horrendous editing, someones swimsuit didn’t have all the LODs and half their body disappeared😂)

There were many sandcastles made along the shores of the lake, the children practiced their diving skills using the diving platform, and loads of family and friends were able to catch up and reminisce on a great week together.

Meanwhile on the volleyball court...

The Red and Orange teams battled it out in a series of 5 matches to see who would be pronounced the winners, in the end the Orange Team won 3/5 matches, winning the tournament.

The Red Team consisted of: Jarrod Paulson, Charles Collins, Lorilee Mitchell, Annette Collins, and Celeste Paulson

The winners, the Orange Team, were: Parker Collins, Zachary Collins, Tucker Crawford, Sabrina Paulson, and Amira Collins (She was a last minute addition and didn’t get an orange shirt 😂)

The evening ended with everyone meeting at the mess hall to eat dinner before getting together for some fellowship before everyone leaves for their homes the next day. After a long, but refreshing week, everyone was sad to leave their friends, but was excited to get back to their respective homes!

[sasuhinasno1fan]

A given gift- Luktober Day 1

So, I found this event from @lukacouffaineappreciation like 3 days ago and decided to do it. A good number of these, I’m sure, will be lukadrien, as I joined my first ML discord server and it’s lukadrien based. And yes, this story is a House of Night au, I might not of finished the series (yet) and I’ve got issues with Zoey, but I like the whole idea of these vampyres. It was the first thing that came to mind with this prompt, so I hope you enjoy. Moon

Luka grew up with a lot of stories about the stars. His mother was a sailor, she could go anywhere on their positioning alone. There were also stories about the moon, but most of them weren’t about the phases of them and how the affected the tide. No, they were about her interactions with Vampyres. Marked with blue crescent moons on their foreheads and the tattoos of a fully turned Vampyre, she met many throughout her life, really getting to know them. now a days, many people believed the Church of People’s claims that they were monsters, but his mother taught him and Juleka differently. They were just like them, going through the same rises and falls as they were. Yes, they aged slowly and when much older had a craving for blood, but she never saw them as any different. The Mark they had was a mark of a new chance at life. It did also hold a scary aspect of it too. Some who were Marked and became fledglings didn’t make it to the full transformation. Their body rejected the change and they died.

“Then, what happens to them?” Juleka had asked one night, as their mother told them of the first time, she saw a fledging reject the change.

“Well, I believe that once that crescent moon in on their forehead, they are a child of Nyx. Whether or not the complete the change, she’ll look after them. there was a time I wished I had that Mark but then I wouldn’t have you two treasures.”

The stars could guide a person and thanks to his mother, Luka believed a moon could give a person another chance. He never thought he’d need one. He was happy with his life, happy to keep quiet and let his music do the speaking. But clearly, someone thought differently.

He was coming back from the music store, new strings for his ever-present guitar in hand when they appeared.

Luka Couffaine! Night has chosen thee; thy death will be thy birth. Night calls to thee, hearken to her sweet voice. Your destiny awaits you at the House of Night.

He woke up, his head pounding and the guy – a tracker he later learned – gone. He guitar had a slight chip in it from when it fell off his bike and Luka had a new crescent moon Mark on his forehead. His mother was as surprised as he was, especially when Juleka came back with one as well.

“Both my children Marked?” she questioned out loud, watching them both flatten their bangs on top of the outlines. “You’ll never hear me say a bad thing about a Vampyre, but to have you both Marked, I’m a little worried.”

She had every reason to be. There was a chance they wouldn’t make it the 4 years. But he had to trust that they’re been Marked for a reason. Saying goodbye to the houseboat and his mother was hard, but life at France’s House of Night wasn’t that bad. The classes were interesting, he was learning music from people who’d heard the rise and fall of so many genres and his mentor Sass was calm and easy to talk to. There was also something else. Sass called it an affinity, but to Luka, it was an extension of who he was. He was able to hear a person’s heart, the song they played deep down. It helped him understand the type of person someone was. The sound of a person’s heart felt like something he’d been trying to hear for so long. It was a melody that felt the need to be shared whenever he heard it.

One night, after a Full Moon ritual, he’d taken his guitar and sat under the moonlight and thought of his mother, the person who loved her children as is. She was wild and chaotic but always there for them, encouraging them. It was thanks to her that he didn’t fear the Mark on his forehead. The melody that he played was like her, wild and free but calming in a way. He almost didn’t notice his audience until he heard a bell. He looked over to see a long-haired black cat. The sight of cats wasn’t odd to him, what with the campus crawling with him, it was the collar. A green band, matching the cat’s eyes and a gold bell.

“Hello little one.” He said, reaching a hand out for it to sniff. The cat turned its nose up but still walked closer until it crawled into his open guitar case and made itself at home. “Excuse me, I hope you don’t plan on sitting there all night.”

“Plagg? Plagg, where are you?” a familiar voice called. Luka saw Adrien, his oversized third former sweater hanging off of him. For someone who didn’t model anymore, it was hard to not look like one.

“Adrien.” Green eyes found his own blue, widening when he recognised him. “Looking for something?” he pointed to the black ball sitting in his case.

“There you are.” Plagg let out a screechy meow, not looking at all bothered, though it did look annoyed when Adrien pulled it from its hiding place.

“I didn’t know you found your familiar.” Luka said, leaning on his guitar a little, nodding to the ground near him.

“More like he found me. The day before I was Marked actually. My dad called him a plague that showed up, cursing me to be Marked, but honestly, I thank Nyx that I was. I finally feel…free I guess.” Adrien said, scratching the scruff on Plagg’s neck, causing a loud purr to erupt from the cat.

“I’m not sure why I and Juls were Marked. Mom’s never had an issue with Vampyres but I can tell she’s a little worried if we’ll make it through.”

“Maybe it’s your music. I hear the Dark Daughters and Sons have been looking for someone to help them with music choice for their rituals. Your music is, enlightening, I guess. It makes me feel the same when I look at the moon and think about how my mom might be looking at the same one too. Maybe that’s why she Marked you, so you could help others feel that way.”

He thought of the music that had opened up to him after he gained the crescent moon on his forehead. He smiled too himself. “I like that idea. Maybe it’s true.” He didn’t know, but he hoped to find out, hoped he could find his path as easily as his mother could chart hers with the moon and stars.