#chorus is all of them (“sending my love from the other side of the apocalypse/just about snapped don’t look back”) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fallinnflower · 4 years ago

Text

will you be there?

hoshi x reader (apocalypse!au, established relationship, drama, fluff)

wc: 4.9k

a/n: this was originally written for my best friend’s birthday a few years back, and she’s given me permission to post it here while i’m in a bit of a slump with new writing. it has been edited/polished before posting!

You scarcely remember how it all started, where the end of the world began. The road’s beginning seems so far from you now, and you might think you had dreamed the world before were it not for the hand that holds yours as you scope out the farmhouse nestled in the valley’s swell.

The image is like a painting, you think, except that the silence enveloping you both leaves you rattled rather than at ease. The end of the world does that, you think, as Soonyoung squeezes your hand gently, shouldering his way carefully into the house. Your free hand rests habitually on the blade tucked against your hip (really just a glorified kitchen knife, but better than nothing), and the hardwood floors exhale dust as you step silently across them.

For the first time in hours (probably, but what is time when the sun has been hazed out by clouds in this part of the country for the past several days as you’ve wandered?) the two of you cease touching, sparing glances before you move to comb through the house. His eyes sparkle the way you recall the night sky, and you allow that thought to steel your resolve as you pick through the kitchen, the cupboards creaking as you open them.

In one, you find an assortment of cans, and choose to grab two just in case you find a reason not to stay in this place any longer.

You find no signs of danger or disturbance within the house — no other raiders have come through, and the house must have been left in a hurry. It still looks lived-in, and that is the disconcerting part; a breathing relic. In the dining room there is a fireplace, and on the mantle are color photographs behind unmarred glass, a tablecloth still draped over the four-seater table. The chairs are pushed in; beside the mantle, on a hook, hangs a dog’s leash and a set of car keys.

Vehicles stopped working an eternity ago, but you can vividly remember your first date with Soonyoung, when he was too nervous to stand close to you on the bus until it became overcrowded and rattled on the road, and you could feel his heart beating quicker and quicker—

You can’t be sure if it is the dust or something else choking you up, and so you move back towards the front door.

Soonyoung deems the other half of the house clear, and mentions that he saw a well out in the yard. If there’s water, he mentions, you might both be able to manage some sort of bath. You tell him about the food and the fireplace, and he smiles,

“Dinner and a bath, then.” Even with the dust streaking his face, he’s still the most stunning boy you’ve ever seen.

His fingertips graze your cheek, and you smile in return.

There are two battery-powered flashlights in the house, one in the kitchen and one in the master bedroom. While most of the linens have been eaten through by moths, the winter supply had been safe in a trunk with mothballs, and the towels you both deem suitable to your needs. You take trips to the well to fill the bottles you carry in your bags, and the large bowl you had found in the lowest cabinet. Soonyoung starts a fire while you measure out water for the bag of rice you had found in the cupboards.

It’s the closest the two of you have gotten to domesticity since you fled your city apartment, determined to get off the grid like everyone else, stuffing a backpack with food and some clothes and running. You’re loath to admit it, but you find yourself looking back a lot.

Soonyoung is heating the extra water over the fire, humming as he watches for steam. Beside him sits a bottle of shampoo and one of conditioner, along with a small, yellow bar of soap. A smile curls up the edges of his lips, and you thank whatever deity is watching over you for letting you keep him, if nothing else.

You wash his hair first when the water is hot enough, gently combing through it. The water turns the color of dirt as you card your fingers through. He keeps his eyes shut, a contented noise rising from the base of his throat as you massage his scalp, and you can’t keep yourself from smiling. Even when the world has been turned upside down, your Soonyoung is just the same.

You rinse out his hair in the backyard with a bucket, and trim his bangs with scissors you found in a kitchen drawer. He shakes his head like a dog, and you break the stillness of the valley with your laughter.

Soonyoung compliments your cooking; he grins his cheeky grin and you pinch one of his cheeks. He’s thinner now than he was, paler with the dust washed away, and you know he’s scraped some of the rice onto your plate when he thought you weren’t paying attention. You aren’t stupid, but you can’t bring yourself to argue; you’ve done the same for him.

You let your hand linger on his cheek, running your thumb along the line of his cheekbone, and he leans in to press his forehead to yours.

“I love you,” he says, softly, like a secret, your noses brushing. You smile, close your eyes because you feel the tears stinging there,

“I love you, too.”

Even before you started dating Soonyoung, you knew he was going to be an important person in your life. Call it a hunch, call it Fate — the moment you met him, you just knew.

It didn’t take you long to fall in love with him, though; after Joshua introduced the two of you, you realized he was just one of those rare, lovable people that drew others to him. He had a natural presence, as Jihoon had put it, and you were a moth to his flame.

Your study sessions turned into study dates turned into just dates, and three months in he accidentally said he loved you before hanging up over FaceTime and turned the brightest red you’d ever seen him.

(He still blushes when he says he loves you, tips of his ears turning pink, and it’s one of the things that makes you look to the past rather than the future.)

At night you lie down on the bed in the master bedroom after shaking out the sheets and checking the mattress. Soonyoung lets you use him as a pillow, and you follow his heartbeat like a lullaby as he runs his fingers through your freshly washed hair.

You hear him humming and you think about the past, detached, catching fragments of your memories as they pass by—

Stars. Dancing. He always loved to dance, but not as much after Jihoon disappeared. Everyone went off the grid so quickly. You wonder who’s left; sometimes it feels like just the two of you, wandering alone.

You wonder if anyone has made it to Joshua’s house, the safe one by the beach where rumor had it some people could be safe from the end of the world for just a bit longer.

You wonder if Joshua is alive.

Soonyoung continues humming. You curl your fingers into the fabric of his shirt and bury your face in his shoulder. Some questions are better left unanswered.

The rumble of thunder startles you awake, the walls of the house faintly trembling with the force of it. It takes you a moment to adjust before you realize just what is happening.

Soonyoung stirs awake before you can even think to rouse him.

“It’s raining,” you whisper, and you watch as the excitement spreads slowly across his face, first widening his eyes and then curving them into crescents as he smiles. A flash of lightning makes his eyes spark, followed closely by another rumble of thunder that rattles the windows. Soonyoung laughs, the sound soft and yet so overpowering that you can’t help but follow suit. His fingers bunch up in your shirt and pull you closer by the small of your back, laughing breathlessly against the crown of your head.

“Soonyoung,” you say, voice just a little louder than before, and he hums in response. “Sing for me?” He hesitates, but in the end, he breathes out his reply slowly,

“Alright.” Soonyoung’s eyes slip closed as the storm picks up outside, the rain slanting towards the windows, and you tuck your head against his shoulder as he clears his throat. His voice is soft — it’s been so long since he’s sung for any reason — and he sings a song you remember Jihoon composing what seems like a lifetime ago. You watch his face carefully, the way his eyes stay closed as he concentrates, the way he shuts them tighter as his voice begins to tremble—

He gets through the first chorus before his voice finally warbles to a halt, his breaths shaking past his lips. You pull him closer to you, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair as he takes deep gulps of air.

He doesn’t cry, because crying is for when people are dead, and neither of you wants to admit that Jihoon (or Seungcheol or Joshua or Minghao or—) is possibly gone.

The rain drowns out the sound of his shaky breaths until it lulls you both to sleep.

For the first time in a long, long time, you wake up before Soonyoung, your head resting on the pillow beside his. The sunlight washes over his face through the dusty windows, his lips slightly parted. They look a little chapped, you notice, and it sends a small pang through your heart; he’s still beautiful, but he’s not the same Soonyoung he used to be, the bangs you cut for him choppy and sticking out in all directions, his cheeks no longer as rounded out, dark bags under his eyes. You swallow thickly, reaching out to smooth down his hair, still thick and soft despite it all, standing out in stark contrast against the pale yellow sheets.

Soonyoung’s nose twitches slightly as the tips of his hair tickle his face, lips quirking up on one side into something almost like a smile in his sleep. It strikes you, then, hard and heavy in your chest, that you love Soonyoung more than anything in this godforsaken world; you’ve chosen to live with him, knowing full well you will more than likely die with him, too.

You don’t regret it, even as the heaviness settles into your chest, feeling almost slightly like sobs trapped in your throat.

Soonyoung opens his eyes before you can dwell too long on that feeling, and they sparkle like stars even as he blinks tiredly at you. You smile, but it feels a little shaky, and run your hand through his hair again,

“Good morning.” A beat, and then, “I love you.” The drowsiness on his face is replaced by a smile so bright it brings tears to your eyes. His eyes still squint in the same 10:10 lines when his cheeks bunch up beneath them, and you feel the familiar warmth spreading through your chest.

You used to talk about what your calling might have been in terms of occupation, but now you think it’s always been Soonyoung that was waiting for you at the end of the road.

The two of you are slow to get up that morning, making the bed and packing away more clean linens in your packs. With the light spilling in through the grimy windows, it’s clear to see just how dilapidated the house is; both yours and Soonyoung’s footprints are visible in the dust and dirt coating the floors. You take a second sweep of the house, finding a few utensils in the kitchen that you had missed the night before, along with some dish soap. You can’t remember the last time you and Soonyoung had regular access to soap like this, but the family that had lived here seemed to have bought some things ahead of time. You imagine it’s because they lived so far from the nearest town.

There are gardening hats hanging by the back door, and you offer one to Soonyoung and take the other for yourself. When the two of you step out into the sunlight, packs filled and straw hats perched atop your heads, you can’t help but smile at the image of him beside you, his eyes squinted against the sky as he picks out the direction you need to go.

“That way,” he says. “We should reach a city in a few hours.”

“Okay,” you reply, because there isn’t really anything else to be done but agree with him. After all, with the world gone the way it is, you’ve found yourself putting as much trust as possible in Soonyoung. (Which, in all honesty, isn’t so different from how it was before the apocalypse started.) The two of you walk through what used to be the house’s backyard, with remnants of an old garden still visible, stakes jutting up out of the ground. You can’t help but think this must once have been a nice place to live.

The two of you follow the parallel lines of dirt and sand through the grass, walking on until you find the road.

Soonyoung was right, you reach the city within a matter of hours; the sun hasn’t even set by the time you find yourselves passing old stoplights more frequently. You watch them sway with the breeze, not a single bird perched on the wires, and wonder when things got this bad. The two of you stick close to one another, peering into windows and cautiously toeing open doors.

“We should just stay here for the night,” he says, and you nod. A nagging part of you knows that Soonyoung isn’t quite ready to reach your destination, isn’t ready to see which of your friends have survived and which have been consumed by the desolate world which now consumes you. To be honest, you aren’t sure you’re ready, either, but how could anyone be?

The two of you find an apartment above a coffee shop just by chance, and while Soonyoung moves forward to scout the bathroom and bedroom you find yourself standing alone in the small living room, staring at the dusty couch with tears stinging your eyes. It’s really more of a glorified studio apartment than anything, and it reminds you so acutely and painfully of the apartment you had just recently gotten with Soonyoung, and how the two of you spent ages trying to find a cheap couch to fill your barren living room; dishes and silverware and bedding, all those stupid decorative pillows neither of you needed but bought for the hell of it and put in an apartment you’ll never get to really live in or likely see again—

Soonyoung returns to the living room to find you exactly where he left you, face in your hands and openly sobbing for the first time since you both started running for the coastline. He doesn’t say a word, just pulls you into his arms and presses his cheek against your hair, squeezing comfortingly at the fabric of your sweatshirt. You cling to Soonyoung as though he’s a life preserver, and you feel his shoulders tremble as he redoubles his grip on you.

“I love you,” he whispers, as though his voice will break if he raises it even slightly.

You open your mouth to reply, but you only cry harder. He presses a kiss to your hair, and you both stand like that until you finally relax enough to scout through the rest of the rooms. Neither of you bring it up, but it’s all you can think about all through the evening, watching the shadows lengthen along the walls and floors. You wonder how many people have ransacked your apartment by now.

You fall asleep clinging to Soonyoung as tightly as possible. He’s the only thing you have left.

In the morning, you manage to make a little bit of coffee for the both of you with some old, yet somehow fresh, coffee grounds from downstairs. It’s bitter, and there are bits of coffee floating around in the cup, but Soonyoung smiles at you as if you’ve given him a valuable gift.

He spreads a nice, glossy map across the coffee table in the living room, and shows you the route you’ll be taking to the coast using a red permanent marker.

“I found this in one of the kitchen drawers,” he explains, looking up at you with a small smile still playing at the corners of his lips. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “We’ll be at Joshua’s tomorrow at the latest.”

You smile in what you hope is a reassuring manner, reaching out to squeeze Soonyoung’s hand and hoping that’s enough; there’s nothing you can say to assuage his fears, and so the two of you merely get on with your morning in the usual way, and set out before the sun is too high above the horizon.

The seasons are changing, and it makes you realize just how long you’ve been on this journey already. It had still been the heat of summer when you last saw other scavengers; the beginning of said season when you had last driven a car, or seen a working electric light. There’s no explanation for what happened (and it’s likely to stay that way, with no means of researching the event or spreading such information), though you aren’t sure you’d be comfortable with one. In some ways, the conspiracies that had been flung around in the early days of the outages are enough to leave you tired of searching for answers you won’t get.

The two of you hold hands on your walk, and you can feel the slight chill that lingers in his fingers, a sign of autumn approaching. The trees look deader the longer you walk on, and you wonder how you’ll manage to survive the winter (if you get that far).

You stop yourself there, picking the pace up slightly. If Soonyoung notices the sudden, slight change in your demeanor, he does nothing to stop it; merely matches pace with you, so you won’t be alone.

Neither of you say a word, as is typical, conserving your energy, but he squeezes your hand just a little to let you know he’s beside you still.

Before the grid shut off, Soonyoung had been a dance instructor and choreographer. He loved his job. He had a stage name he’d given himself when he was just barely a man: Hoshi. The Japanese word for star, like the ones that shine in his eyes when he smiles. You’ve associated the two ever since, Soonyoung and stars go hand in hand. Jihoon used to say he was born to be on the stage, he called it destiny. Written in the stars.

You’ve never agreed so wholeheartedly.

At your next stop, you find an actual apartment building and climb all the way to the first floor, kicking in doors and salvaging whatever you possibly can. Very few items of any use have been left behind, but you find a battery-powered CD player in one of the bedrooms and opt to take it with you, along with a small case of CDs you find. Soonyoung meets you in the hallways with an old tote bag full of cans and two bags of rice, then smiles somewhat mischievously at you. It reminds you of the Soonyoung before, flighty in the best way, when he says,

“Did you know this building has rooftop access?”

Lying atop one of the first blankets you had ever stolen, back when you still felt guilty every time you took a belonging from an abandoned home, dishes from dinner scraped clean beside you, you and Soonyoung watch the sky turn from violet to black. Old ballads play through the somewhat grainy speakers of your new possession, and you tuck yourself against your boyfriend’s side. Soonyoung’s hair smells like the sunlight that had been beating down on you both all through the day, and you can’t help but to run your fingers through it every now and again as you stare up at the stars that glitter so brightly in the sky.

Under other circumstances, the lack of light pollution would have seemed like a breath of fresh air, and yet…

So much has changed, and so quickly. Even Soonyoung, a constant at your side, is different than he was; you can’t remember the last time you saw him dancing, saw his cheeks rounded out with laughter he couldn’t contain. Calling him your boyfriend feels too impermanent now— he’s your life partner. Of this you’re certain.

The song changes to one you can remember hearing over the radio back when you and Soonyoung first started dating, and you take his hand and drag him up off the blanket.

“Let’s dance,” you say, and you swear you see the stars darken in contrast to the light that suddenly emanates from his eyes as he pulls you close to him. What you do couldn’t be considered dancing in any academic sense, merely swaying to the music and occasionally spinning until you fall into each other’s shoulders with laughter spilling softly past your lips, but it’s the lightest either of you have felt since the start of summer. You take his broad, unabashed smile as a sign that the times are changing for the better.

He smiles at you for a long moment before pulling you against his chest once more, his lips close to your ear. The two of you still way gently to the rhythm of the song, and you let your eyes slip closed, resting against his chest.

“I’m so happy I know you,” he says, softly, and you bite the inside of your lip to keep back the sudden tension you feel in your jaw, the tightening of your chest. Tomorrow, you will reach the coast, and everything will change again— though for better or worse, you can’t tell.

So you tighten your hold and squeeze your eyes shut, savoring the moment.

“Me, too.”

When the next morning dawns, you can see the differences in Soonyoung. He moves a bit more hesitantly, though you’re sure it’s far from a conscious decision, fueled by the anxiety that comes with the knowledge that later today, you’ll find out just how many of his friends you can confirm to be alive. It’s a daunting thought, that this whole journey is about to come to an end; there will be a place for you sleep, semi-permanently, and a house with other people to surround you—

You rest a hand on his shoulder when you notice him staring blankly into his bag, nearly finished packing, and when he looks at you his face bears a troubled smile. He takes your hand in his, presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, and returns to his packing with a soft, resigned sort of expression on his face. It would be so easy, you think, to tell him everything is going to be okay, but it feels too wrong to lie to him like that when neither of you know what’s going to happen even in the same minute. All you can do is take his hand as the two of you embark on the final leg of your journey, the sun beating down on your shoulders and the wind carrying just the slightest chill.

Soonyoung halts slightly when he catches the scent of salt in the air; when sand begins to appear in the crack of the roads you wander down; when you can no longer deny how close you’ve come to the end of the road. You don’t have a back-up plan if nobody is waiting for you, and your hunts for provisions have been conducted with the focus of getting you to the coast and won’t last you for too long beyond that, especially if you don’t have a plan.

You pull him to a gentle stop when you realize you’re both overwhelmed by your own thoughts, and scrape together a lunch of dehydrated fruit. It had been a rare find, but you hope it will lift both of your spirits to have something sweet and familiar. It’s the best you can offer. Soonyoung seems to know what you’re trying to do, because he smiles when you press the food into his palm.

“We’ll figure it out,” you say, and he sighs when he’s finished chewing. He drops his head to rest it on your shoulder, and you reach up to brush his bangs aside.

“I know.” His voice sounds as though he’s carrying the weight of the world. You hope he’ll let you help shoulder the burden. It’s with that thought in mind that the two of you continue on your way, the map your only source of guidance.

Neither of you have been to Joshua’s beach house since a spring break that seems like a very, very long time ago, and memorable mostly because Hansol did one too many jello shots and fell off the diving board into the pool trying to show off. On that trip, you had both been cuddled up in the backseat while Jihoon snapped at Mingyu after he made his third wrong turn. Together you have little more than hazy memories of the house’s location, and so you’re forced to rely on the directions Joshua had given you when this plan was first hatched and the maps you’ve picked up along the way.

Many of the houses you pass along the way showcase lawns littered with broken, summer-themed decorations; flags and plastic lawn ornaments that no longer serve any practical use and have been tossed around by storms. The windows have been knocked out, leaving drapes that flutter past the broken glass and wave in surrender to those that pass.

You wonder if anyone has tried to raid Joshua’s house while he’s been in it, if any of the houses that seem slightly less damaged are also being lived in while people do their best to survive. It’s hard to imagine that you and Soonyoung may be in a similar position soon.

When you’re close enough to hear the sea, Soonyoung stops and trades his map for the small scrap of paper where you had hurriedly written down Joshua’s directions. In them he had given landmarks, though how many of those have survived it’s difficult to say; you and Soonyoung navigate the streets slowly, the sun slowly sinking towards the horizon. The only sounds are the scuffing of your shoes on the sandy asphalt and the lonely calls of gulls in the distance.

A shock of pale blue to your right catches your eye, and you glance down at the paper in Soonyoung’s hand before tugging at his sleeve.

“That’s one of the landmarks, isn’t it? The big blue house over there?” You point first to the line on the note, then direct your boyfriend’s gaze to the house. He smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“You’re a genius,” he coos, and there’s more energy in his steps now as you follow him. According to Joshua, if the two of you continue down the street that starts at the blue house, you’ll find his at the end, which is the only thing you really remember about that spring break; Joshua’s house at the end of a little culdesac, a tiny white number to cap the street off.

And you know the house the second you see it, even if the windows are sealed shut and there’s no music pouring out of the door as you approach; you recognize the car in the driveway, although now it’s covered in sand and grime; you recognize the mailbox with the little birds painted on it, the half-porch to the side, the gated backyard that you know houses a pool (or what remains of it).

Soonyoung stops at the end of the driveway, staring up into the house as though the windows were the eyes of a great beast, and you take his face in your hands and force him to look down at you. You’re sure his heart is pounding just as loud and fierce as yours, a heavy weight of anxiety taking root in your stomach at the same moment that hope bubbles up in your chest. Everything is about to change; you can feel it when the wind whistles through your hair.

“No matter what happens,” you say, pressing your forehead to his and watching as his eyes flutter shut, as he takes a deep and calming breath. “I’m with you.” He almost smiles as those words leave your lips, and you step away, reaching out for his hand.

It is Soonyoung who knocks, keeping you positioned just slightly behind him for fear of who may be inside, and for a long moment it seems as though nobody will answer. Your heart throbs in your chest, your hands shaking as you press your palm against the grip on your blade—

“Hoshi?” Someone on the other side of the door asks, softly. You see Soonyoung’s shoulders tremble.

“It’s me,” he says. The door slowly opens, and there stands Joshua, thinner and more disheveled than you remember him but still sporting that wonderful, cat-like smile. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees the both of you, and opens the door all the way, stepping aside,

“Welcome home.”

#caratwritersclub #kpop scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop writing #kpop fanfic #kpop texts #My writing

146 notes · View notes

capaldifiction · 4 years ago

Text

Graham Norton Show - Lewis Capaldi x Reader

I apologize for how long these have been taking me to get to, but I hope you like your request 💙

Paring: Lewis Capaldi x Actress Reader

Word Count: 2,014

Description: Based on this request: “Where the reader and him are doing the interview on Graham Norton show and being funny as hell and everyone knows they are dating even if they didn't say it. Can you also add then having long cute stares at each other.”

Warnings: Some swearing

“And welcome our next two guests, Y/N and Chris Pratt!” Graham Norton calls out as the two enter the set to applause. Waving to audience quickly, Y/N smiles before turning to shake the hands of Graham, Jared Leto, and Tom Ellis before taking her place next to Tom, with Chris sitting to her left.

“How are the two of you doing? Enjoy your trip back home to the U.K. Y/N?” Graham asks.

“Real good,” she respond with a small smile, relaxing back into the couch. “Long flights suck, but being back home is always great. Haven’t gotten to get back to my actual house yet, but what can ya do?”

“I’m doing great,” Chris nods in response. “Got to film and now promote this film with this fantastic woman right here. She’s hilarious, and gives me a run for my money as set prankster.”

“Oh?” Graham asks noticeably intrigued. “And what kind of pranks is Y/N pulling?”

“Oh nothing that great,” Y/N insists, her cheeks reddening as she tries to talk it down.

“How long do we have?” Chris asks with a grin toward the audience that cheers in response.

“Give us one good one,” Graham insists.

“Hmmm,” he says as his gaze drifts to the ceiling of the set. “Probably the prosthetic zombie finger she stuck to the bottom of my coffee cup, then filled it with my coffee and brought it to me. Took me an hour to finally see that sucker. We’re standing there discussing the next scene, I take a sip and seeing a freakin’ finger coming up out of my coffee and chucked it.”

“He screamed like a little girl,” Y/N grins cheerfully to the audience’s laughter. “It was fantastic.”

“Well we can’t expect anything less… from the one rumored to be dating our hilarious musical guest of the day,” Graham teases.

“No clue what you’re talking about,” she insists, her eyes immediately leaving Graham’s.

“Oh? So you’re denying the rumors of you and Lewis Capaldi?”

“Absolutely.”

“I mean,” Chris butts in with a shrug. “He was on set an awful lot for someone who lives in Scotland when we were filming in Canada.”

“Well yeah, we are friends, I never said we weren’t friends and he never visited me, we live near each other and see each other all the time and he had some concerts in North America so he dropped by a few times to hang out and see the set,” she rambles quickly as she tugs at the bottom of her shirt in embarrassment.

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” Tom Ellis throws in, raising his eyebrows.

Jared and Graham laugh as Y/N sinks further in the couch and reaches for her drink on the table.

“Bit thirsty there Y/N?” Jared teases.

“Parched,” she quips back with narrowed brows to her former costar.

“So the film you two are starring in is ‘End Of The Living,’ care to give us a taste of what it’ll be about?” Graham asks looking at Y/N and Chris.

“Well my and Chris’ characters are neighbors in an apartment building that don’t really get along. They deal with seeing each other on an occasional basis, but generally avoid each other. Then all hell breaks loose as the zombie apocalypse basically breaks out, and they have to work together to survive.”

“Annnnd then they fall in love,” Chris adds with a chuckle.

“Naturally, nothing says love like zombie guts and certain death,” Y/N nods with a carefree smile.

“And here on the couch we have a vampire, two zombie hunters, and Satan himself,” Graham summarizes as he looks at his guests who laugh in response. “It’s a nice light promotional day isn’t it?”

“Zombie hunters are no match for Morbius though,” Jared jokes looking over to Chris and Y/N.

“Says you,” Chris throws back. “But if we can’t Star Lord will wipe the floor with him since he’s in his world.”

“In all due respect,” Tom jumps in, “None of them can take on Lucifer.”

“And with that, we should go to a break, when we get back we’ll see our musical performance from Lewis Capaldi!” Graham shouts as the cameras shut off.

Giving pointed looks to the men around her, and sticking her tongue out at Jared, Y/N’s attention is finally caught by the instruments being brought in for Lewis’ performance.

She nods at his piano player Aiden as he gets settled, then smiles as Lewis himself comes out onto the set. The typical nervous expression always etched on his face before a performance there. He looks up to see her gaze on him, and smiles wide before sending a wave her way.

Smiling in turn she waves back at him as she watches them finish setting up, ignoring the scoffed laughed from Chris beside her.

As the lights brighten again, the cameras come back to life as Graham steps in front of the camera, “And here to perform his newest hit, two-time Brit winner and Grammy nominated singer Lewis Capaldi!”

The cameras turn toward Lewis as he begins the song, and Y/N leans forward with her chin in her hands as she watches the performance intently, standing up and applauding loudly as Lewis hits the last note.

Finishing up the song, Lewis sets his guitar down and gives a wave to the audience before heading over to the couches. Shaking each person’s hand down the line, he stops to pull Y/N into a side hug, whispering something in her ear causing a smile to spread across her face.

After all shaking hands, all the guests take their seats once again. As Chris sits back down, he places his arm on the couch behind Y/N, while Lewis takes his seat on the other side of him. Lewis’ gaze lingers on Chris’ arm for a moment with a frown before forcing it away and looking to Graham.

“Fantastic performance Lewis!” Graham says looking over at him. “Now where do we start? The new album you have coming out or the triple platinum on your last one and the two Brits you’ve gotten since you were last here?”

“The new album Graham,” Y/N says before Lewis can respond, throwing him a look. “You’ll give him a bigger head if you go on about the other things.”

“And that’d be a bad thing Y/N?” he asks with a teasing tone.

“There’d be no living with you if it got any bigger,” she sighs dramatically.

“Living with him?” Jared asks as he looks between the two, noticing Lewis’ gaze lingering on her a moment too long.

“W-well yeah,” she answers hastily. “We live pretty close, I see him pretty often.”

“Speaking of you two living close, do you also go on some of his tours Y/N?” Graham asks. “You appear on quite a few of his social media posts from Instagram to Tik Tok, and everyone’s loving seeing that side of you when you usually play such serious roles.”

“Well we just always have a good time. I have gone on some of his tours when I’m not working, get to see some cool places with a good friend of mine. And we’re both a little weird, so it makes for some interesting videos I guess,” she shrugs.

“Let’s take a look at one of them now,” Graham says, gesturing to the screen beside him.

The screen changes to a clip of Y/N wearing a Lewis Capaldi merch t-shirt and a pair of black sunglasses as she stands atop a large table singing the lyrics to ‘Grace.’ Throwing her head back, she starts dancing to the music, when the camera pans over to Lewis also doing the dance from his music video and singing the song at the top of his lungs.

“I’m not ready to be just another of your mistakes!” she yells out as the camera follows Lewis moving in front of the table she’s dancing on. As she finishes the line, she launches herself onto his back, a look of panic on his face as they both crash to the ground in front of the camera, followed by a chorus of obscenities.

As the clip fades out, Lewis and Y/N have equally red cheeks as they make eye contact and look down at their drinks while the audience and other guests laugh.

“And what were you two doing there?” Graham asks with a grin.

Lewis runs his hand through his hair breaking his gaze from Y/N back over to Graham, “That, that was a less than sober rendition of my song and Y/N trying to kill the both of us as my piano player filmed us.”

“Ok but we were on his tour and had too much to drink and it seemed like a good idea at the time,” she defends.

“Alcohol would do that,” Tom teases.

She smiles at him sheepishly before taking a drink, “Alright we don’t always make the best choices, but we do make the fun choices.”

“Fuck yeah,” Lewis agrees with a grin, his eyes quickly widening before muttering a quiet apology.

“So about this new album, what should we be expecting from it and when?” Graham asks.

“Well there are the artists that really want to reinvent themselves for their next album, really try something new and push the boundaries of music,” he replies. “And that’s not me. It’s gonna be more sad shit, and hopefully if you liked the first album you’ll like the second. We’re looking at it coming out in May of this year.”

“No inspirations for happy love songs in your life huh?” Chris asks with a knowing smile, glancing at Y/N next to him who quickly looks away from Lewis.

“Nope, I’m sad and alone,” Lewis confirms, his gaze once again drifting to Chris’ arm behind Y/N on the couch, then to her eyes as a content smile spreads across both their faces.

“Right then,” Graham chuckles as he stands up from his seat. “That’s all we have time for tonight. Give a big round of applause for my guests tonight, Lewis Capaldi, Chris Pratt, Y/N, Tom Ellis, and Jared Leto! I’ll see you next week everyone!”

Once the cameras have shut off, the guests all stand up to bid their goodbyes to one another.

“It was great seeing you again,” Jared says, pulling Y/N into a quick hug over the table. “We really need to work together again some time.”

“I get pranked enough in my personal life to go up against you again,” she chuckles setting her empty glass down on the table. “You take it to a whole new level Leto.”

“Oh you know you loved it,” he teases patting her shoulder.

“Of course, snake in my dressing room was the best,” she says while rolling her eyes but smiling. “It was good talking again. Hit me up sometime again sometimes. And it was great meeting you,” she says turning to Tom.

“You as well,” he responds with his own smile. “That goes for all of you, I had a great time.”

“Same here bud,” Chris says throwing an arm over Y/N’s shoulder and extending it for a fist bump at Tom who bumps it with a smirk, his gaze going to a very obviously uncomfortable Lewis behind Chris.

“It was fucking fantastic meeting you all,” Lewis interrupts after a moment. “All of you are amazing. But if you don’t mind…” he reaches around Chris to snag Y/N’s hand, who he quickly pulls out of his grasp and to his own side.

Placing a quick kiss on her cheek, he mumbles, “Let’s get out of here.”

Y/N nodding in agreement, follows Lewis off the set hand in hand with shy smiles on their faces as the last few remaining people in the audience cheer.

Turning to look at the other two men, Chris smirks and crosses his arms in victory, “Fuckin knew it.”

-----

Extra Notes: As to why I chose Jared Leto, Tom Ellis and Chris Pratt. Chris Pratt I thought would be a good funny guy that would mess with Lewis and Y/N a bit (and I’m a big Marvel fan so I’ve seen some of his interviews lol). Jared Leto just because I’ve been a fan of him and his band for a really long time and just thought he was someone I could write alright. And Tom Ellis because I felt like the Lucifer show fit the vibe of this, and I had the chance to see a live panel of him at a Comic Con I went to where he was just a really cool guy.

Masterlist

Request List

#lewis capaldi #lewiscapaldi #lewis capaldi x reader #lewis capaldi imagines #Divinely Uninspired to a Hellish Extent #celebrity imagines #fanfiction

209 notes · View notes

f-117-nighthawk · 3 years ago

Text

Playlist Update? From MY Brain? More Likely Than You Think

can't remember the last time I posted these all together but I just put a few new songs in. I've been playing Arknights bc STARSET songs keep being used in the trailers, and then I was listening to Transmissions while making dinner, and uhhhhh there's two new Transmissions songs on the playlists, plus whatever else the spotify links needed to update to my ever-changing apple versions.

This is just the main playlist, because this one is now 3h 40m, and the other three playlists are about an hour each. I’ll give them their own post tomorrow. Under the cut, because it's also Write Random Snippits and Include Important Lyrics time

Dark Matter

Surprise surprise, this one’s got probably the most work done on it. A lot of that is moving things around, a few deletions, and the additions.

DM now starts with Your World Will Fail, Dark Matter, and Eater of Worlds. Turn the Lights Out still kinda applies, but I stopped vibing with it starting everything, and wasn’t really sure where else it should go so it got dropped. It’s role is sort of picked up by a UtA song later? Anyway, the opening three are still very much about not only the birth of [REDACTED], but the birth of the universe itself. And that’s why it feels better to start out with YWWF. Because it is the start.

(Your world will fail my love/It’s far beyond repair/Your world will fail my love/It is already there)

(Bring me your soul/Bring me your hate/In my name you will create/Bring me your fear/Bring me your pain/You will destroy in my name)

(Can’t imagine the violence/The rage and the love in my madness/I am the eater of worlds and I’m looking for someone to feed me)

Remnants of Stars is a hook to Filaments at this point, but stays way up here because the thing it’s about connects back up to those three ^ and is something slowly realized by the Paladins throughout the series. There’s kinda three different points that they realize something new about this (at the moment, I Am the One, Cosmic Vertigo, and Centigrade).

(Shed all you know and make way for a galaxy of light/Answers found hidden inside the smallest stone/Bringing forth a new way of life/Open your heart to the sky)

Apocalypse 1992 hasn’t changed. Still about The Fall, still the turning point for the entire damn war. Still about poor Krolia. Still the Rogue One of DM. It happens between parts of Awakenings, detailing the rise of [REDACTED] and the final hours before the destruction of everything sentient species knew beforehand.

(Fly high through apocalypse skies/Fight for the world we must save/Like tears of a unicorn lost in the rain/Chaos will triumph this day)

Apex is the final moments of Apocalypse 1992 from the Red Lion’s perspective, and connects nicely (just as in the albums lol) to the next UtA songs. Which we’ll get to in a bit.

(Brother mountain/Now we sleep/For a thousand years/I will see you again/Something is coming/Coming for me)

You Keep What You Kill covers the slow degeneration of the Empire between The Fall and the Battle of Arus. The knowledge harshly taught by the Thuanial War is forgotten under the influence of Zarkon, Haggar, and [REDACTED]. Marzin and Galraasa quickly rise the ranks as the Empire’s left and right hands, like omens of destruction before them. The four are the ‘holy half-dead,’ the ones who shape the devouring of the universe before them.

(Defying dimensions/These ruthless creatures will steal your soul/Breaking away from the chains of mortality/They won’t be taken down/Bow now to the holy half dead/The master to death mongers calls)

The Glory and the Scum is partially here bc I missed having Delain, I’ll freely admit that. (Delain split up! Like six months ago! I’m still sad!) Here, it’s (most) of the reason why Krolia isn’t around until MGHM. Think Winter Soldier-ish. It’s also from Krolia’s perspective as she’s talking to Kolivan in a conversation I implied in Shatterpoint. Perhaps it shall see the light of day.

(Look at what we've done/Take a step back/Shake your head at what we have become/We're the glory and the scum)

The Seven Sisters is about Keith, mostly, and connected to Closure via its influence on Child From the Stars (Lost in the Dark) and also to Memories of a Girl I Haven’t Met. Also the thing about the Pleiades has kinda become A Thing associated with my two favorite halfbloods.

(I cast my hope upon The Pleiades/The Seven Sisters who would come for me/They’d fall to Earth to grant a child’s dream/But I’m still waiting)

Starlight is the Adashi song. Here, it’s the sad part, based around the time that the SFSS Genesis launches for Kerberos. It also is sort of about Shiro’s thoughts throughout the war as he watches ‘from distant skies’ (and influences String Theory kinda)

(At night the earth will rise/And I’ll think of you each time I watch from distant skies/Whenever stars go down and galaxies ignite/I’ll think of you each time they wash me in their light/And I’ll fall in love with you again)

Waking Dream and Abyss are Awakenings. They’re specifically the Red Lion waking up on Sendak’s ship to her new Paladin, but also sort of the rest of the Lions as they find new Paladins for the first time since The Fall (and, also, an accidental hook to the end of Filaments just by virtue of being on the same UtA album…)

(Centuries like flowing streams as years go rushing by/Waiting in the dark for afterlife)

(Open my eyes in a daze/How long has it been? Am I so out of place?/Warmth I can no longer feel/My mountain is gone, I’m surrounded by steel/The strangest of structures arises ahead/Seems to be held up by nothing/Where have I gone, do I dream?/How can the stars be all I can see?)

Who Will Save You Now is about the Paladins in First Contact. It’s the video messages they send to their families, the warning that Something Is Out Here that they need to prepare for. It’s a declaration of protection for Earth, but a recognition that the Paladins may not be able to do what they say.

(I will not take from you and you will not owe/I will protect you from the fire below/It’s not in my mind/It’s here at my side/Go tell the world that I’m still alive)

Then there’s The End of the Beginning. Which is, well, the eponymous fic. And don’t forget the String Theory connection! Fun fact: part of the last chapter leads directly into part of String Theory at the moment.

(Every night I die just a little/All this time, I’m caught in the middle/All your life, you fought with no winning/This is just the end of the beginning)

A Simple Plan is about anything but a simple plan. Lotor is making his secret bid for the construction of the Sinkline ships, but there’s one more thing he needs before it can come to fruition. Haggar has suspicions, and knows one thing that she needs to keep from both him and Voltron. Team Voltron is still struggling to fit into their new roles, especially with a Black Paladin who adamantly does not want to be Black Paladin, and is in desperate need of one thing to fix the last of the damage done during the Battle of the Sarnan Nebula.

(How long can we hold off ending?/How long can we pretend we’re ok?/No one goes on fighting it forever/I know I’m better this way)

Memories of a Girl I Haven’t Met. Such a short song for such an important fic. It skips all the way over Naxzela to the Mission to the Baaria Shipyards, the first major offensive that isn’t somehow connected to canon (even if only a very very small part of it is actually at the shipyards lol). This is also the song that solidified Keith’s very queer identity in Dark Matter. And more Pleiades stuff!

(In this lonely place, bathed in silence and thoughts of you/I can’t see your face but I’m trying to envision you/So are you really out there? Are you awake with memories/Of a boy you haven’t met yet who’s wished upon the Pleiades?)

There’s another fic in here that I’m still waiting for a song to catch my ear, but it’s pretty big so I’m putting it in here. For the moment, it’s called MGHM 2.0: Electric Paladinloo. Featuring the Whispers, Voltron, and a few mullets.

And then. Hoh boy. The beast of beats. TRIALS (reimagine), Dark On Me, String Theory, and I Am the One. We’ve got [REDACTED], we’ve got [spoiler], we’ve got the first major turning point in the entire war, and the first revelation of the true nature of [REDACTED]. Hence the honor of being the separation point of my two main DM folders. TRIALS is the first part, the horrifying realization. Dark On Me and String Theory itself are from Shiro’s perspective. I Am the One is… an image song? I guess? That’s all I’ll say on that. (I would like to note that the STARSET songs bar OWtT tend to be about the Shiroganes…)

(Hear me from the bottom/Forged in regret, I'm the silversmith/Doomsday, you we had it coming/Marching the streets with an iron fist/Obey no more in silence/The steel in our hearts will be monuments/Today, they'll hear the violence/We'll rise from the dark like Lazarus)

(You're the cause/The antidote/The sinking ship that I could not let go/You led my way, then disappeared/How could you just walk away and leave me here?/Light the night up, you're my dark star/And now you're falling away)

(You don’t believe in space/You don’t believe in light/You don’t believe that anything is well beyond your might/We walk across the sky and beneath the ocean floor/We’re never going anywhere we’ve never been before)

(I am the one/I am the architect to rule your fate)

House on Fire is the aftermath of String Theory, and a large vibe of We ARE Struggling Together! It’s about family, never letting go of something you care about, and the slow act of trusting.

(So I’ll just hold you like a hand grenade/You touch me like a razor blade/I wish there was some other way right now/Like a house on fire we’re up in flames/I’d burn here if that’s what it takes/To let you know I won’t let go of you)

Belgrade is The klance song! It is a) a bop b) always stuck in my head because it is That Good. The line in the chorus about ‘sweet songs of seduction’ is eternally funny to me bc a)they’re both ace and b)QPR’s don’t usually involve seduction. Belgrade also leads almost directly into…

(We pretend in the darkness/We pretend the night won’t steal our youth/Singing me the sweet songs of seduction/Let me be the fool, fool, fool/Who will live and die for you)

Here to Save You is about Sam. Mostly. It’s also about Pidge. And Zaivorge cannons.

(A slave for humankind/I made sure I would survive/To stay alive/Now it’s time to move on/When there’s nothing left to prove/I’m coming to get you)

Iron is the third Closure fic (the second is End of the Beginning, forgot to mention that. They’ve slowly moved away from actually being related to it in anything but name and general idea). It’s about Keith coming to terms with parts of himself, and learning how to use them to great effect. Also has a huge info dump about the Blade.

(You can’t live without the fire/It’s the heat that makes you strong/‘Cause you’re born to live/And fight it all the way/You can’t hide what lies inside you/It’s the only thing you know/You’re embracing that, never walk away)

The second major turning point in the war is Monarch, Birthright, and Firewall. I really recommend reading the whole lyrics for Monarch, because the entire thing is very much a Lotor song. I had a bit of trouble picking a lyric to use here. Monarch is here because Lotor is also the ‘singer’ of Birthright, and both songs are to a very specific high-level target of the Coalition. Firewall is a little different as it’s a Team Voltron song not a Lotor song, but happens because of the same thing the other two do. They’re all not exactly a direct result of Iron, but they wouldn’t happen how they do without it, and then [REDACTED] swings back into the fray and things learned in String Theory/the framing story for Through Apocalypse Skies hit in full force.

(I am not the person you remember from before/The one you patronized and stepped on, the one you hurt/And I have pulled the arrows, now my skin has become stone/No longer am I prisoner to your empty fucking words)

(The voices in my head have all begun to sing/(The voices in your head have all begun to sing)/And they sure as hell hope I am listening/(I sure as hell hope you are listening!))

(They come to your dreams with illusion/They come to bring shape to your mind/You know how to stop the intrusion/We all have to fight for our lives)

and then, The Day the Earth Collapsed

(How much time has been elapsed/Since the day the earth collapsed?)

Here Comes the Reign doesn’t come into full effect until several months after Birthright/Firewall, but starts with The Day the Earth Collapsed. It’s largely about Haggar and [REDACTED]

(You made something they can’t take away/Now bring the fire of the burning sun on everyone)

Supersonic is here… kinda as a placeholder? Things have shifted around since its original purpose, and frankly it’s here still as a framework for what I like to call The Meme Battle. It’s generally about the increase in Coalition support and general winning as they go after warlords in the aftermath of Feyiv, culminating in I Need a Hero which is, of course, The Meme Battle.

Yes, it’s the Shrek version. It’s the Meme Battle.

(Supersonic, polyphonic, this is our war/Mustering the armies, marching faster than before)

(I need a hero/I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night/He's gotta be strong, and he's gotta be fast/And he's gotta be fresh from the fight)

But Tonight We Dance isn’t exactly a klance song, but it’s here for them. On a diplomatic mission gone wrong, the Red and Blue Paladins of Voltron uncover a literally-buried government conspiracy, a rebel cell, and nearly die. A normal days work for the two of them. But they’ve really gotta stop having relationship milestones in the middle of a warzone.

Another reason it’s here is Tonight We Dance is a very aro song to me. “A language universal, but I speak not its tongue” hits hard. I felt like I needed a bit in here to remind listeners/readers that romance isn’t a language Keith speaks. And it becomes very explicit in this fic, just like Belgrade.

(Tomorrow we might wake in servitude and silence/I will give you everything if only you would have me/Tomorrow we will sweat and toil/Our hands will quiver, caked with soil/Tomorrow we'll give it one last chance/But tonight we dance/But tonight we dance!)

But Tonight We Dance is the last of the Closure fics, which is why it’s here. Closure in general is a lot of Keith’s character development and some of the struggles he goes through to accept his place in the universe and the fact that yes, he does have people that care about him. The last fic is me shining a brighter light on Closure’s chorus and taking a ‘last goodbye’ as never needing to say it again

(I am the child from the stars/That got lost in the dark/Between heaven and hell/I am forced to live on/I am the cause when you sin/I am the demon you skin/But there is no more tears to beautify/This is my last goodbye)

Then we step back into the universe-level action with Soulbound. Revelations from String Theory and Firewall swing back in with a vengeance on a joint Whispers-Voltron mission, leaving them reeling and Krolia questioning her very identity.

(Soulbound, endlessly forever/Locked between the darkness and the light/Don’t drown in the swarming, blackened rising/Hold on to humanity and fight)

About three months after that is My Darkest Hour and Faster Than Light. Haggar realizes something and goes searching for her fifth [spoiler], sending the Blade and the rest of the Coalition scrambling. These also lead directly, and I mean directly, into…

(When the sun comes crashing down/When the world is spinning round and round/I will face what must be my darkest hour)

(Once more we’re flying fast as light/Dark matter passing in the night/Pursued by a force we can’t outrun/As we hurtle towards a dying sun/We maneuver through the remnants of a moon/On the solar winds of supernovas/There is not a place to hide, the Matriarch is close behind/It’s plain to see she’s coming for us all)

Cosmic Vertigo and Other Worlds Than These. Together they are the second of two revelations in what, exactly, is [REDACTED]

(Banish me like burned down planets/Write my fate with sparkling lies/I am the universe; you're just one sky)

(Pull the wool out from your eyes/It won’t shade your frail belief/In the end we cannot hide/There are other worlds than these)

Godhunter is Team Voltron, well, hunting for gods, even as one of them disappears.

(She’s been watching for a century/With hatred, and with scorn/If you know the hunter’s coming/Then you hide or keep on running/'Cause she’s slain the gods before)

Trophy Hunter, Ember, and Redemption are the culmination of Godhunter. I’ve been thinking of them as akin to the suicide mission in Mass Effect 2, if that gives you an idea of what the hell they run into. Also I switched which specific Redemption is on the playlist, because I was listening to Red Handed Denial again and their Redemption was vibing way more than the Hammerfall one. They link up to Godhunter and Soulbound in subject matter, and lead directly into…

(You, you won’t escape me, I’ll rise from the deep/In this final moment, no words left to say/I can’t let you be when a life fades away/You, you won’t escape me ‘cause I’ll set you free)

(Dark matter falling from the sky/Dancing flames reflecting in your eyes as you watch them burn/Watching all your riches witches burn)

(Remember me not for the mess I’ve made/But who I could have been/Finally I’m going home)

World On Fire, This is a Call, The Reckoning, The Wind That Shapes the Land, and Louder Than Words. Switched the order up a bit so it makes more sense chronologically, because the message ‘sent by forces beyond salvation’ has to get there before the reckoning can begin.

(World on fire with a smoking sun/Stops everything and everyone/Brace yourself for all will pay/Help is on the way)

(This is a call to action/This is a call to arms/All lives for one, together/There are no false alarms)

(I see your face, find peace of mind/Between the madness and the sadness and the fire burning/The end of war, the great divine/We’ll see the day of reckoning)

(Search within/Uncover the will to win/Turn against the tide that washes o'er/Find the strength to fall and rise again/Open up the gates, unleash the force/I am the wind that shapes the land/Old as time and twice as strong/Oceans arise at my command/I alone can carry on)

(We have the force to fight/We have the blinding light/A war is more than heard/Coming in louder than words)

#i am dark matter; your road to ruin #dm playlists #guess who spent two hours on this! again!#as usual!#long post #i'm teaching in the morning and it's one am #oops

6 notes · View notes

collecting-stories · 5 years ago

Text

Dreams - Daryl Dixon

Request: Ready for it, Taylor for Daryl please ? - anon requested.

A/N: Probably not exactly what you had in mind but I love this hook/chorus and wanted to make it the main focal point of the fic. Sorry, I took some poetic liberties.

In the middle of the night, in my dreams, you should see the things we do, baby, I know I’m gonna be with you - ...Ready For It, Taylor Swift

\\\

Your chin rested in your palms, elbows on knees as you took what was likely the most relaxed watch position in history. The thirty plus days without incident, as documented by the rummaged sign Beth proudly displayed in her cell, was making you lazy. So much so you considered, for a brief moment, wearing shorts to watch. It was hot out and the metal death trap twenty or so feet off the ground felt like it was roasting you alive most days and lately you’d been drawing the short straw - midday watch.

The only promising factor was that Daryl was back from the four-day run he and Michonne had embarked on. Which meant he was helping Rick plough. Which meant you could stare at him instead of the disgusting post-dead clinging to the fences. He was, naturally, unaware of your stalkerish staring but then oblivious, emotionally unavailable men were your type. He’d been even more checked out since Merle died, reserving any moments of camaraderie for Michonne or Rick or Carol. That wasn’t surprising. They’d found you somewhere between the farm that burned down (so the story goes) and this prison and they’d been good enough to take you in, just like they’d done for these folks from Woodbury, but you weren’t one of them. Still an outsider to the group the most they offered you was a scrap of conversation here and there. Glenn and Maggie, and Lori before she died, had been the kindest. Even bratty Beth with her moodiness and her self-revolving universe was nicer than most. Michonne was nice, but she had been an outsider too. An asset that lost the status pretty quickly, most of the time you missed each other. She was on watch at odd hours. And besides, it was Daryl you really wanted to talk to.

Like an itch you couldn’t scratch.

You’d been nothing special prior to this. And they’d found you after a rough patch, accosted by a group before theirs you’d been hiding in the back of a minivan and Daryl had opened the door on you, sending you both into a minor panic. Hershel had bandaged the sprained ankle you had and Lori had offered some of the Tylenol in her bag to ease the pain from the bruises on your face. Healed by now you only had occasional trouble from your ankle which was why Rick always put you on watch and never assigned you a run or asked you to fix the traps outside of the fences.

The complacency was making you go a little stir crazy. Or more than a little, judging by the entire hours that you spent daydreaming about Daryl.

“How are you killing anything if your gun is no where near you?” Glenn asked, nudging your side with the rifle you’d left inside the watchtower while you sat outside.

“Don’t remind me.” You sighed, taking the gun and laying it across your lap.

Glenn sat down beside you, just as relaxed. “What are they doing?”

“Building a fence for the pigs?” You shrugged. “I’m not sure, I’m just in it for the view.”

“Imagine if you spoke to him like a normal person.” Glenn teased. You had become quick friends with Glenn and he was privy to most of you new-world secrets, including your infatuation with Daryl.

“I talk to him all the time in my head.”

“That doesn’t make you sound crazy.”

“No crazier than the rest of us.” You shrugged.

“Hey, kid!” And wasn’t that the other problem? That of all the nicknames Daryl could have possibly chosen to bestow on you he had gone with ‘kid’ as if you were Carl or Beth’s age and not in fact, in your late twenties.

You leaned through an opening in the railing to gaze down at him. Tanner than usual from the sun, a hint of a burn forming on his shoulders and you were mentally running through the list of odd items collected in your cell to see if you had any aloe you could offer him before that started to peel. When you continued to stare Glenn cleared his throat and nudged you.

“Sorry, what’s up?” You asked.

“Ya wanna see how to check the traps?”

You’d been bugging for weeks to help in a capacity greater than sitting around in this tower everyday but you imagined the most you’d get was babysitting duty or helping Hershel should anyone feel a little under the weather. The only thing more surprising than being given an actual task was that Daryl was the one offering up his assistance.

“Yeah, totally.” Way to sound like an adult, you nearly cringed at the sound of your own overtly excited voice.

Being outside the fence again you were bombarded with the same feelings you’d been fending off before you met the group. That anxious bubble of dread was just under your skin and you could feel yourself zoning out. It didn’t help that Daryl was just a few steps ahead of you, leading the way further into the woods as scenarios of all the ways this could go bad ran through your mind.

That and how good Daryl made living in the middle of an apocalypse look. How could someone manage to look both gross and fuckable at the same time? Maybe it said less about him and more about your absolute devotion to this infatuation with him that you were thinking about how much you wanted him to shove you up against a tree right in the middle of the fucking forest.

“Ya paying attention?” Daryl’s voice broke your concentration and you looked up at him. He was already halfway through disarming one of the snares to check for anything inside. A rabbit.

“Uh, yeah.” You nodded and bit your lip.

“Here, put this in the bag.”

“That’s what this bag is for?” You asked, grimacing as you took the dead rabbit and laid it in the tote bag slung over your shoulder.

“What’d ya think it was fer?” He looked at you like you were the stupidest person on earth.

You could only shake your head and shrug. Honestly he could have stood there and told you exactly what the bag was for and you would still have no idea. You had a terrible habit of zoning out whenever Daryl was talking to you. The movement of his hands and his lips and the way he looked when he was trying to find the right words to explain something was one of your favorite things and your mind went more than a little haywire trying to take in all of it at once.

“Come on, we got three more to check.” He kept walking and you stood there for a minute, letting him get ahead of you before you finally caught up.

“How’d it go?” Glenn asked, leaning on the door frame of your cell.

You frowned, lifting your leg so he could see the bandage that Hershel had to wrap your ankle in. Distracted, as it were, you had taken a rather nasty fall that resulted in what Hershel determined was a sprained ankle. Naturally you had tripped up right in front of Daryl, embarrassing but not entirely unfortunate because he carried you back to the prison.

“I fell.”

“I heard.” He smiled, clearly trying not to laugh out loud at you.

“Who told you?” You were sure that everyone was talking about what an absolute waste of space you were, especially now, but you wouldn’t mind knowing exactly who was spreading news of your fall.

“Daryl told Rick about it.” Glenn said, “told him you’re too distracted out there. I said you never have a problem when we go on runs.”

“Why cause you hate me?” You grumbled, standing carefully, “I should apologize.”

“For the upteenth time?”

“Yes.�� In actuality you’d been so embarrassed over the entire ordeal that you hadn’t apologized at all. You had just fumbled over your words until you decided it was probably better to just stay quiet. But you felt guilty that Daryl had agreed to take you out there and you had fucked the whole thing up by being your usual self and getting far too distracted by everything about him to pay attention to even the ground you were walking on.

Daryl wasn’t hard to find, sitting at the base of the stairs that led up to the second level of cells. He was whittling the end of a stick, probably making a new arrow. You’d watched him make them plenty of times before, though that made you sound like some stalker. He looked up as you lowered yourself on to the step beside him. Your heart was pounding against your chest and your hands felt clammy from being so nervous.

If you could be half as confident in front of him as you were in the millions of daydreams you had about him.

“I’m sorry, about earlier.” You confided, “I didn’t mean to be so lousy out there.”

“Ain’t yer fault, yer outta practice.” He shrugged. Nicer than he had to be.

The part of his conversation with Rick that Glenn had left out was how he lost any composure, resentful that Rick had even considered sending you out there in the woods. Even if it was just to check snares. When you’d fallen Daryl had been terrified that you were more seriously hurt than just a sprained ankle and you had laid there while he checked you for any other injuries. Then he’d carried you back to the prison as quickly as possible, aware that you were in a compromised position if any walkers showed up. He was pissed, to say the least, not that Rick had suggested taking you out to the woods but that Rick had thought you would be okay to check snares after you hadn’t been on the other side of the prison in months.

“I still feel guilty, I could’ve gotten us killed.” And now you were apologizing like the whole thing was your fault.

“Wouldn’t a let that happen.” Daryl replied, eyes still trained on his arrow. It was easier to talk to you when he had something to occupy himself, so that all his concentration wasn’t on you. Or the way you smiled. Being in the woods with you was hard enough.

“I know you wouldn’t have, I just mean...I totally compromised us.”

“Like I said, it ain’t yer fault.” Daryl was adamant that you understand that he was not mad at you. Himself, yes, but you. Never.

As many hours as you wasted sitting on that watchtower and keeping an eye on whatever he was doing, he was watching you as well. Sometimes he would come in the kitchen area and sit there fiddling with his crossbow just so he could be around you while you helped Carol. Or he would offer to help you anytime you were tasked with a job. He knew nothing would ever come of it, even in the world the way it was now there were social standings and he knew you would never be interested in someone like him.

“When yer healed up we’ll go out again. Just ta get used ta being out there. Ain’t gotta do anything.”

“A nice walk in the woods together?” You asked, smiling at him. You could think up a million scenerios in which the two of you were out there together, walking in the woods with the seasons changing. None of them involving snares or runs or walkers.

“So long as ya don’t trip over yerself again.”

“It was an accident! You said it wasn’t my fault.”

Daryl grinned, looking away from you so you couldn’t see the change in facial expression but you caught it just in time. Your own smile appeared, maybe it wasn’t so far fetched that he could like you.

taglist: @thinkingsofamadwoman @mixedwiththemoon @titty-teetee @queenmissfit @marvelismylifffe @iluvmesomemarvelndc @absentmindeduniverse @his-paradox @medievalfangirl @gigilame @sabertooth-potato @enrapturedbythemoon @cbarter @onemorebeautifulnightmare @born-in-19-96 @mainokutan @uh-i-think-its-frank @nikki082489 @qrangr @twdeadfanfic

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #Daryl Dixon fanfic #twd fanfiction #twd au #twd imagine #twd fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead fanfic #collecting stories imagine #cs discography series

337 notes · View notes

sareyen · 4 years ago

Text

The Price of Hope (Cherik): Part 4/4

Read on ao3

Legion (2010) AU: The apocalypse is coming, and the key to humankind’s survival lies in a pregnant waitress and a rag-tag group of strangers, all broken in their own ways. Charles, the oldest of the archangels, sacrifices everything - his wings, his Gift, Erik - to help the humans that Heaven has given up on. Because, he believes, that even if they stumble and lose their way, it doesn’t mean that they are lost forever.

Chapter 4

“…for they cannot die anymore,

because they are equal to angels and are sons of God,

being sons of the resurrection.”

Luke 20:36

“Oh, God,” Moira said, watching as liquid began to drip from beneath Raven’s skirt. “Oh, God. Does anyone know how to deliver a baby?!”

For some reason, everyone immediately turned to Charles, too used to the angel having all the answers. Charles looked as blank as they did, though, and it was then that they realised that angels weren’t born the same way as humans.

Suddenly, Angel brushed past the group consisting of frozen humans and an angel, kneeling beside Raven and hoisting her to her shaky feet.

“Calm down, everyone, Jesus – no offence,” Angel said, turning to Charles who just shook his head. “I’ve delivered a baby before. One of the… girls got pregnant, and I had to… Anyway. We need to get her to the couch in the staff room. Sean, get us some cool cloth and a bucket of water. Moira, try to find some clean towels, and something for Raven to bite on. And Hank… just follow me for moral support.”

Hank looked pale and drawn, but nodded, following Angel and Raven while everyone else sprang into action.

“This is not what I’m trained for,” Logan said curtly, muttering that he’ll keep watch from the roof, Alex saying the exact same thing and following him there. Darwin made himself busy preparing food, since he figured everyone was going to need their sustenance, considering Raven was about to give birth to the saviour of humankind and they had just fended off the backwater diner from a second invasion of angel-possessed vessels.

Soon, Charles was left alone in the front of the diner. It was far from silent – everyone could hear Raven’s screams through the closed door of the staff room and there was the sizzle and clatter of pans as Darwin cooked in the kitchen, but Charles’s mind itself was deathly quiet.

Slowly, Charles cleared a space in the centre of the diner, pushing away debris and shell casings with his feet, which were still bare and red with cuts and welts, blackened with dirt and soot. His feet were far from their usual milky white and smooth appearance, and Charles had only seen himself so covered in muck once before, a time long, long ago, when someone else had hated humans with every fibre of their being.

Charles had fought against that person to protect these humans back then, but it had been so very, very different. Charles had his wings, for one.

And back then, he had not stood alone.

Charles softly lowered himself to his knees, buried in the silence, and closed his eyes before tilting his head up to Heaven.

‘I know You have taken away my Gift, and I know that You do not want to hear what I have to say, but I will say it anyway. Please let this child live. Please let them all live. There is still good in them, I’ve seen it. Feel it. I feel it, here and now. So please, give them another chance.’

Charles paused, sucking in a breath as the wind seemed to whistle at the walls of the diner.

‘But if you don’t give them a chance, then I will forge one myself with the power I have left. I will prove to you that they are worthy of their existence, because the people here – Moira, Logan, Alex, Sean, Darwin, Angel, Hank, Raven – their hearts are pure.’

‘They are proof that hope is not lost.’

The wind picked up for a brief second, battering at the windows. Then, all was silent once more, and Charles believed that to be His answer.

‘Very well. You will send him then, won’t you. Is that kindness? Or cruelty? Sometimes Your will still confuses me.��

Charles’s eyes then opened when a chorus of cries erupted from behind the closed doors, and Charles knew, even before Moira had rushed out with frantic elation, that the child had been born.

“What’s his name?” Charles asked as he walked in to see Raven sitting up on the couch, drenched in sweat and thighs reddened with the evidence of the birth, a weary but resolute smile on her pretty face.

“Kurt,” Raven murmured, looking at Hank, whose arm was draped over her shoulders protectively.

“Kurt,” Charles echoed, tongue wrapping around the name.

“Not angelic enough for you?” Raven asked, raising a brow, finding the energy to tease through the grips of her exhaustion.

“No,” Charles said, lip curling. “It’s not angelic at all. It’s very human, and that’s why it’s perfect.”

Everyone in the room shared a smile, until there was the crack of thunder outside, startling everyone. Logan and Alex rushed down from the roof, Darwin popping his head in as thunder clapped and lightning arced through the sky.

For some reason, everyone thought they could hear the thump of drums and a chorus of trumpets, carried by the thunder and the wind.

“He’s coming,” Charles whispered, heart twisting. “You have to go. Now.”

“Who’s coming?” Logan asked, already beginning to lift his gun, Charles’s voice grave.

“The possessed can’t touch the child, now that he has been born. He is… sacred. Bu He has sent someone who can harm the child,” Charles murmured, Raven’s eyes growing wide, the young girl clutching her child closer to her chest.

“They’re still going to try and kill Kurt? After he’s been born?” Raven asked, Charles nodding.

“He’s sent him, to finish the job. The job I was originally sent to do,” Charles said, everyone flinching at Charles’s admission that he, as an angel, had been ordered to kill the people sitting on the ratty staff couch in front of him.

“Who, Charles?”

“Someone like me,” Charles said slowly as the thunder grew louder and louder, getting closer and closer.

“You mean another angel?” Hank asked, glasses slipping from his sweaty nose bridge.

“Not a regular angel, not like the ones possessing the vessels,” Charles said, trying to still his trembling hands, balling them into fists. “An archangel. The one that I believe is the strongest of us all.”

And the one I hold most dear.

“An archangel,” Alex said flatly, expression pinched. “So, he’s more powerful than those things outside? More powerful than… you?”

“If I still had my Gift then I could maybe subdue him, but he has God at his back,” Charles said, wounds on his back burning like a brand. “And he has always been strong and unwavering in his convictions.”

And I am too soft-hearted to kill him.

As everyone began to try and digest what Charles had said, the earth began to shake violently – the walls vibrated, plaster and stone turning into dust as cracks split in horizontal lines along the walls. Charles yelled something, but couldn’t be heard over the noise, everyone ducking low for cover as the roof of the diner was lifted clean off its walls, revealing a pitch-black sky cracked with lightning.

The humans screamed as they dropped to their knees, arms over their head to shield themselves from the debris as the roof was levitated off, crumbling to pieces around the diner.

Charles alone stood, eyes trained on the figure hovering in the sky with large, strong wings, face cut with shadows illuminated by the lightning.

Erik looked down at Charles through his war helmet, one that he hadn’t worn since the War in Heaven. Back then, Charles had worn a similar helm, the two side-by-side, wings beating as one.

But now, they stood on opposite sides and moments away from a battle – one that would only end when one of them perished.

Charles was not clairvoyant, for that was solely His power, but he knew the odds. It was not only because of his lack of wings and the loss of his power that he knew that his long existence was likely to end today, but the fact that, even now, Charles could not bear the thought of killing Erik.

Not Erik.

Because Charles was as merciful as he was soft-hearted.

And Erik had always said that would be the end of him.

***

Heaven burned.

Charles should have seen it coming. Yes, he had the gift of minds and not of foresight, but he should have picked up on the unsaid signs festering in Sebastian’s – no, he called himself Klaus now – mind. But Charles had been too trusting of his archangel brothers and sisters and did not see their treachery.

Power. Power had been the impetus, the driving force. Seb- Klaus had been overcome by it and it had corrupted him, for he was surely not born corrupted. He had gifted Klaus with the power to control power, and in Klaus’s egotistical mind he had thought that meant that he was power absolute.

Klaus had long been unhappy with his place in Heaven. He did not like being ordered to do His bidding, he did not like how he was always going to be the second archangel, always after Charles, never the most beloved. Even Charles himself had passed over Klaus for Erik.

And the humans. Klaus spat as his mind uttered the word. Klaus did not understand why the humans were held in such high regard, why they were so loved when they were weak and could break with the snap of his fingers. Klaus did not know why everyone loved the humans more than an archangel like him, an archangel that was the most powerful of all the angels.

So, Klaus waged war on Heaven. He turned a few of the other angels to his side; Emma, who had the Gift to harden her physical body into diamond and the only being able to repel Charles’s Gift naturally. Azazel, who could manifest his corporeal anywhere out of thin air. And Janos, who was a master of the wind.

Klaus had tried to recruit Erik in his rebellion against Heaven, and maybe, maybe, Erik had been momentarily tempted by the idea. Erik had, at first, loved the humans, seeing them through Charles’s eyes. But, over time, he had begun to see that the humans were not deserving of their love.

But then Charles had looked at him with those blue eyes, weeping, and saying that war and death is not the right path. That peace could never come from such a dark and tumultuous campaign. Sitting on their cloud, Charles had pressed his forehead to Erik’s, gently nudging warmth and love and hope through their bond; briefly, Charles had shown Erik the potential of these humans, who were like infants still learning to walk. They were young, so, so young, and should be given another chance.

And how could Erik abandon Charles then? Abandon the humans that Charles held so much faith in? Even if some of the things Klaus lauded resonated within Erik, the desire to protect Charles and their Heaven meant more to him.

Back then, Erik still had hope.

Shaw and the other three archangels swooped in the skies of Heaven, brandishing their weapons as they lay waste to marble buildings and pristine pillars. The lesser angels were no match for the four rebel archangels, and with only Charles, Erik and Selene able to hold them back, Heaven was on fire.

Klaus cackled as he raised his hand, sending a powerful blast towards Charles, who was kneeling on the ground with his fingers pressed against his temple. The angel was already bleeding, red trickling down his forehead and dripping onto his white armour. Charles’s face was strained as he became locked in a mental battle with Emma while trying to coordinate the efforts of the other angels defending their home.

Erik saw Klaus mounting an attack on the momentarily unprotected Charles, letting out a growl and thrusting his hand out, sending the swords of slayed angels hurtling towards Klaus, sharp blades gleaming in the sunlight.

Erik’s display of his might made Klaus grin, the expression making Erik grit his teeth.

“What a waste of your potential, Erik,” Klaus laughed, voice echoing over the screams of his brothers and sisters. “Why do you fight for a hopeless cause? On behalf of those humans who are too weak to fend for themselves?”

Erik did not answer him, just steeled his gaze and raised his arms – metal swirled around him, a tornado of steel and iron rivalling Janos’s, before letting out a yell and sending it spiralling towards Shaw.

Shaw just laughed again, letting the debris collide with his divine form, which rippled and absorbed everything. Suddenly, Shaw released all of the energy Erik’s attack had charged him with, Erik cursing and beating his wings, swooping out of Shaw’s line of fire.

“Erik!” Charles called out, wobbling to his feet as Erik saw Emma’s diamond form turning back into soft flesh and golden hair, her wings freezing as she dropped from the sky. Charles sucked in a tight, exhausted breath after his confrontation with Emma, but forced himself to launch his form into the air to meet Erik.

“Emma?” Erik asked, forcing out the question when all he wanted to do was crush Charles to his chest and wipe away the blood flowing from his wounds.

“I dealt with her. It took a long time to break through her shields, but I only had to find the crack in her defences,” Charles said, dark circles under his eyes despite the small smile he held on his face that was like a ray of sunlight in the darkness.

“And Janos? Azazel?”

“Some of the younger angels have subdued them, using sheer numbers against their power,” Charles said, mind pushing ‘teamwork and family conquers all’. “And, some of the younger angels are quite powerful. Ororo and Jean show great potential.”

“So now it’s only Klaus,” Erik said, Charles nodding. “Charles, he is power itself. How are we supposed to suppress him?”

“That, my friend,” Charles said, pressing his hand against Erik’s leather-clad chest, lighting a fire inside him, “has a simple solution.”

Erik raised a brow as Charles smiled, determination set into his features.

“It’s you and I, Erik. Even Klaus, absolute power, will be rendered obsolete if we work together.”

Charles’s words had been proven true, even if he were not a clairvoyant or future-seer. Klaus fell from Heaven, and his lieutenants punished. Heaven still stood, and Charles and Erik were still an unbreakable force.

At least, until they themselves broke apart.

***

Logan was the first to fire, aiming his sights at Erik who hovered in the air. Erik just smirked as the bullet – metal – bounced off his wings like they were nothing but dust. Erik flicked his wrist, the gun quickly wrenched from Logan’s arms – and everyone else’s – and hurled onto the ground, twisted into a lumps of useless metal and gunpowder.

“Erik!” Charles yelled, rushing forwards, capturing his friend’s attention with a single cry of his name, so familiar on his tongue. “Don’t do this!”

“You still try protect them, Charles? When you know how this will end?” Erik said coldly, descending from the skies with the beat of his wings. All of the humans gaped at him – they had long believed in Charles’s spiel about angels, but it was different seeing one, wings and all, in the flesh.

“I have hope,” Charles said simply, Erik’s lips pulling back in anger.

“After all they have done? After all of the pain and suffering they have caused?”

“You believe they’re all like those men you’ve seen with darkness in their hearts. But listen to me very carefully, my friend. They are not all without hope. There are good, honest, innocent humans that have been born, that live and breathe on this earth, in this room, right now. Why do you seek to judge them all based on the actions of a few?” Charles asked, stepping closer to Erik, eyes locked. Erik appeared to stiffen as Charles walked closer while discarding his gun with a clatter on the ground.

“We’ve tried it your way, Charles. So many times,” Erik said, letting out a shuddering breath when Charles stepped in closer. Though shorter than Erik, Charles seemed to fill up the space in front of the winged angel. Charles raised his hands, cupping Erik’s cheeks, hindered slightly by his harsh helmet.

“Erik, you once said that our kind is superior,” Charles said, leaning in close enough so he could feel the flutter of Erik’s breath across his cheek. “Now is the time to prove it. Killing them is not the answer, and will not bring the peace you want. Peace does not come with death – it comes with hope.”

Erik was silent, seeming to sway a little in Charles’s embrace, leaning in until their lips almost touched. And maybe they did, for a brief, brief moment, but it was too fleeting to be more than a dream.

“He has lost hope, and as have I,” Erik whispered, raising his hand as Charles screamed hastily.

“Everyone, run!” Charles cried out, using all of his energy to tackle Erik to the ground, the angel surprised by Charles’s sudden movement, the angel and the fallen dropping with a heavy thud.

Charles felt the humans scatter from behind him, grabbing whatever they could and piling into two cars that were parked out the front.

“Charles!” Erik seethed, flipping the two of them over with a beat of his wings, Charles unrelenting in his scrabble for purchase on Erik’s torso, attempting to pin the taller man to the ground.

“I won’t let you hurt them, Erik!” Charles replied, letting out a grunt as Erik pushed him off roughly by the ribs, Charles rolling on the ground. Erik raised a hand, about to pull on the threads of his power to pull the escaping vehicles back when Charles slammed into his body again, fist colliding with his face. Charles let out a pained hiss as Erik’s helmet sliced into his knuckles, red dripping down Charles’s pale arm.

“Charles, I don’t want to hurt you, I’m only here for the child!” Erik said, grabbing onto the back of Charles’s grey coat and wrenching him upwards into the air, throwing Charles against a broken wall. The wind was knocked out of Charles as he dropped to the floor tasting iron on his tongue.

“Well you’re going to have to go through me to get to Kurt,” Charles said, blue eyes growing hot as he picked up a long shard of wood, end jagged and pointed. Erik looked pained, but flicked his wrist, ripping rods of iron from amongst the plaster walls and directing them at Charles, attempting to loop them around the fallen’s wrists to subdue him, for Charles had been stripped of his powers and was no stronger than a human. The thought made Erik want to scream.

Charles dodged Erik’s projectiles, swatting them away with his makeshift wooden weapon and then swung at Erik, the taller angel parrying it with his metal gauntlet easily. Charles did not give up, though, even if his attacks did nothing but make Erik more and more agitated.

When Charles’s wooden weapon collided with Erik’s arm, the man let out a burst of his power, slamming the back of a gun into Charles’s face, sending him flying back with a loud crack.

“Charles, don’t make me hurt you!” Erik growled, pulling out the sword hanging by his waist, the familiar weapon gleaming as he slowly walked over to Charles, whose vision was spinning, his limbs struggling to pull himself up. Charles ached all over, but he had to stand. He had to, to give the humans a chance to get away.

“I… won’t let you… hurt… them,” Charles wheezed out, coughing a little, red spraying from his mouth. Erik shook, the grip around his sword tightening. Charles’s fingers fumbled around, grabbing onto a broken shard of glass, which sliced into his hand as he stood. Charles weakly pushed his body forward, swinging the shard of glass like a dagger, the glass shattering as it met with the hilt of Erik’s sword.

“Why do you make me do this?” Erik asked brokenly, voice shaking as his eyes grew wet. Charles grabbed onto the front of Erik’s armour, trying to pull him back and away from the humans he so desperately wanted to save. God, why does Charles continue to fight when he knows that he will not win?

Charles couldn’t hold himself up on his feet any longer, slumping onto the ground by Erik’s feet. Erik just stared at him, heart shattering as Charles stared up at him, trying to plead with him with those eyes Erik so loved. The eyes that held the colour of the sky, but not now – not with the clouds and the thunder obscuring everything that is bright.

“Charles, you don’t have the strength to stop me,” Erik said quietly, Charles letting out a grieving sob as Erik stepped backwards, towards the direction the humans had fled in. “Charles, wait here. Once I’ve dealt with them, I’ll come back for you. We can plead to Him together, and He will forgive you and we can-”

Suddenly, a bullet slammed itself against Erik’s helmet, ricocheting off the surface. The movement surprised even the metal-bending angel, whose head whipped to the source of the surprise attack.

“Charles!”

Logan, who had been driving, swerved sharply which brought the car to a skidding stop. Moira, who had been the shooter, immediately shot out of the passenger side and fired again.

Sean, Angel, Darwin and Alex got out of the car as well, pulling out their guns and firing.

Leaving Charles to sacrifice himself for their sake had not sit well with the rest of the group, and they had turned their car around after getting Raven and Hank to continue onwards in the second car, to get Kurt as far away as they could. If this angel was after the child, they had to go far, far away, and the rest of the group would do what they could to buy them time.

They knew that they were probably heading towards their deaths by returning, but they knew that if they didn’t they would die anyway – along with the entire world.

Erik seethed, jerking his hand out and slamming the offending bullet to the ground. Moira’s eyes widened, but she fired again, and again, and again, bullets meeting Erik’s invisible wall, bending to the left, right, upwards. The others began shooting as well, and Erik roared, the bullets crumpling into useless lumps at his feet.

And then, Moira shot again, the bullet travelling directly towards Erik’s face and, instinctively, the angel deflected it downwards.

Erik, through the tingling sense of the metal he controlled, could feel the moment the bullet pierced through something warm and soft before lodging into a solid structure, hard yet brittle. Moira dropped the gun as Logan watched, the hardened man faltering, as a short gasp echoed through the air.

Erik turned his head, just in time to see Charles fall. Erik’s heart plummeted, his vision tunnelling as everything inside him screamed.

Before Erik even registered it he was on his knees, pulling Charles into his arms, sword abandoned on the ground as he tugged on the deflected bullet lodged inside Charles’s body. Erik felt it slip out, far too wet with blood – Charles’s blood – and blunt at the end where it had collided with Charles’s spine after tearing its way through his chest cavity.

Charles’s eyes were wide, mouth open in a silent cry as blood gurgled into his lungs and up his throat.

“Charles, Charles!” Erik yelled, body frozen as he held Charles, not sure what to do because Charles’s chest was rattling unnaturally and his blue eyes were growing dimmer and dimmer, the light in them fading away.

Charles moved his mouth, trying to say something, but could only cough up crimson blood.

Erik then remembered – it was the human who shot this bullet, the bullet that ripped a hole in Charles’s chest. A bullet that was killing Charles.

Erik turned his head towards the woman – Moira – and clenched his fist. The necklace around the woman’s neck constricted and she was lifted up into the air, choked noise lodged in her windpipe as she flailed around with pitiful futility, hands tugging uselessly at the metal wound around her throat.

“You did this,” Erik said, voice thunderous despite its quietness, fist shaking as he squeezed and squeezed and squeezed.

Or did I do this to you, Charles?

Suddenly, Erik felt a hand tugging at his raised arm, shaking but determined, though his grip was not as strong as it usually was. Erik’s hand immediately dropped under the weight that pressed down on him.

Charles’s hand squeezed his arm, a plead for Erik to look at him. Erik couldn’t say no, not now, not when Charles – God – Charles was bleeding out in his arms, far too mortal. The man felt like a hollow, flimsy piece of paper in Erik’s embrace, too light without his wings, too empty without his Gift.

“Charles,” Erik said, unable to say anything else. Charles’s forced his mouth to remained closed, lest he begin coughing up blood again, and made his mouth curve up into a gentle smile. Erik’s eyes blurred as he noticed Charles’s skin begin to glow, the man’s body burning up, disappearing.

“No, no, Charles,” Erik chanted, begged. “No, don’t leave me. This isn’t what I wanted. I need you by my side. No, Charles. No. Oh, God, don’t do this. Not Charles. Please, God. No.”

Charles began glowing more and more, his hand rising to cup Erik’s face, before trembling to brush a tender caress across his cheek.

And then, Erik could hear him, that voice nestled inside his head that was so quiet it was almost imaginary.

‘Good bye, old friend.’

***

Charles and Erik had talked about fear, once. A silly human weakness, Erik had always thought.

But deep down, he knew that he feared one thing. He feared it so much that he pushed it down, down, down, to the very depths of his being so that he never thought about it, never considered it. For Erik, pushing it out of his mind meant that it did not exist, and if his one fear did not exist, then he had no fears at all.

But oh, Erik feared. Erik was terrified of one thing, a thing that he never thought could pass; because angels were immortal, and Charles was the oldest and most beloved of them all. Charles, who would never be forsaken by Him, who would always be basked in His light.

Erik, whose sole fear was losing Charles, had his fear realised today.

Erik had been tasked with bringing upon the apocalypse, the end of the world.

Erik hadn’t realised that his world would end with it.

Charles body had burst into a beam of light, so blinding that Erik’s eyes had to close. When they reopened, his arms were no longer full of a man with chestnut hair and ocean blue eyes, a man that smiled up at Erik like he always did, in a way that said ‘It’ll all be alright, my friend’.

But how could things be alright when Charles was gone?

Gone to a place where even Erik could not follow.

And Charles had sacrificed himself for what?

For the humans?

Yes, the humans. The humans who not only took everything away from their own kind, but everything away from Erik.

Erik felt the humans, the humans that killed Charles, move away in a car full of metal. Metal, metal like the bullet I sent into Charles's chest. Erik smiled something terrifying, his teeth clashing as the lightning flashed overhead.

Slowly, Erik stood, stretching his wings before launching into the air, the sound of vengeance singing in his blood.

***

‘Run.’

The humans could hear Charles’s voice in their heads, which was a wholly strange and startling sensation, but one they heeded. Their lives – and humanity’s – depended on it.

“What the fuck do we do?!” Sean screeched as Logan slammed on the accelerator, wheels squealing across the dirt.

“Charles died,” Alex said, followed by a string of curses, gripping onto his gun with one hand and the back of the passenger seat with the other to steady himself, the car lurching down the highway. “What the hell are we supposed to do now that Charles is dead?! He’s the only one who knows what the fuck is happening!”

“Well, as long as Hank, Raven and the baby get away, that means we still have hope, right? That means that we can still stop the apocalypse?” Angel said hastily, everyone giving each other lost glances.

“Charles never explained why Kurt is the key,” Alex said, everyone groaning.

“Maybe he’s the second coming of Christ or something. Who the fuck knows, man?” Sean said. “What I do know is that we have to get the fuck out of here because we’re definitely on the hit list of that angry angel dude!”

Suddenly, the car swerved violently, everyone screaming.

“Logan, what the hell?!” Alex cursed as the car spun, Logan’s rough hands jerking desperately against the steering wheel that seemed to rebel against his commands.

“It’s not me!” Logan growled as the metal of the car rattled violently. The rusted car hummed, the thrumming noise building to crescendo into a loud screeching noise as the car was pulled side to side, like a child playing with a Hot Wheels toy.

“Oh, shit! It’s him! He’s here!” Angel yelled, peering out the back of the car and jerking her hand into the sky.

“What?!”

“Oh, hell no,” Moira grimaced, heart shaking erratically when she saw what Angel was gesturing to – it was that man, Erik, the angel sent to wipe them all out. The angel sent to finish what Charles could not bring himself to do.

“Is he controlling the car?” Darwin shouted over the ringing of the metal.

“Beats me, kid! All I know is that we’ve got to get the hell out of this car. It’s a fucking death trap!” Logan gritted between his sharp teeth, muscles straining to try and regain control of the wayward vehicle that had been pulled off the pot-hole covered asphalt and onto the undulating rolls of sand and dirt of the rural desert.

Logan slammed his feet on the brakes, the car rattling and swerving through the sand.

“We’ve gotta jump!” Logan said, everyone screaming and looking at him with incredulity in their panicked gazes.

“Are you insane?” Angel screamed, the car’s roof suddenly making a grating noise, the centre beginning to punch inwards. The doors of the car rattled, hinges snapping, as the walls of the vehicle began to crinkle like someone was bundling up the car in their fist, a mere can of soda being crushed.

“Oh, God, we’re gonna die!” Sean cried out as Darwin and Alex kicked out the doors, wind rushing inside the car. Moira opened the passenger door while Logan kicked the driver’s side out, adrenaline ripe in the air.

“Jump!” Logan ordered, hurtling himself out of the car, followed by Darwin, Alex and Moira. Sean and Angel both screamed as they threw themselves moments after everyone else, just seconds before the car imploded into an array of metal shards and ignited fuel.

Heat flared from the explosion, which sent a storm of sand and dust erupting into the air, everyone’s vision clouded by red.

Everyone let out pained grunts as they collided with the sand, the tough granules chafing their skin and coating their mouths.

“Everyone alive?” Logan grunted, Darwin raising his hand from where he was half-buried in the sand, Alex letting out an affirmative groan. Sean spluttered sand from his mouth while Angel shook out her coat, Moira shaking her head to get rid of the ringing noise that had slammed into her when she collided with the ground.

The group barely had any time to celebrate their survival when dust plumed up again when something landed hard on the sand.

Angel, who had been pulling herself up, was suddenly slammed face-down into the sand as her legs were tugged backwards out from under her – the force sent the metal zipper on her boots to fly off as she let out a pained noise.

“Oh, shit!” Alex yelled as the dust cleared, revealing an angel with the face of a demon. Rage dripped from every curve on Erik’s body, rippling with anguish and unbridled fury. The angel was beautiful in a way that was terrifying, especially now with the harsh jut of his jaw and the firm lines of his brows and the darkness in his light eyes.

Erik eyed the humans in an almost detached eeriness, and yet heat swirled and rolled inside of him, a brewing storm that needed an outlet. And an outlet he found, raising his shaking hands to pull at the metal hanging from the humans’ bodies – Angel’s boots, the eyelets of Alex’s shoes, Darwin’s belt, Logan’s dog tags, Sean’s bracelets and Moira’s necklace.

All of the humans screamed as the metal around them hoisted them into the air, but the ones with the metal around their necks were only able to scream silently.

Logan, face growing red and veins bulging, gripped at his dog tags and let out a strained grunt as he ripped the chain links apart with his burly hands, dropping into the sand. Logan didn’t bother to suck in a breath as he bolted across the desert, throwing his jacket off to discard the metal of his zipper, lunging at Erik with a roar.

Logan’s arms wound around Erik’s torso, brute force slamming into the avenging angel. Erik thought, for a second, that this human was strong, Logan’s tackle sending Erik and his wings back-first into the sand.

Logan’s efforts made Erik’s attention waver for a moment, his grip on the metal around the other humans faltering enough for them to drop to the ground, hiccupping and gasping for air.

“Get rid of all your metal!” Logan growled as he struggled against Erik in the sand, trying to hurt the angel that just returned his blows with cold amusement, thin lips spreading in a chilling grin.

“Weak,” Erik spat, jerking his wings to conjure up a flurry of sand and air that offset Logan’s hold on him, the man flying backwards in an arc.

“Logan!” Darwin called, rushing to the man who shrugged him off, running towards Erik again.

Erik just watched as the humans struggled – their efforts were pitiful, really. Like watching ants struggling to stay afloat in a pool of water. Erik just watched as they squirmed and tried to unwrite the fate already written for them, but couldn’t quite find the words.

When Logan sprung up, Erik knocked him back with a sheet of metal pulled off the burning car, the man’s head snapping to the side at the force.

After Logan, Darwin tried to subdue Erik, but did not fare any better. Nor did Alex. Nor did Angel. Nor did Sean. And nor did Moira.

Still, Erik kept watching the humans pick themselves up from the sand, not caring that they were covered head to toe in it. Angel tried to circle around Erik to subdue him from behind, but he just snapped his wings back and sent her flipping. Alex swung at him, but Erik swatted him away with the back of his hands without any effort. And Moira, Moira tried shooting at him again, and that made Erik angry. The foolish human clearly hadn’t learnt her lesson the first time, but the first time was already one time too much because Charles…

Charles is no longer here.

Erik watched as the humans squirmed in the sand, still trying to fight him even when it was obvious that they could not win. Erik didn’t know how to feel – he thought he would feel more pleasure in eradicating these humans, but there was this small, inane buzzing at the back of his mind saying ‘There’s more to you, Erik. More than just this pain and anger. There’s good in you, too’.

Erik paused, the humans now struggling to get back up again. It reminded Erik of something Charles had done a long time ago.

“Those with power should protect those without,” Charles had said as he hovered over the body of an injured young boy, whose stepbrother had just pushed him down a gaudy set of stairs in an opulent mansion. The boy’s left leg was twisted unnaturally and he was in so much pain that he even forgot how to cry. The step-brother hovered at the top of the stairs, snivelling down at the injured boy, when Charles turned his eyes to him. The human did not see Charles, of course – no one could see Charles, not unless he wanted them to.

Charles then pressed his fingers over his temple, the boy at the top of the stairs growing still and his face growing slack, eyes glazing over.

“You will find no interest in this boy any longer. You will not hurt him, you will not target him. You will leave him alone,” Charles said slowly, the putrid youth’s mouth mirroring Charles’s words. When Charles dropped his fingers from his head, the boy at the stairs blinked, shaking his head like there was something stuck in his ear, before turning around and disappearing down the hall.

The broken boy stared at the retreating back of his step-brother, confused and too used to the boy sauntering downstairs to finish the job, to make sure that he was so broken that there was no hope in him being able to put himself back together.

But this time, Charles just smiled as the young boy pushed himself from the ground, biting hard as his leg screamed with pain, eyes alive and vibrant.

Why did these humans remind Erik of the boy with the broken leg, the one Charles protected out of nothing but the goodness of his heart?

But these humans weren’t like that boy; that boy was a child, and had done no wrong. These humans, however… they were no innocents.

The humans slumped in the sand, bodies weak as Erik stood before them, a pillar of power unrelenting. Erik ground his teeth, raising his sword, eyes closing for a moment as Charles’s image flashed in his mind. Charles, who would likely hate what Erik was doing right now.

Charles, who died because of these humans.

In a wave of anguish, Erik gripped his sword tighter, his power surging out as the metal shards from the exploded car swirled into the air above the heads of the kneeling humans, who leaned into one another while staring at Erik, obstinate and defiant.

‘Stubborn to the death. So very human,’ Erik thought to himself as he pushed at his power, bringing down the shards to eliminate the humans whose hands were soiled with Charles’s blood.

But suddenly, the desert was surrounded by white. Light poured out from nowhere and everywhere, blinding and all-consuming. Erik’s mind went blank for a moment, his grip on the metal diffusing into nothing. Silver and steel dropped from a sky like fractals.

Then, once the flash of brilliance cleared, everyone’s mouths were hanging open.

Red lips were curled up in a smile that held the edges of a smirk, milky skin incongruous with the red of the desert. White robes fluttered amongst the dust, pristine and untouched, while slightly wavy brown hair swayed across a smooth forehead, tickling dark lashes that framed two sapphire eyes that burned yet calmed. And wings – wings like white ivory, soft yet regal, rippling with energy – splayed out across the horizon.

The newcomer’s eyes cast a cursory glance over the group of awe-struck humans, before settling on the vengeful angel before them.

“Charles?” Erik whispered, dropping to his knees, sword falling blade-first into the red sand.

Indeed, it was Charles. Charles. Charles, whom Erik thought lost forever. Erik’s Charles, who was standing before him whole, perfect and alive.

‘Hello, old friend,’ Charles gently coaxed into the turmoil of Erik’s mind, his anger and grief and all-consuming need for vengeance fizzling out into the abyss. Charles could sense all of those feelings – those very human feelings – and sucked in a tight breath, stepping towards the other angel.

No one could say anything when Charles stopped directly in front of Erik, the kneeling angel letting out a shuddering breath and reaching out desperately, wrapping his smoothly muscled arms around Charles’s waist before pressing his face to his stomach. Charles laughed, his belly rippling, and Erik cried.

‘I thought you…’ Erik thought, the words almost incoherent in the overwhelming mixture of flavours in his heart – elation, fear, regret, relief, love. So many things swirled around inside Erik, pouring over Charles until he was submerged in it. Charles held them to his chest as he returned Erik’s embrace, cradling the angel’s head against his body, fingers twining through his hair.

‘I know,’ Charles murmured through the newly rekindled thread between his and Erik’s mind, his spirit curling up in the Charles-shaped space in Erik’s very being.

‘How? I saw you… die,’ Erik pushed towards Charles, his words cracking with anguish even though they weren’t spoken aloud. ‘Just… how?’

“I told you, darling,” Charles said softly, tugging Erik up by the leather straps across his shoulders, smoothing his hands around Erik’s neck when the man stood until he towered over him. Charles stared into Erik’s grey eyes, a little glossy, before rising and pressing a kiss to Erik’s lips, which parted in an unravelled gasp.

‘All you needed was a little faith, Erik,’ Charles spoke in Erik’s mind, the taller angel letting out a breathless laugh against Charles’s plush mouth, slipping his arms around the revived angel’s waist and drawing him closer. Their torsos were pressed flush and welded together, their mouths slotting together seamlessly.

When Erik and Charles pulled apart, lips slick and mouths reddened, they pressed their foreheads together.

“Never leave me again,” Erik whispered, Charles humming.

“Mm. Let’s go home. Our work here is done, since He no longer wishes for the world to be razed to ashes,” Charles said, now turning to the collection of gobsmacked humans.

When Erik followed Charles’s gaze to them, they immediately bristled, stumbling back in fear. Erik just huffed, curling his hand to call his sword back to its sheath with his powers, one arm placed at the small of Charles’s back and the other resting on the hilt of his weapon.

“Everyone, there is nothing to worry about,” Charles said, smiling serenely. “You did it. Even when all the odds were stacked against you, you persevered and never gave up. That’s why you were chosen.”

“That’s it?” Logan griped, narrowing his eyes at Charles. Charles just laughed, picking up on everyone’s incredulity at the sudden turn of events. “The world was ending, and now suddenly He is all chummy?”

“It’s because of you. All of you,” Charles said, smiling wider. “You made Him believe again. You gave Him hope. You, who have proven that there is still good in the world, even when all hope seems lost. That was what I sought to do – to help you prove yourselves, because I always knew that you had it in you.”

The humans were silent, processing what Charles was saying. As the seconds passed, the clouds began to part in the sky, allowing the repressed sun to bask everyone in its daylight glow. The sun seemed warm, like a caressing gaze, one that promised of many more sunsets to come.

Erik nudged Charles’s back, casting his eyes to the opening made in the sky. Charles gave his angel a fond look, leaning into his touch.

“Now, I’m afraid it’s time for me to return to my home,” Charles spoke, looking at the humans as he and Erik took a step back. “If I may ask one thing – please find Hank, Raven and the child, and let them know that they needn’t worry. They can live their lives without burden; they can raise the child in a world that they helped save.”

“We will,” Moira said, Charles nodding and offering her a gentle smile.

“Will we ever see you again?” Angel asked, Charles and Erik looking at each other, wings beating as their bodies lifted into the air and disappearing into the enveloping warmth of the sun.

‘Maybe. The future is not yet written – just have a little faith.’

***

“Dangerous,” Erik murmured against Charles’s mouth, the shorter man giggling as Erik flipped them over on the rooftop, hovering over his relaxed form.

“Hm?” Charles teased, nipping at Erik’s lips, taunting the angel with his tongue.

‘You. Your mouth. Everything. Just sinful,’ Erik groaned mentally, leaning down to seal his mouth over Charles’s more securely, tongue searching and finding what it wanted when Charles let out a low moan.

“Erik, darling, the children are here,” Charles panted, Erik grimacing when Charles pushed at his chest, widening the slither of space between them.

Turning his head to the side, Erik looked at the ‘children’ Charles referred to; Moira and Sean lead a group of children aged five to ten across the grassy field as Angel, Darwin and Sean trailed behind them. Alex, who gently nudged his younger brother’s back while spinning a soccer ball in his hand, smiled as he watched the children leaping across the field with excitement.

“Come on, Kurt,” Raven chuckled, patting her son’s shoulders, smooth soccer jersey as he stumbled when trying to keep up with the group of children. “The game is starting soon.” With a gap-toothed grin, Kurt darted forward, Raven giving Hank and amused look from where he walked beside her.

“Can you believe he’s already six? That all that was over five years ago now?” Raven asked, staring at the congregation of children on the field.

Hank looked at his wife fondly, tugging her into his side. Raven leaned her head on Hank’s shoulder, before looking into the sky and smiling.

After Hank and Raven had escaped with Kurt, it had taken a few weeks for the rest of the rag-tag crew to find them holed up in a seedy motel. Hank and Raven, who had been running on nothing more than adrenaline and desperation, had nearly collapsed when Darwin told them that the apocalypse had been called off, just like that.

Everyone had been left stumped about what to do; everything had changed that day at the diner, that day when they realised the angels and Heaven were real and that things could end in a heartbeat.

They couldn’t just return to their lives, not those meaningless existences where they all felt like something was missing, that they could be doing more.

So, they didn’t return to their old lives, but made one anew.

By luck or by fate – or by God’s graces – the group that had been touched by angels had stumbled onto a sprawling patch of land free for them to live in. It was a home that seemed to have been gifted to them by the angels, a blessing that they wanted to share with others.

So, their house became a home for more than just them, becoming a refuge for children who were alone and deserted, a home that gave them a chance at a better life.

The St Charles Institute.

The group had never seen any angels again – neither Charles nor Erik, nor any of the other archangels they knew existed. They often wondered if there were angels hidden from sight, silently watching over them, but they could never find proof.

They were right, of course; Charles had always been fond of humans, but this group more than most. Whenever he had time, Charles often flew down to earth to simply watch and bask in their happiness, a constant reminder that all was right.

Erik often came with Charles on his expeditions, since at first he was not comfortable with letting Charles out of his sight – not when the image of Charles disintegrating into deathly light had been so deeply engraved in his psyche.

Now, though, Erik had relaxed somewhat – after six years of watching this odd group of humans live their lives, and seeing Charles’s smile growing brighter and brighter with each passing day, Erik found that he had begun to enjoy the turning of time in the world of humans as well.

The world was definitely not perfect; war was still waged and vile humans spread pain and suffering, but that did not mean that all was lost. For all the bad that there was in the world, there was good in equal measure, it is only sometimes hard to look past the darkness to see the light.

Erik let out a little snort as he watched the tiny humans kick the black and white ball around while the fledgling adults laughed and cheered them on. The sounds of their laughter permeated the air, reaching the rooftop of the institute where Charles and Erik lounged, out of view.

Erik turned away from the peaceful scene when he felt Charles’s gaze tickling at his temple, the blue-eyed angel’s face soft with a smile that Erik kept close to his heart.

‘What are you thinking about, Charles?’ Erik asked, brushing his thumb across the slope of Charles’s smile, before tasting it with his lips.

Charles let out a gentle laugh against Erik’s mouth, reaching up to press two fingers to Erik’s temple, showing him.

Warmth, happiness, peace and love pulsed through Erik then, a mixture of all of the feelings Charles was picking up from the group downstairs, but also so distinctly feeling like Charles.

Charles, who was all things good and wonderful, because he was witness to all of the good in the world.

And because he had never given up on it, even when it was hard to find.

#cherik #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #x-men #x-men fic #marvel #professor x #magneto #ao3 #legion #james mcavoy #michael fassbender

8 notes · View notes

x--daughters-of-darkness--x · 5 years ago

Text

DELAIN: Chillin’ As Doomsday Approaches

In the band’s press release, you state that Apocalypse & Chill will surprise your listeners. What are some of these surprises you have in store for them?

We always write our music pretty organically, so we set out with every album to make it bigger, better, and louder. But it’s not like we’re going to completely change. We just go with whatever inspiration brings us. However, on this album there are some new elements. We’ve got a real choir, we’ve got Timo screaming, and we have full instrumental tracks, which we’ve never done before. There are definitely some parts where we really explored what we could do differently. And then what I mainly think will surprise our listeners is, especially in the first half of the record, the sound is very electronic, without going away from sounding like Delain. They’re all very much from a pop and electronic side of the spectrum. And I think that some of our fans who like us for our previous material, they will kind of be scratching their heads during the first half. But towards the second half of the album, it picks up on the orchestral elements again and becomes more symphonic. There’s plenty of new things on the record, but I definitely think that our fans will be able to appreciate what we’ve done.

How did these electronic influences creep in? Was there something specific you were listening to or interested in that made you want to incorporate it into your music?

I don’t know. I think that within the writing team, Martijn comes up with really 80s synth parts and I often come up with kind of like 90s dance parts. Those two mix well in our music. But it’s not like we said, “We’re going to incorporate this.” When we meet up to write, we all take some ideas with us, like a verse or a chorus or a theme or whatever. We sit down and listen to it and see what we want to work on all together. That’s how those ideas work themselves into the music.

With these ideas, themes, and lyrical inspirations, was there anything going on in your life or the world in general that catapulted these ideas into the songs?

Yeah, I think so. One thing that’s relevant for the way that we’d written this album is the fact that we’ve recorded it very fragmented. Martijn is a producer who really spearheaded this idea of “let’s do everything in several blocks of just a couple of songs” instead of in one go. Because first of all, we didn’t have enough time to have one big block for writing and recording and mixing the entire album because we’ve been touring like crazy. So, this gave us a lot of flexibility, but also the chance to go back on the songs now. All these ideas come from different places as well. But I must say that over the last few years, definitely a lot of it has been inspired by the concerns about the world today. If you open up a newspaper, if you turn on the TV, you see the world quite literally being on fire. And then if you open your socials, you’ll see everyone living their most perfect lives. There is this great contrast between the two where you wonder how can these actually exist at the same time and is this even the same world? And I think that contrast is also visible in the songs on our album.

The visual of the album cover and the promo photos have a 1950s cinematic movie star theme. Is that the concept or theme behind it?

It was really that contrast between the impending doom that you sense when you look at the news these days and then at the same time the complete projections that is very much the majority of things you see on socials. That was very interesting. Since it is so much about zeitgeist, Netflix and chill, it’s a very 2019 thing. So, we felt like the play on words was really fitting for this album. And then when I was playing with the idea of that title…it’s not like I think of a song first and then the title and then the artwork. Usually when you think of a title, there is an image in your head. Or when you think of the music, you see something, like you can imagine it. And for this title right away, I could imagine someone lounging while the world is on fire. I actually put this image together in Photoshop, but I am not a very practiced designer. We really liked that image. We’ve been also looking for images that were more towards the kind of covers that we usually have, like the more art nouveau/romantic/goth imagery, but it just didn’t fit the theme and the title as well as this one. What we eventually did to give it that identity and authenticity that my mockup was lacking, is we gave it to this collage artist. She works really analog. She cuts up images and papers and she reworked the image into what is now the cover and also continued that for the promo photos in the inside. Inside of the booklet you’ll find all of us wearing sunglasses and having different natural disasters reflected in our sunglasses. We put that topic throughout the entire artwork. Not that a lot of people get to see CD booklets these days, but for those who do buy the physical thing, we always try to give it something extra.

How did getting Beast in Black’s Yannis Papadopoulos to sing on “One Second” come about? Did you specifically write his part or realized after the fact that he’d be a good fit?

We realized afterwards that it would be a good fit. We really like working with guest musicians. It’s always a very nice surprise to see what other people, other creatives come up with when they listen to your music. Yannis, we’ve been in touch with him for a while. We met him in Greece. I remember during an after party at a show he taught me a bunch of Greek curse words! We had a few songs where we thought we could really use a guest here, we could really imagine his voice there. Then we were at a festival this summer and they played there as well, and that’s I think when the deal was struck. We gave him a choice. We had three songs where he could imagine it. We always try to give our guests an amount of freedom, so they can really make it their own.

The video for “Burning Bridges” has such cool visuals and beautiful scenery. Where was that shot, and how did the concept and the characters come about?

It was filmed in Snowdonia, which is a gorgeous part of Wales. We filmed it with the company Video Inc., which is a company that we’ve actually worked with for four different videos in one year. In 2019, we did four videos with them, including “Ghost House Heart.” The idea behind “Burning Bridges” for me lyrically was really that the protagonist of the song keeps leaving his surroundings in order to get away from the negative energy there—the negative energies are following him. The real question is, are those negative energies actually coming from your surroundings or are you the one bringing them? And then leaving and burning your bridges behind you will solve absolutely nothing. That was the idea that we wanted to work with for the video as well. What I really like about Video Inc. and how they work is we’ve had in the past where we pitched a song to other video companies and they came up with all these ideas that didn’t fit the song at all. And then we thought, “Oh, we have to give him some more input.” So, any images or ideas that we have with the themes, we send them over, but sometimes then people just say, “Okay, we’ll do that.” And what I really like about Video Inc. is they take the idea and then they go over it. They’re the video makers, that’s their expertise, and they give their own twist to it. “Burning Bridges” is definitely one of the most dramatic ones of the four videos, and I’m really happy with how it turned out.

You’re the frontwoman and the main focal point of the band, but the album closer “Combustion” is a cool instrumental that gives the rest of the band a chance to shine. Was this a song specifically created as an instrumental or music that you had trouble finding words for it?

It wasn’t meant to be a song with lyrics ever. Actually, this song was written by Timo and I’m sure that Joey also had a say in it because his drumming parts are very prominent. They actually started performing this song as a showpiece Joey had at his graduation at music school, and they performed it there. We really loved that song and that performance. Another thing is when we write songs for Delain, we really like pop structured songs. None of us in the band are ego trippers, none of us try to show off what we can do. We just do what the song needs, but on this track, they really get to shine. And I think that it’s really cool to give them that moment to shine because we have some really fantastic musicians in the band and they play very functional parts in the regular songs. So, I think that this is a great opportunity for them to show what they’ve got. Also, this is an egocentric reasoning, but for me, a lot of the songs have become much harder to sing. I really appreciate the two minutes of taking a breath during the shows! I think that on the album Apocalypse & Chill, that song for me, represents the explosion, the combustion, the apocalypse itself, if you will. I think it’s got a very symbolic function on this record.

What’s the music scene like in the Netherlands? You’re a very well known international touring band, but what was your humble beginning like?

Delain is a little bit of an odd example in that case because Martijn had rolled out of Within Temptation, who were at their breakthrough, and he had so many well known guests on this album that he wrote and that took a long time. There was a lot of work that went into that, and he had a whole big business plan that he used to get to the labels as well. But we got into that label straightaway for the first record because of all that hard work that Martijn had already put into it and the planning he did and the whole set up of the project. But, if I look at the scene that I was in before I got involved with that, the Dutch metal scene is a very small scene. Everyone knows each other, everyone is in everybody’s bands. I was I think in four bands at that moment. I was in a band, a guitarist in that band was doing a project, and I was in that project and then Martijn did arrangements for that project. And that’s where he heard me. So, he asked me for his project. I know that’s a very confusing sentence, but that may be a good representation of the Dutch music scene. It’s very interesting because a lot of metal comes from the Netherlands and actually a lot of symphonic metal comes from the Netherlands. But you would never tell if you looked at the Dutch mainstream music media. I don’t know, maybe it’s because it’s not exotic enough for us, or maybe it’s because it’s too exotic. The Dutch popular music is basically just dance and hip-hop. And I have nothing against dance and hip-hop, but sometimes it’s weird to me. I do these Dutch guest things and there will be people from multiple genres, and I will always be the one with the most followers on Instagram and Facebook. And they will be like, “But we don’t know you!” And that’s very typical for Holland, I think. Music that is very well known internationally is not really well known in the Netherlands itself. On the other hand, it also has its benefits because I bet that even if Delain would have a massive hit in the genre that I could still go grocery shopping without people recognizing me!

Delain has been around for 18 years and you have this new album out and upcoming gigs for the next few years. What are you looking forward to the most in the near future?

We have already reached so many things that we wanted to reach with Delain. It’s been really amazing. It’s been an absolute roller coaster. Martijn and I do most of the work behind the scenes, and we’re a really tight team and we both have started talking about how we might want to start doing some things outside of Delain every now and then. I think our biggest goal for now is to really find a balance and do anything in order to keep making beautiful music together. Because if I look at what we’ve done in the past, if I look at the album that we made now, I’m just really, really proud. It is really a product of our team. The sum is more than its parts, so to speak. I just really hope that we can keep doing that and make a lot more beautiful music and hope that people keep enjoying it. Delain has been around for 18 years and you have this new album out and upcoming gigs for the next few years. What are you looking forward to the most in the near future? We have already reached so many things that we wanted to reach with Delain. It’s been really amazing. It’s been an absolute roller coaster. Martijn and I do most of the work behind the scenes, and we’re a really tight team and we both have started talking about how we might want to start doing some things outside of Delain every now and then. I think our biggest goal for now is to really find a balance and do anything in order to keep making beautiful music together. Because if I look at what we’ve done in the past, if I look at the album that we made now, I’m just really, really proud. It is really a product of our team. The sum is more than its parts, so to speak. I just really hope that we can keep doing that and make a lot more beautiful music and hope that people keep enjoying it.

#Charlotte Wessels #Delain #2020 interviews

12 notes · View notes

johannesviii · 5 years ago

Text

Top 10 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 2018

I’m kinda sad this series of posts is coming to a close, especially with two mediocre years for the kind of hit songs I enjoy.

I was very depressed in 2018 so I thought maybe it was the reason why I didn’t like most songs I heard, so I revisited the entire catalogue of 2018 hit songs from the year-end lists and... no, it wasn’t just me.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

As I mentioned before I was super depressed in 2018, which wasn’t helped by the death of two family members including one I was super close to, and by catching a mysterious infection on a finger that doctors didn’t seem to be able to cure and which made my left hand hurt all year long, until I had to have an operation in early 2019 to fix the issue (plot twist, it wasn’t an infection, which is why nothing was working). On the plus side, my s.o and I decided to get married but it only happened the next year.

Ok so, hit songs weren’t that good (stay tuned for that), but albums? Some great stuff dropped in 2018. Unfortunately, Eminem’s Kamikaze wasn’t among those great albums and at that point he was basically dead to me. BUT! A Perfect Circle came back, which was completely unexpected! Nine Inch Nails released Bad Witch which contained the excellent and super hypnotic Over And Out! Mike Shinoda released Post Traumatic and every single Linkin Park fan was like “oh god what a mood”! Moby, which I hadn’t liked for years at that point after loving his stuff so much when I was 15 or so, released Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt and it was unexpectedly good! And The 1975 released A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships, which, in my opinion, isn’t quite as great as their second album (I refuse to write its super long title again), but still super good. Just like the previous one, a lot of songs had crossover potential and I’m very sad it didn’t happen. Stay tuned for the unelligible songs.

But you know what? The album of the year, at least to me, was always going to be something much darker. Fortunately, the end of the year was when VNV Nation decided to drop its best album of the entire decade, Noire. In these trying times, an album about the fight between light and darkness was exactly what I needed to hear. I was super emotional when I first listened to it. Armour might just be the best song on the album. Collide explodes into a million colors after a super slow start. Wonders is a big mood. Lights Go Out is a super angry song which basically says ‘we’re dancing while the apocalypse is happening because they won’t let us do anything else’, and we need more stuff like this. When is the Future was a super solid first single and yeah, exactly, where is the future we were promised as kids? Only Satellites became one of my fight songs in record time. And All Of Our Sins is terrifying and super good. Just an amazing album all around. I certainly hope they make more in the future, but if they don’t, that would be a super high note to finish on.

As for unelligible stuff, there’s Chun Li (Nicki Minaj) which I found super weird at first, but it grew on me a lot as the year went on. I’m very surprised it’s not on the US year-end list, by the way. And I wish more stuff from Indochine had charted... again, I know. Apart from that, it’s all The 1975. Love it if we made it should have been a hit but wasn’t a safe bet for a leading single so it kind of makes sense. TOOTIMETOOTIMETOOTIME despite its stupid title was a much more convincing hit, and yet, it wasn’t one, and that pisses me off more. And It’s Not Living (If It’s Not With You) is one of their best songs ever. Catch me on the right day and I’ll call it better than The Sound, even. This should have been a hit. I’m so angry it didn’t happen.

But hey! Their new album is getting released in just a couple of days! Maybe 2020 is finally going to be their year? Wait and see.

Holy shit there hasn’t been a shorter list of honorable mentions since my 2008 list.

Remind Me To Forget (Kygo) - Good but (ironically) a bit too forgettable to be on the list.

Later Bitches (The Prince Karma) - So bad it’s good at its finest right there. Not enough to put it higher though.

High Hopes (Panic! At The Disco) - Tiptoes the line between good and super annoying too much to be higher. Not even the best song on the album (that would be Say Amen (Saturday Night)). Not sure why this was more popular.

Sicko Mode (Travis Scott) - God I want to love this song so bad. I tried so hard and it never completely clicked for me.

Next To Me (Imagine Dragons) - Believe it or not, this was the last cut from the list. I sincerely hope that Imagine Dragons will make good music again in the future and that their new songs will stop sounding like a person dragging themselves accross the wet sand of some post-apocalyptic beach covered in ashes.

So how do I know this was a bad year for hit songs? Well I not only struggled to find ten songs for this list but also struggled to find a suitable #1. Then I just went “I’m gonna put the only 2018 song I ever put on my mp3 player at #1 by default.” Does it make 2018 as bad as 1990? I’m not so sure. The top 3 I made for 1990 contained two songs I absolutely adored, including one of my favorite songs of all time. On the other hand, it was a bit easier to find ten songs I liked (not loved) in 2018. So... I don’t know.

I should also mention that Bohemian Rhapsody made the French year-end list again, at #83, and that is hilarious, but putting it on the list feels like cheating. Consider it to be an alternative #1!

10 - Finesse (Bruno Mars)

US: #14 / FR: Not on the list

I know. Everybody likes this song. I’m no exception, and I love its aesthetic, but I also like it wayyyyyy less than 24k Magic.

9 - New Rules (Dua Lipa)

US: #16 / FR: Not on the list

Basically, same thing here. I like it but I’m using it mostly as filler for this list. The lyrics are pretty great, though.

8 - This is America (Childish Gambino)

US: #51 / FR: Not on the list

This would be much better if the radio version had kept the gunshot sounds from the music video, but on the other hand it would have been pretty terrifying to hear gunshots on the radio while driving, so eh... this was probably the right decision to make. Apart from that, this song and this video have already been analysed by countless people on the internet and I don’t see what I could contribute after all this time.

7 - Sweet but Psycho (Ava Max)

US: Not on the list / FR: #42

This sounds like a song from the bygone era of Bad Romance and to be honest, it would have been annoying several years ago but in 2018 that was genuinely a refreshing blast from the past.

6 - Speed (Zazie)

US: Not on the list / FR: #74

To be honest, I never expected Zazie to show up on one of my lists again, but 2018′s general quality forced me to do it. This is a song that starts super slow and keeps getting faster, and it’s mostly about overcoming depression. Everything I needed that year.

5 - Let You Down (NF)

US: #29 / FR: Not on the list

I don’t think I know a single other person or critic who likes this song, and yet it charted super high. I don’t love it, and the chorus is grating, but there’s some damn powerful lyrics in there, and a lot of it is extremely relatable.

What can I say, in this day and age, if you give me a super-watered-down version of early 2000s Eminem, I’ll take it.

4 - Marry Me (Thomas Rhett)

US: #76 / FR: Not on the list

Yeah, it’s a slow emotional song and I tend to dislike those, but I heard this song only maybe four times in total and it destroyed me every single time.

No, I don’t have anything else to say about it.

3 - Un Été Français (Indochine)

US: Not on the list / FR: #67

I do not like this song’s chorus, it’s a mess and a half. There’s a lot of much better songs on the 13 album. 2033 should have been a single. But this is the one which charted instead. And you know what? I’ll take “super messy and clunkily written song about how the far right is gonna destroy this country if we let it exist any longer, sung over a nice tune” over everything I mentioned previously on this list.

In a better year, this wouldn’t have climbed higher than the honorable mentions. But yeah, I’m not gonna repeat my entire 2017 lecture about Indochine. It takes a lot for me to dislike one of their songs. Even at their weakest, their hearts are in the right place.

2 - Flames (David Guetta & Sia)

US: Not on the list / FR: #13

We’ve finally reached the songs I genuinely love and uh, yeah, there’s only two of them. This is sad. But this song is a lot of fun! And the music video is absolutely ridiculous in all the best ways.

It was also a super useful song to me. You’re being super sad and unenergetic, you’re climbing into your car to buy some food, you’re turning the radio on and suddenly you’re hearing “Go, go, go, figure it out / Figure it out, you can do this / So my love, keep on running / You gotta get through today / There my love, keep on running / Gotta keep those tears at bay / Oh my love, don't stop burning / Gotta send them up in flames” over a super good beat and yeah, definitely. You can do this.

1 - La Même (Maître Gims & Vianney)

US: Not on the list / FR: #1 (!! holy shit quality wins for once)

This might just be the weakest #1 I’ve ever put at the top of one of my lists, since the only criteria that put this one there was “this is actually on my mp3 player and none of the other songs are”. Also, somehow, I only discovered it last year even though it was the biggest song of 2018 in my country, apparently...

Even so, that’s a fantastic song with great lyrics and a wonderfully catchy tune and that would have been enough to put it at #1 on its own, I think. But look at those lyrics! (here’s a rather good translation) It’s about how society judges people by their looks in public. The chorus literally goes “If what I am bothers you, well, tough”. That’s even the title. And I like the music video a lot, with this white box in which people are put and as soon as they aren’t in it anymore you notice how different they act or look, like the buff guy who turns out to have prosthetic legs, or the grandma who turns out to be covered in tatoos. Simple but cool idea.

It may be a weak #1, but it’s an extremely useful song, because having “si je vous gêne, bah c’est la même” (”if I bother you, well tough”) turning in your head like a playground taunt, it really does wonders for your confidence.

And to think some French friends thought making these lists would make me hate Maître Gims’ music once I discovered it.

Next up: the last list?! It’s been a wild ride.

#Johannes’ bad not good pretty terrible music lists #music #long post #eye contact tw #fire tw

14 notes · View notes

milkchu · 6 years ago

Text

celebrity crush ; ben hardy x reader

“hyyy could you write some fluffy ben x reader where she is also an actress (like reaaally famous) on bo rhap and they are all doing an instagram live on her profile and ben is sitting next to her and looking at her all 😍😏😩💦 and everyone is commenting about him and they ship them and later that day they all tag them in screen shots of him looking at her like that and then he decides to confess it lol thank youuuu LOVE YOUR BLOG BTW” - Anon

Warnings: Mentions of drinking, some swearing

A/N: thank you so much for sending this in, anon! hope you don’t mind that i made slight changes. happy reading! 💓

You and the rest of the BoRhap cast were currently in the living room, just relaxing and hanging out. Filming just wrapped up, and you were happy and somewhat sad at the same time. Happy that filming was finally finished, sad because you only had limited time to hang out with Ben your friends.

Being a long-time fan of Queen, you were over the moon when your manager told you that you were casted in the movie. Even though it wasn’t a major role, you wouldn’t miss a chance to be part of a movie about your favorite band of all time.

So, you were cast as the Miami’s assistant, who has worked with Queen for as long as he did. Brian and Roger even told you that they considered her as a fifth member, because she would make amazing suggestions whenever they recorded songs, and literally served as the support system of the band through their shittiest times, so they really thought of her as family.

Brian even told you that Roger had a really tiny crush on her back then, like they would flirt a little sometimes, so you weren’t surprised when she visited the set and reunited with the two of them, Roger was almost stumbling with his words.

He was even more shocked, along with Brian, when they finally saw you in costume, seeing as you were literally the spitting image of her.

Okay, back to the present.

You were currently on the couch, sitting beside Ben, who you’ve grown to have feelings for throughout filming. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve always liked Ben, especially his performance in X-Men: Apocalypse as Angel, who you thought he was extremely hot.

Being a fellow Marvel actor, you almost had the chance to meet him. But, you were part of the MCU cast, a different cast, so it didn’t really happen to your dismay. So, when you found out you were both cast in BoRhap, you couldn’t wait for Infinity War to finish filming so you could finally meet your long time celebrity crush Ben.

Quietly sipping on your drink, trying to ignore the close contact you had with the blond, you looked over to Joe, who was picking out a song for karaoke until he finally chose Purple Rain by Prince.

“Look, it’s your song,” You joked as you gently nudged Ben, gesturing towards Joe, who, you were positive, was already a little bit tipsy. Ben let out a soft laugh, “Can’t wait for this.”

Laughters erupted in the living room when Joe finally reached the chorus. Yup, he was more than just tipsy. You immediately pulled your phone out and went live on Instagram. “Hey, guys,” You greeted, trying hard not to laugh.

(y/n)ismyqueen: “OMGGG THE QUEEN IS LIVE”

ilove(y/n): “WASSUPPP ❤️”

idontwannagomrstark: “IS TOM THERE”

benmakesmehardy: “is that ben?????????”

You pointed the camera towards Joe, who was already kneeling on the floor, singing his heart out. You continued to record Joe who was channeling his inner Prince until he finally ended, dropping the mic on the floor.

Everyone in the room cheered, until Joe saw you recording, immediately running to you, “I swear to god, (Y/N), if you post that,” You chuckled, showing him in your live, “It’s on live, Joe.”

joemozzarella: “OHMYGDOG I WISH JOE SANG TO ME LIKE THAT”

(y/n)ismyqueen: “HIIII JOEEE ❤️”

benmakesmehardy: “ohmygod i love this cast”

ilove(y/n): “I STAN !!!!!!!!!!”

Joe shrugged, “Nevermind, everyone already knows I’m fabulous,” You chuckled, while Ben playfully rolled his eyes at your tipsy friend. “By the way, here’s Rog- I mean, Ben,” You joked as you moved the camera towards the blond, him shooting the camera a wave and a soft smile, which made your heart flutter.

You continued the live, Ben still by your side, answering some questions from your fans.

(y/n)ismyqueen: “PLS TELL US U DIDNT REALLY DIE IN INFINITY WAR OMGGMOMOG”

ilove(y/n): “I WILL LITERALLY SNAP THANOS’ NECK IF YOU REALLY DID”

idontwannagomrstark: “LEAK THE TRAILER”

You laughed at the comments, “Oh my god, guys,” before placing a finger on your lips, “Can’t say anything, Marvel might fire me,” Ben chuckled along with you before saying, “No, they won’t, you’re too amazing to get fired.”

Your cheeks blushed deep red at his comment, so you just laughed it off as a joke, but, your followers thought otherwise.

(y/n)ismyqueen: “OH MYGOD BEN ❤️❤️❤️”

benmakesmehardy: “WHEN WILL THESE TWO GET TOGETHER THE CLOCK IS TICKING SWEETIES”

hardyx(l/n): “I LOVE MY PARENTS”

ilove(y/n): “I want someone to look at me the way Ben looks at (Y/N) 😍😍😍”

Too busy looking at the comments, you didn’t realize that the blond beside was already staring at you, enamored, with an affectionate gaze.

hardyx(l/n): “GUYS GUYS LOOK AT BEN AWWWWWW 😍❤️”

benmakesmehardy: “IDK IF SHOULD I BE IN LOVE WITH (Y/N) OR WITH BEN”

(y/n)ismyqueen: “IM LITERALLY BEN”

joe_mazzello: “can you two just get together already i can feel the tension in the room”

mrgwilymlee: “I second that”

ramimalek: “Third”

lucyboynton1: “Fourth”

therealleech: “Fifth”

brianmayforreal: “Sixth ! Bri”

rogertaylorofficial: “Seventh”

If it was possible, your cheeks blushed even more, seeing all the comments about you and Ben. You looked over to your side, seeing the blond continuing to stare at you with his warm eyes that made your heart feel like it ran a marathon.

You looked away quickly, a blush still evident on your face, “Alright, lovelies, that’s all the time I got today, but I promise to go live again sometime soon!” You waved at the camera, before ending the live and exiting Instagram.

Sighing, you closed your phone and immediately stood up, walking fast towards the door that lead to the balcony, looking out to the view of the city lights. You leaned against the railing, trying to calm down your rapid beating heart.

Does Ben actually like me? You asked yourself, looking out to the starlit sky. Yeah, he was looking at you like that, but, was it real? Or was it just for the fans?

You let out a sigh, too deep in your thoughts to notice a certain blond approaching. Feeling someone beside you, you immediately knew it was Ben. You honestly didn’t know what to say to him until he finally spoke up, “I mean it, you know.”

You looked up at him in confusion, immediately drowning in his green orbs. “You really are the most amazing person I know,” He breathed, cupping your cheek with his hand.

Staring into each other’s eyes for a bit longer, you began to lean in towards Ben, him doing the same. Slowly closing your eyes, feeling a wave of electricity went through your entire body when you felt his soft lips press against yours.

As both your lips moved against each other softly, he cupped both your cheeks in his hands while your hands were pressed against his firm chest, feeling his own rapid heartbeat under your fingers.

Both of your were so lost in each other’s lips that you didn’t notice the rest of the cast already watching you from the inside until a camera shutter was heard.

You and Ben quickly, but gently pulled away from each other’s lips to see the whole cast standing by the door, Lucy holding up her phone. “It’s about time!” Joe cheered.

The entire cast bursted into laughter, but congratulated you both for finally getting together after crushing on each other for God knows how long. Ben held your hand softly, before smiling fondly at you and entering the living room again, but as a couple this time.

Later on, you heard a ‘ding’ come from your phone, signaling a notification.

“benhardy1 tagged you in a post.”

Opening Instagram again, you blushed as you saw the picture that Lucy took of both you and Ben in the middle of your kiss earlier captioned,

“Finally. ❤️”

#i dont even know anymore #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy fluff #borhap #borhap fanfic #borhap imagine #borhap fluff #borhap cast #bohrhap #bohemian rhapsody #hardy-s

836 notes · View notes

drsilverfish · 6 years ago

Text

The Riddle of the Sphinx: 14x12 Prophet and Loss

First, thanks to @verobatto-angelxhunter @gneisscastiel @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @mrsaquaman187 for inviting me to guest this week, as part of their ongoing SPN #Metafest project @metafest

along with several other guests: @bluephoenixrises @poorreputation @agusvedder @amwritingmeta @savannadarkbaby @prairiedust and

@norahastuff

I’m going to guest meta about the Riddle of the Sphinx.

Here is creepy Tony Alvarez drowning his first victim.

Despite an opening dose of Bucklemming torture-porn (ugh - although tbf there was a narrative point, as the drowned girl was a mirror for Dean, just like the slain first-born son and the dude who almost got barbecued were - more on that later...)... So, yeah, despite that, I was thrilled to see this in the visual narrative architecture - the Sphinx Machine Shop, where Tony does his mangled prophecy induced killing.

The Sphinx, as you know, is a fearsome part-woman, part winged-lion beastie, in Greek mythology, who was famous for guarding the entrance to Thebes and asking travellers to solve the answer to a riddle in order to gain safe passage to the city. If they failed, she devoured them.

She is tied in mythology not just to puzzles and their solutions, but to fate...

Here is the Sphynx of Naxos, from the Temple of Apollo at Delphi (560 BCE)

Image from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sphinx_of_Naxos

The Temple of Delphi was the site of the Oracle of Delphi, who was the High Priestess Pythia (a transferrable role) famous for her prophesies, which came to her in trance-states, supposedly from the God Apollo.

You see the link to SPN’s own Prophet role here....

The Sphinx also, famously, appears in Sophocles’ play Oedipus Rex, which became the basis for Freud’s also famous (and relevant a bit later) “Oedipus complex”. Sophocles didn’t invent the myth, but his telling is its most famous rendition.

Despite his other misfortunes, Oedipus doesn’t get devoured by the Sphinx, because he solves her riddle, a popular rendition of which is:

“What goes on four legs, on two legs, on three, and the more legs it goes on, the weaker it be?”

The answer, is - a human (baby, adult, old person with a stick).

Oedipus’ story is a classic story about fate, just like Appointment in Samara (re-worked in an SPN episode, 6x11, but originally an old Mesopotamian tale) which @mittensmorgul and I were talking about just recently, in relation to themes of fate vs free will in SPN (specifically in relation to the role played by Death - see here for the discussion:

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182454009599/mittensmorgul-drsilverfish-mittensmorgul )

Oedipus’ story is a (f-d up) family drama - rather relevant to our very own Family Winchester [no, NOT because this is all about either of the boys wanting to sleep with Mary Winchester - thanks Dr. Freud - although, come to think of it, Dean did say she was hot in 4x03 In The Beginning :-)]

14x13 Lebanon promo shot

When baby Oedipus is born, his father King Laius receives a prophecy that his son will grow up to kill him, and so, he sends a shepherd to expose the baby on the mountainside to die, before that can happen. The shepherd however, not being an asshole, saves the baby, and raises him secretly as his own.

Oedipus grows up, and he eventually learns from the Oracle at Delphi herself (see above) that he is fated to kill his father and marry his mother. Believing the shepherd and his wife are his true mother and father, whom he loves, he leaves his home in the mountains for the city of Thebes, determined to defy the prophecy.

On the way, he meets a quarrelsome old man on the road, they fight, and Oedipus kills him:

When he gets to Thebes, he finds the King has been slain, by persons unknown, and the town is at the mercy of the Sphinx. Oedipus, by guessing the Sphinx’s riddle, obtains safety for the town and is, in gratitude, appointed King himself and given the widowed Queen, Jocasta’s, hand in marriage.

All is well for a bit, until a plague descends on Thebes, and Oedipus is told that to save the city, he must avenge King Laius’ death. So, he goes sleuthing, with the extremely relucant help of his seer Tiresius, and to his horror, discovers that he is the one who killed the King (that old dude on the road to Thebes all those years ago), that he is the King’s true son, and has, therefore, killed his father and, in marrying Queen Jocasta, married his mother and committed incest, fulfilling the prophecy he set out to escape from. He promptly blinds himself in horror. Poor ancient Greek dude.

The Chorus laments the power of fate

O heavy hand of fate! Who now more desolate, Whose tale more sad than thine, whose lot more dire? O Oedipus, discrowned head, Thy cradle was thy marriage bed;

http://www.gutenberg.org/files/31/31-h/31-h.htm - Project Gutenberg translation of Oedipus Rex.

A reference to the story of Oedipus and the Sphinx is extremely pregnant right now in the SPN narrative, for two reasons:

1) Fate vs Free Will

2) The Ghost of John Winchester

1) Fate vs Free Will

Dean thinks his interpretation of the book Billie handed him in 14x10 Nihilism - apparently the only death of his in which AU!Michael doesn’t take over his meat-suit and burn the world - means he has to sink himself to the bottom of the ocean, in the Ma’lak (angel) box and that’s “fate”.

Like Oedipus, there is no escape.

However, 14x12 tells us two things. Firstly, by analogy - the prophecy is wrong. Alvarez thinks he is carrying out the prophetic Word of God TM by recreating a twisted version of the Plagues of Egypt sent by God in Exodus:

1) The slaughter of a first-born son

2) Drowning in the Red Sea

3) Fire out of Heaven

(all of which are mirrors for what Dean thinks is his “fate” right now: death of a first born son; being drowned forever at the bottom of the ocean in the Ma’lak box; being consumed by the AU Archangel Michael’s Heavenly grace/fire).

But it’s a garbled message, received as a result of Prophet Donatello’s comatose scramblings.

Secondly, screw prophecy - against the odds, Dr. Sexy of the Lord (yeah - you know Dean thought it) is able to revive Donatello, thus preventing further scramblings (aka wrong prophesies).

CASTIEL: “Dean - if there is a spark, a hope, then I have to try.... you taught me that!”

I loved that line, with its resonance all the way back, like a skein of blue grace, to the Apocalypse Mark One, when Dean convinced Castiel, in Zacharia’s (also due to return in 14x13 Lebanon) “green room” in 4x22 Lucifer Rising, to disobey Heaven for the sake of humanity (Yes, Dean, an angel did fall for you...).

In other words, just as the Winchesters beat their “fate” to be “angel condoms” for Michael and Lucifer last time around, by “tearing up the script” and “making it up as they go” (4x22 Lucifer Rising) thanks to the help of rebel angel Castiel, so they can do so again.

2) The Ghost of John Winchester

In the SPN world’s worst kept spoiler, we know John will return next week in 14x13 Lebanon. We’ve been meta’ing about the ghost of John Winchester haunting the SPN narrative for... forever.

Here is some meta of mine on the subject from S12:

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/158388550099/john-winchesters-ghost-and-the-haunting-of-s12

John is explicitly recalled, during the brothers’ (beautifully rendered) car conversation in 14x12:

DEAN: “You ever think about when we were kids?”

SAM: “Maybe, yeah, sure, sometimes, why?”

DEAN: “I know I wasn’t always the greatest brother to you.”

SAM: “Dean, you were the one who was always there for me. The only one. I mean, you practically raised me.”

DEAN: “I know things got dicey, you know with Dad, the way he was... and I just.... I didn’t always look out for you the way that I should of. I mean, I had my own stuff, y’know, and in order to keep the peace, it probably looked like I took his side quite a bit. Sometimes, when I was away, you know it wasn’t cos I just ran out, right? Dad would, he would send me away, when I really pissed him off. I think you knew that.”

SAM: “Man I left that behind a long time ago, I had to.”

AU!Michael, I’ve been arguing since the start of the season, is a mirror for Dean’s self-repression and for John Winchester. See:

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/179463975289/shirtlesssammy-14x03the-scar-meta-writers

John was one of the major causes of Dean’s self-repression, as illustrated in the convo above, where it’s clear Dean had to grow up too fast to become a substitute-parent to Sam, where he was often obedient to their father to “keep the peace”, and where he was also often, unreasonably, punished by his father in the process (such as, as we already know, when he was sent to Sonny’s after stealing food for Sam in 9x07 Bad Boys).

According to psychoanalysis, we always internalise psychological constructs of our parents - Freud calls them imagos. So the Riddle of the Sphinx, for Dean, is how to kill (or rather, lay to rest) the ghost of his father (whom AU! Michael is a mirror for) and with it, the self-repression which has wounded him so much, psychically, since childhood, without letting it kill him too.

Nick, of course (general shudder) also serves as a John Winchester mirror in the episode - his obsessive revenge quest for the slaughter of his wife (aka mirror Mary Winchester) by Abraxas, led to something she never wanted - damage to innocents along the way (aka mirror innocents, Sam and Dean).

To Conclude

The answer to the Sphinx’s riddle, the one that helped Oedipus avoid being devoured by her was.... humanity.

Light Sphinx, 2015-2016, Mixed media (inc. foam, hand stitched fabrics, LEDs, beads, synthetic hair), 74 x 32 x 54 cm by Tarryn Gill

https://tarryngill.com/Light-Sphinx-Shadow-Sphinx-2015-16

Dean IS the symbolic representation of humanity (which is why Amara was so fascinated by him, and let’s not forget Metatron’s words about Castiel in 9x22 Stairway to Heaven - “He’s in love with.... humanity”).

Our first-born Winchester son just has to believe what this episode showed him - prophecy can be wrong.

His “fate” - to die, to drown forever, to be consumed by holy grace/fire, to remain trapped by the ghost of his father, by his own self-repression, by AU!Michael, by the Ma’lak box (aka, in subtext, the closet) is NOT the “Word of God”.

And killing one’s father doesn’t (as it did for Oedipus) have to mean damnation, if, the way one does it, is symbolically, by laying his ghost to rest in one’s heart and mind (hello upcoming SPN 300 14x13 Lebanon).

Freud believed the resolution of the Oedipus complex (for boys) was identification with the father (and no, we don’t have to concur with Dr. Freud). Dean has actually been on an oppositve journey, to get out from under his father’s shadow.

The Jungian solution, which the S14 narrative is offering to the metaphorical Riddle of the Sphinx, is, to turn around and embrace the Shadow-self (the parts of oneself one has repressed) and in so doing, to evolve - to become more fully human.

So, a final salute to Jerry Wanek and team, and the ever wonderful SPN set dressing narrative, for The Sphinx Machine shop!

NB:

You can read my Jungian Meta series here, if you’re interested:

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/180906003584/the-shadow-14x08

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/181122764984/14x09-the-spear-jungian-decoder-ring-edition

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182299438269/jung-and-deans-journey-towards-self-integration

And if, you want to read more of my SPN meta in general, go visit my blog and look under the “Meta” sidebar tag: http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/tagged/Meta

Plus, if you want to read lots of other people’s fabulous SPN meta, go check out the “SPN Meta” sidebar tag: http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/tagged/SPN%20Meta

Thanks for having me @metafest !

DrSphinx out.

#Supernatural #SPN meta #Metafest #14x12 #Prophet and Loss #Winchester Family Dynamics #Dean vs repression #Fate vs Free Will #Set dressing narrative #Jerry Wanek #SPN spoilers #Meta

143 notes · View notes

tabletopinfinities · 6 years ago

Text

Mage: the Ascension

Reality is a lie. The truth is magic. Open your eyes and Awaken.

What’s the premise?

It’s our modern world, but magic is real. Technology is just a different form of magic. Other forms of magic were driven underground and are harder to conjure up, because consensus belief shapes reality, and people these days find it easier to believe in, say, cars and guns than they do fireballs or flying carpets. Oh, and also there’s a war on for control over reality itself.

You see, a long time ago (circa the 13th century to be precise), a group of mages got tired of wizards being able to throw fireballs willy-nilly, summon up demons, and generally make life a pain for everyone. They wanted to bring order to the world and tame and control magic for the good of all. Of course, they would be the ones in charge of this new world order. These guys would become the Technocracy, the all-seeing, all-powerful architects of consensus reality. Using advanced hypertechnology beyond mundane comprehension, they’re trying to wipe out magic for good and make the world safe for Sleepers - the mundane masses that have no idea that magic even exists.

Fighting on the side of magical freedom is the Council of Nine Mystic Traditions. Formed in response to the Technocracy, each Tradition represents a particular form of magical practice. In brief, they are: wizards, druids, priests, shamans, martial artists, hippies, assassins, mad scientists, and hackers. They don’t always get along with each other, but they band together to fight the Technocracy and try and bring “real” magic back into the world. So far, they’re still losing, but the fight is far from over.

In between these guys are a wide range of other independent magical societies and solo mages, everything from goths (well, it is a White Wolf game) to ancient African sorcerer-kings. There’s also the Nephandi, who are evil mages who serve demons and other beings beyond our world. They just want to drag the world down into Hell (and they might be the ones truly winning, in the end). There’s the Marauders, who are mages who’ve lost their grip on reality so bad that they actually warp reality around themselves. And there are whole other realms of supernatural weirdness to explore, including crossing over with the other World of Darkness games (Vampire: the Masquerade, Werewolf: the Apocalypse, Wraith: the Oblivion, etc).

You’d like it if you’re into: Harry Potter, The Matrix, The Magicians, The Invisibles, Mr. Robot

Why do you recommend it?

Lots of games have you playing as magic-users and casting spells. This one lets you do it however you want to. The magic system is almost totally freeform, meaning that rather than being locked to a list of spells you figure out what you want your spell to do and how you want that effect to appear. This means you can make whatever kind of character you want, from the classic wizard archetype to cyberpunk technomancers to priestesses of forgotten goddesses whose sacred gun shoots bullets that sprout into roses. The only limit is your imagination (and your dice rolls).

The setting reflects that limitlessness. It’s a clash between high tech and high magic that can fit all your wild ideas inside it. If you want to have a journey through the realms of faerie one session and then invade an orbital cyborg factory the next, you can do that all with the same characters. I love settings that let you pit genres against each other like that, and Mage is among the most flexible of them.

Finally - Mage is a game about personal discovery that encourages you to make your own personal discoveries. It asks you to explore what it really means to control reality - and maybe see if you can apply that to your own reality. Especially with the 20th Anniversary Edition, which is one of the most welcoming, hopeful RPG sourcebooks I’ve ever read.

What are the rules like?

The Storyteller System that powers the World of Darkness games is pretty straightforward - roll a bunch of d10s, see how many dice beat the difficulty number, subtract the number of 1s you rolled from that, and the result is the number of successes you got, which tells you how well you did at what you were trying to do. Roll too many 1s and you get a critical failure. It lets you describe a more evocative set of outcomes than systems like D&D where you simply succeed or fail.

Combat is fairly realistic, with guns and all being about as lethal as you’d expect - although of course there are various magical weapons and defenses to complicate things.

The bulk of the system rules is devoted, of course, to magic. Here’s where the game both shines and gets bogged down. You get to come up with spells for your character with effects based on how skilled they are in the various spheres of magic, with flavor filtered through their particular magical style. It’s a twist that really lets you feel like you’re working with reality-changing magic. Want to cast a basic fireball? Sure. Want to represent that as an Atlantean plasma gun or God smiting your enemies with a pillar of flame? Go for it. Want to use magic to grow a snail to giant size and then send it an hour into the past to destroy your enemies before they caught up with you? That is definitely something you can try and do in this game, although that one might require a lot of successes.

The catch is that if you don’t do what consensus reality expects, e.g., growing a snail to giant size in front of a street full of onlookers, the universe is likely to smack you down with the force of Paradox. That’s what keeps reality cohesive and stops mages from battling it out in the streets. Push the universe too far and it starts pushing back, in the form of bad luck, spontaneous human combustion, or, in extreme cases, popping you out of reality altogether for a little bit (or maybe forever). Paradox might even manifest as a physical spirit to haunt you. This applies to Technocrats as much as it does to Tradition mages, because the masses aren’t ready to accept giant robots or cyber-tooth tigers just yet. In fact, there might be pockets of reality where magic works and technology doesn’t… go to an Amish community and heal them with laying on hands versus a fancy tricorder and see which one attracts more Paradox.

The tradeoff for such flexibility is that it becomes a bit time-consuming to figure out what your character’s capable of, how well they’ll have to roll to pull it off, and what it looks like within the rules. Most complicated spells require proficiency in a few different spheres, e.g., Correspondence to do stuff at long range, Prime to create something out of nothing, or Time to bind a spell to a certain duration. Once you’ve got a firmer grasp on the systems and a few standardized “rote” spells in your pocket you start to get the hang of it though.

What’s my character like?

Starting as a neophyte mage, you’ll be capable of basic spells in a couple of Spheres, but you won’t be able to change reality in major ways. You get to choose whether you’re better at Physical, Social, or Mental attributes, and put points into different skills. You’ll get some Backgrounds, which represent the resources your character has - allies, a familiar, access to arcane libraries, magic artifacts, etc. You’ll also decide what your character’s exterior Demeanor and inner Nature are, as well as the Essence of their enlightened soul. These are, sort of, your character’s alignment, and roleplaying in accordance with them will let you regain Willpower, which you can use to reroll dice (among other things). Finally, you’ll decide what the trappings of your character’s magic are and what instruments and rituals they use as foci for their different Spheres.

Those spheres of magic, in case you were wondering, are Mind, Prime (manipulating Quintessence, the raw force of magic), Time, Spirit, Entropy (which covers both death and probability), Forces (fire, wind, energy, etc.), Matter, Life, and Correspondence (travel, distance, and connection).

Most characters also belong to some particular faction, which shapes what Spheres they’re skilled in. Each of the Traditions corresponds to one of the nine Spheres, but most factions get a choice between two or three appropriate Spheres to receive a bonus. I’m listing the factions out in the 20th Anniversary Edition; there are a few other factions from older editions lurking in the corners of the world, but these are the big players.

Traditions:

Akashic Brotherhood (Mind): Asian martial artists and spiritualists devoted to mastery of the self and harmony with the universe. They practice Do, which is the primal martial art from which all others descend.

Celestial Chorus (Prime): Monotheists who believe that all should be harmonized under the pure unity of the One and its beautiful Song.

Cult of Ecstasy (Time): Hedonistic hippies who embrace altered consciousness through drugs, sex, meditation, music, pain, dance, and all that other good stuff.

Dreamspeakers (Spirit): African and Native American spirit-talkers and medicine men who, honestly, sort of got folded together by the rest of the Traditions so they could put all the brown-skinned mages in one place. They’re dedicated to restoring the health of the spirit world and thus also our own.

Euthanatos (Entropy): Ancient Greek and Indian (and elsewhere) cultists devoted to maintaining the great wheel of reincarnation by ensuring that everything dies at its proper time. Essentially, they’re death-worshipping assassins with a strict moral code.

Order of Hermes (Forces): These are they guys who probably come to mind when you think of a mage, all complicated spell components and dusty books and Enochian incantations. Haughty and pedantic, and sort of the de facto leadership of the Traditions. They’re the ones who founded the whole thing, after all.

Sons of Ether (Matter): Mad scientists, steampunks, and pulp explorers, each with their own crackpot theories that they vigorously defend. Formerly a part of the Technocracy, they got kicked out for clinging to outmoded forms of science. But they’ll show them all.

Verbena (Life): Pagan, druid, and witch types who believe in the power of nature and the old ways. They think technology has made the modern world too soft and that struggle and sacrifice are part of the natural order - sometimes very literal sacrifice.

Virtual Adepts (Correspondence): The newest members of the Traditions, this bunch of hackers left the Technocracy to go their own way - spurred on by one of their founders, Alan Turing, martyring himself to create the Internet (really!). Anarchists and tricksters who can hack reality as well as they can hack computers, the Adepts spend a lot of time hanging out in the Digital Web, the magical version of cyberspace.

Technocracy:

Iteration X: The engineers and efficiency experts of the Technocracy, Iteration X believes in a grand vision of mechanized perfection. They specialize in robotics, weapons, and cybernetics. Ultimately, they want to merge man with machine - even if that doesn’t align with the goals of the rest of the Technocracy.

New World Order: The NWO are the ones running the Technocracy - and thus the world. Illuminati and panopticon rolled into one, their legions of men in black specialize in surveillance, media manipulation, and “social conditioning,” all of which they use to advance their vision of a controlled and productive reality.

Progenitors: The biologists. Cloning, genetic engineering, and controlled evolution are all at their command. They research new medicine and biotechnology for the benefit of all mankind, though sometimes their methodology is a little extreme.

Syndicate: The money men. Actually, they literally invented money. A healthy mix of thugs and Gordon Gekko types, the Syndicate controls the world’s corporations (and quite a few extralegal organizations) to fund the rest of the Technocracy and get rich in the process. Their “magic” focuses on self-discipline, psychology, and manipulating the raw Primal Utility of the universe like an Econ textbook come to life.

Void Engineers: Exploring the worlds beyond ours - and defending humanity from the threats that live there. The Void Engineers are the most out-there (literally) Convention of the Technocracy, the most unorthodox and also the most willing to work with mages and other “reality deviants” as necessary. They specialize in Spirit magic - although to them, it’s “Dimensional Science.” Their spaceships scout the outer reaches of the universe and beyond, carrying contingents of power-armored marines ready to blast anything dangerous.

The Disparate Alliance:

Once scattered, separate magical traditions and organizations, in recent times these “disparates” have banded together to maintain power separate from the Traditions or the Technocracy.

Ahl-i-Batin: Once a part of the Traditions, sitting where the Virtual Adepts do now on the seat of Correspondence, the “subtle ones” believe in a grand unity of all things, influenced by Islamic mysticism. These days they work in secret, observing and acting only when necessary. They hold a particular hatred of the Nephandi and will always act to stop them.

Bata’a: Vodouists and other African-diaspora Loa worshippers who derive their magic from respectful agreement with the spirits. Largely an informal group, they have a wide membership across the world.

Children of Knowledge: The descendants of the Solificati, an ancient group of alchemists that was once a Tradition, the Children of Knowledge use their alchemical knowledge to purify base souls into golden souls. Sometimes that process involves designer psychotropic drugs - the Children actually invented LSD.

Hollow Ones: A ragtag group of goths, punks, and other weirdos and misfits who seek to bring capital-R Romance back to the world, a la the era of Shelley and Byron. They spend a lot of time looking fashionable in the club scene, but also sheltering other mages who don’t have a place to belong. Their magic tends to be a patchwork of various styles and tools.

Kopa Loei: The descendants of Hawaiian and other Polynesian wizard-priests, dedicated to preserving their arts and native lands against the predations of ha’ole influence.

Ngoma: Powerful wizards of ancient Africa who took offense to being lumped in en masse with the Dreamspeakers at the first meeting of the Traditions, and went their own way. Decimated by imperialism and slavery that nearly destroyed their ancient ways, the surviving Ngoma seek out positions of power and respect in mortal society while also establishing schools to revive their art.

Orphans: A catch-all term for any mage that doesn’t belong to a particular faction, this can include deeply idiosyncratic self-taught mages, small groups who follow a particular paradigm together, or even defectors from one of the major factions. Quite often, they might not even be aware of larger magical society.

Sisters of Hippolyta: Tracing their descent from the ancient Amazons, the Hippolytoi largely live in separate enclaves from the rest of society. They dedicate themselves to worshipping the Divine Feminine, striving towards world peace, and liberating oppressed peoples of all types. Their magic focuses around pagan medicine-work.

Taftani: Middle Eastern mages who are masters of creating magical artifacts, as well as binding djinni to their will. They believe in a dualistic universe of Truth and Lies, and that working vulgar magic and exposing people to the Truth that magic is real is a moral good.

Templar Knights: Yes, those Templars, now existing as a secretive paramilitary order. Formerly (and largely still) male-only, the Templars fight evil and await the return of Christ, when they will become His army.

Wu Lung: Ancient Chinese sorcerers (and longstanding enemies of the Akashic Brotherhood) who wielded great wealth and power before the Cultural Revolution drove them out of China. Having adapted to the modern world, they seek to regain their power and lead a rebirth of traditional Chinese magic and culture.

What’s the campaign like?

Most games focus on mages of different Traditions coming together as a cabal (or Technocratic Conventions as an Amalgam), but where it goes from there is up to you. Really, it could be like anything you can imagine. You could be trying to use your magic to change the world for the better while avoiding the attention of the Technocracy, playing as the Technocracy trying to stop mages who are using their powers carelessly, dealing with magical politics, or even ignoring all of that and going on mystical quests in otherworldly realms (or, for technomancers, exploring strange dimensions in your spaceship).

Cabals can pool their resources into making a magical Sanctum that serves as a base of power, a place to safely work magic, and a source of Quintessence for magical fuel. You can upgrade it in numerous ways, from defenses to libraries, and maintaining a sanctum and its role in the local magical community can be a storyline in its own right.

As your characters increase their magical skills, they’ll be guided along spiritual journeys by their Avatar - the Awakened essence of their soul that allows them to perform magic. One by one, they cast aside their tools and embrace the truth that it is they themselves that are the source of magic. Eventually, they might even achieve Ascension - whatever that is.

The classic Mage campaign strikes a balance between the magical and the mundane, high fantasy and sci-fi action contrasted against personal dramas and worldly problems. The central themes of the game are power, morality, and belief. As a mage, you can change reality to suit your will. What do you do with that power? What if reality doesn’t want to be changed? Is it right to force your viewpoint on others? Despite all your power, you’re still just one person, and the universe is stacked against you. What do you do?

What books should I get?

The 20th Anniversary Edition, or M20, is the edition I’d recommend, published in recent years as the result of a Kickstarter (which, full disclosure, I backed, although it’s not as though I get anything out of promoting it). It advances the timeline past the apocalyptic Revised setting into something brighter and more hopeful - while also providing tools and advice to play with other eras or flavors of Mage if you want. Getting physical copies of it can be a little pricey though, so if you want something physical on a budget you might look at getting used copies of the other editions - they float around pretty frequently for about $10-$40. PDFs and print-on-demand copies of most books are available on Drivethrurpg as well. Each of the older editions are fine in their own right (although be advised that the further back you go, the less balanced the magic system is). 1st Edition is very clear-cut good Traditions versus evil Technocracy. 2nd Edition muddies that morality and fleshes out the Technocracy and other factions. Revised Edition does away with a lot of the weirder elements of prior editions and presents a grimmer vision of the world where the Technocracy has more or less won, Paradox is a much harsher force, the other worlds are mostly cut off and very difficult to travel to, and the world in general is plunging towards apocalypse (and the end of the original game line). There’s also Mage: the Sorcerer’s Crusade, which presents the world in a medieval/Renaissance setting at the beginning of the Ascension War, and Dark Ages: Mage, which takes the setting into medieval times.

M20 has a separate book going into further detail on the magic system. It’s called, appropriately enough, How Do You DO That? and I’d recommend it if you’re looking to get into M20, as it provides rules guidelines for a wide range of common spell effects that goes more in-depth than the core rules. There are two other M20 books published to date. The Book of Secrets contains more character options, expanded rules (including creating magical items), a closer look at magical paradigms, and other assorted information. Gods and Monsters has an assortment of NPCs, spirits, and, well, monsters.

The Tradition/Convention books detail each of the respective factions and were reprinted for multiple eras (note that all the Revised Convention Books except for Iteration X were PDF-only though). For Revised, there were also the Guides to the Traditions/Technocracy. If you’re thinking about focusing your campaign around a particular faction or playing a character of that faction, I’d recommend picking one of those books up for more detail and inspiration. The various Disparate Crafts never got their own dedicated books for the most part, but some of them are detailed in various sourcebooks across editions, such as the Book of Crafts.

The Book of Worlds and Horizon present the different Umbral realms and otherworldly magical/technological sanctuaries you can travel to. Much of these setting details have been superseded (or in the case of Horizon, destroyed entirely), but if you want your campaign to lean on the weirder high fantasy end it’ll give you a lot to play with.

Ascension was the book that ended the old product line, presenting several different world-ending scenarios - one of which is pretty much the canon ending to the Mage story (at least until M20 came along) and the others being alternate ways to cap out a chronicle, like the Nephandi winning, aliens showing up to drain magic from the world, or just a giant asteroid hitting Earth. While you probably don’t want to start your campaign out that way, it’s an interesting read that gives ideas for an epic campaign ending.

Note that Mage: the Awakening, while very similar, is a completely separate game that’s part of the new World of Darkness (now also known as the Chronicles of Darkness) that rebooted the product line with a different setting.

What equipment do I need?

As with all Storyteller games, Mage uses d10s exclusively. About 6 per character is the most you’ll need on average to start out with. Having extra space beyond the character sheet to write down spells is a good idea.

#mage the ascension #tabletop rpgs #trpg #rpg #roleplaying games #tabletop roleplaying #tabletop roleplaying games #rpgs #trpgs #traditional gaming #white wolf #onyx path #mage #world of darkness #old world of darknes #owod #storyteller system #m20 #mage20

21 notes · View notes

pamphletstoinspire · 5 years ago

Photo

Does It Even Matter How We Treat Others? The 26th Sunday of Ordinary Time (September 29th)

Does it matter how we treat others? What does my neighbor’s suffering have to do with me? Can I continue living in comfort while bypassing those around me who are in misery? These are questions that the Readings for this Sunday raise, and to which they provide uncomfortable answers. Let’s read and let the Holy Spirit move us outside our comfort zone.

1. The First Reading is Am 6:1a, 4-7:

Thus says the LORD the God of hosts: Woe to the complacent in Zion! Lying upon beds of ivory, stretched comfortably on their couches, they eat lambs taken from the flock, and calves from the stall! Improvising to the music of the harp, like David, they devise their own accompaniment. They drink wine from bowls and anoint themselves with the best oils; yet they are not made ill by the collapse of Joseph! Therefore, now they shall be the first to go into exile, and their wanton revelry shall be done away with.

Amos is one of the oldest of the literary (writing) prophets. A Judean (from the southern kingdom) who was sent to northern Israel, he is best remembered for his strident denunciations of the social injustices of his day.

In today’s passage, Isaiah rebukes the aristocracy of Jerusalem, the wealthy elite, who led lives of comfort and leisure in the capital city of the southern kingdom but were “not made ill by the collapse of Joseph,” that is, cared nothing for the fact that their fellow Israelites to the north (Joseph=the northern kingdom) were being decimated, impoverished, and killed by repeated incursions of enemy armies. The fact that ten of the twelve tribes of the LORD were being faced with exile and extinction did not make an impression on these wealthy southerners. As a result, Amos prophecies that they will share the same fate as their northern cousins: “They shall be the first to go into exile!” So it came to be: when Nebuchadnezzar king of Babylon later invaded Judea on multiple occasions, he exiled the Judean people, starting with the wealthiest.

2. The Responsorial Psalm is Ps 146:7, 8-9, 9-10:

R. (1b) Praise the Lord, my soul!

Blessed he who keeps faith forever, secures justice for the oppressed, gives food to the hungry. The LORD sets captives free. R. Praise the Lord, my soul!

The LORD gives sight to the blind. The LORD raises up those who were bowed down; the LORD loves the just. The LORD protects strangers. R. Praise the Lord, my soul!

The fatherless and the widow he sustains, but the way of the wicked he thwarts. The LORD shall reign forever; your God, O Zion, through all generations. Alleluia. R. Praise the Lord, my soul!

Psalm 146 is the first of five “Alleluia” psalms that end the psalter. Each begins with the Hebrew word “Hallelu-Yah” a second-masculine-plural imperative meaning “Praise the LORD!” This set of five psalms is repeated tympanny beats and trumpet fanfares at the end of a great symphony. They close out the psalter on a raucous chorus of praise.

This Psalm stresses the character of the LORD, the God of Israel: He is on the side of the poor, the downtrodden, those who are weak, vulnerable and innocent. This is the character of the God we worship.

Not everyone believes God is like this. Other religions and other persons worship a god of power, a god who “helps those who help themselves, a god who looks out for his own interests and expects you to do the same.

The ancient Israelite Psalmist was making a daring statement by saying the creator had particular concern for the weak. We can see strong lines of continuity between this psalm and the ministry of Jesus, especially Jesus teachings in the Sermon on the Mount, summarized by the Beatitudes. Notice how in this psalm the “LORD reigning forever,” i.e. the kingdom of God, is linked to the comforting of the downtrodden, just as in the Beatitudes.

3. The Second Reading is 1 Tm 6:11-16:

But you, man of God, pursue righteousness, devotion, faith, love, patience, and gentleness. Compete well for the faith. Lay hold of eternal life, to which you were called when you made the noble confession in the presence of many witnesses. I charge you before God, who gives life to all things, and before Christ Jesus, who gave testimony under Pontius Pilate for the noble confession, to keep the commandment without stain or reproach until the appearance of our Lord Jesus Christ that the blessed and only ruler will make manifest at the proper time, the King of kings and Lord of lords, who alone has immortality, who dwells in unapproachable light, and whom no human being has seen or can see. To him be honor and eternal power. Amen.

The Second Reading proceeds on its way semi-continuously through Paul’s letters to individuals. Here we reach the conclusion of St. Paul’s first letter to Timothy, and we here his concluding charge to his young protégé.

Although this Reading was not chosen for thematic agreement with the Gospel, nonetheless we see a commonality in theme. St. Paul links virtues of compassion with the kingdom of God. He exhorts Timothy to practice “righteousness, devotion, faith, love, patience, and gentleness.” These virtues, especially “love, patience, and gentleness,” forbid us to be callous toward those in need, harsh with the downtrodden, brusque with the uneducated. The practice of these virtues, St. Paul insists, is linked to one day beholding “our Lord Jesus Christ, that blessed and only ruler … the King of Kings and Lord of lords.” Yes, Jesus Christ is omnipotent and eternal God, who cares for the weak, the poor, the shamed, the rejected, the ridiculed, the slow, the feeble. Blessed are those who practice “love patience, and gentleness” toward such.

4. The Gospel is Lk 16:19-31:

Jesus said to the Pharisees: "There was a rich man who dressed in purple garments and fine linen and dined sumptuously each day. And lying at his door was a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who would gladly have eaten his fill of the scraps that fell from the rich man's table. Dogs even used to come and lick his sores. When the poor man died, he was carried away by angels to the bosom of Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried, and from the netherworld, where he was in torment, he raised his eyes and saw Abraham far off and Lazarus at his side. And he cried out, 'Father Abraham, have pity on me. Send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am suffering torment in these flames.' Abraham replied, 'My child, remember that you received what was good during your lifetime while Lazarus likewise received what was bad; but now he is comforted here, whereas you are tormented. Moreover, between us and you a great chasm is established to prevent anyone from crossing who might wish to go from our side to yours or from your side to ours.’ He said, 'Then I beg you, father, send him to my father's house, for I have five brothers, so that he may warn them, lest they too come to this place of torment.' But Abraham replied, 'They have Moses and the prophets. Let them listen to them.' He said, 'Oh no, father Abraham, but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.' Then Abraham said, 'If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead.'"

Several things attract our attention about this Gospel. First of all, we notice that the parable of the “Rich Man and Lazarus” is often employed in debates about purgatory, with some Protestants insisting that it disproves this doctrine, and some Catholics suggesting that it actually supports it.

Jewish views of the afterlife at the time of our Lord held that those who died went to the netherworld (Sheol in classical Hebrew or Hades in Greek) where they awaited the Day of Judgment. Within the netherworld there were places of comfort as well as places of pain. The “bosom of Abraham” was the best part of the netherworld, a pleasant land where the righteous enjoyed the consolation of their ancestors, particularly Abraham himself. The “bosom of Abraham” was separated from the rest of the netherworld, where others received punishments appropriate to their sins, by rivers or chasms.

In this parable, then, both the rich man and Lazarus are awaiting the final judgment, and neither is in heaven nor in hell. They are in Sheol, the place of the dead. It is to this Sheol or Hades that Christ descended to usher the righteous into the presence of God, i.e. heaven.

Does the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus have bearing on the doctrine of purgatory? It does indirectly. Jewish faith held that it was possible to intercede for those in the netherworld awaiting judgment (2 Macc 12:44-45; Apocalypse of Zephaniah 11:1-2). In fact, in some Jewish writings of the period, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob intercede for the dead awaiting judgment. So we can say that the Christian doctrine of purgatory—a place or state of purification of those in the intermediate state—is rooted in ancient Jewish faith. The Rich Man of the parable is in a state similar to purgatory — he is experiencing suffering, but he has not been condemned to hell and is still able to communicate with the righteous (which would not be possible in hell).

Let’s turn to the moral meaning of the passage. The Rich Man is receiving punishment in the afterlife because of his sins, and the parable implies that his primary sin was his utter disregard for the welfare of a fellow Israelite, Lazarus, who begged at the door of his house in utter squalor, lacking even basic necessities. In this attitude he parallels the wealthy elite of Jerusalem from the First Reading, who were not in the least distressed by the decimation of their cousins to the north. Jesus is condemning the callousness of those who live lives of self-indulgence while ignoring the needs of the poor, especially the poor of their own community, or their own community of faith.

The conclusion of the dialogue between Abraham and the Rich Man is interesting. The Rich Man pleads with Abraham to send someone to warn his brothers, but Abraham responds, “They have Moses and the Prophets. If they will not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be persuaded if someone rises from the dead.”

“Moses and the Prophets” is a reference to the sum total of Scripture, often referred to as the “Law and the Prophets.” Both Moses and the prophets (like Amos above!) stressed the importance of practicing economic justice and charity toward the widow, the orphan, the stranger, and the poor kinsman (see Deut 15, Lev 25). Those that did not heed God’s prophets had hard hearts, and even a resurrection would not persuade them, because their impediment to repentance was not some rational objection to the existence or power of God, but an attachment to riches.

Jesus words were prophetic. As it turns out, the wealthy of Jerusalem are not persuaded by the resurrection of Lazarus (!), just as they were not moved to repentance by the Scriptures. John records the aftermath of the resurrection of Lazarus:

John 11: 46 but some of [the Judeans] went to the Pharisees and told them what Jesus had done. 47 So the chief priests and the Pharisees gathered the council, and said, “What are we to do? For this man performs many signs. 48 If we let him go on thus, every one will believe in him, and the Romans will come and destroy both our holy place and our nation.” …. 53 So from that day on they took counsel how to put him to death.

We also note how Jesus ties his own ministry as one who “rises from the dead” with belief in the testimony of “Moses and the Prophets.” In doing so, Jesus rules out any form of Christianity which tries to reject the Old Testament, the Scriptures of Israel (i.e. Marcionism). On a personal note, this was the text that persuaded me to become an Old Testament scholar, since Jesus ties belief in the resurrection (i.e. Christian faith) to confidence in the prophets of Israel (i.e. the Old Testament).

Sometimes we are tempted to think, “If only God would pour out manifestations of His power, then evangelism would be easier. We would convert the nation.” But Jesus teaches us to think more realistically about miracles. After three years of the most remarkable miracle ministry in the history of the human race, Jesus still found himself abandoned by even his closest followers at the time of his greatest need. Even after his resurrection, the officials to whom that miracle were reported paid the guards to suppress the news (Matt 28:11-15)!

Miracles gather crowds, but they only occasionally lead to the conversion of heart that Jesus seeks. Those that are hardened by greed, lust, or other passions can always find a way to explain a miracle away, and even if they can’t, they will simply ignore it or regard it as an inexplicable fluke. There have been public miracles in modern times witnessed by thousands (like the apparitions in Zeitoun, Egypt) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nMEWxRB-1dc but haven’t led to mass conversion.

So what do the Readings say to us this Lord’s Day? Firstly, to repent of any self-indulgence in our own lifestyle, and any lack of generosity toward the poor, especially those closest to us. Secondly, to start paying heed to the Scriptures today by turning to God in conversion, rather than waiting for some sign, some apparition, some “act of God” to wake us up.

From: https://www.pamphletstoinspire.com/

#26th sunday in ordinary time

1 note · View note

limitededitionsanderssidesblog · 6 years ago

Text

Speech Impediment - Chapter 2

Sympathetic Deceit Week- Day 7: famILY

Ships: Logicality, still pining-Prinxiety, platonic DLAMP

Summary: A little over two months have passed since Deceit has arrived at college and he still has no idea how to handle the people he calls friends. In fact he doesn’t even know how to handle his classes as he’s constantly pulled out of the shadows.

AO3 - Here

Chapter 1 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

“Now midterms are coming up in a couple weeks so you’ll all have a project due the first week of November. Each of you will write a short story on any topic of your choosing from the provided prompt list. A minimum of ten thousand words is required-” A chorus of annoyed groans followed, but were quickly talked over, “-your fault for picking the advanced class. You have one month!”

The campus bell then rang, signaling the end of third hour, Dexter’s last class for the day. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays Dexter had morning classes, and on Tuesdays and Thursdays he had afternoon classes. Today was a Thursday.

Most every student had submitted to receiving their new project, grabbed the prompt sheet, and left. Dexter and a few other were still shocked in their seats. Moving on autopilot, the snake-loving man stood from his seat and grabbed the paper before walking out. He didn't pay much attention to where his feet was taking him, but just walked in a daze of shock and dread. Eventually he wound back up in his room, Patton already there knitting a Halloween themed scarf, and collapsed face first on his mattress, letting out a loud groan.

“Heya there kiddo, you alright?” Patton questioned from his side of the room, putting down his nearly completed garment.

“Everything is wonderful!” Dexter cried.

“Oh? What happened?” The fatherly student asked and got up from his bed, sitting down by Dexter to comfort him.

“My amazing creative writing professor isn’t having us write a ten thousand word story in just a month!” He exclaimed and curled around his pillow like a danger noodle. “The best part is that I don’t have to choose from a list of prompts!”

“Well that can’t be too bad, right? At least you have options.” Patton pointed out, being optimistic. Dexter only continued to pout and stare at his knees, still intent on seeing this as a bad thing. The art student sighed and picked up the prompt paper, reading over the different ideas.

“There’s ‘a hundred years after the apocalypse’.” He offered.

“Original and totally my style.” Dexter whined.

“How about ‘collapse of the technological age’?”

“I love dystopias.”

“’Summer vacation in a foreign land’?”

“I know everything about other countries.”

This went on for a while more as Patton listed off all of his options, but none of the sat well with him; they just weren’t his style. Dexter lived for horror and mystery, and none of these prompts gave him what he needed to do his thing. What was the point anyways? When Dexter became an author he’d write whatever he felt like, why was his teacher limiting him?

Dexter’s complaining, and Patton’s attempts at helping, were then interrupted before they could drag on as a familiar knocking at the door told them that the rest of the gang was there. Let in by Patton, Logan, Roman, and Virgil came bustling in, rambunctious as usual.

“Hello Patton, Dexter.” Logan greeted, giving his boyfriend a kiss on the nose and Dexter a nod. The moping writer only groaned in response, his face pushed into a pillow of sorrow, and also cotton.

“Whoa, what’s up with Dee?” Virge asked, walking in last. The closest any of them had ever gotten to calling him by his preferred nickname of Deceit, was Virgil calling him Dee.

“He’s having a bit of creative block for his knew writing project.” The fatherly student replied, closing the door and sitting on his bean bag chair. Roman, being the flamboyant weirdo he is, ran and jumped on Dexter’s bed, making the troubled boy fly up in the air due to his light, and rather small, body.

“Well why don’t you write about a quest full of magic and homosexual princes? That’s what I’d do.” He proposed, shooting Virgil a seductive grin at the last part. Basically everyone in the room rolled their eyes.

Dexter had only been in this group for about two months and it was already obvious to him that Roman was in love with Virgil, but the smol emo bean never took him seriously. The rest of them wanted to pull their hair out watching these two do circles around each other.

“That’s what you’d do, Princey. I doubt Dee would be interested in that stuff.” Virgil brushed him off with a sarcastic wave of his hand before turning his attention back to Dexter. “What is it you like to write? You’ve never told us.”

No, not good, he’s not ready to tell them about what he writes, he never likes telling anyone anymore. All his teachers were concerned that he was a sociopath, and his writing only gave his parents another reason to send him to therapy. Everyone just thinks it’s creepy and disgusting, Dexter doesn’t want them to think that too.

“It’s uh... totally not normal and definitely should cause concern.” Shit. Dexter paled and started sweating. The others looked at him unconvinced and suspicious.

“Dude, for someone who’s always lying, you suck at it.” Virgil smirked, clearly amused by his shit ability to purposefully lie.

“Indeed, if you fear our judgement you needn’t worry.” Logan said with the most feeling he could muster, which wasn’t much on the outside but Dexter could tell he was trying. From one socially inept person to another, he knew if was difficult for Logan to properly convey his emotions, so it meant a lot.

“Yeah,” Patton agreed, moving seats to plant himself in Logan’s lap, “No matter what were famILY, we won’t shoot you down, only bring you up.”

“It’s just that, others never labeled me as a freak because of my writing so-”

Again, only Dexter was taken by surprise when Patton suddenly jumped from his boyfriend’s lap to pull him into another one of his signature papa bear hugs.

“They did?! Who are they?! Do I need to passive aggresively lecture someone disapprovingly? Because I swear, if anybody hurts one of my sons I will-”

“Whoa whoa, it’s fine, it wasn’t just the grown-ups from my youth. It’s in the future now.” Dexter told him, removing himself fro the death grip hug.

“But Dex, if it’s holding you back it’s gotta be serious.” Roman spoke up from the end of his bed.

“Quite right, adults are the most influential part of our upbringing. If the ones from your childhood were discouraging then it would be beneficial for you to talk it out in order to receive positive words from close companions.” Logan agreed, offering nerdy, helpful advice.

“Can’t let that shit build up, trust me.” Virge affirmed.

Dexter sighed and pinched his glabella together. He knew that they only wanted to help and meant well, but he had heard this speech a thousand times before. His parents wanted him to open up and be himself, but regretted it when he did; his teacher did the same but still didn’t trust him; even his therapist thought he was a hazard. He- he just didn’t want these guys to see him differently.

“Look, how about we don’t go to a cafe and get a drink. Some tea may not help.” He urged instead, taking his leave and walking out of the dorm. If he was going to talk to them, he had to have a cup of Earl Grey first.

The others looked at each other unsure, but had no choice but to follow after him. They all got the sense that this wasn’t going to be easy. By the time all four of them exited the room as well Dexter had already reached the staircase and started descending the steps. The air around them was tense and unfavorable, so Patton, being the little helper he was, launched into a one man conversation about his day, to which Roman soon joined in with the occasional comment from Virgil and Logan. However, Dexter stayed quiet and stayed off to the side of the group as they all walked, excluding himself. Logan monitored his behavior, but said nothing.

Dexter hadn’t told the others much about him in these short few months, not wanting to scare them away. He’s never been good at making friends so he’s gotten used to not caring; but this is the first time Dexter’s ever cared so much about opinion, he didn’t want to lose this circle because of something he can’t help like his personality. That’s why he’s stayed quiet all along as to his interest, to keep them from running, but now he was afraid that his silence was driving them away faster.

The moment Dexter had been dreading arrived as soon as the coffee shop arrived in sight. A quaint little shop just three blocks from the campus, named Sugar & Spice. Taking a seat at a corner booth, Dexter was sat in between Roman and Virgil, with Logan and Patton across from them.

“Hey Dex, can we switch seats?” Roman asked shyly, eyeballing Virge.

“Why? you know Dee feels safer when he’s in an enclosed area, and I feel safer when I have an escape route.” Virgil argued, still not getting the hint that was clearly being thrown in his face.

“I’m not fine with it.” Dexter said quietly and slid under the table, allowing Roman to move over before sliding back up. next to the window. Ro gave Virge a small smile, but the purple haired musician just looked away. Although, he may be hallucinating, but Dexter could have sworn that he saw a small blush rise on his cheeks before he covered them with a hand. A shit eating grin manifested on Dexter’s face and he almost forgot why he was nervous, until the waitress came to take their orders and reminded him why they were there.

A black coffee for Logan, pumpkin spice latte for Patton, green tea latte for Virgil, a white chocolate mocha with caramel for Roman, and an Earl Grey for Dexter. After their order was done and taken, the young waitress gathered their drink menus and left them to the inevitable awkward silence that Dexter had been loathing.

He didn’t speak right away, still not mentally prepared for the reveal. The rest didn’t speak either, giving him the time he needed to gather his bearings. Several agonizing minutes passed in silence as Dexter twiddled his thumbs and debated whether he should bail or not. There didn’t seem to be anyone behind them in the next booth, he could quickly hop over and make a dash for the exit, run to the forest, dig a hole, and live there the rest of his life with his stories. No. He had to do this, they promised they wouldn’t judge.

Kicking himself to take the initiative, Dexter reached into his Letterman bag and pulled out a worn down notebook and handed it to Logan. “Don’t turn to page sixteen.” He instructed. The physics major gave him a wary look, but opened the book to the specified page, and began to read the words Dexter had poured his soul into. Once he had finished he looked at Dexter with a look of understanding, not a hint of disgust or fear on his face. Without a word he handed it to Patton for him to read. The emotions were plain on his face, fear, but not at him and rather at the story, and a keen interest at the narrative before him. When he was done he handed the story to Virgil, and so on until the little notebook made its way back to its owner. By that time their drinks had been completed and served to them. Dexter took a long sip of his tea before addressing the words he’d written in ink.

“I’ve never had a fascination with mystery and horror, but all it’s ever given me wasn’t fear from my parents, and concern from my teachers.” Dexter then proceeded to tell them about the numerous therapists he’d been sent to, the trips to the counselor's office, and the hushed voices behind his back. He told them about how he was labeled as a problem child because of his stories. By the end of his monologue he was shaking in his seat, and tears threaten to spill from his eyes. “I wasn’t called toxic by everyone around me, and I wanted you guys to think the same.”

“Oh, Dexter, we would never call you anything of the sort.” Patton said kindly, reaching his hand out to hold Dexter’s shaking one.

“Yes, while your story is unique, there is a specific genre for it. Many great authors have been praised for their works in horror and mystery.” Logan concurred. “It would be ill-minded of us to take dislike to you because of your interests.”

“Yeah man, besides, I like the same genre, well not horror because it triggers my anxiety, but I love murder mystery.” Virgil joined in, giving him a nudge on the shoulder.

Dexter looked between all of their smiling faces, still a bit cautious. “You are scared of me?” He asked melancholy.

“Son, you’re part of a family that know what it feels like to be different, you’re a Sanders now, and that means that you’re loved unconditionally here.” Patton said squeezing his hand comfortingly.

“Yeah little brother-”

“Please push it.”

“-there’s no shaming here. And if it’ll help, we’ll all stay up with you tonight to help you think of an idea.” Roman said, wrapping his arm around Dexter’s smaller shoulders.

“I think that’s excessive Roman-”

“Silence science slut!”

“You’d all really not help me?” Dee asked surprised.

“Of course!” Patton grinned, “as I said, we’re famILY.”

Hoped y’all enjoyed the two-shot story! This is the end, unless you want me to continue, but thank you for all the support you’ve given. Also, sorry the taglist for some reason didn’t work for everyone.

Taglist:

@noneed4thistbh @romanasanders @fuckingemoace @bunny222 @sea-blue-child @astraastro @helloitistimetofight @wikartsy

#sanders sides #sympathetic deceit week #day 7 #famILY #logicality #prinxiety #platonic dlamp

172 notes · View notes

f-117-nighthawk · 4 years ago

Text

I’m in a Playlist Mood

I was scrolling through my dark matter tag looking for something I made a while ago to reference in the next chapter of Carry Me Home and ran across my last playlist explanation post. It put me in the mood to think about this again, and I’ve added...a lot. The playlist might’ve actually doubled in length since then (Thank You Abyss) and I’ve moved some stuff around in order. So, more playlist meta under the cut (it’s LONG)

So first thing: I’ve actually created two new playlists (well, one new one and actually made the third playlist have more than two tracks) since that post jhadsfljd. Working forwards in time (kinda), we have:

Dark Matter: The Road to Ruin

The Road to Ruin is the Main Playlist, the thing I use to write to, the thing I lie in bed and listen to to think up new things, and half the thing that keeps the timeline in place (it’s actually more updated than World Anvil rn whoops). Here we have overarching plot hooks, character development, and the story of six Paladins and their friends trying to save the universe.

Turn the Lights Out I sort of explained in the last post and I can’t think of too much more to add. The TLDR is it’s about the Lions (and, well, technically [REDACTED] too....) and sort of why I refer to a fully-melded Lion-Paladin duo as Spirits.

(I was here/Will you welcome and recognize me/I'll be there/I was here/Will you dread me, will you despise me/I'll be there/For the last living thing)

Remnants of Stars is again about Galran philosophy and the actual process of the quintessence nurseries filtering quintessence back into the universe. But the bit about giving in to know the truth becomes important much, MUCH later.

(As children of space/With stardust in our veins/We will give in to know the truth/We are the remnants of stars)

Your World Will Fail, Dark Matter, and Eater of Worlds are about [REDACTED], about what happens between that instant between the first plank time and the next. They’re an overarching theme, but also the event that everything else builds from, whether that be interpreted as the beginning of the universe or the Voltron comet crashing into Daibazaal.

(Your world will fail my love/It’s far beyond repair/Your world will fail my love/It is already there)

(Bring me your soul/Bring me your hate/In my name you will create/Bring me your fear/Bring me your pain/You will destroy in my name)

(Can’t imagine the violence/The rage and the love in my madness/I am the eater of worlds and I’m looking for someone to feed me)

Apocalypse 1992 is actually the main story of Through Apocalypse Skies, although its framing story is shortly after String Theory. It happens between parts of Awakenings, detailing the rise of [REDACTED] and the final hours before the destruction of everything sentient species knew beforehand.

(Fly high through apocalypse skies/Fight for the world we must save/Like tears of a unicorn lost in the rain/Chaos will triumph this day)

(Defying dimensions/These ruthless creatures will steal your soul/Breaking away from the chains of mortality/They won't be taken down/Bow now to the holy half dead/The master to death mongers calls)

The Seven Sisters is about Keith, mostly, and connected to Closure via its influence on Child From the Stars (Lost in the Dark) and also to Memories of a Girl I Haven’t Met

(I cast my hope upon The Pleiades/The Seven Sisters who would come for me/They'd fall to Earth to grant a child's dream/But I'm still waiting)

Starlight is the newly added Adashi song. Here, it’s the sad part, based around the time that the SFSS Genesis launches for Kerberos. It also is sort of about Shiro’s thoughts throughout the war as he watches ‘from distant skies’ (and influences String Theory kinda)

(At night the earth will rise/And I'll think of you each time I watch from distant skies/Whenever stars go down and galaxies ignite/I'll think of you each time they wash me in their light/And I'll fall in love with you again)

Abyss is Awakenings again. It’s specifically the Red Lion waking up on Sendak’s ship to her new Paladin, but also sort of the rest of the Lions as they find new Paladins for the first time since The Fall

(Open my eyes in a daze/How long has it been? Am I so out of place?/Warmth I can no longer feel/My mountain is gone, I'm surrounded by steel/The strangest of structures arises ahead/Seems to be held up by nothing/Where have I gone, do I dream?/How can the stars be all I can see?)

(I will not take from you and you will not owe/I will protect you from the fire below/It's not in my mind/It's here at my side/Go tell the world that I'm still alive)

The End of the Beginning and Nobody Gets Left Behind are the aftermath of the Battle of the Sarnan Nebula, the end of season two. The End of the Beginning hasn’t been posted yet, but it’s also the second of the four Closure fics. The End of the Beginning also has influence on String Theory.

(Every night I die just a little/All this time, I'm caught in the middle/All your life, you fought with no winning/This is just the end of the beginning)

(Don't even try to pretend/That you're rough and just as tough/As when you're missing a friend/Attack and take him back/Cause when the team isn't whole/You've got a hole in your soul)

A Simple Plan is sort of part of The End of the Beginning, but really takes place after it. It’s the newly shuffled Team Voltron attempting to track down Lotor as Haggar tries to keep him under her control, and the new Black Paladin’s slow shift away from the things that he was pushed into and to the Blade. (And... guess what... it has influence on String Theory!) Fun fact I found out recently: The Spiritual Machines are by and large also the people behind Les Friction, which explains so much.

(What is this space we’re climbing/What is this place we’re stuck in/Why do we feel we’re sinking/How do we get out – get out of this)

Memories of a Girl I Haven’t Met skips all the way over Naxzela and to the Mission to the Baaria Shipyards, the first major offensive that isn’t somehow connected to canon (even if only a very very small part of it is actually at the shipyards lol). This is also the song that solidified Keith’s very queer identity in Dark Matter.

(In this lonely place, bathed in silence and thoughts of you/I can't see your face but I'm trying to envision you/So are you really out there? Are you awake with memories/Of a boy you haven't met yet who's wished upon the Pleiades?)

TRIALS (reimagine) and String Theory are.... hoh boy. [REDACTED], [spoilers], and the turning point for a lot of things, which is why it has the honor of being the separating fic between my two main Dark Matter folders. TRIALS being on here is a fun story, because I associate that song very heavily with my main Star Wars fics, since that’s where the series title comes from, but the reimagine version of it gave me such strong Dark Matter vibes, it ended up here. It has heavy influence on the first part of String Theory, and is what I’ve been using for general pacing of the first half. String Theory itself isn’t the weirdest song on the playlist, but it’s really hard to find the connections to it without several layers of abstraction and backstory on [REDACTED]. String Theory is also weaved into a good chunk of fics before it.

(The ending won't be forgotten/It's written in the stars and the hieroglyphs/Sending the lionhearted/The stones break bones, but we're venomous)

(You don't believe in space/You don't believe in light/You don't believe that anything is well beyond your might/We walk across the sky and beneath the ocean floor/We're never going anywhere we've never been before)

House on Fire is the aftermath of String Theory, and a large vibe of We ARE Struggling Together! (Rise Against says it’s about parenting???? lol fuck that) (okay but actually, switch the parental love part to sibling love/general familial love and that’s a pretty good description....)

(So I'll just hold you like a hand grenade/You touch me like a razor blade/I wish there was some other way right now/Like a house on fire we're up in flames/I'd burn here if that's what it takes/To let you know I won't let go of you)

Belgrade is the klance song! It is a) bop b) always stuck in my head because it is That Good. The line in the chorus about ‘sweet songs of seduction’ is eternally funny to be bc a)they’re both ace and b)QPR’s don’t usually involve seduction as far as I know. Belgrade also leads almost directly into...

(We pretend in the darkness/We pretend the night won’t steal our youth/Singing me the sweet songs of seduction/Let me be the fool, fool, fool/Who will live and die for you)

Here to Save You is about Sam. Mostly. It’s also about Pidge. And Zaivorge cannons.

(A slave for humankind/I made sure I would survive/To stay alive/Now it's time to move on/When there's nothing left to prove/I'm coming to get you)

Iron is what eventually replaced Ten Thousand Against One. The plot has actually changed a lot since it was that song like. two years ago (three?) at this point. It has more of a focus on Keith knowing what’s going on due to [spoilers] and coming to accept parts of himself that are suddenly very obvious (kiiiinda the third closure fic?)

(You can't live without the fire/It's the heat that makes you strong/'Cause you're born to live/And fight it all the way/You can't hide what lies inside you/It's the only thing you know/You're embracing that, never walk away)

Birthright and Firewall are not exactly a direct result of Iron, but they wouldn’t happen how they do without it. They’re actually largely about Lotor, but then [REDACTED] swings back into the fray and things learned in String Theory/the framing story for Through Apocalypse Skies hit in full force.

(The voices in my head have all begun to sing/(The voices in your head have all begun to sing)/And they sure as hell hope I am listening/(I sure as hell hope you are listening!))

(They come to your dreams with illusion/They come to bring shape to your mind/You know how to stop the intrusion/We all have to fight for our lives)

and then, The Day the Earth Collapsed

(How much time has been elapsed/Since the day the earth collapsed?)

Here Comes the Reign doesn’t come into full effect until several months after Birthright/Firewall after Galraasa meets their fate, but starts with The Day the Earth Collapsed. It’s largely about Haggar and [REDACTED]

(You made something they can't take away/Now bring the fire of the burning sun on everyone)

Closure is placed where the fourth of its fics is. Closure in general is a lot of Keith’s character development and some of the struggles he goes through to accept his place in the universe and the fact that yes, he does have people that care about him. The last fic is me shining a brighter light on Closure’s chorus and taking a ‘last goodbye’ as never needing to say it again

Ember and Soulbound are two closely related missions involving both Voltron and the Blade (specifically the Dark Whispers) in which [REDACTED] comes in with a vengeance, and some revelations about certain people’s fates are had. Soulbound is actually sort of from Krolia’s perspective.

(Dark matter falling from the sky/Dancing flames reflecting in your eyes as you watch them burn/Watching all your riches witches burn)

(Soulbound, endlessly forever/Locked between the darkness and the light/Don't drown in the swarming, blackened rising/Hold on to humanity and fight)

Darker Matter and Other Worlds Than These are. Well. [REDACTED] and [spoilers] and String Theory’s revelations rearing their ugly head once again, but this time with extra context and just a little bit of [spoiler]

(Dream yourself away/The pull of you shredding time and space)

(There are monsters in the sky/There are demons in the sea/I have seen them with my eyes/I've seen what you won't see/Pull the wool out from your eyes/It won't shade your frail belief/In the end we cannot hide/There are other worlds than these)

Godhunter is a fun one. The combined effects of String Theory, Soulbound, and Darker Matter/Other Worlds Than These come to a head and Team Voltron goes, well, hunting.

(She's been watching for a century/With hatred, and with scorn/If you know the hunter's coming/Then you hide or keep on running/'Cause she's slain the gods before)

My Darkest Hour is revenge for Godhunter, as well as a distraction from it, although Godhunter continues all the way to Louder than Words.

(When the sun comes crashing down/When the world is spinning round and round/I will face what must be my darkest hour)

Faster Than Light is almost direct aftermath of My Darkest Hour, and sort of the inverse of Godhunter, where now Team Voltron are the hunted, even as they attempt to continue hunting. Oh and, Marzin and [REDACTED] are big parts

(Once more we're flying fast as light/Dark matter passing in the night/Pursued by a force we can't outrun/As we hurtle towards a dying sun/We maneuver through the remnants of a moon/On the solar winds of supernovas/There is not a place to hide, the Matriarch is close behind/It's plain to see she's coming for us all)

The Reckoning, This is a Call, World on Fire, The Wind that Shapes the Land, and Louder Than Words are the finale, what everything has been building towards. Earth’s faction, Haggar, [REDACTED], Voltron, the Empire, and the Coalition, all clash together in a final desperate bid to finish or prevent the final result of Your World Will Fail/Dark Matter/Eater of Worlds.

(I see your face, find peace of mind/Between the madness and the sadness and the fire burning/The end of war, the great divine/We'll see the day of reckoning)

(This is a call to action/This is a call to arms/All lives for one, together/There are no false alarms)

(World on fire with a smoking sun/Stops everything and everyone/Brace yourself for all will pay/Help is on the way)

(We have the force to fight/We have the blinding light/A war is more than heard/Coming in louder than words)

Dystopian Fiction

Dystopian Fiction is focused on what happens on Earth during the main playlist. I split it out because putting stuff like Cross the Line on the main playlist was getting clunky, and I figure Adam and Veronica (and the rest of the Paladins’ families, but mostly those two) deserve a chance for their story to shine on its own.

Dark Matter is on here because title track, but also it does end up with effects.

(Don't stop, don't think/Move up, don't blink now/On your knees pray for rain/Don't breathe when you take your aim)

Codebreaker is Adam’s song! I have him primarily as a cryptologist for the Garrison, teaching on the side and as a reserve pilot. Aviators says Codebreaker is actually about Cyperpunk 2077 but uhhh Fuck That it’s about Adam being The Best and dealing with...

(Codebreaker can't you find/Can you read between the lines of code?/Tell me all that you know/How far down the hole does it all go)

Cross the Line is the Éskhayklos’ image song. They’re a neo-luddite movement turned terrorist group that are upset with the way the Sol Federation is trying to fix Earth, stating that humans are the one that pushed it into this state, they should leave it to die and die along with it. Akane Shirogane was their worst nightmare. Cross the Line fits because, well, they crossed the line when [spoiler beep] and they were happy about it. (And “human cause” comes into play later when they pick up anti-alien leanings)

(Cross the line, redefine, break away unbent, unafraid/Together we stand in the dark/Seeking the light and what is right, together we cross the line/Our journey will come to an end and then our human cause will be/Justified)

Who Will Save You Now here is about Sam, and the aftermath of Here to Save You, in addition to its referenced role in the main playlist

(Alone with this vision/Alone and blind/Go tell the world I'm still alive)

The Day the Earth Collapsed is exactly what it says on the tin.

(How much time has been elapsed/Since the day the earth collapsed?)

Dystopian Fiction is the title track for this part. With the events of The Day the Earth Collapsed, the Garrison and our heroes on Earth are at their lowest point. It really is a piece of dystopian fiction, between [spoiler] and [spoiler]. And also: “Nobody can shoot me down, not just yet” is about Adam bc Fuck Canon

(I'm a dead man/In the wasteland/I'm a soldier fighting for superstition/Under search lights/In the long nights/We've been written like dystopian fiction)

The Reckoning is the only one of its little subset that made it over here, because it’s the only one that references events from before its eponymous fic (both verses are Very Earth)

(We're all alone, walking in twilight/The night has been long and so many have fallen/Feel no remorse, light will be breaking/Our freedom is worth it all)

Filaments

Filaments is the least complete, mostly because it’s the ‘sequel series’ of sorts. I have ideas for it, but I still haven’t posted most of the major story beats from the main portion of Dark Matter, so I’ve been purposefully putting it on the backburner. I do have enough to write Carry Me Home and put some foreshadowing in other fics.

Dark Matter is here because, well. A) Title track, B) yes, it still has effects. It’s the overarching theme, after all. Filaments sort of has a subtitle itself, which is ‘The Undoing,’ after the other part of the lyric that the subtitle of the main playlist comes from. It’s about undoing a past mistake (that wasn’t obviously a mistake until much later) and reconciling the events of Your World Will Fail.

(I am the keeper/I am the secret/I am the answer/I am the end)

Filaments is the title track of this part. It’s... a little hard to explain why without giving away the entire plot (what little I have planned lol) but it’s about the connections between different parts of the universe, and some fall-out of Darker Matter/Other Worlds Than These.

(These glowing filaments/Conducting this enchanting/Sarcophagus that's holding us)

Starlight is, again, Adashi song, and this time the happy part

(Don't leave me lost here forever/I need your starlight and pull me through/Bring me back to you)

Carry Me Home is what I’m in the process of writing right now, and it’s about the aftermath of the Quintessence War, specifically about how Shiro decides to settle down on Earth and what he does to build himself a home.

(Carry me home to the morning light/carry me home before you wave me goodbye/Oh, carry me home...)

#i am dark matter; your road to ruin #wow it's 2am #i spent like three hours on this #playlist #enjoy the spotify links #i really did not realize just how much I've added to the playlist this year #it's abyss's fault #i just. really love the playlist #it is my masterpiece #my brother makes fun of me for this but like #you DON'T make super complicated playlists for stories??#i reiterate i really really love this thing #anyway i should. sleep #i mean the semester is over i cn stay up till two but that doesn't mean it's wise #can't wait for me to finally post everything so i can gush about the playlist without smatterings of [REDACTED] tags when it shows up #DM Playlists

4 notes · View notes

queennicoleinboots · 4 years ago

Text

Bear Business, part 2 (Joebear POV)

I growled with authority and was eating a large barbecue chicken leg. I wore a crown that Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing and my wife honored me with. Xara, my beautiful wife, walked in the woods naked.

She was..... sexxxxxaaaayyyy!!

Zombies were walking behind her and checking out her butt.

I wasn't having that, so I stood up and pointed my butt in their general direction. I broke wind, and they disintregrated. My ass is the answer to the zombie apocalypse.

I AM the only bear allowed to make love to her temple for now on. She is my wife, and I am her husband, which means protector.

I shall always protect my wife from stupid bullshit.

"Bae Whuhh!!!!" she shouted. "Join me."

"JOIN US, BAE WHUHHH!!!" more zombies shouted as they appeared in the swamp.

Xara and the zombies then danced to seriously spicy salsa music.

Lord, give me strength! Mexico has come to the swamp. Ugggghhhhh!!!! I thought this was America. Pretty soon, it is going to be a property of China, but why Mexican music and Mexican zombies right now? My fat ass was not ready to dance to seriously spicy salsa. I was taking a shit that thwarted the zombies. Even flies thought it was stank.

Our young black and white cat named Miss Oreo came storming into the swamp. She always had energy. Kissy, our female orange cat that grew to be twice the size she was months ago, followed Miss Oreo. Garfield's soul had just left his body to be with the Father a week ago. Kissy, Xara, and I miss him more than words can describe.

Macrula screamed and brought more humidity upon us. A wall of rain fell from the sky. I guess he knew our pain, too. Angels sense things.

"Hoowoo Bae Whuhh you sexy!" Xara said. At that moment, she started her period. She had swamp vagina. She needed business more than ever. "BAE WHUHH!!! I NEED BUSINESS BAEWHUHH!!!" She was also crying because she missed Garfield. I will provide business when my sadness subsides. I love my wife, but I need to mourn the loss of my boy. It was time for bed.

"Kissy! Kissy!" I called in a low melodic voice. "I need you, Kissy Kissy."

Kissy ran over here to lay with me. My eyes glossed over, and my vision turned watery. I couldn't see, so I closed my eyes and cried.

I called, "Bae! Come lay with me!" My voice was shaky.

Xara laid with me. A barbeque chicken pizza fell out of the sky. She and I ate pizza together.

Count Macula, Jr. walked over to us while he was eating pizza. He was still a forever young white cub. Apparently, he was also in a freezer.

The Apparently Kid from YouTube yelled "APPARENTLY" before the remaining cast of PeeWee Herman shouted while wearing zombie masks. Apparently, a mask doesn't protect you from a zombie virus.

A YouTube ad was shown on one of the trees in the swamp. The narrator's voice boomed, "COMING SOON, A STORY THAT WILL WARM YOUR HEART, RATTLE YOUR BRAIN, AND SEND YOU IN ANOTHER DIMENSION. DISNEY'S NEW FILM: COUNT MACULA, JR. CLIMBS A WINTERY MOUNTAIN IN TRANSYLVANIA TO FIND HIS FAMILY THAT HAD BEEN ABDUCTED BY THE FBI. HE FINDS MANY FRIENDS ALONG THE WAY, AND THEY CLIMB A MOUNTAIN TOGETHER AND FORM A BOND LIKE NO OTHER. WHAT DO THEY FIND? ONLY THE FBI KNOWS."

I growled vehemently at the screen.

The video shows the title: FROZEN: COUNT MACULA, JR.'S SAGA.

The narrator continued, "COMING TO A THEATRE NEAR YOU. Youcanonlyenterthetheatreifyouhave receivedtheCoronavirusvaccine."

The ad stopped playing.

"The FBI knows my life story. The FBI knows my life story. The FBI knows my life story. The FBI knows my life story. The FBI knows my life story. The FBI knows my life story. The FBI knows my life story. The FBI knows my life story. The FBI knows my life story," Count Macula, Jr. said in his high-pitched Southern accent as he sat down and ate his pizza. "I didn't take the vaccine, so I am not making a dime off of it. They're a bunch of crooks in the Beast system. They will go to Hell for this. They will go to Hell for this. They will go to Hell for this. They will go to Hell for this. They will go to Hell for this. They will go to Hell for this. They will go to Hell for this. They will go to Hell for this."

Peter was also eating pizza, but he was also watching the cartoon movie, Animal Farm, based on the novel by George Orwell. His eyes were wide as they stared at the monitor in a large oak tree.

Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing and Megara were also eating pizza. They had three female cubs. He sang opera as entertainment for dinner. I sang with him because my body was ready.

Paul the Goat rode Hollywood while they both ate pizza.

Kissy then ate Xara's pizza crust and meowed as though she were a wind-up toy. It was the longest and most beautiful meow I had ever heard. She was something.

Macrula descended from the Heavens with a sense of urgency. He looked like a black and red bullet coming down at the swamp.

Count Macula, Jr. blinked as he looked at him and took a bite of his pizza. "Apparently we have entered Heaven. This pizza tastes like Heaven. Excuse me. I have a cub call to make. I have a cub call to make. I have a cub call to make. I have a cub call to make. I have a cub call to make. I have a cub call to make. I have a cub call to make. I have a cub call to make," he spoke before he growled a great cub growl eight times.

Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing did some vocal exercises before he, too, joined in bear chorus.

I growled in bear chorus before Miss Oreo stole a bite of pizza from me. "OREO, lay down!" I growled at her. Miss Oreo stared at me before she continued to chew. That girl made us crazy sometimes.

Paul the Goat bleated before Hollywood neighed loudly.

Peter turned away from the scene with the small pig shifting his eyes rapidly, and he started to bleat before he looked up at Macrula and asked, "Who the hell are you?"

Macrula spoke with vigor, "I am Macrula, a dark angel with regrets, angel wings of redemption, and have traveled across many planes of existence. A cat called upon me. What shall she have me do?"

I have a boner. I could not describe how much I wanted to pull Xara's long brown straight hair and use it as a handle to yank her pussy back and forth on my cock. DAAYUMN!!!!!

Kissy looked at Miss Oreo. Miss Oreo looked at Kissy. They were confused cats.

Macrula spoke again, "I heard a cat that sounded like a wind-up toy."

Kissy looked at him and meowed again. "Sorry about that. I was excited about pizza crust. When I eat pizza crust, I'm in heaven. Thank you for coming."

"You are most welcome, cat of great beauty," he said. Yes, Kissy was a beautiful cat. "What shall you have me do for you?"

"Well, we are having a great swamp party, despite the fact that the swaaaamp is completely dissemated," Kissy said as she meowed.

Pauno, a Greek God with green eyes and black curly-hair and Kendrick, Peter's ex-girlfriend and Pauno's current wife, also wandered in the swamp. They also were eating pizza.

Peter smirked awkwardly and looked back at the movie as he hunched his shoulders. "Siiiiiiiighhhhhh. Who invited them?" he mumbled and shrugged as he stared at the monitor intently.

"Peter?!" Kendrick said as she sat near him to watch the movie with him. "I didn't know you liked Animal Farm! It's one of my favorite dystopian movies ever." She ate a bite of pizza.

Peter sighed and looked over to Kendrick before he spoke, "It seems appropriate. After all, we are living in dystopian times. Communism is becoming a thing." He sighed and rolled his eyes. "I don't even recognize this country anymore."

The swamp bubbled up before a woman with long red hair like Jessica Rabbit in Who Framed Roger Rabbit started crawling from the large puddle in the middle of said swamp. She was covered in mud and leaves. She looked familiar. She looked like a mud-covered Poison Ivy from the DC Comics. She then went over and hugged Peter around his waist. At least she defied the social distancing laws that were in place by Biden's rule.

Of course we all know that Biden isn't actually the one in charge. He answers to the Illuminati, a bunch of Reptilian elites who rule the world under Satan's law.

"Hey, Peter," the Poison Ivy cosplayer in mud said as she kissed the left side of Peter's neck.

Peter smiled and put his long fingers around those of the woman. "Oh hey, Jessica. Why the hell did you emerge from the mud?"

I then growled a great bear growl with force before announcing, "That's great, Jessica Rabbit! Now if you excuse me, I need to lick ass." I jumped up and mauled Xara before putting my head in her ass.

"BAE WHUHH!!!!" Xara shouted as she shook her divine booty and did the backfat dance in front of everyone. She still was bleeding like a stuffed pig. Xara's ass is the best form of meat. All it needs is bear white sauce with extra honey, if you know what I mean.

I growled in her rear end before I stuffed my tongue deep into her ass and started to lick as though it were a honey hive. Her cbocolate was dee-dee-deelicious. Lucky Charms had nothing on this.

Macrula laughed a hearty laugh before he addressed Kissy. "I am not going to lick your cat ass if that's what you are implying."

I hope not. Please don't lick cat ass. That's disturbing.

Kissy looked at Macrula in confusion before she meowed again. "No. I definitely did not call you for that. I simply meowed out of enjoying pizza crust," she said.

We went down the swamp drain in a clockwise direction because we were in North America.

--------------------------------------------------

There were pictures of Xara all around this mansion. I was in some of the photos. Other photos had late Oreo, Sr., late Garfield, Kissy, and Miss Oreo. There was one photo that all of us together. That's strange. Oreo, Sr. passed away before Miss Oreo was born.

At that moment, I realized I wasn't in reality. I was located in Xara's mind. And I was floating. I heard echoing voices in the distant saying "BaeWhuhh."

"Baebae!" I shouted quickly. My penis was as hard as a diamond. Then the head of my penis turned into a diamond with a slit in it. I burped.

Our cats and four other people were floating with me.

Jessica Rabbit, an actual white rabbit with red flowing hair on top of her head was in Xara's mind with me.

"Where are we?" she asked me.

"In my wife's mind," I said as I started to rub my diamond head against the wall of Xara's brain. I growled like the King Bear I was. My growl echoed throughout her head. It felt so good. I growled louder, and the world started to shake.

....

My diamond head exploded and popped off of my penis. I heard it clank at the bottom of Xara's intestine. That felt nice! My honey spurted.

"Where am I going?!" Jessica Rabbit called loudly as she got caught in the river of my bear juice.

"I don't I don't know," I called.

A large female angel with white wings, straight brown hair, and blue eyes flew around and was drinking my flowing bear juice. Xara was floating with me and beating my bear butt. There was another angelic woman who had red hair, green eyes, and a few freckles on her face.

"Excuse me. I am going to be expelled in 30 seconds. I have a therapy appointment in Xara's bottom. Do you mind, sir?" Jessica Rabbit asked.

I flew to the top of Xara's mind, but my eyes remained on Jessica Rabbit. Xara farted loudly. The sound of that tuba made my ears bleed.

"Owwwww! My ears!" I shouted. I sighed. "Oh my!!!"

Xara pooped loudly and expelled Jessica Rabbit into the toilet that she was sitting on.

"May I have ice cream?" I asked.

Xara then manifested Rocky Road ice cream and gave us both bowls. Kissy and Miss Oreo were licking from the fountain of ice cream that flowed in the middle of Xara's brain.

"There isn't enough ice cream to satisfy me!" I shouted.

Xara then formed a mountain of ice cream that cosumed me. And then I consumed the ice cream.

"You grab the ice cream and take the ice cream if you want it," Xara said. "BaeBaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Baeabaaaaaaaaaeeee heyheyheyhey!!!"

Truer words have never been spoken.

"Thank you," I said as I shot cum in her mouth.

Xara held me in an embrace of tree vines that came from the walls of her mind. She wrapped them around my legs, groin, and chest.

Miss Oreo laid next to her. She pet that kitten with her fingertips. Kissy floated on Xara's head.

I floated down to Xara's asshole and growled loudly as my tongue licked wonders inside of her anus. "I am the easiest person to get along with. I'm a passionate bear. I love you," I said.

"Ooh hoo Bae!!!!!" Xara shouted in excitement.

"You are wonderful. I love you, too, boo," I said.

Macrula and the redheaded angel with green eyes sang an angelic duet of Michael Jackson's "I Just Can't Stop Loving You" to celebrate our love.

Macrula started singing, "Each time the wind blows,I hear your voice so.

I call your name

Whispers at morning

Our love is dawning

Heaven's glad you came."

Xara, Macrula, the redheaded angel, the brown-haired angel, and I were transferred to Heaven.

Macrula continued to sing. "You know how I feel. This thing can't go wrong. I'm so proud to say I love yoooouuuuu. Your love's got me high. I long to get by. This time is forever. Love is the answer!"

The redheaded angel began to sing, "I hear your voice now. You are my choice now.

The love you bring

Heaven's in my heart.

At your call, I hear harps

And angels sing!

You know how I feel

This thing can't go wrong

I can't live my life without you!"

Macrula then sang again, "I just can't hold on! I feel we belong!

My life ain't worth living

If I can't be with you!"

Disco lights shown down at the three angels.

The brownhaired angel, Macrula, and the redheaded angel started to line dance and sing.

"I just can't stop loving you!

I just can't stop loving you!"

They stood up straight, planted their feet firmly on the large cloud between them, and stuck their right arms out in front of them with their palms flat in a "stop sign" formation.

"And if I stop!" they sang. Then they dramatically put their palms to their heart and swayed in the wind as they sang this next line, "Then tell me just what will I dooooooo!!!"

Then Macrula stepped out of the line and sang, "I just can't stop. Loving you."

Music played.

Macrula continued to sing, "At night when the stars shine

I pray in you I'll find

A love so true."

The redheaded angel sang, "When morning awakes me. Will you come and take me?

I'll wait for you."

Macrula sang, "You know how I feel. I won't stop until I hear your voice saying

'I do.'"

The redheaded angel sang, "I do!"

Then all the angels sang, "This thing can't go wrong. This feeling's so strong. Well, my life ain't worth living

If I can't be with you!"

Music played for a second before they sang again, "I just can't stop loving you!

I just can't stop loving you!"

They stood up straight, planted their feet firmly on the large cloud between them, and stuck their right arms out in front of them with their palms flat in a "stop sign" formation.

"And if I stop!" they sang. Then they dramatically put their palms to their heart and swayed in the wind as they sang this next line, "Then tell me just what will I dooooooo!!!"

Macrula stepped out of the line and sang, "I just can't stop loving you."

Music played.

"We can change all the world tomorrow," Macrula sang.

"We can sing songs of yesterday!" the brown-haired angel sang.

"I can say, 'Hey farewell' to sorrow," the redheaded angel sang.

"This is my life and I want to see you for always!" all three angels sang. "I just can't stop loving you!"

The female angels sang vibratto for a second.

"I just can't stop loving you!" Macrula sang loudly.

"If I can't stop!" the female angels sang.

0 notes