#lillie (mtl oc)

[normanblowup]

Hardly Living & Not-Yet Dead Pt. 2

MTL OC Lillie Ann x Charles Offdensen

Summary: Lillie is not the only one of the pair hiding a dark truth, Charles grows fonder of his favorite author.

Warnings: 18+ NSFT, darkish content, stalking, voyeurism, masturbation, paranoia-inducing, hallucinations, nightmares, and break-ins. Charles is a nasty, nasty man. also pov changes when it’s on Charles’s portion of the story, but goes back to first person for Lillies.

Words: 1,323

A/N: heyy!! i’m really sorry for being gone so long, i’m gonna try and write and draw more. this is what i have for right now, i hope you like it!!

—

Charles steps out of the bookstore, holding the newly signed copy of his favorite Lillie Ann novel. His heart is pounding and he’s pretty sure his face is beat red, but the thrill of meeting the object of his desire keeps him from feeling embarrassed. A klokateer holds open the car door, Charles slides in and settles down.

As scenery passes by the window, Charles lets his mind wander. How would Lillie react if Charles asked him out? What would Lillie look like if Charles pinned him underneath himself? Charles contemplates this as he traces Lillies signature with his finger, delicate as ever so as to not ruin the autograph. His hands are shaking and his pulse is quickening, there's nothing more that he could want other than to have his love pinned down beneath his hands.

Charles shakes his head as Mordhaus comes into view. He puts an end to his foolish fantasies, realizing there’s no point in daydreaming about something that’ll never happen. Especially, with the role he plays in this world. He can’t stray from his boys, it would be catastrophic.

Charles’s dress shoes clack against the stone as he swiftly makes his way to his office. The door is locked, as always, and he steps in with a barely concealed fervor. Although he may not be able to have Lillie for himself, he can still watch him from afar— or rather from his laptop—right?

He pulls out the bottle of brandy from his desk drawer, he takes a swig before bending lower to grab his laptop. He recently had some klokateers install cameras in Lillies house, to make sure he wouldn’t get robbed or anything, of course! It could never be for personal reasons, Charles couldn’t allow that.

Charles pulls up the live footage. He drums his fingers on the wood of his desk, waiting impatiently for Lillie to appear at his own front door. He anxiously takes another drink of brandy and sets it to the side just as the handle of Lillies door is twisted.

The footage crackles as Lillie walks into his living room, seemingly batting away something that remains to be unseen. This isn’t new to Charles, he knows everything. Perhaps, the only thing he doesn’t know, is the reason why Lillie is plagued with visions. But he has no time to speculate as the blonde man sits down on his couch, rubbing his hands down his thighs and back up again.

Charles squints at his screen, aching to see more as Lillies head gently rests back against his couch. Charles has seen this before; again, he knows everything. He knows the little gasps Lillie makes when he touches himself for the first time in awhile, it’s not often that he gets a reprieve or even some time alone.

Lillies breathless voice can be heard through the shitty speakers of Charles’s laptop, and it’s now that Charles starts to hope that he locked his office door. But he doesn’t have time to get up and check, there’s no way in hell he’s going to miss this.

Lillies slender hand wriggles it’s way into his pants, rubbing himself through his underwear. Charles slowly leans back to do just the same. Charles doesn’t often have much time himself, but he can understand Lillies appreciation for foreplay. Lillie quickly undoes his pants, pulling them down half-way to let his member spring free. He’s not fairly large but he’s exactly what Charles needs.

Lillies fingers travel through the wiry hair around himself, gently rubbing at the base of his shaft as his other hand reaches slightly down to fondle his balls. Charles’s breath catches in his throat, he has the perfect angle to see Lillies hands rubbing and squeezing at himself. Charles grunts and rubs the leaking head of his cock, pulling it free from its confines just as Lillie had done.

Lillies wanton moans are echoing through Charles’s office, practically forcing groans and grunts to fall from Charles’s own mouth.

Charles almost feels guilty as Lillie suddenly goes rigid and cums rather fiercely into his own hand, sometimes he forgets that the other man is a virgin. Charles tries to hurry his own orgasm, to catch up with Lillie. Thankfully, Lillie continues to stroke himself even after he gets overstimulated. He whimpers and cries as Charles finally comes undone himself, watching as Lillie slows down and drag his fingers through the cum now staining his shirt and thighs.

Charles reached forward to grab a tissue to clean himself up, watching as all Lillie does is wobbly walk towards the bathroom for a shower. Another pang of guilt snaps it’s way through his heart, what would Lillie think if he knew Charles was watching him? Surely, he wouldn’t enjoy it, who would?

Charles decides to call it a night as he hears the quiet sound of Lillies shower turning on. He tucks himself back into his slacks and shuts off his laptop, feeling almost sorry for what he just did.

Though, he decides, there’s no harm in what Lillie doesn’t know.

He stands up, checks his suit for any stains (luckily, he cleans up well), and sets off outside his office. He heads up to the recording studio to check in on Dethkloks progress with the new album, those boys are starting to get on his last nerve.

—

I close my eyes as water droplets run down my face, I’ll have to do another set of laundry tonight it seems. As the water crashes down on my back, a creeping feeling slithers it’s way through my chest. I feel eyes on the back of my head, but no shadows to accompany them. That’s rather odd.

Often times after I finish a novel, I get some time to myself— no matter how brief— and I tend to consider them “vacations.” I grab a towel and head to my bedroom, flopping on the bed and thus beginning my vacation of sleep and sheets.

I drift off quickly, exhausted and worn down so completely. My dreams are filled with fire. There’s burning rocks and a river full of corpses, I row down it, watching as faces long past scream and cry in agony. They seem to call my name but it’s not one I recognize, I’m curled up against the back of the little wooden canoe I’ve found myself in and I cry out for help just as they do.

But if I’m the one they look to, who will come to save me?

My heart thumps and I start to fear it may burst out of my body, black inky hands writhe from the water and clutch at the sides of the boat, rocking it to and fro. They jostle me and cry out my name, they screech and holler and pound against the wood.

I jolt awake as a rather loud crash resounds from inside my kitchen. This isn’t a dream anymore, I realize as a cold sweat comes over me. I jump to action, hastily put on a pair of sweatpants and the baseball bat I keep besides my bed.

I creep out from the hallway, watching in the shadows as a rather large man in a black hood—strangely like the ones I saw at the bookstore today— rifles through my pots and pans.

My heart stops and everything goes silent as I gather my courage. I charge at the man and swing my bat as heavily as I can, and it’s not until I hear the most satisfying of sounds that I begin to calm down. The man’s skull cracks so loudly it practically deafens me, and he only stays upright for a few seconds before he flops to the floor.

I’m hasty as I call the police, and it’s not long before I’ve tied up the man for good measure and sit on my couch, just as I had earlier, to wait for the authorities to show.

[normanblowup]

Hardly Living & Not-Yet Dead

Mtl OC Lillie Ann x Charles Offdensen

Summary: Lillie finishes his newest novel, but the toll of the damned sits heavily on his shoulders. Charles meets his favorite author, oblivious to the dark truth behind his writing.

Warnings: paranoia-inducing, suicidal ideation, hallucinations/unreality, Lillie is quite the pessimist, he's also incredibly dramatic.

Words: 1,042

A/n: thanks to @aggravatetheaxe for proof reading/editing!! it means a lot to me :) also if you’d like this to be a series pls tell me!!

—

The words in my head swirl and foam at the mouth, eating away at my skull and pulling me further into myself. There's no stopping me as pages upon pages are written and set aside. The black, smokey hands grab at my collar, my sleeves, and my neck.

They bind me to this chair, to these dreams and stories waiting to be told. My heart is pounding so hard I can’t tell when one beat stops and another starts. I hear floorboards creak and dust settle on the window sill. I can’t feel when my fingers start to bleed; ever-persistent, I continue pressing them down with fervent intent.

The shadow's eyes burn holes into my head, bring chills up my spine, and make the wind blow outside. They stare with contempt, waiting for my deft hands to finish their long-dead story. They’ve been waiting so long, so impatiently for someone to remember them.

Sometimes, I think maybe they’re real. Maybe these voices, voices connected to hands and eyes, maybe they really are in the room with me. Maybe they’re possessing me. Using me as a tool, a tool to be used and forgotten. I bring them peace when they otherwise would have never known it, these poor souls.

They scream and cry as my hand pulls the carriage return one last time. The souls wither in glee and fade from my sight. I fall back into my chair and clutch my chest. I start to fear that my breath might never return. As I look outside, I see the sun start to rise over the hills. I’ve finally completed my next novel. A novel of a man lost at sea, waiting for the ocean to swallow him whole.

My assistant knocks at the door of my office. I can hear his small, veiny little hands shaking as he does so. His heart beats wildly. He knows how long I've been holed up here, and if he were to interrupt my writing process, I’d have no choice but to fire him. I call out to him with my newly found breath. “Come in,” I say.

His wide eyes meet my hectic gaze as he steps into the pitch-black room lit only by the evergrowing sun. My feral look must stun him; he gasps but quickly covers it while clearing his throat.

“Mr. Ann, your book signing is today, at noon. I-Is there anything you might need before then? Some food or … or maybe a hairdresser?” He laughs lightly, but I can only glance at him with empty, hollow eyes.

“I can take care of myself,” I mutter, standing to my full height. Although that is a mere four feet and eleven inches, the man before me still cowers in shame and shrinks back into the hallway. “I'll be there.”

The day wears on and my heart grows ever weary. I feel as though there's nothing left of me, that the only time I am alive is when I write. I cannot continue for much longer. There's no room left in my head for living. There's nothing but darkness swirling in my heart, and I fear one day it will all come spilling out.

I open the door to the minuscule, quaint bookshop that I’ll be rotting in for the next hour or two. It smells of old paper and books dying to be read but only left sitting on shelves to waste away—as I do now, sitting behind a table, clutching a Sharpie in my right hand and waiting for some middle-aged woman to come up and say her son loves my novels. If only he knew just where they come from, maybe he wouldn't meddle with such dark forces.

After an hour or two, a man in a black suit walks up. His step is graceful and full of tact; there's a black, luxurious car waiting for him outside the front door. He hands me a book of mine. It's a copy he's unmistakably loved for quite some time. The pages are lightly frayed, not from improper care but from being read so very often. The man's tie is a bloody cherry red, and his warmed cheeks almost rival the color. His gentle, skillful hands touch the hardcover book with reverence.

He clears his throat. “I, uh, would deeply enjoy it if you made this out to a—um, Charles Foster Offdensen. I've, uh, been reading your books for quite some time. I don't often have very much free time, but your writing flows so, uh, gracefully that I just can't ever seem to put them down.” He reaches up and straightens out his tie.

I thank him quietly, but I can't help myself from wondering just what this man does for a living. There are guards in hoods standing outside the car.

The other patrons in the store are staring at the car with awe, so I assume maybe he's some sort of celebrity. I don't get out very often, and I sure as hell don't watch TV.

As I sign my name and hand the book back to him, his eyes catch mine. He looks at me in such a peculiar way that it freezes me to my core. His hazel eyes are full of fire and determination. I can feel the creeping shadows of souls long past. They whisper to me of a prophecy—a prophecy of a man, a Dead Man, with such a heavy burden. I can't look at him much longer. He seems almost disappointed.

He turns and leaves through the glass front door, and I am suddenly so alone. It was like the room was caving in on me and him, like there was nothing else.

Like I was finally alive.

Watching as he drives away, I stand, and for a few moments I'm a normal man. There is no one talking to me, no one whispering stories and legends in my ear. No black shadowy tendrils creeping along my neck.

As I wonder what could've possibly been hiding behind those hazel eyes, I'm at peace.

[normanblowup]

they’re defending him :)

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lillie based on this drawing of charon, to go with that last ask!

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a comic based on that last drawing of lillie..

now i don’t have a full story/explanation but my basic idea is that (going along with the dethklok being gods thing) he’s supposed to be the person who brings people to the underworld, and he has visions of the spirits trapped in the underworld (which he then uses those stories and ideas for his novels because he believes them to be just dreams/hallucinations)

i’m not sure if it makes much sense in canon but i think it sounds sort of cool lol

[normanblowup]

millie based on this statue of aphrodite (i chose aphrodite instead of cupid cus.. cupids a little baby man) to go with that last ask!

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“His eyes burn as he looks out into the infinite void. The waking world so far away as he claws at the skin that binds him. There is no escape, no solace. His mind calls out ‘help me, help me, help me.’”

when ur plagued by the images and dreams of the creatures invading ur psyche 🤪

[normanblowup]

you’ve made the shy horror novelist that you have a crush on drop his manuscript!! (you are charles foster offdensen)

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they’re talking about lillie’s newest book <3

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stage fright 😬

i think in the beginning, doing huge concerts was incredibly daunting for millie, this is probably the first time she’s performed in front of such a big audience and she’s more used to small crowds at that point

[normanblowup]

could u draw some millie and lillie, please? i like them. ❤️

look out lillie! oh no, he can’t hear us! he doesn’t have his hearing aids on!!

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here’s lillie using the same artbreeder thing!!

i used the same artbreeder pic for them because they’re twins and have similar features

[normanblowup]

tried out that artbreeder trick! idk how good it is lol but i like it.. it’s millie!!

artbreeder under the cut

[normanblowup]

when ur sister and ur boyfriend invite themselves to one of ur books signings… #embarrassing

i am not consistent with faces… i generally don’t think about peoples faces so it’s hard to draw them 😔

[normanblowup]

here’s some millie!!

[normanblowup]

I think I remember you mentioned that Lillie had some relation with the underworld and Millie with love. That's super interesting! How does that connection work? How do they find out?

OOOOHHHH!! ok here i go lol i don’t think there’s a proper reason as to why they have these powers like in the grand scheme of metalocalypse, i think they’re just things they’re afflicted with without purpose (because my brain isn’t big enough to come up with a reason pfffft)

Lillie: (artwork to go with this)

ok i don’t really have an explanation as to why yet (like story wise) but i think lillie is sort of like…. the reincarnation of Charon the boat driver for the river styx in the underworld who guided dead souls into hell basically. i think it would be sort of his own version, but the thing is hell is different now like it has a different way of doing things so they didn’t need him anymore, so he got like reincarnated into a human man.

but the souls of the damned are still connected to him, and he thinks they’re nightmares/hallucinations but it’s actually more like visions/glimpses of the past (like serious past, like before time and shit**) that the dead people are sort of like whispering to him. they do this because when he worked in the underworld, he was probably the only person to comfort them i believe. he ushered them in, he was the first face they saw when they died and were put to eternal damnation, so they like him more than anyone else. but he’s not in hell anymore, so they have to reach out to him to tell him the stories they used to tell him.

which sucks for him cus it’s terrifying. i don’t think he ever properly “finds out” and i don’t think millie does either about her own powers, but i think after awhile they start to get suspicious. like lillie will get told a story by fucking william shakespeare in his bed at 2 in the morning and he’ll be like.. ok what?

**like some serious eldritch horror shit, but he also gets people from medieval times, and other historical periods. sometimes he’ll even get someone who died recently and has been told by the other souls or something that lillie’s sort of the go-to guy.

Millie: (artwork to go with this)

I think with millie it’s much less, like creepy and more just sad for her. i think she’s sort of a cupid character who has love surrounding her and anyone who meets her will meet their soulmate through her. but she never meets her own. (well until dick but—)

so like if you’re a featured artist on one of her songs and you go to meet up with her, you’ll be just talking with her having a good time and then you’ll look over at one of the sound technicians and it’s like your whole life flashed before your eyes and your suddenly like omg, that’s the one. and millie will have to stand by and watch the adoration in your eyes and weep over the fact that that look is never pointed at her.

she knows that it happens, like it’s been something she’s dealt with ever since she was a kid. i think when she was hanging out with pickles when she was younger there was probably a time she had a small crush on him, but he eventually found some other girl who he seemed to like better. every single time millie thought she had feelings for him, fate would swoop in and introduce a new girl. so she sort of gave up on the front, she doesn’t have feelings for him now. (her feelings for him before weren’t really all that serious but it still hurt.)

she’s eventually to the point where she’s basically wallowing in self pity when dick knubbler becomes her producer. (a few years before he works for dethklok.) she meets him and she’s immediately enthralled by his awkward creepiness. like he asks her on a date and she freaks out in happiness, no one has asked her on a date in god knows when. especially not someone she had feelings for.

and he sort of becomes the end to it, like her powers are much more subdued now that she has someone to give all her love to. they don’t go away altogether, but it’s much less obvious now especially since she doesn’t pay attention to it anymore.