#you can put me in front of any instrument and i'll pick it up instantly

[catwithaknife]

i started learning drums today and i can now play every bit of boulevard of broken dreams, but not all together yet. hopefully i'll be able to do it tomorrow

[wondersofdreaming]

Keepsake

Characters: Captain Syverson x female reader (3rd person)

Word count: 1.827

Warnings: Death, loss, hopelessness, light cursing, sadness, melancholy, grief, heartache, mourning.

Author’s note: This story was inspired by the song 'Everglow' by Coldplay.

Do me a favour and listen to the song, while reading this, I'll link to the different versions, depending on your mood.

Everglow (original) by Coldplay

Everglow (acoustic) by Coldplay

Everglow (instrumental) by Alexandre Pachabezian

The links are for Spotify, if they don't work try this link for YouTube

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the wife, son and Elijah Reed, who are figments of my imagination.

A massive, MASSIVE, thank you to my beloved angel, @radaofrivia, for giving me the idea from just a few thoughts, for sitting through with me while I wrote this, for giving me advice and for just being there.

Please check out her stories right here: RADA'S MASTERLIST

MY MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated.

(Young Syverson, picture credit to @killjoy-assbutt-1112 - find it here)

Oh, they say people come Say people go This particular diamond was extra special And though you might be gone And the world may not know Still I see you, celestial

Lyrics are from Everglow by Coldplay.

The looming grey clouds were moving closer towards him. He could hear the distant sounds of the rumbling thunder. Before long it started to rain and lightning lit up the entire house. The dirt road was flooded in no time, giving the crops the liquid nourishment they needed.

The former army captain was restless. It was on days like these he missed him, more than anything else in the world. He couldn’t sit still and had planned on working on the house, but the coming storm was putting a stop to that. Instead, he sat on the porch swing he built with Elijah when Lucas bought the house.

The Syversons had moved to their farm when Lucas was 4. A few days into the move, their neighbours had stopped by with some casserole, and to welcome them to their community. Mr and Mrs Reed also had a son who was a few months younger than Luc. Elijah had hidden behind his mother’s leg, a little shy, but with some encouragement he greeted Lucas.

“I’m Lucas, but my baby sister can’t say it yet, she keeps babbling Luc, so if it’s easier, you can call me Luc too.”

“I’m Elijah.”

Sy remembered he was trying so hard to pronounce his new friend’s name. He smiled at the memory, the name had been permanent in Lucas’ mind, only using Elijah, when he was mad at him or thinking he was about to do something stupid, which he did often.

“Lija, wanna play?” Lucas asked awkwardly.

“What?” Elijah looked profoundly confused. “I… don’t know.”

“Go on, son. It’s okay,” Mr Reed tried to encourage him.

“Come with me, Lija. I wanna show ya somethin’.”

Lucas had shown Elijah his new toy tractor that his parents had given him for his birthday. The two young boys had played together, and before long were inseparable.

A round yellow object in the palm of his hand. He was fiddling with it. The coin was always in his pocket, so he could keep his best friend close to him at all times. It was an old arcade coin that you could plot into any machine and play one game.

The two best friends had each gotten a dollar’s worth of coins, but the man at the ticket booth had miscounted, so Sy had gotten an extra coin, which the two friends had fought over during their time in the arcade. Lucas being the protector he was, lost to Elijah on purpose, so his friend won the coin.

“I’ll savour it, it’s going to be my lucky coin!” Elijah has announced.

Syverson swung the porch swing with his booted foot. He stared at the coin, wondering why he had been the lucky one. Luc shook his head faintly, his face full of pain and sorrow.

The coin became a thing that decided their fate. When the boys couldn’t agree on something, they would flip the coin. The picture side was heads and the text ‘No cash value’ side was tails. It might have been worth nothing, but it was a priceless item to the two friends.

“Heads: I ask her on a date, tails: you ask her,” Elijah flipped the yellow coin and covered the back of his hand as it landed. The two teenagers looked over at the brunette cheerleader, who was laughing with her friends. Prom was upon them and they both wanted to ask her. Elijah lifted his hand, it was heads.

The dumb coin was always on Elijah’s side. Lucas let out a soft laughter of the memory. Elijah’s face had been priceless, Sy wished he had taken a picture of it. It had been Elijah’s first kiss that night.

When Lucas decided to enlist, Elijah followed him, even with a lot of arguing against it from Sy’s side. He didn’t want his best friend anywhere near a warzone but in the end, he was glad that Lija was there with him through every hardship during training, when they lost people on their team, when they had to carry the dead back to base, it was better to have a friend by your side and share the pain with.

It didn’t take Syverson long to rank up and become captain. He ended up leading a large group of soldiers in a village in Iraq, with Elijah as his lieutenant, he felt like he could conquer the world.

During one of their trips home, Sy had bought a house he wanted to renovate, maybe start a family in. Elijah had spent every moment he could, helping Lucas with the house. It had made them closer as friends, and they had heartfelt talks about their future. Elijah wanted to come home and help his ailing parents with the farm, maybe get into breeding horses, preferably racehorses. Sy hadn’t thought of his future in that sense by then. He just wanted to relax, drink beer and ride his motorcycle.

There was hardly a moment in Lucas’ life where Elijah wasn’t a part of it. Elijah was his best friend, and if he had to be a little girly, they were BFFs. His best friend’s presence had made every moment special, made them better. It was the hardest part, to not have Elijah by his side anymore. He missed Elijah’s silly, huge and sometimes irritating grin, which somehow made the world seem a bit brighter during the dark times. Elijah made his life easier… he just made it better to have a friend to share everything with.

His heart had broken in a million pieces when the building collapsed on top of his best mate.

“Captain, we need a scouting team. I’m taking three soldiers towards those buildings and see if there are enemies up ahead,” Elijah had suggested.

“Lieutenant, I make the orders here. I’m going,” Lucas commanded.

“Heads or tails, Luc,” Elijah picked out the coin from his breast pocket.

“This is no time for such thing, Lija,” the captain grumbled.

“This is the perfect time, Luc. We promised that whenever we couldn’t agree on something, we would use the coin. So, heads or tails, captain Syverson.”

“Heads.”

The coin had landed on the tails side. Lucas had cursed the coin, fuck, shit, crap, dammit!

“It’s my turn to protect you, Luc. I’m not the scrawny little kid anymore, let me show you!”

Elijah had gathered three soldiers and run between two concrete buildings with a big smile on his face. Sy would never forget the smile. It was a grin of pride and determination. And it was the last time Lucas would ever see his best friend.

Moments later a huge explosion shook the ground they were standing on. Sy watched with horror as the buildings collapsed, trapping Elijah and his team. What they didn’t know then was that the impact with the concrete walls had killed him instantly.

The rest of the soldiers watched as their captain went on his knees. Utter despair and anguish plastered on his face, tears about to escape the corners of his eyes. The usual strict army captain, the man with the muscles, the tough guy who could break you with a stare, was breaking down.

“Lija…” he whispered into the dust-filled space, his voice breathless like somebody knocked the air out of his lungs.

At night he had screamed in pain of the loss of his most beloved friend. His days were filled with hopelessness as he prepared to fly home with Elijah’s corpse in a coffin. The nights only brought nightmares, so he started writing a letter to his best friend and thinking of how to tell Elijah’s parents.

“Dear Lija. I can’t believe you’re… Shit, I can’t even write the word. Just a four-letter word, and yet I can’t fucking write it down on a piece of paper. I wish I could have taken your place, man. It should have been me. I hate you for forcing me to pick a side on that stupid coin. I hate you for being so brave. I hate you for wanting to protect me. Fuck you for dying. Fuck you for leaving me. Here. All alone. What about your parents? How am I going to tell them that you’re… how am I going to face them? You are and will always be my best friend. I wish you could go back to your parent’s farm on your own two legs, not in a fucking box. I miss you, Lija. You’re the closest thing to a brother I will ever get. So rest in peace and keep the seat next to you warm, I’ll see you on the other side. - Luc.”

Lucas had sneaked the letter into Elijah’s breast pocket of his uniform before they had shut the coffin. The coin that Elijah had on him, had been put in a plastic bag with the rest of his belongings, prepped to be given to his next of kin, his parents. But Lucas took the yellow token. He needed a memento to remember his best friend by, something that he could keep with him always. A keepsake.

It had taken every ounce of courage for Lucas to step up to the front door of the Reed’s farmhouse. A house he was so familiar with and had so many adventurous sleepovers in Elijah’s space-themed bedroom. He could smell Mrs Reed’s famous peanut brittle, making it harder for him to knock, but he did it anyway. Standing there in his military uniform, he told the two people, who had acted as a second set of parents to him, that their only son had died heroically in battle. Lucas stood frozen, watching them mourn the loss of their son. He was about to step away to give them space, but Mrs Reed grabbed his wrist and brought him into the hug.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect him,” he pleaded, his voice breaking slightly.

“Was he in pain?” Mrs Reed asked, breaking Lucas’ heart all over again.

“No, ma’am. It happened really fast.”

Sy fiddled with the arcade coin. Having zoned out the thunder, not noticing the storm had come and gone. The sun was slowly setting on the horizon. It was a peaceful ending to an emotional day.

A loud wailing came from inside the house. The front door opened and out came his beautiful wife with their young son in her arms. His face was stained in tears. The tiny boy reached towards his father the minute he saw him. In his father’s arms was the only place the boy was happy and content. Sy’s face broke into a happy grin at the sight of his son. His tiny fingers trying to grab the coin in the former captain’s hand.

“This,” Sy showed it to his son, “will be yours when you’re old enough not to eat it.”

He chuckled at the frustrated look on the boy’s face. Sy kissed the top of his son’s head.

“I love you, Elijah.”

[nekomapi]

chp 1 🎶 a light in your eyes that keeps shining

Shouto stared at the keys in front of him; the black and white rectangles blurred together as he spaced out. He had been running this piece all afternoon and he couldn't be more bored with it if he tried. Each time sounded just as good as the last, but he kept on practicing- leaving no room for the possibility of error. Less errors meant less scolding from his father.

His instructor didn't have any clients this afternoon and told him he could use the piano for as long as he wanted. He took lessons here twice a week when his father had other obligations and couldn't supervise, which also meant he never had much time for himself. Luckily, these two days were such a breath of fresh air from the usual routine that he always looked forward to them.

He let out a heavy sigh as he stretched his fingers and his arms. It was so peaceful; the warm sunlight pouring through the windows, golden hues illuminating the shiny surface of the grand piano. The whole room bathed in incredible warmth, something his house felt completely devoid of.

He couldn't remember how long he had been sitting there, but it felt like hours. He yawned as he glanced at the clock, his eyes slowly trailing over to the mahogany drum set that stared at him from the corner of the room. He had looked at it longingly for about 6 months, ever since he started his lessons here. There were so many different components and they seemed so complex, like a different world he was unaware of.

His curiosity itched to no end and he finally gathered the courage to walk over to it, grazing the drumhead with his fingers as he sat on the stool. His teacher had gone on an errand and he knew she wouldn't be back for a little while. Picking up the black wooden drumsticks, he started tapping gently on each piece to test the different noises they each made. After a few minutes of self-containment, he couldn’t help but let loose. He banged the different sized drums, smashed the symbols and kicked the bass pedal intermittently, with no direction and no sheet music to follow along with. It was the most exhilarated he had felt in a long time. He played with such enthusiasm that sweat started to accumulate on his brow as he lashed about without a care in the world. He didn't notice this rarity himself, but throughout his messy performance, his face was plastered with a playful grin. His focus shifted upwards as his eye caught a glimpse of a figure and he jumped up, almost tripping over the bass drum. A young girl was leaning in the doorway, her arms crossed and a smirk playing at her features. She couldn't help but find his clumsiness amusing.

Locking on her gaze, he instantly recognized her from the family photos on his teacher's desk. It was her daughter and he didn't know much about her, besides the few details she had mentioned to him in the past. Apparently she was exceptionally talented in multiple instruments and attended a very esteemed music academy in the city. The way she always beamed when she spoke of her, made it obvious how proud she was, and that shamefully always stung him. The only pride ever displayed from his father never felt out of love and his mother, well she was a different story.

"I... I'm sorry I uh...shouldn't have-"

She interrupted mid-sentence, holding up her hand and walking towards him, "Don't apologize! I'm the one who should apologize for startling you during your performance." She smiled and jokingly added," I'm going to guess that was your first time playing? If not, well then my mother might have lost her touch."

"That was the first time." He stood up straighter, trying to play off his embarrassment by transitioning into his usual stoic gaze. "I was just... curious is all."

"Ah. Well I have to say, you look good back there."

"Thanks," he mumbled, his cheeks feeling hot as he put down the drumsticks and started to back away from the drum set.

"Whoa, not so fast." She was at his side quickly and pushed him back towards the seat. He looked at her, confusion written on his face as he sat back down. She picked up the drumsticks, effortlessly twirling one around in her fingers. "Consider this your first lesson." Something about her made him feel at ease and he couldn't think of an excuse to refuse. He nodded in agreement and she grinned.

She didn't waste any time before naming each component and explaining the proper technique and form, including fixing the way he held the drumsticks. He admired how she spoke with such emotion, using her hands when trying to emphasize her opinion and the way her eyes lit up when she rambled on about what aspects she thought were the most important in order to be a good musician. It wasn't just her bright green eyes or that faint smell of gardenia that reminded him of her mother, but it was that burning passion towards music which was so evident in their words and motions. He longed to have that kind of burning emotion towards it as well. He soaked in every word, not wanting to forget a single thing she said--- or how her hair glistened against her smooth, freckled skin.

After going over the basics for about twenty minutes, she demonstrated a few basic drum beats. Once she ran through them a few times, she handed him back the drumsticks, gesturing for him to try. He followed her instruction, recreating the beat under her guidance. It wasn't hard for him to catch on. She stood back and watched as he seemed to effortlessly repeated the sample over and over, even adding in little changes while increasing the tempo each time. It was wildly impressive and after a few minutes, she spoke again. "Can I ask you something?'

"Go ahead," he responded, still focused on keeping a beat.

"Do you actually enjoy playing piano?"

He stopped and turned to face her. "What makes you ask that?"

"Well, I heard you playing Einaudi earlier, many times through I might add. And don’t get me wrong... you play wonderfully! Probably with some of the best form I've ever heard from someone our age. It's just... it sounded a bit— robotic, or like it wasn’t coming from the heart." She pushed herself off the wall and walked to the other side of the drum set. "Listening to you play just now, and before when I came in and interrupted you, something just feels different. It's like I could finally hear you in it."

"But you've only just met me..." he stated bluntly. "How could you know something like that?" There was no doubt that he was experiencing a bit of freedom in himself today, but her analysis suddenly had him feeling a little exposed and embarrassed. These unexpected emotions were new to him.

"I'm sorry... it was just a feeling I had. I didn't mean to pry." She fell silent for a moment, having felt slightly bad for how he reacted. She chuckled in hopes to lighten the mood. "I guess with that rad hair you just totally have that whole badass drummer vibe going on." She leaned back, framing his face with her fingers and staring at him through the opening. "I mean, who wouldn't want to be the next John Bonham."

"John Bonham?"

She gestured towards a framed record on the wall behind him, feeling thankful to change the subject. "Only one of the best drummers to ever grace the face of the earth." She walked over to her backpack and pulled out her phone, unraveling the headphones wrapped around it. She tapped on the screen a few times and then handed it over to him.

His tone was quizzical as he read off the name, "Fool in the Rain by ...Led Zeppelin?"

"Have you really never heard of them?"

Shouto shook his head and her mouth dropped.

"Alright well... take it all in buddy," she motioned towards the ear buds.

He put them in his ears, pressed play and stared down at the phone as the song started. It didn’t take long for him to be hooked, zoning in on the drums and how they effortlessly worked with the other instruments to form the melody. His head started to move with the beat, following along with its rhythm. He could identify the specific sounds of each component he had learned. It's like something clicked and he understood when she had said that a good drummer can make all the difference to how the song comes together. It was the first time he had actually "heard" a piece of music. Don't get him wrong, he knew the piano could be an incredibly moving instrument, but nothing had ever spoken to him personally like this. The song was about halfway through when it suddenly paused.

"Uh, someone named ... Boomer is calling." He handed her the phone.

"Oh!" she said, glancing up at the clock as she scrambled to answer.

‘What kind of name is Boomer?’ he thought.

"Hey! Sorry if you've been waiting, I lost track of time. I'll head over n--- ....I SAID I WAS SORRY....... It's none of your business ya punk! Just chill out, I'll be there soon!" She groaned in annoyance and ended the call, "I gotta go."

She walked to where a few guitars hung on the wall and took down a black and white Gibson, placing it in the case that was on the floor beneath it.

"You play guitar too?" Shouto asked. He wasn't really surprised as his teacher had already told him in the past that she played multiple instruments. He didn't know why but for some reason he wanted to continue being in her company for just a little longer.

"Among other things, yeah. I get bored if I stick to one thing for too long."

"Dividing your efforts into multiple instruments has to make mastering one pretty difficult," he stated matter of factly.

"I think you and I may look at music a little differently. I don't play an instrument with the need to master it. I play because of how it makes me feel. I let the instrument guide me where it needs to go, not the other way around. I guess, I just don't see the point in doing something if it doesn't set my soul on fire, ya know?" She zipped up the guitar bag and walked back towards him, holding out her hand. "I'm Ronnie by the way."

He walked around the drum set and shook it. "Todoroki, Shouto." She was staring at him intensely, making him shift uncomfortably. "What is it?" he asked a bit harshly, feeling conscious about his scar.

"Oh! Sorry- ha! I was just admiring that rockstar hair of yours again." She flashed him a rock and roll sign, though he didn't understand the gesture. It wasn't just the hair that had her mesmerized, but the smooth, burned skin around his eye. She felt sad that she found it so beautiful, without knowing what kind of pain was behind it.

"Thanks? I guess." He looked away, putting his hands in his pockets.

She smiled. "It kind of reminds me of Christmas morning." He looked back at her, his cheeks feeling warm again.

"Well, I guess I'll see ya around, Shouto."

His mouth went a bit dry at the familiarity and he nodded. "Yeah. See ya."

She turned and walked out of the room. He listened as the front door opened, feeling an odd knot in his stomach as it closed. He grasped at the sensation over his shirt and went over to sit back down at the piano. He couldn't pinpoint what exactly this feeling was, but it had made him feel SOMETHING, so he relished in it. Grabbing his phone from out of his pocket, he opened up Apple Music and typed in a song. He closed his eyes, his lips twitching up slightly as "Fool in the Rain" started to play through the speakers.

_________________________

♫ music selection ♫

Ludovico Einaudi - Nuvole Bianche

Led Zeppelin - Fool in the Rain

this was the first chapter of my abandoned BNHA music AU (+ a few HQ!! crossovers)... but i think it works as a cute standalone piece. recently been debating on resurrecting this fic or just using the existing material for hcs or scenarios... hmmm 🤔

xo n.pi