#fic: i want to break free

[daughter-of-melpomene]

𝐑𝐄-𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆… 𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈 𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐒

❝ Luci was not the type of woman who was generally seen in antique bookshops. Oh, one shouldn't get her wrong, she liked reading quite a bit - seeing as her dear gran, who had raised her, was a librarian, it was rather improbable that she wouldn't - but like most people, she preferred to buy her volumes spanking new from the shelves of Waterstones, rather than ancient and well past yellow from a tiny, cluttered little shop on a Soho street corner.

Still, that was exactly where she had found herself one perfectly ordinary autumn day. While on the run from a rather disgruntled ex-girlfriend who couldn't seem to grasp the notion that goodbye meant goodbye, Luci had rushed into the nearest shop with an unlocked door, completely missing the fact that the bookshop's owner, who she promptly crashed into, had just been in the process of flipping the sign in the window from Open to Closed. While the owner, a funny little white-haired man who introduced himself as Aziraphale, was not exactly pleased with the strange woman who'd suddenly stormed into his beloved shop, he was sympathetic to Luci's plight, and allowed her to remain inside until her ex had safely passed. While waiting, Luci spotted a first-edition copy of Dracula, the two struck up a conversation about Gothic novels, and from there blossomed a sweet, loyal friendship, the only real one Luci had had in her adult life.

Fast-forward four years, and many conversations, late-night reading sessions, and the devastating passing of Luci's gran later, Aziraphale - who, Luci had discovered within a year of their friendship, was actually a bloody angel - was visited by his demon friend during yet another relaxing late night with Luci. Unfortunately, the peace of the night didn't last long, as the demon, Crowley, came proclaiming that the Antichrist was now on Earth and that they likely had less than two decades until Armageddon. That night, Luci sat quietly sipping her wine as the angel and the demon made plans to attempt to avert the end of the world - which was just fine with her, really; she'd been living in this world for a number of years, and while her life, with the exception of her friendship with Aziraphale, had always been rather plain, she quite liked living in it.

But fast-forward eleven more years, and suddenly Crowley and Aziraphale have discovered that they've misplaced the Antichrist (which, Luci thought, should have been rather impossible) and with less than a week to go until the End of Days, they really have to kick themselves into gear. And now Luci, who has oftentimes thought of herself as the most ordinary human on the planet, is pulled into a most extraordinary adventure, involving a book of scarily accurate prophecies, a vintage car that only plays her favorite band, and a hellhound that, in her opinion, is entirely too small to properly do its job.

And if Luci, the angel she's been pining after for more than a decade, and the demon who's quickly growing on her are Earth's last line of defense - oh, this planet is definitely doomed. ❞

General Taglist: @hiddenqveendom, @foxesandmagic, @artemisocs, @reyofluke-ocs, @endless-oc-creations, @stanshollaand, @ginnystilinski-reblogs, @luucypevensie, @ginger-grimm, @arrthurpendragon, @fakedatings, @impales, @claryxjackson, @dancingsunflowers-ocs, @eddysocs, @lucys-chen, @ocappreciationtag.

[beescake]

Sorry for the spam (^o^;) I just really like your blog

no need to apologize ayy!

in this corner we welcome all forms of enjoyment, regardless of whether you're a

happy to have yall here w me,

headin into homestuck 2024 :^)

[valyrfia]

i may be delusional (i most definitely am) but max and charles both flew into the same airport in sardinia within a day of each other which is also the same place where charles's yacht is moored which obviously means that lestappen are about to embark on a 2 week cruise of the mediterranean together

[lunarharp]

into the deep end - 29k T orufrey fic.

the sweet oblivion of the victim, the poisoned freedom of the other.

for one moment - it had felt like two parts returned - the needed reunion of two disparate halves. no more secrets, no more pain.

the moment you get to give back what you never wanted to take. that moment, under the night-blooming flowers, when they had both let out the same single broken sigh of relief.

but they were never whole to begin with, were they?

qifrey swore he wouldn't say 'sorry' to this man any more if he could help it - sorry is cheap now. he didn't want to be in a position ever again where you only have 'sorry' left. so he just looks down into the threads of his blanket, strains his eye until it hurts, feeling his insides - his throat, heart and head - burn with pain. he expects more, but olly says nothing.

olly says nothing.

[findafight]

Eddie ruffles through Steve's glove box and finds a cassette labeled BANNED SONGS and thinks "don't mind if I do~" before shoving it in the player without looking at the tracklist.

Olivia Newton John's Physical blares through the speakers, already halfway done. Steve laughs but doesn't say anything.

It fades out and the next song starts with a weird sort of clicking noise, and sounds sort of snyth popfunk? Eddie isn't really sure. He lets it play out, anti-reagan sentiment and condemnation of fascism behind the synth. Its. Unique. He kinda digs it though. He listens for the next song and- Loretta fuckin Lynn?

"Steve. what the fuck."

Steve's mouthing along, tapping the beat on the steering wheel. He grins. "It's my banned songs tape. All of em have been censored in some way or another. Listen!" He turns it up, and, Loretta Lynn is singing, in her charming Appalachian drawl, about how she's not having any more kids, how she's getting her life back and not going to be pregnant constantly because she's got birth control. How she's going to have fun.

The song ends with a beat of silence, and trumpet bleeds with piano with the white noise of an old recording transfer from a record, and Billie Holiday sings mournfully, filling the car with the pain in her voice.

It trails out, the soft sound of a record not quite finished after the song, and then there's a drumbeat, strong, on the next one. Eddie finally checks the carefully written tracklist on the inside of Steve's little homemade cover.

"Redbone? The--the 'come and get your love' guys?"

Steve nods. "The lyrics, Eddie." And oh. Oh it's about Native Americans getting killed by the army. Shit.

"yeah. Some of em are heavy, some of em just talk about sex. Or god." He smirks.

It fades out, and the goddamn Beach Boys come on.

"are you serious?"

Steve laughs again.

"what made you make this?"

He shrugs, "after it all came back, in '84, I was. Messed up. Nance and I had broken up and she'd gotten with Jonathan, I was suuuper concussed, and these government goons were giving me the third fucking degree even though it was all their fault it happened in the first place and they hadn't done shit to stop it. I already had the Redbone album" he ignores Eddie's muttered of course you did "so I thought, fuck it. I can't do much but I can listen to things they don't want me to. So, yeah."

Freddie Mercury croons, and they both laugh.

[the-autistic-vulcan]

Rogerina

"oh, what a dreamy girl!" he thought, "to have an angel like her and call her my own"

[designernishiki]

The Kiwami Millennium Tower showdown definitely ended with Kiryu being shaken awake by Haruka, who frantically pulls him over to Nishiki, half-buried in rubble and in a pool of his own blood, and Kiryu carrying a badly injured Nishiki out of the building to safety and still holding him close and not letting go when Nishiki regains consciousness in his arms and starts to weakly struggle against his grip, gives up, and breaks down sobbing, clutching Kiryu’s shirt and pleading to him–

“Please don’t do this– please don’t force me to live with this– just end it. I don’t deserve to live, I don’t want your mercy or your pity– it wasn’t supposed to go like this. I failed– I fail at everything– I even failed at ending my own life. I’ve hurt and betrayed everyone I’ve ever cared about and been a burden on everyone I’ve ever known. I’ll never be enough. Why the hell are you trying to save me? What the hell is there to save? Let me do one useful thing for once in my life and leave me to bleed out like I should. Please, Kazuma.”

And with teary eyes squeezed shut, his head down, Kiryu holds him so tightly to his chest it makes Nishiki’s burns sting and tells him,

“Everyone hurt you, and I left you to hurt alone. I broke our promise. I should’ve never left you to cross the line alone. I was supposed to be there for you, and I wasn’t– but I’m here now and I’m not letting you go. Never again. I need you here. I want you here. Just being here is enough, Akira. I promise.”

And Nishiki gives into his instinctive need to just cling to him and cry, as if making up for years of pent-up tears he’s forced himself not to shed out of an intense fear of vulnerability. He does what he should’ve done a long time ago, fakes his death, and leaves the yakuza life behind in favor of something more mundane, but something that’s actually him– something that allows him to accept himself as he is rather than being forced to live up to the impossible standards of others.

Trust me this is absolutely how it went. The End.

[the-eclectic-wonderer]

Summary:

Three little scenes on the theme of singing.

:) I was in the mood for something short and sweet. Hope you enjoy!

[patron-saints]

hello followers friends and mutuals am at work and having kind of a weird day, would y’all wanna send some asks?

[meownotgood]

it feels so good to finally have time to work on my fic again!!!!

[daughter-of-melpomene]

RAVEN’S OCS’ CHARACTER PLAYLISTS

——— Luci Evans (Good Omens)

General Taglist: @hiddenqveendom, @auxiliarydetective, @foxesandmagic, @artemisocs, @reyofluke-ocs, @endless-oc-creations, @stanshollaand, @ginevrastilinski, @luucypevensie, @arrthurpendragon, @fakedatings, @impales, @ocappreciation.

[cornerful]

Sméagol and the Gift

'Now!' said Sam. 'At last I can deal with you!' He leaped forward with drawn blade ready for battle. But Gollum did not spring. He fell flat upon the ground and whimpered.

'Don't kill us,' he wept. 'Don't hurt us with nassty cruel steel! Let us live, yes, live just a little longer. Lost lost! We're lost. And when Precious goes we'll die, yes, die into the dust.'

Devastated by this. Just a little longer, he begs. Even though his existence is a torment. Even though the will that holds him to life is barely his own anymore. He has long outlived his time but it's such a cruelty that now the only freedom for him is in death. I'm glad Sam didn't kill him but the whole scenario is awful.

When a mortal keeps a ring of power he does not gain more life, he continues, denied natural mortality as the fear of death is amplified and twisted into fear of separation, nothing matters anymore but the keeping, the continuing. In that miserable existence there is no peace, and at its end there is no graceful goodbye to life, there is only dust. Sudden, empty, and final.

It would take murder to spare him that. Or falling with the ring into the fire.

Bilbo let it go in time (did he feel anything when it was destroyed?) Frodo is freed of it now, though the toll it extracted for the separation was at very least a finger. It was too late for Gollum for the price to be anything other than it was, and that's brutal.

If you live long enough, death is no longer the enemy. What Sauron did to Gollum ensured that it would always be the enemy, to be feared and avoided for ever, once time and the ring had fashioned it into the only escape left. Evil.

[soldier-poet-king]

I have too many emotions in too quick a succession with periods of severe emptiness in between I just. I don't have time to PROCESS any of them. It's like I've been incurring an emotional 'debt' for 27 years.

[urwendii]

Like, in all honesty I absolutely crave one-sided angbang because aro Melkor is my jam and Mairon staying hoping pinning breaking himself in pieces in the hope that one day he would be Seen. Yes. Yes to this.

[daftpatience]

I need a really long fix it fic that super in depth covers how the bombing of revachol is prevented and they figure out how to finally slowly reverse the pale's expansion and there is hope for elysium as much of a pipe dream as it all is

like harry is a ttrpg protagonist I think he deserves to have a hand in saving the world adventure zone style

[six-demon-bag]

decoherence

Pairing: Ernst Schmidt/Helmut Zemo

Summary: Schmidt gets drugged at a shitty bar and ends up literally stumbling into Zemo’s life. Things only get stranger from there.

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Crossover, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Ernst Schmidt, Alpha Helmut Zemo, insecure schmidty, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Caretaking, Knotting, Rimming, Massage, Falling In Love, Reveal, Happy Ending, Alternate Universe - Mob, Mob Boss Helmut Zemo, oblivious schmidt, Pining

Word count: 22303

Link: decoherence

Excerpt:

Zemo doesn’t just stick to caretaking, he’s downright protective. It’s not overbearing, the way a lot of alphas are. Schmidt’s maybe gotten too attached to it. Zemo makes him feel safe, even in these situations that are so far out of Schmidt’s comfort zone he’d be running if Zemo weren’t there, fingers soft on his hand and dark eyes steady over the flickering candle. Schmidt sighs in defeat. Zemo beams at him. The table is small and close, just a tiny warm nook for the two of them and Schmidt barely registers the food. He’s sure it’s good, not that he recognizes it even when Zemo explains the names, not when Zemo looks at him like this. Not when Zemo gently directs him through the etiquette of the everything here, not when Zemo leans across the table to make a point in their conversation. Schmidt is sunk. He can’t deny it anymore, not with the way Zemo’s crooked smile in the candlelight makes him feel. He’s in love.