The Music Freaks Fanfiction Novels & Stories

Dad kissed my cheek and whispered, “I’m glad you’re making friends.” “Thanks, daddy,” I smiled and headed to my room. I closed the door and grabbed my bath stuff, I went into the bathroom and got undressed. I filled up the tub and climbed in, I stared out the window and thought about what Onyx said… Monochromatic Musicista. A musical soul with no form. I couldn’t get that out of my head… I knew that I couldn’t ask my parents about it, muses above know that they’ll flip if they found out.

She was already lightheaded and beginning to lose all feeling in her legs. The group seemed disappointed by her success, with the exception of Ahmed. He seemed uncomfortable with the whole situation, concentrating on finding music on Spotify rather than joining in with his mates. He landed on some rock band. Alice considered herself a fan of this genre of music but couldn't recognise the band he'd picked. "Who is this," Alice asked him, sneaking away from the rest of the group. "Ice nine kills," Ahmed told her. "They make songs about different horror movies. This one is nightmare on elm street."

Even through the soundproofing, I could feel the intense vibrations. My family was on a killing spree, laughing and shooting to the rhythm. "This is awesome!" "We're apocalypse hunters!" "Bring it on! More!" Their laughter and screams mixed with the music, creating a head-splitting racket. My private messages pinged. [Liam: Ava, are you okay? Is it too stuffy down there?] [Liam: I can protect you if you want to come up.] [Liam: Even though you chose a strange talent, I won't abandon you.]

A pang of guilt prodded at my chest—I was cruel to her the first time we talked about the band, before she connected the dots on exactly who I was. “I’m surprised your dad let you listen to the kind of music I used to make.” Climbing in beside her, I sat behind the wheel. The seat was still perfectly molded to my form, like it was frozen in time . . . just like me, I supposed. “A lot of people called our stuff ‘Devil Music’ back in the day.” “You think my dad knew?” She scoffed, carefully taking a bite of her triple chocolate muffin over the open bag. It was sweet how she worried about leaving crumbs behind, as though there wasn’t enough liquor and other fluids spilled on these seats back wh

He's eighteen, so I can let him hear my songs without anyone looking at me crazy. I sit and talk with him, and Jock joins us. I watch our family having fun, laughing, and dancing. We may have all come from different backgrounds and species, but we made a family that's closer than some blood-related families. I love them all, and my heart swells as I watch them. We've all come so far. We beat the underworld and sent Satan home with his tail between his legs. They may call me the badass fairy, but we're all badassess. We're the badass family. "Okay, everyone, I have a song," I say, standing up and walking toward the dance floor. Some groan, some laugh, and others look unsure.

We’d used that money to bribe Hank’s older brother into getting us a twelve-pack of beer. Our music wasn’t as raw as it was back then, but what it lacked in crude sound it more than made up for in power. Every note we hit that night had the force of a sucker punch. We didn’t merely play those songs for the crowd; we attacked them, ripping into them like wild animals. We’d starved for weeks in that studio, and now we’d have our nourishment. ‘Gypsy’ transitioned into ‘Dim Carcosa’, and during Hank’s bass-driven lead up, Johnny held out his hand to the crowd.

“She would be all happy seeing you moving forward.” “I know.” I give a genuine smile. Song inspiration for the chapter: Little Freak by Harry Styles (Chorus part only)

Chapter 4 Days come by so quickly when I am dreading it, it feels like the past five days flew by in a blur and suddenly I am on the backstage with my bandmate- If we are even considered one. The songs that we had rehearse for tonight were mainly Kacy Musgraves and Lady Antebellum.Ethan, Brandy, Jack, and Oliver were the only guys that I find myself comfortable with besides Bibi and Mr Young , solely because we were in sort of a band and Mr Young is my landlord. But the stares and the gawking that I've been receiving tonight creeps my skin out, it makes me uneasy and the urge to vomit overwhelmed my senses.

“I mean. There’s nuclear bombs pointed right at us. Who gives a shit what kind of music we like, or how we dress? Reagan pushes a button and we’re all fucking ashes, right? But the people here, it’s like they’re blind to that. They just care about whose car looks better when they scoop the loop. Who’s made it with the most girls. Whose team beat whose. And, like, I’m somehow the weirdo because I don’t give a shit about that stuff? And you want to know the really fucked up thing? Billy Idol says that on MTV and they’d all fucking lap it up. Girls wet their panties for that guy, and every mouth-breather in my school would kill to be him. I wear leather gloves like he does to school one fucking