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galeorderbride · 2 months

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👉🏼👈🏼 may you do headcanons for Rolan, Dammon and Wyll with a GN or Fem Tav that isn’t very physically strong, but an absolute beast with magic? I’m talking like, they’re breaking a sweat picking up a large battle axe, but casting spells is like second nature to them? Healing, debuffs, and attacking spells. They don’t make a show of it, but are quite proud of it. (My lil Tav is a bard and storm sorcerer, if that helps) (btw: I hope you have a nice day! 💖)

May you have a nice day too, anon! Thanks for this cute request! And also for your patience!

Tags: F!Tav (no appearance described), T rating, I went a little fluffy with these.

Headcanons below for Wyll, Dammon and Rolan (in that order):

Wyll:

Wouldn’t doubt you for a second! Since he joins Tav’s side as a companion, he’d see first hand how much of a beast she would be with magic. He might poke a little fun at her for struggling to move large rocks or missing a hit with her staff, but when she incinerates a goblin in one hit from a mere fire bolt cantrip, there can be no debate that Tav is a force to be reckoned with. Everything is all in good fun, and he’d become drawn to the little moments he’d see her playing with strands of weave to pass the time. Firelight glowing against her skin, cheeks blush from a glass or two of wine as purple strands flowed around her.

In between those fascinating moments, he’d take advantage of Tav’s lack of physical aptitude. Offering to pick up heavy objects for her, carry supply boxes to and from, chop wood for the fire (in hopes that she was in the sight line to be watching). For the first time, he’d feel useful without having to rely on his warlock powers. Simply labouring to help someone, and a person he grew to care about very deeply, at that. Seeing her smile and thank him every time was just a bonus.

His favourite moment was after fighting the Bullette in the Underdark. A particularly taxing beast, and one that took a sinister swipe at him as he got a little too close with his rapier. The creature left a large gash on his arm, blood pooling out of the wound and staining his shirt. Tav wasn’t a cleric, he accepted having to wait until arriving at camp for Shadowheart’s help. But he was wrong.

Tav sat him down on a broken tree stump and began to hover her hand over the wound. Azure particles of healing magic sealing the cut and cleaning off the drying blood. Wyll shivered at her touch, overwhelmed by both the feeling of sizzling weave and the intimacy between them. Foreign to him after so many years playing the Blade of Frontiers, avoiding the ire of Mizora. He inched a little closer to Tav on the log, sighing in relief as the agony of his injury disappeared. Left only with their faces inching closer.

“You are full of surprises,” he said.

Dammon:

He’s all about smithing, crafting tools and weapons with the heaviest, toughest metals. Infernal iron being the most interesting to him. Getting to know Tav had provided much needed motivation to keep with his work, as she’d allow him to information dump on his favourite kinds of elements, how much he learned in his time in Avernus, even showing her blueprints he created. She was simply a joy to talk to, and had fascinating things to say about all things magic. Reminding him a bit of Rolan, but not quite so proud of her gift.

Ultimately, he is charmed by Tav’s humility. Treating magic as a labour of love rather than a weapon or status symbol to behold. In perfection, there was imperfection, Dammon knew that well. And he was positively charmed when Tav tried to help him move a large battle axe out of the way, struggling to drag it to the nearest corner of his makeshift shop. Trying to hide the grunts and heavy breaths as she used both arms to slide the weapon back. Dammon grinned, stuck in how adorable she looked when she didn’t notice him noticing her. He blew his cover, laughing out loud when Tav swore under her breath and used a sending spell to drive the axe into the corner with a smack against the wooden bearing.

“Were you watching me just now?” She asked, brow raised in a cheeky expression.

He raised his hands in defeat. “Was a little difficult when you sounded like an ox in pain.”

She scoffed, containing her laugh, “Don’t you know how to compliment a lady.”

Dammon cleared his throat, masking the nervousness that still coated his face every time she did something even adjacent to flirting. Leave it to a sorcerer to render someone speechless, a charisma only championed by a witty warlock.

Tav smiled, patting his shoulder as she said, “Don’t worry, just joking around. You’re right, after all, I am the weakest link when it comes to strength. It’s either magic or endurance, really.”

“Well,” Dammon started with a careful smirk, “You certainly showed that axe who’s boss with that magic of yours.”

Dammon had a silent thought as the two of them eyed each other from across the shop. A potential, an idea he dared not think too hard about lest he jinx any chance of it happening. Maybe the two of them could make up for what the other didn’t have. She could bring forth a strong, admirable magic while he supplied the strength, the tools. He’d never be a Herculean warrior, but he could lift pounds and pounds of heavy metal after years of blacksmithing. And if she were ever in need of such services, he’d be there in a heartbeat.

Rolan:

Both him and Tav are casters, fascinated and intertwined with the magic of the weave. One might think that Rolan would find friendly solidarity with a fellow spell caster, but things are never that simple with him, are they? At first, Rolan might be a little dismissive towards Tav, especially if she’s a sorcerer rather than a wizard. He’d humour the times he’d see Tav do magic, acknowledging it to be impressive but unpractised. Ignoring the eye rolls from Cal and Lia who saw right through his ruse.

That ruse being that, deep down, Rolan felt a little envious of Tav’s abilities. Especially as the goblins closed in on the Grove, Tav and her companions fought alongside the tieflings atop the fortified gate. Her spell work was decisive, powerful. High level spells and cantrips wreaking havoc on the goblins below, a firebolt at the oil barrels causing an explosion. Followed by a skilled thunder wave to knock spiders off the platforms. This wasn’t to say he didn’t do his part, a detail oriented and savvy wizard. But as capable as he was, he also found himself with the nasty habit of comparing himself to others.

After the fight, Rolan sat on a pair of discarded boxes as Cal and Lia excitedly re-enacted the battle. Joking and horsing around with some of the tiefling kids while the adults began to pack up for the road. Tav was there as well, doing her part to contribute as always. Smiling and chatting with the refugees as she walked slowly up the path to the Grove. She ended at Rolan, standing over him with a soft grin, glinting in the dusty sunlight behind her. Hair moving in the little breeze, wafting with the scent of fresh water and florals. An aura that, somehow, left him calm. A feeling he’d been having since the party at her camp. When he’d managed to actually talk to her for a few minutes without trying to prove himself. He thought back to that a lot.

“Mind if I sit down with you?” She asked, seating herself on the box next to his when he nodded.

“I figured you’d be out there helping pack everyone’s wagon,” Rolan said, eyes shifting from side to side, unable to look her in the eye without an embarrassing blush not even his complexion could hide.

She chuckled, “Admittedly, I’m not much help. Bex and Danis did their best to humour me as I struggled to put a single box on the wagon. Hard not to give up after a minute.”

Rolan sighed, “I see. I’m not the strongest out there either. Not exactly a talent of most wizards.”

“At least we have our magic,” she said. “I enjoyed creating those little illusions with you at the party. Maybe we can do that again sometime?”

He thought back to that moment, when she caught him performing a little magic for Cal and Lia. She clapped for him, a blip of encouragement next to the teasing of his siblings. Tav and him walked off together, he wasn’t exactly sure how she convinced him to do that, and they did more illusory magic together. Creating different colours and effects, Tav even created a stag, saying he reminded her of the calm but confident creature. He was a nervous mess the entire time. Fumbling words, avoiding eye contact. Never gaining the courage to tell her how much he enjoyed that night.

He cleared his throat, shrugging off the lurching anxiety over what the right thing to say was. “If we manage to cross paths again. Perhaps we could.”

Tav smiled, knocking her arm against his playfully. “I look forward to it.”

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfic #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 headcanons #fic requests #wyll ravengard #bg3 dammon #bg3 rolan #bg3 wyll #bg3 romance

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hbyrde36 · 6 months

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Times Like These (The Anniversary Edition)

CH 1 CH 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch5 Ch6

Chapter 7: Running in Circles

WC: 6637 | AO3 link

The moment Eddie landed back in his body he fell to his knees and sobbed.

He wanted to lay down and die all over again.

Anything to escape the agony of losing. Losing in general, losing Steve. Never mind that the loop had managed to reset itself, meaning there was a brand new Steve only a few miles away who was just fine. Who Eddie had another chance to save.

But he wasn’t ready to think about that just yet.

Not that he had any time for mourning. Time was both his greatest asset and his mortal enemy in this moment because he so desperately needed it all to fucking stop, if only for a little while.

But, as the saying goes, time waits for no man. Chrissy was standing there, right in front of him, and the countdown to her demise had begun the second he landed back at the beginning of this godforsaken nightmare.

He gave himself one minute to feel it. Sixty seconds of wallowing in heartbreak—of saying goodbye to a past that only he would ever remember, before shoving it all down and getting to work.

He mumbled vague apologies to a very confused and concerned Chrissy when he finally picked himself back up, and then simply walked away, striding quickly to his room to take up his acoustic guitar and play for her again.

It worked, even if he had some trouble putting his whole heart into it this time, and he was grateful that it did. He didn’t know what he would have done if it hadn’t.

He held her close after she fell—still tried to put her back together again even though it felt impossible when he was missing so many of his own parts, but he didn’t give her long. He didn’t give either of them long enough to truly recover from their respective ordeals before dragging her to her feet.

“Stay here a second?” He said, not waiting for a reply before returning to his room.

Frantically he dumped the contents of his backpack on the ground and filled it with clothes, his walkman, and his trusty black lunchbox. He had a feeling he might need it to get through the next few days.

Back in the living room he grabbed his keys, took Chrissy's hand, and led her outside.

The goal was to grab Max and get the hell out of Dodge before Jason showed up looking for Chrissy, or a fight. He didn’t want to see that motherfucker ever again if he could help it, and he certainly could live without another broken nose.

He flew up the front steps of Max’s trailer and began pounding on the door.

“Max!” He shouted, continuously banging his fist. “Code red, Max. Open up. We gotta go right now!”

The door flung open suddenly, revealing a very annoyed and very wide-eyed redhead.

“What the hell, dude?! Did Dustin put you up to this?”

“No Red, he didn’t, and there’s literally no time for me to explain, so–” Eddie shrugged one shoulder and pushed past her without waiting for an invitation, heading right back to her room while pulling Chrissy along behind him.

“What are you doing?!” Max yelled, trailing behind.

It wasn’t like Eddie didn’t know he was acting, maybe, a bit erratic—but he was frustrated at once again being the only one who knew there was trouble brewing, and frankly he just didn’t have the mental strength to ease anyone into it. Any patience he had left died in the last loop.

“Pack a bag.” He told her as he perused her tape collection, picking out the right Pat Benatar tape. He checked for the other but it didn't seem to be on the shelf. It was probably already in her player.

“You’ll need your walkman, and your Kate Bush tape too. You might want to grab some clothes while you’re at it, we may not be back for a while.”

“Wait… what?”

He finally looked at her, really looked at her, and realized that under the show of annoyance, she was scared. He was freaking her out.

He sighed, running his hands roughly through his hair. “You saw the lights flickering earlier, right? Over at my place?”

She bit her lip, nodding reluctantly. “Is that what this is all about?”

“Yes,” he said, as softly as he could manage, picking up her school bag from the floor and handing it to her. “And I'm sorry, but we need to go now.”

“Where are we going?”

“Steve’s.” Eddie swallowed thickly. “Grab your walkie, we’ll call him from the road”

Max continued to eye him suspiciously but she didn’t argue. Sometime later he’d have to wonder why the girl went along with him so easily, but for now he was just grateful she didn't put up more of a fight.

Chrissy was quiet throughout the whole thing, and seemed a lot more shell-shocked than last time. Which was fair, considering he was acting like an insane person, had given her zero time to recover from her attack, and had explained exactly nothing. He just… he needed to get out of here. He needed to see Steve. Then maybe he could settle down long enough to tell her and everyone else what was going on.

On the bright side, at least he wouldn't be showing up on Steve’s doorstep battered and bloody.

“Pass that radio up here, will ya?” Eddie asked once they were on the road, reaching back to where Max sat. She handed it over without a word.

He cleared his throat, holding the button down as he spoke into the device, steering with one hand. “Code red, I repeat, code red. Anyone who can hear me right now needs to meet up at Steve’s house as soon as possible. And, uh, Harrington, sorry to interrupt date night but you need to ditch the lucky girl and pick up Robin and Dustin on your way home.”

It all came out a little more manic and bitter than he’d meant it to, but it couldn’t be helped. It was all he could do to keep it together long enough to get to Loch Nora safely.

“Who the hell is this? Over.” Dustin said

“Hey, Henderson.”

“Wait… Eddie?”

“Yeah, man, It’s me. Listen,” Eddie paused, tapping the radio against his cheek. “I know you probably have like a million questions right now and I swear I will answer every one of them, but please just—hold off for a bit.”

“Is this some kind of joke?” Another voice asked.

Eddie sucked in a breath, eyes stinging as Steve came over the line. He knew the other boy would be listening, he should have expected it—had expected it, but somehow it still caught him off guard.

“I wish it was, pretty boy, I really wish it was. There was a little problem down at the trailer park. Max is with me, and a–friend. I’ll explain when we get to your place.”

After a moment of dead air, Dustin spoke again. “Steve?”

“It’s fine, Henderson,” Steve replied quickly, sounding irritated, if resigned. “I’ll be there to get you as soon as I can.”

“Should I call the others?” Dustin asked.

“Yes.” Eddie cut in.

“Why not.” Steve scoffed. “Party at Steve’s! It’s not like I had plans on a Friday night or anything.”

It didn’t occur to Eddie until he turned the radio off and handed it back to Max that not once did Dustin complain about the lack of ‘walkie etiquette’. That maybe should have been his first sign that things weren’t exactly going well.

As soon as they pulled up to Steve’s, Max burst out of the rear doors of the van, all but running into the house before Eddie even had the chance to put it in park. Chrissy didn’t move or react. In fact, she’d done nothing but stare out the passenger window for the entire ride over.

“Hey, Chris?” He said gently, turning in his seat to face her. “I know this whole night has been crazy and you don’t know me very well, but for what it’s worth I really can explain what’s happening… if you can trust me enough to come inside?”

She remained still and quiet for long enough that he was concerned she’d become catatonic, but eventually she tilted her head to look at him and gave a shallow nod. He jumped out, rounding the front of the van to open the passenger door for her. She faltered, stepping out on unsteady legs and he offered her a hand, which she took instantly, and held onto for dear life.

Eddie hesitated at the front door, his instincts telling him to just walk inside, but he wasn’t sure Steve, who barely knew him now—again, would appreciate that.

Holding his breath, he rang the bell.

Intellectually, Eddie had known that the loop resetting meant Steve was alive, and he’d already heard his voice, but to actually see Steve physically standing there in one piece filled him with a sense of relief that made his knees weak.

For a moment he forgot himself, stepping forward fully intent on wrapping the other boy up in his arms. He itched to press his face into Steve’s neck again, breathe him in deep and think about better days, but he caught himself at the last second and held back, instead giving Steve a friendly pat on the shoulder with his free hand while using the momentum of the near-hug to push past him and into the house, tugging Chrissy along with him.

“Sure, come right in.” Steve sniped.

Eddie didn’t look, but he knew that tone well enough to be sure Steve was rolling his eyes at their backs.

He guided Chrissy to the living room and sat her down on the couch, while Steve blew past them, disappearing into the kitchen where Robin must have been. He could hear them whispering about him, though not quietly enough, because he heard it clear as day when Robin hissed, “oh my god, and he’s got Chrissy Cunningham with him?”

He stopped listening after that, in favor of paying attention to the girl in front of him. He hadn’t taken very good care of her this time around, and he needed to fix that as soon as possible.

“Can I get you some water or anything?” Eddie asked, crouching down in front of her, smoothing the hair out of her eyes.

“Yes, water, thank you,” she said, managing a weak smile.

“You got it, I'll be right back.” He patted her knee and marched straight into the other room, where Robin and Steve fell abruptly silent at his entrance.

He ignored them, not really knowing how to act just yet—but did know, without a shadow of a doubt, that if he looked at Steve for too long right now he might lose his shit. Which would be less than helpful at this stage. He went to the cabinet where the glasses were, moving through the space like he was familiar with it—because he was—and crossed to the fridge, filling the cup he retrieved with the pitcher of water he knew Steve kept in there.

“What—you—how?” Steve sputtered, narrowing his eyes. “Have you been here before?”

“No questions until everyone is here.” Eddie said over his shoulder, already walking away.

Dustin and Max had appeared in the living room while he was gone, and they watched curiously as he handed the glass over to Chrissy and sat down.

He leaned forward, dropping his head into his hands as he took a few deep breaths, remembering the way Steve had coached him through his panic attack on this same night, as he tried to settle his thoughts.

“You know what? No. This has gone far enough!” Steve bellowed, rushing into the room. “You gotta give me something, man or I’m gonna… I don’t know. Call the police or something?”

Eddie dropped his hands but kept his eyes trained on the floor. Seeing first Steve’s socked feet come into view on the carpet in front of him, then Robin’s converse sneakers right behind.

“Steve!”

“Don’t give me that shit, Dustin. You see how he’s acting. He's clearly high on something. Or maybe drunk? Taking one of your D&D sessions a little too seriously? What?”

Eddie looked up just in time to see Steve pull his signature move. His hands flew to his hips, and the accompanying glare was as fiery as ever, even though his hair flopped into his eyes when he tilted his head.

It almost made Eddie smile.

“How the hell should I know?!” Dustin shouted.

“Well he’s your new best friend, isn’t he?!”

Oh, right.

Eddie had forgotten this part.

Up until their week-from-hell bonding session, or in the case of the last few loops, up until he learned the truth of what Eddie was going through, Steve had been jealous of his budding friendship with the kids—well—Dustin, in particular. Granted Eddie had been jealous too, but those days were far in the past for him.

“Steve, that’s not–” Dustin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why would you assume he’s on drugs anyway?”

“I hate to break it to you kid, but your new buddy here is the town–”

“Oh my god, Harrington!” Eddie quickly cut him off. Not that he really cared if the kid found out about his little side business, he’d be learning about it momentarily anyway, but he’d had enough. “I'm not high! And I’m not drunk either. I’m stuck in a fucking time loop.”

“Bullshit.” Dustin snorted.

Eddie’s heart sank. Dustin always believed him. Had he really screwed things up so badly that even that had changed?

Steve crossed his arms over his chest. “You can’t expect us to buy that.”

Eddie had to turn away from the hard look in Steve’s eyes. He’d understood it before, the first few times around when it had taken a bit of time, and a lot of explanation, for the other boy to trust him, but now it just… hurt.

He felt so alone.

“Dustin, you told me something, in the first loop. You said if I told you this thing, you’d believe me.”

Steve tapped his foot impatiently on the carpet. “Okay, let’s hear it then.”

“Don’t be an asshole, Harrington.” Eddie snapped, getting up from his spot on the couch to approach Dustin. “It’s his secret, if he wants to tell you someday, he will."

He bent down and whispered quietly into the kid’s ear, “You're adopted. Your mom told you a year ago and no one else knows, not even Steve.”

Dustin’s eyes went impossibly wide as he blinked up at Eddie in utter shock for a second, then his face spread into a wide grin. “Holy shit, he’s telling the truth! This is amazing! But what–”

The smile dropped suddenly off his face as the implications started to sink in. “On the walkie earlier you said code red, but I didn’t think—does that mean this is…”

“Upside Down related?” Eddie finished for him. “Yeah, I'm afraid so.”

Steve watched the two of them with a deeply furrowed brow, no longer looking quite so bothered and skeptical, now he just seemed worried. Eddie softened, letting his own problems take a back seat for a minute. This was Steve, who—whatever he thought of Eddie right now—he cared about so fucking much.

"I’m sorry, Steve.” Eddie said, and never had he meant those two words more. “I know what you’ve all been through over the past few years, and I’m sure this is the last thing you want to hear right now, but it’s the truth. You have no idea how much I wish it wasn’t.”

Erica arrived a short time later on her bike, and Eddie used the distraction to escape to the downstairs bathroom and splash some cold water on his face.

He’d only been near Steve again for less than an hour and he was already going out of his mind, how was he supposed to make it through an entire week?

“Hey, man, are you okay?” A voice called from the other side.

It was Steve, because of course it was.

A part of Eddie longed to let him in, to steal a moment with the boy he was almost sure he was in love with, but it wouldn't be the same.

Steve didn’t remember the many nights they spent comforting each other and sharing their most intimate secrets. He didn’t know how they’d cooked for each other, and swapped stories, and kept each other sane in the midst of the world crumbling down around them.

He could have let him in anyway, and maybe tried to start over, build them back up into a version of what they were, but Eddie didn’t think he could survive getting that close, going that deep, only to have it ripped away all over again.

Nancy's voice filtered in from down the hall, and assuming she’d brought Mike along that meant everyone was there and accounted for. It was time.

Plastering a fake smile on his face, Eddie took one more deep breath for good luck and opened the door.

“I’m good, Harrington. Let's get this over with.”

He tried to walk past but Steve stopped him with a hand on his elbow. “Eddie, wait.”

Eddie stiffened, heart pounding. Déjà fucking vu, of the most painful kind.

“I’m sorry for giving you a hard time before.” Steve let him go, rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. “If Dustin believes you, then so do I. Honestly, after everything I’ve seen… it’s not even that much of a stretch.”

“Thanks,” Eddie said, looking anywhere but at Steve’s face.

In the process of avoidance, the closed door to Steve’s father’s office caught Eddie’s eye and it gave him an idea. He remembered Steve taking a phone call in there once before, and recalled that it didn’t look like an ordinary household model.

“The phone in your dad’s office,” Eddie began, hooking a thumb in the room’s direction. “Any chance it has a speaker?”

“Yeah, why?”

Pushing his inner turmoil aside for the time being, Eddie filled Steve in on how the Byers and El needed to be brought into this too, and how much more efficient it would be if they could be on the phone listening as he explained what was going on.

Steve gaped a little, still not used to Eddie knowing so much about all these things that had been secret for so long, but ultimately he was on board, and took on the task of telling the others to cram themselves into the small office room.

“What the hell is he doing here? And where’s my brother?" Erica asked Steve, spotting Eddie as they all piled in. "He didn’t come home after the game, I figured he’d be here.”

“He’s… ” Steve started to say but trailed off, looking to Eddie for an answer. “Where is Lucas?”

“Partying with the basketball team.”

“Why are we talking in here again?” Nancy asked of no one in particular.

Robin shushed her, Mike laughed, and Eddie stayed out of it. He dialed the number Steve had given him for the Byers house in California and switched on the speakerphone, praying someone would pick up.

Joyce answered on the second ring.

“Hello?”

When Eddie hesitated, realizing that the woman wouldn't know who he was, Steve jumped right in.

“Hey Joyce, it’s Steve. Uh, Harrington.”

“Oh, Steve. Honey, is everything okay?”

“I’m sorry to call out of nowhere like this, um, listen, I’ve got the usual group together at my house and uh, no. I guess everything's not okay? We have a friend here, his name is Eddie, and he has something to tell us. Can you get the kids and Jonathan to listen in too?”

It was proof of just how much these people had been through together that she simply said, “Ok, sure.”

After explaining, briefly, the whole him-time-looping thing in general, Eddie began by going over the original timeline in detail, starting with Chrissy’s death and ending with his own. He brushed over the next two loops, claiming they weren’t important. Which was true, he hadn’t changed anything or learned anything new, so nothing could be gained by forcing himself to recount them.

Finally, he moved on to the last loop. He told them everything, apart from the private moments he and Steve had shared, and managed to keep it as clinical as possible until he reached the point in the story where the group had separated at Benny’s—falling silent as he replayed in his mind the moment he and Steve had said goodbye.

Steve’s grip on his hip, the way his soft lips had felt pressed against Eddie’s own, the terror that had coursed through him when the clock chimed one, two, three, four times.

“Shut it!” Steve shouted, drawing Eddie out of his reverie.

While he’d been zoned out, Dustin, Mike, and Erica had been shouting over each other, badgering him to go on.

“Give the guy a break will ya? He’s been through enough without having to deal with…” Steve broke off with a frustrated sigh, waving a hand. “All of you. Just give him a second.”

Steve Harrington to the rescue as always, Eddie thought with a pang in his chest.

He started again, determined to finish the story and be done with it.

“Obviously we weren’t successful, otherwise I wouldn’t be back here. I can’t tell you exactly what went wrong. I don’t even know if El managed to piggyback into Steve’s mind, but either it didn’t work or Vecna was too strong because…” He trailed off, struggling to swallow past the lump forming in his throat.

He couldn't say it. He just couldn’t.

Thankfully, they were all smart enough to follow the context clues, and he didn’t have to.

“Why didn’t I pull Steve out with the music thing?” Dustin asked, a slight quiver to his voice.

And absolutely not was he letting this kid feel like it was his fault for even a fraction of a second.

“Jason fucking Carver.” Eddie said quickly, and with gusto. “He and Andy saw Steve’s car or something. They showed up at the Creel house, threatened you all with a gun and somehow broke the walkman in the process.”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.” Chrissy blurted out. It was the first time she’d spoken since they left the trailer hours ago. “I should have broken up with him a long time ago, I knew he was a jerk, but–” She broke off sobbing.

Shit.

Eddie was too far away to reach out to her himself but Robin was there, throwing an arm around her, and Chrissy tucked herself into her side.

“None of this is your fault, Chris,” Eddie said, holding her gaze in hopes that would help it sink in—to make sure she knew he meant it. “I know you don’t remember, but trust me you helped us so much. You were there for me–at the end. I will never forget that.”

She nodded, but still dissolved into a new wave of tears against Robin’s shoulder.

While everyone else was looking at her, Eddie felt Steve’s gaze on him like a physical weight, impossible to ignore. “You said the loop resets when you die, right?”

Before he could stop himself Eddie locked eyes with the other boy, and suddenly it was like they were the only two people in the room.

“What happened to you last time?”

On top of everything else, Steve had just learned about his own mysterious death at the hands of a psychic monster, but here he was—not concerned with that, but with Eddie, and what his fate had been.

He tried to deflect, dropping his gaze to the desk as he spoke. “That reminds me, I should really hide my van when we’re done here so no one thinks you’re associated with me if something goes wrong.”

“Eddie, what happened to you last time?” Steve asked again, insistent.

With a heavy sigh, Eddie grudgingly answered. “After they took off from the Creel house, Jason and Andy showed up at Benny’s. I guess they saw the cars and got curious, or maybe they came to check the place out again after Patrick died. I don’t know, I didn’t exactly get to ask any questions. He, um… he shot me. Point blank in the chest.”

By the end he had the room’s full and silent attention again, save for a muffled sniffle over the phone’s speaker, and a warm palm landed on his shoulder. He didn’t even have to raise his head back up to know it was Steve, who’d moved to stand beside him at some point during his latest speech.

He’d know the feel of those hands anywhere.

“Okay, hear me out,” Dustin blurted wearing his patented, I’ve got a brilliant idea, face. “What if we call Owens now and get El together with him sooner. It sounds like she didn’t get the chance to fully regain her powers before they were ambushed, and I’m guessing her battery got drained in the escape with the whole helicopter thing, so she was definitely working at a disadvantage.”

It was a brilliant idea, Eddie had to give it to him. He didn’t realize they had a line to this other doctor guy.

“Yes, I think you are right.” Eleven agreed. “Eddie, you said… Papa was there? In the Nevada place?”

Fuck.

“Yeah, he was there. Somehow he’s alive, I know you thought he wasn’t. I’m sorry. Jonathan said he helped you though, and that it had been your choice to stay.”

“It’s okay, I understand.”

There wasn’t much else to be said for now, and they needed to hang up so Joyce could make her phone calls, but there was one more order of business to deal with first.

“Uh, Mrs. Byers, are you still on the line?” Eddie asked, eyes flicking back to Steve before quickly looking away again.

“Call me Joyce, honey, and yes I’m here.”

“I need to talk to you alone for a minute, if that’s okay. Steve too.”

“Oh. Give me a second to make sure the kids hang up.”

Clearing the office out was a fight, Eddie had expected nothing less, and though they had to be as curious about what was going on as anyone else, Robin and Nancy stepped in and managed to convince the others to leave.

He was sure they’d demand answers at some point, but he’d worry about that later.

“Are you alone?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah.” Joyce said.

“You might want to sit down for this.” He said to Steve, indicating one of the newly empty chairs in the room. Steve grabbed the nearest one, pulling it close so they were sitting side-by-side.

“Okay, there’s no easy way to say this… Hopper might be alive. Joyce got a package from Russia with a ransom note. Some guy named Murray is flying in tomorrow to help her figure it out.”

Joyce gasped, the noise echoing in surround sound for Eddie as Steve did the same beside him.

“It’s real then?” She asked.

“I think so. You’re going to call the number tomorrow and the person who answers will tell you to fly to Alaska with some money. I don’t know any more than that. You called us once after you arrived, right before you went to meet with someone but we didn’t hear from you again. You said Hopper was being held in a Russian prison, and the guy who sent the ransom note was going to break him out.”

Steve went white as a sheet at the second mention of Russian involvement, and though he’d been thinking it would be smarter—easier, to keep some separation between them in this loop, Eddie couldn’t fight his instinct to reach out. He covered Steve’s hand that was resting on the surface of the desk with his own.

“I guess there’s nothing for me to do but follow the trail again.” Joyce said.

“But what if something happened, er, happens to you?” Steve asked.

“It’s Hopper." She said, as if that was an answer in itself. "I’m going to hang up so I can call the number Owens gave me. I’ll let you know what he says—and boys? Please don’t tell anyone else about this. Not until we know for sure.”

“Okay,” Steve mumbled, at the same time Eddie said, “of course.”

“Are you alright?” Eddie asked once they’d ended the call.

Steve was still staring lost in thought down at the phone, but at Eddie’s words he shook himself out of it. “Yeah, sorry. Just–”

“The Russians,” Eddie supplied, bobbing his head. “I know. I’m sorry, but I thought you deserved to know, and Joyce told you last time, so–”

“And then I told you?”

Eddie cleared his throat, abruptly taking his hand back as he leapt from his chair, heading for the door. “We should go, uh, check on the kids—make sure they’re not wrecking the place or anything.”

They wound up moving Eddie’s van into the garage. There was plenty of space, and it was such an obvious solution that he had to kick himself for not having thought to park it in there last time—for not having thought to hide it at all.

He’d just sort-of assumed that if Chrissy didn’t die, and he didn’t become a suspect in her murder, the whole Jason thing would go away.

He knew better now.

Though, maybe this round he’d get a break since they’d skipped the run-in at the trailer park.

Dustin and Mike took charge of making the looped recordings for the party members who needed them, and were just moving on to the b-side of Max’s custom ‘Running Up That Hill’ tape, when Lucas burst through the front door. He froze in the entrance to the living room, looking from one friend’s face to another, and, much like the last time, did a double take when he spotted Eddie and Chrissy.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but Jason has lost his mind. He thinks Eddie did something to Chrissy and now he, Andy, and a few of the other guys are out looking for him.”

“Oh, come on!” Eddie yelled, throwing his hands up. “He didn’t even see me this time!”

So much for getting a break from that asshole jock and his evangelical bullshit.

“O… kay," Lucas said, blinking at Eddie for a beat before continuing. “Someone saw her leave the school with you after the game and—” He trailed off, finally noticing the music playing and the tape recording set-up. “What’s going on?”

Steve and Erica stepped in to explain, taking him through to the kitchen to talk. He wasn’t sure it was for his benefit but Eddie was thankful anyway, he didn’t want to hear it again anymore than he wanted to re-tell it.

Not long after Lucas showed up, Nancy and Mike left to make their excuses at home for canceling Mike’s trip.

Everyone else was staying over, and Steve had already made them all call home so no parents would panic. Even Eddie left a message on his home answering machine for Wayne since he was at work. He’d have much rather heard his uncle’s voice again, but it was undoubtedly easier to lie to a recording than it was to the man himself.

Then it was time for bed.

Again, Robin offered to share the guest room with Chrissy, while Max and Erica called Steve’s parents room—and as the boys gathered up the spare pillows and blankets they'd be using in the living room, Steve gave Eddie—a look.

He knew where this was headed, and honestly he’d never been so conflicted. Of course he wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed with Steve after the terrible day he’d had, but that wasn’t where they were with each other anymore. And, in the interest of keeping some distance between them, to save himself future heartbreak even if it meant feeling a little pain right now, sharing a bed had to be where Eddie drew the line.

“I’ll stay down here with the boys.” Eddie said, before Steve could even make the offer. “They can share the big couch, I'll take the other one.”

“Oh.” Steve said, almost sounding disappointed. “Do you want something to sleep in at least?”

Eddie gulped, wondering what the odds were that Steve would give him the swim team top again if he said yes. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“Actually, I packed a bag this time, so I’m all set.”

After a visit to the garage to grab his bag from the van, Eddie changed into his own version of pajamas—an old ratty pair of faded black sweatpants and a cropped Iron Maiden t-shirt, so worn that the band’s logo was all but illegible. Lastly he took one of the pre-rolled joints from his stash and slipped out onto the patio through the kitchen’s sliding glass doors.

He sat cross-legged on his usual lounge chair, facing the pool and the woods beyond as he lit up. He took a long drag, and as he blew out a plume of smoke heard the sliding glass door open and close again behind him. He didn’t bother to hide what he was doing, though he probably should have. It could have been anyone coming out to look for him, Dustin or Mike maybe, but somehow he knew it wasn’t.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Steve said when he got close enough that Eddie could almost feel the heat coming off of his body. He shuffled his feet, hovering next to the chair. “I saw you out here through my window and I just… I wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

Eddie finally looked up, unprepared for the way seeing Steve in his usual blue flannel pajama bottoms and white shirt would make him feel like he was drowning. Coupled with the tousled hair and soft look in Steve’s eyes, it was almost more than he could handle.

So he focused on something else.

The headphones Steve wore loosely around his neck were quiet, the wheels of the tape unmoving inside the player that was hooked to the elastic band of his pants.

“You should really be using those.” Eddie said, sliding over on the chair and patting the empty spot next to him in invitation. “Or at least have it playing even if they’re off your ears.”

As Steve sat down Eddie took another long hit, halfheartedly offering the joint up when he was done. He didn’t know if Steve still smoked or not, knew he used to when he ran with Tommy and Carol but it wasn’t something they’d gotten to talking about before.

Steve accepted it, taking a drag like a pro and Eddie supposed that answered that question. He grinned despite himself.

“After all the shit you gave me earlier?” Eddie said, knocking their shoulders together.

Steve ducked his head. “I meant like mushrooms or something, I don't know. Weed doesn’t count.”

He passed the joint back and started fiddling with his walkman, popping the tape out, flipping it over, and hitting play.

“I didn’t even realize it had stopped.” Steve said absently, accepting the joint when Eddie passed it over again, their fingers brushing lightly. “You know I was thinking about that. What happens when we’re sleeping and the tape runs down?”

“I don’t know what Max or Chrissy did, but anytime I woke up I’d flip your tape over and restart it.” Eddie answered without thinking, catching what he gave away far too late to backtrack, blaming the weed for loosening his tongue.

Steve stilled, staring at him incredulously.

“You—did you stay with me last time? In my room, I mean?”

Eddie busied himself picking at a loose thread on his pants. He didn’t know what to say.

“Is that why you’re so uncomfortable with me? Did I do something wrong, or?” Steve asked when the silence had grown too heavy to manage.

“No, Steve.” Eddie shook his head. “God, why is it that you always think you’re the problem?”

“I’m… sorry?”

“No, Stevie. I’m sorry.” Eddie sighed, taking the offered joint back again. It was almost done, and he took one last hit from it before leaning down to stub it out on the concrete.

“Yes, I stayed with you before. We all sorta paired up to keep an eye on each other, and I guess you could say we got… close, over that time, but–”

“Oh! So, we were friends, but now I don’t remember and you’re not sure how to act around me. Is that it?” Steve guessed, and it was criminally adorable how proud of himself he was for figuring it out.

Almost figuring it out, that is, but he didn’t know that.

Eddie smiled, huffing a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s it exactly.”

The almost-admission served to break some of the ice between them. Steve relaxed a little, and Eddie found himself following suit.

They sat under the stars talking off and on for over an hour, and with each glance up at the sky Eddie was reminded of Steve’s childhood dream. He smiled, picturing a tiny baby Stevie standing in this very same backyard—looking up at the moon and daring to imagine himself going there one day.

He almost brought it up, more than once.

They chatted about nothing important or in particular—the kids, mostly, how they were adjusting to high school and things like that. Eddie told him what he knew, and in return Steve told him about middle school dances, and sneaking their shared brood into movies at the mall.

As much as it pained him to sit there, knowing that their every interaction meant much more to him than it did to Steve, he still found himself happy just to be in his presence.

Maybe that could be enough.

He could still be Steve’s friend, as long as he kept him at arm's length for now, and if they somehow managed to make it out alive—maybe then he could try to reclaim some of what was lost.

Eventually their slowing words turned into yawns, and Steve suggested they should go back inside and get some sleep. “Maybe we should stick together again.” He whispered, as they made their way through the darkened kitchen.

Eddie hesitated, he needed to maintain the boundary for his own sake, but he hadn’t considered Steve might be scared to be alone. “You’ve got your music now, just keep the tape going and you’ll be alright, I promise.”

“It’s not me I'm worried about.”

Oh.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Steve. In all this time, Vecna’s never come for me.”

Even more so than the first time they said goodnight, Steve looked like he wanted to argue, but ultimately he let it go. “If you’re sure.”

He couldn’t do this again. He would not allow himself to fall further when the future was so uncertain—when he still didn’t truly know, would never know, what their one shared kiss had really meant.

“I’m sure. Good night, Steve.”

“Good night.”

Eddie watched him climb the stairs, not walking away until Steve turned the corner and was out of sight.

It was better this way, he reminded himself, and he’d keep on reminding himself as many times as he had to—needing no more motivation to keep some separation than to recall Dustin’s trembling voice saying, he’s gone.

That was the sound Eddie carried with him as he curled up on the small couch, turned to face the back of it, and silently cried himself to sleep.

Chapter 8

Special thanks to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta, friend and cheerleader.

Reblogs are always appreciated and if you want to be tagged, just let me know! I'd be more than happy to do so 💜

Taglist: @hitlikehammers @pearynice @cranberrymoons @thoroughlycollected @blubblesandink @finntheehumaneater @brbsoulnomming @estrellami-1 @hellion-child @manda-panda-monium @spicysix @kikidoesfanfic @dreamwatch @lawrencebshoggoth @stillfullofshit @lil-gremlin-things @mamafaithful @klausinamarink

#steddie fanfic #time loop #pov eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #chrissy cunningham #robin buckley #dustin henderson #the party

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jade-kyo · 1 month

Text

RvB 20th rewatch: s10

An end of an era… god I love this season… I love this story

DELTA!!!!!!!!

CAROLINA BABYGIRL!!!!

“I think I just got dumped by Caboose… this is un-fucking-believable”

Washington commits identity theft

Wash and Carolina interaction my beloved

Also I feel like the animation really improved between seasons

“Let’s just say you know a lot of women with quick tempers… you got a fetish or something?” // “I guess yeah you could say… apparently…” Church a sub confirmed

Trocadero my beloved

Carolina my babygirl you will discover your lost silly soon don’t worry

I’m a fucking moron how have I never noticed that the ship in the junkyard was the staff of Charon

I mean I knew it was a part of Charon but I just never made the connection that it was THE staff of Charon

I love that Sarge is the one who vouches for Wash. Sarge character development my beloved.

OH THE PENIS JOKE THAT TOOK ME THREE REWATCHES TO REALIZE IT WAS A PENIS JOKE

WAIT THE DIALOGUES DIFFERENT

I SWEAR Wash says “yeah but yours is green” but in this version he says “yeah but yours is really shiny, so it looks more substantial”

I kept thinking some of the dialogue was different on the dvd version from what I was used to but I kept second guessing myself

THETA!!!!!!

Man sometimes the Director says things and I’m just like… that was a kind of Church thing to say my guy. Feral.

Carolina cares so much akahskshfusgjsgdkshdkd

“Don’t tell me how to lead my squad” bro the first time I watched this show I got SO MAD at Carolina, I straight up did not like her… man I was a dumb bitch

Theta falling off his skateboard is so cute omg

Carolina embrace your inner silly

“Usually I would agree with Simmons but in this case that would also cause me to agree with Grif therefore I will simply grunt ambiguously… *ambiguous grunt*” quoted line

Love that Tucker is the one who usually points out the difference between Alpha and Epsilon… taking notes

Also love how chill Tucker is about Church being multiple people

Wash is as silly as his straw

Why does he have so many FRUITS

I love Carolina and York fucking with Wash

Hey remember when I did that guess the fake fact poll and everyone thought there was no way Elijah Wood was in the show? Good times

Caboose messing with Church my beloved

“Friendenepanion” line quoted

God they establish so many parallels between Tex and Carolina

Rip CT

“How the hell am I supposed to trust a ragtag team of idiots when I couldn’t even trust the people closest to me” THATS WHY YOU CAN TRUST THEM!!!! BECAUSE THEYRE IDIOTS!!!!!!!! DONT WORRY BABYGIRL YOU WILL UNDERSTAND SOON!!!

G o d Yorkalina you will always be famous to me

Screaming crying throwing up

“I mean we are friends” // “… friends…” SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

AAAAHHHHH EPSILON AND CAROLINA MY BELOVED

THEYRE SO SILLY!!! THEY DESERVE TO BE SILLY!!!!!!

Wyomings mustache is the sexiest character

AGONY

The show: angst agony pain // me: giggling kicking my feet because I just love the show so damn much I can’t help but happy stim when I’m watching it even when it’s pain

It was so real of them to just have Carolina have this one sided beef with a copy of her dead mom. Absolutely insane. I love it.

“No because I’m pissed off!” That one line really made me love Tucker even more. I remember being floored by it and suddenly realizing that oh shit this is fr getting tense like- he’s ACTUALLY mad. Just such a good subtle character moment

So like was Sheila just… left in that crashed pelican… forever

York is such a cringefail king

“Thanks I won’t need it” THE PARALLELS

ALLISON

GOD CAROLINAS SCREAMS

Feral

DONUT!!!!!!!!!

DOC!!!!!!!!!!

Church being defensive of Carolina AGSKGDKSHSKD

Tex is very small compared to North

OMG ALPHA GETTING TORTURED AHSKHAKSHSKHSKSHSJSHSKHSKS POSSIBLY ONE OF MY FAVORITE SCENES!!!!!

Sarge continues to have the best character development

Wash’s implantation, Tex learning the truth, Allison reveal IM AKJSKAHSKHDKSJ F E R A L

The fact that the director was gonna send Carolina to find Tex is INSANE

“You and Wash are taking your relationship to the next level, I knew it the writing was all over the wall” Caboose was the first carwash shipper

SARGE YOU ARE SO INCREDIBLE

Fun fact: everyone walking out on Church and Carolina was the first scene that actually made me cry

TEX YOU ARE SO SEXY

AUAUUAGSJHSKSHSJ YORKALIN

Tex just wanted to save them… she just wanted to save Alpha and Carolina auuuuhjajahjshajsjkshdjsjjsh

GOODBYE

G O D THEYVE COME SO FAR I CANT AKDHAKHSKAHSKBS WORDS

NINE POINTS YA DIRTY WHORES!!!!!

“Cheesy forgiveness speech later” and I like to headcanon that they held Church to that

ROSES ARE RED!!!!

G o d Chex you were always doomed…. Agony

GOODBYE

I literally have no words for what the Carolina and Director and Church scene makes me feel so I will simply summarize

AHKSHAKDHKAHSKHDKDHKWHSJSHKSHSKDBKDHXKDHKSJSOSHKSHDJJDJDBSKSHJD

-8)39/719)2&:93$8hwkahaiydhajisJWJDIHSKSBSIDGEJJEJ$2)/9$2&2)?:$&:!$-828&:@JEBDHEIGWJAIWHKQUE

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAHHAHAHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH

“Better is good enough” I’m gonna be sick

Putting the full Allison video at the end of the credits was FOUL

I really wish I was better at putting my thoughts into words cause G O D does this show make me feel things. I unlock 57 new emotions every time I watch it… truly I love this show. Especially the freelancer storyline. There’s something really special about all of this… just beautiful.

#jadey speaks #rvb #red vs blue

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faithfound · 3 months

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I just want to thought dump about something rough for a moment because I feel it's important. Don't read ahead if you aren't in the right mindset to view discussion about suicide, please take care of yourselves. I see other Christians spouting their opinions about suicide & Hell & sin and it hurts my heart so deeply. My sister took her own life. She was struggling with a concoction of mental illnesses for many years, and in the end they led to the worst possible outcome. She meant the world to me- it's been five years since she left and the agony is still so fresh. I am confident in asserting that my sister is not in Hell. She was very ill, and she wasn't in the state of mind to make rational decisions. God knew this. And when she died, God greeted her and comforted her and embraced her with open arms. Of that, I am so very certain. God sees us in pain and weeps for us, he does not condemn us for our emotional hurt. My God did not send my sister to Hell for taking her own life. If you believe differrently, so be it. But just remember when you're talking about the sin of suicide and eternal damnation, people like me are hearing your every word. Sometimes your opinions just don't need to be shared. What are you achieving by spreading this line of thinking? If you want to think that she, and all others like her, are damned- then do it quietly. Say a prayer for those who have taken their lives, and for those who have lost their nearest and dearest to suicide instead.

#suicide #Christianity

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thatfanficstuff · 4 months

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Not About You - 35

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x ofc

Warnings: nope

Lucy woke slowly, blinking against the light in the room. Elijah sat on the edge of the bed beside her one of his hands holding hers. He didn’t bother with the lie of a smile as his gaze moved from her to where Damon sat behind her. “Please give us a moment.”

Damon kissed her temple before getting off the bed. “I’ll be right outside if you need me, baby.”

She nodded but didn’t turn to look at him. She couldn’t stand seeing that defeated expression on his face again.

Damon shut the door behind him as he left and Elijah frowned after him. There was no point in the younger vampire leaving the room if he was just going to stand in the hall. He’d be able to hear everything. Elijah also wasn’t going to ask Damon to get lost in his own home.

Lucy licked her lips and untangled her hand from Elijah’s to reach over and flip on the small box on the nightstand. She turned the volume all the way up and the sound of ocean waves filled the room. Elijah looked at her in surprise. “White noise machine. Works wonders.”

He smiled softly. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.” He removed a vial of what looked like blood from his pocket and showed it to her.

“What is that?”

“Niklaus’ blood. It is the only known cure for a vampire bitten by a werewolf. If it doesn’t work on you…” he trailed off, unwilling or unable to finish the thought. He cleared his throat. “There are some things you need to be aware of before you drink this.”

She studied him for a moment before nodding once. He wasn’t happy about whatever he needed to tell her.

He sighed and took her hand back in his. “As I’m sure you have gathered, Niklaus can be…difficult. His beginnings were unhappy. Our parents were cruel to him. I failed in protecting him as I should have. He was my younger brother. It was my job and I failed. He has a warped sense of right and wrong. Imagine an abused child with the rage issues of a werewolf and the heightened senses of a vampire. It’s usually not pleasant.”

Pain stabbed through her again and she hissed as she arched her back. Elijah gripped her hand more tightly and brushed her hair from her forehead. Once the wave of agony passed, he took the rag lying on the bedside table and wiped her face down.

“We can discuss this in detail later, right now I will give you the abbreviated version. That blood belongs to my evil hybrid brother but it is the best chance at saving you. I hadn’t talked to my brother since he confessed to dumping our siblings in the ocean. As you know, my intention was to lure him to Mystic falls using the doppelganger as the bait and kill him.” The muscle in his jaw worked as he clenched his teeth and took a breath. “I gave him Elena to save you. I gave him my chance for revenge, but that wasn’t enough for him.”

“What did he want?” she asked when he didn’t continue on his own.

“He gave me the blood with the understanding that if you drink it, you will meet with him when he comes to town and you will owe him three favors of his choosing.”

She blinked in surprise. “So I live, in theory anyway, but I will owe three unspecified favors to the evil Original hybrid?”

“That about sums it up, yes.”

Silence stretched as she thought, considering all the things the hybrid might ask her to do. “You gave him Elena?” Lucy wasn’t certain exactly what that meant. She didn’t care for the girl but wasn’t sure how she felt about someone else’s life being traded for her own.

He shook his head. “In a manner of speaking. I gave him her name and location. It puts him in control of the situation which I don’t care for, but it can’t be helped.”

She took the vial from him and turned it in the light before handing it back. “Being alive and tied to the hybrid is better than being dead. I haven’t been able to keep anything down, though. What if I just throw it back up?”

He hummed. “Damon had mentioned.” He opened his suit jacket and pulled a syringe from the inside pocket. “I came prepared. Let me see the wound.”

He sucked his brother’s blood into the needle before injecting it directly into the bite. She screamed through clenched teeth and he uttered a quiet apology. He laid the needle on the table but kept the neck of the shirt shifted so he could watch see the injury.

At first, Lucy felt nothing but slowly the itching and burning eased. It was almost as if someone spread something cooling over it.

A few moments later, Elijah sighed in relief. “It is healing.” He let go of her shirt and placed his hand on her chin to turn her attention back to him. “How are you feeling?”

She took a deep breath and did a quick mental inventory. “Better.” With a still trembling hand, she reached over and took the glass of water from the nightstand. She took a large swallow, closing her eyes in relief as it cooled her sore throat. When several minutes passed and it didn’t make a reappearance, she threw herself at Elijah and wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you, Elijah. Thank you so much.”

He returned her embrace and held her tightly. “You are welcome, little one. Though I fear you won’t be thanking me when you meet my brother.”

“We’ll deal with that when he gets here.” She pulled back to look at him. “Not a word about this to anyone, Elijah. I mean it.”

He nodded his head once. “You have my word.”

Elijah left via the window wanting to avoid the Salvatores’ questions for the time being. Lucy opened the door surprised to find the hallway empty. With a frown, she wiped herself down with a washcloth and changed her clothes not wanting to take the time to shower just yet. She was surprised Damon hadn’t already come back to check on her and wanted to find the reason for it. That meant searching him out, not just calling his name.

As she headed down the stairs and heard raised voices. The brothers were fighting. She headed toward the library as that appeared to be where the voices were coming from.

“It’s John Gilbert, Stefan. He tried to kill me or did we forget that already? He can’t be trusted.”

“I’m not saying he can, but you can’t just kill him,” Stefan tried to reason.

“Why is he here anyway?” Damon sounded more frustrated than angry.

“Caroline said Elena sent for him. He claims to know about the sacrifice. Bonnie found out the Martins are working for Elijah so they’re disregarding everything they were told by Luca. Apparently, Elena was under the impression we would do our best to save her because she’s Caroline’s friend.” Lucy’s lips twitched at the annoyed undertone in Stefan’s voice.

“I can’t talk about this anymore, Stefan. Lucy is upstairs possibly taking her last breath even as we speak. I couldn’t care less about the save Elena squad right now.”

Lucy opened the door just as he said those words and both brothers snapped their heads in her direction. Stefan smiled and Damon’s eyes widened. “Lucy,” he breathed. Then, before she could even take a step into the room, he was in front of her. His hands cradled her head and he looked her over before pressing his lips to hers. He pulled her against his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around her as he continued kissing her head. “Thank god.”

She looped her arms around his waist. “I’m okay, Day. ‘Lijah fixed me.”

“How?”

“Can’t tell you that. Not yet.”

“It doesn’t matter as long as you’re alright,” Stefan said as he laid a hand on her back and kissed her temple. “I really wasn’t looking forward to having to tell Caroline her bestie was gone.”

“Shut up, Stefan,” Lucy said, her voice muffled against her vampire’s chest. The brothers laughed and Stefan left the room. Damon lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist to keep balanced. She was struck again by how much she loved him.

Whatever the hybrid may ask of her, it was worth it for this.

#damon salvatore x ofc #damon salvatore x oc #damon salvatore fanfiction #vampire diaries fanfiction #series: not about you

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jovienna · 4 months

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my only ‘fanfic-esque’ claim to fame moment in my life was this one time where i interrupted an interaction between these two guys i went to high school with (it was a private catholic college, so yk how it goes) during a popular girl's 16th birthday party. my invitation to the party was due to a pure stroke of luck: i has been seated next to aforementioned popular girl in art class, and was in possession of an innate ability to constantly entertain others (because my appearance was less than averaged & i had to compensate in personality)

halfway through the party i started feel super uncomfortable and urgently needed to take a shit (as one does) so i asked the birthday girl, ‘heyyy where’s your water closet, i need to use it!!’ so she directs me towards the bathroom closer to the back of the house, and was far less crowded. so while the party raged on, i was skedaddling down to the back in sheer pain and agony and craving the sweet release of not death, but my bowels.

but when i approached the bathroom… i could see that the fan was on (like u know when u turn on the bathroom light and it makes that sound that goes along the lines of BRRRRRRRRRRR? yeah, that.) anyways i barely have to open the door (it was already ajar) and i assumed, ‘oh! somebody must have used it recently and forgot to the fan off!’ but no. no. i was wrong. inside the room were two guys from my maths class. aka two of the most homophobic shits i knew. they would say every slur under the sun and constantly picked on our effeminate male classmates and would act confused and personally offended when women would rather pick the bear. these guys were pinning each other to the bathroom wall and piss drunk. one guy was saying stuff like ‘thanks for being such . such a good friend’ & showering his neck in sloppy kisses. but the other was trying to push him off saying . ‘no you told me you wanted to stop this’.

and honestly at this point i didn't even care they were doing all this. i just cared that they were doing it in the bathroom bc i just really needed to shit. so i coughed and spoke up,, ‘can you guys take this somewhere else..? i need to use the bathroom..’

clearly embarrassed because i’d clearly interrupted something that i shouldn’t have… they left the bathroom without a word. with all things said and done, i FINALLY closed the bathroom door behind them and proceeded to take the biggest dump of my life. life changing. i think i lost half my body weight that night. whatever. it was 2021. we were all going through something

i never talked about that ‘incident’ with those boys. not that there was a chance for me to pull them aside without being ‘weird’ (i never dared to go anywhere near their ‘crowd’.), but what would i even say? ‘hey what the fuck was that in the bathroom at so-and-so’s party?’ (because sure, even though we’d known each other since preschool, it certainly wasn’t like that. and at the end of the day, it simply wasn’t my business.)

one of those guys moved away to a fancy all boys school in the big city to further his football career, and we never saw him again. i think he has a girlfriend now. i’ve since graduated and will never get the answers about that night.

#shoutout to vi who heard this story first #storytime #jo’s thoughts #personal #life ig #queued post

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shortpplfedup · 2 years

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Chapter 6: The Walk to Forget and Forgive

Gut punch after gut punch this episode as the focus moves squarely onto Jim for really the first time this whole series. Jim's been...not an enigma exactly, but he does keep things close. You get the sense of melancholy and a deep-rooted pain, but don't know exactly where it comes from, until now. Other things happen this episode, but it's mostly about how Jim internalises and responds to events more than the events themselves.

Before we get to Jim though, Li Ming going to see Heart's mom, apologising for sneaking him out, speaking frankly and openly with her about the Heart he knows, asking her to allow him to continue spending time with Heart despite his job with them being over...Jim doesn't quite see it but Li Ming has grown up. He can take responsibility for his actions, and he can ask for the things he wants, and what he wants is not to lose his connection with Heart, and for Heart not to lose the agency and community he's gained. For Jintana to agree, albeit with conditions, you can tell she's processing a lot but trying, finally, to do the right thing. I love that Li Ming didn't tell Heart that his mom allowed him to come over to his house, but instead told him to ask his mom and let her tell him yes herself. That's a little bit of healing that those two needed, and Li Ming saw that. And then Heart gives him his voice in return and...look I have something in my eye. Heart doesn't have to vocalise. Li Ming doesn't require him to, and he's never asked it of him, they can communicate just fine. But the joy Li Ming got from Heart allowing him to hear his voice was just sweet. It was special, something Heart did for him out of love and trust, and Li Ming understands that. And then their little New Year's celebration à deux, them taking their romance from understood to confirmed with that kiss, and their shy reactions afterward...perfection.

The headline this week is Jim finally dealing with the scars of his relationship with Beam, as we discover that Beam died in a tragic accident without them ever resolving Jim's discovery of his cheating. They had a fight about it, Jim dumped him, Beam left vowing to explain later, and then he was gone. And in the ensuing years, Jim's grief and guilt have simply consumed him. He's questioned himself, he's blamed himself, he's buried himself in what if's, and he's never faced up to what happened, not really. Jim is holding so many regrets inside him that Wen coming into his life has churned up. Wen's insistence on pulling Jim out of himself has ultimately been good for him. It's Wen who suggests that he try to meet with Beam's girlfriend, try to get some closure on the questions that have been swirling in him for the past four years. And you get the sense that once he's done that he takes the first deep breath that he has since that moment he identified Beam's body. 'We just fell in love with a selfish man'...Jim NEEDED to hear that. The way he loosens up after that lunch and allows himself to be affectionate with Wen, to hold his hand and embrace him and be playful, it's like he finally has an ounce of hope that maybe he's not cursed after all. He still won't answer Wen's question, as to whether he's part of Jim's family now, but you know the answer in his heart.

Also on the 'Jim clearing things up' tour: Gaipa. Poor sweet Gaipa, who just isn't the one Jim wants, and he finally has to tell him that. You could see from the moment Gaipa starts to talk about his mom and dad's love story that Jim knows where the conversation is going, and he starts steeling himself to let him down as gently as possible. When Gaipa finally just asks the question, Jim doesn't say anything except 'I'm sorry', but Gaipa gets the message. And then he returns the title deed, making it as clear as possible that there's no hope there. And man it's BRUTAL, watching Gaipa try and fail to hold back his tears while Jim sits there in agony that he's had to hurt him like this.

Alan isn't doing so hot. After insisting to Wen that he can separate personal from professional, he tells Jim exactly the opposite as he hands back his loan application and suggests he try another bank, a suggestion which Jim dismisses. And then drunk driving? Getting into an accident? Wen still being his next of kin? Wen feeling responsible and Jim agreeing that he should stay and take care of Alan? On top of stumbling upon Heart and Li Ming kissing? All this just as Jim returns from a moment of catharsis and feeling free, and you see his shoulders get lower and lower as the weight of his life piles back on after the brief respite.

Side Dishes

This ep is set at New Year which means everything since Alan crashed into the story and Li Ming started sneaking Heart out of the house has happened more or less inside a week. What a fucking week, no wonder Jim is stressed as hell.

Poor Gaipa, you just know he heard Wen moved in and thought it was now or never.

The way Jim responds to Wen, even as he tells himself and Wen that they can't be a thing...he's so in love. Holding himself back from stroking Wen's hair and then just giving in and letting himself have that was such a moment.

Jim sir that man is good at doing the dishes, Li Ming said so, why are you doing them?

I understand why Aof did an angle kiss with Heart and Li Ming, but it's still a smidge awkward.

Speaking of the kiss, I'm so glad Jim didn't ruin their moment. No matter what his complicated feelings about Li Ming's sexuality are, he let them have that.

Li Ming's mom Jam shows up next week and YES LET'S SQUARE THIS MOTHERFUCKING CIRCLE I'M READY.

Interesting throwaway (except is anything ever a throwaway in this show?) about Jam and Jim running away from home. We'll probably get some more on that when Jam shows up next week.

Another interesting 'throwaway': Saleng and Jim's conversation about being selfish when you're desperate. That's definitely about to come back around.

#moonlight chicken #midnight series: moonlight chicken #the moon is beautiful tonight #bl meta series

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toothpastecanyon · 6 months

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The Comfort of Agony, Chapter 7

For the first time in his eternal life, Alcor had been bound. He couldn't leave even if he wanted to... so it was just as well that he didn't want to leave, right? After all, this was what Mizar wanted.

He didn't know what she was so angry with him for, but he probably deserved it.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

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It was dark outside the store, but Piper swore she could feel the fluorescent lights beating down on her. She stood in line, shuffling slowly forwards until it was her turn. Dumping everything on the counter, she watched the cashier take a long look at her items before his gaze flitted up to her. The lights buzzed loud in the stretching silence - she tried for a smile.

“Hi,” she managed. “Uh, busy day, huh?”

“Hmph.” He grunted, and picked up a box of chalk. “You got a lot of these.”

“Yeah! Um - sidewalk party! We’re, uh, we’re all gonna draw on the sidewalk!”

“I see. Lot of candles, too.”

Piper laughed - it sounded way too loud. “Yeah… power outage? At my house?”

“Uh huh. And the sigil ink is for school, yeah? I hear that one all the time.”

“It’s… i-it’s, uh…” She looked at his raised eyebrow, and stretched her smile. “Look… I really need this.”

The man stayed still a moment longer… then, with a sigh and a shake of his head, he picked up the scanner. Beep, it went, and Piper tried to take a deep breath. She glanced down at the mirror in her purse, her heart pounding in her chest.

Beep. Beep. The man stuffed everything into two shopping bags and tapped his screen.

“Comes to, ah, one ninety seven, sixty six. Cash or card?”

“Card?” Piper blinked. “Oh, uh, I mean, card, yeah! Here you go - or wait, I scan it.”

After fumbling through the payment, she snatched up the bags, took her receipt, and hurried out of the store. The parking lot was dark, with glass crunching under her feet and the roar of cars speeding through the nearby highway. There was a shadowy figure smoking against the wall, and Piper tried not to look like she was walking too fast as she made a beeline for her car over at the gas station.

Once she was in, with all the doors locked, she tossed the bags onto the seat next to her and let out a huge breath.

“Oh, my stars,” she said, patting her pockets for her keys. “He totally knew what I was buying that stuff for. Do you think he’s gonna call the cops on me?”

“Probably not?” Alcor made a face. “He probably wouldn’t have sold it to you in the first place, but, uh… we should probably go. Quickly. Piper?”

“I’m working on it, where’s my- oh! In my hand!” A nervous laugh as she put her keys in the ignition. “Sorry, uh… getting a little tired, I think. Been a long day.”

“I know. We’ll be stopping for the night soon, though.” Alcor strained to peek over the dashboard. “We passed a motel a couple minutes ago, right? If you drive back that way, that’s probably the closest one.”

“Yeah,” Piper said, a little distracted as she pulled out of the parking lot. “Yeah, that’s… I’ll do that.”

It was quiet as she accelerated down the ramp, and merged back into the highway. The road stretched out endlessly ahead of her, the streetlights passed her by one by one by one; stars, she felt like she’d been driving for a lifetime. She shifted a little in her seat, rolled her shoulders, rubbed her eyes. Glanced over at Alcor, and made a face.

“So, uh,” she started, if only to break the silence. A few seconds passed as she thought of how to follow it up. “I still don’t get it. We’re summoning demons… to bind an angel?”

“Exorcise an angel, binding’s just a part of that.”

“Uh, okay?”

“It’s, uh, different.” Alcor took one look at her expression, and sighed. “I get it, this is way out of your comfort zone. But I promise, this is the safest way I can think of to get the materials. We’re summoning weak demons with strong binding circles, and we’re not even making deals with them, okay?”

“Okay…” Piper turned the wheel as she took a gentle turn. “Then, uh, what are we doing with them?”

“Nothing. We don’t need them - we need their chalk.”

“Chalk?”

She glanced at the shopping bag full of chalk they’d already bought, and he seemed to anticipate her question. “Chalk from a used summoning circle - it’s imbued with a low level of demonic essence. Once we get enough of it, we should be able to use it to trap the angel like normal chalk can be used to trap demons. We’ll need more complicated stuff later, but it can wait for when you’re not exhausted.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Piper said, slowly. “But why doesn’t normal chalk work?”

“It’s, uh, complicated.” A short laugh. “But basically, angels aren’t drawn to the physical world the same way demons are, so they can’t be bound in the same way. It’s not exactly harder, but the materials for it are different - not exactly stuff you can just buy in a store.”

“Okay…”

“The simplest way to repel an angel is with demonic essence. That’s why we’re doing this tonight instead of waiting for tomorrow - summon a few demons in your motel room and he won’t come near. You can sleep easy!”

“Sleep easy,” Piper echoed, rubbing her eyes. “I hope so.”

She was starting to feel warm sitting back in her seat; she shifted around again, turned on the AC and blasted it right at her face. She kept her eyes fixed on each road sign as it came out of the black and sped past her, waiting for that motel. Come on, she thought, any minute now…

She was so focused on the road ahead, she didn’t notice the dark figure of a car merging onto the highway and smoothly pulling up behind her. The lights came on in an instant; Piper jumped in her seat at the sound of a siren, and then her stomach dropped at the flashing blue and red lighting up her dashboard.

“Oh, shoot!” Piper gripped the steering wheel; she realised she’d swerved a bit out of the lane and quickly corrected. “Shooot… Alcor? What do we do?”

“The cops - dammit, this is the last thing we need.” Alcor strained to look out of the side mirror. “Uh, stay… stay calm? Maybe he’s pulling someone else over?”

The highway was empty but for the two of them; Piper made a face. “I don’t think he is.”

She flicked on her signal and started slowing down; Alcor blinked. “You’re pulling over?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“You can’t do that!”

“What do you mean I can’t do that?”

“You’re a missing person! He probably recognised your car!”

“Maybe he’s just here for the demonology stuff?” Piper eyed the plastic bags. “We could hide those somewhere, right?”

“It doesn’t matter where you hide it if he runs your plates, Piper!” Alcor watched in panic as they kept slowing down - he banged on the glass. “Piper! Piper, he’s gonna take you into custody! Piper-”

“What am I supposed to do?!” She snapped. “Run from the cops? I’m in a fucking Camry, Alcor!”

Alcor didn’t respond to that. Piper took a few short breaths as she turned onto the shoulder; her eyes were burning, and she rubbed them.

“It’ll be - it’ll be fine, okay?” She came to a stop, grabbed the plastic bags, and opened her glovebox. “We just act natural, right?”

“Piper-”

“We just act natural.” She tried closing the glovebox; she forced it up a few times as the plastic bags bulged. “It’s not like they can arrest me, right? I haven’t done anything wrong - I’m the one who got attacked! They can’t arrest me for getting attacked, right!”

“Piper-”

“Agh, stupid little- this is just perfect!” She slammed the glovebox one more time, and watched through blurring eyes as everything came tumbling out onto the floor. “What am I supposed to do?! I’m screwed! I’m screwed!”

Alcor spoke quietly. “You’re not screwed.” He said. “It’s gonna be okay, okay? Take a deep breath.”

Piper took in a shuddering breath, and pressed her hands to her face as she let it out. “I’m so fucking tired.”

“I know. I’m sorry. We’ll be on the road soon, okay?” When she glanced over at him, she found a reassuring smile on his face. “Once this is over, we’ll be at the motel, and you’ll be able to go to sleep. You’ve done a traffic stop before, right?”

“...Yeah.” Another deep breath, in, and out, and then she set her jaw. She looked behind her, at the blinding white headlights shining through her back window, then over to the glovebox again. “Okay. License and registration.”

“Yeah!” Alcor watched her dig through the papers that had spilled into the footwell. “I’ll dim myself, too. I’ll look like a normal mirror, but I can keep an eye on things, okay?”

“Okay.” Piper heard footsteps just as she found her registration; she sat up, and put her hands on the wheel. “Okay, okay.” Glancing over at the mirror, she found it blank, just as he said. Chalk boxes were still strewn around the footwell, but there was nothing she could do about them now - hopefully he wouldn’t notice. Nothing to do about it now.

“Okay, okay, okay.”

She could feel her heart hammering in her chest as a bright light came up to her window. She couldn’t see the figure well behind the flashlight; but a hand reached out and knocked on the glass, and she rolled it down.

“Uh, hi officer, I just-”

Click. Piper paused at a strange noise… and then froze as the cold, hard barrel of a gun pressed itself against her temple.

“Don’t move,” said Mag’s voice with an eerie echo, and Piper didn’t dare to breathe. From the corner of her eye, she could see the mirror light up again, could see a furious brickwork demon come roaring into view.

“Y̵̛̘̼͛̿͋̊̏̈͘ö̵͇͕͕̩̹͉́͌́̀̄̀͌̽̄͘͘͜͠ȕ̶̮̦͒͒͆̐͐̔̈̚,” Alcor snarled as the angel put away the flashlight; the pure glow of his gaze cast its own light into the car.

“Ȋ̸k̷͖o̷̮ẅ̸̘́w̴h̷̠̓ã̴̲t̵̞́ ỵ̵̆ȏ̷̠u ̷̻͠d̴͚͗ĭ̸̼d. Ŷ̸̈́͊o̴̰͛̂u̸̬̱̮̇̔̐ t̴̑̈́̈͐̀̎u̵̾̈͌͋r̶̛̯͋̅̑͌̍̈́ņ̷͓̓͐̀͘̕͠͠e̶͐d h̷̀è̷r̸͂ ̵͔̃͆̽͌̾͜͠͝ Ä̴̝͇̼̮̋̋͝G̷̡̱̜̩̮̥̼̍̾̍͆͋̏Ā̴̠̽̌̈́Í̵̡̥̙̱̯͕̪̃̒͊̀̃͜N̸̗͚̜̱̤̈́Ś̶̩̻͖̺́͆̍̎̀̒Ṯ̸̨̻͍̜̹̀͒͌͗̚͜ ̵̘̼̾̃̈́̀͑̍͆Ṁ̸̪̟̍̈́̿̏̏͘̚E̶̺̝̝̺̮͕̎̅! W̷̝̲͎̥̮̪̄͒H̷̨̞͍̜͓͒̆͋̆́̈́͐͗̽̈́͋̓̈́̽̄̚ͅE̵̡̧̨̱̜͎̟̠͓̪̯̓̋͐̈́̊̂̔̀N̶̡̨̢̧̥͙̪̝̘͇̹͈̜͕̓̉̔̽̅̌̃̋͐͂̕͠ ̶̢̛̬̤̪́̈́͋̔̍̇̚͝Ḯ̵̡̩̖̺̘̩͇̞̖̣̣͐͋͑̌̐͊́̀̌̊͌̕͜͝͝ ̵̨̡̨̫̤̠̯͈̫̥̩̈́̓̒͌͜ͅͅG̶̨̭̣̤̩̼̣̩̘̹̥̼̫͊͆̋͒̈̾E̵̡̡̹̞͈̫͕̭̥͙͈̩̠̰̟͗̀̊͂̄̅̄̐͆̅͂̓̀̏̒̚͠ͅT̸̡͔͉̥̂̍̊ ̵̨̡̣͈̦̻̺̽͑̐̃͗̑̅̕͘͝Ǫ̵̨̛̪͙̫̰̤̻̟̩̰͕̍͐͛͌̈̉̃͂͆͜͝U̴̮͎̻̬̝̙̟̪͕̼͇̩̱̱̗̐̎̓̃̏͒̈͑ͅͅT̴̨̧̤͚̲̩̗͖̞͉̼̉̂̒́́͜ ̸̢̱̞̜͉̈́̿͛͊̀̊͛͛́̒̋͝Ȫ̸̱̲̪̻͈̩̫͙̮̥̠̼͐̓͘ͅF̸̧̝̼̣̮̼̾͊͗̂̎̔̇̈̄̄͜͝ͅͅ ̴̧̡̛͈͖̞̞͙̙͓̂͆͒̂̊ͅH̵̛̱͖̒̈̔͗̏͆̄̔̔̿̏̀̈́̚̚̚Ȩ̸̢̛̥͈̳̠̦̫̩̹̙̩̼̅̒̔̅̉̇Ŗ̶̛͈͈̯͖͇̖͓̟̼͈̖͒͜E̸̢̙̱̯͙̙̣̘̤̟̹̲͊̓̉͋̈̈̿͗̏̌̀̿̈́̚͜͝ ̴͖̹̜̣͚̋̈́̌̓̍̐̈̀͗̈́̕̕İ̷̙̲̺͌͛̌̋͐͘ ̸̡̨̧̝͈̹̠̦̪̞̗͈̱̪̟͇̾̉́̈̅̄̎̓̽͒̒̓̕͝͝ͅẀ̸̢͍̞͇̻̙̱̳̃̑̔͆͛̈́̔́̈́̎̚I̸͈͖̘̬̲̥̮͊͑͂͊̍̈̔͂̐̉̔̓̓͜Ĺ̶̜̯͉̪̗͕̘̳̺͙͖̊̊͐͐͒̃͗̋͊̀̿͠͝L̷̢̡͖̞̯͇̳͔̻̤̜̖̤̈́̑̒̏̉̏̉͂͘͘͝ ̸̨̡̛͓̦̳̮̺̦͉͈̘̥̓̅͂̌̓̑͑̅̓̍͠͝T̸̨̨͎͇̮͓̰̖͖̙̖̟͗̾̂ͅE̶̡̧̪̗̿A̴̢̮̺̟̭̺̝͇̲̫͔̓̒̔̅̀̅͒̄̉̇̄̿͘͝Ȑ̷̢͚̳̳͍̖̱͕̺͔̆̈́̍͋̌̃́͛͊̌̿͛̀ͅ ̴͖̋̂͌̀́̅͗̑̕Y̴̛̛̞̬̺̞̠̩͉̹̜͎̟̆̈́̿͆͑͘͜Ò̵̧̡̡͈̹̮̩͊̿͆̀́̃̊̚Ǘ̷̡̧̜̤̟͓̞̼̮̦͖͖͓̗͔̯͒́̎̽̓̏̊̀̈ ̶̢̧͙̞͉̺̱͎̙͔̠̟̲̹̠̼͆͌̾̎̈̊̅̽F̴̡̦͉̦̠͖̭̹̘̥̉̈͑̌̑̌͜͝ͅR̸̞̗̫̒͠Ȯ̴̙̳̙̽̅̾̇̐͂̈́͗̈͌͛̈̋͘̚͝M̶̢̡̨̠͎̬͉̺͓͕͚̖̮̩̗̖̒̀̂ ̸̧̢̪̞͈͍͖̠̞̱̙͉̹̳̔̊̊̈́͘L̵̢̨̡̠͉̪̼̣̲͖̜̭̍͛̔̔͆̏̅͑̋͋̒̐̊̅̀͜I̶̢̨̲̼̤̭̘͖̭̼̻̲̘̥̰̋̈́͆̉̂Ṃ̸̡̢̖̲͎̱͍̮͓̱͓̰͓̆̈́̂̿̽͆̏̔̇͐͜͜ͅB̸̧̧̢̛̛̬͖̭̖͚̥̣̖̞͖̫͙̪͐̇͐̽̀͂̈͋͆͂͑͌͜ ̵̡̛̳̲͓̟̩͕̏̄̏̽̐̌͑̾̍T̵̯̗̝̘̬̙̐̈́̆̿̀̀̈́̀͒́̄̚͝O̴̼̯̊͐̅̌͛͘ ̶̨̛͚̘͎͉͛̊̍̔͒́̔̅̒̈́L̴̞̩̟̟̹͈̞̼̬̞̝͉̻̳͕̝͑̽̏̔͆̈́̾͒̓̽͘͘̕ͅI̷̡̳̜̬̠͈̭̥̥̙͖͚̫͔͌̄͐͐̃̆͋͜M̴͓̱̙̤̼̮͍͓͗͐̚͠B̶̢̲̖͙͕̊͛̇̐̀,̴̣̲͖͎̳͓̣̊̈́̽͗̂́̂͋̍́̾̈́̾ͅ ̶̞̟͖́̐̔̑Ǎ̷̛̜̻̥͚̲̫̲̩̥̗̘̩̳͇͍̇̂̈́̋͋̾̈́̕N̸̜͔͔͓̼̘̱͚̼͙̈̐̂̈̅͜͜G̶̻̘͖͙̣̃E̷̺͇̳̜̗̼͓̙̥̼̯̟̱̎͑͌͛̆̚͝͝͝L̷̰͓͛̅͊̏͆̓̋ͅ!̵̛̼̗̮͖̩͖̙̟̊͆̂͌̏̈͑̓͑̒̓͊̋͆̒͜͠ ̸̙͓̺͈͙̦͎̝̖̱͆̈́͜I̴̛̜͈͚̞̪͔͚͙̬͈̯͌͛͂́̉̈́̿́̊̈̚͝ ̸̡̧̨̫̞͈̥̳̠̰̰͕̙͚̺̈̊͗͑̇̾͊̍̈́̈́̾̑̄͛͝W̶̢̳͙̝͍͕̱͖̌̓͐̽̀̈́̕I̴̠̹͐̈́̐̎͑̓͐̈́̈́̚͝͝L̴̪̩̤͓̣̿͜L̷̢̛͉̪͍̾̿̀͊̏̓̌͊͊͗̇ ̸̮̫̺͙̹͉͖̺̻͙̤̙̜͖̋̂͐͛͒͊̅̅̐͝M̵̻̩̱̥̪̩͉̳͑̽͒̈́̅̏͊̔ͅA̸͓̱͇̫͛̂͊̑̃Ḱ̵̛͍̺͚̋͆̂̈́̀͗͑́̃̈́̒̚͝E̷̡͎͔͎̭̓̒́̕ ̵̪̠̘̿̆̀͂̈́̓̂͛͐̿͌̉̃͆̚͜Ỳ̸̢̛̼͕͈͙̟̩͓̼̣͇̹̀͛̍̔͑͆͊͋̑̚͜Ớ̷̧̠̟̺̘̜̖̼̫͇͔̣̣̦̫̥̝̏̈́͆̽́̔̊̿͆̂̍̕̕͠͝U̷̔́͒ͅ ̴̯͍͌̆͐̇̌͗͗͐̃̽̽Ẅ̷̧̢̢͔͖̳̤̳̜̦̖̝̱̺͖̲͔́̍̆̔̽I̶̛̩̫͈͍̬̤̗̹̽̚Ş̶̧̠̠̬̝̪̹͔̣̱͖̱̋̄̑́͝H̷͎̩͍͔̥̫̗̓̍̈́̄̉̉͂̀̅̏̾͗͐̓͜͝ͅ ̵̨̢͚̻̬̤̝̤̠̰̦̞̥̭̻͂̅̽̾̌͜͜Y̸̧̙̰͍̣̹͍̏̓̓͆͗̊̈́̇̈́̄̊̒͜͠Ō̵̞͔͈̜͙̂̅̅̂͗̏̀̂̑̕U̴̞͍͕̗̣͋̊̒͌͂̓̀̃̓͘ ̵̱͖͖̰͕̦̰̪͔̺̜̖̤̮̝̊̅̀̍͋̋̒̊̈́̋̔̓̕H̸̨̧̨̛̭̼̠̮̣̝̬̟̱̭͐̋̋̈͆̉̎͘̚ͅĄ̷̙̗͓̱̘̼̗͈̪̣͔̓͊̈̊̽̄̋̅D̵̠̝̗̖̱͓̋ ̵͕̞̪̎̐͛̒̀̋́̄̑̓̾͝͝N̵̛̛͙̮͙̠̗̲̥̙̬̻͔̱̘͍̐͛̿̾̎͗̅̎̎̎̈̃͝͝Ȇ̸̙͍̺̠̻̙̫͖̿̓͗̇̀̌̕͜ͅṼ̵̢̢̘̯̘̻̫̞̲͍̳̥͚̬̟͗͊E̸̘͚̣̲̱̭̪̥̱̗̔͌́̚͠͝͝͝͝R̸̘̜͇̈́͛̒ ̴̢̧͉̟̹͉̙͉͙̣͔̥͇͖̭̇̇̐̔̅͂̃̓͛̔̇͘̚͘͝͝͝B̵͇̬̮͚̟̤̹͕͙̫͒̀̐̃̏̽͊̇̕Ē̴̢̛͋̑̀̎̉̈́́͌͐̓͆̕͠͠Ę̵͍̟̭̬͋̒̔̇͝N̴̨̢̨̳̜̥͖̖̫͍̯̔̐̈́̉̋̓͗͐͑̊͑̑̅̀͆̑͊ ̴̠̟̖͓̞̲̊̆̈͗͛͂̄̌͑̔͘̕͘C̵̰̝̒̒̄̅̕R̵͕͇͓̫̭̘̯̦̙͖̱̱̬̙͑̋̿̓͑̌̌̈́̀͜͠͝E̸̲̰̰͙̼̟̼̥͂̅̽̋͌͗̋̐͜͝A̵̭̥͍͐͗̈́̐͋͝͝T̷̝̼̼͍̰̞͇̩̬̩̣͛̎̍̋͛̆̈̍̕͘ͅE̶̡̡͎̩̼͙͕̟̲̔̒̌̋̀̋͋̇́͋̆͗̽̌̋̕̕D̵̡̨̮̯̱̠͎̣̟̘̥̙͈͙̰́̇̊̓̍̏̔́̚ͅͅ!̶̛̤͙̖̌́̈́̌̌̐́̓̈́̿̕͘ ̸̧͕̫̺̠̣̘̥̫͖̹̐͌̊́̔͜I̷̺̼̪̲̥̣̘̎̾̇̿̄͐͘ ̴̫͔́̋͒̃W̵̺̊͐́͆̀̋̍̚͘I̷̛͓̝͓̖̤̬͕̣̙͚̊̆̒̑̇͐L̷͎̎͂̀͊̔̆̍͋͋̍̂̂̃̚͠͠Ľ̵̲̳͙͔̖̍̑̓̽̔̕͝͠ ̴̨͕̙̦̳̟͕̟̱̮̲̫̀̏̃̆̕͜͝͠H̶̟̥̤̖̐̓́̎͛͠͝ͅȖ̶̺̙͍̹͓̝͙̦̔̈͑́̋͝ͅǸ̷̹̼̪͎̤̞͓̝̦̰̿̍̈́͗͌͒̍̕̕Ţ̵̨̤͚̬̖̮̈́͊͐́̽̈́́̀̄̕͜͠͝͠͠ ̶̡͕̤̝̫͚̝̮͕͕͋̀̄͂̈̒ͅY̴͔͉̞͌̅̅̀̃͋̂̐͝͝O̴̢͑̉̒̽̒̍̿̌̌̇͛͆̌͠U̷̢̢̟̖͕͓̱̘̘̝̘̱͋̓͂̎̊̊͒̓̑̏̍͒͜ ̴͙̰̜̘͙̭̪͔̱̞̔͋̒͌́͛̂̈́͋̄́̐͗̕͜D̶̯̖̺̃́̈́̏́̈́͊͗̐͑̒̐̐̿̃͘͝O̵̧̳̟̜̳̞̐̐͋͊̈̒̇́͗̀̎͘͠͠W̸̧̟̱̹͈͇̰͔͈̥̠͔͔̔̐͌̈͗̓̀̈́̋̒͒̕͜͝͠͝Ṋ̴͕̩͌͋̒̅̚ ̶̧̛̩̝͎̗̘̊̐͒̂̃̍́͆́͝T̷̢̰̗̫͙̥͎̱͉͖͉̿͜͜ͅƠ̵͍̓̀̆̓̇̆͊̿͑̂̾̚̚͠͝ ̸̺̂͋̀Ț̶̛̠̰͈͕̗̗͚̭̜̈͐͋̈́͐͒̀̈́͘ͅH̸̛̻͙͚̱̪͖͚͚̟̾̈̓͆̇͌̍̎̊̍͝͝ͅÊ̶̦̝͖̪͖̗̻͚̼̥̓ ̵̧̮̻͚͚̪͛̊́͒̃̅͑͐̈̅͊͗̈́͝Ě̶̢̝̳̟̬̫͚̗͓̖̱̮̳̳͓̑̒̓̋̽̈́N̶̢̪͚̣͓͎͇̪͕͉̗̏̀̈́̑̂͑͘͝D̸̛̛̛͇̈̾̍̑̽̀̐̏̀͒̓͘͝S̴̡̨̡̛͕̰̼̠͉͇̗̥͇͖̳̈̽͌̒͗̎̾̈̒̇͊̋͝ ̸̲͈͎̄́̉̋̎̂̈́͘͘͠͝Ǫ̵͚̬̮͉̻̙̭̦̠̘̞̦̉ͅͅF̴̢̧̫̤̘͚͚̟̊͗͗̈́̓͛̀͜ ̶͚̲̲̓̏̀̂͛͆Ţ̴͙̦̞͇͔̹͎̝̲̳͖̗̳̲̇̔̾̊H̴̡̻̺͖̘͈̩̭̦̤̪̱̭̭̙͇̿̂̉Ę̶̛͖̱͎̜͉̗͔̗̱̜̭͛͑̏̈́͛̎̈͛̐̋̔ ̴͍̟̘͈̩̞̩̄͒̋͊̍͑͋͆̊͒̆̋͒̓̈́̚E̵̘͗̃́̌͂A̴͍̳̩̪͖̠̭̼͔͍̳͐͗͝ͅŖ̵̪̙͔̲̱̀͋̒̾Ţ̸̨̛̫̬͕̾͂͆͐̈́̔̚̚͘͝H̴͓͍̗͗̾̈́̀,̴̧̼͕̪̦̘͚̦̺̹̼͈̣́̂̓̔̒̈́͝ ̶͖̺̈̇̈́̐̊͑̚̕

Piper squeezed her eyes tight as Alcor descended into a furious static - she could smell the burnt plastic of the car seat, could feel his words tearing at her eardrums. And the gun to her head… Oh, god, she thought. Oh, god, oh god, oh god. This couldn’t be real. She was dreaming. Please let her be dreaming.

But when Alcor’s fury finally died down, the gun pressed harder.

“Open your eyes.” Mag’s voice was flat. Emotionless. “Look at me.”

Her heart was beating like a rabbit. She couldn't get enough air in her lungs. Oh god oh god oh god-

“Look at me or die.”

Those icy words cut through her panic, and she opened her eyes, looked into the pure white light of the angel’s gaze. Mag’s face was completely obscured by the brightness; all she could see of him was the tattered orange jumpsuit on the arm holding the gun. A terrified whimper escaped her lips; she wanted to cover her mouth, but she didn’t dare move.

The angel stared at her for a moment, its alien gaze raking down her form. Then it spoke again.

“This is the end of the chase.” It said. “I let the air out of your tires. I cut your brake lines. I have total control, and I will kill you the second you step out of line. Do you understand?”

Piper could feel a sob welling up her throat. She just nodded.

“This is how you survive. I will tell you exactly what I want you to do, and you will do it immediately. Look at me. Do you understand?”

Piper looked at it, looked at those terrible eyes. And as she did, she realised she could see just the barest hint of something underneath catching its glow; she could see Mag’s lips, twisted up into a garish smile.

A smile. It was enjoying this.

“Do you understand?”

Piper swallowed back the bile rising in her throat, and nodded. From the corner of her eye, she could see something move in the mirror.

“Piper…” Alcor started - but what could he say? The barrel of the gun pressed ever harder against her temple, and he fell silent.

“The plastic bags.” said the angel. “Wrap them around the mirror, but do not touch it. If you touch it, I will kill you.”

Piper was terrified - terrified of the angel, and terrified of a hot, reckless anger building in her chest. Calm down, she thought. Don’t get yourself killed, she told herself.

(Like it’s not going to kill you anyway, it whispered back. You’re just another Scarlett.)

“Do you understand?”

Piper struggled to look at those eyes. She bit her lip, and nodded.

“Good. Do it now.”

The barrel pulled back a fraction, and Piper worked quickly. She dumped everything out of the plastic bag, spread it over the mirror, and turned it inside out to fit it in. Alcor watched her worriedly.

“Piper?”

The handle was still sticking out. Piper emptied the other bag, and pulled it tight over the handle. The plastic bulged a bit at the point; she picked it up, and looked back at the angel.

“Good,” it said, those eyes moving as it nodded. The gun was still pointed right at her head. “You may redeem yourself yet, child.”

(Redeem herself, snarled a voice inside of her. The fucking audacity.)

“Now hand it over, and I will let you go.”

“Piper?” Alcor’s voice was high and panicked as she started to move. “Wait, Piper, you can’t! Please, he’ll kill you, he’s lying! Piper, please!”

Piper paid no attention. The plastic crinkled as she presented the mirror to him, handle first.

“Piper, think of your Dad! Think of Mag!” A hand was coming forwards, reaching for the mirror. “Remember what he did to Scarlett, you can’t hand me over! Piper!”

Piper held the mirror steady as the hand came forwards, forwards, milliseconds passing like minutes as the blood pounded in her ears. She waited, waited until the hand was right over the mirror, waited until the fingers were curling around the covered handle and take him away from her forever - and then she moved. In the blink of an eye her hand tightened on a fistful of the plastic bag and she wrenched it back with all her strength; the bare handle pierced through the bottom of the bag just as the angel’s hand grasped it.

Demonic essence. For a terrifying instant, Piper thought it hadn’t worked; he didn’t burn, but after a moment his whole body tensed up like he’d touched a live wire. He stumbled back with a strangled yelp, tearing the mirror from her hands and dropping it on the tarmac as his hands moved up to grasp his head.

Piper didn’t want to get out of the car, but she had to; she opened the door quickly, scurried over to the mirror, picked it up, and rose to her feet just as-

“Piper?”

Mag’s voice. Mag’s voice, and when Piper looked up at him she saw his eyes, wide and confused, shining only dimly from the light of the moon.

“What…?” He blinked a few times, frowning as he tried to make sense of the situation. His arm was still extended, and the confusion shifted to a growing horror as he realised he was holding a gun, pointing it right at her. “Piper? I don’t- agh!”

His eyes flashed, and he dropped the gun and went down to his knees. Piper stood there frozen, but she could feel a spike of urgency from the mirror; Alcor’s presence was pooling into her whole body, not taking over yet but standing ready.

“We’ve got to go,” he said. “Now.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. She bolted towards her car, jammed herself into her front seat, turned the ignition and felt it roar to life.

She stomped the accelerator, and the car started going; but only at a crawl. The engine revved loudly - the dial went into the red - but it struggled to pick up speed.

“Piper!”

“I’m going!” The car shuddered as she turned it back to the highway. “Something’s wrong with it, I don’t know-”

A hand slammed down onto the side of the window. Piper caught a glimpse of furious white; a gun aimed right for her face, but she made it onto the tarmac and picked up a burst of speed. BANG! Her ears rang, her windscreen shattered, and the angel was dragged off its feet, hanging onto the door by his fingertips as they made it to fifteen miles an hour.

“Oh, my god.” Piper said, but she couldn’t hear her own voice through the ringing. She glanced to the side and saw him still hanging on as they broke twenty. “Oh, my god!”

His hand was over the open windshield; she tried to roll it up, but he was too heavy for the motor. Twenty five, and the whole car was shaking and juddering - she didn’t know how much longer it was going to run. They needed to get away from him before it gave out.

Alcor was saying something. She couldn’t make out his words, but it made her look down at the mirror. She grasped it firmly, raised it up above her head, and brought the edge down hard on his fingers. They slipped but held; there was a cry of pain, and another BANG that felt like it was tearing right through her eardrums. She cringed as she raised the mirror again, and brought it down with all her strength.

This time, the angel was dislodged; Piper felt the car pull hard to the left as the weight fell off the side. She struggled to correct it - nothing happened when she tried to brake, but she had just enough room to turn away from the guardrails and right herself.

And there she was. Alive. She stared forwards, eyes wide, chest heaving, heart hammering in her chest. Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel. The whole car was shaking; she could see broken glass from the windshield shuddering off the dashboard and falling onto her lap. The display was a flashing mess of warning signs.

She sat there for a moment, stunned. A sign passed them: COZY JOE’S CHEAP MOTELS - 5 MILES

A blink, and then a blink again.

Piper stayed there frozen for another moment, and then reached forwards, and turned on her hazards.

#transcendence au #toothwrites #alcor the dreambender #mizar #Magnus Wright #I added so much zalgo in this chapter I hit the character limit lol

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ilooklikeaburntchickenugget · 2 years

Text

All Too Well

A/N: I’ve had the begging of this story in my drafts for a while, and now I finally took time to finish it. Yay! I hope y’all enjoy, and if you couldn’t already tell, it’s based on All Too Well, the now very iconic Taylor Swift song Pairing: Gerard x Singer!F!Reader Word count: 6,155 words Warnings: Lots of angst, emotions in general, good old swearing. Also loosely proof-read, so keep that in mind.

Men sucked.

It was one of the many lessons you had gathered over your years of being on Earth, and you at this point were on the verge of giving up. Men were just intolerable sometimes, and nasty, and just... ugh. Bad.

Especially... well you hated to say it, but Gerard Way. He was supposed to be the super nice, sweet, nerdy guy, right? Wrong. He was a complete dick.

You guys dated for a year and a half and you swore nearly on your life that he was your soulmate. You loved him with every bone in your being, every breath you took was his. And then he fucking dumped you. Like it was nothing,

You weren’t even sure why, there was absolutely no lead up. You guys hadn’t fought anytime near the breakup, in fact just the week before you had gone out on a date with him at a super nice little romantic restaurant and the entire night was filled with nothing but laughter, smiles, and love.

And then he said he needed to talk to you, so you went over to his place, and well, he ended things. Right then and there. With no explanation whatsoever.

You were so confused that you didn’t filly react until you got back to your place and noticed one of his leather jackets he had left the other night, still hanging on the coat rack. And just like that you broke down sobbing in tears of anguish, agony, and the worst of all: heartbreak.

It wasn’t like inviting your friends over and binging sad romance movies over some ice cream and then burning his shit or covering it in glitter and delivering it back to him would work this time. No, this was a full blown code red. As code red as code red can get.

You were a depressed mess for three weeks not able to function as a human being. You breathed and that was the only thing keeping you alive. You just felt so used and ashamed and confused and unsure. Your entire life and existence for the last year and a half was suddenly meaningless and that was terrifying.

After a good depression slump, you turned to what every world famous singer-songwriter turned to: writing an album.

Which also happened to include a 10 minute song.

A 10 minute song that made it to #1 on the Billboard charts.

And caused your ex to go trough weeks of absolute slander and humiliation on the internet.

Every time you went on Instagram, TikTok, Twitter, any social media the exact same thing popped up time and time again: a meme of Gerard with your lyrics along side it, or overall people just criticizing him for specific instances you mentioned in the song. Some of which were exaggerated, if you were being honest.

Everyone knew who he was, not only because of his band, but because he broke your heart. And despite trying to be the better person, you definitely felt a ping of victory in your chest.

Long story short, the album cycle had gone really well. Your tour sold out, the album was doing incredibly well with multiple number one hits, and awards were coming your way left and right. Yet the last thing you expected to see at any awards show was him.

My Chem didn’t do award shows, they just didn’t. So why the actual fuck was he here at an after party? You immediately saw him, and despite the dimly lit nature of the room, you knew it was him. He looked... good, actually.

His hair was a bit more grown out and black, he had lost notable weight, his jaw was suddenly incredibly sharp and noticeable, he was unfairly hot and you hated it at the moment.

“Oh shit.” Your bestfriend, Clara approached you. “It’s him, isn’t hit?”

“Mhm.” You nodded and sighed, “Why is he so hot? Why?”

“We are not going back down that rabbit hole, nu-uh.” She stated, grabbing your arm and pulling you away, “I don’t care how good the dick is, I am not going through another three weeks of you hiding under your covers like a fucking bear in hibernation.”

“It was good.” You mumbled as she pulled your up to the bar, ordering you a rum and Coke.

“C’mon girl, you just won like five awards for an album about how shitty he was! Don’t go back to him.” She sighed, “He was a douche.”

“I know.” You frowned, wanting to add on, ‘but only that once!’ knowing it wouldn’t go over well.

“Besides, I think you got an A+ list fucking hunk of an actor staring right at you.” She smiled, biting her lip and looking over your shoulder. You looked over your own to see him smiling right at you.

“Fuck! That’s the dude in the new super hero movie or whatever I forget which one- but he’s ripped, right?” Clara nodded enthusiastically and you smiled.

“If you wanna get Gerard even more on his nerves,” She began, “Maybe you’ll talk to him. But do the whole flirty thing where ya know, you place your hand on his chest and overly laugh at his jokes.” You nodded with a smirk as you shot down your drink for confidence and walked over to begin talking to the guy.

He was nice, for sure. Definitely nice, but like, no personality whatsoever. His jokes were bad, but you laughed, especially after you got a quick text from Clara notify you that Gerard was in fact staring right at you with a face full of envy. Exactly where you wanted him. Salt in the wound.

After a while, you excused yourself to go to the restroom which really was just an excuse to not talk to him anymore. You quickly glanced at Gerard who was still staring at you and quite aggressively took a sip of his water, which you turned away and smiled to. Hey, he was a dick, you could smile about making him mad.

You wondered to the restroom solely to get away from the unnecessary and annoying conversation. You weren’t really sure where to go next, it was stuffy and hot in there, music growing louder to the point where a scream sounded more like a mumble. So you did what any logical person in your situation would do, went through some back stairs and up to some random rooftop balcony.

You opened the large metal door and took a deep breath as you inhaled the fresh, crisp air of an LA night. You slowly opened your eyes again, after enjoying your mere moment of tranquility, to be met with anything but peace. In fact, you swore you felt your chest actually begin to light into flames and your heart ceasing to beat.

It was him.

He was standing there, leaning on the slim metal railing, a cigarette in his mouth as he slowly inhaled and exhaled again, clearly staring off into the dot pattern of lights a large city like this one had. You hated when he smoked, it was an awful habit and while you knew it was far better than most of his other previous bad habits and addictions, you still didn’t like it in the least.

The door then shut with a subtle ‘bang’, and naturally he turned around. And there you were, your confidence now stripped of you and blown off in the wind of the night. You were a statue, just staring at him. Out of... you weren’t even sure anymore. There was no word for this emotion. At least not one yet.

He did the same. Didn’t really move at all, just stared at you. At least he looked like he was breathing, you definitely weren’t. Your eyes remained wide as his grew heavy and he took another drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke out of his mouth as it cascaded over his face. “Fancy seeing you here.” He said, only a small smile dancing on the edges of his lips.

You took that as a potential sign of peace, and began walking towards him. It would just be awkward if it was just the two of you up here and you weren’t at least minimally interacting. “I didn’t think you came to these things.” You commented, standing right behind the railing. He hummed, taking the almost nonexistent cigarette out of his mouth, throwing it on the gravel ground, and digging it in with his boot.

“No, not usually.” He sighed, “Label pushed us to, though. We were nominated and all.”

“I thought you guys never listened to your label,” You snorted under your breath, “It’s part of your whole image.”

“Yeah, well, ya know.” He began, “Shit happens.”

The two of you stood there in complete silence just staring into the skyline for probably a minute or two before he spoke up again. “Congrats on the awards.” He stated.

“Thanks.” You replied. Couldn’t have done it without your shitty ass breakup. “Congrats on all your nominations.” He scoffed.

“Nominations are not winning,” He explained, “It’s barely an acknowledgment.”

“Eh, I’ve been nominated for lots of things and not won.” You replied, “Besides, I think you guys should have won at least rock song of the year.”

“Thanks.” He replied, grabbing his pack again out of his pocket.

“I hate when you smoke those.” You commented under your breath.

“I know.” He coyly smiled, placing one in his mouth. “I’m not doing it out of spite, I’m doing it because that’s how addiction works.”

“I think I know how addiction works.” You fired back, eyeing him a bit. Again, it went silent with the tension.

“I saw you with, uh, what’s his face in there?” He began and you scoffed.

“Oh please, what’re you keeping track of every guy I talk to now?”

“No,” He replied, “Just observing.”

“I always hated how snarky you got.” You commented

“I always hated how snarky you got.” He chuckled.

“Oh don’t play the fucking victim.” You warned, “You were the one who broke up with me, remember?”

“Yeah, biggest fucking mistake of my life.” He stated matter of factly. You were processing what out of pocket thing to say next but his words caught up to you faster.

“Huh?” You suddenly asked, your eyes growing wide in shock.

“Yeah, I should’ve never been a complete and utter dick and just dumped you. You were probably one of the best things that ever happened to me, and I just treated you like shit one day and called things off over shit that wasn’t even your fault.” He sighed, “And yes, I definitely deserved a 10 minute break up song about me.”

“It was 25 initially.” You mumbled and he looked over more with a look of concern. “Can I ask you something?” You requested after a few moments of silence.

“Shoot.”

“Why did you break up with me?” You asked and looked over at him. He froze for a moment before taking his cigarette out to elaborate on a large sigh.

“Because I wasn’t myself, and I wasn’t thinking with my head.”

“Huh?” You asked.

“I had gotten back on, ya know, shit, just before the whole thing. And of course I knew you were gonna get on my ass and tell me that I shouldn’t do that shit, so I made the dumb mistake and chose all the fucked shit over you.” He explained, “It was so, so fucking dumb.” You waited a few moments to speak. Maybe out of shock, or just trying to process it.

“Gee,” You replied, waiting a few moments, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything. You’re not obligated to. I mean, I can barely if at all justify what I did with that.”

“You were a complete dick.” You stated, looking over at him as he lightly smiled. “But I loved you.”

“You loved me?”

“Yeah, I told you like every day.”

“Did you ever stop loving me?” You took a brief pause, the answering coming way too fast for your comfort. There was a still silence present between the two of you.

“I don’t know.” You whispered, your breath getting lost in the wind. He nodded, placing his head down to stare at the ground.

“I never expected you to come back, a part of me doesn’t want you to. Not because I don’t love you, I still do, but because all the anguish and just torture and hell I put you through. This two year punishment without you has been completely awful, but I know I deserve more of it.”

And you were actually speechless.

You hated the idea that you wanted to give him a second chance. You dreaded the feeling that he was a good guy at heart. You absolutely despised that you loved him, still, after all the shit he drug you through.

So you did what anyone would do: you ran.

You ran as fast as this tight dress and the heels could take you, as fast as your breath would allow, as fast as your heart could beat.

“Where are you going?” He asked, you heard his footsteps behind you as he grabbed onto your arm. It wasn’t a mean grab, more worry and desperation.

You turned your face to look up into those hazels eyes that reflect your own, lighten up by the barely illuminated box light above the door.

“To think.” You replied, your eyes welling in tears as your breath broke. You shook him free of you quickly and ran through the door and down the stairs.

You wanted him to run after you, but you wanted him to just leave you alone. You wanted him to confess his words and trials of love for you, but you wanted him to rot in hell. You wanted to feel his lips against yours again as you had all those times, but you also wanted to never see him ever again.

Your head was spinning as you finally reached the main ballroom again, looking around frantically for anyone you knew. After a minute your eyes just scanned the room and became blurry, unsure of what the image in front of you was, but you were sure it was chaotic and-

“Y/N?” A familiar voice rang through your ears. “Y/N, are you alright?” It became more clear. You turned to your side to see where it came from, a face you hadn’t seen in years.

“Mikey,” You sighed, letting your held breath go, “I um, I-”

“Are you having a panic attack?” He asked frantically, holding both of your arms, “Shit, let’s get you out of here.” He said, beginning to escort you to the back entrance. As soon as you got outside again your brain began collecting itself. “Are you alright?” He asked and you nodded, realizing you fists were curled into the lace of your dress and letting go. “What happened.”

“I- I don’t know, a lot I guess.” You swallowed harshly.

“Do you need to get home? Do you have a driver? Uber?”

“Yeah, I have a driver. I’ll just text him.” You sighed, taking another deep breath and closing your eyes.

“It’s Gerard, isn’t it?” He asked.

“Huh?” Your eyes went wide, wondering how he figured that out so fast.

“What the hell did he say to you? You know I’ll kick his ass-”

“No, Mikes, no.” You sighed, “I’m just confused.”

“About?”

“Him.”

“Oh.” You nodded.

“I think I need time to figure out how I feel.” He nodded back.

“I understand.” He smiled, as your carb began pulling up. “Well, you know if you need anything, I’m a phone call aways.”

“Thanks.” You tightly smiled, leaning in to give him a hug which he happily returned.

He helped you into your car, shutting the door and waving goodbye, making your promise that as soon as you got back to your place you would text him to let him know you were safe. “I swore she would’ve been my sister-in-law by now.” He sighed as the car pulled away. “But he just had to fuck it up.”

There your phone was in front of you for the third day in a row, his contact still blaring at you through the screen. You had been tempted oh so many times to call, text, anything just to see him.

You were kicking yourself for admitting it, but you missed him.

And deep down you knew better than to get back with a man who had thrown you to the curb like some casual trash every trash day, but 99% of your relationship was different, and you believed him when he explained why he suddenly changed. But you couldn’t just erase away the image of him just casually breaking up with you like it was nothing.

“I just don’t think this is gonna work out.” He nonchalantly stated as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

“What do you mean this ‘isn’t gonna work out’?” You asked him with confusion and despair mixed in your voice. “Two weeks ago we were talking about having kids, Gerard.”

“Yeah, well, life happens.” He stated with a sigh, “Listen I’m not sure if I love you the same way I did.”

“Huh?” You asked in utter shock, “What the fuck has happened to you? You’ve been a completely different person the last week. This isn’t fucking you and I want to know what’s going on.”

“Nothing!” He yelled back, his teeth gritting together and eyes glowing in rage. “Ya know what? This was never gonna work out. We’re two different people. You’re too obsessed with your image and who you are on the outside that people can never see who you actually are. And I’m sure that helps with your insecurity.” That was too far.

“Ya know what, fuck you Gerard Way. And fuck your stupid inflamed ego, and fuck your half ass songwriting that, by the way, wouldn’t be nearly as praised if it wasn’t for me proofreading all of it like a fucking English teacher! And fuck your entire fucking career and who you are as a person because you’re a fucking asshole and a dick.” He scoffed.

“What are you gonna do about that, huh?” He fired back, “Write a song about me.” And that was the final line.

“Get the fuck out of my house.” You demanded, pointing to the door. He gave you a ridiculous look, “I don’t know who you are, but you are not the Gerard Way I fell in love with. So I need you to get the fuck out of my house before I call security.” He rolled his eyes and huffed, grabbing his coat from the rack and opening the door to leave.

“Well, good luck finding any inspiration besides me.”

“That’s the fun of it, isn’t it.” You sarcastically smiled, “I will drag your name through the mud and back, throw it in a dumpster, and light it on fire. Mark my fucking words.”

You knew he had. Judging by the conversation of just a few days prior he had paid the wrath of hell you had cursed upon him, and he knew he deserved it. You wondered if that was enough punishment, or if pretending like you two were never even together was what he really needed.

You shut off your phone, this time aimlessly throwing it across the room as you heard a distant ‘thud’, and groaned, leaning back into your bed. You hated this feeling, these conflicting battles happening in your mind. You had never stopped loving him, and he had never stopped loving you, but he had broke you like no other. Does that deserve another chance.

“See, this is why I didn’t want you two to ever get back together.” Clara came into your room with some takeout bags and you groaned again. “Because he gets you into this weird funk and I don’t like it.”

“It wasn’t always like this.”

“No, but people change, Y/N. And you need to accept that the Gerard who broke your heart was not the same man who you fell in love with. He’s gone now.”

“I don’t think so.” You sat up, squinting your eyes to adjust to the light. “I think he came back.”

“Uh huh, how do you know that?” She sarcastically asked.

“He had the same sparkle in his eyes he did years ago, the same spunk but not in a mean way. When his hand touched my arm I could feel the warmth I felt years ago when we used to hold hands or cuddle.” She sighed, sitting next to you on the bed.

“Yeah, but is he worth going through all that pain again?” She looked down at you as you stared at the ceiling.

“Yeah,” You sighed, “I think so.”

“Hi.”

Those were the only words muttered as the two of you stood on opposite sides of the door. He was still in the exposed air through the back door of your Tribeca townhouse, standing there with the cool breeze flushing through his hair. You were on the other side inside, and slightly moved over as a signal for him to walk in which he followed.

He slipped off his shoes and jackets as he looked around the first floor living section. He hadn’t been here before, of course he hadn’t. You had sold your old apartment as soon as he broke up with you. You couldn’t stand all the memories there and you wanted to run away as fast as possible.

“Wow,” He commented with a smile, “This is really nice.”

“Thanks.” You lightly smiled, leading him to the living room.

“Coffee?” You asked and he nodded. He never drank anything but that, and you knew nothing had changed. You handed him the mug with just black coffee in it, a similarity the two of you always shared.

The following moments were filled with a level of awkward silence you hadn’t felt in a while. It seemed like each of you were trying to strategically see what the other was plotting; a potential apology, a love confession, makeup sex… who knew. The only solid feeling in the air was one of tension that seemed like a wad of rubber bands wrapped around each other and ready to explode with aggressive pressure.

“So-“ Gerard had started and you looked up at him with a light smile. His eyes met yours, and he suddenly remembered how much he loved to look at them. The natural lighting in your place truly did even more wonders to the eyes he used to beg to stare at for hours because he loved to examine the color and complexion of them. They were a subtle reminder of what home felt like, even if he was on another continent. “I, um, how’ve you been?”

  “Good,” You replied with a light chuckled, running your hand over the back of your neck as if you were trying to find some sort of switch that would magically erase the insane tension between the both of you. “Things have been- overwhelming, but good. And you?”  

“Better,” He admitted, “I mean, life could be going better, but it’s not awful at least.” You nodded your head a bit, knowing what he meant and feeling the radius of misery that seemed to drag around him. Maybe that’s where their dark and very twisted new record had come from, the scent and general aroma of misery and despair that seemed like a necessary accessory he wore.

“That’s- that’s good.” You replied and he lightly laughed.

“Don’t feel that sorry,” He leaned back on the couch and rolled his eyes, “I think this is karma coming for me after all the shit I’ve done to other people.” You snorted a bit at his revelation, him replying merely with a confused look and twist of his head.

“No- it’s just, you’re never gonna believe this, but I kinda recently wrote a song called karma. Not necessarily about you- but about, ya know-”

“Yeah, I know,” He lightly laughed, throwing his head back. “I mean, he deserves it.” You nodded with a soft smile.

More moments of the same tension from before followed, and floated between the two of you as small talk was clearly a lost cause now. “Listen,” You finally spoke up after a few moments, “I wanted to talk to you just about restoring something.”

  “Like what?” He asked, his eyes growing a bit wide in optimism it seemed. Something you recalled him doing a lot when together. Like when you mentioned making his favorite meal, or announcing the shows you would be able to go to on his tour.

“Well, just- something. Friendship or something more, I don’t know. But I think we’ve both been pretty immature about the whole thing that happened, and I don’t know, I feel like it’s time for me to be a bit more adult-ish about everything and at least accept that the past is the past, and try to move on.” It took him a good few seconds to even begin to process your words, and judging by the frozen features on his face, it seemed he didn’t know how to respond for a bit.

“Well, um,” He awkwardly replied, “I’m not against it at all, I’m really glad you wanna try something because I do too, but I’m not sure how I could even begin to start repairing any of the damage I’ve done- I mean, I said and did some awful things to you and just tried to make you feel worthless because that’s how I was feeling.”  You nodded in response, “And I get that. That’s why I’m willing to forgive you, now.” You replied, softly placing your hand over his that sat in the middle of the couch.

He looked down briefly at the contact, his pale face suddenly glowing a bit more red as a blush slowly painted his cheeks.

“I- I appreciate it, but I haven’t really done much to deserve it-“

  “Gee, you’re here today. In my apartment, the girl who you crushed, willingly admitting to your wrongdoing.” You promptly replied, “Also, you did admit the 10 minute song was good.”

  “I mean, yeah, it was almost an epic of a song.” He replied quickly as if it was obvious.

“Thanks,” You softly smiled, “So, at least friends. And if something else comes up, maybe we’ll try more than friends again.”

  “I would like that,” He quickly nodded, “A lot, actually.”

This was so uncharacteristic of you.

In fact, staring at his bedroom ceiling, now, the fan running, and a slight dink from a loose screw on it echoing through the room, you had begun to question every breath you had taken in the last 24 hours. Every step you took was now being analyzed in your mind as to how your feet took you here, and your heart interrupting it with it’s beats of love.

His slight morning snore, as you fondly recalled it, didn’t help either, or his arms wrapped around your waist tightly. You were trapped between a choice of freedom and non confrontation to your left, or the sleeping man who you hated for years on your right.

But his death grip was making this impossible, you couldn’t escape if you wanted to, but you were also freaking out… a lot at this point. So much is that you began to feel your lines constricting centimeter by centimeter, and your breath growing heavy and urgent. Your mind began fogging as eyes became dizzy, and were only broken from your trace by a slight shake.

“Y/N/N,” He asked, sitting above you a bit with a concerned look. His face was twisted to your side as if coming out of the right part of your vision from where you laid, grabbing the covers on top of you, “You alright?” He asked. You quickly cleared your throat and nodded a bit.

“Yup, fine.” You admitted, sitting up on your forearms as he gave you more room.

“You sure? Your breathing became heavy all of a sudden and-“

“Yup! Perfectly fine.” You tried to admit as optimistic as possible which came out more as passive aggressive. You quickly got up, wrapping some sheets around you at the edge of the bed, quickly rearranging your clothes on yourself from the night before.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” He asked more starkly, noticing your jittery movements. He got up, and began redressing himself as well, “Baby, I need you to talk to me.”  

“Don’t-“ You almost fired back, taking a moment to stop yourself and lower your tone, “Don’t call me that.” You said, finally pulling your shirt over your head.

“Oh- okay.” He replied, confused as he put his shirt on too.

“I just- I need to get out of here.” You frantically said, grabbing your bag and phone.

“What?” He asked again, squinting his eyes at you, confusion clearly taking over every thought in hid mind, “I- Y/N, seriously, what the fuck is wrong?” 

“Everything, Gerard!” You yelled back, his face now in shock at your roar. He remembered having your first serious sit down conversation with one another. The one where you each pour out all of your problems on the table, sort through them in conversation like a deck of cards, and finish with passionate sex now that you each knew everything about each other? That one.

You had brought up your anger issues, and despite your juvenile level of anger had long been cooler down to where you stood now, he had been fairly warned about your potential out breaks. It was when you were overly anxious and unsure of how to react to something, so you resorted to overwhelming anger of what was causing you to feel that way. This, was clearly, one of those times.

“Can you just- please shut up for a second.” You heavily sighed, him still staring at you wide eyed.

You took a moment to breath, retreating back to your cleaning up after, and finally after a good minute or two, spoke again. “I- we can’t do this.” You stated, matter of factly, looking at him, “This is against everything I’ve held myself to ever, this goes against all my morals, and most of all makes me feels like some sort of whore, so I need to go.”  

Gerard sat still and silent at your self-realization, and only moved with a flinch when he heard the front door slam shut. He then sat, again still, specifically at his wall, and wondered what he had done wrong. You and he had possibly the best night you had with each other just the prior night, and he couldn’t count on his fingers each of you whispered “I love you” to the other. He knew he meant every note of the phrase that came out of his mouth, but now he was wondering the same for you.

“I need a cigarette.” Was all he murmured, getting up and finding his pack and lighters on his bedside table. You knew you loved (despite the fact you always said it was nasty) when he smoked in bed after sex with you under his arm, and last night was no different. A blush always grew on your face and you would always nuzzle closer to him every time he did it, your eyes always glued to his mouth and the smoke that came out of it.

He headed out onto his apartment fire escape/turned balcony and briefly looked down below to the city streets on this cold, rainy, Sunday morning. No better time than for everything to go to shit again. He took a deep inhale after lighting the thin paper, and finally exhaled, looking away from the smoke like he did when a bit annoyed.

In the days that followed, he had set his expectations to be filled with nasty texts and calls from your friends berating him for letting you sleep with him again and get attached. Granted, as cliche as it sounded, the whole “it takes two to tango” scenario was oddly fitting for what was currently going on. He had to set half the blame on you, cut even and sliced to perfection, considering that neither of you would be in this confusing scenario had you just stayed away… but damn was that a hard and daunting task.

He had known from the first few weeks of dating you all those years ago that you were the one for him, and no one would truly compare to the way you made him feel. He was optimistic and happy for the first time in his life, you set off a sort of fire in him that made him feel more human. You were his person, but the whole bullshit of “right person, wrong time” seemed to be the motto of the entire relationship.

He heard his phone ping, laying on the couch and still smoking, a habit that had been indulged into these last couple of days, and reached for the device. He picked it up, flashing his screen and groaned. Of course she had to text him right now out of all times.

He wasn’t even sure if he owed her a response to her petty plea to get him to come over and the numerous risqué pictures she had sent to top it all off made him scoff. It had been months since they had done anything with each other, but the universe clearly had other plans to take the knife already plunged in his chest and turn it.

He simply replied with a “No.” and put his phone back down. If she texted more with pathetic drags at trying to get him to respond, he would simply block her. But he wouldn’t be a dick and make that his first move, at least he would be respectful, slightly, about it at first.

He took another long drag, letting the smoke settle in his lungs before releasing, and heard a faint knock at his door. He sat up a bit, confused and not expecting any visitors, getting up and walking over figuring maybe it was just Mikey. But much to his surprise, when he opened the door, it was you.

You both stared at each other for a good few seconds, before you finally spoke up, “Hi.” You said, simply. He noticed your wet jackets and boots, moving out of the way, and opening the door to let you in.

Nothing was spoken between the time when you slipped off your coat and boots, him graciously hanging your coat on the rack, and sitting down on the couch across from each other. The same whole scenario you went through when decisively saying, “Let’s just be friends” turned into passionate sex.

“So,” He started, looking at you curiously, “Why’re you here?”

“Um,” You began awkwardly, sighing while mentally contemplating what to say next, something you, shockingly enough, had not planned much on your way here. “I came to apologize for running the other night- or morning, really. I just- I got scared and I didn’t know how to handle my emotions and so I ran. And I’m sorry for that, you didn’t deserve to be left like that with no explanation.”

While he wanted to hold a bit of a grudge against your excuse for just leaving him for days, he also knew he was indirectly the cause that put you here. Of course you ran from him, you were scared if you didn’t leave first, he would leave. He took a sigh, himself, composing how to explain his own thoughts without coming off as completely dismissive.

“It’s okay, really.” He finally said, “I- you wouldn’t have to deal with those emotions had I not put you there. But I did, and that’s unfair to you as well. So- just, don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah- but,” You began, trying to find some way to genuinely get your apology across as you still seemed to believe he was just saying that.

“No, Y/N, I completely understand why you did it, and it’s okay, really. You needed time to think and breathe.”

“I just feel really immature about it all,” You continued, “I really shouldn’t have done that.”  “And I forgive you.” He stated, placing his hand on your knee which finally got a small smile out of you.

“Can we, maybe, restart this for like, the second or third time?” You lightly laughed as he smiled and nodded.

“I would love that,” He replied, “But this time I’ll take you out to dinner first, forgot that the first time, well second time around, technically.”

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