#tone tag list

[pigeonvivian42]

a very long list of tone indicators

/! or /exc - excited

/a - affectionate or alterous

/aff - affectionate

/afph - a few people here

/ao - an order

/ap - apologetic

/apa - apathetic

/av - a vent

/ay - at you

/b - bitter

/br - bragging

/c - copypasta

/calm - calm

/caut - cautionary

/cb - clickbait

/cel - celebratory

/ci - caring intent

/cj - coping joke

/co or /cf - comforting

/con - confused

/curi - curious

/d - dubious (don't know what feeling youre trying to convey but you still want to convey it)

/dir - directed

/drm - dramatic

/e or /ex or /exa - exaggeration

/ebh - everybody here

/f - fake

/fa or /fam or /faml - familial

/fl - flirting

/fm - fake mad

/fs - fake sad

/fu - furious

/fx - flex

/gen or /g - genuine

/genq or /gq - genuine question

/gens or /gs - genuine suggestion

/gentle - gentle

/gs - gaslighting

/hc - headcanon

/hj - half joke

/hp - half platonic

/hsrs - half serious

/hyp - hyperbole

/ic - in character

/ij - inside joke

/imo - in my opinion

/info - information

/irre - irrelevant

/it - intrusive thought

/iw - innerworld

/j - joke

/jk - just kidding

/jov - jokingly overreacting

/jw - just wondering

/l or /ly or /lyr - lyrics

/lg - lying

/lh - light hearted

/li - literal

/lu - a little upset

/lv - lovingly

/m - metaphor

/ma - messing around or manifesting

/md - melodramatic

/mj - mostly joking

/mjnay - mad, just not at you

/mr - mostly romantic

/na - not aimed

/nabr - not a brag

/nafx - not a flex

/nao - not an order

/naq - not a question

/nav - not a vent

/nay or /nau - not at you

/nbh - nobody here

/nbip - nobody in particular

/nbr - not being rude

/ncm - not comparing

/neg or /ng or /nc - negative (connotation)

/neu - neutral

/nf - not forced or not fake

/nfl - not flirting

/nfta - not forced to answer

/nh - not hostile or not here

/nid - not in danger

/nm - not mad or not mean

/nmay - not mad at you

/nmn - not mean

/nmu - not mad or upset

/nof - no offense

/np - no pressure

/npa - not passive aggressive

/nr - no reply or don't reply

/nrt or /nrh - not rhetorical

/nsb - not subtweeting

/nsd - not self deprecating

/nsrs - not serious

/nsx or /nx or /ns - not sexual

/nth - not a threat

/nu - not upset

/ny - not yelling

/nyf - not your fault

/od - overdramatic

/ooc - out of character or out of cosplay

/op - optional

/ot - off topic

/p or /pla or /plat - platonic

/pa - passive aggressive

/par - parental

/para - paraphrased

/pers - personal

/pf - playful

/pj - probably joking

/pnj - probably not joking

/pos or /pc or /poc - positive (connotation)

/q - quote or question

/qp - queerplatonic

/r or /rom - romantic

/ref - reference

/res - respectfully

/rh or /rt or /rht - rhetorical

/rhq - rhetorical question

/rp - roleplay

/s or /sar or /sarc or /sarcasm - sarcastic

/safe - safe

/sat - satire

/sbh - somebody here

/sbtw - subtweeting

/silly - silly

/sj - source joke

/srs - serious

/st - statement or strange thought or silly thought

/state - statement

/stim - something is typed as a written version of a stim

/sx or /x - sexual

/sym - sympathetic

/sys - something happening in their own system

/t - teasing

/tan - tangent

/th - threat

/tic or /tc - typed unintentionally due to a tic

/tq - typing quirk

/ts - to self

/u - upset

/unin - unintentional

/unr or /unre - unrelated

/v - violent

/vu - very upset

/w - warm or warmth

/wp - wrong proxy

[ghost-proofbaby]

SO SCARLET (IT WAS MAROON)

CHAPTER FOUR: CASTLES CRUMBLING

AND HERE I SIT ALONE, BEHIND WALLS OF REGRET. FALLING DOWN LIKE PROMISES I NEVER KEPT.

☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

☆ warnings: no use of y/n, strong language, angst, mentions of RUMORS of workplace sex scandal, minors dni

☆ WC: 5.4K+

☆ A/N: if you would like to listen to the song that eddie is recording at the end - it is an actual, real life song. :-) it is called "blood sport" by sleep token (one of my favorite bands i get to see live next week!!), and i highly recommend listening to it during your reading. especially the latter half of this chapter.

thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for the divider!

masterlist

“Alright, so – anyone care to fill me in on what the Hell that was?” 

Matt stands like a disapproving father figure as the band lines up opposite of him just outside the building. Eddie had hoped nothing would be mentioned until they were in the car, but the driver was clearly running a few minutes late.

Three of the boys glance at each other, worried expressions immediately giving up the hoax even as Eddie only shrugs and says, “What do you mean?” 

“Cut the shit, Munson,” Matt had never appeared so livid, so undone by irritation. His usual patience with Eddie is nonexistent, “What’s going on between you and that girl? Is she a past groupie?”

The insinuation gets a scoff out of Gareth. Jeff side-eyes him in warning, but Eddie couldn’t care less, “No, she’s not a past groupie. This was the first time I’d ever-”

“Don’t lie to me,” Matt points an accusatory finger at Eddie, narrowing his eyes, “I am your manager. If you have any unsavory connections with that girl, I need to know so I can decide if we need someone else to organize the event. We are not having another repeat of the Lewinsky scandal.” 

“I knew it! I fucking knew you called it that, too!” Gareth cheers, but he’s quieted by one look from their furious manager.

The Lewinsky scandal had been their code-word for when the tabloids had become convinced that Eddie was fucking an assistant at the label. A girl had even come forward and claimed to have had sexual relations with Eddie, and he had taken heat for it for a full month before the buzzing novelty worn off.

Eddie had only spoken three words to the girl. No, thank you when she’d offered him a mug of coffee during a late night at the studio. He wishes now he’d been less polite. 

And he also finds himself wishing that’s all this was. He wishes you were just another scandal, another terrible rumor spread around. If all the accusations between you two were false, if all the hatred was based on misconstrued circumstances, it would be so much easier. He can talk himself out of that. He can confess to those sins and get off with no more than the order of one hail mary from Matt. 

But you? The reality of all that had happened, both all those years ago and just thirty minutes ago? He can’t find the words. They choke him up, unwilling to leave the cavern of his chest and enter the world, just like all the songs gathering dust as demos. 

“It’s not going to be another Lewinsky scandal,” Eddie scowls, feet shuffling against the concrete below him. Can’t be another Lewinsky scandal if she wants nothing to do with me anymore, “Maybe she just doesn’t like me. I am allegedly a very polarizing public figu-”

The car pulls up, and Matt is quick to grab Eddie’s shoulder before glaring at the boys, “Get in, I’m not finished with our polarizing public figure yet.” 

Grant and Gareth only let out low whistles, following instruction without lingering as they clamber into the back row of seats in the SUV. Jeff takes his time, though, going as far to pause beside Eddie and place a hand on his back.

“Just tell him the truth, Eds.” 

It’s the final nail in his coffin. Eddie is cursing Jeff’s retreating figure as he climbs into the vehicle and shuts the door, leaving him alone with Matt. 

“Explain,” Matt demands, “Now.” 

Eddie’s eyes focus on a gaping crack in the sidewalk, jagged and uneven, right down the center. 

He has two options. He could continue to lie, insist he knows nothing about you until Matt just gets bored of not being offered the truth. Or he could admit it all, reveal the muse behind the art he had been fiercely protecting over these last few months. Every line, every chord, every broken note that had left his lungs during those witching hours in the studio. 

On one hand, it’ll rip away the opportunity that has been offered to him on a silver platter – the opportunity for closure. Selfish, bloody closure that neither of you had gotten, it seemed. But on the other hand, it might grant him some sympathy. Matt, the label, the producers – they had all grown tired of the dance Eddie led them in every time they’d inquire about the music. But if Matt knew-

It’s a dead end trail of thought. He knows he won’t admit to the worst of his atrocities he’s committed. No scandal, no late night ending with him in handcuffs, no fraudulent headline is going to compare to what he did to you. What you did to him.

It’s a little too late for damage control, anyways.

“I went to high school with her,” the lie works well enough, easing some of Matt’s frustration, “I was just shocked to see her. All of us were shocked to see her. No big deal.” 

Eddie knows the people around him have come to learn that they must pick and choose the battles they engage in with him. And he can see that decision flash across Matt’s face as he decides that this is not a battle necessary to the war.

“Alright. But if you’re lying to me-“

“I’m not lying.”

“If you are, that’ll be one of my last straws, Munson.”

It won’t be. Eddie knows it won’t be. Everyone, every single goddamn person in this world it seems, is capable of giving Eddie Munson unlimited chances — except you. You, it seemed, were the only person who had come to their senses. 

You always were smarter than people gave you credit for.

—

“Run the track again.” 

They’d spent a few hours in the studio already. It was an odd hour for them to be haunting the space, more used to visiting in the dead of night rather than the middle of a weekday, but it was down to the wire now. Vocals needed to be recorded, instrumentals fine-tuned, tracks properly mastered. Eddie could no longer hide in the night when it came to recording the haunting melodies stained with the blood of his past — no matter how wrong it felt to see a sliver of sunlight breaking through one of the windows, just through the top of the blackout curtains.

“I really think that was the one, man-“ the producer starts, probably just tired after repeatedly running in circles with Eddie’s perfectionism.

He doesn’t care. He’s paying them, they can stand to let him re-record as many times as necessary to satisfy Eddie, “Run it again.” 

The silence only continues to buzz in Eddie’s headphones. He’s ready to cuss out the producer as he angrily shoves them down, off his ears and hanging loosely around his neck, the wire a leash as he whips to face the one-way glass wall. The lights are off at the main board, guaranteeing that they can see Eddie but Eddie can’t see them.

Until suddenly, the light comes back on, and the reason for the absence of the repeated track Eddie had requested becomes obvious.

Gareth.

He stands at the center of it all, a few paces from the seated producer with a deep scowl on his face. 

“What the fuck?” Eddie says, mouth just close enough to the mic for them to catch his overflowing annoyance, “I said-“

“We heard what you said, Eddie,” Gareth interrupts, his voice just loud enough to be faintly heard even as the headphones curl around the nape of Eddie’s neck, “But I need to talk to you.” 

It’s the strictest tone that Gareth has used on their lead singer in an unfathomably measure of time. Probably because it’s the most words he’s said to Eddie in a very long time, as well.

Eddie finally removes the headphones, hanging them carelessly on the mic stand and moving towards the door — surprisingly, without putting up a resistance.

The control room is warmer than the fairly large area that served as a ‘booth’. Smaller, as well. Cramped with a low couch and one too many chairs available to trip over, the control board spanses the entire wall that holds the oversized window into the recording room. A plethora of small lights twinkle like stars, and numerous switches that Eddie had come to know better than the back of his hand alternate positions to guarantee the clearest sound. Only Gareth and the producer occupy the room, the rest of the band having taken off around the fifth time Eddie had requested a redo of his vocal tracking.

“This better be good,” Eddie complains, furrowing his brows, agitated at the interruption. 

But Gareth shows no remorse, “We need to talk.” 

“Yeah, you said that already.”

“We need to talk,” Gareth repeats, eyes flickering to the poor soul still seated at the controls, “Alone.” 

Eddie hardly has to open his mouth, the man jumping out of his seat the moment the lead singer flicks his wrist to signal for him to leave.

Whatever Gareth was about to say had to be important, and it’s that thought rather than the difference in temperatures that has sweat building on Eddie’s brows.

Is he about to quit the band? Is he about to tell me he’s had enough? Maybe he’s done with my bullshit — I would be.

“Speak, Emerson,” Eddie flatly insists, grabbing a small water bottle out of one of the mini fridges in the room before he throws himself onto the worn leather of the couch, “And make it quick. We’re on a time limit, you kno-“

“We’ve gotta talk about her, man.” 

Her as in you. 

For a moment, Gareth sounds like a friend again. He’s dropped all the persistent perturbation he’s taken to defending himself with when it comes to  Eddie, his voice pleading as he stands before the distant man. All the rueful power plays that had developed over the last year vanish. It’s just Eddie and Gareth, bandmates who started out in the latter’s garage in some small Indiana town. Not Eddie Munson, infamous rockstar with a chip on his shoulder. Not Gareth Emerson, passionate drummer overshadowed by the ego of his lead singer. Just Eddie and Gareth.

 “We all know you didn’t tell Matt the truth.” 

“I did tell him the truth-“ 

“Not the whole truth, then. There’s no way he’d let it slide if he knew that she was your ex-girlfriend.” 

The defiance vacates Eddie’s body quickly. He doesn’t even attempt to prowl his mind for a quick quip in response. All he does at the words is drop his shoulders, the defeat creeping up on him as he deflates. 

Ex-girlfriend. The title feels so pitiful to truly describe what you were to him. 

But to be fair, even when he had been in your good graces, girlfriend had also never felt significant enough.

“Did-“ Gareth starts after a beat of silence, noting the way Eddie couldn’t quite hide his wounds on the topic, “What did you guys talk about? When you went after her, what did she say?” 

“Nothing important.”

Eddie turns into a shell, a zombie as he stares straight ahead and tries to compartmentalize. That always worked; with meetings, with arguments, with lectures. Even before the fame, it worked.

It doesn’t work quite as quickly when it comes to you. His brain, it seems, is incapable of uncrossing all the wires you twist within his brain.

“You two were alone for, what, ten minutes? And you’re telling me she didn’t say anything important?” 

“What the fuck is there to say?” Eddie laughs soullessly, “Oh, hey, stranger! Remember me? The guy you up and left without a word?” 

“Yes!” Gareth shouts unexpectedly, “Yes, that’s exactly what you should have done! She left. Not just you, but all of us. We never even really knew why. And now- what? Are we just supposed to pretend we don’t know her?” 

Eddie knew why. She’d never had to say it, and that was the issue. He always thought about all the answers he swore he craved, and always let every question he claimed to have haunt him during the waking hours. But when the day turned to night, when he was left to nothing but his own devices in a dark and empty apartment during the witching hours, he knew. The question of why had been answered since the first phone call cut short with you during that goddamn tour.

The songs knew, too. He supposes it had been an arrogant assumption to believe the band had read into his lyrics and put the pieces together. 

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Eddie nearly whispers, throat tightening and fighting him on the words. It’s the opposite of what he wants and needs — but it’s what you want and what you need. And so he plays the messenger, even as it kills him, “We are going to completely disregard my past with her. We are going to treat this entire situation as professionally as possible. I’m talking the full nine yards: you will not mention the fact that we know her, you will not question her about anything from the past, and you will not, under any circumstances, ask her why.” 

His own set of rules he’d privately set for himself in his own mind during the car ride over. 

Gareth squints his eyes in disbelief, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Are you serious?”

“Deathly so.”

“This isn’t just about your past with her,” the boy nearly passes, starts to reach up to tug on his hair before he thinks better of it, “This is about the way she left all of us. Not just you. She was a friend to all of us. She was the one who taught me how to tape my drums when I’d bust a hole in them, she was the one who helped us design our first merch, she was the only person any of us would let be in the room during practices. And not just the band stuff, either,” Eddie watches tears form in Gareth’s eyes, “She was the only one who had the patience to help me with my fucking math homework back in school, man. She was the one who nearly curb stomped Jason Carver the week he sent Grant home with a black eye. She was the first person Jeff called when his parents broke news of their divorce, for fucks sake. Not me, not you, not any of us — her,” Gareth’s breaths come out as pants as he stops his pacing and stands before Eddie. The tears continue to lace his bottom lash line as he heaved silently at the end of his rant, his pained expression completely unexpected to Eddie. 

This is the part Eddie chooses to forget. He’ll let himself swim in the memory of you late at night, he’ll indulge in vices that always amplify his pain rather than succeeding in his attempt to numb it, he’ll stare down the mirror each morning and curse the reflection he finds with all the blame in the world he is capable of holding in the palms of his hands. But in all the ruptures of his own old scars, he fails to consider that he is not the only one burdened with loss. 

They all lost you. When Eddie lost you, so did the band. You’d become a ghost to more than just your abandoned lover — you’d become a tired haunt to boys you’d known, boys you’d befriended and burrowed your way into the lives of, just as well. 

“She was our friend,” Gareth chokes out, fists curling at his sides, “Jesus Christ, I- I get it. She was everything to you. Whatever. But she meant a lot to the rest of us, too. Whatever happened wasn’t just some isolated event — you two didn’t just hurt each other. You set off whatever bomb erased her from our lives, but it left the rest of us with some damage, too. Don’t forget that.” 

This is the part where Eddie should apologize. This is the part where, once upon a blissful time, he would have said his repentance. 

He doesn’t.

“I don’t care how hurt anyone is,” he lowly responds, eyes unable to meet Gareth’s any longer, “I’ve told you the rules, we’re going to follow them. End of discussion.” 

Gareth throws back his head, and Eddie winces at his scoff, “She’s not your fucking property, Eddie! She isn’t solely yours to keep or whatever the fuck you think you’re doing!” 

Eddie can’t even deny the action of keeping you. All the demos, all the songs laid to the grave because he couldn’t stomach the thought of releasing them for others to experience. 

But that’s not what this was. This, the cataclysm that was sending Gareth to finally release all this pent up frustration, was him following your rules. You’d made your wishes for this project very clear, and he needed to at least try to respect them. They all did. 

So he takes on the role of the bad guy. He lets them paint him as the villain if it means no red will stain your ledger. 

“Oh, I think she’s made it very clear that she isn’t mine,” the mask slips on far too easily for Eddie. Cool demeanor, compartmentalizing. Not you, but his emotions towards his friends, if he could even still call them that. His bandmates that he had once seen as brothers. “Doesn’t change what I said. Don’t push it, Emerson, or there’ll be Hell to pay.” 

“What are you going to do? Disappear on us?” Eddie finally looks back up to meet Gareth’s fiery gaze as he spits out hateful words, “Hate to break it to you, but you already left this band behind two years ago. And if you ask me, you should start leaving the vanishing act to her. At least she doesn’t make us pay for her mistakes.” 

Eddie is by no means done with the conversation, more than willing to continue fighting with Gareth, but the other boy clearly feels differently. He leaves his words hanging in the air as he spins away, storming out of the door, the air in the studio now several degrees hotter now with the irate fuel of the fight.  

It was all a blood sport. All of it. It didn’t matter if Eddie was fighting with the band, the management, with you. It was all bloody and fruitless, and it all left him the same awful type of hollow in the end. 

He stares blankly at the wall as he makes a silent decision.

By the time the producer has timidly returned to the room, Eddie has already set up his laptop to connect to the studio's system, prepped so that any recording would automatically copy into his personal hard drive. A way for him to listen and ruminate in the privacy of his own apartment. 

The sheet music torn from his notebook already lays at the table besides the entrance to the booth. 

“Do you… want to run the track again?” the man, the stranger, asks. He clearly heard the fight. Eddie and Gareth hadn’t been exactly quiet in their screaming match. At least, Gareth hadn’t been. 

Is it really a screaming match if only one side fights back? 

“I want to lay a new track,” Eddie’s voice is deadpan as he clicks a few buttons, finalizing everything. He only needs the man to click record, “A raw piano and vocal demo. We can add the rest of the band later.” 

“I-“

One look from Eddie, hardly passed over his shoulder with a glimmer of unbridled determination, and the man quiets as he takes his seat. 

Eddie storms into the booth without another word, fist curled around the page of lyrics and terribly hand-drawn music clefts. 

She isn’t yours to keep.

Eddie was aware of that. Painfully, painfully aware. But it had never been about his claim to you. 

Gareth was right. Eddie never wanted to own you. Keeping you, however, had been something he should have taken more care with.

The chill of the small room to record in does little to lessen the flames eating Eddie up as he bypasses the assembly of various instruments all crowded in the space. Gareth’s drum set, Jeff’s guitar, Grant’s bass — he storms right past them, eyes locked on the grand piano in the fair corner. It took up the most space, far too large to have been forced to be contained within this compact room. 

Eddie drags the mic from where it had been stationed previously with him, quickly and recklessly resetting it at the piano. 

Once he’s seated on the bench, crumpled pages thrown up onto the music desk of the piano and headphones snug over his ears again, the producer finally clicks on his mic to speak.

“Hey, uh… Does this demo have a name by chance? Or do you just want to label it as an unknown for now?”

It certainly does have a name.

“Blood Sport,” Eddie spits out. “Just name the file Blood Sport.” 

The hum that would indicate to Eddie when those on the other side of that glass window were speaking clicks off, and he takes it as his cue.

He’d written the song a while before. There were some gaps in the lyrics, some notes he’d played with on his personal piano scribbled over and never replaced. He’d never played it in its entirety before. 

It starts slow. His fingers hold the ivory keys delicately, arranging for the first opening notes as if he were slotting his knuckles against your own for the first time over again.

She isn’t yours to solely keep. 

Were you ever his to keep, ever? 

Even the ivory keys of the Steinway are more solid than you ever were. You were nothing more than water, than blood, destined to slip between Eddie’s fingers. He never stood a chance in having you, in holding you, in keeping you. 

Not just now, but before all the blood shed, as well. He should have recognized Cassandra’s curse the first day he looked into your eyes. He should have known the twist in his stomach was only Fate sinking its claws into the two of you. 

A tale fit for a Shakespearean stage — a tragedy always meant to be.

“I want to roll the numbers, I want to feel my stars align again.” 

Eddie’s voice is soft to match the steady beat of piano notes that emit from the crooked curl of his hand against the keys. A soft thump, a gentle lull. And instead of losing himself in the music, he finds himself wrapped up in one of the many memories he’d chosen to lock away for the last two years.

Something was off. 

Eddie’s stomach had twisted with anxiety of something being wrong for weeks. You stopped answering his calls, his texts, every form of connection with him. But as he stood in front of the door to your shared apartment, the bile rose even higher in his throat. 

He smelt the decay of what he had done before his key had even entered the lock. 

“Would you invite me again? Won’t you pay for your arrogance? Won’t you show me your weakness?” 

You were never his to keep. 

His voice nearly cracks as he approaches the first chorus, not finding the strength behind the vocals he’d always envisioned for the song.

The click of the door opening echoed through the apartment. It felt empty the moment he’d crossed the threshold – you could have just been tucked away in the bedroom, or even in the bathroom, but he knew. 

You hadn’t been returning his phone calls. You hadn’t been returning his texts. He knew something had happened, something had changed. Irreversible damage had been done, and he would now have to face the mess he’d created to return home to. 

“I made loving you a blood sport.” 

He repeats the line until it rings in his head, over and over. Until he swears the words could crack his bones, and the stars that will show in the night sky will do nothing but mock him for the self-inflicted pain.

At first, he convinced himself you just weren’t home. You’d gone to the store or to see friends. You’d be home soon enough and then, the two of you could scream at each other all you wanted. You were angry with him, rightfully so, but he’d rather you yell and scrap with him than the alternative. He didn’t care. Because he was here, back in the flesh and willing to take any and all cruel words you had sharpened for him. The two of you would fight, yes, but at least that meant there was still something there worth fighting for.

After the first three hours, he realized with a sinking stomach that the alternative might just be his reality. 

“I want to be forgiven.” 

He recalls the look on your face when you’d first seen him today. The fall of your act, the discarding of grace and composure.

The look that told him that he can want all he’s capable of. He can want, he can crave, he can yearn, he can tear himself apart bit by bit with his feeble yet shattering cravings — it won’t change a thing. 

You were never his to keep.

After the clock struck the fifth hour of his return, he started his calling.

Over and over and over, he was met with your voicemail. Endless messages spoken and sent alike. Every single one trying to be gentle as they inquired where you were. Letting you know he was back. Going as far as to ask you if the two of you could talk. 

He wanted to fight. He wanted to fight, because it meant you still saw something worthy within him.  

But even more than Eddie wanted a fight, he wanted you to come home. He wanted you to be there, to welcome him into your safety and remind him he was human again. It was selfish – he was so goddamn selfish – but he needed to feel your skin against his and remind him that he was still a person beneath it all. Beneath the demand, beneath the unwarranted adoration from strangers, beneath all the fractures the sudden traction had left him with – he was still a breathing, living person. He was still your person. 

Eddie’s fingers begin to slam against the keys with increasing urgency as his chest heaves out with every syllable. Repeating, and repeating, and repeating the chorus as if it changes a single thing. He loses himself in it all; in the music ringing in his ears and the memories now drowning him as he confesses all his sins to the microphone. 

You never came home. 

There was no fight, and after the hours reached double digits right along with his ignored phone calls, he had to accept the truth.

You weren’t just at a friend’s, or the store. You were gone. Truly, truly gone.

The drawers once filled with your belongings were vacant. The smell of your perfume was nothing more than a whisper across the pillows. Eddie scoured the entire apartment for signs of you, turning every single piece of furniture over looking for clues. He never thought to check the counter until he’d already ruined the space, terrorizing it in a frenzy before his eyes landed on the letter and the key.

He had approached them both hesitantly. All his denial drained from his body, like the blood pumping through his veins, as his fingers pinched that silver key so gingerly.

A past he can never return to. A home he will never hold the key to again. 

The joints of his fingers ache and his lungs begin to burn for all that he lost — all that they all lost — because of him. His  own foolishness, his own downfall. He did this. 

The aftermath is blurry.

He read the first few words of your letter before promptly crumbling it with his tortured fist, knowing exactly what it said without needing to fully swallow all the words just yet.

He never fully read the letter. He skimmed it, a week later, but not that night. 

Then came the flashes of the pain. The way he’d swung his fists at air and menial objects alike. A vase holding wilted carnations met its demise on the kitchen floor, a hole in the wall appeared that he later had to patch up, one of the coffee tables ended up across the living room with a leg splintered half off. 

He never dropped the key. 

Even as he dropped to his knees in the center of the broken glass, bleeding shins to match his bruising knuckles, he still held that small piece of silver fiercely. He pressed it so tightly, dug it so deeply into his palm that it later left a scar. And not even the way he had grabbed at the broken glass surrounding him had the capability to mar it away as he let it slice his skin, crying out, hopeless and devastated. 

You were gone. He had lost you, and he had been arrogant enough to never even notice it.

“You say it doesn’t matter.” 

The headphones had long since slipped off his head, and he makes no move to adjust them. He hadn’t even noticed that his body had begun to fall forward and curl into the piano until he’s weakly choking out the final lyric that he hadn’t even written down onto the page. 

He hadn’t noticed the tears falling, either.

What were meant to be gasps for air as his fingers fly across the keys in a haunting melody are only sobs. Cries of pain as he no longer can see mere inches ahead of him, a scar of the center of his palm stinging as if brand new, his heart and head pounding in sync. He isn’t even sure if the producer he’s forgotten the name of is still recording. He lets the sobs slip out as he continues to play. 

He can’t quite end the song yet. The moment he does, he’s terrified of the version of him that he will have to face once more. All those surface blemishes from the beginning of the end had run deeper beneath his skin. He was nothing more than rubble and fractures now, splintered every which way until he had become unrecognizable. When he looked in the mirror, all he could see was a creature of destruction.

“You set off whatever bomb erased her from our lives, but it left the rest of us with some damage, too. Don’t forget that,” Gareth’s voice echoes in the silence beginning to gather between the notes.

Another wrecked sob leaves Eddie as he finally finishes off the melody, playing entirely unaffected up until that point. Reality crashes down. His body shakes, shoulders hunched as his forehead connects against the freezing wood of the piano and he pinches his eyes shut tightly enough to be left in total blackness. 

He couldn’t play another note if his life depended upon it.

The memory fades with the final note before his head rattles with a new image. The smile, the grimace, you had offered him before you two parted ways today. An effort at professionalism that Eddie had seen right through. 

Pain. That’s what had twitched in the corners of your mouth. The same pain, if not worse, as the one that now radiated through every atom of Eddie’s broken figure on the piano bench. 

He can’t fix it. Not your pain, not Gareth’s pain, not his own pain. The time for damage control, for sincere apologies and any reconciliation has passed. Just like watered-down blood through his fingertips. 

Eddie hopes that the producer has had half the mind to stop the recording when he stands and slams the drumset behind him into the wall. Destructive, just as he had been the night he returned to an empty apartment. Just as he had been when he’d been the one to rot and wither away all that you two had once held between you. 

They can replace the drum set. Surely, he has a person for that. 

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @gagasbee @d64d-n0t-sl66p1ng @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n

join my taglist!

[fedzkun]

Fedz, I am horrified by your tags. Summaries are fun and easy? I have delayed fic posting by several days because summaries are awful to write. While I have never taken longer than five minutes to find a fic title. What is your secret? Whose soul did you steal for that power?

You take FIVE MINUTES to find a fic title?! You can just pick a specific limited number of words to encompass the entirety (tone, theme, brand) of your fic within 300 seconds, the tenth of the amount of time it takes for me to wake up in the morning?! THE TITLE, which might be acronymized one day and what your readers will refer to when they talk about it in their little servers and blogs and tiktoks? Do you have any idea how much I fret over accidentally making my titles have an accidentally rude acronym? Or how sometimes my first titles are too bland, easily recreated and duplicated? You pick them in five minutes and they're iconic as is??

Summaries are fun because I literally just spit on the keyboard and the summary box is filled for me. Better than A.I. (Not that I'd ever use it). If only I could do the same for the main body of my fics.

[brother-emperors]

DECIMATION ROW

Decimation: Myth, Discipline, and Death in the Roman Republic, Michael J. Taylor / Spartacus: War of the Damned, Decimation

[svtskneecaps]

thank you for bearing with my purgatory posting and i'm also glad to see i'm not the only one who still has this fungus eating away at my brain matter. seeing other purgatory posting in the tag makes me feel better lmfao.

i'm not done btw, posting will (probably) continue as i revisit vods. wanted to extend a thanks in the interim, since i know how contentious the event was in the moment. i kinda thought the general consensus was most people hated thinking about it, but there's been a weird amount of engagement and yknow other people talking. makes me happy to know i'm not alone here!

[themogaidragon]

Tone Tags Masterlist

/srs - serious

/nsrs - not serious

/g - genuine

/genq or /gq - genuine question

/rh or /rt - rhetorical question

/j - joking

/hj - half joking

/la - laughing

/ij - inside joke

/t - teasing

/s - sarcasm

/naf - no april fool

/pc or /pos - positive conotation

/neu - neutral conotation

/nc or /neg - negative conotation

/nw - not weird intent

/nc - not creepy intent

/lh - lighthearted

/npa - not passive agressive

/nbr - not being rude

/nm - not mad or upset

/lu - a little upset

/ag - angry

/nf - not forced

/nfta - not forced to answer

/ny - not yelling

/wc - with consent

/iyc - if you’re comfortable

/p - platonically

/r or /rom - romantically

/qp - queer platonically

/ci - caring, care intended

/fam - familial

/sx - sexual intent

/nsx - not sexual intent

/ly - lyrics

/ref - reference

/li - litteral, litteraly

/m - metaphor, metaphorically

/hyp - hyperbole

/ex - exaggeration

/nbh - nobody here

/vent - venting

/rant - ranting

/nav - not a vent

/nay - not at you

/at - at you

/gy - general you

/nsb - not subtweeting

/ot - off topic

/th - threat

/cb - clickbait

/c - copypasta

/f - fake

/ma - manifesting

/derog - derogatory

[hershelwidget]

I TOLD Y'ALL IT WAS COMING

Behold! My designs for Arman and Beast!

This took a while for me to get around to posting, honestly because I kept being bothered by their proportions... But then I remembered that it doesn't matter :)

Arman possesses the Gup-A, while Beast has the Gup-B! Their designs borrow heavily from their main drivers and are probably the most obvious of the batch, haha-

Face closeups!

I've decided that y'all can use any of these as icons, but please credit me if you do!

Next up will be Caleb and Darwin, who's beta designs I might share earlier... I am gonna be working on them all through the weekend so look forward to that :D

[gillianthecat]

Reveal Your Watch & Rewatch List

Thanks for the tag @purpleguitar!

Watching:

To Sir With Love — literally i’m taking a break in the middle of an episode to check tumblr.

Eternal Yesterday — it’s phenomenal. it makes me feel so many things.

Choco Milk Shake — i ❤️ milk. i have hope for the 11th episode, i think?

Why You… Y Me? — not primarily a bl, but the bl side characters are darling.

Between Us — i am watching without having seen much of UWMA. so far it works! i ❤️ winteam.

GAP — i love cats. and so i love sam.

Oh! My Assistant — cute! i like the assistant, and how gay they let him be. it’s a little slapstick and a little short for my tastes, but i think i will enjoy it.

My School President — the first episode was like the platonic ideal of a light-hearted high school bl. i ❤️ tinn & gun.

Older Shows I’m Slooowly Making My Way Through:

Vincenzo — i did not realize it was a comedy when starting. it’s great though.

Love By Chance — i love ae and pete (and the horny roommate). i’ve kind of stalled out though. took a break when mame started maming, and haven’t come back yet.

Cutie Pie — i have to be in the right mood to buy into the historical romance style of it all, but i generally like the characters.

Minato Shouji Coin Laundry — also stalled out but plan to finish. there are many things i love, but shin is the type of seme i want to throw in a lake, so it’s been hard to get through.

Hometown Cha Cha Cha — i started it like a year ago, before i even really knew what bl was. i liked it, but it’s not really made for binging, and then once i stopped i never went back. but both @petrichoraline and my sister-in-law recommended it to me recently, so i want to pick it up again.

Rewatching:

Nothing. There’s plenty I want to, but I’m just trying to keep up with the new stuff lol.

Plan To Watch:

Everything? Can I just say that? But also I’m trying not to add anything new right now because I need to do real world things. And I’ve noticed that, now that my initial hyper-fixation has ebbed, I get overwhelmed if I’m watching too much at once.

I will limit myself to tagging 10 people but really I want to tag everyone, so if you are interested consider yourself 🏷ed: @lelephantsnail @petrichoraline @clairificusrex @poetry-protest-pornography @benkaaoi @callipigio @shortpplfedup @bl-asted (welcome to tumblr!) @waitmyturtles @moonchildridden

[viscerast]

mutuals did you know i was important on twitter

[confusedkeyssys]

Tone tag masterlist!!!!! :]]]

I know we just posted, but the idea popped up and I had to post this before I forget

Here's a masterlist of tone tags and their meanings, along with examples :] Note that it's only the ones I know so far and please feel free to tell us if I missed anything!

Click the "Keep reading" for the masterlist <3

--------------------

/j - Joking - Used to indicate when the tone of text/speech is a joking one, or to indicate that something is a joke and/or someone is joking {Ex: "I lit the dog on fire again /j" "You're a damn fool timothy /j"}

/hj - Half-Joking - Used to indicate when the tone of text/speech is one that is half or partially joking, or to indicate that something is partially a joke or someone is partially joking {Ex: "My dog will bite you /hj" "Well then i guess i'm santa claus /hj"}

/hsrs - Half-Serious - Means the same thing as /hj, but usually has more serious undertones, or more on the serious side {Ex: "Aw darn it the cat broke another fine china /hsrs" "they have no idea what that is /hsrs"

/srs - Serious - Used to indicate when the tone of text/speech is serious, or that one is not joking, and that what is being discussed is not a joke {Ex: "My sister just ran outside to catch a worm /srs" "I lost my limited edition jesus christ plushie /srs"}

/pos - Positive - Used to indicate when the tone of text/speech is a positive one, that what is said is in a positive or non-insulting manner, or that something is positive and uplifting {Ex: "HE LOOKS LIKE A WORM /pos" "Jason just got like 6 dollars in xer bank account /pos"}

/neu - Neutral - Used to indicate when the tone of text/speech is a neutral one, that what is said is in neither a negative or positive manner, or that someone is neutral on a topic {Ex: "i think umber needs to get off the subreddit /neu" "Oh my god he has a baby face /neu"

/neg - Negative - Used to indicate when the tone of text/speech is a negative one, that what is said is in a negative or insulting manner, or that something is negative and gloomy {Ex: "Their haircut looks like walter white /neg" "THIS SODA TASTES LIKE ARTIFICIAL FLAVOURING /neg"}

/sar or /sarc - Sarcasm - Used to indicate when the tone or text/speech is a sarcastic one, that what is said is in a sarcastic manner, or that what is said is sarcasm {Ex: "i love being single /sar" "Yeah sure you totally dont like xim /sarc"}

/ref - Reference - Used to indicate that something is a reference to something else, like a show, movie, book, video game, or other {usually fictional} work {Ex: "Thats because ey have 70 alternate accounts /ref" "sorry my girlboss but your princess is in another castle /ref"

/lyr - Lyric{s} - Used to indicate that what was said are the lyrics of a particular song {Ex: "A PETTY LINE OF WHITE NOISE PACK UP YOUR BAGS AND THROW OUT THE TOYS /lyr" "i kissed a girl and i liked it the taste of her cherry chapstick /lyr"}

/p - Platonic - Used to indicate when something that can be interpreted as romantic is platonic and not with romantic tone or gesture, or to indicate that something is platonic {Ex: "god i love you so much /p" "Yeah rai're my damn wife /p"

Thats all of them for now :] I know I definitely missed some, and I suggest doing your own research into tone tags and tone tag carrds and these can also be very helpful {Also, tone tags are also sometimes called "Tone indicators" if that helps at all}

Edit: An anon sent a large list of tone tags to add to the masterlist so I'm putting them here! {Ty, anon!} {I'm also copypasting them and not adding descriptions because I'm lazy but I'll probably get to it later(Hopefully-)}

/j = joking /hj = half joking /mj = mostly joking /nj = not joking /ij = inside joke /s or /sarc = sarcastic / sarcasm /nsar or /nsarc = not sarcastic /srs = serious /msrs = mostly serious /nsrs = not serious /g or /gen = genuine /gq or /genq = genuine question /rt or /rh = rhetorical question /naq = not a question /lh = light hearted /t = teasing /nm = not mad /u = upset /lu = little upset /vu = very upset /nu = not upset /ay = at you /nay = not at you /nbr = not being rude /nbm = not being mean /nbh = nobody here /sbh = somebody here /th = threat /nath = not a threat /cb = clickbait /f = fake /nf = not fake /q = quote /l or /ly or /lyr = lyrics /c = copypasta /m = metaphor / metaphorically /li or /lit = literal / literally /hyp = hyperbole /p = platonic /r = romantic /fl = flirting /nfl = not flirting /sx or /x = sexual intent /nsx or /ns = not sexual intent /pc or /pos = positive connotation /nc or /neg = negative connotation /neu = neutral connotation /vpos = very positive /vneg = very negative /e = embarrassed /nabr = not a brag /br = bragging /nafx = not a flex /fx = flex /st or /state = statement /nao = not an order /ao = an order /nav = not a vent /ny = not yelling /ot = off topic /irre = irrelevant /unre = unrelated /npa = not passive aggressive /pa = passive aggressive /c or /conf = confused /av = a vent /nav = not a vent /ex = exaggerated /aff = affectionate (i.e. I hate you /aff) /tech = technical /h = helpful /ns = not sure /fi = figuratively /curi = curious /sg or /sug = suggestion /tys = typing stim /stim = stim /sat = satire

[wildwren]

absolutely not trying to detract from the aldflaed renaissance that is happening here, 100% support, i ship them too BUT what only the initiated understand is that aldflaed IS the narrative sequel to aethelrik, the problematic and deeply unhinged 'are we in love or are we just trauma bonding? lets fuck until one of us dies horribly' ship (which is widely misunderstood but that's a different post) one cannot exist without the other, they are two sides of the same coin, two nodes of the same story and most importantly, in combination they create thee most perfect geometrical ship form: the aldrikflaed. and i don't know how to tell you this but no one truly no one is more powerful than them

[universal-kitty]

I'm rarely even here anymore, but. If I'm gonna update my F/O list to. Actually work as intended, may as well keep on the work I continue to intend to do while I'm here. LMAO

SO!! F/O List update. Names below that I'm adding... It's basically all XIV except for four guys. Only four. RIP!

EDIT: Had to throw in names I forgot that got put into F/O territory, and then just-?? Didn't have their places on the list prior??? May as well add them to the rest of the update folks- (And that's a +1 to nonXIV folks...but a +1 also TO XIV folks, so. Y'know.)

Alan Orion

Altan Olkund (OC)

Astarion

Caim

Estinien Varlineau

Esugen Oronir

Feo Ul

Folques

Hythlodaeus

I'karus Tia (OC)

Sunny Day Jack / Joseph Cullman

Joseph Desaulnier

Leofard Myste

Mauci Dorthal

Omega

Seiryu

Thancred Waters

Themis [Elidibus]

Valmir Djt-setlas (OC)

[maladaptvs]

actually i’m making my own tone tag masterlist because i don’t like the available ones (weird and unused tags, missing tags)

/pos - positive connotation

/neg - negative connotation

/neu - neutral

/nm - not mad

/nmay - not mad at you

/p - platonic

/r - romantic

/nsx - nonsexual

/sx - sexual

/j - joking

/hj - half-joking

/lh - lighthearted

/lhj - lighthearted joke

/srs - serious

/nsrs - not serious

/sar or /s - sarcasm

/exg - exaggeration

/info - sharing information

/rt - rhetorical (question)

/aff - affectionate

/t - teasing

/aimed - a comment (such as something posted, or something in a groupchat) aimed at a specific person. (typically this will be something vague/ambiguous).

and as a note, these are communication aids. do not misuse them. mwah.

[stellarspecter]

I’m seeing you reblogging NPMD stuff and am curious and want to watch it but some of the posts seem to imply a kind of canon continuity, is there a specific order of things to watch?

yes! npmd is the third in a series of musicals set in the hatchetfield universe, which the town where they all take place. the first one is the guy who didn't like musicals, then black friday, then nerdy prudes must die. starkid also did a series called nightmare time over the pandemic, which was basically a bunch of short stories set in the hatchetfield universe and performed over zoom. you don't need to watch them (i didn't lol) since my understanding is that not all of them are canon to the musicals, but there is some extra lore in there.

however there is some timeline fuckery going on, so they're not actually all sequential storywise. they're basically all set in slightly alternate universes to each other? just in the same town and with some of the same characters. npmd is pretty accessible if you want to watch it first, it just might be surprising when the supernatural stuff comes out of left field lol. there are also a few cameos from previous musicals, but nothing too confusing (i think).

i hope this helps and if you end up watching it i hope you enjoy it!

[nivq87]

related thoughts:

my butterfly chasing has me tinkering with my tumblr blog page, and it's a wip atm (the html needs a LOT of adjusting atm) and my about and tags pagers are pretty out of date. so, I'll try and work on that over the week I suppose

my complaining tag hasn't been used in a few years. at first I thought I was just trying harder to keep the negativity off my blog (which I also do) but then I was actually reading some of the posts and. oh gosh. those were some Big emotions I was dealing with. Glad to not be That guy anymore. Your 20's really just kinda suck, but since you're out of your teens it feels unfair because you should be Beyond such angst. but. nope. apparently it'll keep going a bit longer. Fascinating collection of posts over the years as a retrospective.

[byanyan]

CHARACTER SHEET

FULL NAME. yeong-hwan byun / 변영환 NICKNAME. byan, ya ya, kid, xevi/voxevi ALIASES. n/a PRONOUNS. they/them SIZE. 5'10 AGE. 17 ZODIAC. cancer SPOKEN LANGUAGES. english (fluent, primary), korean (fluent, secondary), japanese (beginner to intermediate, inconsistently learning)

𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 ―

HAIR. black, just shy of shoulder-length. usually pulled back in a half ponytail. (literally this. no i'm still not over it) FACIAL HAIR. none. it makes them extremely dysphoric. EYES. dark brown SKIN TONE. warm beige BODY TYPE. ecto-mesomorph — lean but with some decent muscle. VOICE. average in pitch, leaning a little high. loud and brash. they curse heavily, use a lot of contractions, and drop syllables from some longer words — basically, they tend to pronounce words in the easiest way rather than the correct way (ie. they'll always say prob'ly instead of probably). DOMINANT HAND. right POSTURE. decent, though they have a tendency to slouch when they sit. SCARS. far more than someone their age should have, so we'll stick with the most significant ones: a great deal of messy scarring across their knuckles from all assortment of violence, and many marks from knives and broken glass all over their arms. a decently-sized burn on their left shoulder. a large, long scar running from the lower part of the right side of their ribcage on their back, around to their side where it stops just above their hip. a stab wound on their left thigh. BIRTHMARKS. none MOST NOTABLE FEATURES. large, deceptively innocent-looking eyes. big crooked grin. numerous very visible tattoos and scars, most noticeably across their hands and arms.

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃 ―

PLACE OF BIRTH. verse dependent (i am indecisive) HOMETOWN. see above SIBLINGS. none that they know of, but there could be some out there. PARENTS. unknown. all they know of their biological mother is that her last name is byun. their biological father is a complete mystery. they had a set of adoptive parents for their first four years of life, and since then have gone through many caretakers and foster parents.

𝐀𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 ―

OCCUPATION. high school student CURRENT RESIDENCE. verse dependent. usually in a group home for kids in the foster care system in some large city, but their actual home changes fairly often. CLOSE FRIENDS. few and far between. these friends vary across verses and in their closeness. FINANCIAL STATUS. poor. they have minimal financial support through group homes/foster care and otherwise steal to support themself. DRIVER'S LICENSE. nope, and they shouldn't be trusted with one. CRIMINAL RECORD. theft, robbery, burglary, breaking and entering, trespassing, vandalism, arson, assault, manslaughter, resisting arrest, lying to law enforcement, purchase of a controlled substance, sale of a controlled substance, possession of a controlled substance, underage drinking, underage drug use, public intoxication, document forgery. VICES. alcohol and drugs, smoking, violence, constant lying, reckless self-endangerment, shoplifting and pickpocketing.

𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ―

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. pansexual. no real preference on gender; they're more attracted to how one chooses to express themself than what their gender is. PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE. emotions? ew. (they don't know) PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE. n/a TURN OFFS. n/a TURN ON'S. n/a LOVE LANGUAGE. gift giving & receiving RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES. skittish. they tend to run the moment they realize how close they've let themself get to someone, and good luck getting them to come back. also very inexperienced and not particularly open. struggles with physical touch. fairly selfish.

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐒 ―

CHARACTER'S THEME TUNE. boxer by stra.y kids is still my go-to, though it somehow only just recently struck me that bt.s' fire is also incredibly well-suited. HOBBIES TO PASS THE TIME. outfit design, stick and poke tattooing, knife tricks, parkour/freerunning, pickpocketing, shoplifting, substance use, picking fights. LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED. right SELF-CONFIDENCE LEVEL. high. too high. they need to be knocked down a few pegs.

tagged by:ㅤ@ohshadow thank you! ♡ tagging:ㅤyou if you are also a freak who loves filling out character sheets