#tw: implied/referenced emotional abuse

[mugloversonly]

Silver over Gold

Ch 3: Kintsugi - Final

Ch.1 Ch.2 AO3

Summary:

Steve and Eddie finally talk.

Steve stood outside Eddie’s door horrified by what he heard on the other side. Eddie was sobbing and his inner omega was whining weakly. “Eddie? Baby can I come in?” He pleaded.

“Alpha?” Eddie cried softly. “Door’s locked.” His voice was fading into a whisper. “I’m sorry alpha.”

Steve didn’t think twice about ripping the door of the hinges; he'd fix it later, he just hoped Wayne would understand. His omega needed him and his alpha would stop at nothing to help him (for once he was in total agreement). The smashing of the door echoed through the whole trailer but Eddie didn’t seem to notice. He was curled up on his side in the corner of the room with his head tucked against his knees, shaking violently. Steve rushed over to him and gently swept his hair out of his face. He gasped when he saw his beautiful omega. “Oh, Eddie.” He whispered. He was paler than usual, practically translucent. His lively chocolate eyes were red rimmed and puffy, empty as they stared up at him. Steve wasn’t even sure if Eddie could see him right now.

“I’m sorry alpha.” Eddie whispered. Steve stared at him hoping for some awareness in his eyes but there still wasn’t anything. He must be speaking unconsciously.

“Sh,” Steve cooed. “I’m right here, omega. Your alpha is right here. I'm not going anywhere.” He ran his hands up and down Eddie’s arms and kissed him on the forehead. His skin was freezing to the touch and if Steve didn’t know better he’d think he just came out of Lover’s Lake.

He took him into his arms, laid them back in Eddie’s nest, and removed their shirts for skin contact, pulling the blanket over them for good measure . Steve made sure to hold the omega’s nose directly onto his scent gland. He didn’t know much about rejection sickness, but from what he learned in school one way to cure it was through comforting touch and scents. Eddie barely moved and didn’t acknowledge Steve at all. Steve was having a hard time staying calm but the whines and howling of his omega were helping him to stay focused.

H is shivering finally subsided and Eddie fell into a light haze. He pulled back from Steve and his eyes were a bit clearer. “Stevie?” He asked. At Steve’s nod he threw himself back. He didn’t deserve to be held like this. He was a bad omega. His alpha didn’t love him and it was all his fault. Steve didn’t let him get far before he was yanking him right back in. He ran his fingers through his tangled hair and nuzzled his neck. “I’m sorry Steve. I should’ ve trusted you . I'm a bad omega.” He sobbed but Steve clapped a hand over his mouth.

“You're not a bad omega Eddie. You're my omega.” Steve said. He felt more than heard Eddie’s gasp and watched as his wet eyes widened. He reached up and pulled Steve’s hand off his mouth.

“I’m still your omega?” He whispered hopeful yet terrified.

“Yes, darling.” Steve replied caressing his cheek. Eddie put his hand over Steve’s and held it there.

“You still want to be my alpha? After everything I put you through?” Steve looked deep into Eddie’s eyes and kissed him on the nose.

“You didn’t put me through anything. I will always be your alpha. Even if you decided you wanted nothing to do with me, I will be here waiting. There is nothing you could do that would drive me away. I will never leave you.” He promised. “Let me apologize now.”

“No, Steve you don’t owe me anything.” Eddie said clutching his shirt. “I was the one in the wrong.”

“No you weren’t. I was scared. I didn’t stop to consider that I was stringing you along.” He bowed his head as tears finally spilled over. “I love you, Eddie. I never want you to doubt that. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. And I’m sorry the first time I said it was in an argument.” He grabbed Eddie’s face and tilted it until their lips were barely a millimeter apart. “I would never lie to you. I know why you would think that. Wayne told me. Just know, that the most important person in my life, is right here in my arms. Okay?”

“Except Robin?” He knew it was shitty, but he needed to know.

“No my lovely omega. Even more important than Robin.” He kissed him then. A quick press of lips, there and gone in mere moments. “Robin is my best friend and I won’t stop loving her or change how she and I are with each other. But you’re my future mate, and nothing is more important than you feeling secure in us.” Eddie surged forward and kissed him hard practically shoving his tongue down his throat.

“I don’t want you to stop being friends with Robin or anything like that, Stevie. It’s just…” Eddie knew he had to let Steve hear some of this from him. “The pups constantly tell me how you two were made for each other and how it’s only a matter of time for you two to mate.” Eddie looked down. “I guess, with you wanting to keep it a secret and when I ask about courting you brush it off, mix that with Dustin asking me to find out if you’re secretly dating Robin and I thought it was only a matter of time before you stopped what we had and went with her. And when I saw you two together, I thought it finally happened and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me first.” His voice broke on that last word.

“Wait a second...the pups have been saying what?!” Steve yelled out startling the omega and causing him to whimper. “Sorry.” He took a few calming breaths before asking again. “The pups have been telling you that Robin and I are secretly together?”

“Basically.” Eddie admitted.

“No wonder you didn’t believe me.” Steve scoffed. “Don’t worry my love I’ll set the record straight as soon as I can.” He snuggled Eddie closer and kissed his hair.

“You don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with Steve. Not for my sake.” He understood that it may be hard for Steve since he had only dated female omegas before. But his alpha just rolled his eyes.

“I’ll put an ad in the newspaper try me.” He laughed. “It’ll say something like: I, Steven Anthony Harrington am courting and plan to mate with the beautiful” he leaned over and nuzzled against Eddie’s scent gland causing the omega to giggle. “Wonderful, remarkable, one of a kind, Edward Wayne Munson.” He nipped lightly at his neck. “I will don’t tempt me.”

Light finally returned to Eddie’s eyes. “Thank you.” He whispered. Steve knew he was thanking him for much more but Steve didn’t want him to feel grateful that Steve treated him like a worthy partner.

“No thanks necessary. I’m not going to hide any more okay? In fact, close your eyes.” he said. When Eddie did so, he reached into his pocket to pull something out that he fastened around Eddie’s pale throat and kissed him softly. “Open.”

Eddie opened his eyes and gasped. It was the most unique courting gift he’d ever received. Pure silver because he mentioned to Steve once that it was his favorite precious metal. The pendant was a perfect copy of his warlock with small rubies creating the red lightening. As he took a closer look, he realized the neck of the guitar was actually Steve’s nail bat. It was the perfect combination of them.

His chest no longer felt tight and his nose tickled as his blood orange scent began pouring out of his scent gland. It was faint, but it was there. Steve beamed and pushed his nose to the source and took a big inhale. “Thank you, Alpha. I accept your request to court.” Eddie said in the traditional manner. He pulled away. “I’ll give you something I scented in return once it gets back to normal.” Eddie promised. Steve nodded and pulled him into another kiss. This one was more heated and while Eddie did feel better and the sickness was receding, he wasn’t ready to go very far. He leaned back slightly but stayed close so the alpha knew he was okay. “Is it alright, if we take it slow?” He couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Whatever you need.” Steve said tilting his head up. “What ever you want. It’s yours.” He said more like an oath than a promise.

“I threw away your yellow sweater. I’m sorry. I know it was your favorite.” He admitted ashamed. Steve slid away and for a second Eddie thought he was leaving, but before he could let out a single noise of protest he was getting hit in the face with soft cotton. In his hands was the best thing he'd ever seen.

“Wayne said he saw you throw it away and figured you were just upset.” Eddie smiled.

“He knows me so well.”

“I’d hope so, he is your dad and all.” Steve said. “Speaking of, I’d like to formally ask him to court you. I know you already said yes, but it’s traditional to ask an omega’s parent.” Eddie beamed.

“You really do love me, don’t you?” He asked.

“I do. I love you so much. I want to court you and mate with you. I want to see you round with my pups.” Steve replied and laid down pulling Eddie with him. “I want us to smell like one another so there’s no mistaking who we belong to.”

“How long have you had this necklace by the way?” Eddie asked the pendant clutched in his hand.

“Since right after spring break.” He admitted. At Eddie’s raised eyebrows he sheepishly said “I told you, I’ve wanted to court you for a long time.”

The two talked a bit more about their insecurities and about Eddie’s past trauma with alphas. When the alpha that hurt him came up again, Steve growled. “Give me a name.” The fire in his eyes would have scared Eddie if it was directed at him. But at the moment, it may have made him a bit slick. He’d never had an alpha want to protect him like this.

“If I tell you, can you promise you won’t do anything crazy?” Eddie asked.

“No.” Steve said. “I promised no lies.” He defended at Eddie’s snort.

“You did, you did. Okay, just promise you’ll be careful.” Steve agreed to that and motioned for Eddie to continue. “It was Tommy Hagan my first senior year.” He admitted. The scent of burning woods filled the his nostrils.

“When?” Steve growled. Had he still been friends with Tommy?

“We started courting in August. The heat we spent together was in November.”

“You were the omega he couldn’t shut up about?” Steve asked. Eddie shrugged.

“I guess. Weird that he couldn’t shut up about me when he cheated on me with Carol.” Eddie said meekly. The faint blood orange Eddie was finally emitting was turning sour and he was trying to pump out calming omega pheromones to calm Steve, but it didn’t seem to be working well due to the dull nature of it.

“Sorry, sorry.” Steve said as he willed himself to calm down. “It’s not important right now.” He stood and pulled Eddie to his feet.

“What is important is getting you checked out by a doctor. Let’s let Wayne know and we can go okay?” Steve asked. Eddie nodded and the two got dressed with some difficulty since they refused to let go of each other. Steve wore his yellow sweater so it would smell like him again and Eddie pulled on his favorite band tee. On their way out of the trailer they wrote a note for Wayne and Steve walked Eddie to the passenger side. He opened the door and kept a firm hand in Eddie’s until he was seated. Eddie watched on amused as Steve practically sprinted around the car so they could spend the least amount apart as possible.

~ ~~

At the hospital, the Doctor that saw him last time was able to see him again. “Eddie, this one could have killed you if your alpha hadn’t come when he did. To help you get back on your feet it’ll be good for the two of you to spend the next 48 to 72 hours together. Now for cases like yours we have a new type of medication that can stop rejection sickness from getting worse once it starts. I’m giving you a prescription for that. And I want you to go back to taking the preventive ones for a while.” He looked between the two men knowingly. “I’d say until you’ve mated. After that, you should be okay to stop them. But, keep the emergency one on you at all times. It could be the difference between life and death.” He said before leaving them with a nurse. She gave Eddie some fluids in an IV that were supposed to help him return to normal and then they were on their way.

“So, what now?” Eddie asked. Steve took his hand again.

“Let me take you out on the town? Then we can go back to the trailer and cuddle?” He asked. Eddie blushed and his blood orange scent finally filled the car in full force.

"I'd like that."

@v3lv3tf0x @lexirosewrites Final part!

That's a wrap on this one. But I do have plans to write some Robin POV and what Steve does the next time he sees Tommy.

[schrijverr]

I Didn’t Mean to Say I Do, but I Do. I Do. 13

Chapter 13 out of 50

Secret marriage of convenience buddie slow burn AU, where Buck and Eddie have been married for years so Buck could adopt Chris and no one at the 118 knows.

In this chapter, Eddie gets job offers from multiple houses, including the 118. He really wants to take it, however, discussing it with Buck reveals that the 118 doesn’t know he’s married. The reality that the offer will likely be taken away if they know, makes the two of them come up with a scheme. It’s the start of a lie that snowballs into something much bigger.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie (slow burn)

Warnings: implied ableism, emotionally abusive parents, internalized misogyny, internalized homophobia, insecurity

~~~

Chapter 13: The Job Offer

Both of them working is fucking hard. Right now Eddie still has regular hours, but he is done later than Chris is done with school. So, they’ve had to rely on Pepa picking him up on her lunch hour to drive him to Abuela, even Buck had claimed a minor personal emergency to tend to once or twice to step in when she couldn’t.

He isn’t sure what the talk behind his back is about why he is more stressed and what his emergency could be and he doesn’t care. He is just trying to make it through this, find a new rhythm that works for all of them. It’s only a matter of time, he tries to tell himself though that doesn’t always help during the dark nights when insecurities eat at him.

Eddie isn’t doing much better, every day his mom’s words ring through his ears: ‘Come on, do not drag Chris down with you, because you are too stubborn.’

‘Do not drag Chris down with you, because you are too stubborn.’

‘Do not drag Chris down with you.’

Fuck, he hates that they’ve implanted that idea in his brain, that he can’t just write it off and forget about it. That it feels like a condemnation as much as a challenge. That he wants to prove them wrong so bad, but sometimes it feels like he’ll never be able to and he’ll have to return to Texas, embarrassed and humiliated.

However, despite all their fears, it is working. They’re making it. Buck’s rigorous meal prepping is paying off, making them more relaxed and enabling them to keep up with chores. It’s not too different from when they were both working in El Paso, they just have to get back into the groove again. With the way they seamlessly formed a team the first time around, it isn’t that hard.

And Eddie is glad that it’s working out, because he loves firefighting. The physicality of it is nice, as is the camaraderie, even in the academy, plus he’s good at it. Buck keeps asking him what scores he’s getting, cocky if he’d done better and playfully sour if he didn’t. It’s fun.

He’s flying through the academy with good results, great ones even. And the end of his training is close enough that he’s getting job offers.

One of those offers is from one Captain Robert Nash of the 118.

That’s Buck’s house, Eddie recognizes the name and number easily. Buck is proud of the people he serves with and speaks highly of Bobby. He’s heard nothing but great things about everyone there and it sounds like a great place to work.

It would make him less anxious to go in knowing everyone a bit already and having a person there he knows he can work well with. He isn’t the most social, so it’ll be a nice in.

However, he probably should decline, or ask if there’s a position in the B shift he can work instead, so he can still also work at the 118 and have some of those knowing people benefits. With two people taking care of Chris is already much easier than it would have been if he were to have done this alone. If he works B shift, they’d be on opposite schedules, much like that first year taking care of Chris together.

Working B shift is the smartest thing to do. Then they can almost always be sure that the other is there to drive Chris where he needs to go, help him with homework and feed him. It’s the whole reason they got married in the first place.

But… But then there is the note that goes with the offer. The note that says that Bobby has been looking for a partner for his most recent probie who is now almost full fledged firefighter, who is a bit reckless and needs someone to balance him out and have his back, instead of working together with floaters or B shift taking an extra shift, and that he thinks Eddie will be a good fit.

And Eddie finds himself agreeing with that and wanting to take it, wanting to be the one that backs up Buck and keeps him out of danger, ensuring that he’ll come home.

He knows Buck can be stubborn when he thinks he’s right and prone to jumping in head first without thinking things through. It’s probably how he ended up raising Chris with Eddie, because he’s too kind and he’d do anything to help a stranger. It’s one of the things Eddie appreciates so much about him, but Bobby describes it as being reckless in the field. Eddie can’t have Buck be reckless.

It is purely selfish, but Eddie wants Buck to stay around, to be his friend, his co-parent… his husband. He needs Buck to come home to him, he’s too reliant on the man – loathe he is to admit he relies on anyone – and if he’s out there being reckless, then Eddie wants to make sure Buck doesn’t get himself killed for being a dumbass. Keep him safe.

Maybe Bobby thinks that having Eddie there as a reminder that Buck has a family that needs him too will help. They’re not married like that, but maybe Buck didn’t explain well or Bobby didn’t get it or he thinks it works either way.

Eddie isn’t sure, but he knows that even if he won’t work as a reminder, he’s gotten plenty good at working with Buck and keeping him in check. If he can talk him out of a bouncy castle for Chris’s birthday party, he can probably talk him out of doing something stupid or reckless or, god forbid, self sacrificing.

So he desperately wants to take the offered job on the 118 A shift, even if it’s not the smartest choice logistically.

His mind is practically already made up, but he feels like he owes it to his family to consider the other options. The options that would make it easier to schedule everything. Which means he’s on the couch with all the offers he’s been made and going through them carefully.

That is how Buck finds him later when he comes back after a run, which he has been doing more since he decided he wanted to submit for that calender. Eddie has been fondly rolling his eyes about how seriously he’s taking it. But it’s kind of sweet in a dorky way too, he supposes.

Chris is with tía Pepa today, since she told them under no uncertain terms he needed better clothes and she had better taste. Neither of them felt like arguing with her and neither could really afford to say no to free clothes. Chris is growing like a weed.

Buck comes up behind him, leaning over the back of the couch to see what Eddie is looking at. “Oh, wow, you got a lot of offers.”

Eddie tips his head back to look at him, smirking: “You jealous?”

“Uhm, excuse you, I got a lot of offers too,” Buck guffaws, mock offended.

“Sure, you did,” Eddie says playing at patronizing.

“Har, har,” Buck replies, before nodding at all the files and asking: “Have you got your eye on one yet or are you still trying to decide?” He rounds the couch and falls down next to him, eagerly saying: “I’m pretty connected, I can give you house gossip if you want. So you can make a better informed decision of course.”

“Of course,” Eddie snorts. “Actually, I know quite a bit already about the house I’m contemplating the most,” he adds nonchalantly, giving Buck a look.

For a moment, Buck seems confused, then the realization dawns on him and his eyes light up. “Bobby made you an offer?”

“Yeah, apparently he has a stubborn asshole and he needs someone to keep him in check,” Eddie teases him with a nudge.

“Oi, I’m not that bad.”

“Who said I was talking about you.”

Buck is quiet for a second, then says: “Okay, fair enough. But still, I’m sure he didn’t call me a stubborn asshole.”

“Nah, I filled in the blanks,” Eddie says. “He called you a capable yet reckless firefighter, who needs someone to balance him out.”

“See, that’s way nicer.”

“I can be nice.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Buck grins. “So, are you going to take it?” he asks, sounding both curious as well as excited and nervous at the same time.

“I’m thinking about it, yeah,” Eddie answers honestly. He stares at his hands, suddenly his need to be Buck’s partner in the field feels like an admission, though he doesn’t know of what. “I should probably try to get on the B shift or find another house though, so one of us can be home for Chris. Opposite schedules and all that.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Buck agrees, but Eddie thinks he sounds a little sad and wilted.

Eddie’s hands wring together and he still doesn’t meet Buck’s eyes. Quietly he says: “I kinda wanna take it. I mean, if we work the same schedule, then it’s technically only two schedules we need to match. Plus, we already know we work well together, who knows who we’d get stuck with otherwise, you know.”

Buck perks up slightly at that. “Yeah, I think it’ll be fun to work together and I think we can figure it out with Abuela and tía Pepa, but it’s your job, you gotta decide if you want to take it. This is about what you want. I’m in your corner whatever you decide.”

It’s never about what Eddie wants. The sentence feels novel. A weird feeling goes through Eddie and he is embarrassed to realize it’s excitement. He is excited that it’s about what he wants. That is so humiliating. To be excited about that.

Still, Buck is looking at him with that open, honest expression, patiently awaiting Eddie’s decision and he should just take a B shift position or accept another house, but fuck it, he wants to work with Buck. He wants to do this job he loves with people he actually likes. He should be prioritizing Chris, but Buck is right, they’ll figure it out. They’ve been managing thus far, haven’t they?

“I want to take the job,” Eddie decides after a moment. “Someone has to keep you in check, your Captain even said so.”

“He did not.”

“He totally did. Guess, he figured that since I married you, I could make sure you didn’t do something too stupid,” Eddie jokes, before adding thoughtfully: “I never really thought about it, but I assumed there would be a policy against married people working together. But I suppose we’re not together-together, so it probably doesn’t count?”

Idly he looks over at Buck, doing a double take when he watches Buck’s face drop into something vaguely guilty.

“What?”

“Uhm, they- they don’t know I’m married,” Buck answers, rubbing the back of his head. “You don’t legally have to declare marital status, so I didn’t. Then I, uh, just kind of didn’t mention it?”

Eddie blinks a few times, trying to process that. Buck didn’t tell his coworkers he’s married. Bobby offered him this job without knowing Eddie is married to Buck. They’re not together-together, but they’re a unit, legally even! And they don’t know?

“So, you didn’t tell them you were married, but you told them you were co-parenting Chris with someone, right? Maybe even mentioned that someone is me?” Eddie’s voice is a little shrill as he asks that and he doesn’t know why he’s so upset.

“Uh, I- I didn’t mention you or Chris,” Buck says, voice small.

“What?” Eddie feels a little ill all of a sudden. “You spend nearly an entire year with these people and you never once mentioned you had a son? You didn’t mention Chris? Like, at all?”

“It never came up,” Buck shrugs, not meeting his eyes.

It never came up. A year of working with people, who he has gotten very close with, who he talks about a lot, and yet he never mentioned Chris. Or Eddie. He is selfishly upset about that last part, but he doesn’t want to talk about it. He’s not some emotional pussy, who is upset his friend didn’t mention him to his other friends. No, of course not. He’s just angry on Chris’s behalf.

“Really?” he scoffs. “You didn’t mention either of us for a whole year? What? Are you embarrassed of Chris, is that it? Did you not want to share with your coworkers that you had a disabled kid or something?”

“What the fuck, Eddie. Of course not,” Buck swears. “I can’t believe you’d think that of me, I love that kid to death.”

“Yeah and not even mention he exists at work really shows that, huh?”

“You don’t understand.”

“Then make me understand!”

“Chris is yours. Okay? He’s yours. He’ll always be yours first,” Buck yells, flying from the couch to pace as he rants. “He’s your kid and no matter what I do, nothing can change that. One day you’re going to find someone and divorce me and I will lose him forever. And that fucking sucks, okay? And you don’t get that. And when I got here, I thought you’d divorce me the second you got your certifications, so I’m sorry, I didn’t mention the kid I was about to lose to people I just met and then felt too awkward to bring it up, because they’ve built this whole life for me that I don’t have.”

Buck is breathing heavily, standing on the other side of the coffee table as Eddie looks at him with shocked eyes. The fight slowly leaves him and exhaustion creeps in. He rubs a tired hand over his face and sighs.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” is what Eddie says, before his brain catches up. He grimaces and quickly adds: “Sorry, I mean- You’re not gonna lose Chris, Buck. You’re never going to lose him. Not even when we divorce. Chris loves you. You’re his father. I’m not gonna let another parent walk away from him, especially when said parent doesn’t want to go. You’re gonna be in his life forever, man, I’m sorry, but you’re stuck now.”

When he’s done, Buck tears up slightly. Eddie tenses, worrying what he’s done wrong now. He’s bad at talking about emotions, he knows that and Buck was already insecure about it and now he probably made it worse.

Before he can spiral, Buck is back across the room again, pulling Eddie into a tight hug as he whispers a forceful: “Thank you.”

Eddie feels a little overwhelmed and hugs back the best he can, saying: “Of course.”

They stand there for a moment. Eddie is a little wracked by guilt for letting Buck think he’d just take Chris away from him – for practically a year now – so he holds Buck for as long as Buck wants to, pushing away his own twisted feelings that are probably discomfort. He tries not to think about them, because then he’d feel guilty about those feelings too.

After a few minutes, Buck steps back, taking a deep breath, before clearing his throat. “Okay, I’m okay now. I’m normal again.”

Eddie snorts at that, breaking the tension. Curiously he asks: “So, can I know what sort of life they’ve built for you?”

“Uh, they think I still live in a frat house and have hook ups every night,” Buck says sheepishly, making Eddie giggle.

“Oh my god, that is so funny,” Eddie says. “You’re the opposite of a frat bro. Honestly, you’re closer to a house wife than I ever was, even when I was injured and at home.”

“Yeah, I just have a frat boy face and I did have that hook up phase that sadly bled into my professional life for a few weeks there,” Buck says.

“If I take the job and tell them we’re co-parenting Chris, do you think their brains will break?” he asks, shit eating grin.

“Probably,” Buck snorts, before he starts thinking it through: “Though I don’t know if they’d still offer you the job if you tell them that. You do have to sign a relationship disclosure if you start dating a coworker, but they probably assume that that’s a step before marrying someone and that they’ll notice if they hire a married couple.”

Eddie feels something curl in on itself in his chest at the thought of the job offer at the 118 being withdrawn. So, he points out: “But that is about romantic entanglements and we don’t have that, so that doesn’t really apply to us.”

“Yeah, no, it doesn’t,” Buck agrees, waving his hand as to say obviously. “But I don’t know if they’d count it anyway. It has to do with judgment in the field and if you can be impartial. You can still work together, but couples do get separated about it sometimes and they try to avoid it if they can.”

“But you don’t have to disclose marital status,” Eddie checks, a stupid idea forming in his brain.

“No, that is like a personal thing, I think it’s against the law to ask, but I don’t know for sure,” Buck answers.

“So… if I don’t say anything, they wouldn’t know,” Eddie points out slowly, waiting to see if Buck catches on to what he means and what he thinks about it.

“No, I suppose they wo- Oh. Ohhhh,” Buck replies, eyes wide, before a smirk replaces his epiphany face. It’s kind of adorable. How a grown man can look so much like a puppy, Eddie doesn’t know. “You’re proposing a scheme.”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it a scheme per se,” Eddie smirks back playfully, “more like a strategic sharing of information where relevant.”

“It’s totally a scheme.”

“Alright, fine. It can be a scheme.”

“Yes,” Buck fist pumps and Eddie rolls his eyes fondly.

“You’re a dork,” he informs Buck.

“I know,” Buck says happily. “So you’re gonna take the job at the 118? And not tell them we’re married?”

“Yeah, I guess so. It’s the best course of action if I want the job and I kind of like your firehouse, it feels like I know everyone a little bit already.”

Buck nods understanding, he knows Eddie doesn’t like connecting with people and can probably guess why he likes that. Luckily, he also knows that Eddie wouldn’t want him to point it out to him, so he just says: “Our firehouse now.”

It’s sweet and Eddie can’t help but smile broadly at him. Before he says: “Okay, we need to have a plan for this, so we don’t fuck this up and embarrass ourselves. Ideas?”

“I don’t think we should reconfigure everything they know about me. They’re nosy as hell. Like I love them, but they are. They’ll ask a hundred questions and poke around everywhere and you know I’m a horrible liar.”

Eddie nods thoughtfully, then he carefully suggests: “How do you feel about meeting each other for the first time?”

“Like pretend we didn’t know each other before?” Buck checks.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie nods. “I mean, they wouldn’t expect us to and if we know each other they’ll ask why you didn’t mention your friend was doing the academy and it’ll fall apart. Besides, I’m not a sharing guy, I don’t know if I want to mention Chris right out of the gate and be the guy that knocked up his summer fling as a teen.”

“That makes sense,” Buck nods. “But they’ll totally be cool about Chris, I promise. Only Hen has a kid and it’s the kid of her ex that she’s raising with her current wife. They’re not going to be weird about it. But still, your choice.”

“I’ll see. Probably won’t be able to keep it to myself forever, but I want to establish myself a little bit first,” Eddie shrugs and Buck nods. “So, what do you think? About the not knowing each other thing.”

“Sounds like a plan, I’m in,” Buck says, cementing the idea permanently.

It might blow up in their faces one day, but Eddie likes the plan they have. He wants to work with Buck and wants to work at the 118. He already knows the vibes there, he doesn’t want to get stuck with some judgmental asshole or a bigot. Bobby sounds like the best option. Besides, he secretly loved theater when he was in high school. Never auditioned, because that was weird, but delighted in the few detentions he had to serve helping them set up.

So with their minds made up, he calls Bobby to accept his offer for the 118 as he works towards certification and Buck towards the end of his probie year.

With their plan, Chris and Eddie can’t come to his shield ceremony, which Eddie is upset about. He is maybe more upset than Buck, who never counts on anyone being anywhere for him, which only pisses Eddie off more.

They don’t tell Chris about it, not wanting to upset him, but behind Buck’s back, Eddie arranges for Abuela and Pepa to be there. He can miss them at his own graduation to keep up the ruse, he’ll get to have Chris there. And Buck.

Then, before he knows it, his first day is there.

He’s nervous as fuck and a little jittery. He has no clue how this will go and not only is he nervous about fitting in and finding a place with the others, he is also worried about the two of them technically lying to all their coworkers. Not a great start. Maybe they’ll get discovered the first day and that will be super humiliating.

Buck is also anxious, but he hides it better, getting up early to make a big breakfast for all of them to work out the nerves. Then he covers it with jokes. “Come on, Eddie, you have to get going, you don’t want to be late for your first day.”

“You’re not leaving yet and you’re dropping Chris off first, I’m gonna be fine,” Eddie complains. Then he has to make sure: “Right?”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re gonna be fine, but first day early can’t hurt. Now come on, probie, get your ass in gear.”

“We are so not calling me probie,” Eddie threatens. “I’ll make you sleep on the couch.”

“Ha, jokes on you, I have my own bedroom.”

“Yeah, daddy, papi has his own bedroom, why would he sleep on the couch? Are we going to have a sleep over in the living room?” Chris asks innocently.

Buck looks at Eddie, the look on his face asking, ‘yeah, what are you going to say to that?’

“We’re not having a living room sleep over, bud. Not during the school week. Maybe this weekend if you’re good in school,” Eddie says.

“I’m always good in school,” Chris pouts.

“I know, mijo,” Eddie smiles softly.

“Then it’s a guarantee, huh, Superman,” Buck says, ruffling his hair as Chris beams up at him.

Eddie takes the two of them in, before the stress gets to him and he gets up, clearing away their plates, before kissing Chris on the forehead. “You have a good day today, alright? Tía Pepa is picking you up, but we’ll come get you from Abuela’s house, yeah?”

“Okay, daddy. Have a good day.”

“Thank you,” Eddie says, unable to help himself as he plants another kiss on his forehead.

“Now get going,” Buck ushers him away from Chris, otherwise he’ll never leave. “You’re blocking the driveway with your truck and I need to get this monster to pick up on time.”

“I’m not a monster,” Chris protests.

“Oh really, not even a cookie eating monster, huh? Or a tickle monster?” Buck grins, playfully descending onto the giggling seven year old with tickles as he shrieks.

It doesn’t make it any easier to leave and Eddie pauses in the doorway for a bit. When Buck spots him he sighs, grin still in place. “Go, Eddie. Go. And don’t use the q-word.”

Eddie starts moving again, saying: “That’s so stupid, I’m going to say it on purpose now.”

“Don’t you dare, probie.”

“Still not calling me probie.”

“You don’t say the q-word, I don’t call you probie.”

“Okay, okay, deal, I will keep to your silly superstition,” Eddie rolls his eyes, finally managing to get out the house with another goodbye thrown over his shoulder. It’s been a while since he’s been so excited yet terrified of a first day at work, it’s strangely fun to speculate how today will go as he gets into his car and drives off.

~~

A/N:

One of my favorite things about Buck and Eddie is that they are both idiots and encourage each other’s idiot when possible so they can be in cahoots together. I love how fucking stupid they can be lmao, because there is absolutely no reason to do all this

[ollieofthebeholder]

to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

<< Beginning < Prev. || AO3 || My Website

Chapter 41: October 1998

“You can’t stay in the closet forever.”

“Says you.”

“Are we talking literally or in metaphor?” Gerard asks.

Melanie glares at him. At least he thinks she’s glaring at him. It’s hard to tell under the fake fur glued all over her face. Gerard understands, kind of, why she doesn’t want to wear a mask, but he still thinks she maybe went overboard just a tad.

Not that he’s going to say that. Melanie may be small, but she is vicious, and even if her claws are made of rubber she’s more than capable of tearing him to shreds.

Turning back to the firmly closed door in front of her, Melanie presses against it and says coaxingly, “C’mon, Martin, we’re waiting on you. Your mum even says it’s okay if Gerry takes us alone this year. It won’t be any fun without you. Please?”

There’s a long, long silence. Finally, Martin’s muffled voice comes from the other side. “Okay, but you have to promise not to laugh.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye,” Melanie promises.

“We’d never laugh at you,” Gerard assures him. “You can laugh at me instead.”

Melanie shoves him as she steps back from the closet door. “You don’t look that bad.”

It’s Halloween, not one of Gerard’s favorite holidays—the idea of a whole festival surrounding the things his mother studies and borderline worships is not his idea of a good time, and he’s a bit keener on the inherent mischief of Bonfire Night anyway—but Melanie loves it. Actually, what Melanie loves is dressing up in costumes and having fun, and Halloween is one of the few excuses she gets to do so, especially since they’re all beginning to get leery of the theater and its implications. This will be the third year running that one of the mothers in the support group for single parents holds a party all the children are invited to, and since Gerard strongly suspects this will be the last year Roger and Aunt Lily are members of that group, he’s agreed to go with Melanie and Martin. He’ll do just about anything for them.

Including wearing fancy dress.

The closet door opens slowly, and Martin steps out, very hesitantly. Gerard is shocked—not because it looks bad; on the contrary, the outfit thoroughly suits Martin—but because he knows Martin pulled this together himself.

“Oh, Martin,” Melanie says, sounding delighted. She claps her hands—paws, whatever. “You should’ve told me you were going as Dmitri, I’d’ve gone as Anya and we could’ve matched.”

Martin’s cheeks turn pink. “I wasn’t sure I could pull it off.”

“You did.” Gerard adjusts Martin’s cap—he thinks it’s called a flat cap—so that it sits at a slightly more rakish angle, then nods approvingly. “You look great. Ready to go?”

“Yeah.” Martin tugs at the front of his vest a bit self-consciously. “You both look great, too.”

Gerard thinks he’s being generous, at least on his behalf, but doesn’t say so. Martin will just insist that no, really, he means it. And it has to be admitted that Melanie’s Beast costume is very convincing.

“C’mon,” he says instead. “Let’s go before we miss the train.”

It’s not that easy. Of course it’s not that easy. Roger insists on taking pictures of the three of them, both as a group and individually, and then Gerard has to fetch the encyclopedia—fortunately the Blackwoods have the same one he pulled from the library—to show him the entry on Veles he used as inspiration for his costume. They don’t get all the way out the door before Roger realizes Melanie’s tusks are still in the car, they only get as far as the stoop before Aunt Lily presses an umbrella on them, and they’re halfway down the block before Gerard’s mum calls after them that they’ve forgotten their train fare. By the time they finally get away, they have to run to catch the bus that will get them to Paddington in time to not have to wait a whole hour for their train.

For some reason, Gerard can’t figure out why, the party is in Oxford. He isn’t sure if the woman who’s part of the support group just comes all the way to London because there isn’t anything closer or if her family lives out there, and he’s not sure if Martin or Melanie know the answer either. This is the first year he’s gone, since he and his mum pop in and out of town so much and she left the group, and he’s not quite sure what to expect.

“It’s fun,” Melanie says when he asks. She’s popped the tusks out of her mouth again, as they make it difficult for her to talk effectively, and Martin has them folded into his satchel along with the bauble he found somewhere that somehow looks exactly like the music box from the film. “There’s treats and games and dancing, and there’s always a costume contest. I bet Martin’s going to win this year.”

“Yours is better,” Martin says. “Judith said they were going to maybe do one of those murder mystery games this year, too.”

“That’ll be…interesting,” Gerard says. He’s not sure if fun is the right word, and he doesn’t think he’ll be very good at it either. Martin will, though. Melanie, jury’s still out.

Fortunately, they’re not the only ones going to the party on the train, so not only does Gerard not feel particularly self-conscious about his costume (or about Melanie’s, for that matter), they can tag along with a parent who knows the bus routes well enough to get them to the house, which is on practically the other side of the town. Good thing the buses are running, too; the rain seems to have followed them up from London and all the way to the street, which is aptly named Hill Top Road. The site of the party is an enormous house, bigger than the others on the street, bedecked in crepe paper and cobwebs, and while Gerard looks slightly suspiciously at the cobwebs, Martin quietly assures him they’re fake. Since Martin has a way better sense of the Fourteen than even Gerard does, he trusts him.

Mrs. Bradford is plump and jolly and welcomes all the children with open arms and doesn’t even mention the absolute gouts of water pouring from the fake fur of Melanie’s costume because she wouldn’t stay under the umbrella, only showing her to the bathroom and offering her a towel to dry off. There are a couple girls dressed as Anastasia, eyeballing each other from across the room above identical store-bought costumes, and one or two dressed as what Gerard assumes are other popular characters, but most of the kids are dressed as witches, goblins, skeletons, or vampires. Food is laid out in the living room—popcorn balls, caramel apples, bowls of candy, cookies shaped like bats and pumpkins, and a gigantic crystal punch bowl—while the study has a metal tub in the center filled with water and apples to bob for. Another room has had all the furniture pushed against the walls, with music playing for kids who want to dance; still another is set up for games. A room filled with pillows and beanbag chairs seems ready-made for storytelling. All the rooms have the lights turned off, lit only by flickering, guttering candles, the perfect counterpoint to the rain still lashing at the windows.

Gerard has to admit, as far as spooky kids’ parties go, this one’s not bad.

He circles the rooms once or twice, just to see what’s going on. He declines to participate in the apple bobbing because of his false beard, but he joins a game of Cluedo and another of Beggar-My-Neighbor, tries to learn a party dance (made a bit awkward by the fact that his teacher is Melanie, who is somewhat hampered by her still-damp fur), then drifts into the storytelling room. Mrs. Bradford’s father, who was probably a schoolyard chum of Robert Smirke’s he’s so old, does an admittedly good job of telling a proper spooky story and making it sound real, about something that supposedly happened in one of the houses on this very street. It’s so convincing that Gerard might be tempted to go and investigate himself if it wasn’t still raining.

Choosing not to offer up a story himself—he knows plenty, but he lacks Martin’s way with words to tell them properly—he wanders through the kitchen. Mrs. Bradford is preparing something she calls a “snap-dragon”—Gerard isn’t sure what that is—and assures him she doesn’t need assistance, then kindly directs him to the washroom when he asks. He’s had more than a few cups of punch and he really needs to pee.

He manages to maneuver his costume such that he can relieve himself, then carefully washes his hands. After taking a moment to study himself in the mirror to make sure he still looks presentable, he reaches for the doorknob and starts to exit, then freezes when he hears a conversation in progress just down the hall. “—why you would even want to invite that one, honestly.”

“I didn’t.” The disgusted voice belongs to a girl he’s pretty sure is Judith, who’s Mrs. Bradford’s daughter. “Mummy insisted we couldn’t leave anybody in the group out, and certainly not just one person. Besides, they’re a matched set these days. Melanie comes with Martin and that’s all there is to it.”

Gerard bristles. Who do these brats think they are? Martin’s worth ten times any other person in this building, Gerard included, and they have no right to act like he’s a, a burden or an inconvenience or worse. He also knows that Martin would be perfectly happy to stay home and let Melanie go to things without him if he’s not wanted, because he feels like he’s making things less enjoyable for her. And really, considering there are more girls than boys among the children of single parents, it probably wouldn’t take much convincing to get him to stay home.

He’s about to step out and say something to that effect when the other girl, the one who’s not Judith, sighs heavily. “I don’t know what he sees in her, honestly. She’s so annoying. Always stepping in where she’s not wanted, and she never shuts up. And those clothes she wears.”

“Yeah,” Judith says with a nasty laugh. “Even a clown would be embarrassed to dress like that. And, ugh, her hair.”

“Good thing she’s covered in fur tonight. It’s less ugly than her face.” The other girl laughs, too, in a very mean way. “She definitely picked the right costume. Who could ever learn to love something like that? Martin’s just too nice to tell her the truth, that’s all.”

They’re talking about Melanie. Gerard feels suddenly lightheaded. Melanie, outgoing, vivacious Melanie—Melanie who’s the first to chat up the new kid on the playground or volunteer to sit with the person on their own at lunch, Melanie who tends to do the talking whenever they’re in shops, Melanie who actually likes people instead of just wanting them to either like her or not notice her like Martin and Gerard do—they don’t want Melanie here? Not that it was okay when he thought it was Martin, just that it was…typical. It shouldn’t be like that, but it is. But Melanie?

“It’s always good when the costumes fit the people,” Judith is saying, and then she jumps as Gerard flings the bathroom door open hard enough that it clatters against something and steps out into the hallway. “Who—oh, Gerard, is that you?”

“What did you say about Melanie?” Gerard demands, drawing himself up to his full height—which isn’t much, but is at least over Judith and the other girl—he recognizes her now as someone called Helen, who’s always very cagey about where she and her mother live but spends most of her time with the better-off kids in the group. Judith is dressed, aptly enough, as a witch, whereas Helen is one of the Anastasias, the one who didn’t bother with a wig. Something about that seems vaguely important, but not enough to bother about. They’re both, he remembers now, closer to his age than Martin and Melanie’s, evidently old enough to be in the catty stage.

Judith looks a bit flustered, but Helen wrinkles her nose. “You got stuck coming in with her, didn’t you? I’m so sorry. Maybe we can shove her outside, what do you think, Judith? If we convince her to reenact that scene from the movie, she might even go up on the roof and we can lock her out there.”

For a second, Judith actually looks like she’s considering that. Fury grips Gerard like a vice. “Don’t worry. We’re leaving.”

“You don’t have to go,” Judith protests, blinking very rapidly and clasping her hands in front of her chest.

“If my sister isn’t welcome,” Gerard snaps, “neither am I.”

“She’s your sister?” Judith blurts.

Helen frowns. “I thought her mother was dead. Or are your parents…divorced?” She says that like it’s the most horrid thing she can think of.

Gerard doesn’t bother explaining. He shoves past the girls and stomps down the hall in a blind fury. The rest of the kids are rushing towards the kitchen, giggling and chattering excitedly; Gerard snags the Beast and Dmitri as soon as they get close. “Martin, Melanie, come on, we’ve got to go.”

“Already?” Melanie sounds disappointed, even through the fangs. “They were just about to do a snap-dragon.”

Martin tugs Melanie’s sleeve. She doesn’t seem to notice. “That’s not safe with your costume. Come on, let’s say goodnight and go. I didn’t realize it was so late.”

It’s not, or at least it’s not so late that they have to leave, but Gerard doesn’t tell them that.

Mrs. Bradford tries to dissuade them from leaving when they (well, Martin and Melanie at any rate—Gerard can’t bring himself to be nice to someone whose daughter is so poisonous and nasty, and he finds himself bouncing on the balls of his feet and mentally urging them to hurry up already) thank her for the lovely evening; she brings up everything from the lateness of the hour to the rain and says that if their mothers can’t pick them up they’re welcome to spend the night, but Gerard simply says no and hustles Martin and Melanie out the door before anyone can say another word.

It really is a nasty night; the rain is pouring even harder than before, obscuring what little moon there ordinarily would have been, and it’s the kind of rain that chills to the bone, but Gerard is so hot he can barely feel it. He also doesn’t care that he doesn’t know Oxford well—or really at all—and only has a vague sense of which direction to head in to get to the train station. They’re also almost certainly going to have to wait for the next train, but it’s better, he tells himself, than dealing with…that. Melanie doesn’t need to be around people that hate her. She deserves so much better than that.

At the intersection at the end of the road, he starts to turn left, but Martin catches his sleeve. “Cross here and cut through the park, it’ll save us time.”

“We don’t—fine.” Gerard takes Martin’s hand on one side and Melanie’s on the other and practically drags them across the street, despite their protests. In a tiny part of his mind, he realizes he just put their lives in danger and what if a car had come along, but they make it to the other side in one piece, so who really cares.

The park is almost certainly closed by now, but nobody really stops them as they cross through a small copse of trees that offers a little shelter but is definitely not an official entrance by any means. There’s a rustle and a pop, and then Gerard is vaguely aware that he’s not really getting wet anymore. Melanie says, a bit anxiously, “Slow down, Gerry, we’ve got to bunch up together or we won’t all fit.”

“I’m fine. You two be under the umbrella,” Martin says. “This old thing’s keeping me plenty dry and warm. You guys are the ones that are never going to dry out.”

Gerard automatically takes the umbrella’s handle when Melanie presses it into his hand, then takes off again, as fast as he can. He’s only vaguely aware that Melanie is stumbling to keep up with him. Now he’s even angrier, and not just with Judith and Helen—are they the only ones that feel like that? Does every kid in the group think Melanie isn’t worth being friends with? He’s angry with himself, for not thinking this through, for not telling Mrs. Bradford why they’re leaving, for not telling Melanie and Martin why they’re leaving, for dragging them out into the rain, for not bringing a second umbrella, for making his costume out of velor instead of something that won’t hold onto the moisture like the robes are currently doing.

One thing’s for sure, he’s never growing real facial hair if it feels anything like this fake beard feels soaking wet.

Christ, it’s hard to see out here. Gerard sincerely hopes they’re still heading in the right direction, because visibility has dropped to just about nothing and there’s nobody out here. He imagines it’s probably a popular enough spot, during the day at least, maybe even usually on Halloween night, but this late and especially in this weather, they have it to themselves. It’s easy to believe it’s just them in the whole wide world, really, and it would be easy to lose track of Melanie if the sodden fur of her costume wasn’t tickling his hand.

“Martin? Martin! Gerry, stop, we lost Martin!” Melanie practically screams in his ear.

Every thought and cell in Gerard’s body comes to a sudden, screeching halt.

They’re in, so far as he can tell, a completely open field. There are no trees, no statues, no fences. Hell, it suddenly hits him that they’ve been climbing a hill, and that they’re probably standing at the highest point in the park, which would be dangerous if there was a thunderstorm going on but isn’t so dangerous when it’s just rain. The point, though, is that there’s nowhere for Martin to hide, no way they could possibly have lost him.

And yet, when he spins around, nearly losing his balance in the wet grass, he can’t see Martin. He can’t see anything.

“Martin!” he bellows. He’s afraid, suddenly, to let go of Melanie’s hand and cup his own around his mouth, afraid that if he does so she’ll get lost too even if she’s standing right next to him, but he tries to make an effective megaphone with his single free hand. “Martin! Where are you?”

Gerard feels the sudden shift of weight on the umbrella as Melanie lets go. Suddenly panicked, he drops it and reaches out with both hands to where she was a second ago—oh, Christ, please let her still be standing there—and gasps in relief as his hands make contact with sodden fur.

“Martin!” she yells, and then screams in what sounds like genuine fear as Gerard grabs her and pulls her close.

“Christ, Neenie, don’t let go of me!” he bawls back at her. “I’m not losing you too!”

Gerard can just make out the shape of Melanie’s face in the dark, but her eyes are so huge they’re practically luminescent. “He’s here, he has to be here!”

“We’ll find him,” Gerard promises fiercely, and he doesn’t know if he can really promise that, but he’s going to anyway. God, this is all his fault, if he had only thought a little harder about this…

Melanie grips his hand so tightly it hurts, and they start back down the hill, both of them yelling Martin’s name. There’s no answer but the rain, and the further down the hill they go, the harder it gets to be able to see. Everything feels…far away, somehow, and Gerard can’t even see the faintest hint of the city on the horizon.

Fuck, no, no, no…

“Neenie,” he says suddenly, coming to a stop. “This isn’t natural.”

“It’s rain,” Melanie says, but he can hear the hysterical edge in her voice. “It’s just rain, and—and it’s after sundown, and there’s no moon, and—”

Gerard pulls her closer and tries to quell the fear in his own voice. If it knows he’s scared, it’ll come for them too, and they’ll have no hope of getting Martin out. “Melanie, I know you can feel that too. How could we have lost Martin so easy if—if he didn’t have help getting lost?”

“No,” Melanie says, her voice cracking. “No, we can’t, it can’t—Martin!”

Gerard echoes her cry, but it feels…hopeless, somehow. Like he’s not going to be heard. It occurs to him then that their voices should be echoing, at least a little bit, but there’s nothing. The sound’s being swallowed up…or maybe it’s like it’s coming from all around them. There’s no way to tell, no way to be sure…Gerard isn’t even sure anymore that they’re going back the way they came, or that he’ll be able to find which way they’re supposed to be going if he does manage it.

Panic takes hold, and this time it’s not letting go. He cannot have been so feeble as to lose Martin to something like this…

He’s aware, suddenly, of music. Someone is singing, loudly and a bit off-key, but with a sincere feeling, like whoever is singing really means the words. It takes him a second to catch on to the fact that it’s Melanie singing, and he tightens his grip on her hand, letting the words filter into his brain. It sounds familiar, but he can’t place it.

And then he hears another voice, a bit faint but steady and clear, singing the next part of the song—at least he assumes it’s the next part, it’s the same tune anyway—from somewhere just ahead of them, and he gasps, because it’s Martin singing. He runs forward, Melanie dragging along with him, as she jumps back in with another line, and then she and Martin are singing together.

And then there he is, directly in front of them, what of his hair isn’t tucked under his cap plastered flat against his head and his hands tightly clenched, but it’s Martin and Gerard can see him. He gives a little cry and reaches out for him, just as Melanie does the same, and they grab his hands and pull him close and hug him tightly, and he hugs them back just as hard. For a moment, probably a too-long moment, they cling to one another in sheer relief.

Finally, Martin pulls back, just a little, and blinks up at them. “Can we go now?”

“Yeah. Don’t let go,” Gerard says. He’s still hopped up on adrenaline, and he tells himself that’s why he’s shaking.

It’s awkward to walk with his arms around Melanie and Martin’s shoulders, and their arms around his waist, but he doesn’t care, because it’s better than not knowing where they are.

They somehow make it to the train station, and Gerard manages to get their return tickets just in time for them to make the train—it probably isn’t the last one to London, given the hour, but he finds he doesn’t want to hang about in Oxford any longer than he has to. Unsurprisingly, the train is largely empty this time of night, so it’s not hard to find somewhere isolated they can sit huddled close to one another.

For the first several minutes, none of them speak. Then, after a bit, Martin eases back, fishes a handkerchief that’s somehow managed to remain dry out of his coat, and begins wiping his glasses, shoulders hunched and head bowed as he concentrates very hard on them.

Melanie bursts into tears.

Martin’s head jerks up, and he only just has time to shove his glasses back onto his face before Melanie crawls into Gerard’s lap and throws her arms around Martin’s neck. She’s not just crying, she’s full-on sobbing, and Gerard, who’s never even heard her sniffle before, admittedly panics a little again. He wraps one arm around her and another around Martin and pulls them both close, and it’s a bit like hugging a sponge in the middle of doing the dishes, but he does it anyway, because now his mind is running all the possible scenarios of what could have happened if he hadn’t been able to find Martin, if Melanie had got a little further away from him, if he hadn’t held either of their hands and hadn’t noticed them falling behind. Surprisingly, very few of them are concerned with what Aunt Lily would say.

“I’m sorry!” Melanie wails. “I’m sorry, I th-thought you were holding my hand, I d-didn’t realize you’d l-let go until we were so far away and then we couldn’t find you and it almost got you and it’s all my fault…”

“Melanie. Melanie. It’s okay. It’s okay.” Martin squeezes Melanie tighter, and Gerard too. “It’s not your fault. I should’ve said something before I let go, I just—I couldn’t see anything, my glasses were too wet, I was just trying to clean them off and—” He breaks off with a gulp, and it’s a second or two before he’s able to continue. “I-it was just—everything seemed so faraway. Like I couldn’t find my way out. I, I didn’t know It was there or I would’ve…”

“Not your fault, either,” Gerard says, and he’s a little surprised to hear the hitch in his own voice, but he doesn’t care. “I’m the one that made us leave early. I’m the one that dragged you two through that park instead of waiting until everybody else left so we could go in a group and be safe. I’m the one who didn’t hold your hands, and I’m the one who was too angry to sense the—”

He doesn’t say its name. He can’t. He doesn’t want to invite it onto the train, doesn’t want to risk it trying to take Martin away from him again, even with both him and Melanie clinging to him as tight as they can. What if it’s stronger than he is?

“It almost got you,” he chokes out. “And now it’s going to be looking for you again.”

Martin sighs. It’s too weary a sound to be coming from a ten-year-old. “I’m pretty sure it was already after me, Ger. I—I think I ran into it when I was little. I dunno. Maybe I’m wrong, but…I think that one tried to get me a long time ago.”

“We won’t leave you alone ever again,” Melanie says fiercely. Her voice is still as waterlogged as her costume.

It does make Martin chuckle, at least a little. Gerard rubs his cheek against his hair, dislodging the hat slightly, then looks down at Melanie. “Well, the other kids already think you’re a matched set, so that shouldn’t be too much of a problem, yeah?”

“We’re not getting married or anything.” Martin sounds slightly appalled, and Gerard can’t help but laugh. “And I don’t—Neenie deserves to get to have fun with people.”

Melanie finally gets her knees off Gerard’s lap and wedges herself in between them. She’s shorter than they are, so they can see each other over her head. “You’re people. And you’re fun. Why wouldn’t you get to come and have fun with me?”

“I don’t think many people want to invite us both.”

Gerard winces. “Um. That’s—that’s kind of why I made us leave.”

Melanie’s eyes darken, and her chest puffs up under the sodden costume. “Did someone say something mean? Who said it?”

“Probably a lot of people,” Martin mumbles.

“I—I only heard two,” Gerard says carefully. “Judith and, um, Helen, I think her name is? The Anastasia without the wig.”

“Yeah, that’s Helen.” Martin makes a face. “I knew she was just trying to play a joke on me.”

For a second, just a second, Gerard is tempted…but no. After the night they’ve just had, he needs to be honest. “It’s not you they didn’t want around, Martin. It’s Melanie.”

“Melanie?” Martin repeats, dumbfounded. “But everybody likes Melanie.”

“No, they don’t,” Melanie mutters. “They think I’m annoying. Like everybody at school. I—I thought maybe they were different, since they were inviting me to the party, but…I guess Mrs. Bradford made Judith invite me, huh?”

Martin holds onto her tighter. Gerard’s heart lurches. “Yeah,” he admits. “That’s what she said. That’s why I made us leave, that’s why I got so angry. You deserve better. You both deserve better.”

Melanie looks up at Martin. “I don’t want to leave you alone, but—what if I just walk you to hang out with people and then come back and get you? That way the people who like you can spend time with you, and—”

“They don’t like me either,” Martin says matter-of-factly. “They like the person I pretend to be so they won’t be mean to me. That’s all. I didn’t set out to be liked. I just wanted to be…”

Safe.

The word lingers in the air unspoken and stabs Gerard deeply. Martin certainly deserves to be liked, he deserves people who enjoy his company and want him around, just like Melanie does. He deserves friends. But Aunt Lily’s made him believe he doesn’t, and she’s made him believe nobody likes him if he’s who he really is, and so he tries to put himself into a tiny, tiny box and tick off all the right things on the list and be what people want, or at least what they expect, and he thinks if he does that he won’t get hurt.

But if Martin is right and the thing that just tried to hurt him—they’re not saying it, but they all know it’s the Lonely—has tried to hurt him before, the worst thing he can be is alone. And if he doesn’t have friends, real friends, he will be, even in a crowd. Sometimes the loneliest place in the world is in the middle of thousands of people and knowing that not a single one of them cares whether you live or die.

Gerard should know.

“We like you,” he says, yanking Martin’s cap off with one hand and ruffling his miraculously still dry hair with the other, teasing a grin out of him. “We love you. We always will. No matter what, don’t you ever forget that—you’ve always got us. Always.”

“Always and forever,” Melanie echoes.

Martin scoots a little closer, squeezing Melanie tighter between them and accidentally wringing water all over their laps, and for once he doesn’t immediately apologize. “I know. Just like you’ll both always have me.”

[paperbackpieces-makemewhole]

Enzo feels like shit.

His throat burns from the heaving, everything is fuzzy, his ears are ringing, he can hardly see, he can hardly breathe—

He hates that this is happening again, hates that he can't fix it, hates this, hates it hates it hates it–

"Oh dear, Mr Pantazis..."

Shit.

"You really can't do anything right, can you? Tsk. Poor thing... Poor, useless little thing."

It's not real, he knows it's not real. He just has to wait for it to stop. Just don't acknowledge it.

"Maybe he should've killed you, hm? You wouldn't be such a burden then."

Each word cuts and burns like a hot sword through his chest. He almost feels a hand resting on his shoulder, but he knows that nothing, that no one is there.

"Think of how upset your mother would be if she saw you like this. Why, I'm sure she'd cry almost as much as you are right now."

He wants it to stop, wants all of it to be over, wants to be better, wants–

"You want to be loved, don't you? Then learn to do better. It's really quite easy, even for someone like you."

The voice is starting to sound like his mother. It hurts, tears a sob from his throat that stings and tastes of vomit and blood and the pills he'd really been trying to take, he promises he was trying to.

"Oh... Oh, that hurt, didn't it? Oh, I'm sorry... I'm only telling the truth: you have to earn love, because it's so hard to love you. But you knew that already, didn't you?"

He nods, slowly, meekly, as if there was an axe over his neck.

"See? I'm only here to help you. Who would you be without me?"

And the fact of the matter is: he doesn't know.

He hardly knows who he is now.

[miles-prentiss]

Where is my mind

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Additional Tags: Mental Health Issues, Childhood Trauma, Psychological Trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Child Abuse, Past Abuse, Abuse, Physical Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Drug Abuse, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Substance Abuse, Schizophrenia, Hallucinations, Nightmares, Dreams, Panic Attacks, Short One Shot, One Shot, Angst, Heavy Angst, Angst and Tragedy

Words: 414

I walk down the long hallway the walls a saturated marron colour

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

"Hello!" I call out unaware of my surroundings.

I reach the end of the hall, I am met with a off white door, I open the door with hesitation not knowing what is awaiting my arrival.

The door open revealing a living room which seem familiar .

"Hello?" I call out once more.

... no reply .

I begin the gather what Is surrounding me, soft yellow wall, a dark green couch, a muted red carpet, off white lace curtains.

I turn around to see a man who was once standing behind me.

I stand in confusion not knowing who the man infront of me.

"What do you not know your own father?" He asked as if he was informing me on who exactly he was.

I couldn't believe it.

"I thought- you're in prison!?" I enquired.

"What do you not miss your pa?" I ignored his statement and walked away.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" He demanded grabing my shoulder and spinning me around to face him.

I flinched and his grip on my shoulder is getting tighter. He takes his free hand and wraps it tightly around my neck ,blocking my oxygen supply.

"Pleaae..." I let out a pathetic whimper.

"Ahhh!" I sit up walking myself up from my slumber in a cold sweat.

"Why?...why now?"

The past is catching up with me fast than I thought, I hang my head in defeat not wanting to deal with this at the moment.

I turn to my alarm clock which reads '3:12AM' 'the devils hour'.

I get out of bed and walk over to my bathroom. I flick on the light, illuminating the bathroom.

I stare at myself in the mirror, my dark curls framing my face, dark circles for eyes, the pale yellow-ish tone on my skin.

I turn to look at the shelf bellow the mirror which is filled with numerous boxes of pills

I look back up to the mirror to see Him behind me, his hand wrapped firmly around my neck, I turn around only for him not to be there.

I Fall back against the sink, knees coming up to my chest, hand falling into my arms, tears rolling down my face, slight ringing in my ear

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...." I repeat over and over knowing how I failed being my mother's perfect little girl

"Where is my mind?"

[hectorthedoggo]

teehee!! new chapter!!

tws under cut (but, they have slight spoilers, so steer clear :D)

Tws: referenced underage drinking (/j), suicidal ideations, implied past es not living la vida loca (slight physical, emotional child abuse), also, there is no csa/sa at all in this fic for es, btw :)

(@kani-miso good morning)

[delenygma]

FANFICTION | Eleutheromania (Part 3/3) | Edward Nashton/The Riddler x Reader (AO3)

Gotham is not the only thing in ruins.  Post-The Batman Edward Nashton x Reader.

Part 3/3.

• 

TW: implied/referenced sh, implied/referenced abuse (past), mention of bruising, smoking.

Originally published on AO3 in April 2022.

•

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

PART 3/3

Time appears to slow down as you turn back to the laptop. Seeing that Red is now offline, you frantically search for the main IRC channel. 

IRC//aolypkksly 

CHANNEL//#thpu 

<ME:> Someone… Explain? 

<SILVER:> WHAT THE FUCK??!! 

<BIT:> guys 

<JAKE:> yooooooo!!! 

<SILVER:> WE DID IT??!! 

The chat explodes, becoming a blurry wall of text in front of your eyes. You slam down the laptop lid and bury your face in your hands as everything you have just witnessed begins to form a cohesive narrative in your head. There is a whirlwind of emotions in your chest, making you grip the edge of the desk in an attempt to ground yourself.  

The room is quiet, the only sounds breaking the daunting silence being the rain and chatter of rats. The nauseating combination of euphoria and anxiety and guilt rushing through your veins is the last thing you need right now, and you try to swallow it down with the dregs of cold coffee left over in one of the coffee cups. 

You almost choke as you hear the doorbell ring, making your stomach flip. Slowly, you make your way towards the door, your legs quivering as you cross the apartment. You find your fingers wavering over the post-it note obscuring the visor before you rip it off and look through. 

It’s the security guard. 

You notice that her hair is plastered to her face, rain streaming down her cheeks, as she grins at you and waves. Despite the risk, you find yourself unlocking the door. 

“Hello, stranger.” She sounds excited, but keeps her voice down. She shakes her head as you take a tentative step back. “Come on, don't be scared. You’re the Riddler’s… Acquaintance. I can’t imagine it takes you long to figure things out.” 

“Red?” You croak, realising how long it has been since you last had a face to-face conversation. The security guard nods. “How did you know-” 

“Pass me your mobile phone.” She says, and you raise your eyebrows. “This needs to go. For… Your safety. And his.” 

You reach into your pocket and fish out your phone, wordlessly passing it over to her. She unhurriedly puts the sleek device on the floor, before swiftly stamping onto it, glass cracking under her boot. She then kicks it into the depths of your apartment. 

“I’m sorry if this was a little… Overdramatic.” She looks at you, her expression unexpectedly serious. “But your… Old life is over now. Really, truly over.” 

You nod, slowly, the weight of her words sinking on your shoulders. Somewhat comfortably. You won’t be missing your old life at all.  

“Look, I need to dash.” Red says. “I just wanted to check… If I gave him the right address. I haven’t been entangled in anything like this before and was shitting bricks, really.” 

“Are you, like…” You make a non-descript gesture with your hands.

“Huh…” The biggest grin cracks her face. “Well, those inside Arkham often have… Other pursuits, you know. And I don’t only mean the inmates.” 

“Why are you doing this?” 

“You know why.” She winks at you again, and adds, “He’ll be back soon.” 

Red turns around and saunters down the hallway, her footsteps surprisingly light despite the weighty boots. You lock the door behind you, turn around, and take a few deep breaths. 

Soon. 

***

Blood, sweat, dirt. 

The smell – no, the taste – is what wakes you up. You must have fallen asleep, somehow, although you promised yourself to stay awake. Opening your eyes, mind still addled with uneasy sleep, you realise that someone has their hand clasped over your mouth. 

Your body stiffens as you take a breath, readying yourself to scream, or at least attempt to. However, you stop yourself when you notice the lights from outside reflecting against glasses. The tormented eyes behind them are nearly unrecognisable, but you know it’s him. 

“Shh… It’s just… It’s me.” Edward’s voice is raspy and trembling. He sounds like he has not slept in days. Somewhat frantically, he mumbles, “I don’t know how safe… We need to be quiet.” 

You reach up and gently brush his cheek with the back of your hand, blinking to adjust your eyes to the near-complete darkness. He gradually removes his hand from your mouth, and you scramble on the bed to make space for him to sit down. As you attempt to move your hand away from his face, he grabs hold of your wrist, tight. 

“I… E-Eddie…” At loss for words, your voice is scarcely more audible than a whisper. “You… It’s okay. Sit down.” 

Edward lets you move your hand away from his face as he sits cautiously on the bed, but continues to hold your wrist in a vice-like grip, clutching his mask in his other hand. With one hand, you throw off the blanket onto the floor and sit upright. Facing him, with your eyes now adjusted to the only source of light being the streetlamp outside your apartment window, you are suddenly overcome with guilt. 

“I’m… I’m sorry to have let you down. I’m so fucking sorry.” 

He slowly shakes his head, and you notice how his glasses are cracked, as well as the trail of bruises leading down his cheek. Your stomach churns as you notice the striped jumpsuit is splattered with crimson stains, some fresher than others. You open your mouth to let apologies keep spilling from your lips, but he stops you. 

“You’re here… Now.” 

“I broke a promise, Eddie. All these promises I made you…” You bite your lip, enraged at yourself. “I don’t think I can ever fucking forgive myself-” 

“P-please stop talking like this.” He whispers. “The riot and the escape were not… Planned.” 

“But I-” 

“Arkham is a hell on Earth. I told you, it was like the… No… It was worse.” Edward’s voice is still soft, but more assertive. “The last thing I would want is you…” 

“But-”

“You would have… It made me… Want to…” His lips quiver. Edward lets go of your wrist and buries his face in his hands. 

“I need to carry on… I am still needed.” He murmurs. “But I can’t do it alone. I need...” 

You move off the bed and notice him whimpering. Hearing you move, Edward thinks you are about to leave. Instead, you kneel in front of him, gently unwrapping his fingers from his face. He lowers his hands onto the mask in his lap, and you proceed to take off his glasses, placing them on the bedside table. Then, you reach for the mask. Edward’s hand instinctively twitches, as if about to stop you, but he lets you take it and place it carefully on the bed beside him. 

“You won’t ever be alone again.” You say as you cup his face in your hands gently, conscious of the bruises. 

You lean forward and place a delicate kiss on his chapped lips. 

He exhales sharply. Pulling away, you see how stunned he looks. He whispers your name once, twice. Three times, almost like a prayer. 

“W-Why did you do this?” He brushes his lips with his fingertips. 

“Because…” You say, slowly, as all the pieces of the puzzle align. In your head. In your heart. You notice how he is trembling, and that your hands are shaking, too. “I love you.” 

Edward opens his mouth as if to say something, but no noise comes out except for a short exhale. He feels like a creature caught in the headlights.  

This must be a heartless joke. They said that he should not be loved, people like him don’t deserve it.After all, his existence was insignificant. Just another number, another cog in the soulless machine. To be chewed and spat out. He should have been dead by the time he reached twenty-five 

They said-

-keepyourmouthFUCKINGshut-

-takeyourGOD-DAMNpillsyoudon’twanttobeputinsidetheroomagain-

-beaGOODBOYORELSE- 

And it was the same in Arkham. History reprised itself, shouldn’t that mean something? 

-youareFUCKINGSCUM- 

-ifonlytherewerenocamerashereIWOULDFUCKYOUUP- 

-NOBODYWILLCOMEYOUDELUSIONALFUCKINGLIARYESYOUARETHE LIAR-

-NOBODYFUCKINGCARESABOUTYOUANDYOUWILLROTINHERE- 

“Hey.” You say softly, familiar with the sudden, faraway look in Edward’s eyes. For a while, the cadence of his breath fluctuates before he manages to bring himself back to the present. He is still trembling. 

“You shouldn’t love me.” 

The torment in his voice makes your heart ache. 

“But I do.” 

“W-Who do you love?” You don’t think that you have ever heard him sound this frightened. Not during his worst flashbacks, not even during your meeting at Arkham.  

Whoever did this to him will fucking pay.

“You. You as a whole.” You say, and unexpectedly something shatters inside the both of you. You suddenly find yourselves clutching onto one another, teeth knocking as you kiss sloppily.

Desperately. Pathetically to some, perhaps. 

You taste each other hungrily, breaking apart only to take irregular breaths, admitting how much you have yearned for one another’s presence, how you cannot exist without one another anymore. 

When you finally tear away, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him close and relishing feeling the softness of his body against yours. One of your hands is tangled in his hair as the other one rubs his back. Edward shakes uncontrollably as he begins to sob, feeling both sorrow and solace at the same time.  

“It’s okay, Eddie. It’s okay…” 

You whisper words of comfort entangled with love and truth. He cries until there are no more tears left. 

“Shh, now. Come to bed.” You say, your voice gentle, and feel him nod weakly against your neck. He slowly clambers into the bed and lies down, not taking his eyes off you. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Edward’s face is drenched with tears, and red patches adorn the area around his swollen eyes. He makes a faint noise as he puts his aching head against the cool pillow. You climb in after him, positioning yourself so that you can cradle him in your arms. 

“You’re safe now.” You whisper into his ear and begin to stroke his hair. He nods in his half-asleep state, taking a lengthy shuddering breath before nestling even closer to you. His body fits perfectly against yours.

Everything is a puzzle. 

The lamppost outside flickers against the pouring rain which drums a hymn of triumph and melancholy onto your windowpane.

***

When you wake up in the morning, the first thing you hear is shuffling noises from the other room. 

And Edward's voice, muffled by the mask. 

“Why, hello there, Gotham City…” 

On the bedside table lies a simple black balaclava. Next to it is a post-it note. 

Join me?

You smile.

[double--hh]

I Think it's Gonna Rain When I Die

An unofficial addition to the Serial Killer! Francis AU!!

AU belongs to our beloved SK Francis Anon 🔪

TW: Referenced/Implied PTSD attacks, implied/referenced abuse, SK! Francis is an entire tw on his own, possessive behavior, execution via electrocution, Francis loves Nacha and tolerates Ana 👍

The police officer escorted her to the stand alone table, there sat her father… no, he lost the right to that title.

There sat Francis.

Clean shaven, sullen eyes, and ruffled and slightly matted hair. There were two guards against the back wall waiting for anything to happen. Anastacha bit the sides of her tongue as she made eye-contact with him, her expression unchanging as Francis recognized her.

He laughed a breath out and took a pained one back in, “Anastacha! My baby girl, oh look at you! You have your mother’s nose, her hair too, even-”

“Hello Francis.”

Francis pouts and cocks his head, “Mmm, that's no way to greet your father, young lady.”

She held back a snide remark and she sat down, placing her hands on the table folded, she felt her eyes twitch, “How's prison treating you? You look like shit.”

Francis threw an exaggerated hand to his chest, “Oh how hurtful, Annie-” He gets really close to the window separating them, “It's been… stifling, sweetie… 15 fucking years without my wife and child…” His eyes drone around behind her, “Where is Nacha, sweetie? Unless if you two are doin’ a one on o-”

“She didn't come. Nobody came. It's just me.”

She blinked slowly, no signs of emotion from her.

Francis furrowed his eyebrows, humming, “Hmm, surely she’s just sleeping out in the car, Annie, oh I just know your mother misses me like I miss her!” He giggles, tapping his fingers on the table, the chains making a scraping noise on the wood.

Anastacha snorts and cracks a smile, she pulls a box of cigarettes out and lights one up, “What’s so funny sweetie- ugh, y’know how bad those things are for a little girl like you, Anastacha.”

She takes a drag from it, “Y’think mom misses you, Francis? Yeah, whatever, buddy… I do understand where you're comin’ from, feeling like you're the only one who can protect your mother from your own father.”

She bites the end of her cigarette, feeling her heart strain, “You know how many sleepless nights I've gotten after you got arrested? Having to hear mom cry herself to sleep and have mental breakdowns all because of you, Francis, huh? Do you know how many times I've had to convince my own mother that it’s safe to be alone in a room with another man, hell, another person that isn't me?! Oh my god.”

She buries her face in her hands, scrunching her bangs, rubbing her eyes with her palms and mutters out, “You fucking ruined our lives.” Slamming her hands down on the table, Anastacha looks at him dead in the eyes, not a single glint of light sparkled in her eyes anymore, they’re bloodshot, her eyebags even more noticeable.

Francis frowns, crossing his arms, “Sweetie, you know damn well what kinda people are out there, I was tryna protect you and your mother from the scum of the Earth and those fucking man made pests. And what did youse do? Get me arrested after all I've done for your ungrateful ass and your darling, sweet mother.”

Anastacha rolls her eyes, “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Francis let an annoyed breath out, but collected himself, “So… tell me what you’ve been up to, sweetie.” He flashes her a phony smile.

“I’m a Victim’s Advocate. I'm running my own organization, helping get folks out of domestic situations.” She tugs on her purple bow around her collar, “It's… very rewarding. Mom and dad are real proud of me.”

Francis’ eyebrows raised and his eyes widened, “G-good for you, sweetie, but- I-I’m right here and this is my first time hearing about this! Why'd you say-”

“Oh, yeah, mom’s seein’ someone.”

She watched as Francis slammed his hands on the table and stood up, the chair falling back, “WHO IS HE?! TELL ME. SHE KNOWS GODDAMN WELL THAT SHE BELONGS TO ME AND ME ONLY.” The two guards approached him and pulled him back, Anastacha leans back into her chair, taking a drag, blowing smoke from her nose.

Francis magages to calm down just enough so his vision isn't red anymore, but still feeling his blood boil and his mind race.

“Anastacha Lynn Mosses. You better fucking tell me who this bastard is.”

The guards were about to take him away till Anastacha spoke up and yelled, “Jeez Louise! Boys, calm down! Francis, pay attention.” She snaps her fingers to get his attention.

She reaches into her pocket for her wallet and opens it up, she smiles as she takes her driver's license and a polaroid out. She placed both items flush against the window, “Here 'go, Franny boy.”

Francis broke out of the guard's grasp and got his face close to the window.

He wished what he was looking at was a sick prank his little girl was pulling on her.

On the left was the polaroid, it was his Nacha in the foreground dressed in a long sleeved and puffy wedding gown. Behind her was Angus, in a dark purple tuxedo, holding her waist with one hand and his cane with the other. His vision focused in and out when he slowly rolled his eyes to Anastacha’s license and he felt his heart sink deeper than his first night alone without his family when he read her name.

Anastacha Lynn Mikaelys-Ciprianni.

His eyes pinholed as he looked dead at Anastacha, who was smiling as sweetly as ever.

That motherfucker stole his family from him.

Anastacha softly sighs as she puts her items away back into her wallet.

You could hear a pin drop how quiet it was… till Francis hit the plexiglass window, with his fists, cracking with all of his might. Anastacha jumped putting her hands up, watching the guards pull him back to his room while he was screaming obscenities to her, her mother, and especially her father. She cupped a hand next to her mouth and yelled, “So long, and thanks for all of the fish!”

She chuckles as the door slams shut, she can still hear the dead-beat yell, she turns to the officer that escorted her in, “I'm so sorry you folks had to deal with him for so long.” She reached into her pocket and gives him a stack of her business cards, “Leave ‘em by the sign in desk, y’never know what's going on with a person just by looking at ‘em.” He nodded and escorted her to the next room to watch Francis’ execution…

~

…It went as grizzly as one could go, Anastacha and her police escort were the only ones in the theater when it happened. He looked away while she watched it all go down, never faltering. Even when the vertigo of the electricity flashed her eyes never moved from Francis as she watched the remainder of life leave his body...

~

Afterwards, she left the prison, it was late at night, night life was just getting started, but she was not interested in the slightest. As she lit up another cigarette, she felt a drop of rain hit her nose.

She looked up and saw rain clouds moving in, “Mmm… peculiar… didn't know he had a soul…”

She continued walking until she found a vacant and illuminated phone booth. She entered before the rain started pouring down, the droplets making music on the glass walls. After putting 15 cents in, she slumped against the cooling wall, smoking, looking at people scuttling for cover, waiting for the caller to pick up.

“Ugh, hello? Ciprianni residents, Nacha speaking…”

“Hey mom, it's Anastacha.”

She heard her mother move excitedly on the other end, shaking Angus awake.

“Ana! Hija! How are you?! Are you okay? Did anything happen?! Do you need us to drive over?!”

Anastacha laughed, “No, mom! I'm good, I'm fine, it was very…” She looked for the words as she heard her father speak faint but very tired Italian in the background, “I feel like I closed a large chapter in my life and I’m… glad I went.”

She clears her throat as she hears Angus take the phone, “Ciao, sweetheart, I heard what you said, ‘m happy you decided to go, I’m so proud of you Anne… shit, Nacha, cara mia, what time is it?”

Anastacha huffs, checking her watch, “It's only midnight-thirty, dad!”

Angus groans as both Nacha and Anastacha giggles, “Alright, alright, I’ll let the oldies sleep, I just wanted to let y'all know that I'm outta there and I'm doing good.”

“That's great, hija, you go out and enjoy the night! Don't drink too much!”

“Yes, and remember to aim for the throat and ears if you can! And if you brought your pistol or brass knuckles even better!”

Anastacha heard her mom smack him on the shoulder and he laughed, “Ciao, Anna, you be safe and take care of yourself, mom and I love you-”

Nacha yoinked the phone, “Love you hija! Please come and visit us soon! We always have the guest room open for you!”

Anastacha puts her cigarette out with her dress shoes and smiles, “I love you guys too, when this next case is cleared up I’ll drive over to see y'all before you guys move again, good night!”

They both wish her goodnight and she hangs up. She unlatches the phone booth and exits, the rain is now a drizzle.

Sighing, she decided to take her folks advice and enjoys the evening to the fullest, starting her a new chapter in her life.

~

[temporary-tats]

Hey I'll take you up on that offer of a list of your favourite Bees fics 👀👀👀

Always looking for more. I feel like I've barely scratched the surface though. And if they're half as good as the Midnight Bees fic then yes please!

Oh Anon do I have a list for you.

A Note Before We Begin: Most of these Bumbleby fics are lengthy, multi-chapter pieces, often coming in at 70k+ words. The majority of these recommendations are not light reads because I am a sucker for emotional journeys full of ups, downs, and angst. If you're looking for more lighthearted recommendations, then I am unfortunately too much of an emotional masochist for you! (But, considering you've come here as a fan of MM, I have a feeling you'll enjoy these)

I'll also be updating this post with new fics occasionally, and to update my Top 5! So if you ever need something new to read, come back and check out this recs list :]

~ 💛💜 Now, let's begin 💜💛 ~

My Top 5 Favorite Bumbleby Fics (as of April 2024)

Paring down this list is Incredibly (TM) difficult, but these are 5 fics that brutally obliterated me, emotionally, physically, spiritually, etc.

when I dream of dying I never feel so loved by lescousinsdangeroux - Mature; 73k Words; Alternate Universe - Edge of Tomorrow/RWBY Fusion (Sci-Fi, Time Loop, Grimm, Semblances); TW: Repeated (Temporary) Major and Minor Character Death and Mild Gore

I Know You by Monochrome_Gray - Mature; 238k Words; Alternate Universe - Witches; Semblances as Magic; Clairvoyance; Poly Raven, Summer, and Taiyang; Slow Burn; TW: Minor Character Death, Depression, and Minor Dysphoria (NB Yang)

hear her in the wind by lescousinsdangeroux - Mature; 109k Words; Alternate Universe - The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild/RWBY Fusion (Remnant = Hyrule, Maidens = Champions, Adam = Ganon; Yang = Link and Blake = Zelda; Grimm) TW: PTSD

Gunslinger by pugoata - Mature; 218k Words; Alternate Universe - Western; No Semblances; Sheriff Yang; Politics; TW: Intense Faunus Racism (it's 90% of the plot), Public Execution, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Implied/Referenced Abuse

you're a mountain, full of glory by lescousinsdangeroux - Explicit; 111k Words; Alternate Universe - Modern/Snowboarder and Skier; No Semblances; No Faunus; Friends with Benefits; Found Family; TW: Implied/Referenced Abuse

The Hall of Fame

These are fics that, at one point, touched the Top 5 list. They may have been nudged out by another work, but they're still top tier.

They Can't Steal the Love You're Born to Find by timeespaceandpixiedust - Mature; 101k Words; Alternate Universe - Courtroom, Childhood, College/University; Non-linear Timeline; Adam on Trial; Very Emotional Conversations; Healing; TW: Implied/Referenced Abuse, Brief Depictions of Violence, PTSD, Depression;

Compass by pugoata - Mature; 74k Words; Alternate Universe - Modern, Roadtrip, Soulmates; No Semblances; Hitchhiker Blake; Tense Tai and Yang Relationship; Healing; TW: Implied/Referenced Abuse;

Shelter by pugoata - Mature; 73k Words; Alternate Universe - Farm; No Semblances; Runaway Blake; Farmer Yang; GOATS; Healing; TW: Implied/Referenced Abuse, Brief Depictions of Violence, PTSD;

Brighter by y8ay8a - Explicit; 212k Words; Alternate Canon; Events from Volume 2/3 - Beginning of Volume 7; Very Emotional Conversations; Blake and Yang in the Before and Healing Through the After; TW: Implied/Referenced Abuse, Depression, PTSD;

let you see my wilder side (if i can see your bones) by explosivesky - Explicit; 107k Words; Alternate Universe - Hollywood, Rockstar and Movie Star; Actress Yang; Rockstar Blake; TW: Implied/Referenced Abuse, Brief Depictions of Violence;

take it from your grave by explosivesky - Mature; 48k Words; Alternate Universe - Gothic Horror; Monsters; Curses; Forbidden Romance; Forbidden Found Family; TW: Brief Depictions of Violence, Depression, PTSD;

Other Amazing Works

Didn't quite reach the Top 5, but these fics were still phenomenal.

Midnight Menagerie by Kaelidascope - ONGOING; Explicit; Currently 289k Words; Alternate Universe - Future Dystopia, Sex-Industry, Crime Syndicates; No Semblances; No Faunus; Bartender Yang; Dancer Blake; Street Racing; Gritty Fic, but with Lots of Fluff; Slowburn; Gunning For the Top 5 Once Finished;

NOTE: This fic tackles VERY emotionally intense and gritty topics. While done (in my opinion) very masterfully and with great care, please proceed with caution. TW: Graphic Depictions of Violence, R@pe/Non-Con, Human Trafficking, Past Abuse/Assault of a Minor, Death, PTSD, Emotional Manipulation, Physical Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts;

Praeludium and Allegro by yangsbandana - Mature; 68k Words; Alternate Universe - Orchestra, Conservatory; Viola/Violin Blake; Cello Yang; Healing; TW: Depictions of Abuse, PTSD;

Best Laid Plans by Sawrin - Teen and Up; 10k Words; Alternate Universe - Modern; Dog POV; Fluffy;

Expecting by Sawrin - General Audiences; 8k Words; Alternate Universe - Modern; Best Laid Plans Part 2; Dog POV; Baby on the Way;

From the Heart by Softlight - Mature; 77k Words; Alternate Universe - Modern, Bakery; No Semblances; Baker Yang; Bookstore Owner Blake; Healing; TW: Implied/Referenced Abuse, Brief Depictions of Violence, Depression, Grief

what if it's all just a black abyss (and lips that kiss you) by lescousinsdangeroux - Teen and Up; 30k Words; Alternate Universe - Star Wars; Force Bond; Found Family; Smuggler and Pilot Yang; Runaway Sith Apprentice Blake; TW: Brief Depictions of Violence;

it's not living (if it's not with you) by explosivesky - Mature; 10k Words; Alternate Universe - Pop Punk/Rock Band; No Semblances; No Faunus; No Angst Just Fluff;

Crash Landing by kienava - Mature; 43k Words; Alternate Universe - Modern, College/University, Text Messages; No Semblances; No Faunus; Crack but with Serious Moments; Slow Burn; TW: Implied/Referenced Drug Use;

roads that lead you home by lescousinsdangeroux - Teen and Up; 15k Words; Alternate Canon/Future RWBY; Weiss POV; Bumbleby Included but Not the Full Focus; Found Family; TW: Implied/Referenced Abuse;

you've got me seeing stars by explosivesky - Mature; 25k Words; Alternate Canon; Beacon Never Falls; Happy and In Love Bees; Pining; Partial Sun POV;

shake us together like a snow globe by explosivesky - Mature; 34k Words; Alternate Universe - Modern, College/University, Fake Dating; No Semblances; Home for the Holidays; Mutual Pining; More Emotional than Angsty; TW: Implied/Referenced Abuse;

Mixed Melodies by EmpressOfEdge - Mature; 25k Words; Alternate Universe - Modern, Rock Band; No Semblances; Drummer Yang; Bassist Blake;

Waiting (on You) by Mikotyzini - Teen and Up; 133k Words; Alternate Universe - Modern; No Semblances; No Faunus; Ultimate Slow Burn; Yang is Oblivious;

You and Me, and One Hot Summer by EmpressOfEdge - Mature; 98k Words; Alternate Universe - Modern; No Semblances; Summer Romance; Ultimate Wingman Sun; TW: Implied/Referenced Abuse;

[mugloversonly]

Silver over Gold

Chapter one: Cracked

inspired by: this

ao3

Summary:

Eddie goes to Family Video, giddy to see Steve at work. It doesn't go well.

They’ve been together for three months. After Vecna, he never thought he’d be this happy; but ever since Steve kissed him on his couch, Eddie’s been on cloud nine.

Steve had been acting weird that whole day. They went to the diner and the record store and Steve bought Eddie any record he wanted. If Eddie didn’t know any better, he would have thought it was a date. Turns out, it was because the next thing he knew Steve’s lips were on his and the two have been together ever since.

They aren’t officially courting…yet. But it was only a matter of time, Steve promised. Eddie can be patient though, especially since he’s seen him turn down every other omega that made a pass at him.

At the beginning of this whole thing, Eddie made sure Steve knew he wanted exclusivity. He’d tried the causal thing before and it did not go too well for Eddie.

Steve reassured him he had nothing to worry about, Robin was the only other omega around Steve’s age in their friend group and they were just friends.

He wanted to believe him, even though everyone was saying they were dating or would be soon. Henderson especially was adamant. He’d constantly tell Eddie that Robin was the girl Steve was going to marry and he secretly loved her. He even tried to get him to help figure out if they were secretly dating.

He wanted to bring it up but didn’t want Steve to think he didn’t trust him so he pushed his insecurities to the side and trusted this alpha with all of him. His heat was a few weeks away and the two planned on spending it together. Eddie was nervous. He wasn’t a virgin by any means, but the last time he spent a heat with an alpha...well there’s a reason he’s never done it again.

But Steve, he trusts. He knows Steve will take care of him, like he’s been doing for the past few months, and make sure it’s a good experience. His omega is already purring at the thought and Eddie can’t sit in the trailer waiting for Steve anymore. He grabs his keys and goes to visit his alpha at work.

~~~

As he opened the door to Family Video, the bell chimes but the two employees don’t move. The first thing to register to Eddie was the scent of calming alpha pheromones and an underlying scent that stops his heart. As he stared at the two embracing in front of him, he knew now that he was a fool.

Steve’s arms were wrapped tight around Robin. The omega he told Eddie not to worry about, he said they were just friends. But as he stood frozen, Steve kissed Robin on the cheek near the corner of her mouth, and her scent flooded with joy. They were in their own little world as Eddie’s came crashing down.

Eddie’s normal blood orange scent turned sour as tears sprung to his eyes. He knew the moment it reached Steve because he looked up and gasped in shock. “Eddie!” he said. Eddie scoffed at the panic in his eyes and held back the tears. Humiliation filled him. He turned and bolted back out the door and into his van. Steve was running after him and nearly managed to grab the door before Eddie could pull away. He had to jump back to avoid getting his toes crushed. All the while he was screaming Eddie’s name but he didn’t stop, didn’t breath, until he was back in the government issued trailer. His chest tightened in a eerily familiar way and all he could think was not this again.

~~~

Wayne immediately noticed his anguish. “Ed? You alright?” Eddie didn’t pause on the way to his nest. He made a disgruntled noise and slammed his bedroom door shut. He looked at his nest and the tears finally fell. Steve’s presence was all over it. His yellow sweater was tucked into it, right near the top. It brought Eddie comfort the past few nights since Steve has been staying at his house. At least that’s what he said. But Eddie didn’t know if he believed that now.

Suddenly the idea of Steve’s scent being in his nest disgusted him. He ripped the nest apart and threw everything into the hamper, except Steve’s sweater. That he threw onto the couch on his way to the washer. Wayne watched concern written all over his face. He ignored his uncle’s look and threw everything into the washer. He poured way too much detergent in and pushed start. Then he went back into the living room and stopped short at the sweater on the chair.

He didn’t want to see it any more. He angrily picked it up and stalked through the front door. He threw it into the dirt and stomped away before coming back and throwing it into the trash can. There. Now he wouldn’t have to see it again. His eyes were still blurry when he came back in but he knew he needed to tell Wayne what happened. He sat down next to his uncle and slumped into him, tucking himself into his side as small as he could get. He didn’t say anything yet. He let Wayne hold him as he calmed down.

“What the hell happened, Ed?” Wayne asked. The older Alpha knew his son wouldn’t speak up unless asked.

“He lied Wayne.” Eddie sobbed. Through choking gasps and hiccups he told Wayne what he saw. “He promised she was just a friend. He promised. But he was emitting the same pheromones he does for me.” Wayne released calming alpha pheromones that soothed his nephew. There was a spicy scent of anger there too but Eddie knew it wasn’t at him. “He's gonna leave me, Wayne. Just like everyone else. What am I gonna do?” He asked.

“First things first, let’s build you a new nest okay?” Wayne said. Eddie nodded and the two went to his room. Wayne gave him the flannel he was wearing and the two set about rebuilding. Wayne always helped him as he was the only person Eddie trusted with such a personal ritual. Soon his bed was covered in blankets, Wayne’s clothes, and a shirt from his mom that had long lost it’s scent. He crawled in and began rolling around in it as Wayne tucked him in. “Try to rest kid. I’m calling out of work tonight so I’ll be home if you need me.” Usually Eddie would protest but he really didn’t want to be alone right now.

“Can you come back and sit with me for a bit?” He whispered. He felt small and like he was about to break. He needed his uncle’s presence even if he had to ask like a pup to get it. Wayne agreed and stepped out.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door but Eddie couldn’t be bothered to get it. He curled onto his side into a tight ball. The agony was unreal, one he’d unfortunately felt a few times. Rejection sickness.

Wayne gently opened the door, “Eds. Steve’s at the door. He looks right devastated.” He admitted. “Want me to let him in?”

“I never want to see him again.” Eddie whispered even as his omega cried out for his alpha.

“Son, are you sure?” The older alpha asked. Eddie turned to face him.

“Please, dad.” He choked out. Wayne nodded, ducking out back to the front door. If Eddie didn’t want to handle it, then he was more torn up than Wayne guessed.

He waited until he heard the front door close then he let his omega mourn. He’s always been more in tune with his hind brain than anyone else he’d ever met. It made him more likely to act on instinct but it also made it less likely he’d go feral. He usually loved it, but right now, he wanted nothing more than to fade away and let his instincts take full control.

When Wayne came back, he didn’t say anything. He just sat in Eddie’s nest and let him curl into his side. He ran his fingers through his hair and let out soothing pheromones: the same he released when Eddie’s mama died. It helped dull it, but it couldn’t prevent the sickness altogether. Rejection sickness had its tells, but every omega was slightly different. Unfortunately, Wayne knew all the signs in his nephew. It’s happened twice before: once due to his own father; and once due to his last alpha. Wayne hoped Steve was different but it wasn’t looking good.

Wayne resolved to let Eddie rest for a few days before he forced him to the hospital.

~~~

Eddie moved around the trailer like a ghost for days. After that first night, Wayne couldn’t call out any more, but he made sure to spend as much time with Eddie during the day as he could, even going so far as to sleep in the nest in a puppy pile. During the day, he didn’t feel too lonely. His heart hurt, but he was able to get out of his nest a few times. Wayne sent Steve away every time he came by or called.

But at night when he was alone, the rejection he felt knowing Steve lied was slowly destroying him. He ignored every ring of the phone just to be safe, and refused to answer the door. He spent countless hours digging through his stuff and finding every little thing of Steve’s and putting it in a box. He’d make Wayne give it to him.

He was stuck in a loop of endless thoughts, jumping from hating Steve for doing this to hating himself for falling for it...again. He thought Steve was a different alpha. He was always a romantic in school with his girlfriends, Eddie always hoped he felt as serious about him.

But he was wrong. And he was suffering for it while Steve was out there with a beautiful girl laughing about his stupid conquest.

His scent was fading. The doctor warned him after the last time that it would hit him a lot faster and harder if it happened again and recommended he take medication that helped lower the risk. Stupidly, he stopped taking them once he thought Steve was serious. Why would he need medication preventing rejection sickness when he had the perfect alpha in his bed? God he was an idiot. Maybe letting the sickness take him this time was better than fighting it.

He was pulled from his spiraling by a knock on the window. He tried ignoring it, but it was insistent. He jumped up and slammed the window open, planning on telling whatever sheep was there to fuck off, but he stopped in his tracks. Steve was standing on the other side looking as devastatingly handsome as ever, even though he was clearly angry. The omega whimpered as he unlocked the window before returning to cower in his nest while Steve let himself in.

“What are you doing here Steve?” Eddie asked as confidently as he could as his omega shook with fear. Steve stared at him for a moment.

“You’ve been ignoring me.” Steve stepped forward and went to sit on the edge of Eddie’s bed. Eddie growled at him and bared his teeth. It wasn’t particularly threatening against the alpha, but Steve took the hint and sat at his desk instead. “I came to explain.”

“You don’t need to explain, just leave like I know you’re going to. I should have known.” Eddie spat. “You’re such a liar.” The tears hadn’t stopped, but now they turned cold in anger. “Wayne told you I didn’t want to see you.” Steve sighed softly.

“I thought maybe he said that because he’s your pack alpha and he didn’t actually ask you.” He admitted.

“You told me you’d never leave me. Was that just bullshit?” Eddie yelled unable to contain himself.

“Don’t call me bullshit.” Steve growled, his alpha voice peaking through. Eddie shrank down, trying to make himself smaller and brought his arms up to protect his face. He didn’t think Steve would hurt him, especially with Wayne in the house. But he’s also never used his alpha voice on him.

“Get out.” He demanded meekly. Steve stood and for a second, Eddie thought he would. But instead he crossed the room and knelt next to the bed. “Do you love her?” Eddie glared, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

“Yes I do. Robin is my best friend.” Steve attempted to reassure. But Eddie didn’t want to hear more lies. The box of Steve’s things were by the door and he shoved it into his hands.

“Forget my number, knothead.” He sneered and strode out of his room ignoring Steve’s gasp.

Wayne was at the stove cooking mac and cheese when Eddie walked in, closely followed by Steve. “Eds? You okay?” He asked.

“No.” Came instantly and tight lipped. Wayne turned around to see the boys glaring at each other, but he noticed Eddie was slightly shaking in fear. He turned off the stove and crossed to his side, putting a hand on his shoulder. His nephew calmed slightly.

“What are you doing here, Harrington?” Wayne narrowed his eyes at the boy.

“No offense Wayne, but this is between Eddie and I.” Steve directed at Wayne though his eyes didn’t move. The younger alpha was trying to assert himself but this was Wayne’s territory. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Eddie subtly shake his head. He calmly sat in his recliner and pulled a newspaper over his face, clearly saying act like I’m not here, but I ain’t leaving.

“Why are you here?” Eddie asked again. Steve turned away from Wayne with a scoff.

“I love you.” Steve replied simply. Eddie’s eyes narrowed and he grabbed an empty beer bottle from the recycling bin. He threw it as hard as he could at Steve’s feet.

“How dare you!” He yelled.

“She’s just my friend!” Steve yelled back, unable to reign in his alpha. He was trying to stay calm but Eddie wouldn’t listen. When he saw him flinch back, Steve took a deep breath, he didn’t want to scare him.

“She’s why you won’t court me isn’t she?” He screamed.

“No!” Steve exclaimed dodging another bottle.

“Liar! You kissed her!” He threw another bottle.

“On the cheek!” Steve’s nostrils flared and he scented the air. Suddenly all his anger evaporated.

“You let me fall in love with you. I told you things that I’ve never told anyone but Wayne.” Eddie threw bottle after bottle, until Wayne finally wrapped his arms around his boy. The anger was fading into anguish.“What does she have that I don’t?” He crumpled into Wayne’s arms. “Why would you do this? I thought you wanted me.” The two embracing men sat on the couch with the younger tucking himself into his uncle. “I thought you were different.” His eyes finally met Steve’s again. What Steve saw in them nearly stopped his heart. “I thought you were different, but you’re just like them.” Eddie could no longer see Steve. Lost in his memories of hurts past. “You’re leaving just like them.”

Wayne commanded the younger alpha to approach slowly. He did and crouched in front of Eddie. “I do love her.” The omega whined but Steve forced himself to continue. “She’s like my sister. She got in a huge fight with her friend and I was comforting her. I know how it looks, I do. But I promise. It’s not like that.” He implored.

“I want to believe you.” Eddie whispered.

“Then believe me” He begged lifting his hand to stroke Eddie’s cheek. At the omega’s flinch he dropped his hand, palm up in offer. Eddie didn’t take it.

“I don’t know what to do, Stevie.” Eddie whispered. “You promised you’d never leave.”

“I’m not leaving you.” Steve blinked a few times but didn’t move.

“Please, I can’t…can’t stand it...it hurts, Stevie...I...” Eddie trailed off. “I can’t do this right now, I need a little time.” Tears ran down his face again, his eyes drained of all life. “Don’t leave me just give me a little time, please.” Steve looked up at Wayne. He was at a loss. On one hand, he didn’t want to leave Eddie. But on the other, he didn’t want to upset him further. He was stuck in an omega drop and there was going to be nothing anyone could do if he didn’t snap out of it soon.

“You should get going Steve.” Wayne said. “Call in the morning when I get home from the plant?” Wayne lifted his eyebrows trying to communicate something. Steve nodded and stood to go.

“I’m sorry I hurt you Eddie.” Steve whispered. “I never wanted to do that. I’ll be here whenever you’re ready, no matter how long it takes. I promise.” He left the trailer, clutching the box to his chest, and trying to ignore the sounds of broken omega and a lack of that blood orange scent he loved.

~~~

When he got home he called Robin. He didn’t tell her any details, but he did tell her it didn’t go well and made her promise to leave it alone. That night Steve laid in bed staring at the ceiling. His heart cracked open further as he thought about everything he did wrong. The ignored calls and visits, being turned away by Wayne; at first Steve thought Eddie was just mad at him. He used his alpha voice on Eddie in anger. He showed up half-cocked and frustrated; so blind by his need to clear the air that he couldn’t see the distress his omega was in. His omega needed him but he wasn’t there. He scoffed at himself. His omega. How dare he even think that about Eddie.

He loves him; but, he didn’t start officially courting him. He was so afraid of getting his heart broken again that he broke someone else. Because he’s sure now. It wasn’t just Eddie’s heart that cracked in the entry way to Family Video; it was his soul. His very being was crushed into dust by Steve. If he could have just gotten over his stupid fears, he wouldn’t be here. His...the omega wouldn’t be spiraling into a drop. He smelled as if he’d been suffering rejection sickness untreated for months but it had only been a few days.

Steve shattered the love of his life.

@v3lv3tf0x @lexirosewrites

[baldurs-writers-3]

Angst: A BG3 Rec List

This week, we have Angst!  Check under the cut for 12 fics that include a lot of that oh so tasty pain (both emotional and physical!), and as always, comment and kudos if you like them!

The lick of poison by astarionfreak (4994,Explicit) Warnings: Sex pollen, fuck or die, dubious consent, forced orgasm Pairings: Astarion/Naenia (Fem!Tav)

This is a sex pollen/fuck or die fic. Naenia is the only one affected. Astarion has some complex feelings about consent. It's set in Act 1 in the Underdark.

Reccer says: I liked it!

Daisies On My Nightstand by Thedrowlock on AO3 and bhaalbabebardlock on tumblr (158000,Explicit) Warnings: PLEASE be mindful of all tags and chapter notes especially as you progress through the story. This fic takes a hard, hard dive into dead dove territory at chapter sixty and stays there (the angst stays too). This is an ongoing, updates almost daily longfic. Part one is almost complete. Pairings: Named Dark Urge (Ilara)/Astarion; Ilara/Gortash, Ilara/Shadowheart, Ilara & Raphael, Ilara/A!Astarion

The story of a Bhaal-spawn who only ever wanted her freedom, and how far she'll go to find it.

Reccer says: I liked it!

In Another Life (I Found You) by grovyrosegirl (74380,Mature) Warnings: Violence, Death, Grief, Kidnapping, Emotional/Psychological Abuse Pairings: Gale/Tav

Five years after the Netherbrain’s defeat, Gale and Connie (Tav)’s happy married life is interrupted when Connie is suddenly kidnapped by a mysterious intruder. This intruder turns out to be another Gale, from a world where he claimed the Crown of Karsus.

Reccer says: I liked it!

Deo volente by cyranonic (33529,Mature) Warnings: astarion's past is mentioned, so i guess TW: Astarion :( Pairings: Astarion/Gale

Astarion is having a shitty time post game, miserable without the sun. Gale is having a miserable time as well. Watch them drag each other down even worse!

Reccer says: a darker look than many fics at what could occur after the game is over, with some characters feeling abandoned. Super well written in general, great Astarion voice.

Oathbreaker by Mellybaggins (173240,Explicit) Warnings: Major character death, rape/non-con, religious trauma, some dead dove content Pairings: Tav/Astarion, Tav/Halsin, Tav/OC

A longfic about an oathbreaker paladin navigating the events of the game, and working through her own memories of why she broke her oath.

Reccer says: It seems like a standard Tav fic at first, but takes a sharp turn into OC territory when Raphael messes with her memories.

jackrabbit by tomorrowsrain (15589,Teen) Warnings: past abuse (really, CW: Astarion :( ) Pairings: Astarion & Karlach, Astarion & Wyll

Astarion wakes up on the beach in the sun and realizes he has a chance at becoming a person again. Maybe.

Reccer says: Seriously one of the best examinations of Astarion's transformation during the game from the start of act 1 to mid act 2 that is out there. A treasure to read.

You'll hate me (make love) by astarionfreak (5305,Explicit) Warnings: Character About to Die, Smut, Sad and Sweet, Angst, Bittersweet Pairings: Astarion/Tav

Ascended Astarion pretends to be his spawn self as Tav's dying wish and they fuck on his grave.

Reccer says: I liked it!

Diary of a Dark Consort by NottaBear (8,619 and growing ,Mature) Warnings: Implied/Referenced sexual assault, emotional manipulation Pairings: Named Tav/Ascended Astarion

A found diary style story following the life of a Vampire Lords consort.

Reccer says: I liked it!

i still want to live by fetch_me_penguins (7750,Explicit) Warnings: None Pairings: Astarion/Tav, Astarion & Jaheira, Tav & Jaheira

An angsty take on the premise of Cazador kidnapping Tav to replace the spawn she killed on the Ascension ritual and to teach Astarion a lesson on obedience.

Reccer says: I liked it!

Ruin. by Thedrowlock (3859,Explicit) Warnings: Major character death, smut Pairings: Astarion/f! reader

It's been five years since you left The Vampire Ascendant and everything he offered you, but now you're back to handle him. Why is that so hard?

Reccer says: I liked it!

Stolen Futures by onlymine139 (2530,General) Warnings: Major character death Pairings: Gale/Tav

Gale and Tav journey to Waterdeep to start their new life together, only to be interrupted by a devastating realization.

Reccer says: Just some good old fashioned heartbreak.

when the work needs doing, she will see it done by vampireposter (7940,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: The Dark Urge & Jaheira

A small neglected and abused child attempts to assassinate Jaheira, so she adopts her about it

Reccer says:

The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! 

Next week, we’ll be back with Fluff Fics!

[elle-oh-ell3]

so i want all my friends to watch dead poets society with me and in an effort to promote it i gave it ‘tags’ as if it were an ao3 fic. these are all real tags lol (apart from the silly details in lowercase obviously), but also i made it kinda how i view the film *looks at the ship tags*. also there’s like no tags for keating which is annoying given what a big part of the film he is

Rating: 

Teen and Up Audiences 

Archive Warnings:

Major Character Death

Categories:

M/M, Gen

Relationships:

Neil Perry/Todd Anderson, John Keating/George McAllister, The Poets (Dead Poets Society)

Characters: 

Neil Perry (Dead Poets Society), Todd Anderson, Charlie Dalton, Knox Overstreet, Steven Meeks, Gerard Pitts, Richard Cameron, John Keating, Chris Noel, Chet Danbury, Ginny Danbury, Thomas Perry, Mrs Perry, Stick (Dead Poets Society), Tina (Dead Poets Society), Gloria (Dead Poets Society), Spaz (Dead Poets Society), Dr. Hager (Dead Poets Society), George McAllister, Gale Nolan

Additional Tags:

Gay Subtext, Child Emotional Abuse, Child Neglect, tw: relatively mild themes of suicide, only towards the very end tho, haha towards the end of that guys life too, Period-typical Racism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Actor Neil Perry (Dead Poets Society), POV Neil Perry (Dead Poets Society), Neil Perry (Dead Poets Society) Is In Love, Todd Anderson Needs A Hug, POV Todd Anderson, Todd Anderson-centric, Anxious Todd Anderson, Writer Todd Anderson, Todd Anderson/Neil Perry-centric, Poetry, Inspired By Poetry, Walt Whitman, Walt Whitman Poetry, References to Shakespeare, Bisexual Charlie Dalton, Charlie Dalton needs a hug, Non-con Elements, Non-Graphic Non-Con, Teen Angst, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt No Comfort, Teen Romance, Queer Themes, Minor Violence, veryyy minor, Mental Health Issues, High School, Boarding School, School Uniforms, Theatre, Sad Ending, Open Ending, 20th Century, Sneaking Out, Sneaking Around, Autumn, Slice of Life

[insoukokuhell-434]

Chuuya Takes Care of Dazai Fics

Includes:

Emotional Hurt/Comfort (long term & immediate)

Physical Hurt/Comfort

The format I’m using is:

Title - writer (ao3 link) Fic length Time period (teen/mafia skk, 22! Skk, all ages) Additional tags (Tags in bold added by me for extra info) TW

Some fics have parts of the summary/ comments added for additional info

Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Long Term (multiple instances)

hey look, the sky's falling apart - saffroncassis    

24.8k TEEN SKK (16/17) AU - Canon Divergence Protective Nakahara Chuuya, Angst, Fluff, Humor, Developing Relationship Found Family (the Akutagawa siblings, Oda's kids, Kyouka, Oda, Ango) TW- Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse and discussions of both these, also cw food for the whole fic

Summary - "At age 16, Chuuya defects from the Port Mafia and drags his partner with him not so much kicking and screaming as silently begrudging, and the rest follow suit in time."

Mostly Chuuya helping Dazai, but Dazai supports him too <33

[Really realistic depiction of the relationship between a depressed person and their supportive partner!]

For the Record - zombiemarker

19.1k TEEN SKK  AU- Spies & Secret Agents + Physical Hurt/Comfort Nightmares, Childhood Trauma, they get all dressed up and go to a gala, Implied Sexual Content, Fluff & Angst, Literal sleeping together, Getting together, First kiss, Developing Relationship TW - Blood and Violence, Childhood Trauma

From tags: "Chuuya's a government experiment, Dazai's been with Mori for years, they've both got trauma now"

Mostly Chuuya helping Dazai, but Dazai supports him too <33

A mouth to empty into - series by osamuchuu

Not listing all 4 fics cause this post is already so long, but they’re all amazing pls go read them!

The series depicts depression + CSA trauma so well!

This is my favourite -

Love is not a victory march - osamuchuu

8.7k 22 SKK Soukoku taking care of each other, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mental Illness, Depression, Drug Addiction, Blood and Injury, Healing, Recovery, Soukoku Tenderness, Light Angst TW -  Dazai-Typical Suicide References and Attempts, Addiction, Drug Use

believe me darling, the stars were made for falling -communist_sasuke

14.6k ALL AGES Worried Chuuya, Love Confessions, Dazai is a Mess, Angst, Self-Harm , Fluff & Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon timeline, First Kiss, TW - Dazai-Typical Suicide Mentions , Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt

Trust Fall - insi 

3.5k ALL AGES (Dark Era, Post-Dark Era, 22 SKK) Emotional Constipation, Mental Health Issues, Dazai has issues TW - Implied/Referenced Suicide & Self-Harm, Suicidal ideation

From tags: Chuuya has met Dazai on the rooftop many times throughout knowing each other.

Immediate

Emotional H/C

Even the Darkness We're Watching Is So Beautiful - NastyaEx

4k 22 SKK (post-109) bsd 109, Fluff, Dazai Needs a Hug, Dazai is a Mess, exhausted dazai, dazai cries but only a little bit, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sharing a Bed, Soft skk, Dazai centered, yosano is a bit here and she's great

I'll Make A Home In Your Gut Because its Somewhere Warm to Sleep - arahabakii

8.9k 22 SKK Fluff, Angst, Mutual Pining, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Making Out, Getting Together, Domestic Fluff, Touch-Starved Dazai, Dazai needs a hug, Chuuya needs a hug TW - Dazai-Typical Suicide References

stay- neon_toad

4.6k 22 SKK (pm!skk flashbacks) Suffering Dazai, Dazai Needs a Hug , Dazai is Bad at Feelings, Oblivious Dazai Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hugs, birthday, Birthday Presents, soft skk TW - Dazai-Typical Suicide References

where are you? - doeinstinct

2.8k 22 SKK Depression, Disordered Eating, physical symptoms of depression, Mentions of past self harm, m because they shower together, canon adjacent, meal replacements, Love Confessions, They're In Love Your Honor

Run Away With Me - Anonymous

5.3k Dark Era Grief/Mourning, Dissociation, Suicidal Thoughts, Soft Soukoku, Dazai Needs a Hug , Dazai Has Feelings, Pining, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sharing a Bed, Chuuya Needs a Hug, Kissing, Dazai asks Chuuya to run away with him

stay the night - Shinkirou

3.6k 22 SKK Gen or Pre-Slash, Developing Relationship, Character Study, Sharing a Bed, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Dazai's depression

Physical Hurt/Comfort

Fool for loyalty, or some other word - osamuchuu

1.7k Dark Era Aftermath of Torture, Blood and Injury Light Angst, chuuya deals with so much tbh, what a champ, Fluff and Angst, Pre-Relationship, Established Relationship, chuuya being Dazai's nurse because he absolutely was Dazai's angry nurse

under wraps - Coffeebiscuits

5k Post-Dark era + Emotional hurt comfort Love confessions, deep talks, Light angst, Fluff and angst, kissing, crushes, sharing a bed, Suicide, Self-Harm, Tending to Wounds TW - Dazai-Typical Suicide Mentions, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm 

From tags: “basically chuuya has to patch dazai upand they talk about some things they need to discuss”

Chuuya also gets some emotional comfort

EXHAUSTION

So if you go too far I'll be there - Kimisu

2.5k 22 SKK - Pre-Fyodor | Cannibalism Arc  No Plot/Plotless, Literal Sleeping Together, Some Fluff, Canon Timeline

From Summary: Based on a HC that Dazai spends days before every major arc planning and arranging the pieces in order for everything to 'work'. He also pushes his body limits a bit too far when doing that sometimes.

SICK FIC

Nothing More Important Than You - StormDew2

3k MAFIA SKK (15) Sickfic, Soft soukoku, Vulnerability

Please like/reblog if this helped u find a fic, I'd be delighted to know asjsj <3

“Dazai takes care of Chuuya” recs here

Fic rec masterlist here

[obsessedwithlute]

No Use Trying To Fight It

Happy birthday @niafromheaven!!

Emily x Adam X Lute (AngelicGuitarSword), angst, no happy ending.'

TW/CW alcohol, heavily implied depression, queerphobia, implied/referenced abuse, swearing

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

ADAM | “I Miss You, I’m Sorry” - Gracie Abrams

Adam stared blankly at Charlie, who was going on a rant about happiness and marshmallows and shit to Alastor across the room. He resisted the urge to laugh at her stupidity. As if true happiness even existed. Charlie’s idea of the word was really just bliss. Two completely different things.

Ever since his death, Adam had done a good job faking to Charlie how grateful he was for the second chance she had granted him, and how determined he was to make a change in his afterlife.

When really, all he wanted to do was become good enough that maybe he would prove himself wrong and go back to heaven.

Wanting to prove himself wrong was never something he had thought would happen. Fuck it. It was too hard to be sober this week. Adam got up, left the room, and trudged over to Husk’s bar. The flying cat wasn’t there, so he just poured himself a huge glass of beer, downing it all in one gulp. Adam looked around to decide what type of alcohol he’d consume next.

You know, drinking that much will only make you sadder, Emily’s voice echoed in his head.

“Stop it,” he hissed. “You’re not here.”

He hadn’t heard of anything concerning Emily for the last few months. Adam could only hope that Sera wasn’t lying to her and locking her up and “protecting” her again.

She probably was. Sera wouldn’t change.

Adam uncorked a bottle of cheap booze and took a few long gulps straight from the bottle. It burned his throat, but distracted him enough that it was worth it.

Emily still wasn’t getting herself out of his mind. Was Sera hurting her? Threatening her? Forcing her to do her bidding? Adam started to breathe heavier. Adrenaline and anxiety coursed through his veins. He collapsed to the ground, unable to support himself.

Lute’s voice appeared in his head. The high and mighty leader of the Exorcists, in a heap on the floor of Lucifer’s brat’s hotel. Toughen up, Adam.

“I can’t,” he gasped.

Emily again, You failed me. You lied, just as much as Sera did. And then you couldn’t even save yourself in the battle.

“I’m sorry.”

It was his fault, it was all his fault. He deserved this pain and fear and hurt. And worse, he’d been too much of a fucking coward to even tell them how he felt before he died.

EMILY | “Rumors” - Ava Max

Emily stood crooked over a thick novel, combing through every page, searching for some hidden meaning in the words. The only thing she could decipher from it was that the title, Les Miserables, perfectly described the mood in Heaven these last few months, what with the constant rumors. About a lot of things- the exterminations, Sera’s authority, the fabric of Heaven itself- but especially about Adam.

He was gone for good, true death.

He was in Heaven but waiting, biding his time.

He was in Hell and an overlord.

She didn’t want to believe any of them, although something had to have happened. You can’t rewind time and go back to when you didn’t know your sister was a liar, when your crush wasn’t maybe dead, when your other crush wasn’t a walking shell of a being.

At least she wasn’t ashamed to admit her emotions, unlike most people she’d spent her life speaking to.

Everyone had always thought of Emily as the innocent one, the sweet one. Sera’s naive little sister. And she had to keep up that persona now, as always. Feelings had never mattered to Sera, and they certainly weren’t about to start mattering to her now- especially when those feelings involved the wish to be in a relationship that, if Emily were to bring up with Sera, the seraphim would perceive as unfaithfulness, what with her conservative mindset.

And as much as Sera was a liar and a turd, Sera was all Emily had. And she couldn’t give that up for a relationship that would never happen.

Emily read a few more words and slammed the thousand-page tome down on her desk.

Air, that was what she needed. Fresh air, maybe some of those chocolate-dipped strawberries they had down in the lobby. Emily could take care of herself. She stepped out onto the balconies and took a few breaths.

In, out. In, out. In, out.

She went on like that for a few minutes until she was a bit calmer. Alright, Em, see? It’s not so bad after all. Now keep your mouth shut, attend Sera’s meetings, don’t under any circumstances even look at Lute…

You can do this.

You’ve always done this.

You’re stronger than they think.

LUTE | “champagne problems” - Taylor Swift

Lute had always dealt with her negative emotions in one way and one way only: Violence.

Punching a wall, sword fighting another Exorcist, killing a few sinners- anything, really, as long as it involved violence or weapons of some sort.

But that’s because her negative emotions had always fallen into one of three categories: Anger, cockiness, disappointment.

Never anything close to “sad”.

But she fucking sucked at describing how she felt, and “sad” was really the only word she could come up with to explain this… this weird feeling, almost like her soul was being ripped out of her body, like she couldn’t control her limbs enough to get up and stab something. Or someone. Stabbing someone sounded really satisfying.

What was that thing Vaggie had always said to her? Oh, right. You need to find ways to cope with your emotions other than extreme violence and cruelty.

Kind of ironic, considering what had ended up happening to Vaggie.

What Lute had done to Vaggie.

Lute rolled her eyes. Everyone made mistakes, right? But your mistakes end up either killing or permanently injuring people… That’s normal. That’s very normal. That’s kind of what you were created to do. It’s fine.

Ugh, there were people outside of her door, and they were talking very loudly, and maybe she should stab them to make them shut the fuck up. But, wait. Would stabbing them be considered sanctioned, or would she have to sit through one of Sera’s lectures about self-control again?

And if she had to sit through one of Sera’s lectures about self-control again, would she at least get to see Emily as a result? And why the fuck did she want to Emily? Get a grip on yourself, you are the lieutenant- now commander- of the Exorcists. You represent Heaven. You are too strong to-

The people outside her room weren’t done talking.

Two of her Exorcists, neither of them liked her that much.

“...heard she wanted to fuck Adam,” one of them said.

Were they talking about her? “Please, we both know she’s one of those gay freaks. Probably had her eye on Sera or something,” the other responded,

Shit, they were definitely talking about her.

They didn’t think she was in her room. At this time of day, she was always training. They were just having fun gossiping about her in front of her own door.

“Damn asshole. She deserves to end up in hell, just like Adam.”

“Hah! She’d be happy, wouldn’t she? Get to be around those fuckups just like her.” Fuckup.

They were right.

Wait- what about Adam?

“Can’t believe Sera never told her. Guess she wouldn’t want her or our little bitch of a princess to go running off looking for them.”

Emily.

Sera had lied.

Again.

Lute heard some more laughter, and then the Exorcists walked off.

Emily.

Lute needed to tell her- but she couldn’t. Emily didn’t want to talk to her. Emily hadn’t even looked at her since the battle.

There was nothing she could do.

<Hope you have a much better birthday than these guys, Nia! <3>

[ikolaiigh]

Tainted Graveyard

•𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀...As a geek in high school, you were in the pit of the school's hierarchy - That stays like that until you gain the Decay of Angels- the most popular trio in Yokohama's High, attention. Everything was supposed to be simple until an unstable boy stumbles into your life, What was supposed to be a joyous Senior year, turned out to be the most daunting, death-ridden year, and him being the reason for it.

•𝑮𝑬𝑵𝑹𝑬...angst, hurt/comfort, Dark content, Heathers AU, a little bit of fluff if you squint

•𝑻𝑾/𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺...Gaslighting, trauma, murder, gore,Dazai is extremely unhinged and fucked up, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, violence,smut, Mentions of abuse, sexual assault, Suicide, forged Suicide, Gun violence, bullying, Mental Breakdown, bomb threats, blood and injury, abuse, physical abuse, violent thoughts, death threats, suicidal thoughts, Survivor Guilt, Mental Health Issues, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Unhealthy Relationships, Alcohol, Drugs & Smoking, Every chapter when release will have its own warning.

•𝑷𝑳𝑨𝒀𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻...

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍

𝐓𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 (𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐭)

•𝘈/𝘕..Hey guys! First series and fic ever that I am posting, Probably due to school it will be difficult to finish it but oh well. This is a Bsd Heathers AU, Each chapter will have its proper trigger warnings (since Heathers + bsd is a whole tw bomb) and for the sake of the fun, Reader even though is going to be Veronica in this, they're gonna have some questionable morals, also you'll probably gonna see drawings abt this AU.

•𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺...

𝘚𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 1𝘴𝘵 1989, 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘺- (Coming Soon)

𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘊𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘺 𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦-

𝘚𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦?-

̶...𝘛𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥

𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻...

@yuugen-benni

𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱 © 2023 𝗩𝘀𝗸𝗸𝗼𝗹𝘆𝗮𝗮. 𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗼𝗱𝗶𝗳𝘆 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺.

[thevegandarkelf]

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Fifteen

Masterlist

AO3 link

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist <3 (18+ only, MDNI)

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, discussion of past suicide, discussion of parent death (suicide, house fire), mention of scars (Daryl's), medical procedure (stitches), blood, allusion to child abuse (Daryl's), men being creepy, reference to sibling death, we got some big emotions in this one

Word count: 3.3k

Daryl and I began to get much closer after that second run. Eating dinner together became sort of a ritual of ours, other than the nights Daryl had duty in the watchtower. At first, it was him in the chair and me on the far end of the couch as I didn’t want to spook him. He never explicitly said it, but I got the vibe that he wasn’t big on physical touch. He always maintained at least a few feet distance between us, never getting too close. Eventually, I tested the waters and sat on the end of the couch closer to him, and that’d been our dinner arrangement ever since. Over the next few weeks, Rick had us go out on more runs. It was strange to me that I always heard about them from Daryl and never from Rick. I didn’t want to do anything that could get me in trouble, like leaving the sanctity of the walls when I wasn’t supposed to, but I was simply following instructions that I was told came from our fearless cowboy leader.

I joined Daryl once when he was working on his bike, and he showed me some stuff about it. Though he was so beautiful that day, I’ll admit, it was hard for me to keep focus. He was wearing one of his classic button-ups with the sleeves cut off, that angel-wing vest he loved so much, and a pair of ripped jeans that hugged his body just right. It was warm, so he was sweating buckets. I was practically drooling as I watched his arm muscles flex and relax as he worked. The way he glistened with sweat, the little hints of joy I heard in his voice as he talked to me about his motorcycle, his gorgeous accent…he was mesmerizing.

He still came and checked on me every night after I fell out of bed, another ritual of ours I suppose. It had evolved to a point where I would stay lying on the floor and give a thumbs up over the side of the bed when I heard the door open, then he’d leave. We’d sometimes spend mornings together, but usually one of us was always up and out before the other was awake, or if Daryl had overnight watch, he’d be just going to sleep when I got up. Typically, the one who got up first made coffee and left the rest out for the other. Sometimes, if he was coming back from an overnight watch, I’d wake up and go downstairs to find the pot just finishing up brewing.

It was obvious one of Daryl’s love languages was acts of service. He didn’t so much have a way with words, but damn he was good at showing how much he cared. Not just towards me, but the way he cared about the whole of Alexandria. He was always volunteering to go on watch, runs, hunts, you name it. He cared so much about the people here and would do whatever he needed to do to make sure we were all safe and protected. And that only made me fall for him even harder.

Though he typically wasn’t one for expressing his emotions with words, there was one morning when he left me a note. I came downstairs, and he was already out as he had gate duty all day. He had poured me coffee in a white mug with daisies on it that I once casually mentioned was my favorite mug of the ones in the cabinet, and there was a short but sweet note with it.

Have the best day

See you at dinner

I kept the note folded up in the back of my notebook where I kept some photos and a note from my brother.

Today, Daryl was teaching me how to hunt. Well, it was the start of that process. First, there was target practice. And I was getting to pick up and shoot that infamous crossbow.

Daryl had carved an X for a target on a tree, and my goal was to hit as dead center as I could. I knelt on one knee behind a fallen tree, which I was instructed to use to steady the crossbow and practice that way first. I could throw a knife over my shoulder and hit a walker square in the forehead. How hard could a crossbow be?

“Does this thing have recoil?” I asked as he handed it to me, “wow, it’s lighter than I thought it’d be.” I flipped the bow around and examined it, running my fingers over its smooth surface but was careful to make sure I didn’t touch anything that looked like a lever or a button. Didn’t wanna go causing any accidents right out the gate.

“Hardly any,” Daryl said, kneeling next to me. We were almost shoulder-to-shoulder. This was the closest we’d ever been, and I could feel the butterflies in my stomach breaking free and trying to crawl their way up my throat.

“You ever kill anyone with this thing?” I asked.

“Yeah. Sometimes, people are more dangerous than them walkers,” he explained, and I nodded. I was all too familiar with the dangers of other human beings during the end of the world.

“I know what you mean,” I replied. I rested the bow on the fallen tree and kept my gaze on the X carved into the tree in front of me. “I’ve never killed anyone. I don’t know if I could. It goes against the oath I took.”

"Hate to burst your bubble, but that don't matter no more."

“I guess not,” I shrugged, “but enough of that, let’s get to practicing.”

“‘lax your shoulders,” he said, gently placing his hands on both of my shoulders and lightly pressing to help me relax them. This was the first time he’d touched me on purpose. My stomach dropped like I was on a rollercoaster. “Geez, you’re tense woman.”

I wouldn’t be so tense if you didn’t make me so nervous, I thought. I propped the crossbow up onto my shoulder like I’d seen Daryl do a thousand times.

“It’s no good if ya don’t load it,” he said. He picked a bolt off of the front of it and reached around me to load it. His arm rested against my back as he strapped the bolt in. It was like he was testing the boundaries of physical closeness, though I didn’t know whether it was mine or his that he was testing. But I didn’t mind one bit. I steadied the bow on my shoulder and the fallen tree, aiming it at my target.

“Ya really gotta relax,” Daryl said, “can’t have this gettin’ in the way neither.” He took the end of my ponytail and draped my hair over my opposite shoulder, “damn, ya hair’s real soft.” I felt myself melting into a puddle, and my hands started to shake a bit as my heart rate picked up.

“Thank you. I grew it all by myself,” I laughed.

“How long'd it take ya to grow it out?”

“Oh God, I think the last time I got a drastic haircut was when I was like 13,”  I explained, “sometimes I think about chopping it all off because it gets in my way so much. And it feels like it weighs 20 pounds when it’s wet.”

“Ya should keep it long. Looks good.” I smiled and looked down at the ground, trying to hide that I was obviously turning red.

“Thanks,” I said. I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself again.

“Hey, you’re shakin’,” Daryl said, placing a hand on my shoulder in an effort to help me relax, “just take a breath. You’re good.” His voice was soft, soothing, and calming. Still laced with his gravely accent, but there was genuine caring and compassion behind his words.

“Nervous jitters I guess,” I said, taking another deep breath in through my nose. I lied straight through my teeth.

“Alright, look through the scope and aim it at the target,” he said. He kept his hand on my shoulder.

“Looks easy enough,” I said, perhaps a little too confidently as I did as he instructed.

“Once ya got it lined up, ya just pull the lever on the bottom,” Daryl explained, “helps if ya breathe out when ya do it.” I took a deep breath and fired, exhaling like he told me to. The bolt went flying right past the tree, not even grazing it. It landed far off in the grass somewhere I couldn’t see.

“I stand corrected on it looking easy,” I said, feeling horrifically embarrassed, “I missed the tree completely. How did I even do that?”

“It happens. Gotta get used to holdin’ it still. C’mon, I’ll show ya how to load it.” He gestured for me to hand his bow to him.

“At this point, I’ll just be happy to hit the tree at all,” I said, giggling a little to try to make myself feel better.

That’s how we spent the next couple of hours. Me attempting to hit the tree, somehow missing it completely or just grazing it, which was starting to feel like a win, and trying to find the bolts in the grass. He never seemed to get impatient or frustrated with me, even when I was starting to get frustrated with myself. He reassured me, helped me set up and reload, and tried to help me feel more confident.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally did it. I hit the very outskirts of the giant X target, but I hit it nonetheless. I about jumped into the air with how excited I was.

“Oh my God, I did it!” I cheered, nearly dropping the crossbow to the ground in surprise. A gigantic grin spread across my face as I looked at Daryl. “I did it!”

“Knew ya could do it,” he congratulated. He had reached out and was stroking the back of my arm with his fingers. His touch was so light, it felt like being tickled with a feather. I could feel goosebumps forming, but thankfully, my sleeve hid them. “Think that’s the first time I seen ya do that too.”

I looked at him with a puzzled expression. “Seen me do what?”

“Smile like that.” It occurred to me that he was referring to the fact that I was smiling with my teeth out. And he was right—this was the first time I’d smiled like that in months.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

That evening, I found myself working late in the infirmary. A couple of the kids had gotten into a fight, and while their injuries weren’t too bad, they still required attention. A couple of scraped knees and small cuts later, I was supposed to be going home for the evening, but as I was getting ready to leave, the infirmary door swung open one last time, and in came Daryl. He’d been covering gate duty for a couple of hours, and I figured he must’ve seen the infirmary light on and came to check on me.

“Hey, there’s my little Georgia peach,” I said, giving him a big smile. He looked at me with a solemn face, which concerned me a little. “Daryl…are you ok?” He didn’t say anything at first. He simply kept eye contact with me as he stepped closer.

“I, uh, need your help with somethin’,” he said. He took his bow off of his back and turned around. There was a sizable gash across his mid-back, his clothes stained with dried blood.

“Jesus, get your ass up here,” I ordered, gesturing to the exam table. I started grabbing things like gloves and antiseptic. “What the hell happened?”

“Couple of ‘em pricks was talkin’ ‘bout ya,” he said as he sat down on the table and scooted back to the edge. I froze and swallowed hard. I hadn’t really gotten to know any of the men who typically had gate duty, and the only times I saw them were when I was coming and going through the gate, and I was always with Daryl.

“You got this defending me? Jesus, I’m so sorry. I feel awful.” I continued grabbing everything I would need, like cotton pads, medical tape, tools for stitches, and antibiotics.

“Nah, jackasses had it comin’.”

“What did you do to them?”

“Roughed ‘em up a bit. Let ‘em know not to say nothin’ like that ‘gain,” Daryl explained.

“Do I wanna know what they were saying about me?”

“Probably not. Bein’ a buncha creeps.” The never-ending list of things they could’ve been saying swirled through my mind, and I felt sick. I suppressed the nausea that quickly made its home in my stomach.

“Great. Just when I was starting to feel safe here,” I sighed. I thought I’d finally found a place away from the prying eyes of creepy men, but unfortunately, I was wrong.

Daryl looked back over his shoulder at me with kind eyes. “Don’t worry. I won’t let ‘em give ya any trouble.” I gave him a smile and a nod.

“Alright, I need you to take your shirt off. Then I’m gonna clean it and stitch it up. I’ll talk you through each step so you know what to expect since you can’t see it,” I explained. I slipped my gloves on after washing my hands thoroughly and scooted a stool over with my foot so I would sit higher up. Daryl fidgeted a little on the table, and he seemed nervous. I could tell he was in pain from his injury, but something else seemed to be bothering him.

“If you’re not comfortable taking your shirt off, that’s ok. I just need you to lift it enough so I can work,” I said, “don’t wanna go stitching your shirt to your back.” To my surprise, he lifted his shirt up and off over his head, letting it slide down his arms into his lap.

When he did, I understood why I’d never seen Daryl shirtless before.

There were scars all across his back. Not the kind of scars you’d get from being in a motorcycle or car accident, or burn scars, or from taking a really bad tumble as a kid. No, these scars were intentionally inflicted by another person. My heart shattered, but I kept my composure.

How could someone do something so awful to someone so good?

I made sure to utilize my calming bedside manner voice. “There is nothing to be embarrassed about. I have seen anything you can possibly imagine. Plus, I have scars of my own. I know better than to ask about anyone else's."

I grabbed a cloth soaked with some warm water so I could clean up some of the dried blood, and I gently started rubbing it on his back. “I’m gonna try to get as much of this dried blood off as I can.” He tensed a little bit under my touch, so I tried my best to be even lighter, but I could only press so lightly while still getting the blood off. I decided to clean just enough around the wound to make the process quicker, and he could take care of the rest when he showered.

“Alright, I have to clean it now so it won’t get infected. I won’t lie, this is going to sting a little. But I’m just taking a cotton pad with some antiseptic and patting around it,” I explained. I started patting his wound with the cotton pad, and he flinched just a tiny bit. I placed my other hand on his arm and stroked it gently with my thumb. “Hey, you’re ok. You’re doing great.” As I stroked his arm, I felt him start to relax.

My heart was breaking for him. The sensation of the antiseptic in his open wound must’ve felt similar to whatever created the scars on his back. I tried to think of something to talk about to distract him.

“I like your tattoo, Daryl,” I said, “does it mean anything?”

“Jus’ thought it looked cool,” he replied.

“I actually have a few tattoos of my own,” I told him, “I know, there’s something you didn’t know about me. I have a sternum piece with flowers on it, bumblebees on the back of each of my thighs, and a bouquet of daisies on the front of my right hip. I liked the idea of having tattoos that only certain people get to see. People that I get to choose." I hoped that, maybe one day, I’d get to show Daryl my tattoos. I set the cotton pad on the table next to him. “I’m done cleaning it now. Could you straighten up for me? I’m gonna stitch it up now. It’ll probably hurt a little, but it won’t burn like the antiseptic did.”

"They mean anythin'?" he asked as he sat up straight.

"I really like sternum pieces, so that's why I got that one. Daisies are my favorite flower, and the bumblebees are for my mom.” I got to work stitching him up as I talked. “Gardening was her favorite hobby, and we had a huge one in our backyard growing up. She taught my brothers and I about the different kinds of pollinators and how important they were. Bumblebees were her favorite. I got them a couple of years after she passed.”

“Lost my mom too,” Daryl said. It was the first time he’d mentioned his mom in any capacity. “What happened to her? If you’re ok talkin’ ‘bout it.”

“She umm…she killed herself a couple of months after Preston died. Hung herself in his closet. My dad was the one that found her.” I blinked back some tears. Stitching up someone’s wound was not the time to be crying. “Her mental health really declined after his passing. I mean, all of ours did, but hers was the worst. She couldn't stand losing one of her children, so she left the other three behind. At least that's what it felt like. The anger stage of my grief lasted a very, very long time.”

There was a heaviness that hung in the air as I finished stitching his wound. It felt suffocating, like it was a heavy weight pressing on my chest. I lowered the volume of my voice a little to keep myself from crying. “Alright, I’ve just gotta wrap it up and you’re done.”

“Mine was a house fire,” he started to explain, and as he talked, I continued wrapping his wound, using as gentle of a touch as I could and offering small comforting pats and strokes in between. I felt his muscles continue to relax into my hands as I worked. “I was a kid. Ran home after we saw fire trucks comin’ down the street. Finally caught up to the other kids and saw it was my house. Mom was inside. Some combo of her wine ’n smokes. Didn’t feel real for a long time.” Before I finished patching him up, I ran my hands over the back of his arms and offered small squeezes, like tiny hugs from my fingers. This was by far the most vulnerable he’d been around me, and I wanted to make sure he felt safe, seen, and comforted.

“I’m so sorry Daryl. You didn’t deserve for that to happen.”

"Didn’t deserve yours neither.” I ran my fingers over and flattened out the last piece of medical tape.

“There we go, you’re all patched up now,” I said, grabbing a small bottle of antibiotics and handing it to him. “you’ll have to change the dressing every day. I can help you with that. And you’ll have to take those for like a week. Make sure you stay on top of that.”

“Do I gotta? Didn’t think it was that bad,” he said, flipping the little orange bottle around in his hand.

I sat myself up on the exam table next to him, “Daryl, what kind of doctor would I be if I let you get an infection?”

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