#i feel like all i ever draw anymore is gerard

[omtai]

CHOOSE YOUR FIGHTER...

💚 Cheer Captain 💉 Nurse M. Practice 💼 Living Dead Girl

[rdiowxdeaddove]

▶︎ 00.01 - love him.

WARNINGS!: Rape/noncon, restraints, Gerard is a “little” unhinged, basement Gerard being gross (in more ways than one), forced relationship towards the end, manipulation, slapping, bleeding, crying, drugging, love-bombing, suffocation just a little and like once.

This aint proofread its 6am (i started this at 12am)

Summary: Gerard confesses to you but little does he know you’ve only been hanging out with him out of pity, but dont worry he’ll fix that.

Nah this the longest shit I’ve written.

AMAB!READER X BASEMENT!GERARD

You and your friend Gerard —if you could even call him your friend— were both sitting on his bed in the basement of his house, nobody else was here probably having something to do unlike Gerard whose only friend was you, he considered you his best friend. You were both watching some movie that you couldn’t focus on anymore once he started talking about a comic he was working on. “Well are you gonna show me or are you just gonna keep talking about it?” You cut him off, turning your head towards him taking your eyes off the tv. “Oh..Oh yea uh it’s over here.” He replied, getting up off the bed and walking to the other side of the room towards his cluttered desk. You followed after him, you figured he was probably expecting you to anyways. You were quickly proven wrong when he bumped into you, causing him to drop his sketch book and comic sketches.

“Gerard what the hell is that?” You asked, your eyes fixated on his now open sketchbook at both of your feet. You picked it up taking a closer look at it, it was multiple drawings of you in multiple different angles. “You’re just, easy to draw- im around you all the time..give it back!” He stumbled over his words before trying to grab the book out of your hands to which you successfully dodged. “No fucking way.” You were frankly disgusted at the next page, it was full of drawings of you, in sex positions, your face twisted in pleasure. “What the hell Gerard? What are you in love with me or something?” You inquired, shoving the book back towards his chest. You were hoping this was all just a joke that he would laugh in your face, but instead he stayed quiet and looked down at the drawings. “Dude! I only hang out with you because i feel sorry for you! I would never ever be with someone like you!” You pushed him, his back hitting the desk “But you-“ he tried to speak but you cut him off.

“No! no, you’re s’ fuckin..weird!” It didn’t take long for you to get dizzy, start slurring your words. You thought back to the coke he brought down to you before the movie started, he must’ve slipped something in it before giving it to you. Before you completely blacked out you saw Gerard smile before making sure you didnt hit your head when you fell. While you were out it didn’t take Gerard long to tie you down, he had this planned from the start. He knew you would never like him never mind love him the way he loved you, but that was okay he just had to make you. He just had to make you understand, even if that meant drugging you and fucking you so stupid you had no choice but to love him. He made sure that you wouldnt’t be out for too long but just long enough to get your shirt off and tied down to his bed.

You woke up to the feeling of Gerards lips on yours, your eyes widened as the memories from before you blacked out came back and you let out a muffled noise. Gerard pulled away from you, looking down at you with a lovesick stare. “Gerard? what the fuck are you doing?” You asked, your voice raspy from having just become conscious again. You tried to move your wrists only for you to find them stuck, same with your legs. “Wh- what- why am i tied up?” You squirmed under Gerard only for you to find out your shirt had been taken off and Gerards hard on was pressing against your stomach as he straddled your hips. His clothes were still on though he just took your shirt off so he wouldn’t have to deal with it later, he never took his eyes off of your face even as you started trying to get out of the bindings.

“Stop trying to get out, you don’t think that im that stupid do you? That i would just let you leave?” He took your face in his hand, squeezing your face so hard your teeth were pressed up against your inner cheeks painfully. Your eyes watered a little from the pain before he let go of you, pushing your head to the side. You squeezed your eyes shut before opening them speaking again, “fuck, let me go Gerard, i-“ you were cut off as Gerard hand made contact with your cheek, maybe a little too hard because looked at him shocked at the taste of blood filled your mouth. “Shh…shut up.” Gerard leaned down to whisper against your lips. “just shut up, you talk too fucking much.” You let out a cry as he leaned down to kiss you again, when he noticed you weren’t kissing him back he brought his hand that wasnt holding himself up to pinch your nose until you had no choice but to give in.

When he finally leaned out of the kiss and you could breathe properly he took you being distracted as his chance to get your pants down. “No! No- stop, stop please!” You pleaded once you gathered what he was doing, tears freely falling at this point. You tried to move your legs to deter his movements however it did nothing in the end as your pants ended up around your ankles as well as your boxers. “What..what are you gonna do?” You breathed out, barely able to get through your sentence. Gerard just ignored you moving his hips up closer to your mouth, you finally got the hint when he went to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans before pulling his cock out. You went to shake your head in disagreement but Gerard made sure to grab your face and squeeze your cheeks so you had no choice but to open your mouth. “Y’ gonna suck me off okay?” He asked, obviously not giving you an option.

You had no choice but to nod in agreement, fearing the worst if you said no. Maybe he would make you bleed even worse, or drug you again just to use your body while you were unable to move and forced to just watch. You took his cock in your mouth, the taste of him mixed with the blood from your busted lip. “C’mon you can do better than that.” He spoke, not giving you a chance to prove you could do better before shoving the rest of his cock down your throat causing you to gag. “See? Isn’t that so much better?” He teased, now using your head to face fuck you as you struggled to breathe. He wasn’t completely cruel, pulling out of your mouth to let you breathe for a moment before fucking your mouth again. Your tears were starting to mix with your saliva as well as your blood, Gerard just smiled down at you as moans left him.

Soon he got bored of your mouth and you could finally breathe properly as he left your mouth and moved further down your body. “Im gonna untie your legs, if you so much as think about trying to kick me i will fucking kill you.” He glared at you from the end of the bed, you only nodded, unable to speak from the crying and face fucking from before. You didn’t wanna try to test him, you were the one who was tied to his bed and face fucked anyways. It didn’t take long for him to undo the ropes, rubbing your ankles as he got them off. He slid your pants and boxers all the way off after getting you free,leaning down to press his lips to your thighs. You were scared to move your legs, not wanting to piss Gerard off you kept still until he moved your legs himself. He made his way up the bed pushing your legs up by your thighs, your knees by your shoulders as you clenched your hands into fists.

“So pretty when you shut up and let me do what i want.” Gerard kissed your thighs “y’gonna get all hard for me yea?” He reached around to fist your cock, you whimpered and squirmed in Gerards hold before he used the forearm of his other arm and his chest to hold you down. He laughed under his breath as he felt you get hard in his hand and watched you turn into a mess under him his chest pressed against the back of your legs as he jerked you off. He let go of your cock causing you to whimper, shoving the middle fingers of the hand he was using to jerk you off into your mouth to lube them up. He didn’t have to tell you to suck for you to get the message, however it didnt last long as he took them out to stretch you out to get you ready for him. A sob ripped from your throat as he started at a fast pace, his fingers hitting everywhere they needed to make you feel good.

“Fuck!” You cursed, pushing your head back against the mattress, Gerard hummed in a teasing manner and smiled at you, “You’re a fucking freak, getting off on me raping you.” He removes his fingers deciding that you’ve been stretched out enough, at least enough for him to slide in without too much pain. You try to catch your breath before Gerard shoves his cock into you in one thrust causing you to cry out ,Gerard wipes your tears with his thumb before shoving it in your mouth successfully muffling you, the salty taste of tears mixing with the iron taste of your blood. All that can be heard in the basement are your muffled cries, Gerards moans and the sound of your bodies together. “You’re gonna be my boyfriend? You’re gonna come over every day and im gonna fuck you till you’re stupid and you have no other choice but to love me.” He tells you before taking his thumb out of your mouth so you can respond. You only manage to get a weak, “m’ your boyfriend.” Out before he speeds up his pace,

“cmon you can be louder.” He smiles at you before his face contorts into pleasure. “M’ your boyfriend! Just yours!” You manage to speak up, your throat not having recovered from the sobbing from before. “Mm, i love you, tell me you love me.” He took your face in his hand when you hesitated to answer and squeezed “love- love you! I love you, please-.” You cried when he plugged your nose again, even if you could still breathe out of your mouth you immediately went into panic mode from before. He let go of your nose and face before pulling you into a kiss. “M’ gonna cum, y’ gotta cum with me okay?” He huffed out before moving his hand to your cock once more. “‘Kay- okay!” You sobbed at the stimulation of his cock and his hand. It didnt take long for both of you to cum, him finishing inside of you and you finishing on your stomach and chest with a cry of relief.

Both you and Gerard caught your breath before Gerard moved to untie your hands. You were too tired to fight him off, opting to just bring them down to your sides. Gerard helped you up before picking you up to bring you to the bathroom connected to the basement. Running the bath he set you on the floor until it filled enough to get in with you, when it did he sat down behind you letting you lay on his chest. It didnt take long for tears to run down your face again as Gerard stroked your hair and pressed a kiss to your head. “So pretty…my boyfriend.”

[doublydaring]

can u say more about the monkee killjoys because i am so intrigued.... i love killjoy-ifying my faves and the drawings of yours that ive seen are so intriguinggg

hiiii I am working on making more art of them but it is going to take too long so and I am too excited to not respond so here goes.

davy is called Raggedy Andy and he is a droid. i AM born sexy yesterdaying him. He was built in some sort of bli facility and never made it to battery city. he has never been activated when the boys find him, hes some sort of song and dance droid, i have him in his little violin playing outfit from head. the boys discovering his pod can be seen in my little comic. they have to teach him how to be a person. hilarity ensues.

micky is called Shorty Blackwell. he is a zone rat if there has ever been one. idk the timeline of killjoys anymore sorry gerard but if its plausible his parents were zone rats too, they were! he is happy-go-lucky, carries a blaster but very rarely uses it, that being said, is pretty desensitized to shooting dracs, doesn't really seem to comprehend hes killing people because of how he was raised. knows his ways around the zones and is really into astronomy and geology, pockets FULL of rocks.

mike is Carlisle Wheeling. hes sort of a classic dark gunslinger type but god guilty guilty guilty about everything. he doesn't say that though. of course. anyway. he was born in battery city and loves to moralize about it. hes always like, you know you guys should be grateful cuz back in battery city and theyre all like groan mikeeee we just want to eat our freaking beans without a lesson okay?????? he is sooooo fucking DRAMATIC. wears a leather duster in the desert and complains about it being hot.

lastly my beautiful wife peter - moniker, Free Love, but they call him love because that is very cute. heart. will not carry a blaster. uh huh. absolute doozy of a right hook though. <- guilty about that too. talks a big game about pacifism but gets really overwhelmed easily and starts lashing out. then he feels bad -> the cycle continues. he doesn't talk about where he's from which could mean nothing. always wearing as few clothes a possible, much to mikes chagrin. serial pontificater. always got a tab of whack ass zone acid if you need one.

[oldmemoria]

caught up with cringetober because I literally forgot to do it, individuals and explanations under cut

Day 1: Heterochromia I’ve come to the revaluation that my sona is already cringe as hell considering not only can his entire body change color but he also has differently colored eyes as a staple of his design. They’re usually yellow and blue but this time I color picked the blue from the trans flag and the mint from the Vincian flag for this color palette, it turned out really pretty :)

Day 2: Self Insert Now she isn’t my self insert anymore, but back in the day when I was at “peak cringe” she definitely was. This is my warriors OC Icypelt and I have a post going over part of her story on my profile somewhere. She’s been through a lot and I think her modern design is very pretty :)

Day 3: Unnecessarily complex fit/design Spider scene is kinda infamous in my brain for having wayyy too much detail but I love them and I think this might be my favorite one out of this batch, super cute, the pose is really cute and the colors are nice and fits her really well :D

day 4: Angel x Devil inevitable MCR reference ik, Helena and Revenge, love them dearly. Poor revenge man this one is cute and looks like a sticker!!

Day 6 (I skipped day 5 because I didn’t want to open up ms paint today): neko i kinda hate this one but cat Gerard yay

Day 7: Pinterest base at first I wanted to draw hobie in place of Gwen but I remembered that I haven’t really drawn Mikey with her even though they’re supposed to be friends so I drew her instead. Idk. The height difference is not accurate because of that but Jumping Spider is small because he’s based on a jumping spider and those are tiny who would have thought

Day 8: tumblr sexyman i have never played undertale a day in my life i just know a lot of people wanted to jump sans’ bones

day 9: Crossover ship/rarepair OH BOY THIS ONE GOES KIND OF HARD AND IM EMBARRASSED ABOUT IT BECAUSE THEY KIND OF WORK FOR EACH OTHER UM MIGUEL OHARA X CLOTTED CREAM COOKIE IM INSANE OMG-

day 10: fursona i already have a fursona I already drew and yes I colorpicked from the lesbian flag how could you tell /j

Day 11: Yandere LYLA is technically canonically a yandere because spoiler alert she tried to kill Miguel’s fiancé via overheating her in the shower (essentially literally boiling her like a lobster) because she was “in love” with him (she said if she did have autonomy and had feelings the would be in love with him but she doesn’t but idk who knows I don’t).

day 12: niche interest ik MCR isn’t exactly “niche” but the black parades story in particular has always caught my interest and I have my own interpretation of it and a whole kind of story I’m still developing and character arcs and headcanons and interactions and yeah you get it, death in particular has evolved into god knows an OC on his own I just keep him attached to MCR because… it makes more sense that way, ig-

day 13: creepypasta does this count- whatever grimdark is just the same thing as a creepypasta- I’m not really in the MLP fandom anymore but it was my first ever “fandom” I was actually apart of. My first hyperfixation if you will. I wasn’t in the grimdark part of the fandom because I was too young for it but I was actually watching the izzzyzzz grimdark video and I was like “oh” and drew a rainbow factory Rainbowdash. Honestly I should draw ponies more they’re fun to draw

Day 14: candygore (?) im not good at drawing candygore and since I was rushing this o didn’t do it as well as I thought I can, but it still turned out pretty cool

Day 15: song lyrics aaaa inevitable hesitant alien drawing this one turned out so cute!! The colors and the sparkle eek so cute aaa action cat lyrics I’m breaking down right in front of you I’m sorry

planning on doing the rest of the month now, maybe not exactly on time since I’m still in school but I’ll try to get 31 drawings out by Halloween. Love the idea of cringetober because I just love all things cringe. Ack this is so good

[chaoticwholesome]

8, 10, 15 for the book asks?

8. First book i remember reading myself

The Cat in the Hat!!!! First one i read aloud without any help ✨️ First book I remember reading without speaking though was a little pink hardcover about Journalist Barbie

10. Do i have a guilty fave?

Oooh hard to say, since I try not to feel guilty about anything I enjoy.... but i might actually say Carry On? I'm still super attached to it bc it's the first Gay Book i've ever owned in print, I loved it when it came out and I even reread it at the start of the pandemic, BUT i don't find I really connect with that author's other writing anymore, and I was disappointed with the sequel despite it being an insta-buy - haven't even bothered with the 3rd book. But despite all that and despite the fact that the 1st book hinges on cultural knowledge of h*rry p*tter, I still consider Carry On one of my comfort reads.

15. Recommend and review a book

Ooooh okay so the most recent book I read was the comic Proctor Valley Road! It's one volume, collecting all 5 issues, and it's created by what I consider an absolute DREAM TEAM - Grant Morisson, whose previous writing credits include Doom Patrol (1988); Naomi Franquiz, an expressive cartoony artist whose work I've seen previously in Boom Studios' Misfit City and also the Hayley Kyoko comic; and colourist Tamra Bonvillain, a prolific colourist whose work i previously know from Gerard Way's Doom Patrol (2016)! It's also cowritten by screenwriter Alex Child.

Proctor Valley Road follows 4 teenage girls in the 1970's attempting to scam their way into getting money for Janis Joplin tickets. But when 3 boys from their class go missing after the girls took them on a "spook tour" of the extremely haunted road outside their town, it's up to August, Rylee, Jennie and Cora to find and save them - before the town falsely accuses them of murder. Also so they can try swing that 15 bucks.

The characters are so well written, and even when they're butting heads, they actually feel like real friends? The series really takes time to develop each character's personality and day-to-day life, while still being really tightly written in its horror-fantasy-mystery narrative. I was really invested in them! Franquiz also brings such a human element with her illustrative artstyle and organic linework, I always love the way she draws!! And Tamra Bonvillain is always killing it with her very warm and tastefully bright colour palettes!

It was actually recommended to me by my friend Sammie, who was EXTREMELY on the money that I'd enjoy it, I love the Weird Teenage Girls Go On Adventures genre lol! And it's exactly at my level of comfort/tolerance for horror, leaning more towards Fantasy Horror. It's so fun!

[robinrunsfiction]

It’s A Love Story - Part 2

Part 1

When Saturday arrived, (YN) had been so excited for her and Mikey’s birthday party, but the noise had been going on for what felt like ages and she needed a break. It wasn't like many people were talking to her, apparently Gerard's threats were even more intimidating with him in the corner keeping an eye on everything as their mom left him to chaperone while she stayed up in her bedroom, away from the teenagers. 

(YN) slipped away to her room, flopping back onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling when she heard a knock on the door frame. She sat up with a start and found Frank looking amused in the doorway.

"Avoiding your own party?" He asked.

"And I'll cry if I want to, or however the song goes. I dunno how Mikey got all of the outgoing genes in like the entire family. It's not really fair."

Frank laughed and nodded. "You and Gee do have that in common."

(YN) nodded. "You can come in ya know."

"I dunno what rules your mom has about boys in your bedroom," he said, padding across the floor to sit next to her.

"Oh you know you only got Gee and Mikey to be scared of," she replied, shaking her head. "What brings you up here anyway?"

"I got you a present," he said.

"Really?" (YN)'s eyes lit up and a grin formed on her face.

"Yea, umm, here," he said, pulling a small box out of his jacket pocket.

(YN) stared at it for a moment before carefully unwrapping it. Inside was a necklace with a blue sapphire charm. "Oh wow," she whispered.

"The lady at the store said it was your birthstone, but I didn't know if you'd like it," he trailed off with a shrug.

"I love it, it's so pretty!" She said, throwing her arms around him in a hug. "Thanks Frank."

"Of course, happy birthday (YN)," he replied, returning the hug.

"I'm gonna guess you didn't get Mikey the same thing?" (YN) laughed as she put the necklace on. 

Frank laughed. "Nah, I got him a CD," Frank replied before pausing, seemingly lost in thought. "It's kinda shitty how him and Gee scared off all the guys from you."

(YN) sighed. "I just wish they would have asked me how I felt about it first. But," she paused, drawing up every ounce of courage she could find, "as long as the guy I like keeps talking to me, it's fine."

Frank nodded before his eyes went wide and (YN) couldn’t help but laugh a little at the realization that had clearly just hit him. 

"And I seem to be the only guy that's ever talking to you."

"So that would mean," she trailed off, her cheeks burning.

"For real?"

"Yea, sorry," she replied, wrinkling her nose.

"No, no that's not what I meant. I mean, I like you too, (YN)."

She was surprised, but couldn’t help but grin. "It's dangerous to have a crush on me, ya know."

"I like to live dangerously," he smirked, and (YN) had to keep from melting on the spot as the air hung thick between them. 

"So what do we do now?" She asked softly.

“Well, I really wanna kiss you," he said, sliding closer to her, his hand on top of hers.

“Gee and Mikey will kill you,” she whispered as they started to lean in together.

“Then I’ll die happy," he whispered back.

“See you at your funeral,” she replied as Frank reached up and touched her cheek gently before closing the distance between them. Their lips met and (YN) had to try not to sigh, it was everything she had hoped it would be. 

When they pulled back, Frank was smiling like she'd never seen before. "Was that good?" She asked.

Frank furrowed his brow in confusion. "Yea, it was really good. Wait, was that your first kiss?"

(YN) nodded and bit her lip, her cheeks going pink again. "Yea."

A smile spread across Frank's face. "You wanted me to be your first kiss?"

"Duh," she laughed lightly. "Is that weird?"

"No, it's," Frank looked like he was trying to find the words to describe what he was feeling. "Fucking awesome," he finally replied.

(YN) smiled and shook her head, before looking down at the necklace she was now wearing. "Thanks for making this a really memorable birthday."

"You deserve it," he nodded. 

"We should probably go back downstairs before someone comes looking for us, or starts to suspect something."

"Yea," Frank agreed. "We'll talk soon about… us?"

"Sounds like a plan," (YN) nodded.

Frank leaned in, giving her another quick kiss before getting up and leaving her room.

(YN) sighed and flopped back on her bed again before letting out a squeal of utter glee.

~

The following week of school felt like the longest of (YN)'s life, all she wanted was for it to be Friday night. She and Frank had decided they were going to skip the weekly movie night with her brothers and Ray, and instead have their first date. When Friday evening finally arrived, (YN) couldn't get out of the house quick enough. 

"(YN) are you still in for movie night?" She heard Mikey ask behind her. She froze, wincing, hand inches from the doorknob.

"Oh, no sorry," she replied, turning to face her brother. "I'm going to Marie's, she's having some boy problems and wanted someone to talk to."

"Oh," Mikey shrugged.

"What's going on?" Gerard asked, walking into the living room.

"Guess it's just us and Ray tonight," Mikey explained.

"Where are you going?" Gerard asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Marie's. No Frank?" She asked, trying to remain inconspicuous.

"He said he's not feeling good, stomach thing," Gerard explained.

(YN) nodded. "That sucks... Well, I'll see ya later," she said before hurrying out the door, afraid they'd somehow see through her lies.

The walk to Frank's house was quick, she'd made it countless times before, but never before in this context, which added an extra spring to her step. By the time she arrived at the door, her heart was pounding.

"Hey," he said, immediately pulling her into a hug when she walked in. "I ordered a pizza a little bit ago, is that cool?"

"Yea, of course," she nodded before kicking off her shoes and dropping her purse by the door. "Umm, so did you tell your mom that we're," she trailed off.

"She's not home yet, but yea, just so she knows not to bring it up around the guys for some reason,” he said, leading the way into the kitchen. 

“That’s good,” she nodded, taking the soda that he offered to her.

An awkward silence hung between them as they stood in the kitchen. They normally would have been bantering easily, but there was now so much to talk about that neither seemed to know where to begin.

“So, umm-” Frank started, but before he could get any more words out, the doorbell rang. “Oh, hang on.”

(YN) nodded and made her way to the living room, plopping down on the couch.

"Thanks man, see ya Monday," she heard Frank say before walking into the living room with the pizza.

"Who was that?"

"Tucker. I didn't know he got a job delivering pizzas."

"Me neither, but no one tells me anything anymore," she laughed.

Frank laughed as he sat the pizza down on the coffee table in front of them. “What do you wanna watch?”

“Whatever you want,” (YN) shrugged as she picked up a slice of pizza.

Frank hummed as he perused his movie collection. “Got it,” he nodded, pulling one off the shelf, and putting it on. He settled onto the couch next to (YN) as he started the movie. After they both had their fill of pizza, Frank put his arm over her shoulder. "Is this ok?"

"Yea," she smiled, sliding over so she was resting against his side.

They sat in silence as the movie continued to play, but (YN) was only halfway paying attention. She was too busy thinking about Frank's hand on her shoulder, thumb rubbing small circles into the material of her shirt. She had just turned her attention back to the movie when a jump scare made her yelp and bury her face against Frank’s shoulder.

She heard the sound of the movie stop and Frank wrapped both his arms around her. "Shit, sorry," he murmured, rubbing her back soothingly.

"It's ok," she replied, pulling back from him enough to look up at his face. He was definitely concerned, and it warmed her heart.

"Do you wanna watch something else?"

"No, no, it's ok, we can keep watching this," she insisted. “I was just startled.”

"Ok, he replied, pressing play again, but she stayed curled up against him and he kept both his arms wrapped around her, holding her tighter than before.

"There's another jump scare coming up," Frank said a few minutes later.

(YN) whined a little and turned to hide her face against Frank's shoulder again when he caught her chin and she looked up at him. He leaned in and kissed her while the suspenseful music blared from the TV. (YN) smiled into the kiss as she wrapped her arms over his shoulders and he pulled her closer. Tentatively he deepened the kiss, and she tried not to get too excited that she was finally, truly, getting to make out with Frank.

It wasn't until the end credits were playing that they came up for air.

"I really liked the movie," (YN) laughed.

"Me too," Frank grinned. "And I really like you."

"You'd mentioned something about that before," (YN) smiled coyly, but couldn't help but blush a little. “Umm, so can I ask something?” Frank nodded so she continued. “When did you realize that you liked me?”

Frank scrunched up his face for a moment as he thought. “I think it was kinda gradual. When we started the band and you started doing your own thing with your clothing designs, I thought that was so cool.”

“Really?”

Frank nodded. "I don't always know who or what you're talking about, but it's cool seeing you be so excited about it. But," and then winced a bit. “If I’m gonna be totally honest, umm,” he trailed off.

“What?” 

“Please don’t think I’m a scumbag like Adam, but umm, at the pool party, I mean,” he rubbed his hands over his face. “You’re hot!” He finally blurted out and (YN) began to laugh.

“I don’t think you’re a scumbag, because I know you’re not gonna try to take advantage of me or anything,” she replied.

“I never would, you mean too much to me to do anything that would make you feel bad," he replied sincerely.

(YN) smiled. “That’s why I like you, ya know.”

“Hmm?”

“You always make me feel better about myself, even when I'm struggling through math class or whatever. And because when Gee or Mikey are being obnoxious and picking on me, you would always take my side," she smiled. “Plus you’re really cute and I really like watching you play guitar because it’s so cool.”

It was Frank’s turn to grin. "So are you gonna start coming to watch our practices?"

"I dunno, I don't wanna just seem like a groupie,” she laughed. “Or worse, raise my brothers' suspicions. I don't want them to freak out and kick you out of the band or something," she said, starting to pick at her nails.

"Hey," he started, taking her hands as she looked up at him. "I know you do that when you’re nervous, but whenever you're ready to talk to them, I'll be there. Until then, we'll keep things between just you and me."

"The secrecy is kinda fun, forbidden romance and all that," she smiled.

"And when it's not secret, it will be even better, because then I'll be able to do this whenever I want," he said leaning in and kissing her.

(YN) got completely lost in the amazing sensation of kissing Frank until the front door opened. They jumped apart as Frank’s mom walked into the house. She peeked in the doorway to the living room with a smile. “Hi Frank, hi (YN), don’t mind me!”

They both greeted her, and (YN) checked the time. “Ugh, it’s getting late, I should probably get home,” she said, getting up.

“Do you want me to walk you back?" Frank asked, following her to the door.

"Probably shouldn't risk it. You're supposed to be sick, remember?"

"Oh yea," he replied, sounding a bit forlorn.

"I promise I’ll try to figure out how to tell them soon."

Frank nodded. "Like I said before, whenever you're ready, I'll be right there with you. You're my girl."

(YN) felt her heart flip and her knees go a little weak as she threw her arms around Frank and buried her face against his neck. He held her close until she pulled back, and gave him a quick kiss.

"Let me know when you get home safe," he said as she headed out the door.

She waved over her shoulder, feeling like she was practically floating

Part 3

[thewordworrier]

Born Bob Dylan - Part Thirteen

Story Main Page - see this for warnings, etc.

Word Count:  1,843 words.

- - - - - - - - - - “I feel a bit… Stupid, I guess, asking this,” she started quietly, resting her ear over his heart. If she concentrated, just a little bit, she could feel it thumping away under her face and she found that comforting and grounding. “You always used to tell us that the only stupid question was an unasked one,” he ran his hand over her hair, pulling the sheets up to cover her up more. “I’m not saying that the question is stupid, though maybe it is a little,” she lifted her head to nuzzle whatever she could reach. “I’m saying that I feel a bit dumb for asking it. I feel a bit like a teenager.” “Mm, I understand that feeling. You’ve always made me feel like a teenager again.” She looked up at him. “But you hated your teenage years.” “Not all of them,” he played with her hair. “You make me remember some of the good times, and you make me feel the way I think I was supposed to feel.” “Hmm,” she thought about this for a moment. “I think I can accept that.” “Okay then,” Gerard chuckled and hummed as she nuzzled against him. “Your question? What is it?” Shelly sighed and buried her face against his neck, mumbling a little about feeling ridiculous. She glanced back up when he tapped her shoulder gently in order to draw her attention back to him and the question she was supposed to be asking. “Oh. I, um. So… I guess that I wanted to ask, I wanted to be sure even, um…” She was blushing and she knew it, which was silly considering what they’d just said and done. “What… Where… Hmmm.” “If I know you,” he said quietly as he held her a bit tighter, “and I think that I do, then you’re wondering where we stand now. You’re wondering what we are now, maybe?” She nodded against him, snuggling up to him almost and relishing in the feeling of him holding her tighter. “The whole thing makes me feel like an insecure teenager and that’s stupid because… I am very much not a teenager anymore.” Gerard laughed, making her shift on his chest a little. “Neither am I. I’m a little older than you so I’m definitely, most certainly not a teenager anymore.” “No, not this again,” she groaned before feeling him laugh again. “I’m not doing anything. As for your question though,” he pressed a kiss to the top of her head and hummed. “What do you want?” Shelly sat up, moving off of him. She settled on her stomach next to him and raised an eyebrow.. “What kind of question is that?” “Well, I don’t know. Maybe now you’ve…” He paused and coughed ever so slightly as he caught sight of what that position did to her breasts, before he continued. “Sated your curiosity, you’re not interested anymore?” “Gerard!” He shifted into a sitting position which caused the sheets to fall to his waist, exposing his chest and the marks she’d left there. He ran his hand through his hair, a bit pink in the face. “I… Well…” The blonde carefully pushed herself up from lying on her stomach and shoved the sheets aside before she moved into his lap. She straddled him and cupped his face in her hands, pressing her lips against his. His hand dropped from his hair to her hip, snaking around her waist to hold her tightly as his free hand went to her jaw before sliding back to tangle his fingers in her hair. He smiled against her lips when he felt her relax against him. She melted, almost. “I have,” she said softly a minute or two later. “Wanted this, wanted you for most of my life. Do you really think one ‘roll in the hay’ is going to be enough for me?” Gerard’s eyebrows rose and she kissed his temple, which just made him smile. “Shelly, I think the American in you is showing, with that kinda phrasing.” “I don’t know,” she kissed from his temple to his jaw, and he could feel the smile on her lips before he heard it in her voice. “I could have some more American in me. If he wants to be.” Not that he had really forgotten, but having her press her torso against him like that, just reminded him that they were both still naked, and the gentle reminder made him blush. It didn’t stop him pulling her a little closer though. “He does,” Gerard said quietly and a little bashfully. “But he might need a minute.” Shelly giggled softly, nipping at his earlobe. “Oh, baby, I can wait. I’ll wait as long as I need to.” “So, two rolls in the hay?” He held her a bit tighter with one arm, the hand of the other trailing his fingertips up her back. “Mm, no, more than - oh!” She squeaked softly and squirmed as his touch tickled her spine. “More than that.” “How many more?” She rested her hands on his shoulders and studied his face, frowning a little as she did so. He watched her for a moment before his eyes decided that looking at her lips was a much better idea. Naturally, she noticed this and she gave in and kissed him gently, but not for long. “As many as you want,” she said quietly. “I want to stay around for as long as you’ll have me.” “Shelly,” he said gently. “I never wanted you to leave in the first place.” She sighed and buried her face in his neck. She was quiet for a little while, and he could’ve sworn that he felt moisture on his skin, but as soon as he thought about saying something about it, she spoke. “I…” She swallowed. “I really, really didn’t want to leave, either.” “You don’t have to now; I don’t want you to,” he wrapped both arms around her waist and pulled her against him as much as he could, if that was even possible at this point. “I’m not going to let you.” “I’m not going to, I don’t want to. I want to stay.” “Then stay,” he whispered. “Stay with me. Be with me.” “Is that what you want?” Shelly asked, running her fingers through his hair. “Are you sure?” “Yeah.  I love you. I’ve missed you, of course that’s what I want. I just want you, in whichever way you’ll have me.” He closed his eyes and hummed, leaning into her touch. “Providing that’s what you want too.” “I do,” she said quietly. “I do want that; I do want you. That is what I want. It’s what I’ve always wanted.” “Okay,” he kissed her gently. “Good. I’m yours then.” Shelly giggled softly for a moment before her tone turned serious. “And I’m yours. But I’ve always been yours. I just never wanted to admit it.” She paused and frowned at herself. “No, that’s not true. I wanted to admit it, I just never felt like I could. Never felt like I was allowed to.” Gerard’s expression softened even further and he squeezed her. He thought about it and he hummed. “Only mine? Like, I don’t have to share? I mean, I know you like - ” Shelly pressed her lips against his hard. “Just yours. Doesn’t matter how many genders or whatever I’m attracted to, I’m loyal.” Her tone hardened, just a touch. “I don’t cheat.” “Yeah,” his fingers were in her hair again. “Yeah, of course you don’t. I know, I’m sorry, I didn't mean to insinuate - ” She kissed him to hush him and when she pulled away he smiled and continued quietly. “Yeah, you always have been to us as a band.” He paused as smiled as she leant to his touch as he petted her hair. “You are a Leo after all. The picture of loyalty. You always have been.” She beamed with pride and blushed, ducking her head shyly before she spoke. “And I… I don’t have to share you?” “Absolutely not,” he shook his head. “I don’t want to be shared, and I know that you’re not that great with sharing anyway.” Shelly blushed hotly and whined. “Don’t call me out like that.” Gerard laughed and held her tightly, burying his face into the crook of her neck. Shelly leant her cheek against his head and hummed to him. They stayed like that for a little while. He knew she was still awake because of her humming and her fingers in his hair. She knew he was still awake because he was drawing shapes on her skin with his fingertips. “God,” he said suddenly, almost making her jump. “I feel like I have so much time to make up for, and not enough time to do it in.” “Hey, hey hey,” she removed herself from his lap and settled next to him, seeking out one of his hands to hold as she cupped his cheek with her other hand. “Stop that right now. None of that. Absolutely none of that.” He nodded against her hand, squeezing the other one. He sounded a little nervous when he spoke. “Okay. Are you sure?” “I’m sure,” she nodded. “Better late than never, you know? And I’ll take whatever time I can get with you.” “I’ll make sure that the time we have is the best,” he pulled her closer to kiss her again. “I’ll try and keep up with you. I’ll try and make it all worth it.” Shelly almost melted into him upon hearing his words and she kissed him back with as much love and affection as she’d been hiding for the last… However many years. She tried to kiss him with as much feeling for all the times she’d wanted to kiss him for the last… However long.  Although a part of her knew that she’d never really truely be able to verbally express how she felt and have it feel… Enough. And have it feel right. “Gerard,” she whispered. “Of course you can keep up with me. You’ve always been able to.” “I... Oh. You think so?” “I know so. If anything, it was me who couldn’t keep up with you.” He snorted. “Nonsense. You always had way too much energy.” “Physically, maybe, but I could never keep up with your brilliant mind,” she took one of his hands and placed it over the tattoo on her ribs. “Because only a brilliant mind could come up with words like this.” “I still want to make it worthwhile for you though,” he leant his forehead against hers and smiled when she kissed it before resuming the same position. “I don’t want you to feel like you’ve waited all of this time, just for it to…” He searched for the right words. “I don’t want you to regret this.” She sighed softly. “I could never regret anything involving you.” “Except not telling me sooner,” he whispered. “And I regret that too. But I still want it to be worth it.” “Oh Gee. It’s already worth it.”

[super-unpredictable98]

Sticks and Stones

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy Pairing: Klaus x Vicky (OC - The Eighth Child’ verse) Word Count: around 1,3k Warning: Strong language, mention of drugs

(Masterlist)

When I heard that Vanya would be releasing a book about the Umbrella Academy I felt truly happy for her. I thought it was gonna be something fun about our adventures as super-heroes or our completely insane family dynamic...  

I know this whole experience left us all damaged in some way, but I like to think there were some positives. Let me tell you, I was not expecting the nuclear bomb that this book was. After it was all said and done, I ended up liking most of it, but when it first came out, my reaction wasn't so great.

"So are we going tonight, Schnucki?" Klaus asked me when I came home from school.

He was laying upside down on the couch, wearing only his underwear. His black painted toenails made a beautiful contrast against the pink wall.

"Of course, I would never miss it," I smiled.

"Oh, I hope they have food... And booze, lots of it."

"Do you think the others are going?"

"I don't know, I wouldn't bet on it. Allison isn't even in the country I think, and I'm 97% sure Diego is in jail."

"Oh, bummer..."

"If it makes you feel better, Ben will be there," he joked.

Later that night I put on a green sequin cocktail dress with long sleeves and Klaus put on a pair of black trousers and a matching see-through blouse with frills around the neckline and wrists.

"We're gonna be late," I chuckled.

"Can't rush perfection, darling," Klaus was in front of the mirror putting eyeliner on.

When we eventually made it out of the house and got to the event, it had already started. A huge line formed in front of a desk where Vanya was signing books.

"Oh, this is fancy," Klaus sang in a high pitch.

"Extra Ordinary... My Life as Number Seven," I grabbed a copy of the book.

On the cover there was a picture of Vanya, she must've been 12 or 13 when it  was taken. Underneath the picture, there were seven dark outlines, simplified drawing of the rest of us: the one with majestic curly hair must be Allison, the tallest one was for sure Luther, the shortest should be Five, the one with the tentacles was Ben, the one with a knife was Diego and last but not least, a slender one representing Klaus with his arm around me, with my characteristic ponytail.

On the back, there was a brief introduction for those who didn't know who Vanya was and a more recent picture of her. I hadn't seen her in quite a while and I couldn't stop smiling looking at how beautiful she was.

"Prefix by Gerard Way? Wow, Vanny..." I bit my lip with excitement.

"Look, there's a bar, let's go, let's go," Klaus pulled me like a kid pulls his mom towards Toys R' Us.

"Careful there, gonna rip my arm out!"

"I'll have an old fashioned, she'll have a cosmopolitan," Klaus ordered for me, something I thought was kinda charming. "Please."

"Sorry, but you're Klaus and Victoria, right?" a young lady, about our age approached us.

"Ever since we were born" I laughed.

"Actually not really, when we were born we probably had different names, or no names at all until mom decided to..." Klaus mused, but was promptly cut off.

"I can't believe you're here! Can I maybe take a picture with you guys?" she pointed her phone at us.

"Um... Sure," Klaus agreed, flashing his palm tattoos for the camera with a dashing smile.

None of us was used to that attention anymore, but I guess we forgot the event would be full of Umbrella Academy fans, people who are really interested in our story.

There was a small commotion when people noticed the girl taking a picture. We took a few more and gave out some autographs while we waited for the line to get smaller. Honestly, it felt kinda good to have people notice us again.

Klaus got at least six or seven phone numbers that night, I just watched as girls, guys and everyone in between threw themselves at my brother. I was used to that, of course... He is so charming that is basically impossible not to feel attracted to him, but that little ache in my heart never went away.

"Are you ready to get Vanny's autograph?" Klaus locked arms with me as we stepped in line.

"Sure, Casanova..."

"Aw, you're jealous," he giggled. "Don't worry, Schatzi, we'll find you a hot guy for you to make me jealous with."

"Victoria? Klaus? I didn't expect to see you tonight," Vanya seemed surprised and alarmed instead of happy.

"We wouldn't miss it," I gave her our copy.

"Yeah, we're family," Klaus agreed.

"Well, thanks, it means a lot," she signed the book and gave it back to me. "You  two look nice. How's college, Victoria?"

"It's great, I'm really enjoying it. I finish next spring."

"Sounds great, and you, Klaus? Are you... Doing anything?"

"I'm partying, you know how great I am at it," he grinned widely.

"I see you haven't changed a bit," Vanya chuckled.

"We're getting dinner after this, wanna come?" I asked.

"Sorry, I wish I could, but I should probably go home, I have some stuff to do tomorrow morning."

"That's all right, see you around then?"

"Yeah, sure."

The next day I was eating some leftover pizza while reading the book when Klaus woke up. I couldn't believe Vanya had the nerve to write that down and publish it for everyone to see...

"What's wrong?" he sat by me, grabbing himself a slice.

"Listen to this... What can I say about my siblings Victoria and Klaus? They have always been like a couple of lovers, even as kids you could always find them in each other's rooms, taking baths together, or running around the house planning another one of their pranks. Digging into my memories, I remember one time, when we were no older than 10, and I accidentally walked in on them as they were about to kiss, certainly children's antics, but that urge never seemed to go away for the two of them."

"Did she really say that?" Klaus grimaced. "God, I remember that day... We were just playing."

"Yeah, look: their interactions were and still are borderline creepy, always holding hands, sitting on each other's laps, or staring deep into each other's eyes in a telepathic conversation none of us could understand. It's like they forgot how to breathe if they were apart, to this day they are still inseparable, currently sharing a studio next to Vicky's college campus."

"Wow, okay," Klaus rolled his eyes. "She makes it seem like we're freaks, we're just affectionate!"

"Victoria might be the biggest enabler for Klaus' drug addiction... WHAT?" I screamed.

"She didn't go there..." Klaus looked at me agape. "Are you fucking kidding?"

"No, it's all here!" I felt tears burning my eyes. "So she thinks it's my fault."

"Don't read this right now, give it to me," he took the book from my hands. "It's not true, you know this, right?"

"How could Vanya say something like this?" I buried my face in his chest.

"Don't listen to this bullshit, Schatzi. All you've ever done was help me, I'm only sober right now because of your support. How long has it been?"

"Two months and 16 days," I muttered.

"See? One day at a time, right?"

"Yeah, I'm so proud of you."

"I wouldn't be able to do it without your help, you hear me?" he kissed the top of my head. "I know what will make you feel better."

"What?" I looked up at him.

"So, I ended up calling a guy that gave me his number yesterday, turns out he has a straight twin, so we're going on a double date tonight."

"Excuse me? When were you gonna tell me that I have a date?"

"I was gonna tell you later when you wouldn't have time to find an excuse."

"Klaus!"

Tag List: @elliethesuperfruitlover @firstpersonnarrator @nightingale-rose

[four-rabbit]

The Last Piece Left

This was supposed to be fluff the first time I had this idea. But then I decided that it could be fluffy with angst in the end. But then I got to actually write it and it became angst with even more angst in the end, so... hope you enjoy

I apologize in advance for any mistakes

Summary: For the first time since he left the Others, Virgil reunites the courage to talk to an old friend, but neither of them seem to know how to feel about each other. Or how to not make things worse. 

Characters: Remus Sanders, Virgil Sanders

Warnings: swearing, mentions to death and dead bodies, angst (does that count as a warning?), fight, sex mention

Word Count: 2287

“I told them my name” Remus looked away from the canvas in front of him, just to see who he once called a friend standing in the middle of his room, with an expression as abstract as the paint Creativity was trying to finish. So many feelings in such a small space it became impossible to understand. 

“Ok? Good for you, I don’t give a fuck” replied, focusing his gazes on anything except Virgil’s eyes, doing his best to keep his emotions simple. We hate each other. He abandoned us. That should be enough. Virgil stayed in silence for what seemed like a lifetime. “What do you want, emo?”

“Thomas painted his hair” he started.

“Yeah, I noticed. Purple doesn’t really go well with green. Unless we’re talking about a wound. Or a dead body. Nevermind, purple and green are awesome together”

“Yeah, I really liked the hair, actually. I was thinking… I mean, you and Deceit have green and yellow. The core sides also have colors. I’m kinda tired of the black” 

“Are you? I think it matches you, boring, quickly establishes that you’re the villain, having been washed in at least some months”

“I just want you to teach me how to sew,” Virgil replied, already starting to lose his temper. Calm down, he said to himself,he may be hard to deal with, but you are here to help, not make things worse. 

“Roman knows how to sew, probably way better than me. Do you think I should add like, blood red or more like a wine red?” He pointed to the canvas, answering his own question before Virgil could do so “Yeah, blood red of course, the classic”

“I kinda wanted it to be a surprise. Also, I don’t think Princey’s style really matches mine” Remus wishes he was as honest to himself as he was with other people. He knew deep down it would hurt more to do that. He knew that getting a bite of what used to be their friendship would just make him more hungry for something that didn’t even exist anymore. He knew it would probably hurt both of them even more. But someone wanted his help for the first time in… well. Virgil wanted his help. 

“Ok, get out of my room” said, finally turning to Anxiety, who tried to pretend those words didn’t send a wave of disappointment though his body. 

“Of course... This was a mistake” mumbled, starting to sink out.

“No dude! Fuck, I mean, like, intrusive thoughts and anxiety is never a good mix, let’s go to your room or a neutral room” quickly explained. 

“Oh” Virgil came back, seeming surprised “I can take your room just fine, dude, I’m used to it”

“It got way worse since the last time you were here, trust me, Gerard Gay” Virgil looked around. The view did look messier, if it was possible. The floor felt like skin, but with something off. He could hear whispers in the back of his consciousness, to which he could never identify a source. The smell was less like trash can and more like a trash can on fire where a corpse had been discarded some days ago. But he could take all that. He could take hours in that room, the same way Remus could take hours in his room. 

“I don’t see how”

“As much as I would love to see Thomas hyperventilating because his anxiety can’t stop thinking about how people are going to invade his house and slowely murder him if he doesn’t check all the locks at least five times, I’m pretty sure you don’t want that headache. And it will be a hell of a headache as soon as the room reaches your mind”

“Fine, My room, then?”

“Yeah, I’m in need of some new spiderwebs anyway” 

Virgil’s room didn’t change much since The Duke was there for the last time, except for some new Disney posters, probably from Roman and a drawing on the desk right beside anxiety’s bed. It was terribly colorful and childish, with all the three core sides and Virgil. Patton, then. Of course it was Patton. Anxiety immediately took the gift out of Creativity’s sight. 

“I’m not gonna eat it or anything, y’know?”

“It’s personal”

“Of fucking course it is” He could see how Patton seemed better compared to Janus. But they didn’t need a stupid - and shitty, let’s be honest - card to prove how much they cared for, everything was just so fucking stupid and boring with the core sides, why would Virgil fucking chose to be with them?! What was wrong with him?! What did Remus do wrong?! “It’s really shitty, but I guess daddy has always been bad at everything he did”

“Could you keep it down? For at least thirty fucking minutes?” Virgil snapped, clenching his fists and looking at Remus with pure danger in his eyes. 

“Do you have a… “He looked around, wishing he could just stop fucking talking for at least one damn second “A sketch. For how you want your hoodie to be? 

“I do, actually” Virgil kept his eyes away from his old friend, the tension in the room so heavy it could be cut, grabbing one of the drawings on the same table Patton’s gift was and giving it to the duke. It was… a concept. Remus conjured a pen, turning the paper and using it’s other side to make a more clear image, giving it back to anxiety.

“How about this?” Virgil tried not to smile, but his eyes betrayed him by shining. It was perfect.

"It 's cool”

“Great” he then started to reunite all the materials. One of Virgil’s older hoodies, purple fabric, white and black threads and…

“Why a spinning wheel?” 

"It 's cooler” replied, shrugging. 

“If I touch the needle will I also sleep for one hundred years?”

“Who knows? Now sit your ass down, emo, this will take time”

“Ok, what do I do first?” said, sitting on his bed and waiting for instruction. Remus flinched until the realization struck him. 

“Wait, you actually want me to teach you? Buddy, I’m the worst teacher ever and you know that” And also I’m a selfish motherfucker who knows very well that if you never learn it every time you need to fix it you will have to ask for my help. 

“It can’t be that hard”

“If you actually want to do something decent, it will take at least some days. Do you want The Duke in your room for days? I wouldn’t mind it, we could even have some fun” He smiled maliciously. He was right. Virgil wouldn’t want any of the core sides to know he still talked to Remus. Especially not Roman. 

“Fine. How long will it take for you to do it?”

“One hour” He could do it in a couple seconds, actually, but sshhh. 

“Ok” Virgil looked down, seeming almost… embarrassed. Creativity grabbed all the materials, conjured a bench, sat down and started to work. He tried to stay in silence, but it was almost painful to do so

“How are the core sides doing? Anything interesting, if that’s possible?”

“Are you trying to do small talk?” Virgil almost smiled. The only one of the Others good with that was Deceit and they all knew that. 

“I’m trying to keep it down like you said to protect your now light side ears or whatever” Virgil chucked, rolling his eyes. 

“What was that painting about?”

“Oh… I was trying to do an abstract representation of the emotions decay and rottenness bring”

“Sounds like you. How was it going?”

“Like shit. Not literally, even though that’s a good idea, did you know that when we die our whole body, like, relax, including our stomach muscles and all? And yeah, we shit ourselves, so go to the bathroom before you die, I guess” Virgil flinched with that unwanted information.

“I feel like you told me that before”

“I probably did, it’s pretty basic. I don’t know what the fuck is happening, I haven’t being able to paint anything good”

“I thought it was pretty nice” For Remus’ standards. 

“Sure you did. But really, how are those dorks? Did someone already explained to Daddy what sex it or nobody had the courage yet?”

“That’s what you’re concerned about?”

“Of course!” 

“Nobody did, obviously, but I’m considering, I like Patton, but if he refers to adulthood as adultery one more time I’ll lose it” Remus snorted. 

“He does what?”

“Long story, dude”

“Holy fuck” He laughed “He’s definitely doing that on purpose”

“What would he win by doing that?” A couple of answers came to Remus’ mind but he was sure VIrgil would hate all of them. Still, he had to choose one, that how things work “Maybe he likes fucking with you guys”

“Not everybody finds it funny to manipulate the people around them like Deceit” Oh, here we go again. 

“Patton and Janus are not that different”

“Name one thing they have in common” fortunately for Remus, the first answer that came to his mind was not that bad. 

“Well, if you’re right, they both don’t know where babies come from” Virgil seemed divided between keeping arguing and smiling. He went with the second option. You can do it, Virge. You can not screw everything. 

“I guess so. But Patton is definitely better with hugs” 

“Which one of the light sides would you fuck if you had to chose?”

“Where did that come from?!” Remus shrugged.

“Just curious”. 

“I won’t fucking answer that!” exclaimed, his face starting to get red.

“For me it would be Logan. Or maybe you. Do you count as a Light side already?” Anyway, Logan must be amazing. It’s almost like fucking a teacher and I always wanted to know how it feels like” Virgil was about to order him to shut up, but he knew Remus enough to know it would only make things worse, so he went with a more effective technique.  

“How is Deceit doing?” Remus raised his eyebrows, the question surprising enough to stop his line of thought. 

“Fine? Why do you care?”

“I mean… are you guys good?” 

“As always”

“Haven’t he been… hurting you or anything like that?”

“Janus never hurted me, dude, what the fuck?”

“Except that he did. Except that he does it everyday. You just don’t want to admit it” Remus looked into his eyes, frowning.

“Emo, what is this all about?” 

“What do you mean?” Based on how he focused his gaze on the floor, Remus raised his eyebrows even more. 

“This is not just about the fucking hoodie, is it?” Virgil stayed in a seeming never ending silence.

“They accepted me, Remus.You guys said it was impossible for the core sides to accept us, but here I am. They could accept you too” Oh, so that’s what this is about. Remus went to one of his rare silences, which were always scarier than his loudest noises. 

“We already talked about this, emo”

“But that was before! When we thought they all hated us! But they don’t! Logan is welcoming and Roman is trying and Patton… Patton is willing to receive us with his arms open”

“No, he’s fucking not. Patton hates me so fucking much I’m pretty sure he would get rid of me the second he had the fucking chance and would still convince himself it was the right thing to do” He got up without realizing, putting all his efforts into not crying like a pathetic child. 

“I think you’re mistaken him for Deceit” Virgil also got on his feet.

“Janus, his name is fucking Janus, why can’t you just call him for his fucking name?! He yelled. 

“He’s a liar, Remus! He doesn’t care about you or any of us! He just wants to… Follow his plans or whatever”

“Oh, do you think Patton cares about you?!”

“Actually yes, I know he fucking does”

“Well, yeah, maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t, but if I get there? Not only will he get scared and kick me out, he will also be angry at you for bringing the freak here into his perfect little world of sunshine and rainbows, so thank you so much, but Janus at least was there for me when I needed it, unlike those dicks or you!” Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. 

“I should have known this was a mistake” Virgil said, letting his shoulders drop with the height of defeat. 

“Yeah it was. Here is your fucking hoodie” He finished it with a snap of his fingers at threw it at Virgil, sinking out right after. “Have fun with your new friends, Virgil” 

Slowly, anxiety grabbed his new costume. It was amazing, Comfortable, spooky, creative. And it was so… detailed and clearly done carefully, It was… He started crying.Ugly crying, with the tears scratching his throat to came with violent sobs, their warm burning as they fell down his face, wetting his own clothes and the new one in his hands, the pain in his chest seeming like a monster was tearing apart his whole soul, trying to destroy his heart, it hurted more than anything that he ever felt. 

He knew, deep down, it was impossible to have a real famILY like that. But he also knew he was a hypocrite and it was easier to pretend things were simpler. It was easier to pretend he didn’t need Remus. Or Janus, by that extent. It was easier to pretend they weren’t family. But not easy enough for him to not hold on to all there was left from what they once called a friendship.

 He held the hoodie tighter.

[queerebrum]

Alright you two, lets see what my poor sore hand can make for you this evening. I’m fresh off a good cry and ready to go. @clotpolesonly @jacyevans --

In the wake of Scott’s victory against the Anuk-Ite, Chris struggles. He struggles, far from he first time in his life, to decide what to do next, where to go, who to be. He is the last Argent. His body – fragile and human – holds all that is left of a centuries old hunting family. He doesn’t want it anymore. He walked away from the room with a satisfied smile on his face that he couldn’t quite manage anymore. He’d known what he was doing. He knew that leaving that room, leaving Gerard to face the wrath of the monster he’d created. He'd known what he was doing, leaving Kate behind in the room, knew that once she was done her skin would grey and her eyes would fog and she would be gone.  And then he would be left. Alone in the world save for a pack of teenagers he loves more than he could ever have imagined, various associated adults, and the hole in his heart torn by the nogitsune’s sword. 

Allison was supposed to be his legacy. She was supposed to guide the Argent family into the future. But, like his mother, and his wife, and his father and his sister, she too was struck down by the world and he is alone, left to bear the weight – glee and guilt alike – of the Argent name.

And in Beacon Hills, that burden is too heavy for him to bear alone. There are ghosts in this town that he cannot run from, memories that stain him red; the blood of his wife, the blood of his daughter. 

He needs to leave. Melissa understands. There is a part of what they have together that is laced through with the sound of cracking whips and flashes of ghostly green. There is a part of their relationship that will always be tainted with the thrill of fear against their skin, with the knowledge that they may not survive the coming day. They will never be able to extract that from what happened between them. Melissa kisses him before he goes, and they both know it’s goodbye. Chris might return, but what they have will not.  He packs up his apartment, sends things to storage, some to donation, some to the place in France where he know Isaac is, and throws the rest in a dumpster. He’s checking his weapons stores in the back of his SUV – he may not intend to hunt, but he can never be too careful – when the hair on the back of his neck prickles and his hand reaches for his gun. A familiar chuckle causes the tension to bleed out of Chris as he turns, his hand falling to his side as he takes in the sight of Derek Hale, hazel eyes shining gold in the bright light of day, hair dark, chin and cheeks covered in a layer of stubble. Chris never met him before the Fire, before Chris’s sister irreparably destroyed his life. His first memories of Derek are from only a few years ago, and yet he looks nothing like the angry young man in Chris’s memory. He’s grown up, he’s changed. Chris knows that he has too.  “Where are you going?” Derek asks, his hands tucked in the pockets of a leather jacket. It’s too warm, late spring on the cusp of summer, for him to be wearing it, but it seems right somehow.  Chris stills, drawing in a breath,  hoping that somewhere between the inhale and the exhale, he’ll have a better answer than the one he finally says; “I don’t know.” 

Derek nods slowly, considers something, and then cocks his head slightly as he says, “I’m wanted by the FBI, and I don’t know that my hometown is a particularly good place to hide out. Agent McCall says he’s going to ‘take care of it’ but to keep my head down and stay out of trouble until my name is cleared.” 

Chris isn’t entirely sure why he’s being told this. He nods anyway. “Okay.”

“I know a thing or two about running from ghosts,” Derek says, and there’s weight and wisdom behind those words that no twenty-five year old should have. It’s a kind of wisdom that comes with loss and grief and a part of Chris aches with guilt that is not his. “It’s better with company.”

Chris remembers Derek’s face as he and Chris tucked themselves quietly into a hotel room in North Carolina. Chris had plenty of practice extracting bullets, but this was the first time he'd ever felt a werewolf take his pain. It was intense, a prickling sensation at the place where Derek’s palm pressed flat against Chris’s forearm, pain leeching out of him leaving a floating numbness that eased the slide of bullets from his torn flesh. Derek’s face remained passive the entire time, and Chris wasn’t sure if it was practice, or if the young man had endured so much pain that bullet wounds couldn’t make a dent anymore. 

There was a gentleness in Derek that had no business belonging inside the body of someone who had endured all that he had. Chris had seen him be far from gentle; seen him turn teenagers into killers, seen him tear enemies to pieces in a spray of blood. But that version of Derek Hale paled in comparison to the passive expression on his face even as his veins were black and heavy with Chris’s pain. 

Chris wasn’t a stupid man. He knew that this was a dangerous decision, that they were both broken, both carrying the weight and expectation. There were two (three, though Malia refused the name) other Hales in the world, but Derek had been bearing the burden of the Hale name far longer than any of the other Hales had ever realized. He’d been bearing it since he was a teenager, the target of a cruel game he hadn’t known he was playing.

Chris takes in the broad slope of Derek’s shoulders, the determined expression in his eyes and the soft curve of his smile. Chris can’t help that one side of his own mouth quirks up. “I don’t know when I’ll be coming back.”

Derek’s hands slip from his pockets and lift, palms to the sky, his shoulders shifting upwards. He doesn’t speak, but Chris hears the words anyway; so what? What is there left for him here. 

Chris is, after all, not the only one with ghosts in Beacon Hills. 

“Okay,” Chris says with a shrug of his own, motioning towards the car. “I guess company can’t hurt.” 

As Derek settles into the passenger seat, Chris glances over at him, taking in the satisfied smile. As they leave the town, neither of them look back, Chris’s glances in the rearview mirror only perfunctory checks for traffic before changing lanes. 

They’re past the state line when Chris asks, “What were you going to do if I said no?” 

Derek turns to Chris with mischievous eyes and one raised eyebrow. “I knew you weren’t going to say no.” 

Chris should be more worried that this young man – this werewolf – seems to think he can read Chris so well, but he’s not. 

They’re both spiderweb cracked, fragile and sharp-edged. Some of their edges are complimentary; Derek’s family burning, Chris helping Victoria take her own life after Derek’s bite. Some of the edges are unfamiliar; Jennifer’s betrayal, the way it feels to watch your child die. 

As they drive, Chris feels his chest begin to loosen. He’s been nervous since he decided to leave, unsure of what the future would hold. Somehow, beside Derek, he’s less afraid. 

Perhaps, Derek was right. Maybe running really is better with company.

[beholdme]

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 10

Chapters: 10/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9]

"When was the last time we saw Gerry?" Jon asks in a panic. Martin looks up from the other side of the dinner table. The pair of them are at their typical Thursday night date, in Jon’s favourite Italian restaurant.

They had previously been studying their menus, but Martin had felt Jon’s tension from the moment they met outside the library. It wasn't exactly surprising, considering the recent developments in their relationship, but he was still acutely aware of it.

“You saw him yesterday morning before work, and I saw him today when he came into the bookstore to drink tea and read an entire book without buying it.” Martin reminds him. He’s already told Jon about seeing Gerry today, and he was there when they had all said goodbye the previous morning.

Martin is fairly sure that Jon’s issue is more with the fact that Gerry was pale and tear-soaked as Martin had kissed him goodbye, and that Gerry had clung to Jon like an oversized barnacle as they rocked together for a final moment before they both left him alone to his thoughts. Martin knew he had slept and painted, or at least, that was what Gerry had told him in the quiet moments Martin had taken to spend with him in between the aisles of books that morning.

“You should go over and see him if you’re concerned. We could go to the bar after we eat, and then you can go stay the night with him.” Martin tells him gently, nudging his foot under the table.

"Maybe it would be better for Gerry if you go alone," Jon replies quietly, staring at his menu and refusing to make any kind of eye contact.

Martin closes and sets aside his own menu, leaning forward on the table to focus his full attention on the idiot love of his life.

"Why? Because he and I sleep together and you think that makes our intimacy more important? Or because you perceive it's your fault that his heart is broken and because of that you think you don't deserve to feel any comfort you might get from seeing him?" Jon goes shock still at Martin's words, eyes simply downcast now, instead of pretending to read the menu they both have memorized. "Or was it both at the same time?"

"Yellow," Jon says unhappily.

Only Jonothan Sims could safeword out of a conversation. Martin thinks tartly. I bet he learnt that from Gerry.

Martin sighs and leans back, out of Jon's atmosphere. "I won't push a conversation you don't want to have, love, but you have to know that neither of those things is true."

"No?" Jon snaps, finally jerking his head up to look at Martin. "Not even you can deny that I demanded that confession. I don't know what I expected him to say-" Jon cuts off, words choked off. "But not… Not that. Not those awful, horrifying things. All that trauma dragged out and put on display like some kind of, of-" Jon stutters to a halt, pressing his eyes tightly closed as if to escape the thought that anyone had ever laid hands on their bright, beautiful boy.

"Like some kind of bloody museum exhibit? You couldn't have guessed. And you have a right to closure as much as anyone." Martin says emphatically. He reaches out to clasp their hands together, and Jon thankfully allows the contact. "No one could ever look at Gerry and guess that those skeletons live in his closet. That he hides those scars behind his sweet smiles and paint-stained hands."

"I was there, Martin. I was with him the night before he ran away. He already knew, had already decided to go, and I didn't notice." Jon bites out the final words, bringing his hand down on the table in frustration. It's the ultimate recrimination in his own mind.

"You can't know what you've never been told Jon, you aren't omniscient. You can't know what Gerry and I are thinking and feeling unless we tell you. Just like Gerry and I can't know what you're feeling when you avoid telling us things." Martin sighs, the exhaustion of several days of tears and worry dragging down on him. "We can pick up on it sometimes though, and we aren't scared teenagers anymore. Gerry will know you're avoiding him if you send me to check on him tonight and it will hurt him. If you're committed to him, and I know you are, then you owe him your bravery now. We all have to overcome our insecurities if we want to make this work."

Jon and Martin sit looking at each other for a few heavy seconds.

"I don't feel brave," Jon whispers across the space between them.

"I know, my love. Neither do I. But we are." Martin lifts Jon's hand to press a kiss to Jon's palm, just as Gerry had on their initial date in the bar. "We can be brave together, the three of us."

*

Gerry is not at work. They share a look of sinking fear when they don't find him working his shift at the bar.

He is at home when they let themselves into his loft, much to their relief. His posture and the general disarray fills Jon, especially, with fresh anxiety.

He leans against his art table, smoking a cigarette and looking up at the most jarring painting Jon and Martin have ever seen him create. If the angry swirls of color and violent-looking paint slashes even constitute a painting.

Gerry is wearing the same going-out clothes he had been wearing when Martin had seen him earlier, rather than his typical comfortable home clothes. He is covered in paint, and his makeup is smeared across his eyes from repeated rubbing.

Martin nudges Jon in Gerry's direction and moves off towards the kitchen.

"I do not want tea, Martin." Gerry's quiet voice manages to fill the space, hollow and empty, much like his facial expression.

"Good," He responds, hardly missing a beat. "I was going to look for the whiskey."

"Stop looking like a kicked puppy Jon, you didn't do anything wrong," Gerry says to him, offering his cigarette. Jon eyes the doorway that Martin just disappeared through, but ultimately goes over and takes it. They lean together, shoulder to shoulder, smoking and each trying to draw warmth from the other.

"Do you know what I thought about for years after you left?" Jon eventually whispers softly.

"What?"

"That last night we were together. Do you remember?"

Gerry laughs breathlessly at the question, pressing his eyes shut and curling slightly in on himself. "Yes Jon, I remember. How could I ever forget."

"That was the last time I had sex." Gerry finally looks over at him, no shock, no visible reaction at all really, but his attention focuses on him. Jon focuses his own attention on the painting, which is easier to look at than Gerry's face right now, despite its discordant energy. "I could never let go of that feeling I had after; like we were one soul separated by our ridiculous bodies. Like our intimacy, however desperate and hormonal, brought us closer together than anything else we could ever do together in this life."

Jon releases the confession into the room around them, finally releasing himself from the weight of it.

"And then I was gone," Gerry whispers back, voice small.

"And then you were gone. I was never very interested in sex as it was, and then even when I was in relationships after that, I never wanted to risk lying in someone's arms and finding a hole where that feeling should have been. Or maybe even worse, finding it there again, as if what we had wasn't as special as I had thought, and that was why you had just been able to walk away so easily."

"It wasn't. It was the worst thing I ever did."

"I know that now," Jon says, taking a long, grounding drag of his cigarette, "But that was the fear that sat in my chest and kept that wound bleeding, right up until the day that I watched you walk out of my library stacks, like some kind of literary saviour, reborn from my desire and ink and old parchment paper."

Gerry pushes off from the table they are perching on. "I understand if you don't want this anymore. I wouldn't want to be with me, either, if I were you."

"Gerry-" Jon tries to cut him off, but he plows on ahead, apparently deciding to just get the words out from where they've been suffocating him.

"You can keep Martin, obviously, you knew him first. You two were happy together before I plowed into your lives like a fucking freight train."

Martin himself, listening in the other room, doesn't particularly appreciate Gerry attempting to hand him off like a negotiating chip, but keeps his opinions to himself for the time being, in the hopes that Jon will handle the situation.

Jon watches Gerry for a moment as he starts moving things around, shoulders tense and movements aggressive. He rolls his next words very carefully around his mouth before he allows himself to speak.

"You did plow into our lives like a freight train." Gerry releases a sound of distress at the repeated words, and Jon slowly walks up to him and takes his shaking hands, turning Gerry towards him and hoping to finally encourage eye contact between them. "But we don't think that's a bad thing. We love you, Gerry Delano. I love you. I loved you when you were Gerard Keay, and I love you now and I loved you in a tiny box in my heart for all the years we were apart. I would be an idiot if I let this hurt between us keep us apart for any longer than it already has, and the last thing I could ever want is to watch you walk out of my life again."

Tears slip down Gerry's messy cheeks and Jon reaches up to brush them gently away.

"Please," Jon begs him, voice hoarse. "Please stay with me, please keep us here in your loft and teach me to paint my nails and be brave. Let Martin braid your hair and keep going into his store to read his books without buying them."

For a moment they simply stand, tears pouring from Gerry's tightly shut eyes while Jon clings to him and tries desperately to occupy the same space in the universe as Gerry does.

Gerry's eyes open slowly, teal irises only enhanced by the brightness of his tears.

"Yes," he tells Jon.

"Yes? You'll stay with us?"

"Yes. Always." Gerry pulls Jon further into his embrace and they cling together, crying quietly.

"Thank God," Martin mutters in the next room, running his hands up his face and through his hair in relief. Shaking it out and releasing the tension that had wound itself up in his gut, he gets up and starts moving about with purpose.

"Is Martin cooking?" Gerry asks incredulously as the scent of frying bacon reaches them through their tearful haze.

"Oh," Jon says, glancing up at the kitchen doorway. "I guess so. We never ate any dinner."

"Why not?" Gerry asks, sniffling.

Jon sighs, full of gratitude and long-suffering. "Because Martin wouldn't stop emotionally stripping me naked in public."

Gerry laughs wetly, imagination running wild.

"Also," he says, full of exhausted affection. "Because we love you."

"Oh." Gerry curls around Jon even more. "I'm glad."

*

Martin feeds them, and sends Gerry to shower, and puts on a movie for Jon to start. He doesn't touch any of the art things, but he tidies a little as he hovers around, waiting for him to emerge from the bathroom.

When he does, Gerry looks much, much better. The smudged makeup and paint are washed away, and his hair is wet. It all combines to make Gerry look very young, and Martin is reminded that he is actually the youngest of them, despite always seeming so settled into his life.

Martin takes his hand and tugs him towards the lounge section of the big main space.

"Martin, I-" Gerry starts.

"Not now, love. You and I will sort things out later when you've slept and had time to process everything else." Martin's tone doesn't invite any argument, and Gerry's teeth snap together as he closes his mouth.

The movie plays, but Gerry sleeps through it and so does Jon, mostly.

As the credits roll, Martin giggles to find himself somewhat drowning in sleeping men, despite the quiet heaviness still hanging in the air. Jon wakes at the motion, since Martin is almost directly beneath him, and yawns and stretches.

"How are we going to get our lumberjack to bed?" Jon asks, eyeing Gerry's long form with some trepidation.

"I could carry him, probably," Martin says, with no real confidence.

"Please don't," Gerry mutters into the side of Martin's neck, where his face is buried.

"Ah, problem solved," Jon says, leaning over Martin to kiss Gerry.

Martin hopes they wake each enough to walk to bed, lacking the desire to carry anyone anywhere at this time of night. Especially up the stairs to Gerry's loft, where the bed lives.

They make it up to the bedroom eventually, and collapse together, sleeping soundly through the night.

*

Gerry doesn't always like lying in the middle when all three of them are in bed together, being the warmest and the longest of the three of them, but the next morning that's where he finds himself.

The window lets in the cool, gentle light of pre-dawn, and Gerry shifts around, trying to orientate himself.

Jon is lying right on his edge, on his stomach, absolutely dead to the world, a halo of wavy black and silver hair surrounding him chaotically.

Martin is lying on his back, one arm threaded through Gerry's, the other thrown over his head. He breathes deeply, but shifts periodically, as if unsettled. Gerry turns towards Martin, bare chest pressing against his shoulder and feels dread settle into his stomach as he watches his partner sleep fitfully.

Gerry knows he won't be going back to sleep, but doesn't even consider getting up and moving away from the men in his bed.

Martin stirs at his movement, moving his arm to curl around his waist and draw him in close. Gerry buries his face in Martin's shoulder, arm thrown across his waist.

"What’s the time, Ger?" He mutters.

"Early still. Almost six." He whispers in return, peering over Martin to check the bedside clock.

He groans. "You alright?"

Gerry hums back, pressing a kiss to Martin's chest since it's so conveniently close by.

They lie together for a while, cuddled up close, sharing body heat and gentle comfort, until eventually, Martin surfaces properly, mostly to use the bathroom.

He comes back with a glass of water, which Gerry shares with him before they settle back as they were before.

Martin runs his fingers through Gerry's hair and Gerry traces patterns along Martin's chest through his shirt.

"I'm sorry," Gerry whispers into the cool semi-darkness.

"For having a breakdown?" Martin's tone is carefully even, although he continues to hold Gerry close.

"No, not that."

"You mean the part where you assured Jon he could keep me as if I were an unwanted child in a divorce. A feeling I'm plenty familiar with, actually." The carefully natural tone continues, and Gerry presses his fingers into Martin's side, hurt sliding through him at his own stupidity. His heart breaks to imagine how the careless words had made Martin feel.

"That's not what I meant." His voice is small and he hates the useless words, but he can't push any others out.

"Don't worry about it. I'll admit, I do normally prefer to be involved in the plans for my own future, but I'll let it slide this time." Martin smiles just a little, an edge of bitterness creeping in. “On the grounds of emotional distress.”

"Martin…" Gerry presses the word into his skin, curling even closer.

"I'll ask you this though. Did you really think I would just walk away with Jon after what's been between us?" Martin's voice finally, finally breaks just a little. Through the entire Mary confession, Jon's emotional struggle, their confrontations, and the oceans of tears, Martin had been completely steady, calm, logical, never falling into the erratic emotions of his partners, but this is what finally gets to him.

"I-I don't know what I thought. I guess I just couldn't fathom at that moment that you and Jon could ever want me again." Gerry slides his hand up, curling it around Martin's face and drawing it down to face him. "I'm broken, Martin, and I don't want my brokenness to break you."

Martin signs softly, turning over towards him, so they press together. Their foreheads touch and he kisses him gently, just once.

“You are not broken. What happened to you is fucked up, and anyone can understand you being messy and volatile sometimes, especially with how balanced you normally are. Maybe next time, ask us how we feel. Instead of, you know, staying up for two days, trashing your flat, and coming to my job to say goodbye to me without actually telling me anything.”

“Noticed that, did you?” Gerry asks, flushing.

“Yes, love. The complete lack of flirting, winking, and ass grabbing rather gave it away. You also paid for your drink. Very out of character.”

Gerry laughs and presses closer into him. “I have to keep you in business. Got to pay for something.”

Martin squeezes him reassuringly, rubbing their noses together.

They are quiet for a moment, and Martin frowns in consideration, before going on. “You and Jon aren't the only catalysts here. I would have fought for you if Jon wanted to pack it in and walk away. I chose you just as much as I chose Jon. Just as much as you chose me. Please remember that the next time you're tempted to treat me like a pawn in this arrangement, because I am not.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Gerry tells him, sincerity heavy in his voice.

“Then we'll say no more about it.”

[yourcoffindoor]

Bulletproof Heart Pt. 1

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

Prompt: Request from Anon- “ could you write one where the reader is a rock singer and they and mcr are on warped tour together, and they both lowkey like each other but think they’re both out of each other’s league, and find out that they’re both secretly into nerdy stuff + maybe getting together? thank you so much xxx”

AN: This is a multi-part series--I couldn’t help myself! Also, I based this fic around something Gerard said in a Rolling Stone interview:

Hope its ok Anon! enjoy!

You had dreamed of this moment since you first picked up a guitar. Back then it felt like an impossible fantasy, being on stage with your band, playing in front of a crowd of screaming fans; which is why it felt so surreal when your manager Tim told you that your band, The Violent Delights, had booked Warped Tour.

"June 18th," he told you with a satisfied grin, "you're in for the long haul, kids."

Your band-mates let out a collective shriek of joy, while you planted a grateful kiss on Tim's cheek.

"You're an OK manager, you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said, dramatically wiping his cheek where your lips had been. "Now you guys better get practicing. This is a good opportunity to really get your name out there. Plus you got some real popular acts to compete with."

Your interest was peaked. "Oh yeah? Like who?"

"Off the top of my head? Fall Out Boy, Dropkick Murphys, and I think a band called My Chemical Romance."

"Oh shit, My Chem?" your bassist, Gavin, piped up excitedly. "That's the band I'm always trying to get Y/N to listen to."

"I'll have to finally borrow their last album," you replied, "gotta scope out the competition after all." Gavin rolled his eyes while you laughed.

Your manager got serious. "It's three months on the road, and its gonna take a lot of energy and hard work. Quite frankly, it ain't glamorous."

"Tim, when have we ever been glamorous? I wouldn't care if it were a 12 month tour," you declared, "I wouldn't miss this opportunity for the world." Liz, your drummer, nodded in agreement beside you.

"You might be singing a different tune when you haven't had a shower in three days."

"As long as I'm singing it in front of an audience, we'll be fine."

* * *

Back at your apartment you marked June 18th on your calendar with a star, feeling invigorated with excitement all over again. This was it, you thought, the next level for our band. You were determined to give it your very best, outperforming every other band there.

After all, you had worked so hard to get to this point. Starting in friend's basements and tiny cafes, the band had slowly built up a sizable following of loyal fans. You were no longer the opening act, drawing sell out crowds more often than not. You made a promise to yourself that the band wasn't going to lose this momentum. There would be no distractions for you on this tour, just hard work and the thrill of performing. That meant no parties, and absolutely no boys. You weren't ready for another relationship, you told yourself, especially since the last one ended in disaster.

Yes, this was the moment the band had been waiting for. You let the warm excitement that this knowledge brought envelope you, and you lay your head down on your pillow, falling asleep to fantasies of what lay ahead.

* * *

Its a long road from Maryland to Ohio. Columbus was the first stop of the tour, which meant your band had 6 and a half hours to go over the set-list, make adjustments  discuss their hopes and fears for the three month experience. Gavin gave you a few CDs to listen too, including My Chemical Romance's Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge.  You had heard their first album ages ago and enjoyed it, but there was something incandescent to the music you were hearing now. It stirred a whirlwind of heavy emotion, and you were enthralled from beginning to end. You made a mental note to see them perform at Warped as soon as possible.

When your bus arrived at its destination, you felt the unwelcome buzz of nerves building in your stomach. This was real, you thought, this was happening. You were used to performing at this point, but it was the amount of people you'd be performing for that was nerve-wracking. Not to mention the fellow artists who may be watching and judging your sound. You breathed deep and tried to push past the nervous thoughts that hummed incessantly around your head like insects.

Your band-mates were buzzing about with excitement, but you needed to distract yourself. Fresh air always helped settle you, so you grabbed your shoes and decided to go for a walk around the venue.

It looked almost like a circus with all the trailers and tents that had quickly populated the surrounding area. Merch stands and catering tents were being organizes as dozens upon dozens of vans and trailers pulled in. There were already a few fans camped outside of the chain-link fence that surrounded the area, eagerly awaiting a glimpse of their favorite artists.

You kept wandering, and you saw that a band was being interviewed in the media tent. There were five of them, each holding a microphone; but one member, a dark haired boy, was doing most of the talking. He was cute, you thought, and your stomach did little flips watching him respond to the questions that were being asked.

You watched a little bit longer from a distance, until you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned to see Gavin and Liz, who had been doing a bit of exploring as well.

"Hey, there you are! I was talking to a few people by the catering tent. They said some bands are having a party on their buses later tonight, we should check it out." Gavin informed you excitedly.

You hesitated. No parties. "I dunno, I want us to be in good condition to perform tomorrow."

Liz chimed in. "All work and no play, Y/N. C'mon, it'll be a great chance to make some connections with other bands."

"If you don't come with us," Gavin pronounced dramatically, "we'll be far too devastated to perform tomorrow." His hand went to his forehead, as though he was about to faint.

"Somehow I doubt that."

"Pretty please?" Liz stuck her lower lip out pathetically.

"With sugar on top?" Gavin added.

You glanced at the black haired boy in the distance. Maybe he'd be there, a small voice in your head piped up.

"Ugh Fine! But I'll only stay for a little bit."

Satisfied, the pair stopped harassing you, and left you to continue wandering, promising to meet up with them later.

* * *

People spilled out from open trailers as music blared from an unknown source in the background. Some were already far gone, stumbling from place to place, or lying on the ground blacked out.

You followed Gavin inside one of the trailers. You watched as he interacted with the strangers inside with ease, a trait you envied. He managed to find you both drinks, and you grabbed the mystery beverage, sculling it in hopes that it would numb your nervousness. You may have been a great performer onstage, but offstage it was easy for your social anxiety to take the wheel.

Gavin began to walk away, ignoring your whispered pleas not to leave you. Fuck. It always felt awkward to not know anyone at a party. You clutched your red cup like a life jacket keeping you afloat in a sea of drunken strangers.

A man approached you out of nowhere, the smell of alcohol emanating from every pore on his body.

"You look lonely." He leered at you expectantly.

"Then it seems like you need glasses. I'm just fine on my own."

He laughed. "Ooo! I like you. You've got spunk. Name's Brent, guitarist from Midnite Heist."

"Can't say I've heard of you guys."

Brent was either oblivious to your indifference, or just chose to ignore it. "So how'd you end up at this party?"

"I'm in a band on the tour too. Lead singer actually."

"No way! That's awesome, we need more talented eye candy on this tour."

You screamed internally while he droned on, tuning him out as you continued to sip from your fast emptying cup.

You scanned the room, watching people laugh and dance. Your stomach suddenly flipped again as you noticed the black haired boy from this afternoon, solemn faced and quiet, silently nursing a diet coke in his hands. He was clearly not having a good time. The guitarist who had been talking you up soon saw you looking at the sullen figure and turned his attention towards him, his eyes lighting up with recognition.

"Gerard fucking Way!" he bellowed, carelessly sloshing his drink as he waved him over, causing a stream of alcohol to fall to the floor below.

Gerard seemed to hesitate before walking over. "It's been awhile man," he said softly. His eyes, a warm hazel, flicked to you repeatedly as he spoke. "you here for the whole tour this time?"

Brent laughed, his sobriety dangling by a thread.  "Yeah, but still not up on the main stage, unlike you big-shots." he said, punching Gerard in the arm. Gerard offered a crooked smirk in return, his patience already wearing thin. Brent nudged you in the arm. "This is Y/N, her band is new to Warped. I told her I'd show her the ropes." He grinned at you. Ugh.

Gerard seemed to sense your discomfort. "Welcome, nice to see a new face around."

Brent interrupted before you could respond. "How come you're wasting time with a coke? I would've expected you to be the first one wasted here."

Gerard's jaw clenched, and you cringed internally at the sheer awkwardness of the encounter. "I'm sober now," he informed Brent, "I don't touch that shit anymore."

Brent laughed dismissively. "Dude, you?  Do you even remember the last Warped tour? I'll give it 2 days before you're lying face down in the bushes again." he laughed as if he had just said something hilarious.

You were livid, and Gerard was on edge. You decided to step in when you noticed his knuckles turn white from clenching his coke can.

You moved slightly, ready to get between them. "Hey you know what? I'd really love a coke right now too. Mind showing me where they are?" you looked pleadingly at Gerard. He took the hint.

"Follow me."

You gave a curt wave to Brent, who looked on in confusion before continuing his drinking binge.

You stepped outside, and the sounds from the party behind you became a faint, thumping buzz in the background. You were both silent for a moment before you decided to break the ice.

"So that guy was a dick."

Gerard's scowl turned into a thin, lopsided smirk. Your heart melted a bit. "Yeah. I just realized some of these people are only tolerable when I'm drunk."

Stop. Move away. You don't need a distraction like this. You tried to scold yourself but words kept escaping from your lips, prolonging the encounter.

"This is my first time doing Warped Tour, but I'm assuming these parties are pretty much never-ending?"

Gerard pulled out a cigarette and lit it. "Oh yeah, its every night for some of these bands. You're in for an interesting experience." You looked at him for a moment, perhaps for a bit too long. You had never seen anyone look so beautiful while surrounded by clouds of smoke.

"Yoohoooo! Y/N!" you heard the hollering of a clearly tipsy Gavin call from the doorway of the next trailer. "Where'd you go? The night is young! Get back here!"

You sighed. "That's my cue. Well actually that's my bassist, but he'll never let me live it down if I don't go back in there."

Gerard turned his head to the side and exhaled. "Catch you around. Next time you need rescuing from a douche-bag just light the bat signal."

You gave him a soft smile, forcing yourself to turn away and walk back to the trailer. As you did, you whispered aloud to yourself as a reminder:

"No distractions. No boys."

[princeescaluswords]

The Difference Between Wanting and Doing

There’s a line by a commentator in this post that I can’t get out of my head.  @poseyslegtattoo​  points out one of the truths of the show: everyone from Stiles, to Derek, to Peter, to Chris Argent, to Deucalion, to Jennifer stated with fervent belief that it was part of Scott’s new nature to be a killer, and Scott’s reply is “But then I didn’t.”   It’s part of his heroism -- his refusal to allow instinct, anger, and/or expediency to lead him to believe that what he wants and feels is more important than someone else’s life. 

But that’s not the line that bothers me.  It’s this one: “And then I failed to kill the person I meant to kill to become human again.”  

You see what this is right?   The commentator is saying that Scott had the desire to be human again, which I think is natural when you’re told that you have been given instincts to kill indiscriminately on the full moon; that you’re a danger to your friends, family, and loved ones; that there’s a century old family that wants to kill you on principle, and that you’re being stalked by a murderous alpha who insists that you commit murder in order to complete your forced adoption.   We can all agree that this is a reasonable response, right?  Then he was convinced (by Derek) that the only chance to become human again is to kill the one who bit you.  What that commentator draws from this is “See, Scott is just like everyone else!  He wanted to kill!”

We know that.  No one has ever claimed that Scott was a virgin birth born without sin.  He could get angry; he could be selfish.   He could want to kill Peter for ruining his life, but in the end, with every emotional and rational reason to do it, he didn’t.  That’s the point.

And then there’s the word ‘fail.’  I would ask the commentator to indicate where Scott went into a battle with Peter with the sole intent to kill him.   It certainly wasn’t when he confronted Peter with Derek in the burnt-out Hale House in Code Breaker.   He was there to protect Allison, who Peter had just stated his intention to murder.  And afterwards, when Peter was immobilized and burnt, Scott did not immediately think “Now’s my chance to kill Peter!”  He focused on his relationship with Allison.  How is that failing?

The commentator wants to propose that desiring a person’s death is the same as causing a person’s death.  It’s not, and Sheriff Stilinski agrees with me.  As I put sarcastically in another post, if wanting someone to die is equal to actually killing them, then Stiles whacked half the cast.  What’s the goal in saying that he failed?  It’s a subtle counter the idea that Scott was better than others because he had the power, the opportunity, and the emotional need to kill for his own advantage, and he didn’t.

But Derek did.

That sequence in Code Breaker (1x12) was deliberately shot.  Peter was lying on the ground, burned and immobile.  Derek walks slowly and deliberately over to Peter’s body, standing over him.  It’s not self defense anymore.  It’s not out of a need to stop Peter’s rampage.  Peter has been stopped.  Derek has plenty of time to find a way to neutralize Peter without killing him.  Scott sees this and begs Derek, but Scott doesn’t run over and try to kill him first or prevent Derek from killing him first.   Peter looks up and says “You’ve already decided.”  This isn’t a hysterical, spur of the moment, oh-my-god-it’s-gonna-kill-me execution.  It’s murder. 

Scott had plenty of reasons, emotional and practical, to kill Peter.  Derek had plenty of reasons, emotional and practical, to kill Peter.  Scott didn’t.  He didn’t even try.   Derek did.  Derek Hale is a murderer.

In Master Plan (2x12), when the situation was recreated with sinister irony, the outcome is different.  Scott, once again, had plenty of reasons, emotional and practical, to kill Derek.  Jackson’s claws were to Allison’s throat at Gerard’s command.  The last ten minutes had proven that the assembled werewolf and hunters couldn’t stop Jackson.  If he refused, Gerard would have Jackson kill all of them and then have Jackson force Derek to bite him.  Derek had spent that season recruiting teenagers into the pack, trying to kill Scott’s friends, hurting and lying to Scott.  Minutes before, Derek had lied to Scott about having a way to cure Jackson, turning to murder Jackson one more time.  “We’re past that.”   All Scott had to do was reach down, rip Derek’s throat out and say “I’m the alpha now,” Bite Gerard who then goo fountains, and then wait for Lydia and Stiles to arrive to stop Jackson.  

But Scott didn’t.  

It’s why they try to make Scott believing Derek about the cure coming from killing the one who bit you makes Scott as bad as Peter.  That’s why they claim that the mountain ash was an attempt to kill Gerard and failed rather than recognize that the mountain ash was a means to prevent Gerard from becoming a werewolf and succeeded.   It’s why they minimize all the bullshit that Scott went through in Seasons 1 and 2 -- being transformed, being mentally violated, being hunted and chased, being shot, being nearly run over by an SUV, being run over by an SUV, being poisoned while your murderer gloats above you, being forced to experience the girl you love and your own mother rejecting you as a monster, to being assaulted by the alpha to make Derek’s evil point that ‘It is about power.’ Scott has every reason, emotional and practical, not to save Derek, to take the power that Derek misused, to end Gerard’s threat, but he didn’t.  Scott McCall is not a murderer.  

The production didn’t do this to scorn Derek.  They didn’t hate Derek.  But Derek was a foil to Scott, a way to show why Scott was the hero-protagonist and on his way to becoming a True Alpha.  In a way, I would have thought it was a little overdone, but here we are, eight years later, and people are still arguing that Scott was just as morally deficient as Derek and Peter and Deucalion, even after the entire show made the point again and again and again that Scott wasn’t.   I can’t imagine why they can’t like Derek and realize the flaws that the show gave him served a narrative purpose.  Actually, I can imagine why.

BUT IT’S NOT RACISM.

[robinrunsfiction]

Baby, You’re A Haunted House

Pairing: Gerard Way x Female Reader Rating: General (TW for blood, mentions of a suicide) Requested By: None Word Count: 6,330 Author’s Note: Here is my first story for spooky season! I had hoped to have it up sooner, but life has been busy. This story has been in my mind since this spring. I intend on writing a little bit about the location it’s set in because it’s real! It really is a seminary that was converted into apartments in my hometown. I’ll link to the post here when it’s written. And yes, that is a picture of it below!  Also!!! There is a reference to another one of my favorite bands and one of their albums, first person who can correctly point it out wins... a prize? My admiration? Not sure yet, but shout it out if you know it!

It all seemed too good to be true.

(YN)’s roommate had let her know that she was going to be moving out of town for a new job and the thought of looking for a new apartment or roommate was overwhelming. She was dreading the process, but the next day while eating her lunch at work, she spotted an ad in the paper for Holy Name Heights. The description stated the apartments were newly renovated and located in a historic building on the edge of town, so she called right away to set up a tour.

Later that week she was touring the building that had previously been a seminary for many years. The diocese had sold the second and third floors of the sprawling building to a developer who converted the rooms into apartments, while leaving the first floor as office spaces for the diocese, a Catholic charity organization, and a small museum about the history of the church’s presence in the area.

“This place is beautiful,” (YN) marveled at the space. While being only one bedroom, it was spacious, had a washer and dryer so she wouldn't need to haul her laundry anywhere, assigned parking, not to mention a beautiful view, but a question nagged at the back of her mind. “How much is it per month?”

“$850 per month including utilities,” the agent replied with a smile.

“Oh! Ok, yes, I’d love to apply!”

A few weeks later as (YN) was moving her things into her brand new third floor apartment, she realized how quiet the building was. She paused briefly at each door as she walked by, straining to hear if anyone else was there. As she arrived at her own door with another armload of boxes, the door next to hers opened and a dark haired man stepped out. She shot him a quick smile as she fumbled for her keys. 

“Do you need some help?” He asked.

“That’d be great,” she laughed and he took the box from her so she could get her keys straightened out. “I’m (YN).”

“Gerard,” he replied as she got the door open and took the box back from him.

“Have you lived here long?”

“Just moved in last weekend. I’m glad I’m not the only one up here anymore.”

“Wait, seriously? None of these other apartments are occupied?”

“I don’t think so, I haven’t seen many people around. I guess an old seminary might be kind of a hard sell.”

“Yea, I’m not sure I would have considered it either if I wasn’t in a bind. Thanks for the help with the box,” (YN) smiled as she shifted it in her arms.

“No problem, I’ll see ya around,” he smiled before continuing down the hall.

“See ya,” she called after him. (YN) closed the door behind her and shook her head. Cool apartment, good price, cute neighbor. It all seemed too good to be true.

~

The next day (YN) got up, made a pot of coffee and set about unloading the box that held her mug collection. The fact that she didn’t have to share cupboards with a roommate delighted her, as she didn’t have to worry about any of her favorites getting damaged. She put on some music and made her way over to the living room window as the smell of brewing coffee filled the room. 

Her view was of the front of the building. Trees with bare branches lined the hillside that the building sat upon and a long driveway led up to the front of the building. She loved knowing that the leaves would soon be filling those branches, and then in the fall they’d turn beautiful shades of gold, red and orange. She also liked the idea of being able to see who was coming and going up the driveway. 

After enjoying her coffee, she got back to work unpacking her apartment. The hours flew by as the pile of broken down cardboard boxes piled up near her door. As she wiped her sweaty brow, she realized she had no idea what to do with the boxes and trash that had accumulated. Had the agent even shown her where the dumpsters were? Then she had an idea. Gerard.

Should she bother him? She didn’t even know for sure if he was in. She took a deep breath as she approached his door and knocked. She wondered how long she should wait if he wasn’t there, or didn’t want to answer. She’d never interacted much with the neighbors at her old apartment building, so maybe she was being totally obnoxious. (YN) was so deep in her own thoughts that she almost didn’t notice that the door was opening.

“Hey (YN), what’s up?”

“Hi, umm this is probably super dumb, but I don’t know where the recycling bins and dumpsters are. The agent never pointed them out, and I didn’t think to ask until I realized I was knee deep in broken down boxes,” she laughed nervously.

“I can help you carry boxes down,” Gerard offered with a smile.

“You don’t have to do that,” (YN) could feel herself blushing.

“It’s no problem.”

“I mean, if you insist!” (YN) laughed and he followed her back to her door. They each took an armload of boxes and Gerard led the way to the staircase that was at the end of the hallway next to his apartment. (YN) glanced over her shoulder at the dark portion of the staircase that led up to a door, most likely the attic. She quirked an eyebrow in curiosity but continued after Gerard.

“So what do you do?” (YN) asked, breaking the silence that hung between them as they headed down the stairs.

“I’m a comic book writer,” he replied almost sheepishly.

“Oh wow, that’s really cool,” (YN) replied genuinely and Gerard lit up.

“Thanks! A lot of people think it’s kinda lame, but it’s just a different type of writing, ya know?” (YN) nodded in agreement. “What do you do?”

“Boring office work,” she said shaking her head. “I wish I had time to do creative stuff like write or draw.”

“You should try, even if it’s just a little bit at a time,” he said as he opened the door leading out into the bright sunshine. “The dumpsters are back here.”

“Thanks,” (YN) smiled as she dropped her share into the recycling bin. "And maybe I'll try to find some time to write, if inspiration strikes."

"You'd be surprised how ideas can pop up when you least expect them," Gerard replied as they made their way back to their floor.

~

Winter started to melt into spring, and (YN) had settled into the routine of her new apartment life. Or at least she thought she was. 

It quickly became clear that she must have been a lot more absentminded than she realized, and her old roommate must have been picking up her slack. She could have sworn she had more milk left when she put the carton back in the fridge, but when she grabbed it the next morning for her cereal there was almost none left. And then there were all the things that just seemed to disappear for no reason that never reappeared, no matter how hard she looked.

One thing that didn’t seem to disappear was her crush on her neighbor Gerard. Interacting with him also became part of her routine, as it always seemed they were running into each other walking into the building or by the mailboxes.

It just happened that it was one of those lucky days, as (YN) had just walked in with her bags from grocery shopping when Gerard walked by. 

“Hey (YN),” he smiled. 

“Gerard,” (YN) started, trying to stifle a laugh. “ I’m not trying to be mean, but do you know how to cook? I feel like I’ve only ever seen you with take out, but never groceries,” she said nodding to her own bags.

“I know how to cook! I am a functional adult,” he replied with feigned offense.

“If you say so, enjoy your dinner,” (YN) replied as she entered her apartment.

“I’ll prove it to you,” he called just as she was about to shut the door.

She poked her head out the door, eyebrows raised. “Oh really?”

“Tomorrow night? 7 o’clock?”

“I’ll be there,” she replied with a smile. When the door was shut behind her, she couldn’t help but let out a squeal of delight.

The next evening (YN) was digging through her drawers looking for the sweater she wanted to wear to dinner with Gerard, but she absolutely could not find it. 

“This is crazy, I know I saw it when I was putting away laundry,” she muttered to herself. She got up and went over to the closet housing the washer and dryer, in hopes it had just fallen between the machines, or maybe was still in the dryer. She looked all around but found nothing, and trudged back to her room.

‘Wait, I didn’t turn the light off,’ she said, flipping the switch back on with a shake of her head. “I need to get more sleep.”

Giving up the search, she threw on a different top and checked the time. It was a few minutes past 7 and she hurried out the door.

“Welcome to my humble home,” Gerard said with a smile as he let (YN) in.

“Hmm, seems familiar,” (YN) giggled. “Oh dinner smells great!”

“Thank you,” Gerard smiled proudly. “We’ll be having spaghetti and meatballs. Umm, I don’t drink, so I have soda or water,” Gerard offered.

“Water is fine,” (YN) replied as she sat down at the table. “How’d you day go?”

“Good, I think I have a new story I wanna work on,” he answered as he placed plates on the table and sat down himself. “How about you.”

“Pretty boring actually. I’ll have to admit, knowing that we’re gonna be having dinner got me through my day.”

Gerard smiled and (YN) could have sworn she saw a blush creeping across his cheeks as he glanced down. "I'm glad I could help."

Conversation lulled as they dug into their meals, and The Smashing Pumpkins played softly in the background.

"Ok, I have to apologize for that dig yesterday about you not cooking, this is very good,” (YN) smiled.

"I have to admit, I bought the sauce, and the meatballs were frozen," Gerard winced.

“That’s fine! I do the same,” she laughed and Gerard looked relieved.

(YN) was having a wonderful time hanging out with Gerard and she felt like she could listen to him talk forever. He spoke with such passion and enthusiasm, it drew her in and she hung on his words. They laughed and joked and the time flew by until (YN) found herself stifling a yawn and she glanced down at her watch.

"Oh, it's late! I should get outta your hair."

“Well m’lady,” he said, affecting the same posh accent they had been joking around in earlier and bowing before her, “I do hope this evening has lived up to all your expectations.”

“It most certainly has,” she said with a laugh as she curtseyed holding out an imaginary skirt. 

Gerard reached out and took her hand in his and placed a kiss to the back of it, catching her off guard as he looked up at her from behind his lashes. "I hope we can do it again sometime soon."

(YN) nodded. "Yea," she said almost breathlessly. "I'd love that."

Gerard walked her to the door and when she glanced back at him when she reached her own door, he was leaning against his door frame.

"Night," she waved before walking into her apartment and he smiled and waved back.

(YN) could hardly sleep that night, as she was absolutely buzzing.

~

Weekly dinners soon became a tradition between (YN) and Gerard, with both of them taking turns hosting the other. (YN) knew she was terrible at both flirting and picking up when others were flirting with her, but she couldn't help but feel like Gerard might just like her too.There was something about the way his friendly hugs and touches started to linger longer and longer.

One night when they had been hanging out Gerard had casually mentioned going to hang out with his brother on his birthday, so (YN) took it upon herself to bring him his present before he left that day. As she stood at his door, she felt just as nervous as the first time she was at his door asking for help with her boxes. Once again she was totally lost in thought when Gerard opened the door.

"Hey (YN)!" He greeted her.

"Hi! Happy birthday!" She smiled, holding out the plate of chocolate chip cookies and the card she picked out just for him. 

"You remembered my birthday?" He asked, his eyes going wide and pink dusting his cheeks.

"Of course I did!" She laughed. “How could I forget?” She added a little more softly.

The smile grew on Gerard’s face and (YN)’s heart fluttered. “Thanks,” he finally replied, shaking his head. “Hey (YN), I was wondering, if umm, you’d like to maybe like go out on a date, like a real date some time? Don’t feel like you have to say yes just because it’s my birthday.”

(YN) laughed again, and she could feel herself blushing. “Yea, that would be really nice,” she nodded. “And I definitely would have said yes, even if it wasn’t your birthday.”

“Great!” Gerard grinned, but the buzzing of his phone grabbed his attention. "Oh, Mikey's here."

"Have fun with him," (YN) smiled and waved as she turned to go while Gerard grabbed his jacket and keys.

"Wait," Gerard said as he locked the door and jogged over to her, just as she was reaching her door. She looked up at him expectantly and he seemed nervous again before leaning in and placing a chaste kiss on her cheek. "Thanks again for the card."

"No problem," (YN) smiled before ducking into her own apartment to swoon.

~

A few days later, it was finally the day of their first date. Gerard suggested they go to the art museum and grab coffee. Even though they hung out all the time, the fact that this was actually a date made things ever so slightly awkward. As they walked into the museum, their hands brushed a few times before Gerard took her hand in his. She glanced over and smiled up at him and he seemed relieved. They chatted and joked happily as they walked through the exhibits before they went down the street to the cafe.

Finding a table tucked away from the others, they settled in with their coffees. The sun that had been shining when they walked in was soon covered in dark heavy clouds, and big heavy raindrops began to beat at the windows. Something about it made a shiver run down (YN)'s spine, a feeling she’d almost grown accustomed to.

"Gerard, can I ask you something kinda weird?" She asked when there was a lull in the conversation.

"Sure," he nodded.

(YN) sighed and looked down. "This is gonna sound crazy, and maybe I'm going crazy, but sometimes things get moved in my apartment, or I feel like someone or something is watching me. I've checked every inch of it and there's nothing there, but I dunno. Have you ever felt that in your apartment?" She finally looked up and was startled by Gerard's expression.

"Yea," he said softly, a look of unease on his face. "I totally know what you mean. I notice it when I’m at your place mostly, but sometimes when you come around," he trailed off.

"But, I mean, ghosts and stuff aren’t real though, right? Like It’s probably just the vibe of it being an old building.”

“Yea,” Gerard nodded with a tight smile. “Ghosts aren’t real, vampires aren’t gonna hurt you, zombies aren’t gonna eat your brain while you’re at the mall.”

“Right! You are right. I’m sure it will pass.”

After the rain stopped, they headed back to their building and headed up to the third floor, stopping in front of her door.

“I had a lot of fun today,” (YN) smiled.

“Me too,” Gerard nodded. “I, I really like you (YN). I hope we can do this again.”

(YN) grinned and nodded. “I really like you too Gee, and yes I’d really love to go out again as well.”

Gerard’s face lit up, any nervousness alleviated. He reached up, cupping her cheek gently, as her eyelids fluttered closed. He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers softly, before pulling back just as quick.

“I can’t wait to do that again,” Gerard whispered.

“Then do it again,” she replied.

Gerard didn’t hesitate for a second longer, leaning back in and kissing her deeply as she kissed back. His hand found her waist as she clutched his jacket. When they finally pulled back, they were both breathless and smiling.

(YN) knew that it was the start of something special.

~

Summer arrived with warm weather and abundant sunshine, but that didn’t stop the cold drafts that would breeze through (YN)’s apartment, even when the air conditioning was off. But then the noises started. Thumps and knocks in the middle of the night, jolting her awake. Once she was convinced someone was hammering frantically on her door. In the middle of the night. She jumped out of bed and rushed to the door, checking through the peephole to see who was there. But there was no one. 

The solution that seemed to be working best was spending as much time away from the apartment, specifically out with Gerard. From picnics in the park, to going to movies, cafes, wandering around book stores or comic book shops for hours, (YN) loved every moment of it.

One evening they were watching a movie in her apartment, happily curled up on the couch together when the thumps in the wall began behind them.

“What was that?” Gerard asked, startled.

(YN) sighed. “No idea. It’s been like this for a while now. I called the maintenance guy, but he doesn't think anything is in the walls. It’s why I’ve been so tired lately, I haven’t been sleeping, like at all.”

“Do you wanna come stay over at my place tonight? Maybe you’ll sleep better,” he offered.

(YN) smiled back at him. “Ok sure,” she nodded. When the movie was over, she changed into pajamas and they made their way back over to his apartment for the night. The next morning when she woke up, she stretched and sighed happily as Gerard held her close.

“Sleep well?” Gerard asked sleepily.

“Mmhmm,” she replied, looking up at him. She reached up and brushed away the hair that was falling across his face. “Best I have in a long time.”

“You’re welcome here anytime you want, sugar,” he said leaning in and kissing her sweetly.

"I worry that I'll overstay my welcome if I’m over here that often," (YN) laughed.

"Not possible, sugar," he said with a smile. "I love getting to spend my nights with you. Days too. I guess what I’m trying to say is I love you, (YN)."

“I love you too Gerard,” she replied before leaning in and kissing him deeply.

~

September arrived and Gerard was going to be gone for the weekend with a few of his friends on a guy’s trip for his brother Mikey’s birthday. (YN) was a little nervous at first about being alone at night, to the point where she was considering going to visit her parents for the weekend. Surprisingly, she was able to sleep through the night without any noises or strange occurrences waking her up.

The next morning she got up and went to retrieve a mug from the cupboard for her morning coffee. Without warning, a glass flew down from the top shelf, smashing into her forehead. (YN) yelped in surprise and stumbled back, glass shards littering the floor. Tentatively she reached up and touched just above her brow and when she pulled back, her fingers were covered in blood.

"Shiiiiit," she groaned as she carefully stepped over the broken glass on the floor and made her way to the bathroom. Flipping on the light, she felt nauseous at the sight. Blood dripping from the gash landed and streaked down her cheek like tears, accenting the dark circles under her eyes that she just couldn't shake after so many nights of interrupted sleep. She looked like death.

"Gee must really love me if this is what he's looking at every day," she muttered as she dabbed away at the blood with a washcloth.

A few hours later while walking out the emergency department with a fresh set of stitches, she decided she may as well fill in Gerard.

Happy friday! guess where i just left!

From Gerard 💖: Work let you take a half day?

Hospital 😬 

She dropped her phone back into her purse as she made her way across the parking lot, but by the time she got the door unlocked, Gerard was calling her.

"What happened?!" He asked frantically as soon as she picked up.

(YN) sighed. "A glass fell out of my cupboard and I got a cut above my eyebrow. Just a couple stitches and I wanted to make sure they got all the glass out," she replied, downplaying the accident. She knew he'd be back in a few days and he'd know she wasn't telling the whole truth about the cut, but she didn't want him to worry or end his trip early.

"But you're ok? Do you want me to come back?"

"Yes, I'm ok. But no, don't cut your trip short, I'm gonna go straight over to my parents for the rest of the weekendI think. It's one thing when we're losing sleep with weird noises, it's another to be attacked like this."

"You… you think," he sighed, seeming to be choosing his words carefully. "That a ghost did it?" Gerard asked in a hushed tone.

"If the glass was off balance and simply fell out of the cupboard it would have gone straight down. This was thrown at me, Gee. There was force behind it."

"Fuck," Gerard muttered. "I'm sorry sugar."

"Don't worry, I'm ok, I promise."

~

(YN) was grateful that Gerard believed what she told him about the haunting of her apartment. He could have easily dismissed her or her fears as crazy and ghost her, but he didn't. He was just as concerned about the situation and her wellbeing. After that weekend they began talking about moving out as soon as their leases were up. 

It had been a couple weeks when Gerard had a meeting in the city that was going to run late into the evening, so (YN) was stuck spending the night alone in her own apartment for the first time since the attack.

As she got in bed, she wondered how long it would be before she would be woken up at night. The noises always managed to cut right through her slumber to wake her, no matter how exhausted she was when she fell asleep. And exhausted she was as her eyelids were heavy as soon as her head hit the pillow.

She wasn't sure what time it was when the noise woke her up, but she sat up in bed and looked at the ceiling. It sounded like skittering, and she wondered if it might be something as innocent as an animal stuck in the attic. 'Wouldn't it be something if it was some animal all along,' she thought as she laid back down and closed her eyes again.

What felt like only moments later she opened them again, but she was not in her room. She wasn’t even in her apartment.

“Gerard?”

He looked up from where he was sitting on the floor in front of his couch with a look of concern and fear on his face unlike any she had seen before. “(YN), are you ok?”

“No, I’m- why am I in your apartment?”

“I was asleep and some noise up in the attic woke me up, but before I could fall back asleep there was this loud bang and I went up to check what was going on because it sounded different from anything before, and you were up there on the floor like you fainted. You didn't even stir until just now when you woke up.”

(YN) shook her head. “I heard the noise too, but I went back to sleep, I didn’t even get out of bed, I went right back to sleep until I just woke up here. What could have made me faint if I wasn't even awake and can’t remember what I saw?”

Gerard ran his hand through his hair, considering her question and when he spoke, his voice shook slightly. “I… I dunno (YN). After I brought you down from the attic, I went back to your apartment so I could put you in your own bed and your door was locked.”

“But that’s not possible unless I took my keys and locked it behind me. Should we go up and look for them upstairs?”

“No!” Gerard said quickly. “I mean, I don’t want to make you stay here if you don’t want, we can call the maintenance line to let you in, but I don’t wanna go up there again. Tonight, I mean.”

(YN) climbed off the couch and sat next to him on the floor. “I’ll stay here, you know that's fine but,” she paused, taking a deep breath. “What did you see up there Gee?”

He shook his head, looking down at his hands. “We can talk about it in the morning? It’s late.”

(YN) swallowed hard and nodded. "Yea, that's a good idea."

Gerard got up, offered her a hand, helping her up. He placed a kiss to the back of her hand before leading the way to his room.

(YN) always felt safe with Gerard's arms wrapped around her holding her tight, but it was still a very poor night of sleep for both of them. The next morning (YN) and Gerard were sitting in his living room, sipping coffee in silence before (YN)'s curiosity got the best of her.

"Can you tell me what you saw up there now?" (YN) asked suddenly. 

Gerard looked up at her, the dark circles under his eyes matching hers. He sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Do you really wanna know?"

(YN) nodded. "I wanna understand what happened last night. Well as much of it as I can."

Gerard drew a deep breath. "Ok. I went up there when I heard the second bang. I was kinda surprised the door was open. And then I was shining my flashlight around and," he drew in a breath and shook his head. "I thought I saw someone at the far end of the attic, but my flashlight went through him. I started to panic and that's when I realized you were on the floor. I grabbed you and carried you back down here and, well you know the rest."

"You saw the ghost?" (YN) asked, her voice cracking with fear.

Gerard nodded solemnly. "I think so."

~

Gerard's words kept ringing through (YN)'s mind. There was no denying it now, she was being haunted by a ghost. She was, generally speaking, freaked out about the whole situation, but also a little curious. That's when she remembered the museum on the first floor.

The space was small, no larger than an office. Shelves were filled with books and bibles, and old black and white photos lined the walls, but one picture stood out as different from the rest. An elderly woman stood before it, gazing up at the portrait of the young man.

"Excuse me, do you know any of the history of this building?"

The elderly woman tore her eyes off the photo and looked back at (YN). "Well, I should say I do. What can I help you with?"

"I don't know how to ask this delicately, but, umm, is there any reason to believe that it might be haunted?"

The elderly woman nodded slowly. "Well, yes, I suppose there would be," she replied before glancing back at the portrait. "This was my brother, Joshua. He was in the seminary and was going to become a priest when he met her."

"Her?"

"Elenora. She was beautiful," she paused, studying (YN) for a moment, "actually you remind me of her. But he was so conflicted, he wanted to be a priest, but he was so enchanted by her. He convinced himself, and her, that the only way they could be together was in death."

"Oh no," (YN) gasped.

She nodded. "They were to jump together from the roof. He went first, she never went."

"I'm so sorry," she replied softly.

"It was 60 years ago. I had known Elenora my whole life, so I blamed myself for introducing her into his life, but I didn't blame her! I still don't. I don't admit this to many people, but we're still friends."

"You have a very forgiving heart," (YN) smiled. "Thank you for telling me all that."

She nodded. "That is what I am here for," she replied as she walked around to a small desk and picked up a dust rag before turning back to one of the shelves.

(YN) made her way back to her apartment and shut the door. "Joshua, if that's you, please leave me alone," she said. 

Nothing happened and (YN) shrugged.

~

The cool fall weather settled in and October was filled with the warm glow of red, yellow, and orange leaves on the trees outside, but by Halloween, the branches were blown bare, leaving dark, imposing branches reaching toward the sky.

Gerard's friend Frank invited them to his house for a Halloween party, and to celebrate his birthday.

A night out, dressed as Bonnie and Clyde, was exactly what they both needed after all the time they spent living in a real life haunted house for almost a year now. (YN) also loved spending time with Gerard's friends. They quickly made her feel welcome and made her future with Gerard seem even better.

It wasn't too terribly late when they decided to call it a night and headed home. "I'm gonna go change and I'll be over," (YN) said before heading into her apartment. Gerard nodded and headed to his own door.

She kicked off her shoes and dropped her jacket over the back of the chair when she felt a cold rush of air blow past her. She closed her eyes as a shiver ran through her whole body. When she opened them, again the cold air was surrounding her, wind blowing her skirt around as a freezing rain started to pelt her arms and face. Frantically she looked around, realizing she was on a rooftop. Before she could get her bearings, phantom hands were on her, pushing and pulling her toward the edge.

"No! No! Get off of me! Let go!" She screamed, flailing her arms, trying to shake off the attack. She seemed to break free and started to run toward the hatch to the attic.

The hands grabbed her ankle and sent her tumbling to the rough surface of the roof. When she looked over her shoulder, a figure made of a shadowy mist was pulling her by the leg toward the edge.

"No! Stop it! No!" She screamed again, her hands scratching at the roof, trying to make purchase.

From behind her she heard a bang. She looked up and saw Gerard at the opening to the attic. "(YN)!"

"Gee! Help!"

"Let her go!" Gerard commanded as he ran to (YN), pulling her off the ground and wrapping her in his arms protectively. She buried her face against his shoulder as she clutched his shirt. "Are you ok? I got you sugar, you’re safe now."

"No, no I'm not ok," she sobbed.

"Come on, let's get inside."

Gerard helped her down the ladder and carried her down the stairs to his apartment. He set her down in the bathroom and set to work cleaning the cuts across her hands, legs, and feet.

"Gee, I don't wanna stay here tonight, I can’t stay here anymore, I have to move or I’m gonna end up dead!" (YN) cried as Gerard wiped the blood away from her palm.

"I know sugar, I'll get you cleaned up and we'll go find a hotel room tonight, ok?" (YN) sniffled and nodded in agreement. “And then in the morning we’re gonna find a new place to live, you and me.”

(YN) had been watching as he worked, but hearing him say that she looked up at him. “Together? Even after all this? What if it follows me?!"

He reached up and wiped away the tears that were rolling down her cheek. “Together. Nothing's gonna come between us, not even a ghost."

A smile finally broke across her face as he placed bandages on the worst cuts. Then she finally changed out of her soaked and bloodied Halloween costume and into a pair of Gerard's sweatpants and an old hoodie. She didn't have shoes, but she didn't care. She wasn't going back into her apartment until the day she was going back to pack it up and move out. And even then, she was considering hiring someone to do it for her.

"Ready to go?" He asked when she walked out of his room.

"Let’s get away from here," she nodded and he took her hand. They hurried through the cold rain to his car and she sighed as she sunk into the passenger seat. She finally felt free.

Gerard started down the long tree-lined drive when suddenly a large tree limb came crashing down in front of them. (YN) screamed as Gerard slammed on the breaks.

"Shit! Are you ok?" He asked breathlessly.

"Look!" She whimpered, pointing a shaking finger out the window. Gerard looked as well at the ghastly figure on the other side of the branch. Gerard put the car in park and unbuckled his seatbelt.

"Gee, what are you doing? Gee? Gerard! Stop it, get back in here!" She cried frantically as he got out of the car. Not knowing what else to do, she scrambled out as well.

"Give her to me!" The phantom wailed, striking cold terror through her. "I gave my life for my love, she belongs to me!"

"This is not your love!" Gerard shouted back.

She moved to stand next to Gerard, interlacing her fingers with his. "I'm not Elenora! I've never done you wrong!" She pleaded. "Gerard is my true love! Let us pass!"

The phantom's face contorted, snarling, teeth growing long, fingers becoming claw-like. (YN) screamed in fright as Gerard stepped in front of her. As the ghost launched at them, headlights came up the drive, shining bright in their eyes, and the phantom faded into nothing.

The other car stopped and the driver got out. "Need help moving that branch outta the way? Woah, you two look like you've seen a ghost," the man laughed.

Gerard shook his head and looked back at (YN) sympathetically. "Well, it is Halloween."

~

A few months later (YN) and Gerard had settled into their new place. There was nothing in the new place that (YN) would describe as too good to be true. Their commutes were longer, they had to go to the laundromat to do laundry, and they were paying more in rent, but they were together and they finally had peace. And that was worth every penny.

“Hey Gee,” (YN) said as she padded into the living room one Saturday afternoon, holding something behind her back.

“Yea sugar?”

“So I’ve been working on something. I’m not sure it’s any good, but I think it’s finally ready for you to look at.”

Gerard sat up and looked up at her curiously. “What is it?” (YN) handed him a binder. “The Haunting on Holy Name Hill."

“A long time ago, back when we first met, you said I should try writing or drawing if I’m interested in it because you never know when inspiration will strike, and since moving out of that awful place I’ve been trying to wrap my head around everything that happened. So I started writing about it," she shrugged. "I fictionalized some of the events and changed our names, but can you read it and tell me if it’s any good?”

“(YN) I’m so proud of you,” he said with a smile as he got up and wrapped her in a hug. “I’m gonna read it right now.”

“If you insist. I’m gonna go to the laundromat.”

A while later when (YN) came back, Gerard wasn’t on the couch where she’d left him. “Hey Gee, did you finish reading it yet?”

“Yep,” she heard him reply as he came back from the second bedroom they’d set up as his office. “And I have something to show you too.”

“What’s that?”

“First of all, wow, the story is so well written!” he grinned.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously, you’re a natural! And second, look,” he said handing her a stack of drawings.

“What are these?”

“I was thinking, if you want, we could pitch your story as a graphic novel and these are some drawings I did when I was reading it. This is your character, this one is me.”

“Gee, these are amazing! And you really think that it’s publishable?”

“I really do,” he nodded.

“Ok yea, let’s do it. Other than being the place where we met, there should be some kind of good that comes from that awful place. And maybe serve as a warning to everyone else about things that seem too good to be true."

[sinful-stories]

Bloody Carpets

This is my entry for @nicole-lynne ‘s 350 followers challenge. I had Derek Hale and the line “You’re bleeding all over my carpet.” I didn’t really describe the reader so I hope it can be read as either a guy or a girl. Enjoy.

Characters: Derek Hale, Chris Argent, Malia Tate, Scott McCall, Isaac Lahey, Reader. (Lydia, Stiles and the rest of the pack are mentioned).

Derek leans back in his chair before setting his legs on the table in front of him. It had been quiet in Beacon Hills lately, minus a few new supernatural beings who moved in though they hadn’t caused any trouble to his knowledge. Scott hadn’t needed him yet for anything, so he’s gotten bored despite to increased numbers of hunters also living in BH with them. He put his arms behind his head, closing his eyes with a small sigh escaping his lips. Chris Argent had his hands full attempting to keep what Gerard had done before his death. Cora never returned, choosing to stay in South America where she wouldn’t be hunted or harmed at every turn. Isaac recently returned from France after training with the Argents there, becoming both a hunter and staying a werewolf in the mix. Scott and Stiles often worked with the sheriff’s office, though Stiles still worked for the FBI and was often gone on cases. Lydia began working at the school in order to keep an eye on the younger creatures, not because she didn’t trust them but rather she worried about them. Malia decided more recently to work with Deaton at the pet clinic without giving her reasons as to why. Jackson returned permanently to BH with Ethan so they could help Scott with the sudden influx of beings coming here. Cory, Hayden, Liam, and Mason were currently traveling outside of BH for a few reasons. They needed a break and to go to college but to also look for anyone who needed help. New creatures kept coming up and different breeds, though the one who bothered Derek the most had to be (Y/N). You showed up alone and seemingly running from a troubled past. You refused to open up about what happened or what led you to hide away in a town for the supernaturals when you seemed to be a human. With a snarky tongue and fierce attitude, you got under his skin in a way he didn’t like. Their arguments tended to end with one of them somehow injured. He liked you, and he wouldn’t deny that fact plus he couldn’t lie around any of the werecreatures throughout the town. Something about you drew him to you but he never had the best luck with romantic partners so he chose to ignore his growing affection for you.

His eyes open when he hears someone grab the door handle to his loft before it slide open. He quickly drops his legs from the table in order to greet who stands in the doorway before the scent of iron finally reaches him. (Y/N) stands there with blood dripping down multiple different wounds, you look like you could barely stand on your own with your skin looking several shades lighter than usual. Derek jumps up and runs over to you, barely managing to catch you when you attempted to step forward again like you wanted to meet him halfway somehow. He easily picks you up and rushes over to the table, easily clearing anything on it. You grip his sleeve as he lets go of you to pull out his phone, you didn’t know who he wants to call but you’re scared and he can smell it.

“No cops.” You manage to say finally, “Please.”

“I need to call someone. You’re bleeding all over my carpet.”

You huff but drop the hold you have on his sleeve, attempting to cover one of your wounds to avoid any more blood dripping on his carpet. He dials a number you’re not quick enough to see and walks away from the table, speaking in a low tone with the other person. You couldn’t believe you’d been stupid enough to be caught by a hunter in this town, you thought they didn’t attack unless they had reason to. Then again, that protection came strictly by being within the McCall Pack which you weren’t in. A loner through and through. You’d hoped that being here in BH would slow the hunters that have been on your trail since you turned, but you couldn’t have been more wrong. Derek ends his call with a small grumble before approaching you again, his eyes slide over the different injuries like he’s trying to figure out which one to treat first. He can’t see them very well though, most of them being hidden by the bloody fabric clinging to them.

“Do it,” You sigh, “I know you have to.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s not like I have anything you haven’t seen on one of your exes before.”

He studies your features for a few heartbeats before he rips open your shirt, exposing the different injuries covering your abdomen and back. His fingers lightly grazing scars he didn’t even notice at first, concern instantly coming into his darkly colored eyes. Pain rolls off of you in waves, it’s a sour scent that causes Derek’s nose to scrunch up. He reaches out and places his hand against the largest wound, you immediately know what he’s trying to do. Pain absorption. A skill most werecreatures have. It works on animals and humans, but it rarely works on other beings. It didn’t work though. Derek no longer had the Alpha status, he couldn’t take the pain from any other creatures. Scott told him to keep the wounds covered until he got there with Isaac and Malia, he wanted Isaac there in case you needed to be held down while the others worked on your injuries. They still weren’t sure of what you were so they wanted to a Beta there, other than Derek of course. He walks away again and ignoring the way you attempt to grab his sleeve to keep him from leaving. Faintly the sounds of his sink reach you, but it hurts for you to even move your head around right now so you trust your senses. You know what you need to heal, but telling him might cause him to turn you over to the hunters. Werewolves have never been very friendly with your type. You can’t help but to feel a pang of something at that thought, the thought of Derek betraying you. Closing your eyes, you try to recall your life before this. But for the first time, you can’t. You can’t remember your parents, friends, or anything else about yourself.

“Hey, keep your eyes open.” Derek’s harsh tone snap you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry.” You mumble.

“I understand, but you need to stay awake until Scott gets here.”

“Scott. As in Scott McCall. The true alpha who died twice before he was out of high school?”

“Is he that well known?”

“His whole pack is, even you.”

Derek snorts as he begins wiping the blood staining your skin with a warm, wet cloth. He hates that he can’t take away the pain rolling off of you in waves, he hates when he smells the stench grow stronger every time he wipes the wounds. You grip fistfuls of your jeans to keep yourself from lashing out at him, from drawing blood from him to heal the wounds. They weren’t sealing or scabbing over and you could feel how weak you’d become thanks to all the blood loss from dragging yourself to Derek’s loft. You did it because he’s in Scott’s pack, and you trusted him for some reason. No hunter could hurt you in Derek’s loft, hopefully.

 Scott and Malia were still waiting for Isaac at Deaton’s vet clinic. Scott took the time to pack up what he assumed they would need to help an injured person, although he wished Derek would bring you to the hospital so his mom could look at you. But he understands why. Most beings here don’t trust the humans since the hunters were everywhere. The hospitals, the sheriff’s station, the school… everywhere. Malia keeps saying that she doesn’t trust you because she doesn’t like how you smell, something about your scent caused most werecreatures to give you weird looks. But Scott never finds it off, he also doesn’t see why someone would hurt you. Isaac finally pulls up outside though instead of staying in his car, he gets out and rushes over to Scott with a file in his hands.

“Scott. I know why they got hurt.” Isaac skips any greetings, handing his alpha the folder.

“Why?” Scott askes even as he takes the file.

His eyebrows raise almost instantly as he reads the information printed there, he didn’t think vampires were real. No one he ever saved could tell him, they were rare to come across. Someone put a price on your head, a big one at that, and they wanted you dead rather than alive.

“We need to get to Derek. Now. This says they don’t care how it’s done or what rules they break. Whoever put this price tag out there won’t care about hurting Derek too. We should also call Chris, in case we need back up.”

Malia grabs the backpack Scott had packed and the trio hurry to Isaac’s car. Scott just hopes they can get there before something worse happens.

 Derek stands over you still, keeping an eye on how much you’re bleeding with an unreadable expression on his features the entire time. You couldn’t tell if he was mad from the blood soaking into the carpet or if he was concerned for your life. He moves to your other side, wiping away the sweat dripping from your forehead with a small frown. Scott didn’t normally take this long to get here, whether he had been busy or not. He’s trying not to pace around the loft, you weren’t moving a lot anymore and he hasn’t been able to get you to open your eyes since you closed them a few moments before. The sounds of multiple people slowly approaching his loft door causes him to look up from you finally, his eyes turning to an icy blue. His shoulders becoming tense as his nails turned into claws with a frown tugging on his lips. Though the tension leaves him when he sees Chris pull the door open with Isaac, Scott, and Malia.

“What took you guys so long?” Derek grunted.

“Chris needed to stop by the hospital to get what we need for your friend.” Isaac pulls the door shut, glancing at the amount of blood.

“The hell does that mean?”

“They’re a vampire, Derek.”

Derek looks down at your barely moving form, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. From the stories he remembered being told by Peter, they were supposed to be the opposite of werewolves. They chose to have covens though they liked being loners. They killed without care about who they hurt or turned in the process. They took and took and took yet rarely gave to others. The hunters, however, had taken control of the ‘out of control’ vampire population. It made them harder to find which made the hunters angry, they didn’t like how easily they could blend in with humans. Their eyes didn’t glow in pictures, they didn’t have super strength or hearing. They couldn’t handle a lot of sunlight though they could handle some of it. Their eyes were sensitive to the light, very sensitive. But they could heal faster than most humans. Their hearts still beat enough to avoid concern from medical personal. They could eat normal food, but they needed blood daily to survive. Everyone assumed it had to be human blood yet something tugs in Derek’s mind. He doesn’t believe it’s true.

There hadn’t been any reports of late night attackers that ended with someone dead or heavily injured. He shakes his head and glares at his former Beta, not believing a word from him. Chris walks over to check your pulse before he swings his bag forward, setting it on the ground to pull out a blood bag from the hospital. He refuses to look at Derek while cutting it open and allowing some to drip onto your lips. Your eyes open instantly but they’re no longer (y/e/c), rather a bright red that somehow manages to glow even in the evening daylight outside. You snatch the bag from Chris, drinking it greedily and hungrily. Derek steps back from the table, his eyebrows raising almost immediately. From the way you drain the bag, he knows you must have been hungry yet you never made a move to drink from him. You had held yourself back the entire time and that went against everything he had ever been told about vampires. He watches as you swipe the blood dripping from the corner of your mouth, licking the blood from your thumb. The others in the loft watching you in a mix of surprise, horror, and concern as the wounds covering you begin healing at a rapid rate they hadn’t seen before. You take a second bag of blood from Chris and rip it open with your teeth, finally exposing your sharpened canines in the process. It didn’t seem like you cared as blood slides down your throat and chest, dripping onto the blood stains from your blood there. Licking your lips once the second bag is finished, you look at the people around you in silence unsure of what to say.

“You’re a vampire.” Scott says, “Stiles is going to have a field day with this, he always swore you guys existed.”

“We do, sadly. Most of us weren’t turned with our consent though.” You shrug, wiping the blood from your mouth.

“Is that why you have a bounty of your head for killing your family?” Isaac speaks up, his tone unusually harsh.

“I didn’t kill them. I’m just the only one who wasn’t killed, so my grandfather is convinced I did. I’ve been on the run for years now.”

Scott studies you in silence, the debate he’s having mentally clear on his features. His arms crossing as he begins to pace. Chris and Malia both watch you with sympathy in her eyes, though neither attempt to get closer to where you sit on the table close to where Derek is still standing. Isaac, however, is glaring at you like he doesn’t believe a word coming out of you. Not like you care though. You’re used to people not trusting you. Derek studies everyone, scrubbing his hand through his hair with a small sigh like he can’t understand what’s going on. Then everyone starts talking. Isaac wants to send you back to your grandfather. Chris thinks you should go with him and keep hiding. Scott wants you to join his pack of misfits. Malia thinks you need to go to the police or Stiles. You argue against everything. You didn’t kill your family, and you weren’t planning on getting killed for something you couldn’t have done. Derek stays silent the entire time, trying to ignore all the yelling. He just watches the blood dripping down into the blood stains and it begins to annoy him adding to the annoyance that had been building from everyone talking.

“Goddamn it! I told you before, you’re bleeding all over my carpet!!” Derek roars.

[ellewritesathing]

So Close - S.S. XIII

Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.

Prologue - S2E1 Part 1 - S2E2 + S2E3 Part 2 - S2E4 + S2E5 + S2E6 Part 3 -  S2E7 +S2E8 Part 4 - S2E9 + S2E10 Part 5 - S2E11 + S2E12 Part 6 Part 7 - S3AE1 Part 8 - S3AE2 + S3AE3 Part 9 - S3AE4 Part 10 - S3AE5 + S3AE6 Part 11 - S3AE7 + S3AE8 Part 12 - S3AE9 + S3AE10 + S3AE11 Part 13 - S3AE11 + S3AE12

Word-count: 3.7k+

A/N: I’m starting to feel like three seasons of slow burn is getting a bit much but I’m super excited for you guys to experience the angst that is 3B. For now though, I really hope you guys like how I wrapped up 3A!! Let me know what you think :)

Oh and there’s like one swearword in this part if you guys need a warning

When the alarm woke you up, Stiles had already left. He left a post-it note on your phone with his reason; that he had to go tell Lydia what was going on before school. He found your mom’s keys and left them on the bedside table for you so you could drive yourself to school. How chivalrous.

The rest of the day wasn’t much better. You didn’t have the same classes as your friends, so you only saw them when the lunch bell rang and you found them in the hallway. You were on the phone with Isaac when you did and he was telling you that Blake had taken Chris in the bank vault. You weren’t really focused on what he was saying anymore because you were watching Lydia drag Stiles into the bathroom.

“Allison and I are heading to school now so-”

“Uh, Isaac? Don’t come to school. I’ll grab the others and meet you at Deaton’s. I’ll call you back once we’re on your way.” You hung up before he had the opportunity to argue with you and shoved your phone into your pocket. Something didn’t feel right.

Ignoring the pit in your stomach, you pushed the door open and went inside. It took you a second to find them, and it felt like your heart was being ripped out once you did. They were kissing. In your hurried attempt to leave, you knocked over a trash can. Stumbling out an apology, you rushed out and ignored their calls after you.

“Hey, Y/N! Y/N, will you please slow down?” Stiles caught your wrist and pulled you back. “That wasn’t- it wasn’t what it looked like.”

“So, what, Lydia was just helping you out with your algebra homework?” you asked, shaking your head. “Stiles, it’s not like we’re dating. If you wanna make out with Lydia, that’s your own-”

“I wasn't making out with Lydia.”

“So what were you doing?”

“I was-” Stiles sighed. “Look, she kissed me, okay? I didn't kiss her back.”

“You didn’t exactly pull away either.” You pulled your hand back and got ready to start walking again, but Lydia made you stop. She had that weird look on her face again.

“Has anyone seen Ms. Morrell today?” she asked.

---

You filed away your anger as you, Lydia, and Stiles rushed to Morrell’s office. When Danielle said she didn’t know why Morrell was late, you all agreed that if she wasn’t on time for a session, then she was probably missing. Stiles started digging through her desk for clues.

“Those files are private,” Danielle told him.

“Yeah, she’s kind of right,” Lydia said. She looked uncomfortable, but her discomfort faded as soon as Stiles started handing out files.

You’d been seeing Morrell when you transferred to Beacon Hills, and when Stiles dug out your file, your curiosity got the better of you. You only managed to skim a few phrases - problems expressing your emotions, defensive, in a sense of denial of why you’d been kicked out of Willow Creek - before Stiles and Lydia started talking again. Lydia’s file was full of her tree drawings.

“It’s the same one I always see you drawing in class,” Stiles argued.

“It’s a tree. I like drawing trees,” Lydia said simply.

“No, but it’s the exact same one.” Stiles came closer and you closed your file so you could be more involved. Stiles grabbed Lydia’s notebook and started flipping through the pages - they were all littered with drawings of the exact same tree. It reminded you of when you used to draw the wolves.

“Okay, you can have my session! You’ve got bigger issues,” Danielle said as she gathered her things and headed for the door. You would’ve laughed if the situation hadn’t been so eerie.

Lydia was breathing heavily with tears in her eyes as she stared at the pages in front of her. “What is this?” she choked out.

Stiles flipped the book around slowly. What you all thought had been the top of the tree, from this perspective, was now a dense root system. Like the one in the woods that Cora told you about.

“I know where they are,” he said.

“Well, are you gonna tell us where they are?” Lydia asked.

You and Stiles shared a look before each grabbing one side of her and beginning to walk outside. “It’s the nemeton,” you explained. “That’s where they are.”

You barely made it ten feet before you heard someone yelling for Stiles. This time it was your dad.

“Alright, look, go to Derek, okay?” Stiles told you and Lydia. “He and Peter have been there before. They’ll know where it is.”

“I’m not leaving you with him,” you said. “Lydia, tell them it’s the root cellar, okay?”

Lydia nodded and walked away quickly, which left you and Stiles just enough time to plaster some smiles on your faces and turn to face your dad.

Rafael nodded at you before turning his attention to Stiles. “Did you know your dad’s car is in the school parking lot and has been since last night?”

“No,” Stiles lied. “What does that mean?”

“It means he’s officially missing.” Rafael looked down and sighed. “Can I talk to you in private for a minute?”

“Actually-” you put on the sweetest smile you could muster and reached for Stiles’ hand “-I have this really big geometry test Monday and Stiles said he’d tutor me, so we’re just gonna head out if that’s okay with you.”

“Actually, Y/N, no. No, it’s not,” Rafael said. He sounded like he hadn’t slept in a few days. He looked like it too. “I’m going to talk to Stiles, and you’re going to wait in the hallway until I come out to get you.”

You started protesting but Stiles said it was alright. He shook you off and went to speak to your dad. Alone. In private. You mumbled a good few profanities before slumping down in a chair outside the classroom they were in.

You almost didn’t see Deaton through the haze of annoyance you were in, but you stood up as soon as he opened the classroom door.

“Fine,” Rafael said. “But I don’t want you going home alone. Do you have someone you can stay with tonight? Someone who’s not my daughter.”

“He’s with me,” Deaton said.

---

When you and Stiles got to the animal clinic, pretty much everyone who wasn’t kidnapped or playing secret agent with the Alpha Pack was already there. You sat on one of the countertops and bounced your leg while Stiles spoke.

“It has to be on one of the telluric currents - or maybe even at the axis of two,” he explained. “Or where they all intersect.”

“It’s where Derek took Paige when she was bitten,” you added.

“My dad and Gerard were there once. But Gerard said it was years ago and he couldn’t remember where it was,” Allison said. She ran a hand through her hair. “And my dad obviously isn’t here to tell us now.”

“Yeah, mine either,” Stiles said softly.

“Then how do we find this place?” Isaac asked, always asking the relevant (if un-answerable) questions.

“There might be a way,” Deaton said after a moment. “But it’s dangerous.”

“When is it not?” you asked, pushing yourself off the counter.

“And we’re gonna need Scott.”

“Why?” you asked. “We’ve been trying to find him since he left and he’s not answering any of us.”

“This is important. He’ll be here,” Allison insisted.

“And what if he’s not?” you asked. “Then what? We just let our parents die?”

“Actually, Y/N,” Deaton’s gentle tone and thoughtful expression sliced through your angry exterior. “Now that I think about it, you should work just as well.”

---

Deaton explained what you’d be doing beforehand: you’d be surrogate sacrifices for your parents. If it went right, you would only be dead for a few seconds. By doing so, you’d give power back to the nemeton - which would make it a beacon for the supernatural again - and the darkness around your hearts would follow you for the rest of your lives. And if it went wrong …

As cheery as the explanation left you feeling, your heart somehow managed to drop further when you stared at the ice baths in front of you. You clutched onto the necklace in your hands as you watched Isaac empty out another bag of ice into the tubs.

“Alright,” Deaton said, “What did you bring?”

Stiles brought Noah’s badge. It looked pretty banged up, but Deaton assured him that it would work fine as long as it meant something. Allison brought a ceremonial silver bullet that her dad made.

“Y/N?”

“My mom, uh, got this necklace from my gran when she turned sixteen. Said it was the nicest thing she ever got growing up. She just about cried when I spilled nail polish on it one day when I was little,” you explained quietly. “But, um, looks don’t matter, right?”

“No, they don’t,” Deaton smiled. “Now, the three of you will get in and each of us will hold you down until you’re essentially … well, dead. But it’s not just someone who will hold you under. It needs to be someone who can pull you back. Someone that has a strong connection to you. A kind of emotional tether.”

You and Stiles looked at each other while Deaton was talking, but you looked away quickly. You were still upset with him, and you both had to go under so it wouldn’t matter anyway. You hoped.

“Isaac?” you asked softly. He nodded and put an arm around you. Lydia and Allison were already holding hands in a corner.

“Well, Doc, I guess that means it’s you and me,” Stiles sighed. “And Scott, you know, if he ever shows up.”

Stiles was the first one to stand in front of the tubs, and Allison was the first one to get in. Judging by her reaction, the ice bath was going to be - unsurprisingly - absolutely freezing. You took a breath and then stepped in, slowly descending into the icy water. Your feet were the first to go numb, and then your hands even though they were still above the water. Were you shaking? You couldn’t tell.

You looked over to find Stiles sitting in a pretty similar position to you, except he was staring at you. You couldn’t help but laugh. “What?” you asked when you were done.

“Nothing. You just look …” he didn’t finish.

“Yeah, well, I know this is serious and all but I just-” you looked down. Your anger felt silly now. “Are either of you surprised by just how fucking cold this is?”

“Yes!” Allison laughed. “Like I get that it’s an ice bath but-”

“Are you ready?” Deaton asked. “If we’re doing this, we should really get started.”

The laughter died down and the three of you nodded gravely. You felt Isaac’s hands on your shoulders and took a deep breath. He asked you something, but you didn’t hear it properly. You just nodded. You were ready. You had to be.

The cold was smothering as he held you under and you thrashed to the surface, even though you knew you had to be still. The ice swirled around your head and you watched the last few bubbles of air in your lungs float to the surface. One … Two … Was that three? Should you be counting the groups of bubbles? Did any of it really matter?

You guessed you were a stronger fighter than you thought, because the next thing you knew you were crashing through the surface, gasping for air. Only, you weren’t in Deaton’s clinic anymore. You were in a big, white room with Stiles and Allison. None of you spoke as you got up and out of the water.

You were the first to go to the big tree stump that felt like an eternity away. The nemeton. The eerie silence only added tension to the situation, but none of you were brave enough to break it. Stiles was the first one to reach for the roots, and the sound of you begging for him to stop was deafening. He didn’t answer. Allison reached out next. Now it was your turn.

You kneeled in front of the tree, closed your eyes, and touched one of the roots. Taking deep breaths, you counted how long you could stay still before waking up. You stopped as soon as the silence broke.

Water was running nearby in a steady stream you could hear the birds in the distance. But what really shocked you into opening your eyes wasn’t the feel of the breeze or the smell of the damp leaves, it was the sound of laughter. Children’s laughter.

“Guys,” you heard a little voice whine. “It’s getting dark. How much longer are we gonna be out here?”

The kid in front of you looked about nine years old, definitely not older than ten. He had the same goofy haircut that Scott had at that age. And his ears were also slightly too big for his face. And the same little-

“Well, we would’ve been out of here an hour ago if you knew your lines.” The little girl rolled her eyes. She was in a tiny white, flowered dress. You had the same one when you were little. She was holding hands with another boy, who could barely contain his laughter.

That was you, Scott, and Stiles. Getting married on top of the nemeton.

“Okay, fine! By the power vested in me-”

Everything went black and you clawed at your throat. Air. You needed air. You reached up and pulled yourself to your feet, ignoring the pounding in your head as you gasped for air.

“I know- I know where it is!” You looked around desperately, needing someone to hear you. You were back in Deaton’s clinic. Scott stood up and rushed over. He picked you up, out of the tub, and wrapped you in a towel. “When did you get here?” you asked.

Stiles and Allison were busy telling the others about what they saw and where the nemeton was, but no one was answering. They all looked like they knew something you didn’t.

“What?” Allison asked. “What’s wrong?”

“You guys were out a long time,” Isaac said.

“How long is a long time?” Stiles asked.

“Sixteen hours,” Deaton answered.

“If we’ve been out sixteen hours then-” you looked at Scott desperately. “The full moon rises in like three hours. Scotty, she has to still be alive. She has to.”

“I know, I-” Scott took a breath. “We need a plan.”

---

“No!” Stiles argued. He was mostly dry now but you knew he was still cold in his bones. “Dude, you are not going back with them.”

“I made a deal with Deucalion,” Scott said.

“Does anyone else think that sounds a lot like ‘a deal with the devil’?” Stiles asked.

“What does it matter, anyway?” Isaac asked.

“He doesn’t think we can win without them,” you said. “Right? I mean, they killed our friends but it’s whatever so long as they kill her too, right?”

“Y/N, it’s not like that.” Scott sounded so defeated and you knew you were wrong to snap at him like that. He didn’t like them any more than you did.

“Circumstances like this,” Deaton started wearily, “Sometimes require that you align yourself with people you’d normally consider enemies.”

“So we’re gonna trust him?” Isaac asked. “The guy that calls himself Death, Destroyer of Worlds? We’re gonna trust that guy?”

“I wouldn’t trust him, no,” Deaton answered. “But you could use him to your advantage. Deucalion may be the enemy, but he could also be the bait.”

It was quiet enough for you all to hear the sound of the door creaking in the entryway. You heard one of the twins asking Deaton if they could speak to Lydia.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“I need your help,” he said.

Stiles stuck his head out to glare at him. You felt Isaac squeeze your hand lightly to distract from the overwhelming feeling of jealousy that spiked. “With what?”

“Stopping my brother and Kali from killing Derek.”

---

The plan that formed after that was arguably not your best plan, but it was the plan you were going with nonetheless. Lydia and Ethan went to the loft (Hale Duty); Allison, Isaac, and Scott went to her apartment (Weapons and Cavalry Duty); and you and Stiles went to find your parents (Rescue Duty).

“Will you cut that out?” Stiles asked, annoyance in his voice.

“Stop what?” you asked, still sounding annoyed.

“Bouncing your leg like that and ripping apart my seatbelt,” Stiles answered. “I get you’re mad at me for the Lydia thing but-”

“You think this about you and Lydia?” you asked and rolled your eyes. “Stiles, we are driving through one of the biggest wind storms I have ever seen to save our parents from getting ritually sacrificed. Sorry that I’m a little jumpy.”

Stiles sighed and slowed down slightly. “I’m sorry, alright?” You didn’t answer. “I didn’t know she was going to kiss me. You’ve gotta believe that I- that I wouldn’t-”

“Tree branch!” you yelled. In the time it took Stiles to look back to the road and swerve, you’d already been hit. And when he swerved, he lost traction underneath and the Jeep crashed into the tree in front.

You recovered quicker than he did, but you could feel the blood running down your forehead. As long as you could still move, you didn’t really care about the other injuries you might have. “Stiles?” No answer. You struggled to unbuckle and moved his head off the steering wheel, laying him back in his seat. “Stiles, I need you to wake up.”

You got out of the car and rushed to his side when he didn’t respond. You threw open the door and laid the seat down. “Stiles, can you hear me?” Nothing. You cursed and climbed on top of him, checking to see that his throat was clear. Time for CPR, you guessed. You didn’t know what else to do.

“Okay, listen to me, you little-” you bent down to give him air “-I don’t care that you made out with my best friend. I just-” air “-Need you to wake up. Okay?” Air. “I can’t lose you. Stiles, I- I love you-” air “-and if you die, I’m gonna kick your ass. Alright?” Air. It wasn’t working. “Come on, Stiles, please. I need you to-”

“Ow,” he groaned. “What the hell are you doing on top-”

“Oh, my god. There’s no time!” You pulled him up so he was sitting. You were still in his lap. “Can you see? How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Uh, three?”

You looked at your two fingers that were up in a peace sign and sucked in a breath. “Good enough. We need to go.”

The two of you started stumbling, rather messily, to where you thought the nemeton stood. Stiles made you stop to get his bat out of the car and you grabbed your baton from your bag. The ground was collapsing around the nemeton, and it took you guys a minute to find your way inside. Isaac was struggling under the weight of it all. Stiles shoved the bat into the space to give some support, and you did the same with your nightstick.

“I always said aluminum was better than wood,” Noah said. Stiles pulled him into a hug, but their celebration was short-lived. The rubble was quickly filling what was left of the cellar around you.

Melissa pulled you close before you had the opportunity to say anything, and you felt the tears fall on your cheeks. Your mom was whispering all these things about how you were together now and that everything would be okay, but you weren’t listening.

“We need to get out of here,” you said. “Isaac, can you-”

“The eclipse’s started,” he said. “I can’t do anything.”

Turns out, he didn’t need to. In a few seconds, the wind slowed to a stop. The rubble wasn’t encroaching your space.

“Is it over?” Allison asked.

You all slowly took your hands off what was left of the roof, and Stiles reached for the phone in his pocket. “Scott? Yeah, we’re okay. We’re all okay.” He smiled at you, and for the first time all day, you smiled back. “How about you, you okay?” He paused, listening for an answer. “You think you can come get us? Oh, and, uh, bring a ladder. Please.”

---

“Listen, uh-” you looked up to find to Cora standing in front of you. Even though the world as you knew it had pretty much changed forever last night, Cora coming into the library to find you was the most surprising thing today. “Derek says you and Stiles are the only reasons I’m still alive and, um, I don’t know how much of a help he was so I, uh, just wanted to say thank you.”

You moved your bag over so she could sit. “Well, I mean I was the one that technically saved your life. He just kept us from being mauled by the twins so …”

Cora gave you a small smile and sat down. “I’m not really good at this,” she confessed. “Making friends, I mean. But you seem like a good first time.”

You were going to make a joke about promising to be gentle, but you didn’t think she’d find it funny so you kept quiet.

“I know this is sudden but Derek and Peter are going away for a little while.” She looked down. “I was wondering if I could stay with you until they get back. I- I can stay on my own, if it’s a problem, but I didn’t really want to be alone again.”

“It’s not a problem,” you promised. “But we are going to have to ask my mom.” Cora nodded. “And she’s going to make you go to school.” She paled. “But I’ll help you! Seriously, anything you have a problem with.”

“I guess-” she took a deep breath. “That’s a part of being normal. And the only reason I’m not going with them is that I want to be normal so … when can we talk to your mom?”

Part 14