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small-teacup · 3 years

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Lukewarm

Chapter 1(?)

Notes: Yes, the song Remus is gonna sing is Lukewarm by Penelope Scott (it’s rlly good, you should check it out if ur into that kinda stuff :D)

AU: Band/Human

Ships: Logince (for now?), Unrequited Intrulogical

TW: Blood, water, scratching, sympathetic Remus, u!sides (for now), mention of coke (the drug), swearing, suicidal thoughts, screaming, crying, dirty jokes, mentions of sex

Let me know if I missed any please :D

Word Count: 1519

Remus grunted as he shoved his apartment’s front door open, carrying a guitar bag on his back. He looked over and vaguely saw a note on the kitchen counter. He didn’t even have to read it to know that his room mates had gone out drinking. Again. He sighed and shook his head, heading to his room. He threw his guitar on his bed, almost angrily, despite it being the most important thing he owned. He went to his bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror. There it was, his disgusting reflection. The accurate representation of failure. That same reflection that everyone had the misfortune of seeing when they met him. He could tell, they hated him.

And he hated himself just the same.

He turned on the faucet, letting the cold water pour over his hands and into the sink. He splashed some on his face before turning the faucet off. His wet hand found its way into his hair, running through it over and over. He shook the water from his face like a dog, rather than just getting a towel and drying it. Then he fast-walked to his bed, sitting down and leaning forward slightly. He stared at the carpet absentmindedly as he took his index finger and reached into his mouth, scratching the inside of his cheek roughly and slowly in one motion. He took his finger out and stared at it, the redness of blood diluting into a shade of orange from the water earlier. The metallic taste of blood seeped onto his tongue. Really, it sorta tasted good to him. He sucked on the inside of his cheek, enjoying the taste. What if he sucked all the blood from his cheeks? His face? And then all the blood from his body, coming from that scratch, and then he’d start shriveling up and-

No. None of those “horrendous, disrespectful, and obnoxious thoughts of yours” as Roman worded it. That was the whole reason he was kicked out of the studio tonight. So what if he said a few dirty jokes around Patton or kept putting Virgil’s bass out of tune? It’s just boring singing and playing songs with nothing else! The music they were playing wasn’t really his taste either, he was only there for the pianist, Logan. He played the keyboard so well…

But it didn’t matter. None of them mattered, not Roman, not Virgil, not Janus, not Logan. Sure, Logan had been the only person that's been nice to him, but it’d just go to waste soon enough. Soon, he’d hate Remus too like everyone else. Even if he didn’t, Remus would probably cut ties with everyone anyway. He thought Logan might have been the love of his life, the one he was meant for, the one he could maybe commit arson with.

But he was already dating Roman. When Remus found out, he wasn’t all that surprised, but hurt nonetheless. They looked so happy together...shared smiles, Roman always getting him chocolates every practice, the way Logan laughed when Roman told a joke. It sounded like bells, chiming with joy. And it was addicting. But as everyone says with every addiction, it’ll never be good for you. It’ll never be healthy. But this time, maybe it was Remus who wasn’t good for Logan. Him and his thoughts, his impulsiveness, everything about him. Everything was wrong with him, from his silver hair that separated him from his brother (he remembered his mother saying “If you couldn’t be like Roman, you could’ve at LEAST looked like him.”) to his very existence. Everything about him was wrong, and Logan didn’t deserve any of that. But that didn’t get rid of Remus’ desire to be with him. To go with him everywhere, to be his support, to be the one Logan trusted the most.

He’d have to be in a dream or a completely different universe for that to be true.

He rubbed his fingers together as he reached for his guitar bag, opening it and pulling out his beaten-up instrument. He scooted to the middle of the bed and held the guitar, putting the strap around himself. He strummed the strings a few times, trying to get a rhythm.

“...Keep talking but nobody’s there,” He started, thinking of more lyrics.

“The news used to make me cry every time, I’d rather cry than come tonight.”

“Can’t remember anything you say, slit your throat and die and wake up the next day.”

He decided that if he was gonna sing, he might as well make it about his problems.

He remembered how he used to go out and sleep with people to make himself forget about everything bad in his life. Sorta hard to forget about it when the bad things in his life were himself.

“I can’t even give a fuck in my dreams, oh what I wouldn’t give to care enough to scream.”

Usually, when he sang, he’d just make up random and macabre lyrics. He would make jokes about his miserable life. It’s not like he wasn’t doing that right now, it’s just...his emotions got the better of him this time.

“I wanna scream. I wanna run…”

His hands started shaking as he strummed the strings harshly with his bare fingers. You wouldn’t believe how true those words were, how badly he wanted to scream and run away as far as he could. Away from the city and to some place where he could start anew. Or maybe you would believe it. Who was he to tell you what you’d believe and what you wouldn’t?

“I’d die at 22 to feel alive at 21. It’s lukewarm..and stale bread.”

He strummed harder, somehow keeping the rhythm. His breaths became shallower as his voice rose with every second. He could feel the very familiar feeling of tears pricking at his eyes.

“I wanna put a magic bullet in my head.”

His knuckles started turning white from how tight he was gripping his guitar, as if it was the only thing keeping him alive. Which, in a way, it was.

“I wanna put a magic bullet in my bed.”

He grinned, albeit a bit too widely, at his joke. The tears blurred his vision as the first few drops slid down his cheeks. It’d become normal that he was smiling like a maniac but at the same time crying like he’d been told by Roman that he hated him.

Oh wait.

“Go to church and pray to live a life that doesn’t suck.”

“Snort coke, get FUCKED!”

His voice broke when he swore. He could feel more and more tears coming down from his eyes and dripping from his chin, falling onto the bed sheets. After he was done, it’d look like he pissed himself. That’d be something funny to laugh at later.

The grin he wore was slowly morphing into a pain-filled grimace. The tears didn’t seem to stop, nor did his hands from playing. They started bleeding, staining the metal strings a reddish-brown. He’d probably lick the blood off his fingers. The blood on the guitar added to the aesthetic, he supposed.

He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. He was basically screaming the lyrics at this point, full of heart-break and all the ugly emotions nobody wanted to acknowledge. Maybe that’s why Logan chose Roman instead of him. Roman was perfect in every single way. He was the star child, the favorite, everything Remus was not. He was better. Why did Roman have to get his way? Why did Roman have to steal everything from him? Why was he even created if Roman would always outshine him? Why? WHY?? WHY???!!x

“Read books and get laid.”

What was it with him and sex jokes? It was just a part of his personality by now, it was him. And you know how many people are disturbed and disgusted by that kind of humor, so that was fun. Even so, it helped him cope. Dirty jokes, sleeping with people, annoying the shit out of others, it was to help him cope.

“AND MAYBE GOD WOULD LET ME FUCKING DIE ONE DAY.”

He raised his hand and brought it down fast, strumming the bloody strings one last time. He felt a sharp pain as he looked at his fingers. The skin had been scraped off, and it looked like one of his nails was torn from the flesh. Maybe he should keep it that way to creep people out. Or maybe he should wrap it up, because being creepy is the reason why people hate him. It didn’t matter. He placed the guitar back in it’s bag and zipped it up, setting it against the wall.

He couldn’t help but hit himself in frustration, shoving his face in his hands as tears and blood trickled down his arms.

He sighed shakily and flopped on his side. He’d deal with the noise complaints tomorrow…

He tugged the blankets over him as he closed his eyes. He snuggled into the blankets, half-wishing it was Logan he was snuggling rather than a piece of cloth.

Taglist:

@mychemically-imbalanced-romance

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cassandras-nest · 5 years

Text

Breakthru - a side story.

Disclaimer: this is something i wrote on a whim..

Mostly because of this picture

My first language is italian so, please, let me know if there are any mistakes..thank you.

(No beta-readed at all, just a quick grammar check, sorry)

Hope you'll enjoy ❤

Also, part 2 of this is in the making, as well as part 2 and 3 of IM

______

This was your first assignment as a professional assistant on a real set. You worked mostly in theatres since you started, costume and makeup department, but a friend of yours helped you in having a bigger one this time.

A famous band was shooting some videos for their next album, so here you are on a Queen production nonetheless.

Yes, you did know Queen, who didn’t? You weren't a fan per se but you enjoyed their music and the latest album was quite spectacular.

On your first day on the field, you thought you would be back in the trailer, randomly putting away some stuff or helping around, but instead, here you were, several days later, fixing the makeup on each every one of them. They didn’t wear it much, just for cameras, a bit of fixing powder, black eye pencil and some lip balm, it was quite simple like you used to do on male actors on your previous job. You already did Roger and Brian, but not Freddie, he didn't let anyone do that really; it wasn't personal, you knew that, he just wanted to do it himself, but he was nice, everyone’s been.

You were left with John. In the past days, he became your favourite: he was patient and calm, he respected your work, as the others too, and he was a good talker, very intelligent and humble so you found pretty easy working with him.

- Mr Deacon, excuse me.- He was talking to another crew member.

- Yes? Oh, hi. What can I do for you, dear? - quickly turning around to you, a little surprised, but still smiling.

Always so polite...and cute. - your mind quickly corrected you.

Ah! stop that thought.

But you can’t...

- Can I have just five minutes of your time? I have to check and fix your makeup - you answered him smiling a little.

- Oh yes, sure..five minutes, an hour, anything for you - He answered, joking a little..making you blush.

- So, hum... How....how do we do it?- he asked then.

- Oh, simple..just sit down and I'll do all the work, no need to go back to the trailer- you said politely.

Yes, he was easy to talk to and very much polite, but you always had to remember that he was literally your boss and not one of your friends. Last but not least he was older than you so you owned him some kind of respect, you thought.

Sure, you can't help it that you find him rather attractive, charming even, more than the others, it was just much more subtle.

- Stay still a bit...please - you said firmly.

He simply nodded and you slowly inspected his face to see any flaws or where to fix..and he was watching you, in some sort of daze it seems, making your work ten thousand times more difficult.

You were gently re-apply the powder with a clean sponge the moment he spoke.

- So do you like it, I mean what do you think? - gesturing around himself.

You froze for a second. Did he really ask for your opinion on their video?

- Well...- searching for the right words, you truly did love their idea, and he was...well, that was something you couldn't tell out loud...at least not in front of him.

- It's a very original idea, truly... I can't wait to see the whole video, y'know - smiling while fishing out his black eye pencil.

- This makes me, I mean ..us happy, at least we’re still doing our job right - he answered with an adorable grin.

Why he is like this, why so adorable? - your mind was reeling

- Now, just another thing and I'll leave you be, eyes up - you ordered showing him the pencil.. - Yes, ma’am - mocking a salute.

Oh..and he’s funny too... - your brain was starting to fail you.

You were closer to his face, enough to do your job properly, but by doing so you could almost feel his breath on your face, at least his eyes were up, so he wasn’t staring you like before but it still made nervous.

You were here for a job, no need to be silly - you kept on thinking.

- There, all done, now I won't bother you any more, Mr Deacon - you said taking a step back..but he gently stopped you before you could go too far.

- Please, call me John..- he said sweetly, looking at you, a small smile on his face.

- Oh, ok...John - blushing a little, avoiding his gaze as best as you can.

He released your hand and stood up.

- Well that was fairly quick..and no, you wouldn't bother me even if you wanted to - He sincerely told you.

You could have been wrong, but you thought you saw him winking a little.

Probably just your imagination..

- All..right, I better come back now - Still a bit flustered, you started to make your way back to the trailer...

- So..well, thanks for your patience..then - you told him, smiling a bit.

- Always for you, love - he answered you, smiling even wider now.

Leaving him there, you still could feel his eyes on you while you walked back to the parking lot where the set trailers were. You, however, didn't know what to think, was he making a move on you or he was just being polite? Well extremely polite...

The whole shooting lasted the entire day, but they had to finish some other details on the next one...

You were packing your things up, ready to go back home, have some sleep and come back to work early the next day when a knock of the trailer door startled you.

- Can i...? - you heard a familiar voice from the trailer door.

Looking up, you saw him. He was still dressed from the shooting but without the waistcoat, just plain jeans and the white shirt, now with the first three buttons open but still with the sleeves all rolled up to the elbows, the sight alone made you blush wildly, suddenly stopping what you were doing.

Damn, how was he so beautiful?....but you can't...you couldn't think such things...- your mind reminded you.

You realized you were still looking at him, so you quickly thought of an answer.

- Hi, do you ...do you need something?- you hesitated a bit.

He stood there, casually leaning on the door frame, an amused smile on his lips.

You felt your cheeks become a bit hot, again - what an absolute idiot you were.

- Nothing, I was just..just heading home and I wanted to see if everything was ok, I think I have somehow embarrassed you before...- his tone calm and sweet now.

- I ...no, not at all..everything's perfect, really - you assured him, shaking your head, still trying to regain some sense in the meantime.

- So - he started - yes..alright, see you tomorrow then - a half-smile on his face.

Once more, you smiled at him, you can’t help it, you liked how you were feeling and how it was so easy with him.

- Yes! You can't get rid of me so easily - cursing yourself soon after saying that

why were you like this - you absolute fool, happy, but still a fool.

- I don't want to...i mean..that's the best crew we ever had...- he told you, matter-of-factly...

was he blushing too? - impossible, you were so tired that you were starting to imagine things.

- Well, that's reassuring...I -quickly correcting yourself- We take our job seriously - faking a bit of confidence

- I can see that....- he told you, facing you even more, a smile never leaving his lips.

- If there isn't anything else...I'll go back to pack so I could finally go back home too - you told him, trying to look him in the eyes now.

a big mistake, a very big mistake, now you were blushing even more.

- No, no...yes, everything's alright - he faltered - goodnight then..- lowering his eyes a bit now, nervously smiling.

his behaviour seemed a bit off to you, again, what was he doing?

not that you hated the attentions, you loved it but still..you just wanted to understand why?

- ok, yes...right, ‘night - you told him, your voice almost a whisper.

the only thing you were sure about was that he made nervous, but in a very good way..and that was a problem.

There was a moment of embarrassing silence between the two of you. He cleared his throat, like he wanted to say something more, but he started to back away, his eyes still on you, and then turned to leave.

You watched him go for a while, unable to stop, mostly confused.

he, on the other end, looked back at you a couple of times before reaching his car.

That night when you went home, you found yourself much more conflicted than you ever been.

you really needed a good night sleep...

_______

Tags: @bluewillowmom @iwanttoridemybri @deakysgurl @spacedust1124719 @acdeaky @catch-a-deak @stormtrprinstilettos @dontstopmemeow @mydeakydoesme @culturefiendtrashqueen @captain--americanna @babyzellodeacon @sitonmyhot-seatoflove @myguardianmailman @deacytits @deakys-chesthair @miamideacon @supersonicfreddie @bismillahnah @raven974 @chasingthespiders

A special thanks as always to @binkyisonline ❤

#my writing #john deacon fic #john deacon imagines #john deacon x reader #john deacon fanfiction #john deacon fanfic #breakthru #inspired writing #my inspo #writing inspo #probably this is so bad #i'm sorry

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