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dynamokota · 2 months

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Trouble Brewing - a short drabble with my Beetlejuice OC

Hardly any plot. Basically a drabble of Lydia's witchcraft lessons with my OC Elias Graves, with a little Graves x Beej (platonic and slight hints of a mutual attraction) at the end. Also on Ao3.

It was a few months ago that Lydia discovered some strange things about herself, things most 17 year-old girls didn't typically deal with.

In the year since her paranormal escapades, and after reconnecting with Beetlejuice, very strange and unusual things started occurring, and this time it wasn't ghosts or demons. Sometimes lights flickered when she was stressed, and also animals seemed to be drawn to her; like the stray cat who kept following her on the way home from school (who she named 'Percy' and took home after convincing her family to let her keep him).

It turned out that the paranormal events that occurred a year prior had awakened a dormant gene. A witch gene.

Lydia was a witch.

And while Charles and Delia were hesitant to accept this when a member of the local 'witch council' informed them of Lydia’s abilities (how this so-called 'council' found out about Lydia was a mystery; must have been a witch thing), they supported Lydia's desire to be a part of this world.

Lydia needed a tutor. And while most witches typically learned from their family, in this case, someone had to be hired for the job. It took a few weeks, but word got around, and eventually Elias Graves, a male witch in his late twenties in need of some extra cash, was hired for the job.

Beetlejuice, who enjoyed spending time with Lydia, wanted to watch her learn the magic he hadn't seen in hundreds of years, and wanted to ogle Graves (who Beetlejuice found, quote, "unbearably sexy"), decided to join Lydia and observe her lessons. He even began to form a fairly close friendship with Graves, despite the constant sexual comments and flirting from Beetlejuice.

It was hard for Lydia to believe it had been almost two and a half months since she started learning witchcraft from Graves, who she felt a sibling-like connection to, just like she did towards Beetlejuice.

“Now stir counterclockwise with a low flame for one to two minutes, or until the mixture thickens slightly.”

“Um… okay? How do I change the flame? I haven’t quite figured out fire magic yet.”

“Oh. Right.”

It wasn’t food Elias Graves and his student Lydia Deetz were cooking, but a potion. A basic one: an anti-poison, whether it was from food, toxins, venom, or other pathogens.

The smell filling the room in a thick mist was reminiscent of scented car wax; vaguely sweet and not unpleasant, but could give you a headache or make you nauseated if you stayed in the room too long.

The cauldron sat on a small metal stand, below which a green flame seemed to be emitting from nowhere. It illuminated the dimly lit room in a emerald glow, which made Graves's tired, pale face and sunken eyes look like eerily like a skull.

Lydia had her black-dyed hair tied back with her lace sleeves rolled up as a safety precaution, and as she followed Graves’s stirring instructions, Percy the cat watched the bubbles at the surface of the potion with curiosity. The shiny, dark teal mixture did as Graves said it would and thickened to a syrup-like consistency.

“Okay, it’s thickening! What’s next?” Lydia asked excitedly.

“One poisonous mushroom, any type, whole. I tweaked the recipe for use with fly agaric since it's local and what I could find at the witch's market.”

Lydia looked around for the large, bright red mushroom that looked straight out of a video game or cartoon. It wasn't with the other ingredients, and Percy couldn't possibly have knocked it off of the table.

“Uh… Eli? I can't find the mushroom.”

Graves looked up from the potion book (which was titled “Potions, Antidotes, and Elixirs for All That Ails You” by Ariadne Hargrove), confused at the question. He set down the book and looked around for a moment before he suddenly turned around and glared at Beetlejuice, who simply chuckled.

“Beej, I swear to God, if you keep eating Lydia’s potion ingredients--”

Beetlejuice laughed. “Sorry, Gravesy! I couldn't help myself! I was hoping it would give me one hell of a trip! As sexy as you are, your lessons can get kinda boring.”

Lydia rolled her eyes but smirked as the two of them bickered. This wasn't the first time Beetlejuice ruined a potion by eating the ingredients, and it probably wouldn't be the last. She had a feeling Beetlejuice did it just to get on Graves’s nerves, like a child at the playground with a crush. And Lydia thought it was adorable.

“So, what now? Do we go back to the market and buy another? I’d kinda like to finish this potion today.” Lydia asked in a slightly raised voice, trying to interrupt the bickering, as endearing as she found it to be.

Graves cleared his throat. “Um… No, I think it's too late at this point, sorry. The mushroom needs to be added immediately after the potion thickens. We’d have to make the potion base from scratch, which means even more ingredients I’d have to buy again, not just the mushroom.” Graves glared at Beetlejuice again, who just smiled playfully.

Lydia sighed. “Oh well. I got the gist of the recipe anyway. And I wrote a lot down too. I'm definitely better at taking notes here than at school.”

Lydia handed Graves the notes she took. She had written nearly everything Graves told her: The origins of the potion, what poisons it does and doesn't work on, and why a potion meant to combat poisoning used poisonous mushrooms as an ingredient; she had written ‘kinda like an antigen in a vaccine’ next to that part of the notes, which she must have realized herself, as Graves never made that comparison.

Graves read through all of Lydia's notes and gave a rare smile, which was a good sign.

“...Yeah, that’s good. And I never thought of it that way. Great job, Lydia.”

Graves stood back up and looked at his recipe book again while Lydia looked quite proud of herself.

“After you add the mushroom, which is now in Beej's stomach, it says you're supposed give it a quick stir, clockwise this time, and let it simmer until the mushroom breaks down and the potion is smooth again.” Graves stated, leaning against the counter with the potion book in hand.

“The whole mushroom breaks down? Like, it just dissolves into the potion?” Lydia asked concerningly, and noticeably inched a little away from the cauldron, as if the mixture was so caustic that it could burn a hole through anything it touched.

“It’s not like it’s acid or anything,” Graves reassured her (Beetlejuice let out a disappointed ‘Aw!’) “It’s just the reaction between the mushroom and the other ingredients; it’s not dangerous to drink. Well… no more than any other potion.”

Lydia almost laughed, but then she realized that, knowing Graves, it probably wasn't meant to be a joke. She hoped she'd never have to drink an anti-poison just in case it could dissolve her insides.

“Well, if we can't finish the potion, I guess the lesson's over, right? I think I'll head home. See you next week, Eli.” Lydia gathered her things, gave Graves a quick hug, and picked up Percy.

“You coming, Beej? Or are you gonna stay a bit longer?”

“Nah, I think I'll hang here with Gravesy for a little while. See you in a bit, kid.” Beetlejuice said as he flung his arm around Graves's shoulder. Graves rolled his eyes while Lydia smirked at them.

“Alright. Have fun, you two. Make good choices. Use protection.” Lydia said as she winked at them.

Graves groaned while Beetlejuice laughed. Lydia definitely started making dirty jokes more often because of Beetlejuice, to the dismay of her father (and the amusement of her stepmother).

“We're not--!” Graves began to protest before Lydia interrupted with “I know, I know! It's just a joke!” as she left.

Beetlejuice remained quiet for a moment before speaking up again.

“I think we both know I don't use pro--”

“Shut up, Beej.”

Graves tried to sound annoyed, but he was clearly trying to stifle a laugh, and his ears turned bright red. Beetlejuice was probably the only person that could make Graves almost laugh, as well as blush, which made it all the more fun for the demon.

“Aw, come on, Gravesy. You know you wanna.” Beetlejuice teased.

“Laugh? It wasn't that funny.”

“I wasn't talking about laughing.”

Graves rolled his eyes. “...You're a pain in the ass.”

“Heh, being a pain in your ass sounds pretty good to me!”

Graves let out another groan of annoyance, but playfully elbowed the demon in the ribs, though forcibly enough to make Beetlejuice recoil a little in pain.

“You want a drink or something, Beej?”

"Definitely. That mushroom didn't do shit.”

#beetlejuice the musical #oc #original character #beetlejuice #bjtm #beetlejuice broadway #beetlejuice oc #beetlejuice musical #graves and beej #ocs #bjtm oc #fanfic #fanfiction #drabble #beetlejuice musical oc #beetlejuice the musical oc #beetlejuice fanfic #beetlejuice fanfiction #writing

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whatgaviiformes · 2 years

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Hold Fast - Appendices

Well, Hold Fast is done, but the work is never over. I’ve spent so much time thinking and planning and researching (some of which gets thrown out in full transparency), that as usual I wanted to take some time to put together some Hold Fast research notes and appendices. The big one being the timeline... so jumping right in....

SPOILERS FOR THE STORY

Also if you have any questions while reading or after, feel free to drop me a line in my asks. :D

Appendix A - Timeline

No one has asked me anything around this, but I figured if I had one thing that would be asked it would be around the ages and timeline for the events.

First, I’m building my own world not trying to fit it in, so I’ve only highlighted certain aspects of the American Revolutionary War. There likely would have been a lot going on politically that I’ve completely chosen to bypass in the story. But for context, the Boston Tea Party took place in 1773, and the Declaration of Independence was in July of 1776.

So for ages - The thing to remember is that children began working young, and so Scott and Gordon both joined the ship when they were just 9. Benji was 10, and Elias was 24 when they joined the ship’s crew, so Elias would’ve been like an older brother figure to Scott, Benji, and Gordon. Elias was just 41 (super young!) during the events of Hold Fast and Gordon was 17 (practically a baby! *hugs the poor boy*)

I’ve kind of used the fact that the series doesn’t quite understand how much is reasonably feasible for someone to have accomplished by the time IR has started... and used it to my advantage. So all the boys have started their educations very early and excel at their fields of study

Highlights from the above:

1758 - Gordon is born, Elias and Benji join the crew

1761 - Scott joins the crew

1763 - Jeff’s wife dies in childbirth of Alan

1767 - Gordon joins the crew

1768 - Summer, events of “Lord Gordon’s Reel” (Gordon is 10, Virgil is 13)

1772 - DAD DISAPPEARS *GASP* (No, don’t ask me. I’m not telling yet)

1775 - Autumn, the rigging breaks, killing Elias (41) on impact with the deck and injuring Gordon (17). Detailed in “Hold Fast”

1776 - Virgil and Gordon spend spring in Charleston, while Gordon heals from his injuries. Ch 9 & 10 of “Hold Fast” AND in late summer Virgil is gifted a scrimshaw viola for his birthday. Detailed in “Oak & Ivory”

1778 - Main story

Appendix B as in Benji

So, full disclosure, this story *was* also a writing challenge in OCs for me. I had wanted to build the world a bit more robustly, and create some background around some of the names and faces mentioned so far. So, if you were caught up with the main story, you will have seen Benji’s name and no Elias. (sorry)

He’s older than Scott by just a few years, so they are close friends, even with the ship hierarchy. Scott calls him “Ben” during a private scene in Hold Fast, and Benji was there when Scott found out about his mom.

I need visuals, so the below is a heroforge miniature design of how I imagine Benji Lovell. It’s hard to tell from the below, but he’s got long hair that he keeps tied back.

He technically reports in to Gordon, the boatswain/bosun (it’s the same word, folks), but he spends the evenings with John as part of the night shift.

He’s a helmsman and shifts to deckhand work where needed, and he likes to listen to tunes and play dice in his down time.

Before he joined the crew, he was an orphan from New York, and got by on the streets swiping folks’ coin purses. This is how he met Elias, whom you will see him call Eli, only once during the story.

Appendix C as in Charleston

It was time I addressed my intents here, and I hope my reasoning makes sense. I just want to do right by the character of our boys and there’s so much wrong with a lot of our history.

Charleston was not officially called Charleston until 1783, but it was founded in 1670 and was a primary trading city. It’s considered the South, so for the sake of not ignoring important, awful events in our history, it was absolutely a site of the triangle trade. None of that appears or will appear in the story or universe. It’s important not to erase this era, and it’s not my intention to. But I can tell you now our boys would NOT be okay with the slave trade - in any universe. And addressing that in story... well it would be a different story. Navigating the truth of this historical period in a way that remains thoughtful and compassionate, and with transparency is something that I would want to make sure I am handling correctly.

I just want to put our boys on a boat, and yeah, I probably could’ve made a fully AU universe too, but I didn’t so here we are. So, they make their money off rum and sugar and cotton and fruits and stuff. Depends on how far they travel up and down the coast.

Willshire’s Boarding House is fake, but the street names Elliott and Church are real, as are the names of the rivers Cooper and Ashley. (I’ve never been to Charleston).

Appendix D - Other Historical Details

Yes, coffee was a thing. Post Boston Tea Party it was used in place of tea. Thanks, taxes.

The flag they use in the funeral for Elias was a flag of New England. It would’ve been dated a bit earlier from what I could find, but I didn’t want to go with symbols that were too politically leaning in this case, and I didn’t think they’d use the colors of Britain, nor was the first (even unofficial) flag of America declared at the time the events took place. The pine tree does still represent the ire of the colonies and was still a symbol of freedom.

If you are curious, here’s a site with some American flags - 1776, Grand Union was the first official flag

Music - yes, I look them up and research them to make sure they align with the timing. But I also take liberties knowing that stories and music may have existed via oral tradition before they were ever recorded or documented. “The Parting Glass” is a Scottish traditional song, written tune seemed to have come later in the 1780s, but it was printed on a broadside in the 1770s with threads of the stanzas as early as 1605. “Spanish Ladies” appears in chapter 1 - this is another with a bit of a later timeline. The name appears in 1624, but it’s believed to be more Napoleonic. It’s a British Naval song, and the stanzas recorded in its present format in 1796.

Gulliver’s Travels was published in 1726. It’s a satire

#Thunderteers Verse Appendices #Fic: Hold Fast #Hold Fast Spoilers

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wordsintimeandspace · 3 years

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All That Haunts Us (1/14)

Jon and Tim have seen their fair share of strange things while working in Research at the Magnus Institute. They still didn’t quite expect to rescue Martin, who has been missing for a year, from a supernatural encounter during one of their investigations. Together, the three of them hunt for answers and try to find a way forward, but they all have things that haunt them.

Meanwhile, Elias sees the perfect opportunity to set his devious plan into motion...

Jon/Martin/Tim, rated T, ~2500 words for this chapter. Read on AO3!

Tim plumps down onto the corner of Jon’s desk without much warning. After months of being friends with Tim Jon supposes he should be used to it by now, but he still startles a little, eyes shooting up from the book he’s been engrossed in for who knows how long. Tim sits there with his arms crossed over his chest, smiling down at him like he’s exactly where he belongs.

“Can I help you?” Jon finally asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, I hope so,” Tim says lightly. “But first, I brought lunch.”

He sets a sandwich down in front of Jon. Jon blinks in surprise, and only now notices the rumbling of his stomach and the empty desks around him as everyone else in his shared office has gone out for lunch. “Oh. Sorry, we had planned to meet up, hadn’t we?”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind eating here.” Tim takes a bite of his own sandwich, as if to demonstrate. Jon wrinkles his nose as he continues talking, mouth half full. “Reading anything interesting?”

For a second Jon hesitates - out of all the people in the Research Department, Tim might be the only one to agree with him that ‘The Architecture of Cathedrals in the 15th Century’ is actually interesting. But based on the look in his eyes, Jon suspects he has something more pressing to talk about. “Nothing too important,” he finally says, carefully prying the wrapper away from his food. “What did you need help with?”

“I’ve been working on a case.”

Jon looks up from his sandwich - spicy chicken and cucumber, just what he prefers - and frowns. “The one with the cat, right?”

Tim heaves a melodramatic sigh. “Yes, the one with the lady who claims her cat got eaten by, let me quote, ‘a six foot tall monster with too many legs and teeth’. As if that’s the only logical explanation for an outdoor cat to go missing in London. Never mind, oh, I don’t know, cars and foxes and all that.”

Even as he tries to suppress it, Jon can’t quite help the grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “You sound like you had a bit of a week.”

“Oh, you have no idea. I called every vet and the animal shelter if they’ve seen any unusual injuries. And then I’ve knocked on every door in the area that has a cat flap and asked them if their cat has gone missing in the last year, and I scoured every possible missing pet portal on the entire internet.”

“... and? Did you find anything?” Jon asks when Tim doesn’t continue.

Tim throws his hands up, exasperated. “Of course I found something. Do you have any idea how many cats go missing every year in a city like this, entirely due to natural causes?”

Jon nods. “Okay, I get your point. This still doesn’t answer the question of what you need help with though.”

“Look, I just thought... if there is a monster like that - and I’m not saying there is - it’s big enough to harm more than cats, right? So I looked for missing dogs as well. And then, while I was on a roll and because I was terribly bored, I looked for missing persons.”

At that, Jon raises an eyebrow. He knows Tim is an excellent researcher, thorough in everything he does, but that seems to go even beyond his usual rigour. “You can’t possibly tell me you found an account of a person being eaten by a monster like that. Surely we would have heard of it by now.”

“No, ‘course not.” Tim rolls his eyes, taking another bite of his sandwich before he continues. “This has nothing to do with that. But what I did find was a missing person’s report from about a year ago, and several accounts from the last few months that the building where he used to live is haunted.”

Jon stills, looking at Tim with a frown. “That rather sounds like someone is making a crude joke.”

“At first I thought so too,” Tim says. “But the reports on the hauntings didn’t mention that a person went missing there. And the guy’s address isn’t even public. They couldn’t have known. I had Sasha dig that up for me, along with other details on the case. You know Sasha, right?”

Jon nods - he doesn’t think he’s ever talked to her, but even he can’t escape the Institute gossip when someone transfers from Artifact Storage to another department. And he’s seen her around Research by now, in the last few weeks. “I- yes. But… what kind of ‘haunting’ are we talking about here?”

Tim shrugs. “There seems to be a bunch of evidence. Recordings of hushed voices and weird noises, something like rustling? Blurry figures in the shadows. Cold spots.”

“I’m not sure I would count that as evidence.”

Tim lets out a long sigh. “Don’t be such a sceptic.”

Jon frowns. “It is our job to be sceptical.”

“Yeah, sure, but you have to admit it’s a weird coincidence, right? That this building where one person disappeared is supposedly haunted since then?”

Jon bites his lip. He trusts Tim’s instincts. And he can’t deny that there’s something off about this whole thing, even if he can’t put his finger on it. It happens sometimes, that a case just feels… wrong, he supposes. That it comes with a prickle of unease and a shiver down his spine, in a way that is too familiar to ignore. He wonders if Tim feels it as well, or if he just - for some unfathomable reason - wants to get out of interviewing even more cat owners.

“What do you want to do about this, then?” he finally asks, and Tim’s face immediately brightens.

“I want to go view the flat. There’s a rent advertisement online. Perfect opportunity for a bit of snooping.”

“Okay. And you need me for… what, exactly?”

At this Tim smiles - a bit mischievous, which is his usual expression, but also a bit bashful, which is a rare sight for someone as self-assured as Tim. Jon can’t help but feel a bit nervous about that, and reaches for his long cold mug of tea.

“I need you to pose as my boyfriend,” Tim says calmly, and Jon promptly chokes as he takes a sip.

“What?” he finally manages to get out as soon as he can breathe again. His cheeks are burning, but Tim just gives him a sympathetic smile and a pat on the back.

“You heard me. Come on, help me out there buddy.”

“But… why?”

Tim lets out a long sigh. “Look, I first tried to be honest, but when I called the landlord and mentioned the Magnus Institute he swore at me and hung up. The rent advertisement is just the backup plan. I need you to be with me and take over the speaking to make sure he doesn’t recognize me.”

For a moment, Jon can only stare at him. “I still don’t understand why I’d have to be your boyfriend. Can’t I be your flatmate?”

“It’s a one bedroom apartment. He’s not going to believe we’re flatmates.”

“What about Sasha? Can’t you ask her?” Jon asks, a bit helplessly.

Tim gives him a long look. “Jon, I’m trying very hard not to be offended that you really don’t want to fake date me, but you’re not making it easy.”

“I- I’m not-” Jon splutters before heaving a sigh. “I- fine. Fine. I’ll do it.”

Tim cheers, even as Jon glowers at him. “Oh, this is fantastic,” he says, rubbing his hands together. “I’ve always wanted to do something like this. Can I call you a pet name?”

Heat rises in Jon’s cheeks. He tries his best to glare even as his stomach swoops at the idea, for reasons he resolutely does not want to examine. “Absolutely not.”

“Hold your hand?”

“No.”

Tim lets out a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re no fun.”

“This is supposed to be work, not fun.”

“I can multitask and do both at once, Jon.”

Suppressing a groan, Jon rolls his eyes at him, and decides to just move on. “When do you want to do this?”

“Okay, so, I need you to call to set up an appointment. We can-”

Abruptly, Tim stops. He goes still, the excited grin slipping off his lips. He’s not looking at Jon anymore, his eyes instead fixed on something behind him.

Jon whirls around in his chair, and startles when his gaze falls on Elias Bouchard, head of the Magnus Institute, standing in the doorway to his office. As usual, he is wearing an impeccable grey suit and a smile that never quite matches the piercing look in his eyes. Somehow, there’s always something unnerving about him, although Jon can’t put his finger on it.

“Um. Hello, Mr. Bouchard,” he starts slowly.

Elias’ smile widens just a little bit. “Jonathan. I’ve told you before, call me Elias,” he says smoothly. “And Timothy. Just the man I wanted to speak to.”

Tim winces and sits up a little straighter. “Of course. What can I help you with?”

Elias fixes Tim with a long stare that makes Jon squirm in his seat. “I had a rather unpleasant call with one Mr. Abbott earlier,” Elias finally says, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “He complained that someone from the Magnus Institute asked to see one of his rental properties to investigate a case.”

“I’m just doing some regular follow-up, Sir,” Tim says, a bit defensively. Jon finally looks away from Elias towards Tim, and watches the crease between his brows deepen as Elias continues.

“Of course. I’m sure you were perfectly polite, Timothy. Mr. Abbott, however, was quite clear that he believes an investigation like this will hurt his carefully crafted image. And I just couldn’t help but wonder why you were contacting him when you were supposed to work on the… what was it, the case of Mrs. Mitchell, I believe? Regarding the disappearance of her cat?”

“Err. Yes, I-”

“Are the cases connected?” Elias asks, a sudden sharpness in his voice that makes Jon flinch. Tim’s mouth twists, as if he’s trying hard to suppress a grimace.

“I don’t believe so, no,” Tim says hesitantly. “I just thought-”

“In that case, I would advise you to focus on the work you were assigned, Mr. Stoker.” The tone in Elias’ voice makes it very clear that he won’t accept any objections. Nevertheless, the smile on his lips doesn’t falter. “We wouldn’t want to get any more complaints, would we?”

“I-” Tim stops himself, letting out a sigh. “Of course, Sir.”

“Since it seems you might have gotten bored with the Mitchell case, I’m sure you have already conducted all necessary research and can deliver the report to my desk by this evening. Or am I mistaken?”

Tim’s frown deepens, but he doesn’t protest. “Sure,” he grumbles.

“Excellent,” Elias says, the sudden sharpness in his voice gone as quickly as it came. He gives them both a short nod. “Have a good day, gentlemen.”

With that, Elias turns on his heels and walks away. He’s out of sight as soon as he turns a corner down the corridor, but still, Jon can’t help but stare after him. Beside him, Tim lets out a pitiful groan.

“This evening?” Tim buries his face in his hands. “I had until next week to do the report. I haven’t even started it.”

“I’m sorry,” Jon says with a wince. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Nah. Don’t think so. But thank you.” Tim looks up with a small smile and stands, wrapping up the remains of his sandwich. “I’ll best get back to work if I want to have this done by five.”

Jon lets out a small hum, but he’s still distracted by what just happened. Again, he stares down the corridor, as if Elias might reappear any second. He can’t shake the feeling of his eyes on him.

“Are you alright?” Tim asks. Jon startles a little and looks back at him. Tim is watching him with a quizzical expression on his face.

“Yes,” Jon says hesitantly, chewing on his bottom lip. “It’s just… that was strange, wasn’t it?”

Tim shrugs. “Yeah. But everything about Bouchard is strange.”

“I suppose. But this was...” Jon hesitates. This was more than strange, he wants to say. This feels like Elias doesn’t want us to investigate whatever is going on in that haunted flat. But that’s a silly thought, isn’t it? Jon shakes his head. “Nevermind. Good luck with the report.”

Tim gives him a pained smile. “Thanks,” he says miserably, and finally shuffles back towards his office.

That afternoon, as much as Jon tries to go back to his book, he can’t quite stop thinking. He can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong, in a way that makes him jittery and anxious and makes it impossible to focus on the words in front of him. He stays late to make up for it, and when he finally calls it a day, the other researchers that share his office have already left. Jon puts on his coat and grabs his bag, and goes to check on Tim.

The door to Tim’s office is still open, although all the desks are currently unoccupied. Tim’s desk is a bit of a mess, filled with piled up papers and books and too many empty cups of tea. With their earlier conversation about the case still on the forefront of his mind, Jon gives in to the temptation to step closer and skim through the texts scattered on the desk.

It doesn’t take long until his gaze falls onto what looks like the copy of a police report. Carefully, he pulls the paper out from underneath a book. It’s undoubtedly the missing person’s report Tim has mentioned. The address fits to the area of the case he was working on. Jon starts reading, and immediately stills.

It hits him suddenly that Tim had never mentioned the name of the missing person. Sometimes, it’s easy to forget that there are actual people behind the cases they’re researching. But there’s the name, right next to a photograph.

In the photo, Martin Blackwood is looking directly at the camera, a small smile on his lips. Jon takes a moment to take him in - the pudgy cheeks covered in freckles, the sad eyes, the light brown hair falling in soft curls around his face. An actual person, with a life and friends and family who must wonder what has happened to him after he disappeared a year ago. Who maybe still have hope that one day, he will come back.

So far, Jon was only a little irritated that Elias intervened in their investigation. Now, he’s suddenly furious.

Before he knows what he’s doing, Jon pulls out his phone and takes a photograph of the report. He places it back on Tim’s desk and leaves.

As he walks to the tube station, he pulls up the address on his phone. He takes the train that goes in the opposite direction of where he lives, changes trains twice, and finally, half an hour later, steps out into the chill September air. By now, it’s already getting dark. Jon pulls up the collar of his coat to protect himself against the cold, and begins to walk towards the haunted flat where Martin Blackwood disappeared.

#the magnus archives #tma #tma fic #jonmartim #jontim #my fic #my fic: all that haunts us #it's heeere #my very first tma multichapter #and actually my longest ever fic #that I actually edit and upload #I have an entire rough draft done so I think regular updates will be fine?

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spookyboywhump · 3 years

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Hee hoo follow up to This

Not whumpy, just the aftermath of a rescue

CW: Past pet whump, dehumanization, mute whumpee, mentions of branding

***

Elias was nervous about his next case, however, there hadn’t been one so far that didn’t make him nervous. This one, this man had been found in terrible shape, chained up in a pitch black room, shaking and shivering. He was pale and thin, looking as though he hadn’t eaten in some time. He knew he’d been thoroughly examined and given time to rest first, thankfully he’d really just needed some food and water in his system, but now, it was time to actually speak to him and Eli could only hope this would go well.

He’d already talked to one of the people involved in rescuing the man, a person named Lane Thompson. They’d said that he refused to speak to anyone, he seemed scared and distant, which was to be expected of course. So far though, Eli had made good progress with the more reserved ones, Lane even asked him specifically to talk to the man because of that.

He sat across from him now, the man refused to look at him, keeping his dull blue eyes on the table. His auburn hair was messy and unkempt, long enough to fall into his pale freckled face, though he didn’t seem to care to brush it back. He hadn’t said a word, he’d barely even looked at him, but Elias knew he had to at least try to get somewhere with him.

“You… you don’t have to worry about your owner.” He said gently. He knew he wasn’t supposed to refer to them that way, but he also knew it was easier on the victims to use the language they understood- especially one as broken down as this man was. “He can’t hurt you anymore, and I, I want to help you. I know it’s hard but, if you could tell me anything about how you ended up there, or what he did to you, or if there were others, that would be incredibly helpful.”

The man simply shook his head, continuing to stare down at the table. He didn’t even necessarily look scared anymore, he just looked exhausted, defeated even, and it pulled at his heart to see it.

“Can you at least tell me your name…?” He asked. “If- If you can remember your real name that would be great, but, anything I can call you would work…” He said, but once again the man shook his head. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to speak, then thought better of it. He tilted his head up finally, looking Elias in the eye as he gestured to his throat, to a scar resting just above the worn out black collar he wore. He slowly, shakily drew a line across his throat with his finger, and his heart sank as it dawned on him, a threat he’d heard time and time again ringing in the back of his mind. “You… You can’t speak, can you…?” He asked, and the man shook his head.

He almost felt nauseous, but he forced himself to bury that feeling, to focus on the task at hand. He already had a notepad and a pen with him, the latter of which he hesitantly picked up.

“Can you write…?” He asked him, and the man seemed to think about it before nodding, accepting the pen as Eli slid the notepad across the table to him. “Just… write down whatever you can tell me, anything will be fine.” He said, and he nodded in response. He started writing, slow and carefully, like somebody still learning how to write. Elias glanced away while he did so, not wanting to make him feel pressured or anything, his leg bouncing anxiously though.

After some time the man slid the notepad back to him, and Elias took his time to read over the shaky handwriting.

My owner called me mutt. I was given to him when I was 27. I don’t know my age now. First master called me Doll. I don’t remember before that. I can’t speak. I can’t fight. I’m not pretty anymore. I won’t sell for much.

His eyes widened at the last sentence and he quickly glanced up at him, somehow able to stay calm though.

“No, we, we aren’t going to sell you.” He said. “You’re free now, we’re going to help you, okay? We want to get you home, and we want to make sure the people who hurt you can’t do this again to anyone else.” He explained gently, and the man narrowed his eyes, almost suspiciously. Elias saw him glance at the notepad again and he quickly slid it back over to him, watching as he began writing on a new page. It didn��t take long for him to hand it back, that odd look still on his face.

You won’t catch them. They’ll get out of it, they always do. He won’t want me back but his new dog he will. That boy isn’t safe.

“The boy… you mean the other young man that was found there?” He asked. “Do you know his name?” He knew Lane had already spoken with that boy, they were more likely to have gotten answers out of him than Eli would out of this one though- he hated his only options were to calm him “mutt” or “doll”, he sincerely wished he knew his real name.

Owner called him Elle. He said it wasn’t his real name but I don’t know what is. Elias nodded slowly as he read it over, taking a few moments to think about what he should do next. He wanted to ask about their “owner”, he hadn’t been told a lot about him but it was usually difficult to get clear answers out of the victims. After some time, he got to his feet.

“I’ll be right back, I need to talk to someone real quick. If there’s anything you want to tell me just write it down, okay?” He said, and the man nodded, seeming to think about it while he held the pen in hand. Elias left the room, taking a deep breath once he closed the door behind him, before setting off to find Lane.

He didn’t know them particularly well, he didn’t involve himself in the actual rescues just yet, but he knew who they were and the few short interactions they had were pleasant enough he wasn’t too scared to talk to them. After asking around a bit, he found them outside, on a break in the middle of the long day, sitting on a bench and smoking a cigarette. Eli tried to ignore the smell as he approached them.

“Um, Lane, can I talk to you…?” He asked hesitantly. “It’s about that one man you found, the silent one?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” They moved over slightly and Eli sat down next to them, anxiously picking at his fingers. “Has he finally said anything?”

“No, he can’t. He showed me the scar across his throat.” He explained, not even looking up to see their reaction. “He can write though, he seemed worried about the other boy you guys found.”

“Yeah, that kid ain’t doing too great.” They sighed. “He isn’t injured or anything, he just, he wants to go back.” It wasn’t the first time one of the rescues were found that way, it didn’t surprise Eli but it was still odd to think about. “He’s talked up a storm about the guy who had them though, I don’t think he even realizes how much he’s helping.” They laughed softly.

“Has he mentioned any previous owners?” He asked. “This one said he was given to this owner at twenty-seven, but he doesn’t know his age anymore so I’m not sure how old he is now. He doesn’t remember his own name so I’m not sure how well he’ll remember a previous owner…”

“You should try asking anyway. Even if they don’t have a name sometimes they can describe them, might help you figure out something. We’ve been getting enough from the other boy, you should focus on figuring that out, find out the previous owner and maybe you can find out how he got there to begin with.” They said. Eli nodded slowly, they sounded sure of themself and he knew they’d been doing this a bit longer than him anyway.

“Alright, That makes sense… I’ll try that, thank you.” He said, getting to his feet and starting to head back inside, but Lane stopped them after only a few feet.

“Hey, Elias?” They said, and he turned to face them. “If you think you can get away with it, ask him about a brand. Those sick fucks are always branding the poor things.” They said, and Eli had to repress a shiver.

***

The man didn’t look up when Elias entered the room again, he was absentmindedly doodling on the paper. He came and sat down across from him again, thinking over what he wanted to say carefully.

“So… you said that you were given to your owner when you were twenty-seven, right…?” He asked, and he nodded. “Do you remember who did that? Your first owner, do you remember anything about them?” He asked. “If you can, can you describe the way they looked too?” The man seemed to think about it for a moment, before he started writing. This time he wrote for a bit longer, at some points he even seemed to start smiling, something that made Eli nervous, but eventually, he handed the notepad back to Elias.

My master was kinder. He named me Doll, he loved me and I love him. If you can take me back to him I would like that but I don’t think he wants me anymore. He gave me away. He was very handsome, he was tall and he had dark hair and grey eyes. I haven’t seen him in a long time. He lived in a big house and he had a scary dog (not me, a real dog) and he always wore black leather gloves. Please, if you can find him, ask him to take me back.

Elias took his time reading it over, deciding not to tell him he wasn’t going back to an owner again. He had a sick feeling in his stomach, a horrible sense of familiarity, but he forced himself to ignore it.

“Okay… I’m- I’m sorry if this is invasive, you don’t have to answer at all if you don’t want to but did he… did he ever brand you?” He asked slowly, and much to his surprise the man nodded without hesitation. He got to his feet, still shaking noticeably, and gripped the hem of his shirt, pulling it up just enough that Eli could see the F burned into his hip, just above the waistband of the sweatpants he’d been given to replace the ragged clothing he’d been found in. In a way, it was more than enough confirmation for Elias, but he almost hoped it wasn’t true. It was selfish, if it was someone else that would take a longer time to figure out, a longer time to know who was responsible for this, but still, he couldn’t help it.

“Alright, thank you…” He said, and the man sat back down. Elias thought about it before getting his phone out, deciding to give this a shot. It was easy to find a picture of the man, he was well known enough outside of the pet world. He felt sick just looking at him, but he chose to ignore it. “This… this might be a stretch but that description… is that this man…?” He asked, holding out the phone to him so he could see the image of Nicholas Fairfax, and his stomach dropped when the man grinned and nodded.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Elias remembered something Nicholas had said to him before.

You remind me of my last pet.

#my writing #my oc’s #Wren #rescue stuff #plot stuff #:3c #pet whump #dehumanization #mute whumpee

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whumpingcrow · 3 years

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Pt.18 "Poor Thing"

CW: noncon (explicit, 18+ please), dubcon, blood mention, injury mention, multiple whumper mention, whumpee in a collar, death mention, captivity whump, panic attack, alcohol, verbal abuse, homophobic slur, creepy/intimate whumper, August is pretty foul in this chapter so general warning for him, slight dehumanization (let me know if I missed anything!)

August didn't want Elias anymore. That had to be what was happening. Why else would he not come looking for him, why else was he allowing him to be used up and abused by all these strangers in this room the entire night? It seemed like each time one person came in and did something to him, they would leave and tell someone else, and it felt like it had stretched on for hours, and still August never came looking for him. He felt dirty, sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed, covered in a sheen of sweat and tears and blood and people's disgusting fluids. His shirt was torn in some places, his shorts riding low on his hips, the only thing that remained perfectly intact was the collar around his neck, which someone had tightened further at some point and he couldn't figure out how to loosen again. August didn't want him anymore, so he was giving him up to be used by whoever else wanted to use him. And that was more painful than anything that had been done to him the last hour or two.

When the door opened again, Elias could have let out an anguished scream, tell them to leave him the absolute fuck alone and suck themselves off or use their left hand, but all he had the energy for was a hopeless flinch. He didn't even want to look up, a fire went shooting up his neck and through his jaw when he moved his head. He closed his eyes when the person approaching crouched down in front of him. Maybe if they saw how tired he was, they would take the hint and leave him alone. Instead, he felt a few slender ice cold fingers wrap around his wrist, slowly lifting his hand away from his body.

"I...I can't," he sniffled weakly, his voice wobbly and far away, "please. Please, I can't." He said it without much conviction, all hope that anyone would be able to understand him was long gone, and so his begging had been reduced to tiny, feeble whines, for the most part.

The person let out a soft hushing sound, then something cool and smooth was pressed into his palm. When he got up the courage to open his eyes, he was surprised to see a glass of water being pushed into his hand. He looked up at the person, at the young woman with wild orange hair and a round face that he couldn't find any outright malicious intent behind. She let go of his wrist, then tipped the bottom of the glass until it fell against his lips. He didn't realize how thirsty he was until the cold liquid hit his parched throat, and he guzzled it down gratefully. It tasted better than anything he'd ever had, he felt tears in his eyes at how grateful he was for it.

"Are you hurt?" She finally asked him. Her accent was heavy, her voice low and silvery. He could openly sob at how kind she was speaking to him, and the fact that it was in English.

"Oh," he breathed, his chin dropping to his chest as he relaxed from the stress that was turning his muscles to stone, "p-please can you find...can you help me find August?" He begged.

"I...I can. But are you hurt? You're bleeding." As she said it, she reached out with the skirt of her dress and wiped away some blood from his mouth.

"I'm ok. Th-think I got slapped a couple times." He took a deep, shuddery breath, then all at once realized she wasn't going to hurt him and he felt an overwhelming relief set in, one that tore a broken sob through his throat. "Oh god. Jesus fuck."

"You're alright. Do you have a name?" She sunk back to a sitting position, one that probably would be considered unladylike in her flowing dress, and watched him carefully. He was confused as to why she was sitting at his level, looking right at him, having spent the last few hours with people towering over him or suffocatingly close on top of him. He saw her eyes flick down to his collar, the tag there, but she didn't say Bunny, she only looked back up at him expectantly and waited for him to answer himself. He loved her at that moment.

"It's Elias." He cried, using the back of his hand to wipe the tears and sweat and grime from his cheeks.

"Ok Elias. My name is Camille." She hesitated for a moment, then readjusted her skirt. "Can I get you anything?"

Elias shook his head quickly, sniffing a few times. "Please don't leave me alone in here," he was rushing, pleading, "someone else will find me, please don't leave me here-"

"Ok, ok," she soothed, "I won't." She shifted a little, glancing up at the door nervously. "You...You’re not supposed to be here, are you? You have somewhere else you call home, right?”

Elias blinked at her, beginning to tremble all over. He thought about the truth, that he only came so that he didn't have to see someone die for the second time, someone that he loved more than anything. Suddenly he couldn't breathe, couldn't see anything, hear anything, besides Tyson crying, bleeding, begging him not to leave, as if he had a choice. He wanted nothing more than to be back in his arms, but he also knew August wouldn't just leave it at that, he would come back and hurt them both. He wasn’t worth all the pain and trouble, Tyson deserved better.

"I...I want to go home but it's not s-safe." He covered his face with shaking hands, trying to mute his frightened sobs.

"Why isn't it safe, Elias?" Timidly, she leaned forward, rubbing gently at his arm to try and calm him.

"August will hurt me... he'll hurt me and Tyson if I go back home. It's easier if I just stay here." Even as he said it, rushing the words out like he was afraid August would come and hear him speaking ill of him, his shoulders shook with his cries and he could hardly stay sitting upright.

Now Camille was silent, then she quickly pulled him against her chest and held him close, stroking through his unruly hair. The whines of despair he let out made her chest ache with pity, and she couldn't do enough to comfort him. She was so frightened for him, this was beyond what she was used to seeing, a person being kept in this condition. He was so torn up, so traumatized and haunted, and she didn't really want to think about what had been done to him before she found him. She'd heard others mumbling about a new toy in the other room, had heard “pet” thrown around a few times, but she didn't expect a person. And in this state, she could never live with herself if she just left him here.

"Listen to me," she began, using all of her might to keep her tone calm and even, "I'm going to help you. Where's your home?"

He was so tense and rigid in her arms, she could practically feel the conflict he had about telling her, he wanted to leave but he was so afraid, and she could feel his hopelessness starting to drip off of him and soak through her dress and onto her, too. "In Los Angeles," he breathed, "w-with Tyson Banks."

"Ok. I'll find him, and then I'll come back for you. Ok? Can you wait for me?"

He wept again, forcing himself to nod his head. He could wait, if it meant he could get back to Tyson, get home, he could wait.

She pulled away from him then, telling him that she would leave the room so that he could calm down. He felt better when she promised she would wait just outside the door for him, make sure no one would come in to bother him, and he could come to her if he needed anything.

The room was silent for the few moments that Elias was alone, and he could hear the laughter and loud voices of the drunk people through the walls. He couldn't comprehend how any of them could be having such a good time after seeing him in the state he was in now. He guessed that it was different to them, that it felt good to be the one in control, but he still felt baffled by it.

He didn't have much time to dwell on it before the door was swinging open. August stomped in, throwing a bitter look at Camille, who had foolishly just tried to convince him to stay out of the room. He shut the door behind him hard, then approached Elias with his face set in a frown.

"Where have you been?" He grumbled, taking in Elias’s newly disheveled state. "What happened to you?"

His tone was angry, and Elias realized then that August hadn't known what was happening, that what he allowed all of those people to do to him was wrong, and his lungs burned in newfound anxiety.

"I'm s-so sorry, August!" Elias cried, reaching up to grab at August's shirt to try and steady himself. His apology was desperate, despite how he couldn't force it to be very loud. He pulled himself to his wobbly knees with a huff. "I didn't want to do an-any of it but you told me...you told me I was made to be used and they wouldn't listen to me b-b-but I tried I t-"

"Shut up, Eli," August snapped at him, setting him on the edge of the bed and staring at him hard. Elias tried to sit straight, to not look so god damn used up and ugly, but he didn't think there was much he could do to pull that off, his grime felt heavily visible. August's voice was gravelly when he spoke again. "Who did this to you?" He looked over Elias again, shaking his head disdainfully at him when he was still silent, then snapped, "who the fuck did this?!"

Elias flinched, his eyes squeezing shut so he wouldn't have to see the strike he felt was coming. "I don't know! E-everyone! People just kept coming in and...and then when they left more people... I do-dont know!" He froze when August walked toward him, grabbing his shoulders aggressively as he did.

"What did they do?" Now his voice was eerily steady and calm, and he sounded bitterly furious, and Elias was shaking in every inch of his body. "What did they do to you?"

Having to think about it again, about the hands and the noises and the bodies and the constant breathlessness made Elias panicky again, and with an anguished sob he became pliable in August's bruising grip, subjecting himself to any punishment August saw fit. "E...everything." He cried, whimpering at how August's fingers pressed harder into the soft skin of his arms. "I'm s-so sorry!"

When August tossed him to the ground, he couldn't help the loud shriek of pain that he let out. He was already so tired and sore, he couldn't even peel himself off of the carpet once he was down. He felt...broken. Pathetic.

"You really are just a stupid fucking idiot, aren't you?!" August shouted at him, his voice erratic and full of poison. Elias had heard him angry before, sure, but he didn't think he'd ever heard this much fury in his words. He must have really messed up. Terror tightened around his lungs when August crouched down and grabbed the collar with both hands, yanking him forward until their faces were intimidatingly close and Elias could smell the alcohol on August's breath. "Does this mean nothing to you?! You are mine, you pathetic little faggot!"

He should apologize, he knew he should beg and plead and say that he was sorry because he was so disgusting and horrid, but he couldn't get any words out, he couldn't even breathe. He was completely paralyzed, aside from the horrible trembling, blown eyes staring into August's face as tears spilled down his cheeks. With hands at his throat and his windpipe uncomfortably crushed, he felt an icy dread, a realization that he wouldn't be saved this time, this time death would take him and keep him, and he was afraid. That girl, Camille, was going to help him, she said. She couldn't help him if he was dead.

"P...please, August," he finally forced out in a whisper, barely audible. "I-I-I’m so s-sorry, August. I'm y-yours, I know tha-that. Ple-please."

People were still laughing just outside. August was breathing heavily, Elias hardly at all, and for a moment, couldn't have been longer than one thud of Elias's wild heartbeat, August looked just as frightened as Elias felt.

Maybe it was how quiet Elias was, how he could barely get the words out, how horribly he was shaking and utterly unable to do anything to fight back or struggle, or maybe a combination of them all; but something about the way Elias was so pitifully shattered made August just...let go of him, dropping him back to the ground with a deep, tired sigh. He stood up, looking down at Elias as he curled into himself and choked out a few feeble whimpers. He stayed down for a few more moments, then he forced himself back up to his feet with a breathless whine, feeling August's interested gaze on him as he stumbled forward. August was waiting for him to topple over, with how run down he looked. He looked just about on his last leg, like a wounded beyond recovery animal that should be put out of his misery. August was starting to hate himself for selfishly keeping him alive in these conditions. Poor thing.

"They hurt you?" August asked, although his voice was only vaguely interested. Elias ignored the question entirely and instead nestled into August’s chest, not even caring that he didn't reciprocate the touch.

"M'sorry," he sighed heavily, closing his eyes, "s-so sorry, August."

With a disgruntled hum, August moved Elias away from him and started to undo the buttons on his shirt, watching him start to squirm, physically overwhelmed by the fear of being touched anymore than he had already been that night. He was silent, didn't have the means to beg August not to, but his body language practically screamed don't do this to me please no more I can't take it.

"Not gonna do anything, Bunny," August assured him, pulling his ruined shirt off of his slender shoulders carefully, "you're filthy, just gonna clean you off." Now that he was looking him over without the haze of anger over his eyes, he could really see how scared he looked, and he was appalled at himself on Elias's behalf. To be used and hurt and defiled by all those strangers, and here August had wanted to take it out on him, make him think it was his fault. Somewhere in his explanation he mentioned how August had said he existed to be used, he was only doing as he was told, how dare August punish him for that? And he couldn't be too sure, but he did sound remorseful with his apology, like he truly believed he was in the wrong, even though August knew he wasn't. Usually he loved when Elias was apologetic like this, but now it seemed to weigh so heavily on him and it was only depressing and bleak, not tragically beautiful like usual.

"I'm sorry I lost my temper with you," he said grudgingly, stroking Elias’s hair back and out of his face. His fingertips caught in a few knots and tugged just a little, and Elias flinched. "I'm just...I'm pretty drunk and I was upset that you'd disappeared."

Elias winced at the apology, like he couldn't handle the idea that August was in the wrong. "I told them I didn't want to. I said that you wouldn't like it, that I shouldn't, they didn't listen to me-"

"Angel," August cut him off, swiping at the tears on his cheek, "Elias, listen to me sweetheart. You're alright, I shouldn't have reacted that way." Elias whined in response, refusal to accept the obviously misplaced apology written all over his face. August could see the distant storm clouds of panic cycling back across Elias's face, in the way his eyebrows twitched and his eyes darted around the room, blinking furiously.

"N-no, I messed up. I messed up and I'm so fucking sorry I'm so sorry August ple-" before he could escalate back into hysteria, August pulled him into a tight embrace, swaying him side to side slowly. Every now and then a tremor made him collapse further into the hug, and he let out a small, pathetic mewl, and August wondered if it hurt to stand. Instead of asking, he just scooped him up into his arms and took him to the bed, holding him to his chest as he sank down to the mattress.

Because of the way he answered, August wasn't sure exactly what all those people had done to him, but it must have taken quite a toll on him, because within 15 minutes he was asleep, melted against the bed and August's chest heavily. August could feel Elias's fingers twitching slightly as he stroked his fingertips over his skin and through his hair melodically, telling himself it was just to make up for all the harshness of the past few hours, pretending he wasn't enjoying holding him so close and touching him so innocently.

He tried to ignore the buzzing of people just outside for a little longer, pretend that all the intolerable people weren't really there, drinking his booze and messing up his house like they hadn’t just put Elias through hell, but he had to slide out from under Elias eventually to get them to leave. He was glad that there were only a handful of stragglers left, all left with no issue. He poured himself another drink and forced himself to tidy up a little, but he couldn't find the motivation in his drunk, distressed state. Instead he went back to the bedroom, shedding his own clothes with exasperated grunts here and there, surprising himself by not spilling the drink in his hand.

He stopped in the doorway of the second guest room, observing Elias sleeping for a few minutes. He was still in the collar, his frail arms wrapped around himself to replace the warmth that left when August did. He wondered if Elias was really sorry, if he really believed he belonged to August, if any of what he said in his panicked or tortured states were true. He wanted it to be, he wanted his twisted pet to be devoted to him only, to need him, to ache for him, that was the point of all of this, wasn't it?

After he polished off his drink, he crawled slowly on top of Elias, watching him stir just a little before settling back into sleep. He kissed his nose gently, then his cheek, watching his lips twitch slightly when he kissed him there, then he let out a soft hum when August kissed his shoulder. His body was clinging onto sleep still, he probably wasn't even aware of the minuscule sounds he was making every time August's lips pressed into his skin. It was when his mouth was against Elias's rib cage, lapping at the rapid thumping of his heart and the uneven rise and fall of his breath, that he finally woke up, his hands dragging along the sheets until his fingers brushed against August's wrist.

"What are you doing?" He grumbled, his nose wrinkling as he forced himself into consciousness. He blinked a few times, looking fearfully up at August.

“I feel awful about what happened,” August mumbled, trailing his thumb down Elias’s sternum teasingly to his naval, “And I bet you none of those bastards even thought about making you feel good, huh? They all took whatever they wanted and didn’t think twice about you, right?”

A light blush caught on his tired face, and Elias had to tilt his head back because when August was looking up at him, so close, eyes hooded with alcohol and lust, it was too damn hard to look at him head on. He let out a soft sigh, too exhausted to beg August not to keep touching him and talking to him that way. "R...right."

"Poor thing. It's a damn shame, for them," he continued, "they don't know how much fun it is to make you feel good." He ran his palm the rest of the way down his stomach until his fingers latched onto the waistband of his shorts, tugging at them lazily.

"August I-" he began, but he was silenced as August reached up to hold his face. There was no use protesting, there never was. And August had been so unbelievably angry earlier, Elias didn't want to risk setting him off. He had to play it safe, he reminded himself, had to survive until Camille came back for him. He took his bottom lip into his mouth, could taste blood from the busted part of his mouth when he did.

"You can sleep if you want, Bunny. You just lay back and relax, let me take care of you." His finger trailed over Elias's throat, just above the tight collar he still had on, watching him quiver at the touch with a grin. Finally, he offered a reluctant nod, turning his head to the side in a sort of surrender.

August was still drunk, so it didn't take long for his touches to go from trying to make Elias feel better to selfishly toying with him. He had said Elias could sleep, but the closest he got to that was closing his eyes tight and pretending he wasn't awake, or there, or alive at all, feeling tears streaming down his cheeks. August didn't care that he was crying, in face at one point he leaned over and kissed a few of the tears away, whispering something of a lewd compliment in his ear.

Elias tried to convince himself that, despite how it felt, August using him like this was different than the others, better in a way. August knew him, there was some type of affection behind it, something besides sick lust. But even though he wanted to believe that, when his eyes were closed, August was just another body, taking what it wanted, making itself feel good at Elias's expense. Elias wondered if that's all he was, too, just on the other end of the spectrum, he was just a body to be used.

At one point, he really did fall asleep, his body too exhausted to stay awake, even more tired out from struggling against August every now and then. He lay under August, head tilted back and brow furrowed slightly, tiny whines and breathless moans were slipping past his partly opened mouth. August pulled off of him soon after that, pulling the blanket over the both of them, holding Elias close against his chest as he slept. Against his better judgement, he left the collar on, listening to Elias's weak gasps as he tried to breathe around it. He'd slip it off later, he just wanted to enjoy it for a little longer. That was his dynamic with Elias, after all, forcing him through pain and discomfort until it was too much, and then more, just for good measure. Through his drunken haze, August felt pride in his work, in how much he'd broken him down. All of the guilt he felt days ago for how much he'd hurt him was gone then, replaced by a warm and fuzzy fondness. He watched his perfectly trained pet sleep for awhile longer, than eventually the booze carried him into a dark and dreamless rest as well.

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blissfulbroadway · 3 years

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Alfred Nathaniel Hallam III Headcanons!!!

YES his name is Alfred Nathaniel Hallam yes he is a third no I do not take criticism

Childhood:

- Alfie got pneumonia as an infant. It messed up his lungs A Lot and affected his immune system and stuff as well so as a child he was constantly sick.

- He was in and out of hospital a lot and had a few surgeries so he was always on bed rest and isolated to everyone until he was about four years old.

- All of his medical issues caused his mum, Elizabeth Hallam, to dote on him a lot and suffocate him a bit. His father, Alfred Hallam II was the opposite and became pretty detached from being a father figure to Alfie.

- At a very young age, Alfred was introduced to stories since he couldn’t go anywhere. He was constantly reading in bed and learning often. Also his father made him study German just for funsies.

- His grandfather Wally, or Alfred Hallam I, introduced Alfred to Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland when he was three. Wally re-enacted the story to him in hospital a lot, and it inspired Alfred to fall in love with the story and take on the characters as his own. Wally got him his own copy after an especially difficult surgery, as well as a stuffed rabbit called Baby because he’s a three year old and it’s his little baby bunny :-) (he still ends up traveling with it as an adult and can’t leave without him).

- Around that time, his parents had his little brother, Elias (named after their mum) to be a backup plan or new start because they didn’t think Alfred would be much worth to them in the future. Yes they are shitty I know :/

- His parents have very very very high expectations for him because he’s now the older brother who has to do everything and he’s not their spoiled sick baby boy. They let Eli be a little shit and do anything he wants (like any little sibling but multiplied by like 10) while Alfie was expected to be the perfect child who dressed, acted, looked, and spoke the way they wanted.

- Alfie and his parents are very posh sounding because they live in Bromley, but he has a slight northern twang because of his grandfather. His parents hate it.

- When he’s four years old, after a long period of bedrest, Alfred is allowed to play alone outside, and he meets Alice. They refer to that day as their Golden Afternoon because it was the day they became the best of friends, and Alfred introduced Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland to her. (At first Alice was probably like Who are you and what are you doing in my backyard and Alfred is just SO EXCITED to introduce his favorite storybook in his entire existence so she budges and let’s him share his world with her)

- Alfie is a huge bookworm and while he adores learning and reading, his infatuation for learning mathematics (mostly so he could impress his father and maybe he would love him more if he knew “Big Kid Things” yes I know 🥺🥺🥺) manifested into an obsession with time, as well as the fear of being late or running out of time. He was surrounded by the idea of death from a young age and it influenced the way he thought about himself and what might happen to him if he didn’t listen to his parents. Their pressure brought out his anxiety disorder and depression at a very young age and it sticks with him throughout the rest of his life. His escape from all that death and sadness was Alice’s Adventures because he could always reset the clock at the end of the book and start again.

- When he’s five, Alfie spends some of his rich kid allowance on a copy of Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland for Alice, and in return she buys him a pocket watch a few years later. He adores it and never ever takes it off even as an adult.

- Alfred avoids his own home a lot and spends time with Alice in their conjoined backyard, playing pretend and acting out their story together. Sometimes, they spent the days inside her house (Mama Hallam is good friends with the Spencer parents, so she doesn’t mind them watching Alfie) and Alfred is well acquainted with Mr. and Mrs. Spencer enough where he considers them paternal figures...sort of. (Mr. Spencer is lowkey highkey Alfred’s bisexual awakening, and he’s one of Alfred’s first crushes; it doesn’t help that his own father constantly criticizes him and his interests or is absent from his life doing slimy rich man things. Daddy issues.)

- Mr. Spencer is a book lover (possibly librarian? Also sometimes professor :-)) and so he’s constantly discussing stories with Alfred and Alice on an intellectual level fit for the both of them. Most adults treat them like small children, so Alfred loves the attention.

- When Mr. Spencer dies in their early teenagehood, Alice and Alfred get incredibly attached to their storybook, and they find more comfort in it than ever. His death launched Alfred’s struggles with eating and sleeping, as well.

- This is one of the harder periods of time for Alfred, as he and Alice didn’t have any friends aside from each other. They’re incredibly codependent on one another.

- Mamie Van Eysen flirts with Alfred a lot during this time, but only as a joke. Either that, or she makes fun of his body and his personality—both in front of Alice, to make Alfred uncomfortable and Alice jealous. Other students bully him and Alice often.

- A lot of Alfie’s self image issues stem from this time, and his anxiety and depression worsen.

- When Alice’s mum dies when they’re fifteen, the pair runs away together. Alice almost gets assaulted, and Alfred wants to protect her. He gets into a giant fistfight with the older man. It’s bad enough to the point where the man is arrested and Alfred is hospitalized; it’s the hardest period he’s ever spent in hospital, even after all of his childhood issues. The police bring Alice and Alfred home and Alfred is banned from visiting Alice for a while. They communicate by speaking through the windows straight across from one another, or holding up signs from the window seats. While Alfred is healing, Mama Hallam is extra overbearing and critical to the point of being toxic and unhealthy for Alfred. His brother gets really mean around this time, too, as he doesn’t get the attention he once had. His and Alfred’s relationship get really rocky, and it’s never really mended in the future.

- The day Alice and Alfred can officially reunite, they never separate and they’re stuck at the hip from this point forward.

- When Alfred isn’t hanging out with Alice, he is at his grandfather’s hat shop, helping him stock or sell products. He puts his money towards a secret emergency fund in case he runs away again—this time without Alice. Alfred can never get past the front door, though.

University:

- When they reach uni, Alfie majors in mathematics and education, and minors in literature and statistics. He finds joy and love in his studies again, even if school itself affects his mental health.

- Alfred doesn’t want to be dependent on his parents, so he gets a job at a coffee shop and writes essays on the side for money. His caffeine addiction is dangerous at this point, and he often finds himself not eating or sleeping until it’s physically impossible not to take care of himself.

- Alfred puts all of his money towards renting an apartment with none other than Miss Tabatha Dedwin!!

- He and Tabbie are flatmates. Since Tabbie is best friends with Dodgy Dawkins, he meets him, as well. They’re friends for good after that, and that’s when Alfred starts to wind down, smoking with them, as well as his Alice.

Adulthood:

- After university, Alfred gets official treatment and is able to change his eating habits and caffeine addiction.

- Alfred learns about emotional support animals and gets a Giant Flemish Rabbit named Ollie to be his support animal. He’s giant and blue-eyed and looks like the spitting image of Alfred’s beloved White Rabbit. He’s a cutie.

- Alfred also did a little bit of gardening when he was getting treatment, and once he’s home he gets all sorts of plants and becomes a Plant Dad (with lots of research, of course!)

- In his mid twenties, Alfred finishes his extra schooling and becomes a primary school teacher. He blossoms into a happy, mostly healthy bisexual man with lots of plants and a sweet pet bunny and he wears funky disastrous outfits and has an amazing support system!!! (Alice, Wally, Tabs, and Dodgy :-) also Wally’s lover Denny the carpenter who comes out to Alfred when he’s an adult. He’s super shook but he gets even closer to Wally because they’re more similar than he believed)

- When he’s prob like 30 he goes to more school and becomes a university professor in the end of his years! Depending on who he ends up with he possibly has a few kids and a bunny and life is good!!! He’s teaching and learning constantly and it’s the life he’s always wanted even if his parents never accept his Christmas cards and his brother doesn’t answer his calls. He’s happier than he’s ever been.

- Also don’t tell Sage but when Alfie’s older his health problems catch up to him and he dies a relatively young death due to complications with his lungs :-( rip to my main man Alf

Little Headcanons:

- Alfie is the Biggest animal person besides maybe Tabbie. The ONLY exception is geese because one time he tried to feed a goose was brutally attacked by a goose and is afraid of them. He prob does birdwatching in his free time too

- Alfred’s fashion is HORRENDOUS @dodgefred and I made it up forever ago that he was a fashion disaster and ofc Colton’s costume...moving on. The reasoning for his fashion is he just picks pieces that make him happy that day and he sticks with it it doesn’t matter if he matches he’s just vibing.

- He reads his kids bedtime stories and he’s so devoted to being the father his own dad never ever was - When he becomes a professor it’s probably to teach Calculus and while his class makes people cry Very Often Alfie as a teacher himself is very very empathetic and comforting and yeah math is a bitch but he’ll take time out of his lunch breaks and extends his office hours way past the set time to help a student!!! He’s such a comfort to LGBT+ students and he probably has a few he discusses gay discourse in literature with (Tabbie absolutely introduced him to lesbian literature also also this isn’t a Tabs post but she stans Shakespeare :-)). Professor Alfie is the weird quirky prof. who stresses you out sometimes but also he goes on long tangents about his interests and how much he loves his significant other or children or baby bunny child Ollie!! He has so many plants and books in his classroom too it’s a Lot.

- Wayyyyy into theatre but he didn’t pursue acting onstage because his dad is homophobic :/ but he was in charge of lighting in school productions and fell in love with the stage

- He helps his friends study by acting out their textbooks for them and they always always ace their tests

- MUG COLLECTOR!!! He has so many mugs it’s not even funny his entire cupboard is taken over by them honestly

- Virgin who can’t drive

- Such a cursed and baseless hc I’m So Sorry but his first crush was the tomato from Veggie Tales

- Going off the last point he grew up in a Catholic household and he had one of those mums who was like you are Not allowed to watch tv unless it’s like. Veggie Tales or the Little Einsteins

- Alfie plays piano!!!! Also he did ballet when he was younger but he left because it was super bad for his mental and physical wellbeing and is convinced he’s a bad dancer because of his poor experience with the art

- Alice calls Alfred her Bunnie and he calls her My Alice/Allie/Allie Cakes

The end :-)

#alice by heart #alice by heart musical #ABH #abh musical #alice in wonderland #alfred hallam #alfie hallam #alice spencer #tabatha dedwin #tabbie dedwin #dodgy dawkins #this is the hill im dying on #thank you

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sebastianshaw · 3 years

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I realised that all of Shaw's ancestors have a biblical origin to their name, so what two biblical names would you choose for him? One for its meaning, and one for the way it sounds and suits him. I found out that Esau means hairy, it's a shame his uncle took that one.

Omg you’re right! I was going to say that Cornelius isn’t but I looked it up and it is! Guess Sebastian is the c-c-combo breaker! Ummm, I went through a lot of possibilities, but if we’re just talking two...Samson or Solomon? They’re Biblical, they’re something I could see a guy being named in the modern era (as opposed to, say, Nebuchadnezzar), they start with S, and they have a strong “sound” as well as being after strong figures---Samson is LITERALLY super-strong, he’s “hairy” in a different way, and, like Shaw, he was something of a “Puzzle Boss” who couldn’t be physically bested by ordinary means and his enemies had to figure out the trick to his super-strength. It might be a LITTLE too on the nose for a guy named Samson to end up being super-strong, but Marvel did it with Doc Leonard Samson. As for Solomon, he was a powerful ruler, incredibly wealthy, and holy shit HE FUCKED. Like. A lot. Goddamn. For a third, non-S option, there’s also Elijah or Elias, who was a total badass that took shit from NOBODY and ascended to Heaven alive in a chariot of fire. He was also described as a hairy man with a leather belt, so there you go. My concern with Elijah and Solomon is that from what I understand, they are important figures in Judaism, and common names in the Jewish community, so associating them with a super-greedy money-grubbing rich guy who is part of a secret organization trying to control the world is...probably NOT the most advisable of ideas, so I might ultimately go with Samson. Also I REALLY LOVE THE REGINA SPEKTOR SONG like it’s just HAUNTING. Others I considered, but did not make the cut: - Job : Went through a ton of adversity and still came out on top. Seems very Shaw. I feel like readers might read it as pronounced like “job” though. Also “Job Shaw” doesn’t sound right. - Silas, Thaddeus, Abram: No reason, I just thought they had “strong” sounds, even vaguely threatening/villainous. Like some names just sound a little more suited to bad guys than others. - Tobias: Tobias really does not sound strong or scary on its own, I actually think it’s sweet, but Tobias Shaw sounds a bit tougher somehow? But then you could shorten it to Toby which is definitely NOT a tough name, lol. Toby is a beagle name to me. It just is. That’s what you call a beagle. It just is. I couldn’t take him seriously with a cute name like that. - Jethro: Strong sound, means "abundance" so I felt like that related well to the empire he’s built and his decadent lifestyle. I knew a nice horse once named Jethro. - Eli: Means "ascension" which I thought fit how he started from impoverished origins and built his way up. I wasn’t sure it had a strong enough sound though. Shaw’s name NEEDS a strong sound. - Enoch: Means "dedicated" which fits his work ethic. It’s a little...esoteric though? Like I can see meeting a guy named Samson, I’d be a bit more surprised to meet a guy named Enoch. I feel like his name should sound...honestly, kinda like what you might expect an Amish guy to be named? I know that’s a weird way to put it, but---Cornelius, Esau, Jacob, Hiram, Obadiah, those are the names of his ancestors, you know? And I guess Enoch fits in well enough with them but hmmm just didn’t seem RIGHT somehow, idk. - Achim: Means "he will establish" and was an ancestor of Jesus. As with Eli, I thought it fit how Shaw built a fortune despite coming from nothing, but as with Enoch it doesn’t sound right. Like I think most people, if you asked them, would think it sounds Middle Eastern (which....technically all Biblical names are, but...) and I think the Shaw type of Biblical name should sound very “white” in a very specific way? Like not “McKayla and Aiden and Brayden” white but like...well like I said, a name you might expect from a Pennsylvania Protestant (which he is, or at least grew up around most likely) or maybe a hillbilly (which he is NOT but they stereotypically draw from the same name pool---Jebidiah, etc. ) And like Achim Shaw just...didn’t seem right, especially on him. Of these runners-up, I’d go with Silas. Actually, shit, I might replace the Solomon option with Silas! It also sounds extra-villainous to me because of the Gothic novel UNCLE SILAS

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ionizedyeast · 5 years

Text

(Whoopsie more Eli Bouchard stuff before work)

“Talk to him.” Jon says to Martin in the hall outside the archives, gesturing to the figure sitting inside the statement room. “He doesn’t know who to turn to and I can’t help him.” Martin gazes inside the archives and sees the figure of Eli Bouchard sitting in a chair against the statement table, his head resting in his hand, cradling himself as if he were suffering a migraine. A man who once exuded such confidence and charm was left crumbling and collapsing under his own weight of existing as a person. “I don’t know if I can help him, Jon. This isn’t really my area of, er, expertise.” Martin muses quietly, his voice strained and wavering. Truthfully speaking, he was still finding it difficult to see this man as anything but the monster of a human (?) that forced him to face his own insecurities. Sure, Eli Bouchard’s voice didn’t have the same level of smarmy wit that Jonah had trilled along with, but his voice still carried enough of the same weight. There was no risk of Eli creeping into his head and forcing Martin to experiencing the same thing again. “Listen to me, Martin,” Jon replies, nearly pleading, his hands on Martin’s shoulders. He is not gripping, but he is squeezing just enough to reassure his boyfriend (is what they were now? They still had yet to talk about what kind of relationship they had now. Not that Jon was opposed to the idea or anything. He quite liked it.). “That man is alone. And he needs to talk to someone who knows how it feels to be truly alone. And you know that better than anyone.”

And so Martin entered. And perhaps it was because he entered that he could feel the weight of being alone that surrounded Eli Bouchard. It was by no means the effect of the Lonely on him. Just a lonely man. There was no entity at play keeping Eli this way. He just didn’t have anyone who understood what he was experiencing. “Elias, er, Eli.” Martin speaks softly as he enters the statement room, his hand resting on the doorway. The lights are turned down low and Eli doesn’t look up, although his body shifts in just enough of a way to indicate he had heard someone come in. Martin stands in silence. Jon never specified what exactly he should talk to Eli about, so he had to read the room -- which was not exactly as easy as it was when Jonah was inside the man in front of him. Jonah you could rile up and get upset in the most obvious ways. Raise a little hell. Burn a few statements. Get him arrested. The easy things. But Eli was very different from Elias. It had been as if since becoming himself again, he went out of his way to avoid everyone. With good reason. Aside for those who knew the truth, it was much easier to hide the reality of things. “The Lonely doesn’t have me, Martin, if that’s what you’re concerned about.” Eli speaks up as he lifts his head from his palms. “And no, Jon wouldn’t know what to talk to me about either. That’s why he sent you, isn’t it? Because he thought you might know how to help a poor old man like me.” Martin’s lips purse. He doesn’t make a move to sit down, but he doesn’t exactly respond to Eli’s quip. He sounds argumentative and itching for some sort of fight. Which is not what Martin was here for. He pinches the bridge of his nose and finds himself letting his shoulders droop. “No, maybe it doesn’t, but that’s no excuse to keep yourself moping and avoiding people like you’re beyond being helped. You’ve already gone to Jon to talk enough times that you’re actively avoiding letting yourself be consumed by your solitude. So instead of moaning at me like you’re a lost cause, why don’t you just talk to me?”

“And just what will that do for me? Are you going to absorb my trauma and wring it out in the sink, and there we have it, no more depressed Eli Bouchard.” He sneers, his aging face actually showing his age for once. He was not lying about being a poor old man. He was getting older, and something suggested to Martin that he was actually much older than he appeared to be. Perhaps Jonah using him slowed his aging? Made him appear younger than he really was. Maybe without Jonah inside him, his age was catching up faster. “That wasn’t my intention.” Martin confirms as he finally enters the room properly, standing before the other chair, his hands grasping at the back of the seat. “But it’s not like you can speak to an actual therapist about this. What are you supposed to say? ‘Oh Doctor, you see I’ve had the spirit of a two-hundred year old demi-human inside me, using me as a vessel to initiate a ritual that will allow the essence of the fear of being watched to take control of the world, and I’ve only just gotten my body back and I don’t know how to live again.’ Yes, because that surely won’t get you any pity. They’ll just assume you’ve lost your mind and you’ll just wind up as a prisoner of a different variety.”

Eli stares up at Martin, something of absolute disdain and horror, mixed with humor crossed over the age lines of his face. Jon had been nothing but patient with him in regards to his need to talk about his experiences since becoming whole again. Martin’s hands grip tighter on the chair, perhaps braced for the possibility that Eli might drop another unnecessary clarity bomb in his mind. But he does not waver. He does not break eye contact with Eli -- who begins to laugh. It’s a genuine laugh. It’s not forced like Martin had half expected to hear should Eli begin to feign amusement.

“You listened to our tapes, didn’t you, Martin?” he asks, leaning forward, resting his forearms on the table, his fingers drumming in a rhythmic motion. “What did you think?”

“Of course I listened to the tapes!” Martin announces, almost irritated with the question. “Jon’s worried about you and that’s why he had me listen to them! You’ve still got Jonah inside of you! You can’t just talk to a therapist about that and you need to talk to someone, so.” Martin still does not sit, although the way Eli is sitting indicates that he would be accepting if Martin chose to kick back and stay a while. “So I’m here to listen instead. I wouldn’t know a thing about what it’s like to share a body with him, but I do know a bit about being manipulated by someone. On more than one account.” There’s a pause and he makes a point of scanning the room. “You also tried to bludgeon my...boyfriend? With a pipe.” “In all fairness, that was Jonah, not me.” Eli holds up a finger and quickly refutes Martin’s statement. “And why do you sound so uncertain. Anything I know about the Lonely tells me that someone’s really got to love you to pull someone out of there.”

“We haven’t exactly talked about it, but this isn’t about me and Jon, this is about you --”

“I’m not so sure about that, see, now you’ve piqued my interest.” Eli chuckles a bit but then raises his arms and then stands, his arms in the air. “Check me over, Martin. No pipe. No weapon. Nothing on me that could cause harm to anyone. Unless you count the lighter in my pocket.”

“Give me the lighter, Eli.” Martin says, holding his hand out.

“And what am I going to use to light my pipe with later? Twigs and some flint?”

“I’ll give it back when we’re done chatting, but I would very much like to have the lighter. Just, just as a precaution. I don’t know if Jonah’s hidden some kerosene in here and left you with the lighter as a means of setting this place on fire in order to teach us some sort of lesson.”

“You know the statements here are too valuable to Jonah --”

“The lighter, Elias.” Martin says again, sounding more firmly before Eli finally caves and removes the lighter from his pocket and places it within Martin’s hand. “Thank you, I’ll give it back when you leave but Jon told me you don’t seem to have much, er, awareness, when Jonah has you again.”

Eli adjusts his jacket again and sits down. “Martin, do me a favor, will you?” he requests, voice softening. Martin made a hum in response. “Don’t call me Elias. Please. That’s not who I am anymore.”

“Sorry, wasn’t my intention to use the wrong name.” Martin responds, lowering his gaze as he takes this chance now to sit down. Any of the tension that had been built between them had now since eased and he looks up at Eli from across the table. “Now, do you want to talk about it, or should we just sit here?”

“This is forced therapy, isn’t it?” Eli asks, seeming to have calmed himself a bit. “I don’t know what you want me to talk about. That I’ve become a flip-flopped version of what I had been before. Jonah Magnus is still inside me, but he just has less control. What am I supposed to say? That I feel alone and no one understands how I feel? Don’t you think I’m a bit old to be tossing around the ole ‘woe is me’ card at some sort of licensed counselor?”

“That’s not why I’m talking to you, Eli, and you know it.” His shoulders heave up and then down again. “I think. I think Jon wants me to talk to you as a friend. Not that I know you all that well, but I think that’s what you might need. Someone who you can talk to that isn’t Jon or a tape recorder.”

The laugh that Eli has at this point is bitter. “You want to befriend a cranky old man --”

“Eli!” Martin raises his voice much to his own surprise. “I am trying to help you and if you’re going to just dismiss me like I’m not worth your time then maybe you should just, I don’t know, let Jonah take over again. At least that way I could have a tolerable conversation with him, even if I did want to strangle him.” There’s a pause and Martin slumps in his seat. “I’m sorry, that was unnecessarily mean of me. I’m just, having a hard time myself with trying to establish relationships again. I spent a while shut away myself.”

“Preaching to the choir, boy.” Eli says as it’s evident he took no offense with Martin’s frustration. “You sure Jon didn’t send you to talk to me for your sake too? Perhaps a bit of solidarity between two men who have lost more than they cared to.”

“You might be right.” Martin says. “Even since coming back from the Lonely, I haven’t found it easy to talk to anyone again.”

“You see,” Eli says. “This is just as much for me as it is for you. You know, Martin, I know that Jonah did something horrible to you, and that Melanie girl. I know he wasn’t a good man. I know he did whatever he could do to keep you wrapped around his finger. And I know I can’t do anything to make up for this. But I can say I’m sorry. I can say that I’m sorry that I did that to you.” He gestures at himself. “I don’t know what he put in your head, I don’t know what he said, but I can ascertain a guess that it’s one of the things that caused you to spiral,” There’s a brief, scoffing laugh from Martin, although Eli doesn’t notice. “I’d make it up to you if I could.”

“Then tell me what’s on your mind. I might not be Jon and I might not be able to force you to spill your guts, but I’m a safe party to tell things to. It’s not like I’m going to use what you tell me to hurt you. If anything, I’ll try to help if I can.” He speaks before thinking. Was he lying? He was so used to lying to get what he needed that it was hard to tell himself if he was being disingenuous.

“I’m thinking I know how to get Jonah out of me.” Eli says, his voice bitter. “But I think that’s a conversation we ought to save for another time. Otherwise I’ll be raising quite a number of red flags with you, Martin.” He smiles, and while Martin was not sure of the how genuine his own words were, Eli’s smile is certainly authentic. However, Martin sights and turns his head back to stare at the ceiling. “You are needlessly cryptic, Eli. There’s no need for it.”

“Oh, it’s not meant to be cryptic. I just want to do a bit of testing before I share my thoughts. Would rather not cause any alarm if I don’t have to.” The smile remains on his face. “Now, Martin, if you don’t mind. I have to catch the 6:20 train back to my flat, or I’ll be stuck walking home tonight, and a nearly blind man walking home in the dark isn’t especially a good idea for me.”

“What do you mean blind?” Martin asks as Eli stands from his seat and begins to make his way to the door of the statement room.

“Do you really think Jonah was going to let me keep his eyes without some cost?” Eli asks, hand on the doorknob. “I’m nearly blind as a bat after I leave the Institute.” There’s a beat. “By the way, do you have Melanie King’s number? I wanted to run my theory by her before I try it myself -- Ah, right. No it’s in my phone. Jonah put it in there, didn’t he?” He then offers Martin another smile before he steps from the door. “Be seeing you, Martin. Or maybe not.” And as he steps from the door and makes his way from the archives, Martin scrambles, and calls for Jon. He’s quite sure this is not what the phrase “an eye for an eye” means.

#Being Jonah's Whale #tma #the magnus archives #canon divergent #elias bouchard #tma spoilers

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haberdashing · 4 years

Text

Curiosity

TMA fic, part of my Elias Feels series. Elias Bouchard and Jonathan Sims have an uncomfortable but ultimately helpful conversation.

on AO3

They were having another get-together. “They” being the weird gaggle of people who hate Jonah Magnus that Elias Bouchard had found himself growing closer to as he got used to living in 2019, that is. Georgie--who turned out to be Melanie’s girlfriend as well as her living partner, which wasn’t all that much of a surprise to Elias, really--had gotten over her cold, and they were celebrating Magnus’ death again, though this time Georgie and Melanie were hosting at their place.

Elias still felt like he didn’t quite belong in the group, for a couple reasons. For one, they all by and large shared a history that he was missing--two histories, really, one big picture and one on a more personal level. It was one thing to be told it’s 2019 now and another to catch all the new slang and jargon and references that had come to be since 1996; it was one thing to be told a tale of paranormal happenings and another to understand brief references and allusions to events and powers that he hadn’t experienced firsthand.

(Christ, he didn’t even believe in the paranormal--well, hadn’t in 1996. Even while working as James Wright’s personal secretary, and Elias had known well enough that James was a fervent believer in the supernatural, even before he’d learned that James himself was supernatural. The trick, one that Elias had honed over the years, was to get a handle on people’s expectations and preferences and follow them or flout them as best suited his own purpose, and with something as important as a potential career that often meant smiling and nodding and pretending he agreed wholeheartedly with his immediate superiors. Oh, absolutely, the supernatural is real, these statements are important, of course, now where am I supposed to file this one again?)

Also, while he had been absent for all that history, Jonah Magnus using his body had been all too present, and though everyone was at least willing to believe that he wasn’t the same guy, he could sense that it was still... awkward for them. Couldn’t blame them, he supposed, but he couldn’t help having the face and voice they associated with the asshole who’d ruined their lives, either.

It wasn’t too much of a surprise, then, that Elias was already literally as well as physically on the outskirts of things when Jon gently nudged his shoulder and whispered, “Can I have a word with you in private, Eli?”

There was something in Jon’s tone that reminded Elias uncomfortably of being taken aside by a schoolteacher after misbehaving, but then again, he wasn’t positive that that wasn’t just his imagination, that that wasn’t just Jon.

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

They navigated into a side room, Elias gently smacking Jon with his cane when he tried to guide Elias’ walking a little too much for his own comfort. (Melanie was a godsend, really. She’d been through a lot of what he had, knew the right numbers to call, the right doctors to consult. He was already starting to get comfortable using a cane, though he still missed his eyesight, much as he knew that losing it was the only reason he was still around at all.)

Jon shut the door most of the way behind them, though it didn’t click all the way shut.

“I just... learned something about you, Eli. I didn’t mean to, it just sort of... happens sometimes.”

Elias nodded numbly; he still didn’t have a clue what this was actually about, but Jon was clearly getting there soon enough.

“Something you did, specifically, except--I didn’t learn when exactly it happened, so I don’t know if it was actually you that did it, or...”

“Or Jonah Magnus in my body?”

“Quite.” Jon breathed in and out once, softly, before continuing. “If it was you, it- it’s really none of my business, I suppose-”

Elias considered making some remark about how from what he knew of Jon, something being none of his business wouldn’t necessarily stop him from investigating it just the same, but decided to stay silent and hear the rest of Jon’s statement out.

“But if it was Magnus, then I think you ought to know.”

“Right. Got it. So what is it you saw, then?” The way Jon had avoided mentioning the subject matter thus far led Elias to suspect that it was some kind of unsavory, but then, between Jonah Magnus doing all kinds of messed-up shit as him and Elias himself having done his fair share of poorly-thought-out things in his life, that didn’t really narrow things down.

“Well... let me start by saying it has to do with one Joshua Ritter. I don’t know if that name means anything to you-”

Elias could feel his face heat up, imagined that it was probably as bright of a red as Josh’s ginger hair, maybe even as dark as the freckles that were spread all across Josh’s face, across his arms, across every inch of his body, as Elias had learned first-hand when-

“Y-yes. I... I know that name. That was me.” Elias paused, considered further. “I mean, I assume it was me, depends what you saw I guess--but Josh didn’t care for the supernatural, I doubt Magnus would have any reason to, to do anything with him-”

“I saw the two of you... together.”

“You mean we were fucking?”

Jon made a weird choked noise at that, which Elias considered as a strange sort of personal success. Who’s the one feeling awkward about this conversation now, Jon?

“That’d be me, I imagine. Josh and I didn’t part on the best of terms, I doubt he’d have been interested in... doing that again.”

“I-I’m sorry, like I said, it’s none of my business really then-”

“I’m not gay, though. For what it’s worth.”

Jon had an awkward sort of cough that Elias half-suspected was feigned before saying, “Didn’t say you were.”

“I mean, I’ve had girlfriends before--Katie Sullivan in secondary, Annie White and Liz Culvert in uni, Sara Holmes after--I’m not gay.”

“First, that’s not actually proof you’re not gay, and second, there’s nothing wrong with it if you are. I mean, none of us are homophobic here--you know Georgie and Melanie are dating, right?”

“Yeah, and you and Martin probably go off and snog every chance you get, too, right?”

Jon made another one of those weird noises, having to take a few deep breaths before saying, “...guess I owe Martin a tenner now.”

“What, you made a bet about that? Seriously?”

“Martin bet me ten pounds that you’d figure out we were together without either of us having to tell you first.”

Elias snorted. “That was a sucker’s bet. I figured that out the night we met. You two aren’t as subtle as you seem to think you are.”

“Now you tell me...” Jon let out an exaggerated-sounding sigh. “You know you can be interested in guys without being gay specifically, right?”

“I mean, I guess I was a little bi-curious back then...”

“Never been a fan of that term, myself. Either you’re interested in a certain gender or you’re not. So if you had feelings for this Josh-”

He did. Oh, he did. He could still remember every word of the argument they’d had that’d ended in them breaking up, the way Josh had looked like he was halfway in between screaming and crying, slamming the door of Josh’s flat behind him and trying to pretend that his hands weren’t shaking, that he wasn’t on the verge of tears himself...

The ache of losing Josh had faded, as time went on, but Elias wasn’t sure it would ever fully go away.

“-and for those women as well, perhaps you’re simply bi, not ‘bi-curious’--or pan, for that matter-”

“Pan?”

“Pansexual. It means feeling sexual attraction towards someone regardless of their physical sex or gender identity.”

“Did you memorize that out of a dictionary, or did you just know the definition word for word when you needed it?” As Jon started to reply, Elias cut him off, saying, “It doesn’t really matter, I suppose, it’s just... it’s weird that both of those seem like real possibilities.”

“I feel like you’re trying to change the subject.”

“Look, it- it’s complicated, alright? I mean, my dad always claimed he’s fine with that stuff, but then he’d make a face and avoid it whenever it came up. I didn’t dare tell him about Josh--I don’t think he’d have, like, done anything, but... you never know, you know? Maybe I’m just not as brave as you and your- I don’t know what term you use for each other, boyfriend, partner, snog buddy-”

Elias was expecting Jon to make that awkward noise again, catch him off guard and have him stammer through a response.

Elias definitely wasn’t expecting Jon to reply gently but firmly, without even a hint of hesitation, with the single word “Husband.”

Elias’ mind reeled at the implications of that one simple word.

“Husband? Wait, you two got married--you can get married? Is that even legal?”

“It’s been legal since 2014, yes. Admittedly, our ceremony was a bit... unorthodox, given the circumstances, but it counts just the same in the eyes of the law.” Jon laughed a little before adding, “Things have changed since 1996, Eli, and not all for the worse, either.”

Elias sat there for a long moment, letting Jon’s words sink in. He thought maybe this group he’d found himself part of was just unusually understanding about... that sort of thing, but if same-sex marriage was legal, it couldn’t just be them, could it? He knew it was a different world out there than the one he was used to, but that... that was comforting, in a strange sort of way. Not that Elias saw himself rushing out into the dating scene any time soon, for a partner of any gender, but...

Elias shot Jon a weak smile as he said, “Good to know.”

#personal #my writing #tma fic #tma #tma fanfic #the magnus archives #the magnus archives fic #the magnus archives fanfic #elias bouchard

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leelee10898 · 5 years

Text

Fast cars and Freedom: Style (3/?)

Pairing: Logan x Ellie, Colt x Ellie

Rating: Mature, Ns*w content.

Summary: Ellie has a chance meeting with Logan in the club. Will she tell him her secret?

AN: I am having so much fun writing this, Hope you all enjoy the bits of fluff in this one... nothing last forever, and unfortunately the drama is coming! As always if you would like added to the tag list, drop me a line. Catch up HERE

Chapter title inspiration:

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He leaned in wrapping her up in a hug. “It's so good to see you Ellie.” she hugged him back, breathing in his scent. “Its ah. good to um, see you too Logan.” she stumbled on her words. “What are you doing in L.A? Are you living here?”

“What?” she shouted.

“what are you doing in L.A?” he shouted back.

“I can't. I can't hear you over the music.” she shouted again. He leaned in closer to her ear “I'm in the VIP section, it's a little quieter there lets catch up.” Ellie looked at Logan and back at the Bar, but Riya was gone. “I'm here with Riya, I can't find her.” she stood on her tiptoes. He nodded “I'll help you find her, she can join us.”

They looked all over for Riya when they finally ran into her coming from the bathroom. “Oh El, I've been looking all over for you. Dare text Marcus is running a fever, I have to go.” her eyes finally looking at the man standing next to her. “Logan?” she looked between Ellie and him, Ellie gave her a pleading look. “Yeah, what are the odds?”

“Hey Riya.” Logan hugged her.

“So Logan it was nice to see you again but Riyas got to go so.”

“You can stay Ellie. I'm sure you and Logan have a lot to catch up on.” Riya smirked. “I can take her home, I would love to catch up.” Ellie nodded, suddenly feeling extremely nervous. Riya leaned in giving her a hug. “Time to take the training wheels off kiddo. Call me in the morning, I want to know everything.”

Logan led her to the roped off area, sitting down at a private booth. It was just the two of them, she could feel her heart pounding in her ears. “How about a drink?” He broke the silence. “long island iced tea please.” Logan motioned for a waitress giving her their order. “Damn, that was fast.” She giggled as she sipped her drink the waitress just sat down. “One of the perks of VIP, no waiting.” He scooted closer “So Ellie. How have you been?”

She filled him in on graduating top of her class at Langston, which came with challenges. How she majored in accounting, minored in criminal justice. Her job closed down and she took a job back home to be closer to her dad. Logan told her how he went back to school and got his diploma, moving in with vaughn and taking a job with a racing company as a mechanic and pit crew. They put him in a car to do test laps and the bosses were impressed so they promoted him to Driver.

“Logan I am so proud of you, really. I knew you could make something of yourself. And you get paid to drive fast.. Legally.” She squeezed his hand and giggled. “Well, I owe it all to you. If you hadn't of pushed and had confidence in me, I would have never tried. I thought about you every step of the way.” He took her hand in his. She felt her heart skip a beat, after all this time he still had that effect on her.

“So what accounting firm are you with now?” He leaned back, the gears turning in his head. “Trinity. I was able to take my clients with me from my old job, But this place I'm going to need to step my game up. These guys deal with some A list celebrities.”

“You know I'm actually looking for an accountant. My agent was looking into Trinity anyway. It only makes sense now to choose you.” Ellie spit her drink out. “Logan, what? No. I couldn't possibly.”

“You can, I trust you Ellie, and I know you'll have my back.”

“Logan, It's complicated. I um, need to tell you-” she was cut off by a man in a nice suit approaching Logan. “I apologize Ellie, give me one second.”

She sat at the table, nervously picking her fingers. She looked around noticing a few women giving her dirty looks and clearly talking about her. She couldn't be his accountant, it would be complicated especially once she told him he may have fathered her child. “I'm so sorry Ellie, but I have to cut this short. My agent scheduled an early morning interview. But hey, give me your number.”

She rattled off her number. Logan sending a text with his own. “Come on I'll give you a ride home.”

They climbed into Logan's car and speed off into the night. “Feels like old times huh?” He grinned. “You have no idea.” she stared out the window, watching the city fly by in a blurr. “You still drive?” he asked.

“yeah, but not nearly as wreckless.” she giggled. Her mind took her back to the night they lifted the cars from the hauler.

*****

She felt so alive, so free, so rebellious. The feeling was Dangerous and sexy, she felt a fire igniting within her as she whipped the supercar through the winding mountain side. After they took the cars to the storage spot, the ride back to the garage was buzzing with adrenaline from all. Ellie hopped out of the suv and ran up the stairs to the room she was sharing with Logan. She couldn't stand still, it was like she was going to crawl out of her skin if she didnt do something.

Logan walked up the stairs to the room pulling off his white t shirt, doing pull ups. He watched as Ellie paced the floor. “I know that feeling, you're pumped full of adrenaline. It helps to find something to do to take the edge off, like pull ups.” He smirked as he jumped down. Ellie bit her lip as she watched his muscles flex.

“Oh, I know something to take the edge off.” she purred as she quickly closed the distance between them making short work of each others clothes. Logan lifted her up as she wrapped her legs around him, he kicked the door closed, it shutting with an audible bang.

Ximena looked at Mona and grinned. “Looks like somebody's gonna get lucky.” Colt standing right there. He grabbed his helmet and speed off on his bike.

Logan laid her on the bed, he kissed her softly his eyes met hers. “Are you sure?”

Her lips met his “I'm sure Logan.”

He smiled into the kiss as he slowly lowered himself into her. Her fingers digging into his back. He set a slow pace, relishing in the feeling of her beneath him His lips never leaving hers. The soft moans coming from her driving him wild as he picked up the pace, careful not to be to rough. He knew it was her first time, and he wanted to make it special for her. Her breathing becoming increasingly rapid, he held her close to him as he felt her walls beginning to flutter around him. Her moans grew louder as he gently nipped the sensitive spots on her neck. Her body began to tremble under him as she whimpered. “Its ok Ellie, I got you.” he breathed into her ear. Her fingers dug deep into his shoulders, her eyes snapping shut a burst of white light filing her senses as she came undone.

*****

A pair of bright headlights in front of them pulled her from her thoughts. “Penny for your thoughts.” He asked, noticing her mind was a million miles away. She shook her head and blushed “Just remembering something, that's all.”

“Hopefully something good.”

“It was.” She smiled at him softly.

Logan was the first person she had slept with. He was so tender, and kind about it. Before meeting Logan, and falling into that lifestyle, she figured she would save herself until marriage. But things changed, she changed.

Logan pulled up to her father's house. “Well, we're here.” She could hear the sadness in his voice. “yeah, we are. Thanks for the ride home.” she unbuckled her seatbelt, leaning over kissing his cheek.

He breathed in her scent, dulling his senses. He reached over softly cupping her face. He leaned in, his lips softly capturing hers. She hesitated momentarily before relaxing into the kiss, She pulled away. “Umm I should go.”

“Ellie, i'm sorry I just. I don't know. I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.”

“No, Logan you didn't. But my life is complicated and I don't want to lead you on.” she sighed.

“I understand. So I'll see you soon?” She noticed the hopeful look in his eyes. “Yeah, that would be nice. Good night Logan.” she climbed out of the car. “Good night, Ellie.” he smiled as he drove off.

Ellie walked into the Dark house. Her dad and Luca already asleep. She washed her face and changed into some pjs. She laid in her bed replaying the night over and over again. What were the odds that she would run into Logan? And the kiss, it was as if it were they never stopped. She needed to tell Logan the truth, and soon.

Over the weekend Ellie enjoyed some quiet time with her dad and Luca. Her nerves starting to get the better of her. Riya had stopped by with Marcus and Ellie filled her in on their night. Finally it was Monday morning, Ellie walked into her new office immediately sitting in on a meeting where her they introduced her. She was shown to her office, she was used to a cubical, this had a door. She walked in sitting at the desk, sinking into the chair. “Hello Ellie, I just wanted to introduce myself. Im Elias Manning, your supervisor.” she stood extending her hand. “Pleasure to meet you Mr Manning.”

“Ellie please. Mr Manning is my father. Call me Elias, or Eli.” he chuckled.

“These were delivered for you.” he handed her an arraignment of a dozen red roses.

“oh, ah thank you.” she sat them down on her desk, noticing a card. “Oh and also, congratulations on picking up Logan Rider, we have been trying to get him for months.” Elias grinned. Ellie's attention on the roses in front of her. “Oh, thank you. Wait. what?”

“I don't know how you did it, but Logan called the firm himself specifically asking for you to be the accountant handling his affairs. Good work Ellie.” He turned and walked away. She slumped down in her chair grabbing the envelope and tearing it open.

Good luck on your first day, You're gonna be great.

Love, Logan.

She picked up her phone pressing his name, he picked up on the first ring “You got my flowers, do you like them?” “They are beautiful Logan. You requested me as your Accountant!”

“I told you. I Trust you and only you to handle it.” He chuckled on the other end.

“Logan. I told you I can't do it. It's way to complicated.” she sighed.

“You keep saying that. Ellie it will be fine, don't worry so much. Have dinner with me tomorrow night, we can talk about everything then.” she couldn't see him, but she could feel the grin on his face just by speaking to him.

“Fine.” she let out an exaggerated sigh.” But Logan, we have A LOT to talk about.”

“I look forward to it. I'll pick you up at 6.” his voice so chipper she couldn't help but grin.

She hung up the phone, letting out a loud groan. The day flew by she had about half an hour left before she was done for the day when she got a text from her dad.

DAD: Got a call, the cars ready. Can you pick it up after work?

Ellie: Sure dad, send me the address

She grabbed a cab rattling off the address to the driver. She stared out the window, Logan heavy on her mind. Everything happened so fast, she knew she would have to try to at least track them down, but she figured it would take some time. Instead it was as if the Universe delivered Logan to her, maybe it was a sign, maybe he was Lucas dad and she wouldn't even have to look for Colt.

His name send an ache through her, she would be lying if she said part of her didn't miss him too. She missed them both, she at one time Loved them both, each for different reasons. She was so caught up in her thoughts she didn't realize the cab came to a stop.

“Miss. Miss. Were here.”

Tags: Permatag

@kennaxval @hopefulmoonobject @crookedslimecreatorpasta @be-still-my-aching-heart @ao719 @speedyoperarascalparty @riseandshinelittleblossom @cocomax @bobasheebaby @ownworldresident @cordoniaqueensworld @indiacater

ROD

@daniv2278 @brightpinkpeppercorn @lovehugsandcandy @going-down-downtown @mercyparkcrew @emichelle @annekebbphotography @powdesiree0816 @walkerismychoice @yesivefallenpreytothechoicestrap @zaira-oh-zaira @sweetest-marbear @simsvetements @zaffrenotes @professorortegasstudent @akrenich @ifyouseekheart @client-327

#ride or die bad boy romance #choices ride or die #fast cars and freedom rod au #colt x ellie #colt kaneko #logan x ellie #logan rod #rod au #riya rod

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writersblock2point0 · 5 years

Text

Twilight, Alec LS. Seeing Nightmares (Chapter 24-25)

Hey guys! Sorry for the long ass time to update. I’m on spring break right now, and I’ve had some time to myself. This is a little shorter, but I’m getting there!

This is set about two years after the last chapter.

Chapter 24

-Isadora POV-

It’s been almost two years since me and my brother’s birth and we now look about ten. My mom and dad are mates, as they’ve finally decided to get married. That was within a few days, and my mother was a nervous wreck. I tried many times to console her, try and get her to talk to me, but she just shoos me away and I find myself with Jane.

Aunt Jane was the best person ever! She always did my hair, told me funny stories about the other vampires here in the castle, and she didn’t mind playing dolls and tea party with me. We also looked alike, which I loved, because I admired her greatly. Eli says that I am a wannabe, but I’m not-I couldn’t be Aunt Jane, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t get tips on being a ‘true lady’ from her-or Heidi, but that’s a different type of lady.

“Mother’s worrying again.” Evander whispered quietly, both of us are pressed against the door, hearing our mother’s graceful feet pad against the wooden floor of her room. After our powers were shown to the three masters, Aro gave us each a gift-our own rooms. Mine was across from Jane’s. Evander and Eli shared a room, mostly just because they always wanted to be together. Their room was the last room down the hall.

“We should leave her be.” I whisper, glancing at Evander’s worried eyes. I took his hand, knowing he’s always been a little more soft hearted than Eli or me, “She’ll be okay-I promise.”

“How can you be so sure?” Evander asks once we got down the hall, and turned to enter his and Eli’s room. Eli was sitting on their bed, back against the headboard, reading a large black book.

“Dad said she was fine, just normal wedding jitters.” Eli sighs, sounding bored and not at all concerned about our mother.

I placed my hands on my hips, cocking my hip and narrowing my eyes at him. “You aren’t worried?”

“Nope.” He replies, flipping a page.

I growl, “Meanie.” I muttered as I walked out, leaving the two buttheads to themselves as I walked down the stairs, quiet as a church mouse, stopping when I heard my mother’s name. Pressing myself against the stone wall, I peeked around the corner to see Felix and Demetri both conversing with Chelsea.

“She’s been in her room all week.” Chelsea says, her voice light and quiet as she looks between the two. “She’s worried.”

“It’s her wedding.” Demetri rolls his eyes with a shrug, giving her a smile. “She’ll ease up after they say ‘I do’.”

“Not about the wedding.”

“I’ve noticed her...reluctance to feed with us.” Felix comments, making my brow furrow, what did that mean? Mommy wasn't hungry. So what if she stayed in her and Daddy’s room?

“I think it’s because she’s not showing a power...she thinks Aro is going to get rid of her.”

“But Alec wouldn’t allow that.” Demetri says, and I feel myself nodding. Yeah, neither would I, nor would Evander or Elias.

-Emberly’s pov-

I paced my room, one of Alecs silky black shirts around my shoulders. The collar was pulled up and I took long breaths of his scent, making chills run through me as I turned and paced the room some more. I was restless, and I wasn’t hungry, I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t think.

Alec wasn’t here, as now that I was a vampire and didn’t need 24 hours worth of protection and nourishment, he was back to his regular duties of the castle. I usually spent my days reading or playing with my children, but I haven’t seen them for a day or two.

I sighed and walked into the bathroom, maybe a steamy bath would help? Get some candles and roses? I turned on the water, turning it to the hottest temperature possible before gathering some roses and and placed small red candles around the bath and shut the lights out. I got my Iphone, putting it on the doc that Demetri got for me for a small little ‘newborn’ gift and hit the ‘bath time opera’ playlist I had.

Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven played, Nov. 14 ‘Quasi Una Fantasia’ to be exact. It was beautiful and I slipped off my clothing while locking the door. It felt nice, even though the water didn’t feel that different. I closed my eyes, smiling as my body and mind relaxed. It was silent for a moment before the door bursts open. I jumped up, covering myself as two guards came in, their faces covered by their cloaks. They didn’t speak, only stalked towards me.

“What are you doing?” I asked, backing away as they grabbed my arms. “Let go of me! Stop!” They dragged me out, and I was thrown to my knees in front of the three masters. My body was wet and I was dripping on the rug, my hair in my face as I struggled to get free.

“Emberly, child.” Aro says, and I look into his eyes. They aren’t red, but black. Completely black, as if he had black holes inside of his head. He’s smiling, his mouth splitting his face as his head tilts to the side. He steps forward, reaching out to hold my face with long claw like hands, however they were dripping with blood. Why?

“A-aro?” My voice won’t work.

He holds my head up, “We told you Emberly.” His smile seems to get bigger and the room is darkening. Shadows dance on the walls, and whispers are around me. His hand forces me to look to my left, and I see a pile of mangled bodies. I make out the faces of my children, and of Alec. They’re bloody and lifeless. I feel a sob rake through me. “You will lose them. All of them. They’ve left you, Emberly.”

I’m taken to the dungeon, and I was thrown into a cell and chained to a wall, it was cold and dank. The door shuts with a loud thud, and I can hear them. The voices, the laughter. The sound of scurrying along the stone walls. I can see them. The black figures walking and crawling around, stopping and staring with blood red eyes.

“Alec!!” I scream, my voice breaking as I forced the name out as loud as I could. “Elias! Evander! Isadora!” I keep calling but they aren’t replying. No one is there, no one is helping. I hide my face in my knees, holding my body as I sob and shake.

Chapter 25

“Emberly?” The voice is far away. I squeeze my eyes shut, not watching the shadows dance. “Emberly!” Hands are on my shoulders, shaking me.

My body is jerked, and on reflex I open my eyes as see my own reflexion. Alec was standing beside me, his face twisted into pure confusion. I blink, my chest heaving with unnecessary breaths. If my heart could beat, it would be at a dangerously high level. I hold my chest, not sure what is wrong with me. I look at Alec, his eyes never leaving me as he holds his arms out, as if he was waiting on me to collapse.

“Alec?” I asked, seeing he was alive, and perfectly fine in front of me. The image of him dead, along with my children was horrifying.

“Did it happen again Dove?” I nod, closing my eyes and allowing him to lead me to the bath. “It’s not the wedding that is making you upset, is it?” I shake my head, and the sound of his sigh hits me before the tuft of air that left him does. “You should not worry. You are my mate, you do not need a power.”

His hands are quick at bringing the robe off my shoulders, and I feel it fall to the floor. He mouths at my shoulder, teeth scraping along my skin. His arm wrap around my waist and pulls me close. “Dove, you must relax.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“The children are worried.” His voice is hushed in my ear, “Everyone is concerned, even the masters.” I resist the urge to roll my eyes, I doubted they were worried about me. He pats my hip with his right hand, “Come.” He gets me into the bath and starts to take off his own clothes. I look away from his body, not wanting to stare. He slips in behind me and holds me to his front. I close my eyes, letting my mind wander as the music picks up a happier tune.

He ran his hands over my shoulders, pressing into my skin gently. Being a vampire was so strange. On one hand, it made everything more enhanced, and on another, it seemed that nothing was able to cause me pain unless it was another vampire. If I were human, the amount of force Alec uses now would bruise me. Now, it’s almost like he isn’t touching me hard enough for me to feel him.

He places a kiss to my neck, “Dove, I promise you.” Tingles danced down my spine, and I sigh, looking down into my watery reflection.

“I’m sorry.” My voice was weak, throat raspy from lack of use. I hardly spoke to anyone, save for Alec and my little ones. I felt like no one would understand if I told them how I felt. I was not showing a power, which bothered me. The Volturi are known for the vampires having abilities. All useful abilities. What use am I to the only family I have if I do not have a power? I do not want to be a burden, and I do not want to make them weak. I want to be useful. Alec says he understands, but I feel that he doesn’t. Not really. He’s been one of the prise guards and assets of this coven for over a thousand years. He’s always been one of the most respected and highest members, so how could he understand?

“Hush,” Alec’s spoke in my ear after a long silence, arms wrapping around my waist to pull me back into his chest. The water lapped around us, the heat dull but somewhat there.

“I didn’t say anything.” I answer, turning so my head rested under his chin.

I feel him smile, “You were thinking too loud.” I hum, closing my eyes and allowing myself to drift off into an almost sleeplike state. Alec purrs, vibrating under me as he holds me closer. I’ve come to know that when Alec does this, it is a way for him to be affectionate, but also his way of trying to relax me and keep me content. A vampire thing, one I never really understood. He only purrs when we are together and alone, in a setting such as this.

#Alec #Alec Volturi #Volturi story #fanfiction #twilight #oc #Alec x oc #jane #fanfic

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spookyboywhump · 3 years

Text

Unrelated to the last piece I posted, here’s a soft drabble between Eli and Zander’s mother

CW: mentions of parental death, sibling death

***

He couldn’t sleep. He was staring at the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling, eyes burning but unable to actually sleep. Zander was asleep next to him, snoring as he had one arm thrown over Eli’s waist. He eventually felt he couldn’t lay there much longer, moving carefully to slip out of Zander’s grasp and get out of bed. He stretched his arms above his head before grabbing his jacket from where it was thrown over Zander’s desk chair, pulling it on for the comfort it provided.

He was quiet as he made his way downstairs, gripping the railing tightly on his way down. He’d found that going downstairs with only half his eyesight was difficult, he was terrified of falling. When he turned to head into the kitchen, and the connected dining room, he saw the lights were already on, despite the rest of the downstairs being dark. He hesitated, not wanting to bother anyone if they were also awake at this terribly late hour, but he thought better of it, walking into the kitchen anyway. As he did so, he could see over the counter, Zander’s mom, Valerie sitting at the kitchen table, a mug in her hands. She looked up when Eli walked in, smiling tiredly at him.

“I didn’t think anyone else was awake… is everything okay…?” She asked softly, and he hesitantly nodded.

“Yeah, I just- just couldn’t sleep…” He murmured. He got a glass from the cabinet, getting water from the fridge before going to sit down across from her.

“Is Daniel awake too?” She asked.

“No, he’s fast asleep. I was trapped under his arm for a while.” He laughed softly, choosing not to correct her on his name. She smiled though, seeming relieved that he was sleeping well at least. They both knew he usually didn’t.

“I know he’s changed his name, but it’s… difficult to call him that sometimes.” She said, and though he knew it was coming from a different place, it still was too close to things he’d heard before for his comfort. He tried not to show that on his face though, bringing his glass of water to his lips so he wouldn’t have to say anything. “I don’t think I would’ve minded if he’d decided it for himself but… knowing it was forced on him makes it harder…”

“Yeah… I think… I think that in the end, he did choose it though…” He said slowly. “He could’ve gone back but he chose to stay Zander…” She didn’t respond at first, and he began to worry that he shouldn’t have said anything at all, but after a moment she spoke again.

“You’re right.” She said, and he glanced up at her, not really used to hearing that in a genuine way from a parent, his own or otherwise. “He could’ve changed it if he had wanted to… I love him to death, I can get used to it for him.” She said, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“He’s really lucky to have you as his mom.” He said softly, hardly thinking before he said it. She seemed surprised for a moment, but happy to hear it.

“You’re a sweetheart, you know that, Elias?” She said, pausing to take a sip from her mug, a white ceramic one with sunflowers painted around it. “If you don’t mind, would it be alright if I asked about your family?” She asked, the question catching him off guard. “It’s just, you’ve never really brought them up. If you’re okay with it, I’d like to know more.” She said.

“I… uh… that’s fine…” He said slowly. He stared down into his glass of water, thinking it over carefully before saying, “Um… my mom passed away, when I was eighteen…” He started. “She was sick for a long time so I kind of expected it… my dad was never really around, he uh- he left when I was really little, but he did help me after she passed… I don’t talk to him anymore though, he… he usually just calls asking for money.” He said. He didn’t mind telling people about his mom, but he was always hesitant to bring up his dad, in fact his friends thought his father was dead because it was easier to say he was orphaned than to explain he was a greedy bastard who only cared about him now that he could benefit him. “I was mostly raised by my brother actually, but he passed away just before our mom did…”

“Oh… I’m sorry…” He didn’t want to look up, he didn’t like the look people gave him when he brought up his family. “That must be difficult…” She said, and he shrugged.

“It was, but… it got easier with time, and I… I don’t necessarily think family is just restricted to blood relatives… my friends, Zander, they’re my family too, and I love them.” He said, finally glancing up. “Zander, he actually- he reminds me of my brother a lot. He behaves like him, sometimes he says things that sound just like him. I don’t… I don’t want to place that role on him without his consent, but, I do- I do think of him as my brother. Not the brother I had, and not a replacement, but like, just a new part of my family.” He said, and Valerie nodded.

“An adoptive brother?” She suggested, and he nodded quickly.

“Exactly.” He said, and she looked almost amused, but not in that mean way that people often would when he said something strange.

“You know, I think he may feel the same way about you. I know that when I see you two interact, you look like brothers.” She told him. “I know that Zander always wanted a younger sibling. He was the only child I could have so we did plan to adopt, but things got interrupted when he… you know…” She said, “I think you’re the little brother he always wanted.”

He couldn’t help but smile, the thought of Zander feeling the same way towards him made him happier than he thought it would. He knew Zander had said he didn’t mind that Eli felt him and Everett were similar, but that didn’t mean he had felt that Eli was his brother, not at that time at least. He didn’t blame him for that, didn’t expect it of him, but now that they’d known each other for quite a while, grown closer and inseparable, a part of him hoped their relationship would be more than friends, more familial than anything else. If his brother had been his best friend, then he couldn’t see why his best friend couldn’t become his brother.

“I’m… I’m really glad to hear that…” He said. “I hope he does, it would be… amazing, actually if he felt that way. I guess just because of how long we were kept together, he feels like the closest person in my family…”

“I think he may be closer to you than he is to any of us now.” She said, and he felt a twinge of guilt at the sad smile on her face. “It’s not necessarily a bad thing though… I’m glad that he had you through that. And you know, I, Georgia and I, we are so, so thankful to you for getting him out.”

“I was determined to get him home as soon as he told me about you.” He said. “He would talk about you, Georgia, his friends. Sometimes even his dad… he didn’t have to say it, I could always tell just how much he missed you all. I’m happy I was able to help bring him back to his family.” He said, looking up as Valerie got to her feet. He figured she was just going to put her empty cup in the kitchen, but she stopped beside him, and for a moment he froze as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. He quickly relaxed though, not nervous or scared, entirely comfortable, entirely at home being held by her.

“You know, you’re part of this family too, now.” She told him. “You have been ever since he decided you were his brother.” She said, ruffling his hair as she pulled away, and it took all his self control to not cling to her, to not make that moment of affection last much longer.

“I… thank you…” He said quietly, his heart leaped in his chest, not from fear but almost, excitement, joy at hearing those words.

“Of course, honey.” She said, and he realized that he didn’t hate pet names when they weren’t being said sarcastically, condescendingly- or sincerely, coming from Nicholas anyway. “Will you still be up for a while?” She asked him, and he nodded.

“Probably… I’m… I’m not good at sleeping at night…” He said, and she nodded, finally making her way into the kitchen.

“Stay there a moment, okay?” She told him.

“Okay…” He could see her moving around in the kitchen, opening cabinets and moving things, though he wasn’t exactly sure what she was doing. He didn’t have to wait long, sitting cross legged on the chair and picking at his nails. He looked up when she came back though, and she set a blue mug down in front of him.

“I know drinking something sweet this late may not be the best idea, but I’d always make it for Zander when he couldn’t sleep.” She explained. “I don’t know how, but it always managed to knock him out.” She said, and he lifted the warm cup with both hands, the sweet smell of hot chocolate finally hitting him.

“Thank you…” He looked up at her and smiled, and she leaned down, giving him a loving kiss to the forehead before pulling away.

“You’re welcome. Try to get some sleep tonight okay, Elias?” She said, and he nodded.

“I will…” He brought the mug to his lips, instantly warmed up as he took a drink from it. She told him goodnight, and he stayed downstairs for a while after she left, slowly sipping his drink so as to enjoy it longer.

He hadn’t felt this way in a long time, the way he felt when his own mother was kind or gentle with him- loved, hopeful that the treatment and feeling would last longer than an hour. When he thought about it though, he somehow felt safer, more comfortable with Zander’s mother than his own, in the moment anyway. Valerie seemed to be a naturally comforting person, and he wondered if that had anything to do with Zander’s ability to provide kindness and comfort even when he’d been so scared of him at first

By the time he finished off the drink, he was feeling more sleepy. He got up and he washed his cup before heading upstairs, back into Zander’s room. He was still asleep, and Eli had to shove his arm out of the way to get back in his spot, though Zander was almost immediately clinging to him again, pulling him close. He moved his arm so that he could rest his hand over Zander’s and he closed his eyes, eventually finally falling asleep feeling happier than he had in a long time.

#not whump #my writing #my oc’s #wren #Valerie #soft.....#the title for the doc for this is #new mom new mom!!!

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startyourfuturerp · 5 years

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Congrats, Scoob! You’ve been accepted as Noah Puckerman. Please remember to follow everyone here, and send in your account within 24 hours!

ooc

name: scoob age: 26 (fun fact: i often have to check my own birthday to remember this bc time isn’t real) timezone: pst pronouns: he/him triggers: rfp past blogs: rfp

name: noah elias “puck” puckerman

age & date of birth: twenty two, 4/18

schoolyear: sophomore

hometown: sandusky, ohio

major(s)/minor(s): physical therapy with a minor in music

backstory:

Growing up in bumfuck nowhere already made a place like Ohio feel miserable enough, but having to do it with the reputation that Eli Puckerman left behind? That made it a whole new ballpark of hell. It was definitely some kind of dirt bag record that between all the local rednecks, beatniks, and losers, there still could be a man like Eli who could bring shame to his name. He had various identities, reputations, secrets, and enemies across the C’s of Ohio which made sense for a man with the brands of womanizer, abuser, con artist, gambler, and drunk following him where ever he went. But the treatment in good ol Sandusky was always much more fierce and fresh due to simple face it was full of a town both sick of his shit yet couldn’t seem to keep their attention off of his family.

It didn’t take long for the whispers to start of Eli Puckerman having skipped town on his wife who was as equally blind sighted by a pregnancy as he claimed to be. While some rumored it wasn’t even Eli’s, the most popular comment was it didn’t matter if the patriarch came back, because that child would still wind up as another kid Eli Puckerman didn’t raise. So it was no shock that the day Sarah was born, Ava told a ten-year-old Puck he had became both a big brother and the man of the house. She didn’t sound happy to say it, and Puck didn’t fully know what that meant at the time, but it would be one of the first times Noah Puckerman would step up to impossible odds. Granted, that was easier said than done when it came to a kid that hadn’t even grown out of his thrift shop Power Rangers shirt (however, the day for that came pretty quick).

While Puck wanted to due justice to the titles he had been given, he couldn’t help but be plagued by thoughts of what happened. Even with Eli’s inconsistency, as a kid, Puck always was ready for the days (or late nights) his dad would come stumbling back in from a bender, and when he did, it was a good thing. Eli was his son’s hero, and Eli could attribute that bit of good, underseved karma to the fact his kid didn’t know any better, yet. Instead of being a monster, he was the guy guiding Puck into manhood: teaching him the best rolling papers to use, which beers were for the right times of days, how to talk to women in way his mother didn’t need to know about… Noah and Eli had their own world. And once the man left, so did everything that had become Puck’s foundation.

From that point forward, it became more and more clear of all the signs his dad would have left them no matter what he did. No matter if his mother got pregnant or not. He started to find the faults in the memories of his childhood like the times he noticed Ava flinch when Eli was near and wound up, his father leaving at all hours only to return without explaining anything, his parents subtly fighting with sharp words rather than volume, the times Eli would remind Puck he needed to be better, the kinds of friend’s his father had and brought home… the list had no end in sight. Eventually it got to the point where it didn’t matter if these realizations came from his own memories, his dreams, by authority figures, or just random people on the street– there was always a new level of low the respect Puck once had for Eli could go. And once Puck’s childhood was shattered by all his continual thinking, he tried to do the opposite of that in order to stop it all together: acting without thought. It was because of his acting out and seemingly general lack of caring that he earned a new title his dad never had: bad ass (number wah). Though, like everything else, that title came judgments and looks which Puck pretended to not notice, but always did.

If it wasn’t for the relentless way Puck never backed down from a dare that made him the ‘man’s man’ among his friends, it became unquestionable when he lost his virginity before any of the guys in his class. Jewish summer camp had treated him well, with Puck befriending some of the older guys that had also been forced there by their Yenta moms. Rather than let a summer go to waste, they hatched up a plan to sneak in to the theater camp across the way. It was there that Puck got his first experience with sex, and while at fourteen it was a brag to of slept with a nineteen year old, the effects were everlasting in socially good (and emotionally damaging) ways. Though, if you asked Puck himself, he’d see only the fact it was was obvious he had another talent to go along with his bad assery: teasing and pleasing. This new knowledge led to him constantly finding new conquests and succeeding in that department. It only flourished once he started a local pool cleaning business, too. The thing about being scum meant he was also the bad boy fantasy women from all ages seemed to enjoy. His life style quickly found an unsurprising alliteration of boozes, babes, bucks, and bongs– which naturally had even led to bail bonds. Or would have, if he wasn’t a minor and thus committed to juvenile detention with no bail.

They were just minor crimes, and while he would often pridefully share his story at parties, he’d never talk about in therapy. However, one thing that did come of it that no one noticed: having jail time be a new common factor between Puck and Eli made Puck all the more determined to pass his classes. As well was bully others a little less so he could focus on his own self. It was as if failing at not getting his ass locked up, it put an emphasis for Puck to accomplish at least one he knew Eli had never done: graduate. And Noah Puckerman would be damned before that became his fate, too. Unfortunately, not being the most book smart guy, or being all that great at asking for help, resulted in a struggle on doing things the old fashioned way. Thus, sometimes that meant doing shady things, but Puck already knew the real world wasn’t as cut and dry for him as it was for most. Some people got to play teacher’s pet, and other people, ones like him, got to play teachers plug (not in a weird way). See, Puck thought about things his classmates didn’t: teachers had needs too. So sometimes he’d be trading a top shelf J to a faculty member wanting to unwind at a Josh Groban concert for an A in their class. It didn’t harm anyone, and Puck knew he had to succeed somehow. He wasn’t going to disappoint his mom, sister, or himself again.

With enough motivation and method to his madness, Puck was able to get his diploma, and it was even more satisfactory on the account of he knew he had practically no one who believed he could besides his family. The next issue was that he hadn’t quiet planned for beyond that. Puck had played on his high school’s basketball and football teams, but didn’t look in to a scholarship for them. Scouts didn’t go out to Sandusky just for shits and giggles, either. However, unbeknownst to him, Ava and Sarah had managed to take samples of Puck’s music abilities and sent them to colleges around the country. When Puck heard he had an admission to Ginsberg with a full music scholarship, it wasn’t expected but it was welcomed all the same. At least, after the girls had spent forever convincing Puck to actually go and leave them, promising they would be okay. And while he had been initially hesitant going somewhere so new and unlike home, it easily was the best decision he made. You know, besides that threeway with the Dean’s twin daughters and bringing his drug business to college as a side hustle to pay for the costs his scholarship doesn’t.

samples: rfp

#syf!accepted #syf!puck

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multimask · 5 years

Text

Session 7, Rundown

Gotta love it when your party's long rest is interrupted 3/4 of the way through and y'gotta restart it to get the benefits. Especially by tiny fuckers that remind you of Nac Mac Feegles but decidedly aren't.

Sooo, where did we leave the party last... Ah, yes! This motley crew were on their way to the Branis. The dead town of Branis. That was wiped out by a very deadly plague. That Branis. During the first full day of travel that direction, the weather wasn't great. It was drizzling on and off for most of the morning, and it was enough that the dirt trail they were on was starting to fill with puddles. As the group trudged on, River was fiddling with their heirloom box that they can't open. Not much was happening along the trail as the party worked their way towards Branis.

Until one of the puddles decided to leap up and attack our noble.

Turns out it was a gelatinous snake ooze type creature, and we were able to dispatch it thank to magic weapons being very magical and cutting (or smashing) past non-magical-weapon damage reduction. How exactly did it die... Ah, yes: "stabby stab & smash the snek. Elias blows it up." So we managed to take out the gelatinous snek after it did some significant damage to our poor noble sorcerer.

Who can apparently talk to spirits.

Because that's a thing he can apparently do. Because after we killed the gelatinous snek, a red wispy aura of some sort left its body and Ren's eyes went sort of blueish? It was all very weird, but he was able to ask the spirit for some information and relay it to us. The ooze was apparently performing its last service to its Master and also a Goddess? Apparently this Master had served this Goddess and was the only one of this group allowed to look upon the Goddess, but then the Master decided to begin tribute to someone else who was not the Goddess and so he and everyone under him was punished for this. I think? It was all very strange, what with Ren talking to spirits and then all this new information about yet another powerful entity (who we determined was not Queen Mab aka the Queen of the Winter Court - do not want to meet her).

The rest of the day was uneventful after that gelatinous snek. That's to say nothing of the night... The first half of the night was uneventful, but during the third watch, we were attacked by quicklings. Speedy little blue winter fey little shits.

Incredibly hard to hit, a group of six or seven quicklings struck at the middle of the night. It was hard to see them in the dying campfire light they were moving so fast. We were able to take out a couple of them, but the quicklings were more than a match for us. Did not like the fact that they seemed to have a special interest in Poppy and I once they realized we were aligned with the Summer Court (why oh why did I agree to that, dammit Poppy). A number of us were knocked out, and while River brought up Ren and Poppy was able to bring me back up to the fight (fey-given healing is so *weird* I shouldn't be feeling summer's warmth in the middle of autumn), there wasn't really anything we could do.

Ren, the only one left standing, told us after that the pale woman River had seen the other night scared off the quicklings and helped bring us all around. The mysterious woman's name was Aggie, and she was a local (druid?) who was fey and kept an eye on travelers passing through. She was unaligned in the Courts - not an easy thing - but was more familiar with the Winter court simply because they were more active in this area. We asked what she knew about Branis, and she told us that it had fallen to disease a while ago. Apparently the Winter fey in the area were also getting more rowdy, and their activity had also picked up around the time that Branis fell. Aggie suspects that the two might be connected. Whatever struck Branis, it was magical in nature, that much was clear. We're all exhausted and it's like 2am, so we try our hand again at a long rest with Aggie helping to keep watch before setting back off towards.

During the rest, Ren asks Aggie about troops that would have passed through a week or so ago. They made it to Branis, but were unfortunately there when the plague struck. Some were fine and able to move on past the town, so it's likely that whoever Ren is chasing down is still alive. River and Elias take up the next couple watches and make general small talk with Aggie. Candle takes last watch, is a stressed ball of anxiety, leaves camp for a short while, and returns as Soliana.

Late morning rolls around and we're ready to set off towards Branis. Because Aggie is travelling that direction as well, we're able to make it there a little faster than if we'd been travelling without her. When we get there, the town is enveloped in a sickly green glow, which is apparently what happens when the plague has taken over a place completely. (Is this something that's widespread enough that multiple locations have been taken over or is this just a educated guess based on Branis' fate...)

Ren and Poppy go in because none of the rest of us want to enter the sickly plague ridden town (I can't ever imagine why not...) They encounter a man who is disease-ridden yet somehow not dead. They learn from him (after Poppy putting him out of his misery and Ren talking to his spirit) that a woman had gone off on a pilgrimage and returned, but something wasn't right with her. She died in the custody of some local investigators who were trying to figure out what had happened, and the plague began soon there after.

Ren and Poppy wandered around the town a little more, encountering shambling corpses. When Poppy struck one down, its spirit was sucked to the north, which was not something that usually happened or that Ren had seen before. They found a soldier or two in the uniform of the troops that Ren was chasing down, but they weren't who he was looking for. They leave town and Poppy gives us a rundown on what they saw and learned in the disease-ridden town.

We move on and continue towards Stawford, where Aggie lives, and take up a couple rooms in the inn - Elis & Ren, and Poppy & Soliana - with River in the stables with their horse. In the morning, we all came down for breakfast, some less happy than others at the lack of running water and ability to clean themselves up. Ren was incredibly happy when Soliana waved a knitting needle his way and prestidigitated his clothing clean. Poppy was surprised that Soliana used some magic, since Candle hadn't shown any affinity for it.

Ren is so happy at his clean clothes, in fact, that he goes practically prancing out into the street in joy, and runs into some pilgrims just arriving in town. We see him talking with someone, and the rest of the party trickles out to join Ren. The woman who approaches Ren tells him that the group is looking to spread the word of their pilgrimage, and that it's apparently great for kids and family (what an odd bunch we must appear - a couple "humans" [Poppy & Ren(?) are the most human looking of the bunch but decidedly not human in nature], a half-elf, a wood-elf, and a tabaxi/sun-elf). The group that runs the monastery that spearheads this pilgrimage is called the Gathering of Unity, and the monastery is off to the north-east in the woods if we were interesting in visiting. Apparently, the journey is very spiritually enlightening, and those who go tend to then get sent to different towns and cities to spread the word.

This totally isn't suspicious after what we learned in Branis.

Something seems off about what the woman is saying, like it's rehearsed, and River is getting a sense of grief from her. She says that she's on assignment and is trying to get people to go visit the monastery, but her words seem forced and she's holding back tears. We glean a little more from her about what happens at the monastery - and that she'd not heard about the fate that befell Branis - before she excuses herself from us and scurries off. A quick casting of detect magic reveals that the small group of pilgrims are all just radiating enchantment magic. That's certainly relevant information, but we're not entirely sure what to do with all this new knowledge about the Gathering of Unity, Branis, and the pilgrimages.

#isa babble #session notes #nix's misadventures #candle's misadventures #soliana's misadventures #that was quite the session #freaking quicklings #can't wait to see what session 8 will hold for us #long poem

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