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reddogf13 · 3 years

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Scarlet marks ch5

Pennywise x Beverly

summery: who knew she would end up here? Beverly, having started her work in fashion as a young bright secretary under the older tom Rogan. now forced to sexually serve slimy old politicians under toms vicious grip for power and money. forced into following toms political flock to Derry. she runs into a familiar face, wearing a silver clown suit, out on a special hunt. (mainly smut

status: In progress

rated: M - fowl language, gore, and sex scenes ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

previous chap: Scarlet marks ch 4

next chap: TBA

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~ch:5 Twisted confession~

“Grey! Grey put him down! Stop!” Beverly repeated as she pulled on his arm, unable to budge his tall figure.

He let out a deep growling snarl before dropping Tom to the floor. Beverly taking the chance to separate the two. Leaving grey standing on the porch as she half dragged the coughing Tom into the living room.

“tom, let me go with him for tonight.” she whispered to him, getting in all she could before he would regain his breath and tell her to shut up. “we need the money right? I can get enough from him to last us a while. We can also use it for another business party. Let me go for tonight.”

his breath having been caught up, he glared at her before speaking roughly. “fine. Drain the bastard for all you can. Tomorrow I am calling in a favor to get him out of my town!”

she nodded with a sigh of relief. Rushing off to meet grey on the porch to close the front door and rush him down the steps away from the house. “you shouldn't have done that!” scolding him along the way.

“why not?!” he questioned. “you shouldn't have even stopped me. Why have him stay alive?”

“because I need him to take care of me!”

“HA! He hardly does that!”

“better then nothing and being left for dead on the street. I don't have anyone else in my life!” she heard him huff behind her on their way to his car. She assumed it was from out of annoyance that she didn't let him eat tom. Their talk going silent to heavy rain fall having them rush into the car. Beverly brushing her hair out of her face and straightening the wet locks the best she could to look somewhat nice after being drenched.

The drive was short to a lovely restaurant where they sat at a table warmed by a nearby fireplace. Their night starting with a nice wine and simple starter a large charcuterie board to share. She took most the fruit and cheeses while he ate the meats.

“why wont you leave Tom?” he interrupted the relaxed mood between them.

She closed her eyes to gain some mental energy for the argument ahead. Swallowing the current bite of food she had chewed through. “like I said, he takes care of me. I cant just up an leave either.” wanting the conversation to end there.

“why?”

“what do you mean why?”

“i can take care of you.”

his statement had her letting out a awkward chuckle. Dropping the smile on her face at seeing how serious his was. Staring at her unblinking in an expression of confusion mixed agitation. “... what about when you get bored?”

“what?”

“what happens when you get bored of me?” repeating her question. “What if I get too tired to do what you want? what happens if you find another girl you like more?” she continued. “When what you want changes, what will happen to me?” taking a sip of wine. “this is all thrilling … for now, but what about when a month passes? Or three? This isn't the first time I've had promise's of “being taken care of” by someone other then tom. You'll move on to do something else and I'll still have Tom. That's how my work goes, that's my life and nothing changes.” shrugging it all off to continue eating.

He didn't say much else after that, however his actions were speaking louder. Flooding the table with fancy orders that Beverly wasn't sure to do with. She ate from a few of the dishes as he kept up that locked on stare with a wide smile. Her eating slowed as her discomfort grew. She thought on why he was doing it. “hoping I'll runaway with him or showing off?” not thinking too long on it.

Full of good food they left together with another bottle of wine. Rushing back to the car through the lightly pouring rain. Beverly taking time to straighten out her hair again in the car. He turned to her with a smile “love the dinner? Want to go relax somewhere else before returning to the wagon?”

“sure, but where?”

“the peak, park up there and enjoy the view with our other bottle of wine.”

“heh, sure, clown.” chuckling in doubt that they were going there to enjoy the view. Relaxing the whole drive up to the lonely parking lot topping a steep hill. Looking out to the lights of Derry shining through the falling rain tapping along the car. The ferris wheel still spinning brightly as it wasn't yet time for the fair to close. Grey giving her a glass to pour the freshly opened bottle of wine into. Sipping their glasses in relaxing in the car. Both deciding to sit closer in the back seat wrapped closely together in greys jacket for warmth.

“so why was Tom in such a snippity mood today? If I offer high enough he just accepts my offer.” sipping on some wine. “Someone cancel today?”

“the political hunting trip took a nose dive when a bear came along.”

“oooh, sucks for them.” he snickered.

She thought to herself. “what extreme bad luck.” all those men taken out by one bear. “left food around and didn't see the bear coming?” she wondered. “they don't tend to walk without younger help though. They must get tired hoisting their guns and ammo around the forest.” taking a sip of wine. “my costumers seem to always have the worst bad luck. All disappeared over time after I arrived. Pennywise killed that one group a week ago. Now this group was eaten by-” her mind linking together that these events may not have such different circumstances.

Peeking at grey pouring the last bit of wine in his glass down into his wide open mouth. “no, couldn't be him the whole time.” she thought. “he started visiting me a while after my flow of customers slowed.” but his words from when they first started meeting came forth. “he'd been scanning the streets for a while. And only seriously as of recent.” but why? Her mind brought up. “because I arrived?” sipping some wine in thought.

“grey.” she spoke his name to catch his attention. “how long did you know I was working the streets?”

he swallowed down his mouthful of wine. “about as long as you've been here. I see practically everything, including all the ones you've served.” he gloated with mild aggression at the mention of past men being with her.

“you watched me work and got interested yourself?”

“oh yes, I couldn't pass up the opportunity.”

“must have been hard with how full my schedule was.”

“ah, wasn't too hard. Your schedule opens up … eventually. … they'll stop coming. … eventually.” his words starting strong then turning to a dying mumble. Turning his attention away from her to pouring another glass.

“that's not entirely true. Tom will always have friends to schedule at the house for me.”

“like who?” pausing his glass of Chardonnay at his lips.

Beverly didn't say immediately any names. “he has a huge book of contacts somewhere. Probably endless.” she tossed out. Going over how earlier today he subtly asked who was vising. She gave the groups specific names and what they were doing that day. Right before he left and the group died shortly after.

He laughed. “oh, with how old all his buddy's are they'll pass soon enough. Accidents happen all the time.” resuming his drinking from the glass.

“i guess.” she replied. Thinking over how it all seemed too strange to be just accidents. Had he been killing since she first got into Derry? Why? To have her 24/7? did he really want her that much? To pluck everyone off to make it so he was the only one? “surely that wouldn't work. He wouldn't make a plan like that. Too much work for me to be available for a few hours.” she thought as she drank her lovely wine. Glancing at him drinking his every now and again.

Looking between the lights and high above highlighted rainclouds from their seats. The quiet time again bringing to mind the circumstances between her, Pennywise, and her dwindling customers.

“you remember those men you ate a week ago? Were they the first you killed to keep away from me?”

“yes, why?”

“did you kill those hunters? It wasn't a bear, was it?”

“what, no?!” denying the accusation.

“a bear couldn't kill ALL of them. They each probably had a gun to shoot it. At least the bear would have been found dead to.”

“they're scrawny old men who need canes. They would have been a free meal to anything in the woods.”

“awfully convenient for them to be eaten. Same as that one business meeting being canceled when one suddenly crashed their car. Or all the ones before who went missing eventually.”

he huffed. “your overthinking it all. They're old and dying. As for everyone else, maybe they just ran out of money.”

“i don't think your being honest. You killed them all to free up time with me? Don't tell me I am overthinking it. Why do all of it?! I don't need you brushing me off, acting like Tom.”

something inside of him snapped at the accusation of treating her like Tom. He pinned her to the back seat and loomed over. Disguise shedding to reveal his silver suit and clown looks. Getting extremely close to speak at the side of her face, into her neck. “fine, you want to know why?” he began.

“You had all those males coming for you, getting in my way. Yes, I got rid of them all. Those when you first came, that crashed car, those dumb partyers and hunters. One by one so that only I could have you. And I'll keep doing it, even if I have to kill every male in Derry if I have to.” his confession freezing Beverly in place. Grin stretching full of sharp teeth. “I stopped hunting children because, for a while I've been doing a different kind of chase. I've been looking for a mate and I chose you.” her Skin chilling as her face warmed from a strong blush. Speechless as she felt like she was floating in air.

“me?” was all her mind could bring forth. His hands squeezing her shoulders grounding her again to keep listening to his confession.

“the only one getting in my way is that thorn in my side, Tom.” the growl he let out vibrating through her chest. “you keep choosing that male over me when I've been giving so much more. You say you want to stay with him, but I know better.” taking a deep inhale at her neck, he continued speaking. “All those rounds together to break you away from that spineless fool to become mine. your body's accepted me already, I can always smell it on you, The heated lust for me to bed you. I can even smell it on you now.” he growled deeply.

Flustering her to heavily swallow from nerves. Burning a bright red that had her face feel on fire until the cool touch of his hands brushed her face. “does my female want me to knot her down right here?” he breathed hotly at her neck. That sweet smell flowing off him to intoxicate her body. Heightening her want of him to take over already.

She shifted her hips against his with a quick nod. “yes.” she quietly spoke out. Permanently quieted with a deep kiss backing her into the seat. Giving into him stripping them both down in seconds. His hips pinning hers back with each firm thrust. His arms crossing past her head to claw into the leather. Growling and drooling excitedly over the pleasure coming over them. Slipping out for a moment to change positions. Flipping her down into the seat before thrusting back into her. Her legs already quivering under the pleasuring thrusts he wildly gave her. Biting into her neck and shoulders to leave more reddening marks.

She whimpered and moaned out as the towering male above thrusted her down. Clawed hands gripping her shoulders to press his weight down. His thumbs rubbing deeply into her shoulder blades for minor relief from what little pain he was causing. Holding her steady for each firm thrust sliding himself deeper. She could feel his length twitching and squirming the whole way to its goal. Beverly could hardly open her eyes under it all. Submitting to his domination of fully claiming her again like he did not long ago.

He didn't take long to ensure his knot was locked deep down into her. Not lessening his pace between the loads he spilled. Her hand gripping into the seat they were spread out upon. Not wanting him to ever stop, to keep going as long as he wanted until he filled every part of her. Struggling underneath his grip to rile him up further. His hands gliding down to wrap his arms around her waist. She rose up to shiver in her new position on hands and knees. Legs feeling like jello as her body threatened to collapse under the reoccurring waves stunning her body.

She kept wanting to say something, but the words could never escape her. Breathing in his sweet scent or moaning out in shivers. Almost collapsing again by him filling her with his hot seed. She wanted more from him with the words finally able to come out. “m-more, I want more.” skin prickling at the base of her neck from his hot breath.

“I'll give you a lot more.” letting out that deep guttural purr that had her collapsing back down off the heavy vibration. Losing her voice below him to non stop moaning through the hours he kept up the joyful ride. When he stopped she tiredly looked up to him, exhausted after so many hours but wanting far more.

He grinned down to her and helped her up. “lets get back to the wagon. Lot more comfortable there then in a back seat.” causing her confusion on how exactly he was going to drive with them stuck together. He got most their upper ware on to move them both to the front seat. Buckling them together with her stuck on his lap for the drive. He needed to wipe the window clear the steam they caused was so thick.

Beverly thought it was both hilarious and thrilling to drive this way. Hopefully a cop wouldn't pull them over before reaching the wagon. Getting in and out of the car was a small mission in itself. Soon as the door closed behind them it was right back to what they were doing earlier. Across every furniture he could steady her on before making it to where the bed was.

Biting to marking across her in his wild claiming of her on the bed. Him taking full control as Beverly relaxed for him to do so. When she felt his cum spilling over to flow down her thighs did she feel satisfied in gaining enough. Knowing her body was ready for sleep he lessened his motions to nest them both down into the bed. Resting over her to lick at the scratches he caused. Calming Beverly into a blissful sleep for the night.

The next morning she woke without him sleeping over her. Gazing around she found him not too far, standing naked cooking something at the stove. “morning.” she yawned with a stretch, hissing at her sore muscles protesting.

“morning. I am making us a nice hearty soup.” he smiled.

“sounds nice.” she smiled back. Blushing at feeling the apparent sticky slickness coating her legs.

“he-heh, want a bath before breakfast to get all that off you?” teasing her.

“yeah, but I'll need help to the bathroom.” holding out her arms as he came over to help.

Carrying her to a nice hot bath covered by rose petals. “I'll come back after I fix up the bed.” leaving her to relax in the bath.

Alone she lathered up with some flowery scented soaps. Thinking back to all that happened last night. His confession of killing every male that planned to be with her. Destroying all of toms connections and that the only reason tom's really alive is because shes been choosing him. Somewhat glad, but also disappointed that pen was holding back on toppling Tom because of her. “do I want him to?” she thought in questioning herself. He was leaving the choice, to join him, to her but would she rather he just kill Tom despite her protests?

“does he really want me?” was her next thought. “tom started the same. All the gifts, fancy dates, then when he finally had me-” sickened at the thought. “maybe its best I stick to Tom.” thought process broken when Pennywise entered to help her from the tub. Getting her dried and wrapped into a towel.

“muscles feel any better?” giving her a quick kiss on the lips.

Joking with a return kiss. “yeah, I can probably pick up a spoon without an arm cramp.” hugging his shoulders as he carried her to bed. Settling back on the fresh clean bedding he changed. Watching the lovely view of his shifting muscles from him walking back to the cooking food on the stove. Shifting in stirring the hot food on the nearby stove. A tempting idea filling her mind to call him over. “pen, come here for a sec.”

#It (2017)#pennywise #beverly marsh #pennywise x beverly marsh

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jazzs-side-hoe · 4 years

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Work Song - Hozier (EmmettxRosalie) SongFic

Scene: Tennessee backwoods overlooking a field of some sort, men of all ages and ethnicities are bending down, tending to the field, and the camera pans toward a big, burly teenager with short curly hair.

Boys workin' on empty Is that the kind'a way to face the burning heat?

Emmett stands straight and wipes the sweat from his forehead. He looks toward the gravel rode where a solemn, quiet Rosalie sits in a small carriage being pulled by a horse is heading toward town.

I just think about my baby I'm so full of love I could barely eat

Emmett smiles a big smile, remembering the times that he and Rose spent together, after he finally proved himself different than other men, especially big city boys, and won the heart of that smart and sassy girl. He can see in his mind eye the snarky smile of hers, her soft fingers, the feel of her waist against his palm

There's nothing sweeter than my baby I'd never want once from the cherry tree

Ever since they met, Emmett’s eyes have never strayed far from Rosalie. Her smile, her warmth, her passion for learning, for justice, her intelligence, it’s all Rose, the woman he loves with all his being. The women he had bedded before her would try to get his attention- to no avail. He no longer sees them.

'Cause my baby's sweet as can be She give me toothaches just from kissin' me

Emmett can still remember the first time he kissed her. That angel would be the death of him and he wouldn’t mind. He goes back to work. Camera pans out and fades to black.

When my time comes around Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

The Camera follows the lowering of a plain pine casket covered in flowers and a single red rose. Rose and an older woman, Emmett’s mother, and siblings stand beside her, softly crying.

No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her

Zoom in on a freshly made grave. A strong, muscular, veiny hand shoots up out of the grave, and a pale, dirty Emmett pulls himself to his feet, searching for his love, to the small cabin that he and Rose lived in, that he built with his own two hands, after they were wed.

Boys, when my baby found me I was three days on a drunken sin

Scene is set before he met Rosalie, outside a small tavern stands Emmett, drunk and stumbling home after a long day of backbreaking work. It was rare that he took a few cents of the money he earned for himself, but when he did, he would try to numb the pain of being the eldest child of a poor family, and the pain of losing his father. Now that his father is dead, he has to support everyone. His mother tries, God Bless her, as a seamstress, but she doesn’t make much. He loves his family, and would do anything for them, so this was just a labor of love. He walks through the forest to the little log cabin that belongs to his widowed mother and many siblings, not paying attention to the bear cubs cries growing closer. I woke with her walls around me Nothin' in her room but an empty crib

Emmett woke in a small, well made up room, in soft sheets and a much more comfortable bed than he was used to. Maybe he died, he joked to himself, in so much pain. Before he could attempt to move his head, a soft hand ran through his curls, and placed a cold, damp cloth on his forehead. He looked around the small room and found it empty except for a small empty crib.

And I was burnin' up a fever I didn't care much how long I lived

He was delirious and in such pain as he had never been in before. His chest burned and itched, and his back was sore. He felt like he had went to Hell for all his wrongdoings.

But I swear I thought I dreamed her She never asked me once about the wrong I did

He looked up at the person who placed the damp cloth on his head and knew he had died, but was somehow blessed to be comforted by an angel before his descent into Hell. She was lovely, but there was a pain she was hiding. Was it the pain of seeing humanity? Long, golden hair pulled into a braid around the crown of her head, a blue dress adorned her shoulders, a dress that perfectly matched the sapphire jewels in her eyes. The angel didn’t speak, didn’t ask how he was or what he had done to get sentenced to Hell. She just comforted him. He could stare at her for the rest of his life and he would be blessed.

When my time comes around Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

Rosalie is being held back by her mother-in-law, who is crying behind her. Rose is hurting, hearing her husband died working. She is angry at the magistrate and would have decked him if she wasn’t being held back. She starts crying and the two women finally collapse in a heap outside the McCarthy home.

No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her

A freshly turned Emmett makes his way out of the cemetery towards his home in the cold, dark rain, towards his love. If he’s late for supper, she’ll have my hide, he thinks to himself, anxious to see his Rose and have her in his arms. He pays no mind to where he is at, and just goes home.

When my time comes around Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

Rosalie is in their bedroom, alone. She is bathed in a soft golden light from a candle close by. She can’t get into their marital bed without him. She wraps her arms around herself, a tear falls, and remembers and misses her husband.

No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her

A muddy, filthy Emmett with red eyes walks home and sees the soft golden light from their bedroom. He hurries to the front door, only to find it locked. He knocks, while trying to find an excuse for his tardiness. He hopes that he wont end up in the doghouse. He cant wait to see his wife and taste not just her food, but her, and cuddle up in bed with his Rosie, his angel.

My baby never fret none About what my hands and my body done

During his recovery, Rosalie never asked any questions about his past. They spoke about their families, their hopes and dreams, their fears. On the last day of his recovery, he asked Rosalie if he could court her on her front porch. Rosalie frowns, and tells him about what happened to her in New York, and how she got her revenge, how she was let off easy and how her parents sent her away. Emmett opened up to her, in return, right there on the front porch, and as they exchanged the most painful part of themselves, they each started the healing process.

If the lord don't forgive me I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me

Emmett knew his day for judgement would come sooner or later, but as he laid in his marital bed with his wife of eight hours, he knew that if God wouldn’t allow him into Heaven, he would have his Heaven in his arms, in his wife already. She would have him, for better or for worse, and he would have her, in Heaven and in Hell. Together as one.

When I was kissing on my baby And she put her love down soft and sweet

He kissed her, playing with her long, blonde hair that he washed for her. Rose, straddles him, throwing her arms over his broad shoulders, a big grin splayed across her delicate mouth. The fireplace across from their bed crackles, and the smell of magnolias and the sound of cicadas comes through the open window.

In the low lamp light I was free Heaven and hell were words to me

He ran a hand down her bare back as he hugged her close, content in their little heaven in their own bedroom, in their own house that he built for her as a wedding gift.

When my time comes around Lay me gently in the cold dark earth No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her

Rosalie slowly walks toward the front door, a little scared of what to expect. She opens it slowly, and sees Emmett there, standing in the cold, wet rain. She throws herself at him, sobbing, holding him close, thinking that if he was a dream, then she could dream for the rest of her life. He lifts her face with a finger and kisses her in their living room, picking her up and lays her on the bed.

When my time comes around Lay me gently in the cold dark earth No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her

“Rosie, I’m sorry I’m late, I missed you.”

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trashforgubler · 5 years

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The Soliloquy

Word Count: 1463

Summary: Amelia goes in for a post-op MRI and has a panic attack

Extra Info: This has been sitting in my word docs for so long oh my god I cant believe I finally finished it. Also plsplsplspls listen to “The Soliloquy” by Noah Mac because it is literally the GOAT

Warnings: Panic attack, vomiting, swearing

Requests: Open pls send (even if its just a song you like that you want me to do something with)

Feedback pls and thank

masterpost

Amelia had been dreading this day for far too long. Today was the day she had to get an MRI. Today was the day her worst fear may come true, that her tumor could be back. There weren’t any signs of relapse, but that didn’t mean that fear didn’t creep its way back in every time she thought of getting a scan done. The fear would never be gone, it started suffocating her the moment she stepped into the room, even with Owen right beside her.

“You good?” he asked her, already noticing that she looked off. Her skin was paler than usual, and she wasn’t talking. She hadn’t said anything in the car ride here, and barely anything at the house that morning. The normally chatty Amelia was nowhere to be seen, instead, a shadow of her stood next to him.

Amelia couldn’t do anything to respond to his question, not even conjure up and unconvincing smile. She simply continued walking towards the machine, each step becoming harder than the last. Her heartbeat echoed in her chest, and it was so loud she could almost hear it in her ears. She wiped her sweating hands on her thin hospital gown as she sat down on the table and laid back. Owen took the silence from her as a little case of nervousness. Of course, she was nervous, she had every right to be. Hell, he was nervous.

“Okay well I’m going to be right in that little room the whole time, so if you need anything just ask.” Owen waited a moment for a response but got none. Refusing to make eye contact, Amelia stared blankly at the ceiling, praying to a God to let her be okay. Please, let her be okay.

“You’re going to do great, and after this is over we can go home and watch Game of Thrones, how does that sound?” Owen asked with a smile. Nodding emotionlessly, her eyes darted around the tile above her, unable to focus them on a specific spot. Owen gave her one last small smile before he put the plastic headpiece over her head. Amelia flinched as it locked in, and immediately her chest began heaving. She was trapped under a metal cage she was unable to get out of, left alone in a giant tunnel that made the loudest noises known to man. The door closed behind Owen as he walked out of the room, and she could feel his eyes watching her, only making her panic more.

I am going to die in here. She thought. I am going to stroke out and die because I can’t fucking breathe.

Of course, the fear of death only scared her more, and her heavy breathing quickly escalated to short, strangled grasps for air.

As Owen stood in the room, he could hear her struggling for air through the microphone. His heart ached at the sound of it.

“Amelia, you’re going to be fine, okay? I’m right here.”

His words did nothing to help her, she was only getting worse, and quickly.

“Wha- what if I can’t be a surgeon anymore?” she said breathlessly.

“Amelia-“ Owen said, tilting his head to the side, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Don’t Amelia me Owen.” She was angry now, her once soft voice becoming sharp. Owen felt a stab of pain in his chest as she said it. He knew she had a point. There was a possibility that she may not fully recover, that she wouldn’t be the same surgeon she was before any of this happened. Even from behind the glass, Owen could see her scratching at her balled up fist, something she always did when she was nervous. Amelia’s brain was a wildfire. A small spark had lit an entire forest of fear ablaze and now she was suffocating. She couldn’t see anything but the cage holding her down.

“Owen- Owen I need out.” She choked a word out between each gasp for air. The technician gave Owen a look and a slight shake of his head, telling him to leave her.

“She’ll be fine just give her a minute.” He stated emotionlessly.

“She’s hyperventilating!” Owen yelled, gesturing roughly at her as he did.

He had always been one to be protective of his loved ones, especially when they were in pain. Especially when it was Amelia. The tech remained motionless not really acknowledging or caring about his sudden outburst.

“Owen I said get me out now!” Amelia screamed wildly. Tears began streaming down her face as her voice cracked with fear. Owen gave the techintinon the death glare as he left the room and ran to Amelia.

“You’re okay, I’m here,” Owen whispered, trying to remain as calm as possible as he lifted the headpiece off of her. In reality, he was scared. He had never seen Amelia like this before. She was always one to put on a brave face for anything and everything she stumbled upon. This time something was different.

“I can’t breathe.” Amelia gasped as she scratched at her chest, pulling at the hospital gown she was wearing. “Owen I can’t breathe.” Her blue eyes were wide with panic and glistening with tears as she looked up at him. Owen wrapped his arms around her back to help her sit up.

“Yes, you can, just slow down.” He rubbed her back gently as she struggled for air. “Slow down.” Amelia looked down at the ground as her hands gripped the sides of the table so hard her knuckles turned white.

“They’re never gonna let me do surgery again.” She stammered

”Yes they will, you’re gonna be fine, okay? Just breathe.” Sweat began collecting on her forehead as she became paler and paler. Kneeling down in front of her Owen took her raw hands in his. “Mia, look at me.” Amelia shook her head as more tears rolled down her red face, too ashamed of herself to make eye contact. “Mia,” he repeated softer. Reluctantly she looked up at him, her once vibrant blue eyes had turned dull from the pain. “You are a surgeon. You’re going to be a surgeon again, but right now you need to focus on healing yourself before you think about healing others. You are the strongest, most resilient person I know, but that doesn’t mean that this won’t be hard. It will be, but you're going to be just fine.” He gave her a small smile as he wiped away a falling tear with the edge of his thumb.

As sweet as he was, Amelia could barely listen to the words coming out of Owen’s mouth, she was too focused on the growing sensation of nausea in her stomach. She wasn’t sure whether she was actually sick, or she was just so freaked out she had made herself sick. Either way, it didn’t seem to matter, the feeling was starting to creep its way into her throat. She broke out into an ice cold sweat as she struggled to keep what was left of her composure, but it was too late. She threw her hand over her mouth to keep from losing it all over Owen. Owen stood up and scooted to the side on instinct, immediately recognizing what was about to happen. He returned his hand to the center of her back and began rubbing gentle circles on it.

“Breathe Amelia. Deep breaths.” he coached.

Amelia gagged and purged a small amount of bile that tasted so sour it made her eyes water. She gagged again before vomiting on the floor. Owen ran his fingers gently through her hair, making sure not to touch the sore spot from her surgery, and gathered it into a loose ponytail right before she heaved and vomited again, coughing as a new flood of hot tears streamed down her face.

“Done?” Owen asked.

Amelia nodded slightly. Owen went to the corner of the room to get a washcloth and wiped the saliva from Amelia’s mouth.

“Can you walk?”

Amelia nodded again as she got up from the table. Owen put his arm around her back, holding her up. He could feel the heat radiating off of her as he held her, and felt her body tremble against his.

They walked slowly down the hall and into the on-call room. Owen sat Amelia down on the bottom bunk and untied the now dirty hospital gown. He removed his own shirt and gave it to her even though it was far too big for her small body. He then helped her lay down, and she curled up into his side, feeling the warmth of his bare skin. Owen wrapped his arms protectively around her and watched her fall promptly asleep, lulled by the sound of his heart beating.

#omelia #omelia fanfiction #omelia fluff #omelia angst #greys anatomy #greys anatomy fanfiction #greys anatomy panic attack #greys anatomy fluff #greys anatomy angst #writing #writer #fanfiction #fanfic

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cozy-possum · 5 years

Text

Jessamine spends time in school.

I’m not comfortable with school but Carlisle and Earnest insist I’m okay to go.It takes a week for Edythe to stop complaining about my thoughts but after a full month and regular weekend hunts I find myself a little more comfortable.

“Archie!!!” I cringe away as Dottie runs up laughing.

“Hey Dots, hows uh, hows it hangin’”

“You get that english project done yet? if you need we can have a study group at my house.” Archie turns from her and shakes his head.

“Sorry me and Jess were..”

“It’s fine.” she scowls and flounces off. I always hate that there are some people our predator aura attracts instead of repels. I can tell Dottie is talking about me again and she pitches her laugh up as I walk by. I settle into my seat next to Archie who just smiles and kisses my cheek. Royal and Emmett frown at us.

“You should do something about her you know.” Edythe looks up from the books she’s reading, her excuse for not eating.

“I will, I’ve seen it.” Archie replies calmly to whatever Edythe had unspokenly told him. I’m trying not to daydream too much about hurting Dottie, Edythe is probably waiting to scan my thoughts the minute we have any shred of time together. I sigh shaking off the idea of hurting her once more and taking note on the history the teacher is currently explaining.

She appears by my locker, I’m worried about the anger, the smugness she gives off. I wait, she’s proven no danger so I shouldn’t mess with her emotions, Earnest would be disappointed if I did.

“You know I heard Archie talking in Art.” She pauses waiting for dramatic effect.

“And I heard him talking about what a drag you are. how you never want to go out. and you never want to go on dates and you’d rather just skip school and be alone....”

I wince, those sound like the things everyone says, of course they know about my gift, my power over emotions leaves me frayed in big groups, everyones emotions fighting to be noticed it seems they flood my brain. Dottie smirks thinking my downward turned face is her victory.

“Wouldn’t it be better if Archie was with someone normal, someone he liked?”

“like you?” I spit out trying my best not to hiss. she laughs.

“well that would be preferred, but even your sister, Edythe, I’m sure she’d be better for him.”

“Jess!!”

“Speak of the devil.” She laughs and turns away as Edythe runs up.

“You shouldn’t hurt her! you would have made us have to move again! we all really like it here, the forest is wonderful!!” Edythe scolds me as we make out way home.

“You’re lucky i was staying late for drama club!” I nod sulking as we make it home and everyone turns, no doubt sense the mood shift as i walk in. Instead I’m greeted by both Earnest and Archie pulling me into hugs and Archie kissing me.

“What’s that for?”

“Just for bein’ you. You’re mighty cute you know that, specially when you want to rip someones head off cause you’re jealous.”

“You saw that?” Archie nods tapping his head.

“What if i had-“

“Even if Edythe hadn’t been there you wouldn’t have done nothing ‘sides scaring her.” I curl my hands into fists and thump my head on Archie’s chest.

“You don’t know that.”

“Of course i do sweetheart.”

“No you don’t!” I snarl shoving him away from me.

“You said Emmett would be fine when he came cross that singer and he wasn’t and we had to move and everyone gave a shit bout him when he didn’t like the new place. but nobody gives a shit about me, you just let me suffer, you know how hard schools are for me an you went and chose the biggest one yet with the most people who feel awful things. They ain’t good people and I don’t like it. I’ll just stay home.”

“Jess. You’ll be fine. Archie’s seen it.”

“Archie’s also seen plenty of things that haven’t happened.”

“Jess calm down please you’re making us all-“

“Oh sorry, am I making you angry? Cause I am angry thats what I deal with constantly but it ain’t just someone else anger, its their sadness or happiness or stress or fear or-“

“Jess, you should tell us this, we cant do anything if you don’t tell us, you could stay home with Earnest if-“ Archie starts. “I’m not here for them I’m here for you!!! I don’t care about them like you do I know they don’t love me like how they love you thats okay, I’m okay with being the monstrous one they fear, i just want you to be happy, they make you happy so i stay..”

“You make me happy.” His hand hovers over mine.

“Not on my own, not how you want all the time.” “Christ Archie that’s harsh.” Edythe frowns at him and I turn curious.

“what?” Edythe shakes her head.

“he didn’t mean it.”

“but he thought-“

“no.” Edythe turns to me and sighs ignoring Archies face.

“he thought if you were having such trouble you should-“

“Edythe don’t.” Archie tried to interrupt but Edythe just shares the thought silently.

-Just go back to Maria then- I can feel my entire body lock up. The fear I’d been hiding and the anxieties all come rushing up. The sadness and emptiness crackle and twist as I find myself moving towards the door.

“Jess, baby don’t.” I turn and see everyone flinch back from the fear I know they feel. I look Edythe in the eyes before stepping into the forest and running as far as I can, I find a tree and climb curling into one of the branches. I wonder if Edythe is telling them my last thoughts. I don’t want to think about it yet I can’t get it out of my head.

Do you want a monster? I’ll be the worst monster you’ve ever seen.

I return four days later, waiting till I know everyone is at school, surprised no one cam looking for me. I’m not surprised to find Archie home, he turns when I slip through the door, I automatically smooth the anxiety, the fear he has, carefully I step towards him.

“Can we hunt? I didn’t- I’m sorry. I just.” Archie appears next to me carefully kissing my lips.

“Nothing to be sorry for dear. now you must be burning if your eyes are anything to go by.” I catch a glimpse of my face, deep purple cover almost my entire eye and they’re pitch black barely able to see the whites even. A monster indeed I shiver, taking Archie’s hand like always.

#jessamine hale #archie cullen #twilight #twilight saga #twilight life and death #twilight reimagined #twilight revival #twilight fanfiction #twiwrites #stattic #carine cullen #earnest cullen #emmett cullen #edythe cullen

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rebellingstagnationblog · 5 years

Text

Let There be Peace on Earth - World of Color

For @crazy-fangirl-10 and @alliterative-albatross who both asked for Drake and Negaduck moments similar to last year's "Auld Lang Syne" chapter. I hope you like this one and that it holds up to its predecessor!

Standing on the roof of the cabin — though how anyone could call this place a cabin was beyond him; damn McDuck and his inflated sense of normalcy — Negaduck surveyed the surrounding tree line. There was no sign of F.O.W.L. anywhere. There hadn't been since he'd sent the survivors back to the Negaverse with his Foursome losers and Steelbeak. Negaduck still wasn't sure to make of Steelbeak; he'd always played the field, but now it seemed that he'd found a side where he was gonna set up camp. Negaduck just had to make sure his loyalties were in the right place once he got back home.

For now, Negaduck walked past the plastic reindeer and Santa in his sleigh to the roof of the carriage house, eyes sweeping the area for any other disturbances.

He was fairly confident that the night would be quiet, that the threats were gone, but he wasn't going to take any chances. If he hadn't taken the chance and come here when he'd overheard some wayward Eggmen talking about a cabin retreat while out in patrol in the Negaverse, he wouldn't have known about the F.O.W.L. attack. Gosalyn, Darkwing, McDuck, Launchpad would've have had to fight F.O.W.L. on their own. And Negaduck wasn't confident that they would've been able to keep the agency at bay. He shuddered to think of what might have happened if he hadn't been there. Gosalyn called him over-protective, and it was a relief that he was. No one was gonna touch his girl. Or ruin her Christmas.

Hopefully this hadn't. His being here. This whole F.O.W.L. battle. He'd wanted to keep the fight small, to allow Gosalyn and her family time to enjoy their day without interruption.

But since when had things gone his way?

At least now he could ensure nothing else would disturb them tonight. F.O.W.L. was gone — at least, they looked to be — and Negaduck would stay on patrol the rest of the night. Just in case.

"I can hear you brooding from here," came Gosalyn's voice. Negaduck turned to see her standing on the roof of the main house, bundled in a coat, hat, and mittens. She smiled when he looked over.

"Get back inside," he said, walking over to her so he wouldn't have to raise his voice. There were others in the cabin and he didn't want to call attention to himself.

"I wanted to thank you," she said. "For keeping us safe."

"You're welcome," he said, crossing from the carriage house to the main house to stand beside her. "Now, go inside."

Gosalyn studied him. "They're gone, you know. F.O.W.L.. They won't be coming back here tonight."

"Yes, we're a great team and you're a strong fighter and I'm proud of you." He gently took hold of her elbow and guided her back to the window that served as the entry point to the roof from the main house. "Go inside—"

"We're safe, though. Why are you sending me away?"

He gripped her elbow and faced her. "I'm not— I wouldn't send you away."

"You would if I was in danger."

"There's nothing," he soothed, pushing her bangs out of her eyes. "No threats, no danger."

"Then sit with me," she said, grabbing his arm and tugging him to the edge of the roof.

"No, Gos—"

"You just said there was no danger." She brushed some snow away before sitting down, her legs dangling off the edge.

"And I need to make sure it stays that way."

"Come on, sit next to me."

"It's Christmas Eve," he said around a sigh. "You should be with your family."

Gosalyn smiled up at him. "I am."

The very breath was stolen straight out of Negaduck's lungs.

He was family?

Holding out a mittened hand, Gosalyn asked, "Please sit with me."

He'd always been powerless to resist her.

Gripping her hand in his, he settled on the roof, his feet hanging over the side. Gosalyn scooted closer so they were pressed together shoulder to shoulder. They were facing the front yard, alight in all variations of Christmas decorations.

All was still. And Gosalyn helped to warm him, sitting as close as she was.

"You were saying something about being proud of me?" she asked, glancing at him with a mischievous smile on her beak.

Negaduck rolled his eyes and she laughed.

"Kidding aside, we've beaten F.O.W.L. how many times now? And they still can't beat us." She nudged him lightly. "We do make a good team."

"Cant argue that," Negaduck said. He looked at her. "You really are a strong fighter."

Gosalyn ducked her head, smiling shyly.

He reached out a hand, slipping his fingers under her chin to turn her face towards his. "And I am proud of you. Not just of your heroism, but of you as a person. You're very impressive, Baby Girl, and I wouldn't change a thing about you."

Gosalyn smiled and leaned into his chest, arms circling around his waist. Negaduck wrapped an arm around her, head resting atop hers.

The comfortable silence was broken a few minutes later when a voice asked, "Can I join you two?"

Negaduck sent a scowl over his shoulder at Max, whose head was poking out of the window.

Gosalyn looked at Negaduck, studying his expression. "Only if you want him to, Papa Wolf," she said quietly. And he knew she meant it. She'd give Max some excuse if he gave her the word.

Oh, what the hell?

It was Christmas.

He sent Max a sharp nod and the young man climbed through the window. Gosalyn sent Negaduck a smile before Max sat on her other side, handing her one of the steaming mugs he'd carried out with him.

"Didn't you bring enough for the whole class?" Negaduck sneered.

Max cradled his mug in both hands. "Mr. Mallard has yours."

"He what?" Negaduck turned to see Darkwing sitting beside him before holding out a mug. "Max and Gos like peppermint schnapps in theirs, so I made yours myself," he murmured. Just loud enough for them to hear. "There's no alcohol in yours."

Stunned into silence, Negaduck took the drink, which turned out to be hot chocolate.

"Merry Christmas to ya!" Goofy said with a huge grin as he sat next to Max.

"Nice to see you again, Negaduck." Launchpad sat beside Darkwing.

Still unable to think of any words, Negaduck glanced at Gosalyn, who just smiled and shrugged before drinking her hot chocolate. Not knowing what else to do, he took a sip, the rich taste and smooth texture rolling over his tongue pleasantly before he swallowed, the drink warming him all the way down.

There were worse ways to spend Christmas Eve.

Definitely less awkward ways.

But the silence was, amazingly, comfortable.

Everyone seemed content to sit and watch the lights in the yard below or gaze at the stars twinkling above. Gosalyn was leaning against Max, which Negaduck understood. He did. They were in love or whatever. He was fine.

Glancing over at Darkwing at on point made him nearly smile because his counterpart was glaring at the young couple with as much resentment as Negaduck was sure was reflected in his own expression.

The silence was peaceful and Negaduck was really starting to sink into it when the front door opened and out spilled the rest of the household. The triplets, Scrooge McDuck, Scrooge's nephew and his girlfriend, and two colorful strangers. They all delved into the snow, piling the powder on top of itself and shaping it into snowmen.

Negaduck was a heartbeat away from tossing his mug at Darkwing and taking off into the forest — he wasn't sure how Scrooge would take a super villain sitting with his house guests on the roof of his cabin drinking hot chocolate — when Scrooge McDuck himself looked up and locked gazes with him.

Negaduck stilled.

Like a damn deer in the headlights.

Just letting the tycoon take what he wanted.

After a few heart-pounding moments, Scrooge smiled and tipped his hat before turning to help Louie with his snowman.

Negaduck released his breath in a sigh, feeling like he'd just passed some kind of test, and downed the rest of his hot chocolate in one swallow, the burning awakening his senses.

"Is this right, mija?" One of the tropical birds asked, looking up to the roof.

Gosalyn smiled. "Pack it more tightly together and it'll stay better." She leaned out of the circle of Max's arms to explain to Negaduck, "That's Panchito. He and José," she pointed to the other stranger, "are friends of Donald's."

"I am surprised you are not also banned from building snowmen," said the one who went by José, grinning up at Gosalyn as he smoothed the edges of his snowman.

"There's not gonna be a snowman fight," the red triplet said, piling more snow onto his and Panchito's snowman while Panchito took Gosalyn's advice and packed it in tightly. "She can build as many snowmen as she wants."

"Why'd you ban her?" asked Negaduck, his protectiveness rearing up. "She too good or something?"

"She's much too good," said the blue triplet. "And Huey's a sore loser."

"Am not!"

"You totally are!" said the green triplet as he carved a design into the snowman's face.

"Listen, you want to go up against an opponent who is your equal, right?" the red triplet argued. "That way you're evenly matched and the competition becomes more fun. Cause it's up in the air and is anybody's game. That's interesting."

"We get it," called Max. "You aren't Gos's equal. I'm sure I can find someone more on your level, like an elementary school kid."

Everyone laughed as the red triplet scowled. Negaduck glanced at Max, hating the kid a little less.

The group in the yard continued to build their snowmen, chatting amicably with one another. The rooftop occupants sat in comfortable silence, finishing their mugs of hot chocolate.

Darkwing shifted beside him, pulling out something from his pocket. He handed Negaduck the Flashquack. "It has a homing device," he said. "Put in the coordinates here," he pointed to a small panel underneath the device, "and it'll return to you."

Negaduck took it and nodded his understanding before pocketing it himself.

"Thanks for calling me in," Darkwing said.

"I didn't want to," sneered Negaduck. "I know Christmas is for family. But F.O.W.L. had pulled out all the stops, so. The Flashquack it was."

"You don't need to put that Gos is in danger for me to answer the call."

Negaduck glanced at Darkwing, who met his gaze before continuing, "I meant it when I said I'd help you. Gosalyn or not, I'll answer."

Negaduck swallowed and glanced down at his mug which he was gripping hard in his fingers. He gave a sharp nod before allowing his gaze to wander down to the village of snowmen being constructed in the yard down below.

The cold eventually sent everyone inside, Goofy, Darkwing, and Launchpad wishing Negaduck a merry Christmas before heading back. Max took Negduck's mug and sent him a grin. "Have a good night. Thanks for keeping us safe from F.O.W.L.."

Negaduck nodded and the boy disappeared through the window, leaving Gosalyn and Negduck alone.

Unwinding the scarf from around her neck, Gosalyn reached out to secure it around Negaduck's throat. "Don't stay out here too much longer."

"Just gonna make sure the woods are clear."

"Then you'll go home?"

Negaduck hesitated and Gosalyn sighed. "Well, at least find someplace warm to stay tonight." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Merry Christmas, Papa Wolf."

Negaduck caressed her cheek and pressed his forehead to hers. "Merry Christmas, Baby Girl."

She stood and gave him a stern look. "Remember. Not too long."

He saluted and she went inside.

Sitting on the roof of for only a moment longer, to savor the quiet and decorations and warmth that was curling pleasantly within, Negaduck got to his feet and repelled down the back of the house, starting his last patrol for the evening.

Negaduck was thorough, going through the trees on all sides of the cabin and checking behind every rock, bush, and snowdrift.

And if he happened to end his reconnaissance in the front yard where he was able to see all the decorations adorning the cabin, well. That was okay.

"You fight well," came a voice to his left. He turned, Glock halfway out when he saw Scrooge McDuck standing beside him also admiring the decorations.

Negaduck faced the cabin, pushing his weapon back into his pocket. But he kept his fingers curled around the handle. Just in case.

Clearing his throat, Negaduck said, "You're not so bad yourself. For an old man."

Scrooge chuckled. "Old perhaps, but thoroughly experienced."

A breeze swirled through the yard, its harsh chill cutting Negaduck to his core.

Scrooge pulled his coat more securely around himself. "Ye should not be out here in this cold."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going."

"Ye misunderstand me, lad," said Scrooge, turning to face him.

Lad? Was that payback for the "old man" jab from earlier?

"There's a vacant room on the ground floor, which is ideal for a quick getaway if one is needed." Scrooge glanced back at the cabin. "There's a bathroom next to it as well. Both are under the staircase so they're isolated. Something to consider."

"Why? Because it's Christmas?" Negaduck sneered. He hated charity for the sake of the holiday. People needed help all the days of the year, not just the 31 in December.

"Because ye kept us safe," Scrooge said, eyeing Negaduck over his spectacles. "And I hear ye keep Gosalyn out o' trouble to the best of your abilities no matter the time o' year. That alone earns ya a stay. The girl's a bit o' a whirlwind."

Negaduck bit back a chuckle and uncurled his fingers from his pistol. "Wouldn't want her any other way."

"Nor I." Scrooge tapped his cane on the ground. "I'll wish ye a good night, lad. The room's open if ye want it."

Negaduck wasn't sure what possessed him to do it, but before he could stop himself, he'd blurted out, "Merry Christmas, sir."

Scrooge smiled. "The same to ye." He went back into the carriage house and closed the door with a soft snap.

Negaduck stood there until another gust of wind spurred him into movement.

The front door was unlocked.

He made sure to turn the deadbolt behind him before walking past the Christmas tree to find the open room.

#darkwing duck #negaduck #season of light #geronimo series #25 days of ficmas #gosalyn mallard #drake mallard #scrooge mcduck

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creativerogues · 6 years

Text

5e Backgrounds: 8 Backgrounds For Your D&D Character...

Commoner

You come from a humble social rank, perhaps working as a farmer, servant, or laborer.

Although your background is not as glamorous as others, you find it easy to blend in wherever you go and have a sort of folksy wisdom that can sometimes help you out of a jam.

When you choose this background, choose a profession that is found among the common folk, or roll a d20 and consult the following table to determine your particular expertise.

d20 Result

1–2 Fisher

3 Forester

4–7 Laborer

8–11 Messenger

12–16 Serf

17–18 Servant

19 Shepherd

20 Trapper Skill Proficiencies: Investigation, Persuasion

Trait — Salt of the Earth: Since you come from the ranks of the common folk, you fit in among them with ease.

You can find a place to hide, rest, or recuperate among commoners, unless you have shown yourself to be a danger to them.

They will shield you from the law or anyone else searching for you, though they will not risk their lives for you.

Suggested Equipment: Common clothes, iron pot, spade, tool kit (appropriate to your profession), 14GP, 4SP.

Guide

You know the wilderness like the back of your hand.

You have spent many days and nights in the wild, sometimes traveling on your own but more often leading others along rarely used tracks and paths.

Skill Proficiencies: Choose two from Animal Handling, Athletics, History, Medicine, Nature and Survival.

Trait — Wanderer: You have an excellent memory for maps and geography and can always recall the general layout of terrain, settlements, and other features around you.

In addition, you can find food and fresh water for yourself and up to five other people each day, provided that the land offers berries, small game, water, and so forth.

Suggested Equipment: Backpack, bedroll, hempen rope (50 ft.), tent, tinderbox, traveler’s clothes, waterskin, winter blanket, 40GP, 8SP.

Guild Thief

You made a living by stealing as a member of a thieves’ guild.

The guild is similar to a modern organized crime syndicate.

It exacts protection money from criminals and businesses alike, and uses its influence to keep the city watch focused on apprehending criminals who operate without the guild’s blessing.

Necessity might have driven you to this work, having no other means to provide for yourself, or you might have been an orphan taken in by a thieves’ guild.

Whatever your reasons, you learned how to slip into places where others would prefer you not go, neutralizing traps, locks, and sentries with uncanny skill.

Skill Proficiencies: Investigation, Stealth.

Trait — Thieves’ Cant: Among thieves, there is a secret language, a combination of jargon words and secret signs that members of the criminal underworld know and use.

Creatures hearing you converse in Thieves’ Cant might think you say one thing when you are actually saying something else entirely.

You have learned the secret language of thieves.

You can correctly interpret thief signs and doublespeak, and you can communicate in this manner to others familiar with this language.

Suggested Equipment: Thieves’ tools, lampblack, oil can, breeches with secret pocket, small steel mirror, belt pouch, 18GP, 4SP.

Jester

You were employed as a jester by a noble.

You performed acrobatic stunts, told jokes and stories, and provided entertainment for your employer and his or her guests.

However, you also served a key role, lacing your entertainment with criticisms and observations too controversial for others to speak aloud.

Skill Proficiencies: Acrobatics, Performance

Trait — Licensed Fool: You enjoy the rare privilege of speaking your mind with little concern for repercussions.

As a jester, it is your duty to use comedy to point out the absurdities of the world.

You can criticize through the lens of humor without offense.

In addition, you can gain access to nobles in order to perform.

When traveling, you can usually find a meal and a place to stay in the local castle or manor house in return for a performance.

Suggested Equipment: Jester’s motley, tin scepter, musical instrument (your choice), book of bawdy poems and jokes, traveler’s clothes, 38GP.

Knight

You have successfully completed your training as a squire and earned the title of knight.

Your title carries many responsibilities, and you are expected to behave in a chivalrous manner, protect the innocent, and mete justice across the land.

You might be sworn to a noble house or be a wandering knight, questing for some prize or glory.

Skill Proficiencies: Choose two from Athletics, History, Insight, Intimidation, Perception, Religion and Survival

Trait — Knight’s Station: When you are among nobility or some other group that would recognize your station as a knight, you can expect to receive free accommodations and food for yourself and your adventuring companions for the duration of your stay.

Certain nobles might decline, but this is a serious breach of etiquette and usually has social consequences.

Suggested Equipment: lance, token of affection, signet ring, sealing wax, light warhorse with saddle and bridle, grooming kit for horses, feed (seven days), traveler’s clothes, 32GP, and 5SP.

Minstrel

You wander the land performing music, telling tales, and entertaining audiences with your talents.

Rarely does a community not welcome you in, as you bring news of distant lands to the common folk.

Skill Proficiencies: Performance, Persuasion

Trait — Noted Performer: You can always find a place to perform, usually in an inn or tavern.

At such a place, you receive free lodging and food (within reason) as long as you perform each night.

In addition, your performance makes you something of a local figure.

When strangers recognize you in a town where you have performed, they typically take a liking to you.

Suggested Equipment: Fine clothes, ink, musical instrument (your choice), paper (five sheets), traveler's clothes, 27GP.

Priest

You have pledged your life to serve a god, pantheon of gods, or philosophy.

You serve as an intermediary between your chosen power and the mortal world, conducting sacred rites, offering sacrifices, and expounding the teachings of your faith to those you meet.

When you choose this background, select a deity or power.

Your knowledge and experience is drawn from your time as a priest in the service of that faith.

Skill Proficiencies: Religion, Insight

Trait — Temple Services: You belong to a specific temple dedicated to your chosen power.

You have a residence there, and you can perform religious ceremonies and offer sermons drawn from the sacred teachings of your faith.

While near your temple, you can call upon acolytes and fellow priests for assistance, provided the assistance you ask for is not hazardous and you remain in good standing with your temple.

Additionally, when you are in a location that has a temple, shrine, or other presence of your faith, you can expect to receive free healing, care, and religious services for yourself and your adventuring companions from others aligned with your faith.

Suggested Equipment: Holy symbol, flask of holy water, ink, ink pen, paper (ten sheets), vestments, 3GP, 9SP, 8CP.

Thug

Years of being a street tough have given you an aura of menace.

Your look communicates a basic message to those who annoy you: You’d as soon break their knees as receive an apology.

Threats and bullying tactics come easily to you.

Your demeanor has landed you jobs with less-than-reputable organizations in the past, where you’ve provided both protection and muscle.

Skill Proficiencies: Intimidation, Athletics

Trait — Bad Reputation: No matter where you go, people are afraid of you due to your connections to the dangerous criminal underworld or your history of violence.

When you are in a place of civilization, you can get away with minor criminal offenses, such as refusing to pay for food at a tavern or breaking down doors at a local shop, since most people will not report your activity to the authorities.

Suggested Equipment: Sap (equivalent to club), tattoo, half of a set of manacles, common clothes, 28GP, 4SP.

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like-rain-or-confetti · 6 years

Text

Lauren (Ticci-Toby x Reader)

Toby had been walking for fifty minutes before heading down the desolate street. He swung his hatchet, his eyes catching the now dried blood stains on it. Tonight had been slow. It had been like the world had just stopped around him when he was used to the world going a million miles per hour around him, people turning to blurs. All except a few.

“You can’t ignore me forever, Toby…but i’ll let you try.” Your voice rang out. He turned to look behind him and there you were, illuminated by street lights. Toby quickly grew agitated by the sight of you. “Stop following me!” He snapped. “I’d love to, believe me I would- won’t be much longer now… I hope."

"What the hell do you want!?"

“No…” You said taking a few steps closer. “No, no, you don’t get to know anything. You're going to have to wait, just like I did.”

"Do you a-actually want something?"

"From you?" You shook your head. "No, but I can't leave. That isn't how this works, that isn't how the game ends. There are no happy endings here." You looked at him for a moment, you couldn't be sure what he was looking at because of his goggles but you assumed you had locked eyes with him. You shrugged a little with a shake of the head before turning away. "Toby!" Toby's head snapped to see Masky. "Come on, let's go." He looked back at you but you were gone. He shook his head and continued with Masky.

Weeks later Kate and Toby were roaming the fields. "We should see if a farm is near by, or any kind of car for that matter. Then we can go back to mine to hide out for the night."

"Sounds like a plan." Toby nodded.

"Have Masky and Hoodie moved locations?"

"No."

"Good, we can meet them, take them back too. Gotta love winter." Kate finished sarcastically and Toby nodded once more. They found a farm up ahead as well as a wooden post directing them to various parts of the farm. "You stay here, I'll take a look."

"Sure, I'll contact Masky." Toby said leaning on the post and sliding down to sit, placing his hatchets on either side of him. Kate took over through the tall grass to inspect the farm. Toby flicked through his burner phone searching through his contacts. He twisted slightly when a gust of wind brushed against him.

"Cold?"

Toby looked up to see you sitting in front of him, propping your weight up with your hands. Toby sighed before continuing to flick through the phone. "You again."

"you don't seem suprised."

"As someone who had dealt with many hallucinations before, you aren't going to scare me in the slightest."

You hummed. "Hmmm, and here I thought it was your choice in friends."

"I g-guess you could say that."

"So fill me in, why are you sitting here? You may have a high tolerance for a lot of things but it's cold and the middle of winter."

"Looking for a car, a friend is down there." He pointed in the direction of the car.

You smiled in amusement. "What, in that dingey farm that's been around for decades?"

"and I suppose you have something better?"

You dug into your jacket pulling out a small blue card, a bank card specifically. "Not like I have much use for it now." You held it out and Toby reached out to take it before you pulled it away sharply. "Oh yeah, I forgot. You lot already took my card and maxed it out months ago."

Toby let out a laugh under his breath lowering his hand. "Ha, ha. Never knew you were funny. Hallucinations are rarely funny."

"You seem so determined I'm a hallucination." You smiled.

"I blink and your gone. Only hallucinations do that."

"but wouldn't it make more sense if you actually knew who I was if I came from your head?"

"No. It doesn't a-always w-work like that." You hummed again.

"Are you-" Toby was about to tell you to get lost but when he looked up you were gone. Toby shook his head.

The drive to Kate's house was rather quiet. "You seemed to find the car pretty easily Kate." Hoodie said.

"I'm holding my tongue." Masky's smirk could be heard behind his mask but he went ignored. "Yeah, turns out the farm was very familiar, went there when I was a kid with a friend."

"A friend? W-w-were you close?" Toby asked

"Very, her name was Lauren. We basically grew up together. We visited that farm a lot. Besides Charlie knew of the place before we ever did."

"Charlie can barely count to ten." Masky sneered. "How could he know anything of a farm!?"

"His parents lived there, Masky."

"Thought that place was burned to a crisp..."

"That was the family home, moron. They moved after he disappeared." Kate said coldly.

"Asshole." Hoodie rolled his eyes, the insult hurled at Masky.

"How about we continue to talk about Lauren and not a kid who cant defend himself because of you know what." Toby chewed out of his clenched jaw.

"There isn't much to say, Toby. I let him in, went off the radar and so CR, another friend, hoped to save me which ended in him dying and then a while later Lauren arrived to check on me. Except, she hadn't a clue was had happened and so she had to do her own little investigation and I killed her. Plain and simple."

"Awww how cute!" Masky gushed snarkily.

"Do you n-need to have a c-c-comment for everything?" Toby asked exasperated.

"I don't need to answer that, Ticci." Masky sneered.

"...Did you take her stuff?" Toby ignored Masky and turned to Kate.

Kate wore a grin behind her mask. "Of course. How do you think we got tinned food in the middle of the woods as well as a portable heater for than damned hut."

"And the extension cord!" Masky sang and Kate nodded. "She wasn't loaded but we got quick a good deal of what she had."

"Where is Charlie nowadays anyways?" Hoodie asked.

"I don't know, when I see him, the slender man isn't far behind. I'm guessing he is looked after by him. It would explain why he's feral." Kate thought aloud.

"That kid freaks me out." Masky grumbled. "He could be the cousin of the Rake." He shivered.

"The Rake is by far the worst." Kate disagreed. "Charlie is a bit much too look at but he's pretty harmless around the people he knows...CR learned that one the hard way." Masky rubbed his hands. "Does your house still have heating 'n' all that?"

"The water should still be working. I'm not sure about the power but I imagine it all still works fine. The place is quite isolated- I doubt anyone will have noticed it."

"God I miss beds and couches." Masky flopped onto the couch, taking up the whole seat.

"Well, we've got three beds and two couches. Quite frankly, my bed has my name written all over it."

"I could go a bed tonight, barely slept last night." Toby rubbed he back of his kneck.

"Sorry, my man but I'm taking the last bed." Masky rolled his shoulders and Hoodie shrugged. "Do what you want."

"I've got extra toothbrushes in the cupboard down the hall as well as toothpaste." Kate nodded to the door down the hall.

"Say no more, catch you later bitches!" Masky jumped up making a beeline for the cupboard. "Hm..." Toby smirked behind his mask. "The little things they don't tell you about working for him."

Kate smiled behind her mask. "You're suggesting that someone gives you a job description, Toby." Toby pointed to Kate with a wink. "You've got a p-point." Kate rose to a stand "I'm going to check the heating and all that still works." Kate turns to Hoodie. "Give us a hand, would ya?" Hoodie nods getting up as Toby moved to the seat by the window, gazing into the forest. He noticed a radiator directly beneath the window.

"It's a nice house isn't it?" Toby's head whipped round to see you sitting beside him of the three seater couch. You propped your heeled boots onto the table.

"Yeah, it's okay. It's bigger than mine was."

You nodded. "Yeah... Kate's parents wanted a place in the country side, weren't too keen in the city life."

Toby frowned. "I don't remember Kate telling me that." You looked at Toby before brushing some hair from your face. "What's with the change of clothes?" Toby changed the subject. You looked down at your self. "when you feel like crap, you do the little things to make yourself feel better." Toby snorted. "S-sure.

"You're strange." You said suddenly looking at him intently.

Toby sighed. "If you're trying to break me down you're going to have to do a lot better."

Your brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"Y-you're not the first voice in my head to say shitty things and q-quite frankly if you want to make progress then you're going to h-have to do better."

"I meant how you haven't asked who I am."

"I don't care who you are." Toby slouched further into the couch. "You're just in my head." You hummed. "Can't argue with that... it just leaves one question then doesn't it?" Toby turned to look at you. "Where on earth have you seen someone like me before?" Toby was about to respond when a new voice cut him off. "Everything's working!" Kate announced but you seemed to had disappeared as she entered the room. "Luckily we can keep the back up portable heater in storage for now. Thanks Lauren." Kate waved a blue card in her hand before tossing it on the table. "Remind me to get rid of that." Toby's eyes were focused on the small blue card now on the table. It looked familiar, like the one you had waved in Toby's face earlier. He shrugged it off as a coincidence. "You know, I found that card by the portable heater in storage but I could have sworn I kept it upstairs in my desk drawer."

"Yeah but you have a tendancy of misplacing shit." Masky returned flopping down into the couch that Toby sat, leaving the seat in the middle where you had sat empty. "Is that maxed out?" Masky gestured to the card and Kate nodded. "Has been for months but then again, I haven't been home for months, that's probably why I still have it."

Masky leaned forward sliding the card from the table and began to bend it profusely. "Or you could use scissors..." Kate suggested. "let me have my fun and then I'll break it " Masky responded.

That night Toby settled into the double bed, the bathroom was directly across the hall and Kate's room was the last door. He sighed feeling the comforts of the duvet and mattress- a much better combination than leaves and dirt. "How long are you staying here?" Toby sat immediately to see you at the foot of the bed, the moonlight illuminating half of your face. "Ugh, you again. You're the most persistent one, I'll give you that."

"Thank you."

"It wasn't a compliment, now go away. I want to sleep."

"Answer me first."

"Right now? Just the night. Now get l-lost!"

Toby tossed and turned. Somehow, he couldn't sleep. After a while he gave up heading down stairs to find Kate in the kitchen with a few photos laid out in front of her. "Can't sleep?" She asked quietly and Toby nodded. "Me neither, Hoodie's asleep so we need to be quiet." Toby made his way around to Kate's side looking down at the photos. In one, there was a picture of you with Kate and he staggered back slightly in alarm. "Who's that?"

"That's Lauren." Kate ran a finger down the edge of the photo. "The one we've been talking about."

"Have you ever shown me Lauren before?" Toby asked staring at the picture. Kate shook her head. "No...I tossed just about everything with Lauren apparently I missed this though."

"And her card." Toby swallowed, his mind spinning as be tried to not let it get the best of him.

"She wouldn't be needing it anymore." Kate justified. Toby's head was reeling. "You know what? I t-think I'm just going to head to bed again.I think the lack of sleep has finally hit m-me." Toby pushed away from the counter and headed back upstairs. He couldn't help but piece together the little encounters you had as well as the little things you've said.

"Oh yeah, I forgot." You pulled back sharply before Toby could grab it. "you already took it and maxed it out."

"Never knew you were funny."

Toby's thoughts jumped to Kate. "You know, I found this by the portable heater in storage but I could have sworn I kept it in my desk drawer."

Toby felt a cold shill run down his spine. He flopped onto the bed releasing a breath allowing the link to settle. He was never one to believe in ghosts and he didn't doubt that Lauren was very dead which only really left one option that he was ready chew. You could be like him, like Jeff and Ben, perhaps given another chance at living but from who? If anyone at all?

You moved out of the shadows, catching Toby's eye who sat up immediately feeling much more threatened than before. You didn't seem to be phased as you continued to casually move forward to sit on the end of the bed with a smile.

"You d-didnt say a damn thing." Toby's eyes narrowed on you. "I haven't the slightest idea what you mean, Toby." You smiled deviously, propping your weight onto your arms. "Yes, you do. You've never been in my head have you? You were really there."

"It depends." You mused. "To some I'm dead and to others I'm very much alive and of course there is a few who are certain I'm a figment of their imagination."

"Cut the bullshit, Lauren." Toby clenched his jaw.

"That isn't my name, maybe once I went my that name...but not anymore. You'd all know about that wouldn't you, Ticci Toby?" Toby lashed out which you quickly moved out of the way, rising to a stand with a mischievous smile. "Alright, w-who are you?"

"I'm (Y/N)." You said sweetly.

"What d-do you want?"

"From you? Nothing. I just borrowed you for the time being." You seemed annoyed as your head snapped to the side looking at your shoulder with a scowl before looking back at him. "To be honest, I'm just checking up on things. Catch a glimpse of the game before I actually play."

"what g-game?" Toby's eyes narrowed. You looked annoyed again once again by something on your right shoulder that was illuminated by the moonlight beaming through the window. You rose to a stand. "Sorry, some friends are calling for me." You moved to the door closing the door behind you but Toby caught it before it could close all the way pulling it wide open to find you completely gone.

"Hey you!" You scowled marching toward the group of 'creepypastas'. "You promised I could do my own thing tonight!" Zalgo turned to look at you along with Ben in an old fashioned TV, Jason the Toymaker who stood taller than them all and Eyeless Jack. Judging by Zalgo's face, you were in trouble. "You were to remain hidden! That was your only requirement. If the tall man and his slaves find out you're alive, you are immediately on the radar."

"He figured it out, I kept my side of the promise!" You frowned. "I didn't even get to confront Kate!" You said sourly.

"You will one day." Zalgo seemed uninterested. "But for now, you're young and remain under our wing."

#imagine #slenderverse #creepypasta #slender the arrival #slender the arrival lauren #kate the chaser #ticci toby #masky #hoodie #reader #original version was too long :(

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batsoulscrolls · 3 years

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PMD: Unbounded Fates

Chapter 2

tomorrow is a another day

[PEV] [NEXT]

Zoroark wakes up from his long needed sleep, expecting to be in a different bed,place, and his human body. But the same wooden wall, same stone floor and the same hay bed gave him a reality call, he is still here.

He gets up from his bed feeling sore like he's been through a rigorous workout and turns to the door to leave. But the tall stool with plaster of blue like-berries and a large wooden cup caught his attention. There are just a small handful of blue-like berries and the large cup is just holding water. He picks up one of the berries and eats it. It tastes like a blueberry but the texture of a strawberry.

He finishes the rest of the berries and grabs the cup though he almost dropped as it slipped through his claws. After drinking down the water and spilling a little on himself, he feels oddly a lot better than before.

Zoroark gets back to what he was doing. He pulls away the leafy curtains and sees a yellow humanoid fox with a stick in its tail who julited a bit when he saw the Zoroark suddenly appearing in the doorway expecting him to be in bed. The fox holding a small basket containing the same green bandages Zoroark had on “I’m here to change your bandages and take you to the Doc.” He speaks a bit nervously.

Zoroark steps aside to let in the fox and sits down on the bed. The fox begins to change the bandages and tries to strike up a conversation “So….ummm getting hit in the eye kinda sucks huh?”

Zoroark gives an advermitve hum. After he was finished with replacing Zoroark bandages. The fox gestured to Zoroark to follow him, which he did. They entered the halls outside of the room Zoroark was staying in, the hall's wall had vines starting from the bottom and touching the roof and spreading across the walls. The vines are sprouting flowers which makes the place look comforting. But probably a major fire hazard Zoroark thinks to himself.

They reach the end of the halls and make a left turn to meet a door. The fox pulls on the door sliding across, and Zoroark enters the room. The room is lined with shelves filled with wooden boxes and books all raging in different sizes. The room is illuminated by a glowing plant on the ceiling , in the middle Zoroark sees the Doc sitting behind the desk writing on something. “Come, sit. I just need some help filling out your file.” Doc says enthusiastically

Zoroark sits down across from the Doc as she still continues to write. He looks at what the Doc is writing, but he can’t read it, all of it is just unintelligible to him.Why does he understand what they are saying but why can't he read what she is writing. "Don't worry about writing, I’ll ask you the question and you can give me the answers. Also Cindy came early this morning and told what happened at the lake and your partial memory loss. So just try your best to give the answers, OK?” Doc caringly says

“So first thing do you know your name?” Doc questions. Zoroark doesn’t even know his name but something clicked in his head, an alias. “I do believe my name is Sevin.” Sevin says with confidence

Doc writes the name, Sevin carefully watches the way she writes his name and takes a mental note of it on how she writes it. “ Next question, how old are you and did you evolve early?” Doc says in the same tone before.

Sevin knows he is at least 27, but evolve early? He doesn’t understand any of this, but he might as well say yes to it anyways. “I’m 27 years old and yes I did evolve early.” Sevin says with slight unassurance.

“Next. What is your gender and pronouns?” Doc says

“Male, He/Him” Sevin responds

Doc writes down Sevin age and checks a box. “Ok I just got the bare minimum filled out. Now I just go to archives to see if you got a file on you or even at all.” Doc mumbled to herself.

“Oh, don’t worry, the rest are just miscellaneous things like what job you have,where you live, and do you have a house. But don't worry about it I’ll handle that stuff” Doc says while smiling to ensure Sevin

“I need to tell you something very important.” Doc's voice changes to a serious yet caring tone. “ I know that you are still recovering but I need you to leave. But I won't leave you homeless, Cindy will allow you to stay at her place.”

Sevin wants answers on why he needs to leave. But Cindy enters the room before he can ask the question.

“Did I interrupt anything?” Cindy asked.

“No you didn’t Cindy I was telling Sevin he was staying at your place.” Doc focuses on Sevin “Also Sevin I hope you don’t take this personally, I know this has been rough on you but I hope you understand.”

After that Sevin stands up and follows Cindy out of the Doc office and into the halls. They both pass what was, Sevin room and enter what looks like a waiting room but nobody is there. Sevin leaves the building being greeted by the late morning sun.

./.

After following Cindy on a dirt path through a forest they meet a clearing. Sevin sees a cabin in the middle with a shack to the side. “Nice place you got, musta worked hard for it.” Sevin comments but gets no response from Cindy.

Cindy arrives at the door, she digs into her bag trying to find the key. Sevin waits but grows inpatient, he looks at lock out of boredom. It looks like a very simple lock. Maybe he could pick it with his claw finger, he looks at Cindy and she is very focused trying to find that key. He grabs the doorknob with one hand and the other he puts one claw into the lock and finds the pin, pushes it up and twists the knob and CLICK . He opens the door.

“It's open” Seven tells Cindy “How did you-nevermind.” Cindy dumstructed

Seven enters into the house and he sees the living room there's three tree stumps arranged into a half circle spaced out by a rug, across it the presumably a fireplace on his left. The place is lit up by the same plant in the Doc office. Straight across from the fireplace on the other side of the wall seval bookshelves side by side filled with books but sadly Seven cant read. Straight across once they entered a doorway is there as well in the right bottom of the living room. Finally in between the two doorways is a wall lined with a map and many paintings.

“Let me show your room first, then the rest.” Cindy ethuaticaly says as she walks towards the bottom right doorway

Sevin follows Cindy, the door is the same as the Doc’s door. Cindy pulls the door to reveal a room. “This is your room!” Cindy says enthusiastically with shaking of jazz hands.

The room is almost larger than the previous place he stayed in, the bed has more hay and a larger piece of cloth covering it. On the right is a desk with the same stump in the living room and on the back of the room a circular window with flowers lined the edge lights the room.But there a stack of large wooden crates stacked august the corner of the wall gives Sevin the impression that this was a storage room, but he in no position to complain.

“Oh here I have something for you.” Cindy tells Sevin while grabbing something out of her bag.

She pulled out a small container label with words and a journal and gave it to Sevin. Cindy looks happy about this gift but Sevin needs to break the truth. “Thank you very much for this gift but I'm illiterate.” There was a long pause of pure silence.

“Well….I can teach you how to read and write after this is all over” Cindy promise

Sevin put the ink and jurnal on the desk. “Well I have to go, show yourself around the house and don’t cause trouble,please.” Cindy says as she leaves the house.

Sevin is at his lonesome again. He wanders around the house ending up in the kitchen. The kitchen has a cupboard and counters but split by a small little window that gives barely any light to the place and there is a dining table with the four stumps, finally there is a door that leads outside. There is a hallway but Sevin doesn’t go in guessing that it just leads to Cindy’s room and the new storage room.

Sevin goes back into the living room and looks at the library of books. Looking at the books with labels he can't understand, he grabs a book that has a dark red cover. He opens the book and it has illustrations.

Sevin returns to his room and closes the door behind him. He sits at the desk, opens the book and looks through the illustrations. The book shows various pokemon with each page dedicated to one, Sevin strangely recognized some of these pokemon but not all of them.

Sevin finds a page of him or his species, he finds three little illustrations. The illustrations depict a normal Zoroark then a purple ball finally a Lucario?

./.

SLAM

Sevin jolts at the sudden noise and looks outside his room to see who came in. But there was no one in the living room so he went to the kitchen, still no one. But the back door is open and some of the cupboard doors are open, and someone is hiding. He feels it. He opened the lower cupboards one by one until he was at the last one. He opens the least one slowly and peers into the cupboard to see a small Eevee with a colorful bandana around the neck almost covered by the white fur. The Eevee is visibly sacred, probably from Sevin opening all the cupboards until the one Eevee in. “Please don't hurt me.” Eevee says, trying to fight back the fear.

Sevin can tell he sare Eevee to death. He steps away from the cupboard and grabs one yellow pear and places it on a plate then sets it near the cupboard. “I'm not gonna hurt you. Come out so we can talk.” Sevin says almost in the caring tone of Doc's voice.

Surprisingly Eevee went out the cupboard and stepped behind the plate trying to have distance from Sevin. Eevee is shaking from the fear that Sevin gives. Sevin feels really guilty for putting terror in young Eevee.

“You can eat the berry and we can wait for Cindy.” Sevin promances “No-no thank you I'm not hungry.” Eevee says with a less fear in her voice.

Sevin recognized that voice, that voice was the voice when he woke up in this world. “Where were you at the lake yesterday?” Sevin questions the Eevee.

The Eevee recognize the Zoroark; it was the Zoroark who was unconscious at the lake. “Oh you the one at the lake.” Eevee answers with the fear subsides but still there.

“Well let's go to the living room and wait for Cindy. Don't worry I dont bite?” Sevin asks Eevee. Eevee nods in response

Sevin goes into the living room with Eevee but she keeps her distance from Sevin. Sevin grabs the book he was looking at and gives it to Eevee which she accepts. Eevee set the book on the rug and read the book out loud, Sevin listened in. Both wait for Cindy to come home.

#pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #pokemon #PMD: Unbounded Fates

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tilltheendwilliwrite · 6 years

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Once a Witch*

Chapter Six

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Witch!Reader | Word Count: 3137 Warnings: Angst, Anger, Smut - NSFW

Leaning your back against the door, you covered your face and let the tears flow. It was the right thing to do, you were sure of it, but it left a gaping hole in your chest. This one was three times the size of the one you’d lived with for three hundred years. It was fresh and bled pain, but you’d done the right thing. The best thing. The only thing you could.

He deserved to live the life he clearly loved, with the people he loved. To be happy.

You should have known better, though. He wasn’t one to give up that easily, and when you heard the glass shatter, you jerked off the door, spinning to face the man angrily pacing toward you.

“You think you can tell me all this, sit there and look at me with longing and those goddamned eyes and then kick my ass out?” He stormed angrily toward you, shield on his arm and glass falling from his frame from the window he'd crashed through.

Again you found yourself backing away. Not out of fear, he would never hurt you, but out of shock. “How did you… get in?” He never should have been able to get back into the house, not with your spell active and protecting the property.

“Brute force and determination,” he growled, stalking you into the bookshelves.

Backing hard into the wood, you knocked everything over with the connection sending crystals and candles and small statues falling.

Steve’s right hand shot out, and everything stopped before it could smash to the ground. “Careful.”

You were too shocked to do more than stare at him, ignoring the objects which flew past you, returning to their place upon the shelving. It had to be the serum. The amazing serum they’d pumped into him back in the forties. It had done something to the magic inside him, unlocking even more of his strength and abilities than ever before.

Once everything was returned to the bookcase, Steve took the shield from his arm and leaned it against the sofa. “Now, we gonna talk about this, (Y/N)?”

The rolling, swinging stride had you swallowing hard when he continued toward you. His hands came up to grip the shelf on either side of your head as he leaned closer, nearly nose-to-nose with you.

“Steve…” You opened and closed your mouth a few times, caught in the spell his eyes had become. Intense, focused blue, glowing with the depth of both anger and magic.

“What made you rabbit, baby?”

“Goddess save me,” you whispered, his question crooned in a manner most coaxing.

One big hand delved into your hair. “She’s a little busy, doll face. Talk to me instead.”

Darting your tongue out to wet your lips, you gave a shuddering sigh. The heat from his body warmed your previously frozen bones. The way he held your hair caused your heart to pound and your womb to clench. He inhaled, and you were nearly certain he could smell the arousal on you.

“You have a good life, Steve, an important one. One where people depend on you. I can’t be selfish again. I won’t take that away from you. I lost you once because I made you choose between what I wanted and what you did. I won’t do that again.”

“Stop talking crazy,” he muttered, his eyes locked on your lips.

“It’s not crazy!” you huffed, shoving at his chest to no avail.

“It is!” he snapped. “If you help me remember, will I forget who I am right now?”

“Well… no,” you admitted.

“All I do is gain back a few centuries worth of memories with a woman who loved me, and whom I loved, right?”

You nodded slowly, hair pulling against his grip. “And a better understanding of your magic.”

“And you? Do I get you, darlin’?” He leaned into you, his entire body moulding to yours.

A thigh somehow nudged its way between your knees, making you whimper. “If… if you want me.”

“I’ve wanted you since the moment I met you,” he breathed. Dipping down, he closed his mouth over yours in a kiss centuries in the making.

Sighing, you went boneless against him, arms lifting to wrap around his neck. It was a kiss for the ages, one that deserved to be recorded in the history books. His hold on your hair gentled. His hand slipped down to cup your jaw as your mouths moved together in perfect harmony. His opposite hand dropped to curl around your waist and draw you from the bookcase, lifting you up till you were standing on your toes, suspended in both time and against him.

The inquisitive flick of his tongue against your lips had your mouth opening on a moan. A slow exploration began as he took his tongue over your teeth and into the depths of your mouth. His stroked against yours, pressed and played, teasing a moan from your chest.

He broke the kiss only to take a deep breath, his forehead coming to rest against yours. “Baby…”

“Steve…”

You smiled when he did.

He held you against him, still on your toes, mouths so close together you could feel the wash of his breath across them. “Don’t push me away, (Y/N). Something… something tore inside me when you did. It hurt like nothing else ever has.”

“Me too,” you admitted, holding him a little tighter.

Taking another breath, deep and shaking slightly, Steve whispered, “Help me remember.”

“But…” you shook your head.

“What’s holding you back?”

“You’ll have to choose,” you whispered. “Me or the Avengers.”

“Why? Why would I have to choose?”

“Because of me,” you sighed.

He chuckled, actually snickered against you. “Darlin’, why couldn’t you just come with me?”

“What?” Jerking back as far as his arm would allow, you stared up at him in amazement.

“You think they wouldn’t welcome another magic wielder?”

“But… I can’t… I don’t use it like that! I can’t!”

His lips brushed yours when the panic filled your voice. “I know. I know, sweetheart. I’ve got all these things jumbling around in my head, but and it harm none keeps coming through like a heartbeat.”

“You… you’re remembering?” you gasped in shock.

He gave a slow nod and smiled. “Bits and pieces.” Caressing your cheek, he brought his thumb to your lips. “Your taste is so familiar. The touch of your hand. The way your skin smells… I can’t explain it. When I kissed you, it was like the first time and the millionth time all wrapped up together.”

“Steve…” you whispered in awe.

“Help me remember.”

Closing your eyes, wallowing in the caress of his hand and the heat of his large body, a heat you’d sorely missed, you gave in. “Okay…”

***

Even as you led him toward the forest at the back of your property, you wondered if you were making a mistake. The basket on your arm was a heavy reminder that what you were about to do could not be undone. When he’d tried to take it from you, you’d clutched it all the tighter.

Arriving at a small, circular clearing, you crouched to place your hand against the ground. The tall grass waved and retreated, the trees bent their branches back allowing the silver light of the moon to flood over the ground. Your circle formed, filled with green grass, lush and thick and so very soft. A ring of flowers in pure white sprang up, took on an ethereal glow while you quietly cast your seal of protection.

Steve held down his hand to help you up, and you took it, peering closely at his face. While a touch of wonder filled his eyes, he only smiled gently and nodded his agreement again.

Holding onto his hand, you stepped over the threshold, your magic buzzing on your skin. “Come in, Steve. You are welcome in my circle.”

A quiver wracked his body when he did so. The blue of his eyes brightening with the increase in power all around. “Wow,” he whispered, his fingers tightening.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” you said with a small smile.

Taking back your hand, you flipped open the top of your basket. Inside, fat white candles waited. Before you could reach for them, they were up and gone, set out exactly as they should be.

Glancing at Steve, he only shrugged. “Follow my heart, right?”

Smirking a little, you lit them with a wave of your hand and reached for the blanket, the cup and the wine you’d included. “Lay that out for me in the center.” You handed him the thick quilt.

He eyed both it and you but did as asked.

Kneeling down, you whispered a prayer to the goddess and pulled the cork from the wine.

“What’s that for?” Steve asked, dropping down to kneel before you once he’d spread the blanket.

“Courage,” you whispered, bringing the cup to your lips and drinking deeply of the dark red wine laced with herbs. Holding out the cup, you arched a brow when he only looked at it. “It will help.”

He drank, watching you over the rim as he repeated your actions.

When he was finished, leaving a mouthful in the bottom, you took it and poured it over the earth. “Take this offering from my heart and help me as I work my art. As the moon this night rises free, return the love once taken from me, as I will so mote it be.”

The soft white glow of the flowers deepened into silver and shifted into blue. It seeped like fog along the grass, flowing in tendrils toward you.

Returning to your feet, you held your hands out for Steve as the first wisp of your magic touched him.

“I… know this place,” he said, staring wide-eyed at the forest.

“Yeah… you do.”

He pointed toward the grove of willows. “There… there was where I…”

“You died. I returned your body to the earth in that grove, and when I bought this house and land, I set a marker for you.”

Turning to you, he gathered you close. “What now?”

A blush filled your face. With a deep breath, you reached up and touched the button nearest his throat. “We need to… you and I need to…” Plucking at the button, it came undone, and you stroked the flesh laid bare.

Colour filled his cheeks. “Really?”

“Sex magic is potent,” you murmured. “We used to… all the time… when we worked a really big spell.”

Determination filled his eyes. Hot hands dipped beneath the hem of your simple t-shirt and stroked the skin of your back.

Your whole body quivered at the contact.

“I’m up for it, baby,” he crooned, lips brushing yours in a tender kiss.

“Steve… be sure… it’s not too late to stop this.”

“I am sure. I’ve been sure since shortly after dinner. You’re the one who drop-kicked me out of your house.”

“Really?”

He pulled back enough for you to see the gentle glow of his eyes and sweet smile. “Yeah. It was taking everything in my power not to jump you in your living room. There’s this… part of me that keeps growling mine. I’m tired of fighting it.”

Your shirt came up over your head with such speed, you gasped out excitedly. Especially as his hands remained on your back while yours were now firmly held above your head by his magic. “Still so tricky.”

Chuckling and tracing his fingers over the band of your jeans, he slipped his palms back to grip your ass and drag you up against him.

The press of his erection into your stomach had you moaning and rocking on your toes. “Steve… please!”

When he released your hands, clothing came off in a frenzy of buttons and tearing seams. The tension which had been building all night, all day, was finally peaking.

Hands roamed everywhere leaving trails of shivering skin and gooseflesh in their wake. Teeth and tongues clashed as kisses grew out of control.

He dropped to his knees to place openmouthed kisses on your stomach, and you cradled his head. The sensations were so familiar but so strong, you cried out when his hand closed over your breast.

“Easy, baby,” Steve murmured against your flesh while tugging and rolling your nipple.

“Oh, Goddess! It’s been so long!” Dragging his head back, you dropped over his lap, your thighs spread wide to straddle his.

It had a harsh groan rippling from him for your dripping wet core skimmed his hard cock like a lover’s teasing caress.

He went over on his back on the quilt, taking you with him.

Plastered to his chest, you nipped and kissed his jaw, rocking your hips down on his clenching abs, trying to ease the ache flooding your core. “I’ve missed you so much. I need you so bad.”

Hard hands grasped your ass, lifted and set you back so your wet heat could slide over his throbbing shaft. There was a spark of memory in his eyes when you looked at him questioningly.

“Take what you need from me. I give it freely.”

Tears gathered again, threatening and finally falling with the words. Sitting back, you began to rock your hips over him, rolling your wet core on his thick cock. Each slide brought friction to your aching clit.

His hands locked around your waist, dragging you down harder over him and higher to catch the head of his erection. “That’s… oh damn…” he panted, eyes glazed and heavy-lidded with lust.

“Wait for it!” you gasped, lifting your hands in the air. The mist closed in, wrapped over you both, curled its way up your body to dance around your fingers. Power flowed into you, gradually growing waves of intensity which lit you up and set your body on fire. “Now!”

Lifting your hips, Steve brought you back down, driving his cock up at the same time, filling you so full you screamed and nearly lost the hold you had on your spell. Throwing both hands out, you began to move again, ride the overwhelming fullness between your thighs with vigour.

The silver moonlight fell upon your spine and set you glowing, filling you with strength and the power of the Goddess even as your long lost lover returned physical pleasure to your life. He cursed softly, drawing your attention down to his face.

Brows drawn together, his tight grip on your waist registered for the first time. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His eyes gleamed the bluest you’d ever seen them. They lifted from where your pendant swung against your chest to your eyes, held for a moment more. Then he was surging up, the show of strength making your core clench around him.

“You’re so damn beautiful like that. Look at you glow, baby.” His hands drifted down to grasp your ass, lift and lower you over the hard length of him.

“So long…” you moaned. “I missed you…”

His teeth nipped into your lip.

Tight coils of pleasure had wrapped so firmly around your womb you thought you’d explode before you finished what you started. The slick glide of him through your fluttering walls drew harsh grunts and sexy growls from his throat. You wanted nothing more than to simply fall into the passion, but the spell was so close to being finished you held back, held out for a few more seconds.

“Tell me your close,” he moaned, his mouth dropping to lay sucking kisses to your throat and shoulder.

“So close.” Every part of you throbbed and burned for him. Shockwaves of pleasure pulsed with every beat of your heart, with every thrust of his heavy cock through your tight core.

When the final remnants of the spell gathered around you, you brought your hands to rest on his shoulders continuing to roll your hips. Your breasts connected with his chest, nipples rubbing most pleasingly as you clutched him closer. “I missed you mo ghaisgeach, mo ghaol.”

One big hand threaded into your hair, tugged your head back for his lips to find the hollow of your throat. “Thoir dhomh a h-uile dad, mo leannan.”

The mist wrapped tightly around you both, the magic finally peeking as the love you’d been holding back came forth on a cry of his true name. “Aneirin!” screamed from your lips when your orgasm overcame you, tightening your walls and milking his cock in rapid contractions.

“Nessa!” he bellowed, body shaking as he followed you over into ecstasy, the hot wave of his seed making you whimper.

Draped over Steve, body humming but exhausted, you rested against his chest and shoulder while your heart slowed and breathing normalized. The gentle stroking of his hands over your back was almost enough to make you purr like a kitten.

“Nessa…” he whispered, his face nuzzling into your throat. “Oh, Goddess, Nessa! I remember. I remember everything!”

“Welcome back, Aneirin,” you sighed happily. The world rapidly tilted and you giggled to find yourself beneath him.

Bright, excited eyes full of love peered down at you. “How could I… I can’t believe… I forgot you. Oh, darlin’.” Pressing his forehead to yours, he shuddered.

“Not your fault. Not your fault at all.”

Tracing your fingernails over his back, you smiled when you felt your heart beat in time with his. Content and whole for the first time in three hundred years, you wallowed in the warmth of his body.

“You’re too giving, mo ghaol.”

“I’ve missed you Aneirin.”

“Think I’ll stick with Steve.”

“Steve…” You turned your head to see him in the moonlight. “What happens now?”

Settling to your side, he pulled you in close and gently touched your cheek. “I’d hope you’d come home with me, back to the tower. Come meet the team and I think… I think we’ll tell them the truth.”

“Really?” Stunned you could only stare.

“Yeah. It’s not like it was in the past, Nessa. I trust them, I really do. I think it’s time.”

Taking a shuddering breath, you gave a slow nod. “I like (Y/N). And I’ll go anywhere you want, as long as I’m with you.”

He smiled then, big and wide, and rolled you underneath him. “No need to go anywhere for a few days. I’m still on furlough and have a few centuries to make up for.”

Laughing, you clutched him close and breathed him in. While it might scare you, your future unknown and new people on the horizon, you had him back. Aneirin, Henry, Steve. The love of your life was once again back at your side.

Whatever came next, as long as you had each other you would be alright.

-The End-

mo ghaisgeach, mo ghaol - my brave one, my love Thoir dhomh a h-uile dad, mo leannan - Give me everything, my darling.

#once a witch #steve rogers #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x witch!reader #captain america #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #avengers #avengers fanfiction #avengers au #testy

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reddogf13 · 4 years

Text

Escape: Aftermath Ch: 1

Waylon X Eddie

Summery: After escaping the hell that is mount massive, Eddie and Waylon had been patching them self's to fix the damage. Murkoff however is not willing to release patients that easy. A new Murkoff CEO is hell bent on getting their two experiments back.

status: complete

rated: M - fowl language, sensitive topics,

gore, and sex scene ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

previous chap: Escape Ch: 20

next chap: Escape: Aftermath CH: 2

_____________________________________

~Ch:1 A new start~

*early night December 15th*

Waylon and Eddie stared out at the buildings before them. It took them two days to get here and now, they were standing at the edge of the forest just before the town. Both were looking horrible, wounded and scarred like they went through the largest bar fight in history.

Waylon had a large scar going across his left eye and side of his face. Bullet holes decorated his left shoulder and right leg. Multiple gashes or cuts covering him. Blood staining his clothes in multiple areas, dirt attaching to all the sticky blood. Eddie looked no better covered in more blood, and not all of it was his.

Eddie had a massive gash curving up his entire back, crossing sloppily over his spine. Lesions were on one half of his face from the Walrider project, the smaller ones being scars from treatment before the riot. He had three bullet wounds, one on his left side and two on his right arm. Gashes covered his skin and one big one on his jaw that was now mostly healed.

Obviously the two couldn’t just stroll into town, looking the way they were. It would gather attention, police would get involved, and Murkoff would notice.

“We need to find a place to stay.” Eddie said.

“If we search at the edge of the town we might find an abandoned building.” Waylon shivered. He was still soaking wet, the constant rain during their walk not helping either. Eddie shivered from the wet cold, but not as bad.

“Not good enough.” Eddie said, walking towards the town. Waylon's heart started racing, he didn’t want either of them entering the city. Now Eddie was just walking in to make himself home.

“Wait, where are you going?!” Waylon shivered, limping after him.

“To find a motel.” Eddie said, walking ahead.

“You can't stay in a motel! We have no money, and look at us!” Waylon said, struggling to keep his voice down.

“I am not going to ask the front desk.” Eddie said. Waylon's heart stopped, thinking Eddie was bent on killing the desk clerk to get a key.

“Youcan'tkillthemeither!” Waylon blurted out, latching onto Eddie's arm to stop him. Eddie just dragged his weight before stopping on his own.

“I am not going to. I did this a long time before Mount Massive.” Eddie reassured, continuing forward. Waylon still held onto him, no longer attempting to restrain Eddie. Only holding onto him for more reassurance that nothing bad may happen.

“I should have more faith in Eddie. He probably got away with a lot before being caught. He would know what to do more then me, but he's still not right, and unpredictable. I don’t know how he acts in a normal environment where his actions and thoughts are highly frowned upon.” Waylon thought. They walked in the darkened areas of the buildings. The few homeless people that saw them disappeared in seconds.

They stayed hidden for an hour, coming from the shadows at the arrival of a broken down motel. Waylon examined the rotting but somehow still open building. The large sign that said motel was flickering. Waylon couldn’t look at it long as the engine was aggravated. Cracks ran along the white, now tinted yellow, walls. Doors with dents, looking like they had been busted down before from a drug bust. Cracked parking lot and all the lights were broken or burnt out.

“Perfect.” Eddie said, in a joyful tone, as he walked to the farthest room at the second row of doors. Waylon followed a few steps after, looking for any people near by. The only light available to help him see was from the yellow flickering “motel” sign. Eddie brought out his knife to pick the lock.

“Wait, what about alarms?” Waylon asked, stopping him.

“They cant afford them, no cameras either.” Eddie said, the clicking sound of the door unlocking after. Waylon was amazed at how quickly he picked the lock.

“Wow, are locks that easy to pick?” Waylon asked.

“Only run down motels, houses I find are the hardest.” Eddie said, opening the door. Waylon's awed feeling turned to disturbed.

“How many locks has Eddie picked, and what houses may have been invaded?” Waylon thought, Following Eddie inside. Eddie closed the door and made sure the blinds were closed before turning on the light. The room was as Waylon expected. Old looking beds, a crappy small television with old rabbit ear antennas, lamps that looked broken and a small bathroom. He sat on the bed, wincing in pain as everything ached.

“Take off your clothes.” Eddie commanded.

“What, why?!” Waylon questioned, his paranoia rising.

“You’re wet and cold. You need to get out of those clothes and let them dry.” Eddie said. Waylon was about to reply that he was wet too, but shut his mouth at the thought of Eddie stripping down to dry with him.

“I am in a building now, I can dry off with my clothes on.” Waylon said, hoping Eddie would let him keep his clothes, but doubted it.

“You'll dry faster without them. They also need to be cleaned.” Eddie said. Waylon grumbled to himself, knowing he wouldn’t win this argument.

“What about you? Your clothes are just as bad.” Waylon said with a little anger. His anger died down at what he just said, the thought of Eddie stripping returned.

“I'll clean mine later. I am going out.” Eddie said, heading for the door.

“What where?!” Waylon asked, going to stand. His body forced him to stop, having him sit back down with a hiss of pain.

“Getting supplies, don’t worry about it.” Eddie said, opening the door.

“What if someone finds me?!” Waylon asked, concerned about what may happen, and hoping it would stop Eddie from leaving.

“Only cleaners come, and at motels like this they only come once a month. Maybe every six months if the motel is in really poor condition.” Eddie said as he left. The explanation eased some of Waylon's worries and raised others.

He sighed, starting to strip off his clothes. First was his shirt that he removed from painfully sticking to his shredded back. Turns out all that “gravel” at the bottom of the river he repeatedly smashed against was broken glass. The few glass jars of jerky in his bag had shattered when he first hit the riverbed. The next time he hit the floor, the broken shards shredded through the thin bag fabric. All the jerky was ruined, the backpack useless, and Eddie had to pick out glass imbedded into Waylon's back.

When it was off he examined it. Seeing the entire back side was stained with blood and in shredded thin strips. He sighed, wondering if this shirt was even wearable anymore. He painfully stood up to limp to the bathroom mirror. He turned around, examining his damaged back in the mirror. Lots of blood, scrapes, and long thin gashes. It reminded him of a curtain shredded by a cat clawing down it.

“A shower would help this.” he said. Might as well take it while it was available to him. He stripped the rest of his bloody damaged clothes, getting into a hot shower. After he finished showering, his body felt so much healthier. Month's worth of dirt, blood, and scabs washed away. He looked at his back, seeing the long thin cuts more clearly.

They were still bleeding out in small amounts. He grabbed an unopened roll of bathroom paper, ripping it open. dabbing pieces of it on the cuts to encourage healing. After drying and dabbing them, the bleeding stopped. He examined the rest of his body, sighing angrily at the larger wounds that were bleeding onto the bathroom tiles. Mainly his gun shot wounds being the culprit.

Those would need more then toilet paper to heal them. He dried the blood away from the floor and his wound, only having more gush out to replace it. He Grabbed his shirt and ripped a few shreds off, making a patch and wrap for the hole on his leg. The one on his shoulder he wouldn’t be able to wrap.

He left his clothes in the bathroom, wrapping himself with a blanket on the bed. He laid down on his stomach, his back being too delicate at the moment. He closed his eyes at the relaxing fabric. The beds were horrible, but after sleeping on hospital gurneys with restrains or in vents for the past few months, any normal bed in any condition was heaven to Waylon.

He awoke from his sleep, startled by the door opening. He didn’t know when he fell asleep or for how long. Seeing Eddie at the door calmed his nerves, but they spiked again when Eddie carried in a large first aid kit and a ragged backpack. Waylon got up, ignoring the pain in his body, keeping himself tightly wrapped in the blankets.

“Where did you get that?” Waylon asked.

“A truck driver stopped at a gas station. When he left his truck I grabbed them. I broke a vending machine too, if you're hungry.” Eddie said, throwing the backpack onto the bed next to Waylon. He recognized the sound of crinkling bags when the backpack landed. The sound stirred his starving stomach, having him quickly unzip the bag and grab the first bag of chips he saw.

Eddie set down the fist aid box on the bed, opening it. Waylon scarfed down the bag of chips before Eddie could open the kit. He threw the empty bag of chips aside to examine the contents. The box was large, being a two-by-two foot wide box. He grabbed a large bottle of alcohol, gauze, and a large wrapping of stitching wire with needle.

The first thing he dealt with were the bullet wounds. He sanitized and bandaged any other wounds that might have needed it. After he was fixed up, he gestured for Eddie to sit by him. Eddie needed that large gash stitched closed and sanitized. Eddie sat next to him, removing his dingy shirt and vest for Waylon to see better.

Waylon ignored the gash at first, his attention wandering over the layered scars. Many of them were old, some almost completely faded away. He felt a large one on his shoulder blade, being careful when Eddie's skin tensed at the touch. The largest one he saw, he recognized, was the one left after his impalement.

It was a deep, perfectly round scar just shy of being at his spine. An inch closer and Eddie wouldn’t have been saved by Murkoff or anyone else. Waylon stopped himself from staring, grabbing the alcohol nearby and a gauze to dab the wound. Waylon cleaned it and stitched it, being proud of his neat work. He told Eddie to turn around so he could give attention to the gun shots in his side and arms. Eddie obeyed, holding out his arm to Waylon.

Waylon caught himself staring again at the layers of scars in front of him. Seeing another familiar impalement scar on his side. He poured alcohol onto the wounds, dabbing them dry of the pink fluid. He stitched a few closed, not wrapping them, assuming Eddie was going to take a shower.

Waylon was stitching the last gash on Eddie's arm. He had to get close causing him to lean part of his back on Eddie's chest. Waylon was paying close attention to his work, ignoring Eddie when he started kissing his back. Eventually the kissing was becoming distracting as Eddie pulled him closer.

“Hold still.” Waylon said, holding Eddie's arm so he could finish the stitching. It was becoming harder to do as Eddie kissed more of his back. moving him to be closer to his chest.

“Stop.” Waylon said, still struggling to stitch Eddie's arm while he moved. Eddie finally did stop when Waylon was on his lap. Waylon ignored where he was seated, just trying to focus. Eddie started kissing the side of his neck. The affection had Waylon pause, this act of kissing was lasting longer then usual.

He was tempted to slow his work, maybe even undoing the stitches he just worked on. He didn’t though, finishing off the last stitch and cutting off the excess wire. When Waylon tried to put the supplies away, he was a bit annoyed by Eddie's hold on him. He refused to let Waylon leave his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist.

When the final supply was put away, the box snapping shut, Eddie put a light hand on Waylon's neck. he pulled his head back and kissed Waylon, gently holding him there. Waylon didn’t argue, happily kissing back. He felt the nervousness in his stomach, the feeling growing as Eddie slowly laid him on the bed. Waylon broke the kiss, panting, to speak.

“Are you going to shower?” Waylon asked, receiving kisses on his neck. half of him wishing Eddie would stop to go, the other half against it.

“Later.” Eddie said, kissing Waylon's lips again. Waylon closed his eyes with a moan, relaxing into the bed. His eyes opened when Eddie broke the kiss to unwrap the blanket from him. Waylon watched his only covering be pulled away, frozen. His mind was racing on whether to yank it back or let him be uncovered.

He was only uncovered for a second to have Eddie get under. He covered the blanket over both of them, kissing Waylon. He broke the kiss again as he fully laid on top of him. He kissed along Waylon's jaw and neck, wedging himself between Waylon's legs. He thrusted his hips forward to remove the remaining space between there hips. The sensation made Waylon gasp, grabbing the sheets.

The reaction had Eddie chuckle as he kissed along Waylon's collar bone. The vibrations going into his chest stirred some thrill in Waylon. His blood was pumping now with his thoughts racing on how to react. He was worried that Eddie might turn aggressive, excited at what he was doing. He was nervous at what they were about to do, and now wondering if they should even do it. He knew that once they started there was no turning back.

His mind went blank as Eddie grinded between his legs. He gripped the sheets tightly in his hands, moaning as Eddie kissed at his neck. The grinding slowed down, but got stronger. Waylon wrapped his arms around Eddie, clawing at his back. he accidentally scratched the fresh stitches on his back. Eddie didn’t let out a hiss or flinched away in pain. He repaid the pain with a bite to Waylon's shoulder.

It hurt Waylon, having him wince and be more careful not to grab the stitches. The pleasure soon replaced the pain. The bite mark did not break the skin, but it would leave a bruise. Feeling that grinding was no good anymore, Eddie reached down between them to unbuckle his pants. Waylon helped with the removal of his belt, throwing it off the bed.

Eddie removed his pants, throwing them to the side. Now the only thing being between the two was a pair of, now tight, boxers. Waylon moaned again as Eddie rubbed himself between his legs. The hard on he had feeling more noticeable with less layers. Waylon tilted his head back in pleasure, being rubbed against while Eddie removed his boxers. He was going to close his eyes till he saw the boxers go to the ground. He stared at the black fabric on the ground, his blood pumping faster.

“Ready, darling?” Eddie asked happily, kissing at Waylon's jaw while he shifted Waylon's hips. Waylon nodded after the question, not even thinking of what he was just asked. Eddie happily nipped at his neck, kissing it as he slowly pressed into Waylon.

Waylon winced, gritting his teeth as he was entered. At least Eddie was going slow with his body. When Eddie was fully inside, Waylon took a gasp of air. Having been unknowingly holding his breath the entire time. Eddie pulled out slowly, giving Waylon a mix of pain and pleasure. After a few slow pumps, Eddie quickened his pace.

Waylon moaned, entering a pleasured haze. He kissed Eddie, clawing at his back again. He accidentally caught the stitches again, receiving another bite on his skin. Waylon winced, kissing him when he released. Eddie kissed down to his neck, biting again as Waylon scratched into the wound. This one hurt a bit more and when Waylon was kissed, he tasted a little blood.

Waylon decided it was best to move his hands away from Eddies back. The stitches being in the middle would get caught a lot and Waylon didn’t want layers of bites. Eddie grabbed his hands by there wrists, holding them into the mat. He moved forward, getting a better angle at Waylon when he pumped in.

*The next morning

Waylon opened his eyes, annoyed at the light beaming into the dark room. He glared at the light that beamed under the curtains. He turned his head away from facing the window. The body above him shifted at the movement, holding Waylon tighter in its hold.

Waylon smiled slightly at Eddie sleeping above him. He didn’t mind the extra weight on top of him, it felt a little comforting. What he did mind was the way Eddie was holding him. He had wrapped his arms around Waylon in an awkward way that kept Waylon from moving.

It wasn’t something done accidentally, the hold was meant to keep Waylon from moving out from under him. The trapping position wasn’t uncomfortable to Waylon, but it did look like it for Eddie. The hold wasn’t that tight either, just positioned in the right manor.

There were a few times Waylon tested the hold. Anytime he did manage to slip out, Eddie would change his hold to trap him again. It was some kind of compulsion he felt to keep Waylon trapped. Waylon was sure he could easily escape if he wanted to. A simple yank upward of an arm could break or dislocate something. It was a sign that the hold wasn’t meant to be aggressive toward whoever was in it. An aggressive hold would have been much more constricting and uncomfortable for the prisoner.

Waylon shifted a little to reach his hand up and gently rub Eddies shoulder. The position he was in, lying stomach down, made it slightly difficult. The soreness in his shoulders and neck area from the movement reminded him of the multiple bites he received. He had caught the stitches on Eddie a lot, mainly the large ones on his back.

His hand gently rubbed down Eddie's back, stopping when Eddie flinched his shoulder. He accidentally touched the stitches again. Eddie took a deep breath as he awakened, shifting his hold a bit.

“Sorry.” Waylon apologized, gently rubbing his shoulder. Eddie nuzzled into his neck, kissing it. He closed his eyes at the affection, opening them so he could ask a question he wanted to ask since late last night.

“Why do you do this?” Waylon asked, referring to the awkward trap hold.

“Hm, do what?” Eddie asked, not opening his eyes.

“This.” Waylon said, tapping his fingers on Eddie's arm.

“To keep you here. To keep you safe.” Eddie said, kissing Waylon's neck again.

“Have you always done this?” Waylon asked.

“Only one other time.” Eddie said.

Waylon was interested to learn more, but left it there. He started to move out from underneath Eddie, who let out an annoyed groan, tightening his hold to keep Waylon.

“Where are you going?” Eddie questioned.

“I need to take another shower.” Waylon said, rubbing Eddie's arm. Eddie huffed, removing his hold. Waylon chuckled, getting out from underneath him. When he was off the bed he grabbed one of the extra bed blankets to wrap himself. Even though they had sex, he still didn’t want to walk naked around him. Eddie stayed relaxing in the bed, his eyes closed contently.

#outlast whistleblower #waylon park #eddie gluskin #Waylon x Eddie

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alydiarackham · 4 years

Photo

(Cover by me)

Amatus: An Allegory by Alydia Rackham

Chapter One

“Nox”

Crispian opened his eye.

The warmth faded from the skin of his face, the weight of a broad palm on his shoulder lifted.

He felt his shoulder and hip bones settle down upon a thin blanket, and stone.

His eyebrows drew together as he gazed foggily through two gray, weathered marble posts toward the east—but though he blinked, and squinted toward the dark horizon, he couldn’t find even a hint of that color. The color that had, just moments ago, swelled through his mind. Something like the depths of a fire in a warm hearth on a frosty night—only brighter, cleaner. Almost…

Alive.

He grunted, shifting to prop himself onto his elbow and reaching up to rub at his right eye. He carefully kept his forefinger clear of the delicate, crumpled skin that covered the hole where his left eye had once been. He drowsily winced, the deep scars on his left cheek wrinkling, and raked his fingers through his dark, curly hair.

“Fell asleep out here again…” he muttered hoarsely, gritting his teeth against the stiffness in his back as he sat up, then climbed to his feet, pulling his left arm against his chest, absentmindedly protecting the stump where his hand had been from being jostled.

Sighing, he glanced up and around. A morning wind tousled his hair, loose shirt and trousers. The sky overhead meandered through with low, deep-blue clouds—clouds low enough that they almost touched the peak of the massive, hollow bell tower that stood like a tongue-less sentry off to Crispian’s left. He stood upon the roof of the tallest structure in Tutus. A chest-high stone railing guarded him from the plummeting edge, and the rooftop, like a courtyard, was surrounded by a forest of jagged, pointed spires carved with thousands of faces and knots. Small, piercing blue lights—like captured stars—lived in the peaks of all the spires, casting a clean, ghostly illumination across all the stonework. Crispian realized that their blinking on must have awakened him. They always signaled seven o’clock in the morning.

He sighed again, and turned toward the east.

He couldn’t see well. Hadn’t been able to ever since he could remember. If something or someone stood within perhaps twenty feet of him, he could view them clearly. But beyond that, everything took on a hazy aspect, until, if it waited far enough away, it became nothing but a blurry phantom.

If he stood still right here, though, and concentrated, he could make out the uneven, terra-cotta roofs of the crowded houses of Tutus, rising and falling like the swells on the ocean through the darkness. Or—as he imagined the swells on the ocean might look. He’d never seen them, himself. Only pictures. One by one, the different sections of the city came to life—the blue lamplights blinked on, enlivening a maze of streets that glowed like rivers between the structures.

Footsteps behind him. Echoing across the hard, empty space.

Crispian turned to glimpse a familiar figure stride through the door in the wall where the bell tower met the roof. He wore a sweeping black cloak and deep hood, and the silver embroidery on the hems glittered as he passed between the spire lights. He had the same tone of skin that Crispian had—very light chestnut, and his right eye was the same color as Crispian’s as well: copper. However, his left eye was pink, nearly red, and as useless as Crispian’s. He smiled, showing deep, friendly lines around his eyes.

“Good morning, young man,” the newcomer greeted him.

“Good morning, Minister.” Crispian managed a faint smile of his own. The Minister chuckled.

“Did you sleep up here again?”

�� “Ha. Yes,” Crispian admitted, running his hand through his hair again and then rubbing his sore neck.

“Can’t say I blame you,” the Minister admitted drawing up next to him and leaning his elbows on the railing. “It’s so quiet up here. You can’t hear the noise in the streets at all.”

Crispian frowned a little.

“I…never thought about that.”

The Minister glanced at him.

“You haven’t?” He turned toward him a little more. “What brings you up here, then?”

Crispian took a breath, and folded his arms, tucking his stump in tight. He canted his head, and gazed out over the dim rooftops.

“Sometimes,” he mused. “In the middle of the night, if I’m sitting up here, and facing just the right way, and awake enough…I’ll see a light on the horizon. It’s very low, and it’s a strange color. And it doesn’t last very long. But it’s…It’s lighter than the overhead sky ever is during the day. Almost…warm.”

The Minister stood upright again, resting one hand on the railing, watching Crispian with furrowed brow.

“It’s soft. Like a candle, maybe,” Crispian went on. “But whenever I see it, I don’t want to look at anything else.”

“And…you wonder what it is,” the Minister finished. Crispian looked over at him. The Minister returned the look with bright, solemn earnestness.

“Do you know?” Crispian asked.

“Mhm,” the Minister nodded, turning to face the east as well. “It’s Aurora.”

“Aurora?” Crispian repeated, his heart banging against his breastbone. “We can see it from here?”

“Oh, only occasionally, when the clouds clear just right,” the Minister answered. “It is still very far away.”

An icy shiver raced through Crispian’s body, as a poisonous guilt coursed through his blood.

“I didn’t know that’s what it was,” he murmured, ducking his head.

“Crispian, there’s nothing wrong with being curious!” the Minister assured him, reaching out to take hold of his shoulder. “I’m happy you asked me about it.”

Crispian risked a glance up at him, but the Minister only smiled gently again.

“But let me tell you what that light is like,” he said, squeezing Crispian’s shoulder. “Have you ever heard of the angler fish?”

Crispian canted his head.

“I might have…”

“It’s a fish that used to live in the most dangerous parts of the ocean,” the Minister explained. “And it had an appendage that’s like a long wand, and at the end of it is a bright light. And it uses it to mesmerize smaller fish into coming closer and closer through the dark—until all at once, the little fish comes face to face with three rows of razor-sharp teeth. And it’s too late.”

Crispian fixed on the Minister’s face, which had lost all levity. The Minister raised his eyebrows.

“But if the little fish had known what waited right on the other side of that light,” he said slowly. “He would have turned the second he saw it, and swam away into the darkest, safest place he could find.” The Minister slapped Crispian’s shoulder. “So that’s why I’m glad you asked me.” He laughed. “Now you know about the teeth!”

Crispian chuckled.

“That wouldn’t be a good surprise.”

“No, not at all,” the Minister laughed too. “Are you coming to Memoriae?”

“Oh. Yes,” Crispian shook himself. “Almost forgot. Is that today? It feels early this week.”

“Yes, today, at the Domus.”

“All right,” Crispian nodded. “I will be there.”

The Minister grinned at him, then headed back across the roof.

“See you then, Crispian!”

Chapter Two

“Memoriae”

Crispian finished his breakfast, stood up from his table and put his dishes in the wash bucket, then glanced around at his little room to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything.

He lived inside the huge building on top of which he’d spent the night, in the little chambers just beneath the empty bell tower. Nobody else ever came to this dead, castle-like place, and Crispian could understand why. It possessed vast, towering, empty spaces filled with aloof stone decoration, rather than cozy, functional rooms. This chamber alone, out of all of them, could serve as a comfort, and he’d stayed here ever since It Happened. Which felt like a very long time ago.

He had already made his wide, simple bed—since he hadn’t slept in it last night—folded and put his clothes away in his trunk at the foot of that bed, and straightened the mess on his workbench that he’d made the previous day cataloguing and re-bottling all his dried herbs. The earthy smell of lavender, rose and chamomile still hung in the air, as always. The wind drifted in through the open eastern window, and disturbed the hanging wooden chime above the bench, causing its carved wooden flutes to clunk listlessly against each other.

Crispian crossed the creaking wooden floor and picked up a formed piece of leather from his bedside table. He placed it over his left-arm stump like a cap, and buckled it on tightly. He always wore it when he went out into the street. If anyone or anything knocked against it unprotected, it hurt too much for words.

Then, he turned and glanced at himself in the oval mirror by the pump, and immediately pushed his locks of hair away from his forehead above his right eye, so his blue, curling markings would show. Next, he picked up his satchel, hearing bottles clink together inside, lay the strap across his shoulders, and headed down the stairs to go to Memoriae.

Scents of baking bread, coffee and smoke wandered through the narrow, winding streets as Crispian made his way, dozens of other early-morning folk passing by all around him. Their feet clamored on the worn cobblestone, echoing against the rock-hewn walls of the short buildings on either side, the sound caught beneath the overhangs. He nodded to the people who looked at him, quietly greeted a few of them that he knew, peripherally noticing all of their blue marks around their right eyes. Most of them bore no scars. At least, none visible.

Lively string music floated out of one of the shops Crispian passed, and he hummed the tune to himself, keeping his left arm close, and his right-hand thumb hooked through his pack strap.

He made his well-traveled way downhill in a zig-zag pattern through the quarter. As he went, the passages grew narrower, the buildings taller and closer together. He crossed a prominent street and glanced to his right, as he always did, toward the nearby space between two buildings blocked by a towering iron fence capped in scarlet points. A fence which bore the shining black-and-silver crest of Crispian’s friend, the Minister of all of Nox.

Just on the other side of that gate, a mere twenty feet away, flowed a horde of people, dressed in drab colors and lit by the same blue lights, just as in this quarter—only they bore red markings around their right eyes. Crispian listened in that direction, his fingers tightening around his strap, but none of them took notice of him. They passed to and fro, just like the people in Crispian’s quarter, eating, talking, or just charging ahead with their heads down on the way to complete some errand or another.

Finally, Crispian’s path dead-ended in a building with a large open doorway, above which stood another crest which bore the motto “Amicus protectio fortis”: Protection by friends.

Crispian took a deep breath as the sweet smell of his favorite drink—a warm honey-cider—drifted out to him. He strode past the two guards, his eye adjusting to the even greater darkness within.

Immediately he sensed people all around him, sitting on stools at all the small, circular tables. A chandelier that hung down from in the center of the ceiling of the octagonal room glowed with that same blue light as the lamps outside, but a broad stone fireplace off to Crispian’s right had been lit, and the living fire danced and bloomed, throwing pale white light across the flagstones before it.

Now that his eye had refocused to take in such different illumination, and he had gotten close enough, he could make out the faces of all the people he knew. All ages of people, wearing all kinds of clothes—some fine, with embroidery and shining buttons; others in rags. Some—very few—even showed the red markings around their eyes. But all of them, regardless of what they wore or their ages, bore deep, life-altering scars, and quite a few of them were missing fingers, feet, ears, noses, or whole limbs.

As he passed, people stopped their conversations, reached out and grasped Crispian’s wrist, called his name, even stood up to embrace him. He happily but quietly answered them, asked how they were, and affectionately gripped their fingers in turn.

Finally, Crispian crossed half of the room, paused by the one square table in the place, the one in front of the fire, and felt tension melt from his shoulders. Out there in the streets of Tutus, he so often forgot that the tension made its home in his frame and gripped his muscles. It was only here in the Domus on Memoriae that he felt he could finally, truly breathe. That no one would look twice at him, unless it was to smile and say hello.

He set his pack down on the table, opened the top and began pulling out the bottles of herbs and lining them up according to type and size of bottle. Each clear bottle clinked musically as he set it down. He also pulled out his mortar and pestle, then tossed his pack on the floor and sat down on the bench, his back to the fire.

“Good morning, Crispian,” a robust voice called, and Crispian looked up to see a broad, bald figure in an apron clarify from out of the shadows and come up to him, a large tray filled with drinks in his hands. He grinned at Crispian, his eyes lighting up despite his missing nose.

“Hello, Magnum,” Crispian answered. Magnum noisily set the tray down on the table. The steam from the hot honey cider mingled and rose into the air as one delicious fume.

“Happy Memoriae,” Magnum said. “Have at it.”

“Thank you,” Crispian answered, popping the cork off of one of his herb bottles, pouring some into the mortar and beginning to grind it up, setting his leather-bound stump against the edge of it to keep it steady.

As he worked, several people came up to him and sat across from him, and talked with him. As more people entered, the Domus rang with laughter and lively conversation. The warmth from the fire and the smell from the cider swelled through them. Crispian measured out amounts of combined herbs and stirred them into the cups of cider, and all those who came to talk to him came away with one of those cups. Crispian glimpsed the Minister drifting in and out of the corners of the room, socializing, but as he’d paid a special visit to Crispian that morning, Crispian didn’t expect him to come chat again. He was a busy man.

That glow in Crispian’s heart—the one that always billowed within the first hour or so upon entering the Domus—guttered as he handed out the last cup of cider to a girl named Casta, who was missing both her ears. For a moment, Crispian sat there all alone, having delivered all his goods. No one had invited him over to his or her table. Not on purpose, he was sure. He would just have to make an effort to get up, assert himself and find an empty seat…

Movement at the far door. A door that opened up to a different quarter.

A door that hardly ever opened at all.

Crispian sat up, frowning. The person who had come in still waited beyond the edge of his clear vision, but he could guess it was a woman.

She stepped in carefully, her head turning as she looked around. A pack hung from her left shoulder, and both her hands gripped the strap. She wore a long, deep maroon cloak with short, wide sleeves; bound up at her waist with a broad belt. She had weathered black boots on, and they tread very quietly; and leather bracers around her forearms. She also carried some sort of long, thin object strapped to her back, but he couldn’t tell what it was because it was wrapped up tightly in brown leather. She had slightly-lighter skin than he did, and pitch-black, gently waving hair that she had bound half up and back with a silver clasp, with a few curly tendrils escaping around her face.

She stepped further in, and her eyes caught the overhead light—brilliant, vivid green. Crispian had never seen that color green before.

He blinked.

Around her right eye swirled bright red markings.

But…

She bore no other blemish.

She had both of her eyes, her ears, her nose; her skin was smooth, her lips untouched, her hands intact, her gait hesitant but flawless, so he could tell that her bones were sound and she possessed both her feet.

Crispian frowned hard, baffled.

She stopped on the edge of the small empty space in the center of the room, glanced around, and Crispian saw her hands clench around her strap. She swallowed.

Just then, Magnum strode heavily over to her.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he said to her. She looked up at him—and didn’t flinch at his disfigured face.

“Hello,” she smiled at him.

“You the new healer?” Magnum asked.

“I—yes. Yes, I am.”

“Well, there’s Crispian, if you want to talk to him. He’s the other healer. If you don’t need to ask him anything, you can set up at that table over there,” he pointed. “And I’ll bring you some cider to spice up!”

“Thank you,” she said, a little breathlessly. Magnum shuffled away, leaving her standing there. Crispian started to busily organize his bottles and clean up his small mess, pretending not to pay attention.

“Hello.”

He jumped, and his head came up.

She stood there in front of him, on the other side of the table, wearing a tentatively-bright look, her hands still taut on the strap of her pack.

“Hello?” he answered. And waited.

Waited for her to react to his empty left eye-socket. The wide, vertical scar on his cheek. The stump of his wrist.

“I’m Aiva,” she said, pried her right hand loose of the strap and held it out to him.

Crispian stared at her hand, then up at her red markings. Finally, though, he rested on her green eyes…

Reached slowly up and gingerly took her fingers in his. They felt warm.

“Crispian,” he managed. She squeezed his hand, then let go…

And abruptly stepped around the table to his side of it, and set her pack down on top.

“I’d like to be your friend,” she stated, sitting down on his right side. “I’m…not from here, and I don’t know anyone.”

“You’re Rubrum.” The words fell out of Crispian’s mouth, but he couldn’t come up with anything better on second thought. His mind raced as he marveled at her red markings again—coupled with the complete lack of a single scar anywhere on her.

“Ha. Yes,” she ducked briefly.

“But you’re…not from the Rubrum Quarter?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I’ve actually never been to Tutus before yesterday,” she said, nervously fiddling with the hem on her bag. “I’m a healer from the outer towns, by the Grimmond Woods. They said I was talented enough, I ought to come here. And I did, and they hired me.”

Crispian considered her with new interest.

“You’d have to be talented. If the guards let you in here,” he remarked. “Especially on Memoriae.”

“Yes, what is Memoriae, exactly?” she asked, hushed, turning to look at him. “The owner of this building told me a little, but I’m sure I haven’t got the whole story. And I should probably know if I’m going to be here.”

“They don’t have it in the outer towns?” Crispian wondered.

“No,” she shook her head.

Crispian cleared his throat and frowned a little in disbelief, then glanced out through the room.

“It’s when those of us who are different because of the Odium come together and remember it together,” he explained, still partly-stunned.

“What? I thought the Odium happened a long time ago!” Aiva exclaimed softly. Crispian snorted.

“Not if you count yesterday, or the day before that.”

“It’s still going on? Here in Tutus?” she said, brow furrowing.

“Of course. All the time, almost everywhere,” Crispian said indignantly. “Well…Not as much here in Tutus. Since the Minister takes care of us.”

“Mm. The Minister,” Aivis repeated in a murmur, her gaze unfocusing.

“And…Rubrum here often act like they want to forget about the whole thing,” Crispian went on, trying to weigh her tone. “Most of the time, the Sapphirus stay in our quarter and the Rubrum stay in theirs, and we don’t bother each other. And the people who come in here, in Domus, are from both, but we’re different.” He tilted his head toward his friends. “We’ve all got something in common.”

Aiva gazed at him for a long moment, then out at the others, and fell into a deep silence. Crispian felt it—watched her whole frame settle, and something solemn and mysterious spark in her eyes.

Then, she looked sideways at him, and gave him a small, disarming smile.

“But…I can still be your friend?”

Crispian lifted an eyebrow.

“I’m Sapphirus. You know that, right?”

“So?” she said. And, despite her smile, he could tell she was serious.

He laughed, mystified, and shook his head.

“If you want,” he allowed. “Why not?”

Chapter Three

“Domus”

Throughout the next two months, on every Memoriae, Crispian would find Aiva waiting for him at the Domus, her pack on the square table in front of the fireplace. Whenever he entered, she would smile brightly at him, and greet him when he sat down—which repeatedly confounded him. She watched him as he mixed up his herbs and put them into the ciders, and pressed him with questions about which ones he used, and why. At first, Crispian’s friends hesitated to come up to the table, what with Aiva sitting there—but when they did venture closer, Aiva went quiet, and folded her hands in her lap. Crispian, still silently overwhelmed by how odd she was, would endeavor to talk to his friends as normally as he could muster, until they managed to stop giving Aiva strange looks and talk with him as usual.

But then, a few weeks in, she began to insert friendly comments that made Crispian’s friends smile in startlement, and answer her. Once, she gave Casta such a sweet compliment about her purple scarf that Casta blushed scarlet, hid a smile, and had to leave the table. Crispian watched her go, his mouth partly open, but when he glanced over at Aiva, she didn’t seem to notice—she just flipped through a battered book, intently studying the pages.

The next week, Crispian remarked that Aiva hadn’t yet opened her pack to bring out her own spices, and she smiled crookedly, looking around the room.

“Mine aren’t like yours,” she said. “I’m…not sure people here want them right now.”

“What do you mean?” Crispian asked, uncorking another bottle and pouring its contents into his bowl. Aiva sighed.

“Mine are topical,” she answered. “You have to put them right on the wound. I mean…I have to put them on the wound. They have to let me. And…it hurts quite a bit.”

Crispian assessed the group of his dearest friends—enhanced and soothed by the spices in his cider—all of them vividly talking together about how each obtained the deep marks from the Odium that distinguished them from everyone else. How profoundly their pains penetrated, how much their lives had changed, how far they had come. How comfortable they now felt—but only here, in the Domus. And each one held his trait in tight, guarding it.

“Mhm,” Crispian murmured, and left it at that.

“I don’t remember if I’ve asked you,” Aiva said one evening, after almost everyone had left the Domus to go home. “Where do you live?”

Cups clattered as Magnum gathered several off the empty tables into each hand. Crispian got up and started putting is bottles carefully into his pack.

“I live in the big, empty, spired building in the center of the Sapphirus Quarter,” Crispian told her. “It’s the tallest in the city.”

“Oh, I think I’ve seen that!” Aiva exclaimed, standing up too. “It’s beautiful. What I can see of it, anyway. It’s so dark.”

Crispian looked at her, puzzled.

“Dark? As opposed to what?”

Her eyebrows went up, and then she shrugged.

“I just meant that it’s hard to see the features of the building,” she said. “I can only see the lights on top.”

“Where do you live?” Crispian wondered. “While you’re in the city, I mean.”

“On the outer edge of the Rubrum Quarter,” she answered. “By the Eastern Gate.”

“In the ghetto? Between the tall walls?” Crispian wondered. She nodded.

“With my aunt and uncle.”

“How can you see my building, then?” he wondered, lifting his strap over his shoulders.

She smiled a little.

“Oh, sometimes I climb one of the walls and sit on top of it, and look out over everything. As much as I can see, anyway.”

“That can’t be a very good view,” he remarked. She shrugged.

“Best I can get.”

Crispian nodded, then halfway turned toward the door. Hesitated.

“I’m going home now, and I have to go onto the roof to check those lights. One of them is about to burn out,” he ventured. “You…could come along.” He risked a look over his shoulder at her.

She gazed back at him, her emerald eyes keen, and then her brow furrowed.

“Am I allowed?”

“Well…yes, of course,” he said. “There’s no law against walking through other quarters. It just isn’t safe sometimes. But we can walk up roads that aren’t very busy, and if you stay with me you should be fine.”

He watched for her reaction, his heart suddenly beating tightly—until she grinned and nodded.

“All right. I will.”

He nodded too, answering her smile.

“All right, then. Come on.”

She picked up her own pack, and together they left the Domus and strode out into the night.

The blue streetlamps had dimmed to show it had reached eight at night. Two hours from now, they would go out completely, leaving the whole city in blackness. Crispian walked briskly, gauging which avenue would be best. He could sense Aiva keeping pace just to his right, saying nothing. He led her down a side street, away from the main flow of foot traffic, then up a narrow passage that was only wide enough for two people to travel abreast.

“This will take us almost all the way there,” he told her. His voice echoed against the two close walls of beaten stone. Their feet tapped on dirty cobbles.

“Do you like to hum when you’re walking through here?” Aiva asked.

The edge of Crispian’s mouth accidentally quirked up.

“I…Yes. Sometimes,” he confessed.

“Go ahead, then,” she urged. His smile remained, and he felt his face heating, but she just waited, watching him.

“Erm…All right.” And he hummed a quick, blithe little tune—and in that space, it flittered around through the alley like a sparrow.

“I think I know that song,” Aiva spoke up.

“You do?” Crispian asked. “What words do you know?”

Aiva took a short breath, shot him an uncertain glance, and started singing quietly.

“I have a young sister, far beyond the sea

Many be the presents that she sends to me!

She sent to me the cherry without any stone

And so she did the dove, without any bone!

She sent to me a branch without any bark,

She bade me love my sweetheart without longing!”

Crispian chuckled a little, ducking his head.

“Sing with me?” she asked.

Crispian’s throat closed. He quickly glanced at her, but her brilliant gaze caught him. So he took a breath…

And started singing with her. Even though his voice shook.

“How should any cherry be without a stone?

How should any dove be without a bone?

How can any branch be without bark?

How should I love my sweetheart without longing?”

The two exchanged a bright, unexpected grin, and kept going. The tension in Crispian’s throat melted, and he almost forgot anyone else lived in the city.

“When the cherry was a flower, then it had no stone

When the dove was an egg, it had no bone!

When the branch was a seedling, it had no bark,

And when the maid has that she loveth,

She’s without longing!”

The song finished—and they laughed. Out loud.

It took Crispian completely by surprise—and hurt whole chest, sending strange tingles shooting down through his arms and up into his throat.

But when Aiva laughed, it sounded like the most natural thing in the world—and somehow, it also shocked against the darkness all around them, and the lamplights sharply brightened, which clarified Crispian’s vision further than he remembered seeing in a long time.

Either that, or he was imagining things.

Read this book:https://www.amazon.com/Amatus-Alydia-Rackham-ebook/dp/B01D9877W8/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=amatus+alydia+rackham&qid=1572895189&sr=8-1

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isaacathom · 7 years

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i mean why did Elliot leave anyway. whats his deal. couldve at least called the cops.

like thats the thing. hes a mixed man, did a terrible thing and works with it, tries to be a better man, cool. but he did just like. straight up run. and did nothing about it except lie. how do you even get out of that? like the thing is, aside from getting Seren killed (in a practical sense if not in the actuality of it), he’s also almost singlehandedly responsible for team whatsit getting away. because after he ran and the grunts left seren for dead, they ran and informed their higher ups and everyone got out (who hadnt already been tipped off by the Org, anyway). but if elliot had stuck to his guns or even come back with someone, its likely they would have caught some of them and caused the whole scheme to unravel, or at the very least wouldve captured Jun as he went back for Seren, and Jun wouldve spilled. but nope. Elliot just ran! the fucks up with that.

like. ok. hes a coward, and i get that. hes my character, i should. so hes a coward, and when faced with a physical confrontation and not a pokemon battle, he absolutely fucking panics. hes got his sphere of influence, pokemon, and the idea of fighting a human being (w or w/o pokemon involvement) terrifies this man to his bones. possibly out of some past shit, or just a general cowardice. but he did also leave a kid to die. and lied about it. and again, didnt fetch anyone. is it a fear of prejudice? possibly. you gotta save face. the idea of a proud man, who prides himself on his bravery and skill (despite lacking the former and losing the latter as soon as shit gets tough) having to tell someone he fucked up is, well, pretty bad for that man. really brings him down. so what does he have, if his pride is his life? he runs. he runs, he runs, and he doesnt look back, until he reports Seren missing the next morning and pretends he has no fucking idea he knows where she went. because if Seren is missing because of his deliberate action, taking her into a dangerous attack on a dangerous group and then leaving her behind, it makes him look like an idiot, a cunt, and a coward. but if seren is missing because he left her home alone while doing something dangerous but for the good of all, and he hasnt got an idea what happened, then he seems like perhaps a fool, who made a mistake, but not even remotely malicious. a victim of circumstance, but not one of his own creation. after all, as far as eyewitnesses say, they didnt see anyone enter or leave his house except for him, who returned late in the morning, after supposedly dealing with team whatsit. how he pulled THAT off is also the thing. like..... what happened there

like. alright. so lets say they enter at midnight. 10 minutes later, elliot enters with seren (who he went to collect from his car). maybe 10 minutes after that, they get caught in the ambush. they squirm, Seren manages to free Elliot by kicking the grunts hand, and Elliot runs. so, thats like... 12:25, 12:30 at the latest. seren is probably out cold at 12:30 or 12:35, depending. grunts run up the stairs, inform Jun and his crew. Jun collects Seren at 12:40, and leaves the building via the secret exit by like, 1am. then he goes off. how long he takes to return depends on where the base is (its either desert in the north west or forests in the east. im leaning desert). the assumption there is that the people connected to Jun and above him in the floors managed to get out via the back exit by like, 1:20. where everyone else is at this time, im unsure. the others entered in groups. at least one group went to scope out for exits (which they failed to find because the tunnel is Quite Long and deliberately winding so as to hide lights and people). was every gym leader there? likely not. maybe theres like, 4 groups total. one scopes back, elliot goes in a side door with seren, and the other two groups take two other entrances, with one taking the front door. so where were they? they DID capture some grunts. its possible they didnt really prepare adequately, or werent capable of moving forward without risking the grunts fleeing. so one group, lets say, beats up some grunts and holds them down while waiting for the Org grunts to arrive and help. one might have tried to go on ahead but decided it was unsafe due to a litany of traps. the second group, perhaps, finds the Dud entrance. the one that looks perfectly normal, with noone around, but just like. a normal house or something. they get a lil lost trying to find people inside, fail to do so, and thats them done.

that works. so, all the Team (except the grunts caught by the one group) have left the building by 1:20. when do the people inside realise this? possible its when the Org grunts arrive (conveniently after the team members have either entered the tunnel or left already). so they get that group. the group that got lost is scooped up. so how is Elliot hiding his cowardice? perhaps he left the building, waited for a bit (like 20 odd minutes) and then started wandering the outside of the building, until he caught up to the group searching for exits. and he explains that his opening was a dead end. and, quite conveniently, it is! because after Jun collects Seren, he locks all the doors behind him. so actually Jun is the last to leave. but the door is locked, and maybe even barricaded, so Elliot ‘couldnt get through’. ignoring he probably has some brute force motherfucker, like a ryhorn or a tyranitar or smth. its like smashable rocks logic. or elliot could say he didnt wanna risk building damage in case it put everyone at risk. OOH. perhaps he fetches the group and explains the dead end, and thats where the Org grunts find them, puzzling over the locked door and trying to break in without hurting themselves. Jun’s a thorough man. probably got some grunts to barricade it, maybe even used like, a fire type to meld some shit, you feel me. he wants to get home safe. if absolutely gluing this door will do that, he will.

so that explains that. so, at around 1:30, the org shows up. first goes for the grunt group, then for the lost group, and then finally meeting up with the dead end crew. so around 2:00, everyones sorted. they probably try for the dead end, maybe even FINALLY brute force it, and explore the now empty labs, which have been nicely destroyed by Jun and his grunts while they left. theres very little there. noone suspects Elliot fucked up. if they explored the dead end, then they probably didnt finish up till 3, since they gotta explore it all and go through the tunnel and search the immediate surrounds. ignoring the fact that, had elliot not distracted the outdoors crew, they MIGHT have seen the fleeing team whatsit grunts and found the exit.

elliot then drives home, in his empty car. takes longer than necessary, maybe stops somewhere for a coffee to try and ignore his pain. gets home around 4:30. goes straight to bed to forget. maybe when he wakes up, Seren will be in her bedroom, or crashed on the couch. of course, she isnt when he wakes up, and its late, around 10am (later than normal for him, ofc) when he finally calls up to declare her missing. after first calling her orphanage and the local hospital just in case. the org police arrive soon after. his story is set.

actually that all... basically works? basically. like it works for what i need. its a man with such great pride, such bravado, who cant bear to admit his greater failings and hides them behind smaller ones. after all, whats a dead end to a dead kid?

#story blogging #codename seren #long post #'whats a dead end to a dead kid' fuck me thats some shit i sure wrote. yikes. i wanna keep that #maybe Rhia can say that to Elliot when shes getting all in his face. smash him

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reddogf13 · 5 years

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Between two Voids ch 16

Pennywise x Beverly

summery: It has been 12 years since Beverly was last in Derry. now 26 years old and returning with her boyfriend she strives for a life of normalcy in the small town. Unaware that a certain stalking creature has awakened much earlier than expected. Looking for a challenge to cure its boredom ,in the now crumbling town, IT aims to uproot her life as much as possible. Yet, is that really such a bad thing given her dark situation hidden from all but the eyes of a world eater?

status: complete

rated: M - fowl language and gore

prev chap: Between two Voids ch 15

next chap: Between two Voids ch 17

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~ch:16 The parting ~

“we're leaving Derry.”

one week. one week ago Erik gave her the news that cut her off from everything. She was stuck with Erik, indoors, doing chores like before. Having been unable to see Pennywise since that night a while ago. That night flashed by so fast, yet it repeated so often in her head as if she was still there. Driving them back to the apartment on the dark forest road way.

“yeah, this town has so much freaky shit going down. Me'n the guys decided that it was besh to head back to York. We got a- a- big farm-pharmacy here, but we had more customers in the city.” Erik explained on the way back. Slurring words here and there. “ya happy babe?” smiling at Beverly

“yeah.” remembering the sunken hollow feeling she felt at that moment.

“yeah.” mumbling the answer to herself.

“yeah, what?” Erik voice broke her from the past thought.

“yeah, to a work list I thought of.” making something up on the spot. Her gaze turned toward the ground to avoid Eriks judging one.

“you've been acting super weird for the past few days. Are you sick or something?”

“maybe. Cold weather must be hitting me.” honestly feeling a little truth in her sentence. All the worrying that had built up was weighing on her heavily.

She had decided to leave Derry with Erik, that part was settled. He had been acting nicer to her since she started making money for him. He was only mean because of all the stress he was under. Like she always said it was.

But What was she to do about Pennywise? She would surely have to tell him she was leaving … with Erik. Or would she? She could hide indoors up to the big moving day then leave without even saying goodbye.

“maybe it's best that way.” the knot in her stomach feeling worse at the thought.

Snapping from her thoughts again by Erik speaking. “I'll snag some cold medicine at the store then. Pack some more stuff in the meantime. The longer we stay here keeping low the more money we lose before moving day.” he half mumbled with a swipe of the apartment keys off the counter. The morning after that one night Erik had been shaken by the “police” encounter. Telling everybody to lay low, stop selling the drugs. Save the money up to move everything for the long haul to new York.

Beverley couldn't manage to give an answer as he left. Staring toward the door Erik went through for her gaze to slowly turn around the half empty apartment. All the important things sealed away in moving boxes.

“I'll start packing then. … Gets my mind free of this annoyance for a while.” mumbling to herself over that remaining heated feeling. It had been sticking with her for too long now. When she was with Pennywise in the car she assumed it was him being overly warm while inside. Currently she could only assume that it wasn't really any heat. “has to be agitation from rough play. That whole 30 minutes disappeared in that car. Half the bites on my neck I don't even remember getting. If I didn't feel those I must not have felt any other pain.” hand feeling over the mass rings of dipping scars. Following them up around to the bigger scarred bite over her shoulder. Bringing her hand down to tap the counter a couple times. Breathing in for the energy to go start packing.

Far off under the abandoned Neibolt house Pennywise was resting in the nest he had recently worked on again. Since that one night he had been acting differently.

He had not been on a hunt for days. His time split between waiting outside for Beverly or inside around the fading scent of Beverly in the nest. In some way of distracting himself he fixed up the nest a lot more. Creating more walls to form multiple round rooms. Doing his best attempt at decorating by hanging up some of the prettier blankets. Making wall curtains in a simple way. Thinking in the back of his mind that with the place being more organized it would attract Beverly to stay.

He wasn't the only one to see his new behavior as odd. It scared Henry into moving out to his own place. Mentioning that seeing the other stand around, blankly staring, zoned out for hours was too concerning to be around.

Despite the work he put into the newly decorated nest he wasn't happy with it. It didn't seem good enough, he never felt this way before, he used to be confident on everything. What could be causing this change in him?

“no chance to even show it off. She hasn't left that house. The male must be locking her indoors again. Keeping her separated from me, but he can't do that forever. I can still see her when ever I want. … but she told me not to. She doesn't like it when I enter the apartment.” laying there across the blankets talking to himself. Waiting for her was no longer working. this ache in his chest ever burning furiously while Beverly was away from him. Constantly urging him to get closer, to see her, speak with her, touch her. Swallowing down his drool right as it started dripping from his jaws.

“maybe that pathetic male did something to her.” swallowing at the idea. “go in to check on her. … she cant get angry at that.” readying to rush up to the surface into her apartment. Stopping at the image of Beverly shouting at him that he broke the rules given. When he visited the outside of her apartment earlier he could smell her scent escaping the front door. Lovely violets without any lingering scent of old blood like usual. She had to be okay with the lack of blood in the air.

“Seems she won't be going anywhere today. I could try to fix up the nest a little more.” Thinking to himself while rising to stand. “What more can i do? When she comes out i could set up another food display. She was not much interest in the last display of food. She barely ate any of it, but even humans made fancy food displays. I must have done it wrong. I can make a better one in fancy lighting like what those other humans do.”

“...why am i working so hard for her? … I don't work for anything. What is this infection doing to me!” Roaring up at the nest ceiling. “ … Infatuation…” He growled out the word Beverly once said. Mulling over the words meaning. A minor interest over someone that would die. Except it wasn't dying, so what was the more serious version? “... Love?... I don't- love. … I destroy, i eat, i paralyze others in fear!”

“Love is just a human thing. Something passed from that damned turtle. He always blabbed on about it!” Clawing into the blankets he laid across. At the sound of tearing fabric he calmed himself. Followed by a mild panic at messing up the nest he speedily worked to fix.

“what am i doing? … Love … Is that all it is? Can i get rid of it? … I could if Bev-” his body reacting horribly to the thought of her dying. Same as the thought of her ever leaving. He wanted to have her and not as just a cure for boredom. “is this what love is? This un-killable thing giving urges to protect. To exist for something else? How compromising to a creatures own survival.

Ridiculous this thing, why does it exist?

Hm, it did keep Beverly alive. It was not pack mentality that spared Beverly all those years ago. The good of the group would have been to abandon her or leave bill to my hunger.

If I cannot get rid of it I will have to accept it.” not being fond of accepting something the turtle preached so much about. However, it meant a closer bond with Beverly that warmed his chest.

Where to start on this new plunge into love? First he had to confess it to himself.

“ … do i? Is this feeling true?” fear giving hesitation. “ … I love her.” A comforting warmth off of the confession calming him

“… Yes, i do.” repeating the warmth giving admittance. To him that was a bigger obstacle then it really was. An even bigger one coming forward he needed to face. Confessing to Beverly how he felt. It had to be perfect same as everything else.

“ humans did those confessions on the fancy meal presentations.” Combining two ideas. It needed to be timed perfectly to when she left the house. Not very good to present day old food if he set the presentation before the proper time.

“ i have to talk her into slipping away. I’ll have to break the rules …” Knowing he had to speak with her. That male was keeping her away making it impossible for them a chance at meeting.

“ I'll go in the night while hes sleeping. She’ll be free to talk inside without needing to leave immediately. She’ll think of a way to sneak out from under him.” Thinking excitedly over his plan, especially the fact he was going to see her again.

“What to get?” Switching to how he was to form his special presentation. “The warehouses could have all the things i need.” Standing to his feet on a quest for various items.

Back in the apartment Beverly looked over things in various boxes lined up on the counter. She tried to ignore the heated warmth inside her, but it was becoming too much after suffering so long.

“why can't this damn agitation just leave already?! It's been a week and should have gotten at least a little better by now!” tapping the counter rapidly. “this is ridiculous. The bathroom better have something to medicate this.” walking down the hall into the small room. Searching through the few cabinets for anything useful. Coming across a couple bottles of headache pills, but nothing more. “what did he even do to me?” questioning again what happened that night. “... it was different. First time he used his real parts. Heh, I say that as if the rest were simply toys … oh.” closing her eyes to the conclusion her brain connected with.

why the night was different and why she had this remaining warmth in her core. The parts he used in the past weren't real. So in a way they were toys up until now. His blood defied gravity, wouldn't be surprising to her if other certain body fluids did the same. His real parts were definitely working at the end of that round.

“taking a hot bath will make it easier to clean out.” starting up a hot bath. “god, can't believe I didn't think of it earlier. I guess its because it never happened before.” Gathering fresh clothes in a pile on top of a few towels. Ready to begin her hot bath after setting everything off to the side when ready to leave.

“As if things weren't going weird enough” thinking of how she was to do this. Spending a good chunk of the day working to clean herself. Discovering the little interesting fact that the warm fluid was a bright blue color. Admiring the bright color in the short time it stayed in existence out of her body. Evaporating away in the hot water she soaked under.

Meanwhile Pennywise spent well over the day decorating the presentation. Setting up furniture, lights, how the food would look when he got that. “There, now to set up the … day- gathering- meeting- … Daaaate?” Flipping through the human vocab of what the proper word was. “What time is it? Is it still today?” Going up to the surface after long having lost track of time.

“The night has come. Time to take my chance.” Looking up from the road drain toward the starry sky. Crawling up onto the road to cross the cold snowy tar. Approaching the door he caught the scent of the other rats lingering. Gritting his sharp teeth together at the discovery. He had to be even more cautious about this meeting.

Twisting his body down to walk easier on all fours in front of the door. Giving the large hardwood entrance a small push. A satisfying click of it unlocking into a slow creek open to him. low to the ground, hidden by darkness, he stalked across the living room.

Peeking around the large couch in spying on the rats sprawled about the place. All sleeping on the many couches surrounded by empty beer bottles. A small smile stretching on his face at the sight, however Keeping his stalking steps quiet. Approaching the bedroom quieter than anything. A mild fear of being discovered too early buzzing the back of his skull.

Giving a small push upon that door was met with the same results. Opening enough for him to slip his body in. Cracking small amounts of his limbs to stand up straight. the door behind him closing on the short click of the knob.

Walking up to Beverly's bed in large smooth strides. The golden glow of his eyes glaring toward the sleeping form of Erik Softening to look over Beverly sleeping on her own bed. Her separated from Erik tempted him to pull another trick right under the males nose.

Beverly was asleep in her bed when her body felt something was off. She remaining laying with eyes shut in pretend rest. Listening for any strange noises. “Probably just trey stumbling to the bathroom.” Remembering everyone was sleeping in the living room after another drinking party.

Tensing up at a weight moving over her. Opening her eyes expecting it to be Erik wanting to have fun. at the sight of Eriks form still in his bed she jolted up about to scream. Stopped by a hand covering her mouth. Shutting her eyes out of fear when who ever pushed her back down in such little effort.

“Beverly.” She opened her eyes to Pennywise hovering over her. He removed his soft gloved hand from her when she saw it was only him.

“What are you doing here?!” Whispering to him as she gave a quick glance toward Erik Checking to be sure he was unaware of another person suddenly in his room.

“I came to see you.” Replying in a soft voice. Remaining crouched over her laying form. Moving back a bit when she sat up.

“You can't be here! You’re not allowed!” Reminding him.

His voice turning even softer this time at being scolded. “I wanted to see you. You stopped visiting.” A twinge hitting Beverly's heart seeing him so sad or maybe it was just her feeling guilt. She could have honestly visited him at any time. Erik was more tolerant of her going out for a few minutes. As long as it was for a task such as buying beer.

Beverly sat in silence thinking to herself on if “does he know? Did he over hear Erik talking about the move?” Swallowing a nervous lump in her throat.

“I-i haven't been able to.” Working to look as honest as possible to keep him from catching her lies. “You shouldn't be here.” Turning the conversation away from why she didn't visit.

“I want to talk to you.” Unintentionally making her more anxious.

“Pen, this isn't a good place to talk. I - … I'll visit later. Okay?” Hoping it would satisfy him enough to leave soon.

“Can it be tomorrow? At the nest?” Asking as soon as the words left her mouth.

“Umm, Yeah, I'll visit afternoon. Okay?” her voice almost mumbling. Swallowing thickly at him staring down at her. “Does he think i am lying?” She wondered under his unblinking stare.

“May i rest with you?”

“Rest- rest here?! With Erik only 5 feet away?!” Exclaiming the first words before correcting her volume.

“Yes. He hasn't woken yet. I'll leave before he does, i promise.” He sounded so passive to her. Maybe even somewhat worried about her rejecting the idea.

“Why?” She thought. He never was this careful on asking to stay before. She should tell him to go and yet she really wanted him to stay. It felt nice that he visited even after being told not to. “One last night hanging out together before the news couldn't be too bad, right?”

“... Okay, but don't do anything else. Sleep only.” Making sure he heard her clear. Adjusting herself to lay back down she waited for him to do the same. Covering them both in a thin blanket that normally didn't keep the cold away. Having him under the covers laying over her feeling much more cozy.

It wasn't only his warmth comforting her. His mere presence swept her anxieties away. Ones she didn't even think would ever go away. She always felt the same every night a anxious tenseness. Ready for something to happen if she tried to sleep. She always took is as normal since that's how her childhood went expanding into her adult life. This tenseness, prepared to run, ready to fight when ever going to sleep. Fearing that when the sleep was disturbed she would have to fight. The feeling momentarily hidden away in sleep.

Shifting her arms out from under the covers she hugged around his neck. Burying her face into him in another way to be closer. His arms shifting to hug around her. Moving his face besides hers to block her vision of Erik. His chest burning the painful ache away while he rested with her. He never wanted to leave this moment.

Time seeming to pass almost instantly while he enjoyed the time. Sadly watching the curtains brighten under the morning sunlight. He would have to leave soon before Erik would wake.

Startled by the sudden loud noise of an alarm clock. Growling at the inanimate object for disturbing his peace. Shifted back by Beverly pressing him away with one hand as the other lunged out to beat it into silence. Taking deeps breaths to calm herself after another glance toward Erik confirming he was still asleep. Resting back down for a moment to rub her face of the last bit of exhaustion upon waking.

Thinking it was time for him to go he rose up. Ready to move off of her when Beverly stopped him.

Taking a hold of his arm. “Wait, come on.” pulling for him to follow. Without a word he did as was told. Sneaking along with her to the hallway door. Standing by as she carefully peeked out for anyone looking their way.

“Come on.” Gesturing him to follow further with a quiet walk to the bathroom. He stopped outside the door. Seeing him do so she gestured for him to come in.

“You want me to enter the bathroom?” Questioning if that's what she wanted. He knew how important that space was to her. How she never wanted him to enter it, that was one of the other rules he shouldn't break.

“Yes! Come on!” Gesturing to him again in a more urgent manor. “Before someone sees!”

Hearing that he slipped into the bathroom. Carefully standing by while Beverly locked the door. walking back around him to start a shower. Rushing to strip herself in front of him.

“Take your clothes off and jump into the shower!” Rushing her words out as well.

“Why? Despite living under the earth i promise you i stay clean.” Continuing to enjoy her disrobing.

“It's not for that!” Laughing about what he said. “You can stay longer if we hide in the shower a little while.” Starting to strip him.

“Can we do more then hide?” Stripping himself the rest of the way with a snap of his collar.

“no, we need to stay really quiet.” Chuckling as she lightly tugged him into the shower. Standing next to him under the falling water. Holding in more laughter at seeing him standing over the high faucet.

“Maybe a bath would be better?” Asking up to him. Switching the water flow for a bath to be made. Directing him in how to lay down in the tub. Laying herself down on top, her back against his chest. Most of him still not under water, but still the better option.

Relaxing back into him for a time enjoying the moment. It possibly being one of the last few moments with him. Wondering what he wanted to meet about later“I bet it's to convince me to visit more. Planning another bet to snag me when i say i can't.” Thinking of what the topic could be. “How should i tell him? … Could i even go through with it?” Questioning herself in thought.

Freezing up by hearing the not too far bedroom door open.

“Shit, i didn't make his breakfast.” Mumbling out the thought on accident. Jumping at Erik banging on the door. Needing to quickly hush Pennywise from his defensive growling.

“What are you doing in there?” Erik shouted from outside the door. although not sounding mad, yet.

“Bathing.” Answering barely above a whisper.

“Get out! I need to get in!” He snapped outside the door.

“Okay.” Passively answering his command.

“Time to split.” Whispering to the large male she was bathing with.

“See you later then, darling.” He spoke slowly as he watched her leave the bath. Disappearing before she could glare at him for the nickname, as usual.

“Our talk about that is not going to happen. Should we even talk later? If i pack fast enough and convince Erik to leave today i wouldn't have to.” Swallowing over the developing sickness in her stomach.

After getting dried, with a fresh set of clothes, she went right up to Erik “Honey, if i get everything packed today, can we leave today?” Using the little courage she managed to muster up in speaking.

“Depends on how late you finish. I aint driving anywhere when it gets dark. Be my fuckin luck we run into the one moose roaming around this damned place.” He answered. Still sounding half asleep while drinking a canned beer.

“ I'll get it done by afternoon. Can we leave after?”

“Yeah fine, get it done. I am taking a shower. Make sure you get my breakfast ready too. Same with lunch, i won't be driving while starved either.” Grumbling on his way to the bathroom.

“Yes, honey.” Speaking happily as a weight lifted off her. Bolting off to make Eriks food. Not taking time to make herself something so she could get straight to packing.

Doing so carefully around Erik to not bother him. Using the duct tape as quiet as possible. Trying not to let the bubble wrap crinkle too much. Erik didn't like all the noise she was making, but didn't bother with her. She was indeed making the time to have everything packed so he had no complaints.

Making her last rush around the apartment for anything left behind. Double checking before telling Erik she was finished. Only leaving the bigger furniture pieces unable to be packed.

“Okay.” He mumbled the reply while texting on his flip phone. Seeing his disinterest she worried about him having changed his mind.

“Are-are we leaving soon?” Anxiously asking.

“Yeah, me and the guys have to finish up some things. We’ll snag a truck afterwards.” He half mumbled, still texting.

“ will we be able to leave by afternoon?” Asking for a more specific answer. Treading carefully to not agitate him on all the questions.

“Eh, maybe somewhere around afternoon-ish. Like 3:00 or something.” The time given was a punch to the gut for Beverly All this work yet she still had to face the clown in a few minutes.

She would have to go or risk him hunting her down to talk again. She really didn't want to break the news while Erik was so close.

“E-Erik can i go out?” Immediately she was given a suspicious look from him.

“Why?!” He demanded to know.

“Get more food. For the trip, it's a long way to new York. … Only 10 minutes to the shop and back.” Working to reassure him she wouldn't be long.

“ … Only 10 minutes.” Glaring with a head tilting gesture for her to go. She nodded to him before rushing out the door. Heading for the river pipe to head towards the clowns nest.

Still questioning herself on what to say. How he was going to react to the news. What if he didn't take her seriously? What if he tried getting her into some lifetime bet. Could she refuse one … would she refuse one?

“No, i have to. If i outright tell him i am serious he’ll get angry. He’ll storm off to ignore me. Then i can leave, without trouble, out of Derry.” Thinking it over. Following some loose script of what to say for the big news. What to say to his reactions in the aftermath.

She went down river, through the drainage tunnels,surprised half way by Pennywise happily greeting her.

“you made it here! Follow me, i have a surprise!” Excitedly announcing to her before she could really talk.

“Pen i-” was all she managed to get out as he encouraged her deeper into his large den. Staying quiet for the time being so that he could show whatever he had.

“i don't want gifts.” she reminded him. He made a surprise that had to be some sort of a gift. It didn't matter what it would turn out to be she would still reject it.

“it's not a gift, you'll see.” directing her up to a doorway at the back of the orange lit wagon. The usually opened siding was shut, another noticeable detail was the nest opening being gone. Closed off by more layers of webbing hiding the space away.

With a small creek he opened the backstage door for her. Revealing the new nest opening of it being attached to the other open doorway of the wagons front.

“I made the front different. To make it easier for you to come and go without my help.” He explained, gesturing her to continue deeper.

Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves she walked onward. “I have a feeling this won't be ending well. At least there's an open escape path.” Thinking as they walked. Further into the nest Beverly could see a bright blue glow lighting up the new tunnels. Turning a corner had her seeing blue Christmas lights lighting along the tunnels ceiling.

“Lights? Is this what you wanted to show me.” Looking around had her seeing much more decorating then before. Nice blankets carefully arranged along the walls. Random shiny ornaments embedded into the wall webbing. Beverly wondered where it all came from as Christmas was still a little over a month away.

“There's more, keep going.” Gently moving her forward.

Beverly's worrying worsening from that. “More?! What more could there be?!” Questioning in thought. Her questions all answered at their arrival at the nests core. More Christmas lights strung around a nicely crafted wooden table. Laid across it was a large feast resembling one thanksgiving dinner off a magazine cover down to the fake holly berry branches scattered around.

Massive roasted turkey on a wooden carving board. Big various bowls of different vegetables. Mashed potatoes, stuffing, a few different pies and a silver gravy boat filled to the brim.

She was left standing there stunned over it. It wasn't like the last buffet he made at the hotel. Confused as to why he put in all his effort into this. To show off or simply more gifts to win her over with?

“Do you like it?” Eagerly asking for an answer.

“I uh, it's great, but i can't stay to eat.” Answering in an awkward mumble. Turning to face him to give him the news.

“... I am going to be leaving Derry today … With Erik. I came to say goodbye.”

Pausing at his serious expression holding unblinking eyes intently staring down on her.

Anxiously swallowing a lump in her throat. “i should leave.” Hesitating on what else she should say. When she was about to speak he ended up saying something first. Something catching Beverly completely off guard.

“I love you.” He quickly stated. The sudden confession causing her to laugh.

“What? Don't say that.” Chuckling awkwardly. At first she thought he was only repeating sayings out of whatever holiday magazine he read.

“Why not? Did i do something wrong? Is the food arranged wrong? Am i supposed to wait for a time? I can do it again to make it perfect.” Anxiously asking her. His reaction having this feel less of a attempt to just make her stay to something more serious.

“No, we’ve been over this. We can't-”

“Why?! I love you!”

“Stop saying that!” She snapped. “You can't!”

“But i do! I love you! Please don't leave!” He painfully spoke.

“You’re not allowed to say that! Stop saying it!” Glaring up at him. Needing to turn away momentarily to stop the rising tears.

“What did i do wrong?” His voice asking so delicately yet it felt like a knife in Beverly's chest.

“ a lot of things that can't be forgiven. You tried to kill me, the guys, … What happened with bills brother Georgie. All the countless other kids over how many centuries. … That doesn't go away. … ...You’re not human, it wont work. ...

I don't ever want to see you again.” Managing to get the last sentence out before the tears fell.

This wasn't how it was suppose to go. He wasn't supposed to be sad and her angry. “i have to go.” Ending their meeting with her leave. Pennywise making no attempts to stop her. Watching her leave his sight for the last time without a word said.

“Was i too late? What went wrong?” Asking himself. Looking over the display he took hours to make as perfect as possible. “She's leaving with that male.” Despair filled him the most over that knowledge. Claws threatening to shred through his gloves at the imagery of her stuck under that male. “ i can't let that happen. She doesn't have to be with me, but I won't let him keep her trapped any longer! I’ll need to work fast before she can leave.” Pulling himself together for more work to be done.

Beverly had run the entire way to the store. Catching up the time she was suppose to have lost getting here in the first place. Hiding in a back corner near some loud produce fridges to drown her low crying. Wiping away the flowing tears as fast as they came.

“Why am i crying? Who am i so angry at?” Wiping away more tears with her sleeve at the thought. “Am i mad at myself for doing that? Should i have stayed? He was so sad, i didn't think he could get like that.” His confusion hitting her the hardest. How was she supposed to reject him? Tell him he was a horrible monster for what he did in the past. That despite all he did he deserved to be alone.

“Fuck, stop crying.” Scolding herself. She had to buy stuff to rush back to Erik with. Grabbing chips, candy, and sodas randomly to get the store trip over with.

Rushing back fast enough to make it “on time”. Fixing herself up one last time before entering.

“Erik? I am back.” She announced from the kitchen. Having not seen Eriks presence anywhere.

“He said he was doing last minute stuff with the guys.” Brushing off him not being around. Stopping when she saw a note on the apartment fridge.

“Needed to help talk the guys with the truck dealers on a sale. Meet us at the dealers, babe, so you can drive back one one of the trucks we’ll be getting.” Signed by Erik with a sloppily written address below. After taking a few minutes deciphering it she walked the way there.

Not liking the look of the rundown shopping area. Lined with closed shops or rundown ones full of sketchy groups loitering by the doors. Cautiously watching her surroundings as she was becoming the popular thing to stare at.

Letting out a deep breath when spotting the truck dealership up ahead. Spotting Erik yelling with everybody else toward the 3 truck dealers who looked unintimidated by Eriks loud group. Seeing Beverly, Erik rushed over to her.

“Here's the keys to one truck! Hurry and drive it outta here! We tricked some rookie sap into giving us 3 trucks for the price of one, but the owners are catching on to the error.” Explaining quickly as he put keys into Beverly's hand. Shoving her out of view before the truckers spotted her.

Beverly rolled her eyes walking around the back of the building. Looking at the key number to match with the correct numbered truck. Stepping over massive potholes taking over the large lot. Happy to be driving out of this sketchy part of town.

“10, 11, 12, 13 -” she counted out. Giving too much attention to the trucks to notice a strange man following her around the trucks. Weaving around the vehicles with looks around for any others who would interfere with what he was about to do.

Surprising her was a pair of arms grabbing a hold of her. the strange man covering her mouth as he dragged her fighting between two large trucks.

#It (2017)#pennywise #beverly marsh #pennywise x beverly marsh #12 years after movie #between two voids ch 16 #beverly still kicks pennywise's ass

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