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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years

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COSMIC - S3:E4; Chapter Four, The Sauna Test - [Pt. 5 - FINAL]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝘌𝘭, 𝘔𝘢𝘹 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘠/𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘍𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘙𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘯, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘓𝘺𝘯𝘹.

📝: you have... NO IDEA how long i have been sitting on this one. Just... wow okay. And this is just the beginning, wait till you see the cabin scene 👀 Edit: tell me why I had the main chorus of Timber Feat. Ke$ha in my head on infinite loop while writing the fight scene 🤦‍♀️ LMAO

⚠️: asphyxiation [aka suffocation], several mentions of blood, and graphic (?) depictions of violence throughout. Also, long chapter

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

"MAX! LET ME OUT OF HERE!"

Everyone watched stilled, with pounding hearts as Billy's billowing cries echoed out across the weight room. No one more so than Max. He had barely taken his eyes off of her and his voice fell into a weakened plea.

"Let me out,"

And then it was gone. Replaced with a malice-filled hiss that was beginning to feel a little too familiar for their liking. One by one his eyes flicker between the party members with a twitch in his eye as he began to shift, eyes darting past their shoulders and sweeping the room before his next glare.

"You kids," he pants, each breath like swallowing smoke. "you think..." he was swallowing embers. "this is funny?"

Mike and Lucas share a nervous glance.

Another heaving breath, the flames now licking his lungs.

"You kids think this is some kind of sick prank, huh?" With a snarl, he rears his head back and spits on the glass. "YOU LITTLE SHITS THINK THIS IS FUNNY?!"

Anxiously, Max eyes Will from where he stands beside El and he meets her gaze. The two seem to share the same thought. It was working.

But the sauna's prisoner had caught on, and as the fire was rekindled in his veins, he shifted nervously again; eyes darting once more around the room before landing on the two.

"OPEN THE DOOR!" They all flinch when he throws himself against the window in a fury. He was growing more frantic. And he wasn't stopping. "OPEN THE DOOR! OPEN THE DOOR!" He pressed his nose against the glass, showcasing his darkening eyes. "OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR!"

The fire was now ablaze, the blood in his veins felt as if it was actually boiling, cooking him from the inside out and he finally collapsed on the sauna floor with a groan. Will took that as his cue and raced to the thermometer on the wall where the needle rested at the end.

"We're at two-twenty,"

When he returned to El's side, a great wail reverberates from within the sauna followed by a great many thumps.

"It's not my fault," he weeps, catching them all by surprise. "It's not my fault, it's not my fault, Max. I promise it's not my fault."

With a pounding and aching heart, Max crept towards the sauna door. Many eyes darted after her, fearfully, dealing between her and the only barrier protecting her from what lay inside.

"What's not your fault, Billy?" She asks.

When she peers behind the foggy glass, her heart threatens to split in two; he sits before her on the tile floor, beads of sweat blending with his tears and his hands glued together in plea as he looks up at her.

"I've done things, Max," he sobs, his voice threatening to break. "Really b... bad things and I didn't mean to."

As Billy peers up at his sister now, he can feel himself slipping again. He tries so hard to hold onto that sliver of himself, drifting away into the dark. His hands wring together as he pleads, his nails raking into his skin to stop himself - to stop Him - from winning.

His sanity was slipping and everything in him was screaming for him to do violent, inhumane things to the girl before him but he fought it. Billy knew he didn't have much time, and it was getting harder to think. And Billy spat the words from his tongue before he considers the repercussions from the shadow.

"He made me do it,"

Max was certain she knew the answer now. She knew it even as she stood in the living room facing her brother just twenty-four hours ago. But she had let herself believe the tempting lie over the bitter truth that the Shadow Monster had not gotten Billy. But she knew she had to. And so she asked.

"Who made you do it?"

Fear flashed in his eyes as he wept. He looked as something was trying to stop him, and Max knew very well something was, but he managed the words anyway; unknown to all, his final warning. The words that confirmed all their darkest fears and chilled their bones.

"I don't know, it was like a shadow. A giant shadow,"

Y/n's heart leaps into her throat, and her brows knit together in a curious frown when she sees El and Will meet eyes in matching grave expressions. They share a knowing look and nod, and silently they form a wall, herding Y/n behind them. It was likely they had made a prior agreement, she realizes, but her worries still remained on her other best friend inches from the glass.

"Please, Max," Billy weeps.

"What did he make you do?" Max asks through a wavering voice.

"It's not my fault," He cries suddenly, sinking into the sauna bench. "okay, Max?! Please! Please!"

At the sound of his broken cries, Max's eyes squeeze shut, and hot tears slide down her cheeks as she faces the small window. Her heart is torn, but she tries to remain strong.

"Please, believe me, Max! I tried to stop him, okay? I did."

He's trying even now, but the darkness is closing in. Her tearful face is blurring from his vision and he's losing the grip on his body without realizing it. He can already feel the shadow breaking free from his hold when his arm creeps across the tile floor without his permission.

"Please, believe me, Max. Please believe me,"

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she reaches out to Billy; her hand on the glass and speaks through her breaking voice.

"Billy, it's gonna be okay,"

The darkness was spreading to his vision, closing in on his sister and he knew he had only moments. They had only moments. There was no telling when the shadow would let him resurface. As Billy disappeared, he spoke what little warning he could before the shadow stole his voice.

"Max please..." -get away, his mind screams. But the words didn't come. Go away. Get out while you can.

She hadn't heard him. It was too late. The hand that lied hidden beneath the sauna bench, had already found a weapon.

"It's gonna be okay, we want to help you," Max swears through stinging tears.

His fingers curl around the broken and jagged tile.

"We want to help you. You just have to talk to us, okay? You have to talk us."

All too well indeed. He felt it even now.

Will's eyes had never left the sauna door, drilling holes through the glass even when the man had collapsed to the ground. Billy's haunted cries had reached Will in a way it never could the others. He knew the feeling all too well.

An unnatural chill zapped the air despite the muggy atmosphere and his whole body seized up. His hair stood on end and the skin over his body tightened, goosebumps breaking out out all over his skin.

He's activated.

-"What?"

Will has little time to look at Mike and Y/n and realize he had uttered the words aloud before looking back to Max.

"Max, get away from the door," he cautions.

Taken by surprise at his sudden request, Max hesitates. "What?"

"GET AWAY FROM FROM THE DOOR! NOW!"

Max had barely heeded Will's warning when the glass burst inches from her face as Billy hurled his arm through the window. El jumped back, sweeping both her arms in an effort to protect her friends. And with miraculous timing, Max had dove to the left just in time to escape the confetti of glass shards but her arm had not been so lucky.

While he had dropped his tile shard his hand had caught her bandaged forearm in his iron grasp and yanked. She yelped in pain, using the traction of her shoes against the linoleum to keep herself away.

"LET ME OUT, YOU BITCH!" He howls, tugging her arm as she attempts to pry and claw her way free. "I'LL FUCKING GUT YOU!"

"NO!" Came the sudden angered cry of Y/n Henderson as she forcibly broke free from the wall El and Will had created. She pushed their shoulders aside and sprinted forward, throwing her hand out before her. "LET HER GO!"

A powerful blasts burst forth from her palm and Billy cried out, yanking his hand back. He withered for only a moment, a loud hissing breath sucked in from between his clenched teeth as he visibly shook in anger. His hair was still dripping and it hung like a dark curtain over his eyes, but she could see it - they all could. The whites of his eyes were harder and harder to see as he looked upon his festering arm.

Max had scrambled away from the wall, back into the safety of El and Y/n's protection but Y/n didn't flinch.

He was pissed, but so was she.

In an instant, he throws his head up to look at her, his drenched curls landing on top of his head and draping over his seething face. His darkened eyes locked on her, his gritted teeth clenched so hard his entire body shook with fury. His expression finally matched his eyes from the previous night and confirmed to Y/n it had been the Mind Flayer to have spoken to her at Heather's. Never Billy.

What followed next, had unfolded all at once.

His screams return and he bangs his fist against the door once before yanking out the lead pipe and chucking it at Y/n.

She ducks just in time, and El swipes it out of the way, sending it flying into the wall with the flick of her head before it could hurt any of the others. And Lucas releases the pull on his wrist rocket he had trained on the man since he scrambled to load it when the glass first broke.

With an audible snap, the ammo was released and sent flying into its target; crashing into Billy's forehead.

A second time he was sent tumbling to the sauna floor, disappearing from their view with an even louder thump.

"Y/n, come on!" Lucas cried.

She wasted no time, scurrying back to the safety of her friends who engulfed her into their surrounding figures. Their heads all snap towards the ceilings when the hum of the lights grow stronger and everything begins to flicker.

Billy's insides churn with a disgruntled choke, his mouth spitting out fluids as he comes to. With a groan, his body spits and writhes on the floor. The icy storm in his veins spreading. And festering.

Joined shoulder to shoulder, the huddled party backed up in one circle. Each of them faced away from one another, looking around worriedly as the rows of florescent lights flicker violently above them. They all close in on Y/n in a protective stance.

Billy's body twisted and thrashed on the tile floor as he attempted to heave himself up to his feet. The grip of the Mind Flayer had broken free from the barriers of his mind and was coursing all throughout his body, the dark mass staining the very blood in his veins and poisoning his system. Dark lesions broke out all over his back and arms, and black veins rippled out under his skin, all across his body as he clutched the wall. Throwing back his head, Billy released an inhuman, agonized wail before charging for the door.

A second time they all jumped, and a second time El's arms swept out to protect her friends - finally including her Max. Their horror-stricken eyes were fixed on the door as Will inched closer to Y/n, and Max spoke through a fearful waver.

"He can't get out, can he?" She frets as he barrels into the door a second time, the chains testing the pipe anchored to the wall.

Fear gripped his heart and Lucas shook his head, voice filled with doubt in his own words. "No way. No. Way,"

"Y/n, get back," El orders in a flat voice, her tilted head unblinking on the door. "Go with Will."

Y/n gawked over El's shoulder, frantically looking between the door, her best friend, and a pleading Will who grabbed for her hand.

"What? No! No, bullshit! We agreed!"

"Y/n, come on," Will urged, tugging a little harder on her hand.

It grew hot under his touch and she ripped it from his grasp. "No. I need to do this," Y/n cried, her head whipping back and forth between her boyfriend and the fraying thread that was the bowing sauna pipe; the last defense holding back the Mind Flayer's newest host.

The door stopped moving and one split, heart-stopping moment a thunderous cry barreled out deep from within Billy's chest.

The door was thrown open, the pipe bursting from the wall and expelling puffs of steam as Billy tumbled through the open door. The Party jumped back in shrieks, El on the front lines pushing everyone behind her, even still.

With a lumbering breath, the fluorescents still flickering madly above them, Billy rose to his feet to meet eye to eye with the wrong girl. With a fear-inducing glare and an overpowering sense of protectiveness, El had forcibly barricaded herself in between the Mind Flayer and her best friend.

He curled back his teeth, a growl growing in the back of his throat. He was ready to wring her neck but she simply rose a single hand in the air, and the nearest barbell rose with it. In the blink of an eye, Billy was pinned against the brick wall by his neck, gasping for breath.

Everyone watched on in a mixture of shock and awe as El threw another arm up, and the weights sunk deeper into the brick, crumbling them near his head. She was panting for breath, nose dripping with blood but she was determined.

And she wasn't the only one.

"Y/n-!"

But she ignored the Party's cries, as well as the pleas in her gut screaming for her to turn tail and run. But she couldn't stand by and do nothing as El faced it all alone - nor could she sit still when she saw the very monster she had faced the prior year, wearing the very face that plagued her dreams in her last sleep. Y/n Henderson didn't walk away. She couldn't.

Y/n stormed to El's side, throwing her arms up in sync with two large and billowing waves of heat that filled the entire room. Billy howled as the heat consumed him completely, the black veins festering underneath his skin. Across the sauna, Mike and Will watch on in a mixture of awe and worry as El and Y/n stand side by side, their arms extended as they fight with great strain and their guttural cries begin to blend.

Tears pricked Will's eyes as he watched the scene unfold, frightened not only for Y/n's life but El's. He truly feared what the Mind Flayer might be capable of in someone like Billy Hargrove. And already he had every right to be.

What came next stole the breath right out of his chest.

With a husky grunt and a terrifying spur of adrenaline, Billy heaved and broke El's telepathic hold, sending the barbell flying for their heads. With matching screams, they throw themselves to the floor, avoiding the otherwise inevitable blunt force trauma by a hair's width. He stormed to their bodies piled together on the floor. Learning his lesson and counting every precious second, Billy grabs a fist full of El's hair and drags her to her feet and off of Y/n's body. She yelps out in pain, clawing to get free but he had already thrown her into the wall she had just pinned him to. Her head collided with the brick and she sunk to the floor, fighting to keep her eyes open and vision clear but she was losing her battle.

Mike and the others cried out to her, unable to reach her but her blurring vision was fixed on the sight of Billy closing in on Y/n's body. She threw her arms up with a vengeful grunt, her skin beginning to glow. The ground begins to shake and all their hopes rise with Y/n as pulls herself onto one wobbly knee. The spidery veins adorned her eyes, lips, and ears, heat pulsing from her palms as her light began to illuminate the weight room.

And like a candle's flame, it was extinguished under Billy's hand.

Her grunts died in her throat when his hand encircled her throat, cutting off all her air. What strength he possessed as Billy Hargrove had doubled with the Mind Flayer and lifted the young girl above his head with ease.

Y/n tried crying for help but her voice was lodged in her throat with the rest of her breath, leaving her no choice but to claw at Billy's arms as she fought for air and freedom. Her legs were finally listening to her brain's signals, kicking and squirming as she tried to reach him or even the ground but they never did, no matter how close she got. Just as she had foreseen.

"Y/N!" The others cried.

She gasped and choked for breath, any whisp of air she could possibly manage between his fingers as she tried to conjure a fight, but she was losing concentration. She was losing air.

All she saw beside the white spots swallowing her vision were the seething eyes of the Mind Flayer peering up at her. And as he watched the life drain from her eyes, he hissed to the one he had been waiting in agony for all these months his final greeting.

"You."

Y/n could barely hear him over the cries of her frantic friends, nor could she barely register the repetitive snap of Lucas's wrist rocket as he sent rocks flying into Billy. But this time, Billy resisted. Out of spite, or with the aid of the Mind Flayer's mutation, none of them knew but with El out cold on the floor and unreachable without crossing through Billy, little options were left.

And Lucas was already running low.

Y/n's hands latched onto Billy's wrist, at first, seemingly trying to pry herself away as she sucked in as much air as she could capture. And as her bulging eyes began to flutter, she manages to speak through choking, gasping breaths.

"Fuck... you."

Latched hands had locked on and began to glow and Billy's eyes fell to her grip. The skin beneath her palms began to sizzle and a agonized cry grew deep within Billy at her searing touch. And yet still he held, but the same could not be said for Y/n. Like El, she was fighting to remain conscious.

And Lucas had run out of ammo.

Lucas and Will seemed to share the same thought as everything had unfolded within an instant. And with an angered cry, Will charged forward just as Lucas chucked his metal wrist rocket at Billy's head.

His grip still iron clad over Y/n's throat, Billy's head whipped to the party as fast as his other hand stopped in front of his face, catching the wrist rocket mid-air. And just in time for Will to reach him. Billy reared his arm back and smacked the butt end of the wrist rocket into the boy's head, knocking him to the ground without ever blinking.

"Will!"

Those that remained stood back, watching terror-stricken as Y/n begins to grow limp, her eyes rolling back in her head.

Tears prick Mike's eyes as the sights surrounding him become too much; one of his best friends dying before his eyes, and the two people he had probably loved most in the world, fading on the floor. And he snaps into action.

He looks around wildly, thanking whatever force was out there that the burst pipe from the sauna was near his feet. He picked it up in an instant, charging forward with a sudden surge of adrenaline, and crashed it into Billy's skull.

Y/n dropped to the floor, gasping for breath as she rolled away from Billy's fallen body. Mike towered over the man as Y/n came to, a vengeful look in his eyes as he swung the pipe back above his head.

"GO TO HELL YOU PIECE OF SHIT!"

With all the force he could possibly muster, Mike threw the pipe down at Billy's back but it had stopped inches from his face. In the blink of an eye, Billy had turned, catching it in his single fist with as much ease as the wrist rocket.

Mike gasped in horror as Billy seethes up at him, much too frightened to even flicker to the sight of Y/n wobbling up onto her hands and knees and risk giving her away. She was coughing on every wheezing breath, her lungs and throat burning but she still felt a spark big enough to hold onto.

Will had just started to come to, the sideways vision of the weight room floor showing to him two things: Billy chucking the pipe against the wall with an earsplitting clang and Y/n's heaving chest swallowing desperate, gulping breaths, the blood steadily draining from her face.

He tried to move to her, but his limbs were heavy. All he managed to do was hoist himself up onto his arms as tears fell from his eyes, slowly pulling himself along as the world began to steady. But he never reaches her in time. Billy had begun to rise, and yet the beginnings of a smug smile curled Will's lips as his eyes trailed her across the room.

Anger battled impatience within the Mind Flayer at the unrelenting children, but killing this one - the Wheeler boy - would be easy. At least, it would have been had it not been for the young girl emerging with the two hot blasts of searing heat raining down upon his exposed chest as Y/n unleashed her fury upon him.

A primal scream grew from deep within her belly, ripping up her throat as she circled back around to face him, arms outstretched before her in two taut claws. What little space he had created from himself and the weight room floor had vanished as the blasts intensified with her screams.

The fluorescent lights about their heads were flashing violently now, enunciating the matching veins each opponent bore. The buzzing of the lights was nearly as loud as the rumble of the shaking room and the cracking of the tile that sounded eerily like thunder. The two blurring bursts of energy were pouring from her palms and pinning Billy into the tile so hard the tile floor cracked beneath him.

His screams blended with hers, the light pouring from her skin illuminating his agonized face and she pushed harder. her arms dug closer to his chest and the deep and inhuman voice returned; the voice of the Mind Flayer cried out in pain.

Y/n felt the sudden force of Billy's untouched leg sweep under her own, knocking her off her feet. The Mind Flayer coughed and hacked once more, and threw himself over her as she lied on her back. His hands were around her throat again, yanking her up before slamming her back into the ground.

With the strobing, flickering lights disorienting their already obscured vision the others could barely make out Billy hunched over something on the floor. His haunched, vein painted back nearly in ribbons as blood drizzled down his back like rain on a window. It didn't take them long to put together the pieces, Y/n's name on their weeping tongues as Billy repeatedly threw her back into the tile until she steadily lost consciousness. Finally, after one last gust of power, he thrust her into the tile and releasing her throat. But only to raise one darkening, blistering fist into the air, ready to strike...

Horrified screams tore from their throats, each of them prepared to tackle Billy. Will had finally stumbled to his feet for the first time without falling, ready to do just that but something had stopped him.

Billy froze, growing horrified as he himself began to choke.

A body hidden away in the shadows that had finally fought her way back into consciousness for the sake of her loved ones

There she was in all her glory.

El, rising to her wobbling knees; the sound of Y/n's broken cries and gasping pleas for help that broke through her subconscious mind had been the final push of adrenaline she needed.

Like Y/n, El's grew from deep within as she pulled herself to her feet, arms outstretched. Steadily, Billy's body was pulled off of Y/n's until even his toes had left the ground. He was pulled far away from the young girl's body as El circled him, once again placing herself in between the Mind Flayer and the girl she couldn't lose.

Will took the advantage El had bought for them and closed the remaining gap, collapsing at Y/n's side. He breathed a sigh at unimaginable relief when he saw her chest moving with labored breaths. She was alive. Hoisting Y/n's bloodied head into his folded legs, he returned his worried sights to El just in time to see her give a great roar, hurling her clawed hands to the side and watching as Billy was thrown through the brick wall in an explosion of dust.

El's knees buckled beneath her, and she collapsed to the ground in exhaustion beside Y/n's limp body. Mike rushed to her side, steadying her arms and looking on with pooling eyes at his waking friend.

Y/n lays in Will's arms on the grounds of the cracked and broken sauna floor, her bloodshot eyes popping out of her skull as she coughs and chokes on what air she hopes to regain. Strenuous marks circle her throat from where she was previously held captive, and specks of blood drip from the back of her skull onto Will's leg. The others begin to crowd around in worry and fear as they jump in to help.

Will cradles her head softly, brushing away the stray hairs from her face as he weeps, desperately wanting to ease her pain though he does not know how. He's doomed to watch her lay suffering, her wails of anguish are strained and hoarse from the Mind Flayer's grip. A similar, deathly grip squeezed the hearts of the rest as they watched her suffer.

With flooded eyes, Will leans down and plants a shaky kiss on her forehead before resting his own against it. Her left hand comes to wrap around his wrist as it still holds her head in place. He breaks away to examine her once more, the puffiness of her swollen cheeks had already subsided a great deal but it was clear she was still in pain. Trembling, she looks out to each of them, her eyes watery and thankful. Reaching out her other hand, it finds El's, and they both let out a sob knowing the other was okay. Each sniffle tore right through his heart, and as if asking for help he looks up at his friends hoping for answers.

But they all stare at her, glassy-eyed and frozen, and that's when it dawns on them; Billy. Each of them, Will included, look frantically to the broken brick wall through which he was thrown. Everyone apart from the young couple on the ground rushed to see the young man, singed and bleeding making his escape into the trees far across the field and into the squalling storm.

Will's gaze is torn back to his lap when he feels Y/n begin to rise. Eagerly, and without hesitation, he helps Y/n to sit up. Tracks of thick tears stream down her face, cleaning her bloodied and dirtied cheeks in their path. His hand finds a home on her back, reflexively trying to run soothing circles into her muscles but she immediately whimpers, flinching. Her back had taken most of the damage, which he realized was preferable to her skull. But still, a plethora of apologies spilled from his lips, his eyes are filled with nothing but worry and heartbreak.

Y/n takes a moment to steady herself, the blood rushing to her head combined with the powerful forces inside her still hard at work as they desperately try to repair the gash in her head. She tries to smile, silently telling him it was okay, but it hardly showed. But Will still knew.

As she attempts to stand - one arm hooked around his shoulder, the other over Lucas's - the energy drains from her quicker than anything she had felt in a long while and when she blinks she realises she is resting her head on Will's shoulder.

Her sobs are weak and drawn out in her taxed state, yet they still demand to be heard even buried in Will's chest. The pain of seeing her this way makes him feel as if he has been torn in two, and yet worse, he knows it's dwarfed in comparison to whatever she is enduring. All he can do is hold her close, and hold her gently, assuring her safety.

Will wishes more than anything to take her pain away, and how cruel of fate to deprive him of this.

With the aid of Will and Lucas, Y/n hobbled to the gaping hole in the brick where Billy had disappeared. Her shoulders rose and fell as she attempted even know to even her breathing, her haunted glare stretching out across the dark and stormy night where the Mind Flayer had made his second escape.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"The girl, was it her?"

Heather's voice cuts through the silence is Brimborne as she sat opposite Billy.

"Yes," he answers with a hiss, eyes darting to the handprints seared into his skin. "Yes it was her, and she knows now. She knows about me. They both do."

Heather's hand and the cool wet handkerchief it holds reaches for his blistered wrists but finds her own entrapped in an instant but neither of them blink.

"She could have killed me." He asserted.

"Yes," she says. "But not us."

She looks out onto the darkened sea of the warehouse, where the very rot of the Mind Flayer had seeded and spread and multiplied. And the numbers were still climbing. Waiting, out in the shadows for their noble sacrifice to the monster of flesh bone known as the Mind Flayer.

Or more specifically, the Mind Flayer's army.

"Not us."

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malereader-inserts · 4 years

Text

Count On Us

Fandom: Twilight Pairing: Cullen family & Son!Brother!Reader Summary: When you’re on your knees, your family is quick to pull you up - because you shouldn’t face this all by yourself Word Count: 1591 Request: Could you make a cullen family x male reader where the reader goes through a tough break up so everyone decides to devise different plans on how to make him feel better

“Did you hear?” The Cullens perked their ears up, always loving drama with these mundane humans, they hadn’t been in school for a week since there was sun out but you, their human brother had been in all week.

They hadn’t seen anything abnormal from you, you didn’t seem like you were struggling about your homework or any of your subjects, nor have the teachers been giving you stick about anything so your siblings thought nothing of it.

“Oh yeah, (Y/n) Cullen?” Another giggled, trying to keep their conversation to themselves, “Heard he got into a messy breakup, they apparently-”

Just as they were about to reveal to the Cullens why your significant other, rather your ex now, had broken up with you. You had interrupted them as you slam the door shut before glaring at the group of girls huddling.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than talk about my love life?” You seethed, Jasper had to hold your shoulders from attacking because you were radiating such anger that Jasper was concerned because he didn’t know you could produce so much feeling.

“Sorry-” They muttered as they walked into the school as you rolled your eyes.

Snatching yourself away from Jasper’s hold and stomping away to your locker. Rosalie was taken aback with your attitude on how you were muttering incoherent words that your siblings cannot pick any words.

“I didn’t see anything,” Alice shrugged her shoulders as they looked over to Edward, who also looked confused before shrugging his shoulders as well.

“I can’t read anything from him.” Bella came up to them, smiling at Edward, but wasn’t expecting a question from him, “Bella, what happened to (Y/N)?”

“Oh?” Bella started, tensing up awkwardly, “He got broken up, public too, Monday’s lunch at the cafeteria. They went hysterical, they were shouting before announcing they were cheating on him.”

“That little bitch-!” Rosalie seethed, to think she had liked your ex a lot too.

“Not to mention, when he got explosive - which I don’t blame him, she threw her smoothie which she had made just for that lunch,” Bella explained, scratching the back of her neck, “I would have thought he would told you but I guess he’s taking it harder than he gives out. Then again, Mike did hear him cry a bit in the boys’ toilet.”

“Well, he’s good at hiding his thoughts and feelings,” Emmett commented as Jasper and Edward was visibly uncomfortable as they weren’t able to detect you.

They waited till lunch to come around, despite being in some of their lessons, you made no effort to talk to your siblings. Jasper could feel sadness and anger radiate from you, but it was the sadness that threw him off. He would expected you to feel anger, betrayal and perhaps even annoyance but sadness was something he did not expect. Edward was unsettled that your mind was just blank, you weren’t thinking at all, not even in your maths lesson shared with him.

As lunch came around, you hadn’t appeared. Bella was with the Cullens as Erik ran up to their table.

“Hey did you hear?” Eric asked, momentarily forgetting the Cullens were there as he talked to Bella, “Apparently, (Y/n) is getting done for slashing his ex’s car’s tires.”

“But, he’s a sweetheart, he wouldn’t ever do that, not even if he’s pissed off,” Bella says, confused.

“Yeah, I know! His ex is gone psycho against him and he’s done nothing wrong - I heard he walked back home. He packed his bag half way through third period and left, missing forth and obviously lunch.”

And so, the group of siblings decided enough was enough, they couldn’t let you suffer alone.

When the group of vampires arrive home, the house was still. Cold and very much not lived in. Nothing of the sort had seemed to be moved, as if you hadn’t returned home. The only indication of you being home that put them at ease was your shoes in the garage and your poorly put away jacket lying about before entering the house.

Rosalie went to find you, after all, she knows what it’s like to be cheated and frankly despite her horrid attitude towards Bella, she has a high emotional intelligence without powers. So, she had found you in your room, and you were under your duvet. She could hear your heart beat, she had let her shoulders relax as she sees you shifted underneath. She sits on the bed and pats you.

“(Y/n)?” She asked softly, whilst she was getting you up, Alice had informed Esme - who had returned home at the same time - of your situation, “Esme is cooking you dinner, wanna peak out for me?”

She knew you hated being treated a child, so it was the quickest way for you to emerge. You pulled the duvet down, eyes very much red and you had a little sniffle but there was a glare within your stare.

“Not a child,” You muttered.

“You alright?” Rosalie asked, placing a comforting hand upon your shoulder, “We heard about your ex and-”

“It’s stupid,” You interrupted, waving her off.

She kept a firm hand on you, “You know you’re not alone, and it’s your first relationship. I don’t expect you, I mean, we don’t expect you to be fine. It’s okay to be upset.”

You sighed, sitting up and looked at her with teary eyes, “I guess,” there was a pause to your words as you tried to not break down and cry, “Why didn’t they want me? Was I not good enough for them?”

“Aw, sweetie...” Rose knew what you felt, the cheating makes you think you were never good enough. She held you tight in her embrace as you let out small sobs.

You’ll never trust again, building trust would be hard for you and it was because of your ex. You didn’t deserve this, the family says, you don’t deserve to feel like you weren’t worthy of love and question what had gone wrong during your relationship. It was unfair and unjust.

“You’re always good enough, don’t let them dictate what you feel and what you are. You are always worthy of love, you had never done anything wrong. You were the good one,” Rosalie firmly spoke, as you look in her eyes, “Okay? You hear me?”

You nodded meekly as Esme calls you down. Rose gives you a kiss upon your temple as you rubbed your tears away before darting down the stairs to the kitchen. Esme makes your favourite food for tea, you smiled weakly as she ruffles your hair. Kisses your head, and gives you a tight hug. She doesn’t need to mention the elephant in the room, you were thankful.

Your mother talks, how brilliant her son is. How you’ve done so well in classes and your extra curriculum. She does anything to talk about you, positively, stop you from thinking you’re anything but that. As you finished your food, she sweeps away your plate and shoves you dessert, giving you eyes saying just this once.

As you eat your dessert happily, Emmett pulls you outside to play some baseball. Your brothers, Jasper and Edward laugh as you protest. But, the three of them only do it just to keep your mind busy, away from your heartbreak.

They had heard you cry, utter the words of doubt and refuse to let you feel that again. Jasper tries to teach you how he does the bat trick, but you had failed miserably and hit yourself more than you liked.

Emmett was pitching, and yet, every time you manage to hit the ball. It went either went straight to Emmett’s mitt or to Edward, who reassures you with more practice you’ll get better. The baseball game only stopped them Emmett accidentally let go off the ball too early, resulting to Alice saving you from getting smacked in the head with a concussion as she catches the ball, inches away from your shocked face.

“I think that’ll be enough, thank you!” Alice calls, throwing the ball to Emmett and pulling you indoors.

You wave away from your brothers, who snicker at Emmett. Alice brings you into your room, calling for an intervention for your wardrobe to be cleaned out. Despite your complains you help her, you throw away the clothes you didn’t want nor fitted in anymore - Alice threw some that wasn’t in your fashion sense either. You spent an hour or so, cleaning and dancing about in your room.

Carlisle came home, Esme welcomed him and told him about your unfortunate breakup. Carlisle’s heart broke but was fixed when Esme had filled in the fact that your siblings were there to pick you up. So, when you were released from Alice’s grasp, you hid in your father’s office.

He laughs as you tuck yourself in the corner, a book in your lap, just wanting a few minutes to breath ad some peace and quiet.

“How are you feeling?” Carlisle asked, ruffling your hair and kissing your head, “Feeling better I presume?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, smiling brightly up at your dad, “I really do.”

“Well, you can always count on us, you don’t have to be alone.” Carlisle reminded you as you nodded, the sincerity written all over your face.

“I know, and I’m thankful for that.”

You love your siblings, and you never have to doubt their love for you. Because when you’re at your weakest, they’re always there to pick you right back up.

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strangestdrabbles · 4 years

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A Soft Goodbye

A/N: I’M BACK AND BETTER THAN EVER,, i’ve been working so much and sorting my life out but i’m ready to write again and be creative

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Fem!Reader

Warnings: blood mentions, violence, death, swearing

The house on Neibolt Street seemed to be watching them as the losers’ stood out the front, Bill’s voice echoing in the night air. Y/N couldn’t help allowing her eyes to wander over the dilapidated windows as her heart sped up, the feeling of fear slowly overwhelming her senses.

It had been exhausting coming back to Derry after 27 years, a successful medical career under her belt while Richie perfected his stand up routine; the pair blissfully happy even if there was something of an ache in the back of their minds. The town seemed to close in the moment the couple passed the ‘Welcome to Derry, Maine’ sign, a suffocating anxiety slowly crawling and drowning their nerves. For Richie it was a reminder once again of what he had hid as a child on the cusp of his teenage years, repressing under witty one liners and overexaggerated voices, a reminder of innocent love turned toxic by the environment and neglect that stayed with him as a voice in his head. If someone was to ask Y/N if she knew before that Richie had been harbouring romantic feelings for Eddie, it would have been a simple no but through the group -aside from Stan- reuniting due to Mike’s insistence it was undeniable. Even though she knew that Richie loved her, the way that he looked at the other man was too wholesome to forget; her heart close to bursting and her hands quick to begin shaking.

The house seemed to exhale and close in as the group of friends walked through the door, not being able to hear anything as their hearts seemed to pound in their ears; Richie’s hand quick to intertwine with Y/N’s before he rubbed his thumb against hers.

“Well I love what he’s done with the place.” Richie’s voice cut through the static that was buzzing in Y/N’s mind, a soft giggle leaving her lips involuntarily.

“Beep beep Richie.”

It seemed like muscle memory as the group walked through the house and came across the well, memories taking up the open spaces of their thirteen year old selves in the same position trying to find the bravery within themselves to continue forward. Y/N’s heart felt like it was lodged in her throat as fear overtook every one of her nerve endings, clutching her hands into fists to stop the shaking and ground herself as the house minutely closed in again before exhaling.

“Hey are you okay?”

Richie’s voice sounded kind and soft as Y/N’s mind took it in, turning her head to show him a kind smile and resting her head on his bicep.

“Yeah, just a little shaken.”

The glasses clad man couldn’t respond because he felt it too, a distant ache settled deep in his stomach that had memories full of bone crippling fear wink in his peripherals. Without thinking he looked around for Eddie, seeing the nervous man wringing his hands while a small pout kissed his lips and then his heart began to swell; a fondness unlike any other blooming within his chest like a garden in the early days of Spring.

After a painful stutter of her heart it was Y/N that decided to lead the charge and climb down the well first, trying to control her breathing and silence the on coming voices that sounded like the entity that had plagued her childhood; a headache sitting behind her left eye.

‘Maybe just maybe this time will be different,’ Y/N thought, not noticing a rogue tear kissing her left cheek before falling to the wayside down the dark well.

It seemed almost surreal as Y/N kept her eyes on Pennywise, the dead lights flashing tantalisingly in her peripherals but her mind urged her to ignore the ache of wanting to sneak a peek. The yelling was causing a headache to throb behind her left eye and she was doing everything to stay present even though fear clung to her peripherals, foggy like a noxious gas as the sharp laughter hazed distortedly in the environment.

The sound of shouting and yelling sounded warped as the dead lights continued to pound through the damp enclosure, Y/N not realising that her hand was no longer in Richie’s until she turned her head and saw him next to Eddie as the latter shook with fear, the glasses clad man’s hands grasping Eddie’s in an iron like grip until the obvious shivering stopped; yet even then didn’t stop holding his hand.

The sound slowly ebbed away as Y/N’s mind cleared and everything around her slowed nauseatingly, Richie and Eddie not letting each other go as the contact calmed them. It was at that moment that Y/N knew what she had to do, even though the revelation caused her heart to stutter painfully in her chest and her hands to shake; the metallic taste of blood not registering until everything came back to normal speed, a bitten tongue throbbing absentmindedly. Pennywise was large in an overwhelming sense but to Y/N he looked small, almost childish as her brain slowly and sweetly began to whisper in her ear; telling her that the way she was thinking was the only way to go.

It was a haze as Y/N continued to walk, not taking in the scene until the sound of the deadlights became almost deafening, causing her to look up and a shriek to catch in her throat at the sight of Richie; eyes white and body slack. Her feet had a mind of their own as they ran and found their way to where a few feet away Pennywise was holding Richie captive in the recesses of his mind. Eddie was frozen aside from his hands, which were shaking while his lips were quickly moving but no sound was heard by Y/N’s ears.

“It kills monsters if you believe it does!”

Y/N’s throat constricted as Eddie got Pennywise’s attention and threw the piece of fence, shouting in surprise which only Y/N could hear due to the proximity; her feet staying planted as Richie fell heavily to the stone floor. Eddie ran quickly over to the confused spectacle clad man, Y/N’s heart pounding and cheeks becoming wet without knowledge, exhaling silently as her feet began to work again. It was as if everything was working through a tunnel as sounds warped and the look of exhaled terror overtook Richie and one of shaky happiness overtaking Eddie’s; the only person keeping an eye on Pennywise was Y/N.

The clown’s mouth was forced open as the weapon stay wedged deep along with his eyes that were unfocused, rolling almost to the back of his head as pain rolled over the monster. Piercing screams echoed off the damp walls and a sick feeling crawled up Y/N’s throat slowly, making her feel nauseous. Pennywise could only be described as malicious as he stepped slowly forward towards the men, the sound muffled by the dead lights as they continued to revolve around each other and Y/N was close to being pulled in but then there was the distant sound of Eddie yelling happily.

“Richie I did it. I-”

It was a split second decision on Y/N’s part to run and push Eddie out of the way, not understanding the bitter feeling rising in her chest but acting on it anyway and it was thanks to the split second decision that Eddie was able to fall into Richie’s arms, alive yet shaken but the same couldn’t be said for Y/N.

Pennywise’s claw spiked through Y/N as if in slow motion, the pain not fully being registered as everything around Y/N had slowed down to a hollow grey throb, the colour and pain coming back to piercing clarity only after a scream was heard. Y/N’s mouth tasted metallic and heavy with blood, spitting it out the best that she could without rattling her chest. Her ears didn’t register anything after the brief scream as they rang harshly and the pain was a faraway thought, the metallic taste was overwhelming and before she could stop her body a stutter staggered through her chest; the pain hitting her harder than she could predict and then a cry whimpered through her lips.

Her eyes watered slowly as her nose ran, trying to hold onto anything tangible that would take her mind away from the pain and the movement that Pennywise was forcing her body through; not noticing that Eddie and Richie weren’t paying attention and neither were the rest of the Loser’s Club. The feeling of Y/N’s body hitting the rock hard and then rolling down wasn’t felt until she tried to sit up and get comfortable to actually assess the damage.

“Sh-Shit,” Y/N whispered, seeing the wound in her abdomen and trying to laugh but feeling a sob swell in her throat, “this isn’t too great.”

Another spit of blood left Y/N’s lips and landed on the sand next to her legs, her chest rattling while an overwhelming metallic smell surrounded her and consciousness slowly slipped away from her. It was silent as her brain began to come to terms with the fact that it was time to go, that it was time to let go of the fear and feel content.

“Y/N, Y/N oh my god.” Bev’s voice sounded far away and almost hysterical but Y/N’s ears weren't properly registering what was going on.

“I-It’s okay,” Y/N whispered and smiled, not caring that blood stained her teeth and hands along with her shirt, “I’m just g-glad that E-E-Eddie’s ok-ay.”

Talking hurt and caused aching shakes to rattle Y/N’s chest, her hands shaking slightly but too weak to wipe away the blood slowly leaking from her mouth and nose.

“N-No Y/N come on.”

She hadn’t heard the other’s come over but through the glaze of tears over her eyes she made eye contact with Richie, disheveled and dirty but still adorable in a way that took Y/N’s breath away and allow her brain to go calm.

“Look at us, all back together again.” Y/N whispered, feeling the life drain from her slowly, inch by inch.

“Y-Yeah we are.” Bill spoke, trying to not allow the fact that a sob was forming in his throat to show.

“Go.” Y/N said, sliding more down the rock before finding a more comfortable position.

“Not without you.”

“You have to.”

There was bickering and as Y/N slowly drifted away, her body hiccuping back to consciousness every now and again in the prolonged seconds all she could think was that she was happy.

So incredibly happy.

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rglozwriter · 4 years

Text

FNAF Swap AU: Mari!Mike Origins

Inspired by @official-michael-afton and @jaes-fnaftrash‘s fnaf roleswap au’s, I decided to write what was supposed to be a short story of about 1,000 words. Guys, I finished it at over 5,000 words! I haven’t written a story that long in forever. :)

So here’s a story about the origins of Marionette!Michael Afton, and Swap!Henry and Swap!William. Just a heads up because I know some people don’t like stories like this, Henry is the murderous asshole in this story, William is not. I know not everyone likes that, so if you don’t than please don’t read this story.

Henry throws his wrench on the worktable, his frustrations reaching a near breaking point. His newest creation is powered down on the table, the thrown wrench jostling it for only a second.

The creation, or what he calls the Marionette, can almost be confused for a human. Of course, most people would be put off by the purple skin tone and face paint, but Henry hopes that the Marionette’s kind and calm persona that he installs would squash people’s unease of it. Michael and Charlie think it’s good, and even William has already talked about bringing it into the diner.

But it’s not perfect. His creation is still missing something to make it truly human. It infuriates him to no end. It’s like the solution is right there but he cannot obtain it. He stalks out of the room, not wanting to even spare his failure another glance.

His home is empty once he comes up from the basement, and it takes him a few seconds to remember that Charlie went over to the Afton’s house down the street after finishing her homework. She has been spending less and less time at home after Sammy’s “mysterious accident” with one of William's inventions in the basement. Not that he can blame her.

He checks the time, six in the evening, at this time they should be done making dinner. He sighs and goes to grab his boots beside the front door. Hopefully, they won’t mind one more mouth to feed.

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

The rain comes down hard onto his car as Henry drives through the town. It’s a Saturday so of course, Charlie wanted to go back to the Aftons to play with Elizabeth. After driving her to the house due to the rain, he didn’t feel like driving back home.

The talk with William last night is still running through his head. Remnant, the idea they discovered in college. The thing that gives humans life, almost like a soul. He feels like crying, the one thing to make his creations perfect and he cannot obtain it.

The rain starts to come down harder, and Henry curses. It’s already almost pitch black outside thanks to the storm, and it’s only three in the afternoon. It’s when he drives past Fredbear Diner that he spots a peculiar sight from the lights given by the windows.

Standing outside in the alleyway is a boy wearing a purple shirt and a green bracelet. Michael Afton, William’s eldest son. Henry’s not sure how long he’s been in the pouring rain, but he’s already soaked. He’s pounding on the window of the diner, and Henry cannot tell if it’s tears or rain pouring down his face.

He pulls into the parking lot and just watches Michael. The boy screams out for someone to open the door and let him in. Probably a cruel prank then. That’s when the thought enters his head.

“You cannot create remnant, so why not take it?” It says.

And the thing is, he considers it. Most people would immediately drive away, or at the very least throw that thought away. But Henry, he’s desperate for his dream of a perfect creation, so he decides to entertain it.

Mike has the kind of personality that he wants the Marionette to have. He’s smart, bright, and thanks to the discipline from William he can be polite when he needs to be. Besides, William has two other children, so surely he wouldn’t mind losing one?

His mind made up, Henry leaves his car. Careful to not alert the boy, who’s now huddled under the window, his knees pulled to his chest as he sobs in his arms. Henry knows he doesn’t have much time before someone comes along so he snatches the boy’s arm and pulls Mike up to his feet before starting to drag him to his car.

It takes Mike a few seconds to process what is happening, but once he does he tries to pull out of the grip around his arm, even trying to use his other hand to pry out. All it does is cause Henry to grasp tighter.

They reach the car, and Henry flings open the passenger door before throwing Michael on the seat. He frantically looks around the interior, a look of recognition crosses his features. He’s been in his car before of course. Michael finally gets a good look at Henry’s face.

“Uncle Henry…?” He says, the confusion clear in his voice. Henry just closes the door before getting into the driver's seat.

“Put on your seatbelt.”

Mike listens…

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

Henry stares down at the dying boy. The blood pools from under him as the stab wound on his chest continues to gush the liquid all over the purple shirt, turning it into a sick sort of tie-dye. Michael’s eyes stare up at the ceiling in shock as blood continues to pool in his mouth, choking him.

It was easy to convince Mike to come to his basement, with the promise of wanting to cheer the boy up by showing him the Marionette and then needing his help with his animatronic. Michael, who loves to watch and help his father with his work on the animatronics, was a little excited if still a little nervous. So with one hand on his back, Henry led the young boy down the steps to the basement.

The thing about his basement is just how cut off from the rest of the world it can feel. There’s no other entrance to get into the basement and couple that with no windows and only one light source and it can create quite a chilling atmosphere. So chilling that Elizabeth and Chris refuse to step foot in the basement, and even Charlie refuses to come down without Henry.

Michael’s choking and gasping is the only sound in the basement. Well, that and the Marionette’s mechanical clicking and whirring. He turned the animatronic on to keep Michael distracted, and it worked. The poor boy didn’t see the knife coming.

Maybe that’s why when the phone rings in the kitchen, Henry jumps. He only spares the other two occupants of the room a glance before rushing up the stairs to answer the phone.

(If he stayed for a bit longer, Henry would’ve noticed the way the Marionette’s gaze turned to Michael, a look of distress and pity on its face.)

Henry’s not surprised to find the call to be from a frantic William, who went to go pick his son up from their diner, only to find his eldest gone.

“Will you help me look for him?” He says. Henry agrees, grabbing his coat from the rack beside the front door and hopping into his car to head down to the Afton house.

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

The Marionette gets down from the table, it’s eyes never leaving the child. Marionette was programmed with code to help calm distressed children from injuries like cuts and bruises. But even with its limited knowledge of human injuries, it could tell that this was no simple cut.

This child, a small boy of an apparent ten years of age, is too injured for a few soothing words to fix. He needs a doctor, but there’s no employees or the owners for the animatronic to get. So the Marionette can only do one thing it’s programmed to do, it’ll comfort the boy.

It walks up to the child, stepping into the puddle of blood. The boy is no longer making any noise, yet it can tell from the small twitches that he’s still alive. It reaches down to him and slowly pulls him into its arms. Mindful of the painful groans and whimpers coming from him.

It holds the child closely, combing his hair and whispering soothing words that his code can give. It feels the boy slacken in its embrace, the painful whimpers are no longer being uttered. A small smile graces the Marionette’s face. It’s a relief to have calmed the child down enough to have him sleeping.

The Marionette was not programmed with the knowledge of death.

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

After searching around for Michael, Officer Clay was contacted. A search team was sent to check the areas around Fredbear Diner, and even the woods behind the diner. Five o’clock arrives and William’s son is still not found.

By the time Henry gets back to his home, William was barely just holding it together. Henry could understand, he felt the same way with Sammy and Mary’s deaths.

He walks down to the basement but pauses on the steps. There’s a large blood puddle on the floor where Michael’s body is supposed to be, but his body isn’t there. Not only that, but bloody shoe prints are leading away from the puddle.

Henry makes it the rest of the down to find a peculiar but welcome sight. There sits his animatronic, his creation, holding Michael’s dead body in its arms. The Marionette is turned off, hopefully from taking Michael’s remnant and not from overheating.

It took a few times to tug the body from the Marionette’s grasp, even powered off the creation is strong. He curses when he spots some blood staining the animatronic’s outfit. That’s going to be a pain to remove.

But that’s a task for later. Right now, he needs to figure out where to hide Michael’s body. Henry considers burying his body. But if the police find it they’ll trace the crime back to him. A glance around the basement gives him an idea, the freezer. He can just hide the body until the whole search calms down.

Wrapping Michael’s body up in a blue tarp, He dumps the body in the freezer, the crunch of the body against the frost at the inner walls. He stares down at the body, feeling a twinge of regret for the boy he not so long ago considered a nephew.

He closes the freezer.

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

It took a month for Henry to finally get rid of Michael’s body. William has been wringing himself ragged trying to find his son, and the kids have been more subdued in their energy. Charlie goes over to the Afton house every day, to try and cheer up her friends.

The police were the worst though. They hung around almost every corner and shadow, making it impossible for Henry to just dump the body in some dumpster and go.

He understands why they are working so hard, Michael might be the first case of a kidnapped child from Hurricane that turns out to be serious and not just a kid wandering off. Coupled that with the fact that Officer Clay is a close family friend to the Emilys and Aftons, so he’s probably taking this as badly as William is. Henry understands it, that doesn’t mean he has to like it.

And if that wasn’t enough, turns out he killed Michael for nothing. Michael didn’t possess the Marionette. Henry cleaned the blood off the animatronic and gave a week of waiting for any sign of improvement before setting the attraction open in the diner.

Much to Henry’s disappointment not only did the Marionette not improve in acting human, it got worse. Now, it would glitch and stutter through the coded phrases at random intervals. And according to some of the patrons, they would hear the animatronic say a strange phrase that Henry knows he didn’t program into the Marionette.

“Save Him.”

(You can’t.)

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

The windshield wipers scrape against the window at the fastest setting Henry’s car has. It’s nine at night, and the cops have finally calmed down enough that Henry feels it’s safe enough to get rid of Michael’s body.

Thinking about the said body, his eyes travel to the rearview mirror, to the thing lying across the backseat. It was a pain digging Michael out of the freezer, the tarp refused to separate from the freezer’s insides, the frost clung to the tarp like weld bond adhesive, Henry gave up and just grabbed Michael and left.

Michael’s body shakes with the car, and once again Henry wishes he fought the tarp just so he doesn’t have to see the body every time he checks behind him. At least Michael’s head is turned towards the backseat, Henry’s not sure he could drive with the feeling of the cold dead gaze on him.

Right now, he’s driving to the diner. The alleyway has the dumpster that he needs to hide the body. Hopefully, the dumpster isn’t too full, or else he has no other thing to do but dig through the trash, and the last thing Henry wants to do is dig through trash in a severe rainstorm.

He drives into the alleyway, careful to keep his car lights low. It didn’t take him long to park the car and drag Michael out from the backseats. Now with the body in his arms, he makes his way to the dumpster, only to have his hopes dashed.

Not only is the dumpster full, but it’s also absolutely overflowing! With trash bags even in a pile around the dumpster. There’s no way Henry can hide his body in there. By the time he digs out a spot for Michael’s body, he will almost certainly get caught.

But Henry can’t go back to his home with the body! Sooner or later, the body would be found if he keeps it at home. And Henry’s not sure what he’s most afraid of if that happens, the police or William.

A light comes on inside the diner, and Henry, panicking, dumps Michael next to the brick wall that makes up the diner. He hurries to his car and speeds out of the alleyway.

An employee named Caleb is the one who discovers the young boy’s body. When questioned by the police if he saw who dumped the poor child’s body in the alleyway, all he could say was he saw a red car speeding off out of the alleyway, he was more concerned about the corpse he found. Caleb would quit his job three days later, citing trauma.

A father is contacted that night to receive the terrible news that he suspected, but hoped to not have.

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

William stares down at the freshly dug grave, the setting sun painting it a warm glow. It’s been a few days since the funeral, and he finds himself in a worse daze than when Michael went missing. At least when his son was missing there was still hope that he would be found alive.

But no, that was never going to happen. He overheard the cops gossiping, he knows how whoever killed his son kept his body in a freezer. He clenches his shaking hands as he’s reminded of it, how some bastard out there was probably looking him in the face and giving him some false sympathies like a snake in the grass.

William eyes the tombstone in front of him once more.

Michael James Afton

His eyes travel to the tombstone next to his son, his wife’s name on it. He finds himself thankful that he was able to at the very least bury them together.

He brushes his fingers over his wife’s grave, tracing her name. It takes William a couple of seconds to realize that he’s fallen to his knees in the dirt, but at the moment he doesn’t care.

A feeling started to blossom inside his chest, replacing the cold emptiness that was there before. It gnaws at him, intensifying the anger that already resided in him. William grabs fistfuls of his jeans, scrunching them up and grits his teeth as he identifies the emotion spilling over into his heart.

Intense revenge.

He gets back up onto his feet, ignoring the dirt on his jeans. He spares Michael’s grave one more glance before starting the trek back to his car. He has a lot of planning to do.

Making sure his son’s murderer gets dragged off to hell will be time-consuming.

#writing #my writing #fnaf #fnaf swap #fnaf role reversal #fnaf swap au #fnaf role reversal au #fnaf reversal au #fnaf fic

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fangirl-imagines · 5 years

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Too Dark//2019!Richie Tozier x Kaspbrak!Reader

A/N: At the time of writing and posting this I have not seen IT Chapter 2 yet. This is based on the book and the 1990s minseries. But plot spoilers if you don’t know what happens in the second half of IT I guess? This can also be read as Reddie or as Richie Tozier/Reader

Prompt: No one loved Eddie Kaspbrak more than you and Richie Tozier did. After you climb out of the sewers you need each other more than ever.

It was too dark in the sewers under Derry. It was too dark and the smells too overpowering, the sounds of Richie pleading with Eddie were too loud. It was all too much. It was all too overwhelming, and you just wanted to leave. You just wanted to be home, alone and unhappy maybe, but safe. Content in knowing your brother was also safe in his own home in New York. Instead you dropped to your knees in the sewers beside Richie who was clutching your brother tight in his arms and reached for them desperately.

“Eds? Eds, come on, we need to get out of here.” You tried to reason, clutching at Eddie’s bloody shirt with your hands and trying to pull him up and away from Richie so that you could get him out of this horrible place. “Eddie come on! Richie, stop crying, he’s okay! You urged, pulling harder on Eddie’s shirt, not allowing yourself to fully recognize that Eddie neither made any sounds or turned to look at you despite how you tugged at him.

Richie shook his head, clutching Eddie tighter and sobbed openly into the smaller man’s shoulder.

“He’s okay!” You all but yelled, your voice thick with tears that freely flowed down your face, cutting a track in the grime that covered your cheeks.

Tossing yourself forward, you wrapped both of your arms around Richie and Eddie, burying your own face in Eddie’s back and were content to stay there, clutching the two most important people in your life until the end of time. Which it most certainly felt like was upon you in that moment. Richie moved one of his hands to search blindly for you. It found your hair and buried itself there, clutching at you with one hand and holding Eddie with the other. Neither of you looked up when the others started shouting your names.

“Guys w-,w-, we got to g-.g-,go!” Bill yelled, pulling on Richie’s shoulder. Richie shrugged him off.

“Ri-,Ri-,Ric-,Richie come on! It’s co-,co-,com-,coming back!’

“Y/N, we have to leave!” Beverly yelled grabbing your arms and trying to pry you off of Eddie’s body but you refused to let go.

Your baby brother. You couldn’t leave him. You thought that if you ignored them long enough that they might leave you there to die in peace. But Bill kept pulling at Richie, yelling in his ear.

“We-,We’re al-.all go-,going to di-,di-,di-,die if we don’t get-,get out of here Ri-,Ri-,Ric-,Richie! Y/N ‘ll di-, die t-,t-,t-,too! Ed-,Edd-,Eddie wouldn’t wa-,wan-,want that. Mo-,Mov-,Move Ric-,Richie!”

Richie looked up at Bill, still teary eyed and exhausted but nodded blankly. Turning back to Eddie he looked down into the face of his best friend and took it in for the last time, committing it to memory even though he already knew he could never forget it. He closed his eyes and pursed his lips when he opened them he reluctantly let go of Eddie long enough to shrug off his jacket and wrapped it gently around Eddie’s shoulders and tucked him in tight to it. He pressed his lips to Eddie’s cheek in a messy kiss before forcing himself to climb to his feet. You were still holding Eddie’s waist tightly even with Richie’s jacket wrapped in between the two of you. Richie didn’t say anything to you, just put his arms around your waist and used his leverage to pull you up off the ground.

“No!”

You screamed like you were being murdered as Eddie’s body slipped away from you onto the floor of the sewer. You kicked your legs and pulled and pried at Richie’s hands but he was too strong. Richie said nothing as you screamed but he didn’t stop crying either. Ben grabbed your feet to keep you from hurting Richie and the fight seemed to leave you all together. You didn’t care what happened to you anymore, you just felt numb as everyone ran outside, Ben and Richie carrying you down the stairs.

The warm sunlight hit your face but it felt more like a cruel taunt than a comforting warmth that the sun usually gave you. Your brother was dead, his body in the sewers that had always terrified him so much but the sun still shinned and the world kept turning. You felt sick to your stomach. Gently, Ben let go of your feet and backed away to catch his breath after running for his life and carrying you with him. You looked up at Richie, his eyes were wet, his glasses crooked, and his hair a mess.

“Why did you do that?” You whispered harshly, “Why did you make me leave him down there?!” You shook your head, you grasped his shirt in your hands and tried to shake him but he didn’t move. “Why did you make me leave him?!” You yelled in his face with a sob.

Richie just shook his head, pleading with you silently.

“Y/N-“ Mike started but you ignored him.

“It’s too dark! It’s too dark down there! Eddie, you know he hated the dark. I use to tell him there was nothing to be afraid of. But now…You should have left me down there with him.”

There was a loud cracking sound and you all looked up to see the Nesbitt house slowly begin to crack and teeter like it was about to fall in on itself. You let go of Richie’s shirt to cover the gasp coming out of your mouth.

Eddie.

Beside you, you saw a flash of yellow and black plaid as Richie rushed forward back towards the collapsing house. Mike and Ben grabbed him first though, holding him back as he begged to be let go. You weren’t the only one who wanted to stay in that house with Eddie.

Richie was screaming and reaching out as if he could still grab Eddie and pull him back out. You cried harder at the sight, feeling your knees start to give. Beverly grabbed you before you could fall though, wrapping her arms around you and hugging you close. You heard one final crash and didn’t have to look up from Bev’s shoulder to know the house was gone. Even when Beverly whispered, “Don’t look.” In your ear. Slowly the sounds of Richie’s cried died down and there was an ominous silence as everyone stood around the remains of the Nesbitt house.

You couldn’t help yourself. You looked up and turned your head to take in the remains. You were glad that house was gone. You wanted to burn the remains and dance in the ashes. You wanted to lie down in them an die. You were painfully aware that now there was no going back for Eddie. Your brother really was gone. You had left him in a dark, germ filled, disgusting sewer alone, surrounded by the things he had feared and hated so much.

You pulled your eyes from the house and over to Richie, still standing by Mike and Ben, staring at the house, taking in what had happened. Richie turned as if he had felt your eyes boring into him. Answering some unspoken question, you shook your head and he pushed past Ben and strode to your side. You opened your arms and let yourself wrap them around Richie. He gripped you tight, bending down to bury his face in your hair. He cried into your hair, holding you flat against him in a crushing grip but you only gripped him tighter. No one said anything.

The pain the others felt was real but your and Richie’s was something else entirely. You glanced up at the sky where the sun shone down on you all. Pennywise was dead. It was finally over. You looked around at the rest of the losers club to see everyone was glancing at each other thinking the same thing. It was over. You hadn’t won but you had ended it. Maybe you were too selfish because you weren’t sure it was worth it. You turned your head back into Richie’s shirt and closed your eyes.

It was over.

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armandism · 5 years

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i almost lost you -

„Richie, we have to leave,“ Mike urged, his voice calm and steady, but if any of the others had listened closely, they would have heard the pain and the panic. None of them did. He was holding onto Richies shoulder, gripping his shirt tightly, trying in vain to make him let go of Eddie.

„We can still help him. Please,“ Richie begged, looking at Mike without really looking at him. Then he turned back to look at Eddie, grasping his face between his hands, his fingers sliding over his still warm cheeks, being careful of his patch and the wound it protected, shaking him for a reaction that would not come.

„Honey,“ Beverly began, her voice quivering „Honey, he‘s dead.“ She hesitated, let Richie have a fraction of a moment to let it settle in. „We have to go.“

Richies vision was getting almost as blurry as it was without his glasses „I‘m not leaving without him.“

„Rich-,“

„No. I‘m not leaving without him.“

Ben and Mike both rushed forward to try and grab his shoulders again in a quiet panic as the walls around them started to rumble and shake. „Let me go!“ Richie struggled, flinging his arms around to release their grip on him, and fell back to Eddies side. His Eddie. His best friend.

Pressing his forehead against Eddies, he shut his eyes as tightly as he could, making the tears stop, if just for a second, and took a few heavy breaths. He then shoved his right arm underneath Eddies limp knees and wrapped the other one around his shoulder, lifting him up steadily, carefully.

Ben jumped forward and slung Eddies arm around Richies neck to make carrying him easier. Richie gave him an attempt at a smile in return although it looked painful.

As rocks and boulders started falling at a more rapid pace and with more vigor, the losers ran. Bill, their Big Bill, lead the group, slackening his pace every few minutes to take a look behind himself to check if everyone was still there. He helped Richie carry Eddie when their path lead back up the stone tunnel and out of the luke. He guided them until they were back in the Neibolt house and until they were out of it again.

Mike ran out of the house last, his foot just barely off of the creaking wood as it started to fall in on itself. „Call an ambulance!“ Richie yelled with desperation as soon as he and Eddie were out of harms way. Out on the street he gently lowered Eddies body onto the ground. And even though they all knew it was for nothing, Beverly hastily pulled out her phone to make a call.

Richie couldn‘t make out all of Beverlys words and if he was being honest, he didn‘t really want to either. He would hear her say „he‘s been impaled“ and „he‘s not breathing“ and Richie felt like the world stopped spinning. In a way, his world did.

The wait for the ambulance felt like it stretched for over an hour. It was 10 minutes long.

The first responders quickly and carefully put Eddie onto a stretcher and loaded him into the ambulance and began to try and reanimate him with a defibrillator.

All of the losers were standing outside of the ambulance and watching and hoping, and every time the shockwave would go through Eddies chest, they would flinch and more tears would roll down their cheeks. And, although the paramedics did not seem to be hopeful, they tried. They really tried.

It took five shocks for Eddie to respond.

„We have him back,“ one of the paramedics said in a quiet voice full of disbelief and euphoria. Beverly fell into Bens arms and they held each other and cried and cried. Mike gripped Bills shoulder and rubbed his eyes with the back of his palm whilst Bill dried his own tears and stroked Mikes hand. Richie broke down. He fell on his knees and cried harder than he‘d ever cried before and he thanked some unknown entity more than he‘d ever thought he would.

„Now that he is stable we will bring him to the hospital,“ one of the paramedics stated, still clearly in shock and keeping watch over Eddies condition.

Richie stammered, trying to speak despite his voice quivering like hell „can I- can I be with him?“

One of the paramedics gave him a glance „what relation do you have to the patient?“

„I‘m his- I‘m his partner,“ he managed. He didn‘t care that it wasn‘t the truth. He just wanted to be with Eddie.

„Alright, get in, we have to hurry,“ the paramedic replied quickly, ushering Richie to hop in and she showed him where he could stand so he wouldn‘t be in their way.

Richies head was spinning as the siren took over everything else he could hear. It droned on and on, consuming him, pulling him back to a different reality he didn‘t want to imagine. He thought of what would have happened had the ambulance not arrived this soon. He thought of what could still happen. His fear was growing and he was sweating. Trying to ground himself by looking at Eddies rising and lowering chest, reassuring himself that his Eddie was going to live. He‘ll be okay. He‘ll be alright.

Eddie is the bravest person he knows. And the toughest. Richie knows Eddie will make it through this even if it‘s only by Eddies will to annoy Richie some more.

The siren was still blaring and some metal utensils were clanking somewhere from the bumpy road they were on. Richie tried not to listen to those things anymore.

When they arrived at the hospital a few doctors opened the ambulance door and them and the paramedics rushed Eddie into the building with Richie running after them the entire way.

Until they told him he couldn‘t go any further. They brought Eddie to the ICU. Richie wasn‘t told what they would do with Eddie or when he would get to see him again.

With heavy feet Richie dragged himself to a row of chairs where he fell into one with a deep and shaky sigh. He began to cry again. From the fear, the stress, the grief, the worry, the relief. All of it came crushing down on him like the tide hitting the shore.

Once in a while a nurse would stop by and reassure him that everything will be fine, whoever he is waiting for will make it. That whoever he is waiting for will come back to him. It won‘t be over. The doctors give their best and they don‘t ever give up.

The nurses would bring him tissues. And sometimes they would sit with him for a while. Just sit with him. So he wouldn‘t feel alone.

Sometimes it even helped.

—

The rest of the losers arrived about two hours after Richie did. They rushed into the hospital and asked for Eddies information. The receptionist kindly told them that he was in the ICU and they they would have to wait for him. So they did.

Finding Richie wasn‘t a hard task; it never was. He was sitting all by himself on an uncomfortable looking chair, his hands in his jacket pockets, looking as lost as ever. Beverly was the first to approach him.

She sat down beside him and for a few seconds she just examined him, then she put her arm around him and rested her head against his shoulder. „He‘ll be okay,“ she said gently.

Without saying anything, Richie took off his glasses and covered his eyes with his fingers, and Beverly could feel the sobs shoot through him. The other losers began approaching as well, Bill sitting down next to Richie and Ben and Mike standing in front of them. Bill stroked Richies back whilst Beverly continued to just hold him, and after a while his sobs quietened down.

They all settled in on the row of seats eventually, all staring blankly at one spot, waiting for any news of Eddie.

„We defeated It,“ Ben then reminded, his voice astonished and he sounded as though he only just realized it. „Yeah, w-w-we did,“ Bill said, just as shocked as Ben. „It‘s finally over.“

They all shared a smile, a triumph just between them, except for Richie. He stared at the grey hospital floor like it was his religion, his mind still consumed by the What If‘s. He guessed they will never stop. At least not until he had Eddie smiling at him again.

They continued sitting there for four more hours. Once in a while one of them would go to the cafeteria and get them all a coffee, or something small to nibble on. Ben, who was sitting next to Beverly, was stroking her hand softly with his thumb, her head resting on his shoulders as she closed her eyes just for a quiet moment. A moment for them. He smiled to himself and thanked the nothingness for having given him this.

Another thirty minutes passed before a nurse came out of the door labeled ICU. Richies head shot up at the noise, and he sat up more upright, hoping for some news on Eddie.

But the nurse just gave him a small smile and walked past them, and Richie deflated again. Mike and Bill both noticed but decided against speaking up. What would they have said? What was there to say?

So they waited again. And another hour passed by until another nurse came out of that same door. But this time was different. She made a beeline for Richie as quickly as she could. Richie instantaneously looked up at her and when he noticed she was walking right towards them, he stood up and walked towards her, meeting her in the middle.

„The surgery went well and he is resting now. His condition is stable so you are allowed to visit him. But he is still asleep and we don‘t know when he will wake up.“

Richie began crying again, out of luck, out of happiness, out of relief. He could only nod in response. „Follow me,“ the nurse said quietly before she walked ahead of Richie, back towards the door leading to the ICU. She held the door open for him and when the other losers approached her after Richie went through, she explained everything to them exactly as she had explained to Richie with the exception that they would not be allowed inside. „Since Mr. Tozier is Mr. Kaspbraks partner he is allowed to visit but since you aren‘t in close relation to the patient you will have to wait outside. I‘m sorry.“

Beverly replied with a short „Okay, yeah, thank you,“ before she turned back around to sit down again, the others following her without saying anything.

—-

The ICU smelled even worse than the rest of the vast halls of the hospital. That was the first thing Richie noticed as he was being lead through a hallway. He focused simply on his steps and on the nurse showing him the way. Shortly after, the nurse came to a stop next to a door labelled „9“. She opened the door and held it open for Richie, following inside after he entered.

Eddie was lying there so peacefully despite all of the tubes and machines he was hooked on. Richie quickly walked towards the bed and the nurse got him a chair from out of the corner of the room. „Thank you,“ he whispered, steadying himself on the chair he was just given. „You‘re welcome,“ she smiled.

Richie sat down then, pulling the chair as closely to the bed, to Eddie, as possible. „He‘s very lucky,“ the nurse, Max, Richie noted from her name tag that he had only just noticed, began „To have you by his side.“

„Thank you,“ Richie stammered, not looking at her. He felt ashamed for lying. He wasn‘t Eddies partner or boyfriend or whatever it is that he claimed to be and he never will be. He felt so sick of himself.

But he wished for it to be true so bad.

„Can- Can I touch him?“

„Sure, just be careful of the tubes,“ Max replied with a small smile. „I will leave you two alone for now.“ Then she left, and the last sound Richie heard was the door shutting behind her.

Hesitantly, he reached out for Eddies hand, and he pulled it towards himself to hold it. Just to hold it. To hold Eddie.

Hours went by with Richie just sitting there and talking to Eddie, hoping he could somehow hear him. „We did it, Eds. We really did it. We made it,“ he‘d say. Over and over again. Maybe it wasn‘t just for Eddies ears. Maybe it was to convince himself too, to reaffirm it to himself, to realize that this was real. The beast that had plagues this town for centuries and tortured them for almost their entire life was finally defeated.

Sometimes Max would show up, checking in on Eddie. Somtimes another nurse would come instead. His name was Arthur and he had really kind eyes.

„He‘s strong,“ he commented one time whilst checking Eddies vitals „he‘ll probably wake up in no time. Someones definitely watching over him,“ Arthur said, looking over Eddies body to smile at Richie. Richie smiled back, letting his gaze drop to Eddies limp hand in his.

„Yeah,“ he breathed.

Then Arthur left again, and Richie was back to being alone with his thoughts and a sleeping Eddie by his side. He wondered about the nurses words, about how someone was watching over Eddie. All Richie could think about was a young boy enthralled with birds, a young boy who loved them all so much, despite barely ever admitting it. A young boy who continued to look after them time and time again, giving them showercaps to protect their hair of spiders, warning them of various dangers they were getting into but still following them into them. The boy that knew all of Richies secrets, the secrets he would share with him when they were sitting in his room late at night. Stan even knew his biggest secret, and he never even dared of judging Richie for it.

And Richie hated himself for ever having allowed himself to forget him.

Yes, Richie thought, there really was someone watching over Eddie.

And with Stan and Eddie on his mind, Richie slowly drifted off to sleep. The exhaustion of the day having worn him out too heavily for him to keep his eyes open any longer.

—

„Do you think they‘ll tell us when he wakes up?“ Ben asked, his leg bopping up and down rhythmically. „I th-think so,“ Bill replied, his gaze fixed to the door across the short hallway. „At least I h-huh-hope so,“ he continued.

„I‘m sure they will,“ Beverly assured. She didn‘t know for certain, but she didn‘t want anybody to worry more than they needed to. „Besides, Richie is with him. He‘d come and tell us if no one else did.“

„Yeah,“ Ben tried to convince himself. „I need a coffee, anybody else need something?“

—-

Richie was woken up by two hushed voices speaking. He opened his bleary eyes and raised his head only to notice that Eddies hand was no longer in his.

„Eddie?“ he asked groggily, his brain not quite registering all of his surroundings yet. Then it all started to seep back in again. He felt the light breeze from the opened window again, heard the white curtains rustling from the wind. Noticed the blinding light illuminating the entire room, focused back on Eddie lying in front of him and Max standing by his side.

„'D he wake up?“ he heard a groggy voice ask.

His gaze fixed onto Max, who was looking over at him. „Yes, it looks like it,“ she answered as she turned back towards Eddie.

And then all of a sudden Richie was wide awake. „Eddie,“ he said. „Eddie,“ he repeated it like a mantra. He stood up so quickly that his head began to spin and his chair almost fell over. Within seconds he was leaning over Eddie, covering his cheek with his hand. „Eddie,“ again, but desperate.

„'m here, Rich,“ Eddie assured him, his voice still sounding sleepy. Richie stroked through Eddies hair with his other hand, looking up at Max now. „When did he wake up?“

„Just about five minutes ago. We just wanted to wake you up but it seems like that wont be necessary anymore.“

„Yeah,“ Richie affirmed, „thank you, Max. For everything.“

Max shrugged nonchalantly, giving him a big smile before saying „of course, you‘re welcome. I‘ll leave you two alone now for a while,“ and then she was gone again.

„My god, Eddie. You did it,“ Richie breathed, now covering his other cheek with his other hand as well, careful to avoid touching the stitches there.

With shaky hands Eddie reached up to hold onto Richies wristst and he closed his eyes momentarily. „We did it,“ he repeated.

Some of Richies tears fell onto his hands, some then rolling down onto Eddies face but they both ignored it, too engrossed in their feeling of ecstasy to care.

„I thought I would lose you,“ Richie admitted „I was so scared.“

„I‘m sorry,“ Eddie replied. „You won‘t lose me.“

—-

„Are you waiting for Eddie Kaspbrak?“ The nurse that had just stepped out of the ICU asked them.

„Yes,“ Mike replied for all of them, his voice laced with anxiety.

All of the waiting losers got up out of their seats and jogged towards Max.

„He‘s awake now. Our policy only allows for two visitors at a time and I do believe Mr. Tozier will want to stay with him so only one of you could visit him at this time.“

Ben spoke up next „Oh, thank god. Thank you so much.��

„Wh-Who wants t-to go first?“ Bill asked, looking at all of them in turn.

„I‘ll go, if nobody minds,“ Beverly spoke up. All of the losers agreed to it and Beverly was lead through the same hallways that Richie had walked just a few hours ago.

—-

Eddie had to spend the next two days in the ICU before he was moved to a different room since he was in a stable condition and his wounds were healing very well and fast.

Since he was still very weak, he was asleep for most of the time he was in the ICU. Therefore he didn‘t notice a lot of the stuff around him, he did feel Richies presence though. Eddie would always know when Richie was around.

Richie had stayed the entire time. Three entire days in the hospital. The nurses, especially Max and Arthur, were starting to get worried. Whenever Max voiced her concerns, trying to get Richie to go home and take care of himself for a bit, she was met with protests. „No, no, I‘ll stay with Eddie,“ he would say.

The losers visited daily. Whilst Eddie was still in the ICU, they would take turns in who got to visit Eddie along with Richie. But Richie refused to leave Eddies side unless it was completely necessary. Later on, when Eddie was transferred to a single hospital room, they came as a group, all surrounding Eddies bed, everyone trying to talk to him at the same time.

He would chuckle a little, just as much as his stomach could handle without putting him in immense pain. And Bev, sitting on the side of his bed, would touch his arm as he coughed, and her eyes would speak so many words she couldn‘t say herself. „Thank you for being the bravest one of us. Thank you for risking your own life to save Richie. Thank you for saving him.“

The losers all stayed with him until they had all made sure he was completely fine. One wrong word from him could mean they stayed another hour longer. Eddie didn‘t want them to worry too much so he began to imply that they should leave, saying that they probably need to pack or something or the other. So by 4pm they had all left. All except for Richie, of course.

Eddie kept telling him to go with them, to eat something, to take a shower „you stink and look gross, Richie.“

„What did you expect, Spaghetti? Just a few days ago I was in the underground lair of an evil intergalactic clown. A man gets dirty.“

„You’re disgusting,“ he said and then he chuckled, followed by an „Ow,“ and him gripping at the bandages over his wound. Richie jumped up to try and help him somehow, anyhow.

„It‘s okay, it‘s okay,“ Eddie assured. „I‘m okay.“

Richie went silent, sat back down in his chair and looked down at his fiddling hands, to which Eddie raised his eyebrows in concern. „Rich-"

„You saved my life back there, Eds,“ he took a shaky breath „and you almost died.“ Almost. No, not almost. Eddie died. He was dead. Richie felt it, he felt the absence of a pulse, of breathing. Sometimes Richie even believes Eddie really died down there. That this was just a dream his grieving brain was making up for him. Or maybe he even died with Eddie down there and this is his afterlife. Oh what a beautiful thought that was... Spending eternity with Eddie. With his minds version of him and the losers. The version of them he had still ingrained in his brain; how they all were 27 years ago.

„I didn‘t,“ Eddie replied, turning his face over to Richie, his pillow rustling underneath his head. All was real. And steady. Eddie was here and he was smiling at him and he was so beautiful.

Suddenly the door opened and Max came striding in. „Good evening, Eddie,“ then she noticed the other man still sitting next to his bed „Richie,“ she added with a concerned smile.

„Hey,“ Eddie replied, giving Max a small smile and Richie simoly lifted his hand in greeting.

Max had grown quite close to Eddie and Richie in the very short time they had known her. She was one of the most compassionate and kind people Richie had ever met and he appreciated her so much. She even recognized Richie from a video one of her colleagues had sent her of him. Wondering what video it could‘ve been, he asked her, and she showed it to him. He regretted it. It was from his show right after he had gotten Mikes call and Richie felt like throwing up again right then and there. She had noticed and comforted him as he struggled to find an excuse for his behavior. She stopped him, told him she didn‘t need an explanation, that he wasn‘t obligated to give one, and continued to calm him down.

Yeah, Richie really liked her.

„Now I know that it‘s none of my business and I know you love your husband but I really think you should go home, Richie. Take a shower.“ She then wandered towards the windows to open one of them, letting the fresh air waft in, not noticing Eddies wide eyes or the way Richie shifted in his seat uncomfortably, avoiding Eddies gaze.

When she turned back around she was immediately met with Eddies shocked face, his mouth agape and his eyebrows raised so high Max felt like they might connect with his hairline soon. „Oh, you didn‘t know this, Eddie? He hasn‘t left since you‘ve been admitted yesterday,“ she tried to explain.

Eddie tried to gather his thoughts that were strewn around in his mind, tried to make them make sense without any success. After a minute of complete and utter silence throughout the room, Eddie realized that Max had spoken to him and he was expected to answer. He decided to play along for Max.

„He didn‘t?“ he asked in a shaky voice, even though Eddie was fully aware that Richie had never left his side. Richie could be smelled miles away.

Max gave him a sweet smile before she walked back towards the door. She opened the door but before she left she turned back around, leaning her back against the open door to prevent it from closing again. „You should have seen him. Holding your hand when you were asleep and talking to you when he thought no one was around,“ she gave Richie a small wink as he shyly looked at her „you have something very special. Hold onto it.“

And then she was gone, and the door fell back closed with a dull thump. The wind whistled outside, the curtains rustled against each other as the cold air paid them a visit. Richie had his gaze fixed on the closed door, his hands in his jacket pockets. It was Eddies jacket. Mike had brought it when he had visited two days prior. If Eddie noticed, he didn‘t mention it.

The bedsheets rustled, echoing throughout the white room as Eddie tried to sit upright. Without a single word, Richie quickly jumped to his feet to help Eddie up and to put the pillow behind his back for some comfort. As soon as Eddie was sitting, Richie tried to move back to his own seat but Eddies hand on his shoulder prevented him from doing so.

When Eddie was sure that Richie would not sit back down and ignore that this had ever happened, he let him go. Richies - No, Eddies - jacket still held the crinkles from Eddies fist.

Taking a deep breath, culminating all of his strength, all of the bravery he knew he had thanks to Richie, he asked „Why did she call you my-,“ he swallowed around the word „my husband?“

Richie sighed, looked up at the ceiling, then back down, rubbed his neck, shoved his hand back into his jacket pocket. „Eds, I-" he adjusted his glasses. The crack in them still had some blood left in it. Eddies blood.

„I can‘t do this,“ Richie admitted.

He slumped back down into his chair, taking off his glasses to rest his head in his hands, gripping the bridge of his noses as he squeezed his eyes shut.

„Rich...“

He took a deep breath and put his glasses back down, he stretched his back and adjusted his stance, but he didn‘t look up at Eddie. He was terrified of what he‘d see there. What Eddies eyes would tell him.

„Okay, okay. I told them you were my partner so I could stay with you,“ Richie said. This was it. This is what it was about, right?

Right. „Okay,“ Eddie answered. „Okay,“ he repeated.

„Eddie, I-"

„Don‘t. Richie Tozier don‘t you dare apologize to me.“

Richie looked up at him then, finally meeting Eddies eyes, and the wind seemed to calm down outside.

Eddie was looking at him with such an intensity that, for a second, Richie was unsure if this was the same small and insecure Eddie he had fallen in love with all those years ago. „Richie,“ he said, and then, back in his small and shaky voice he repeated it „Richie,“ he took a deep breath „remember when I said I needed to tell you something?“

Richie frowned at him, shaking his head ever so slightly. Whether in answer or in disbelief, Eddie did not know. „And I said that I fucked your mom?“ He continued, and Richie nodded „Yeah, I remember.“

„That wasn‘t what I wanted to tell you. I-" he paused, tried gathering back his strength, searching in every nook and cranny in his mind for that one surge again. That one surge that had saved Richie and brought him here. „I wanted to tell you that I‘m in love with you.“

No reply came. Instead Richie was looking at Eddies face but he wasn’t really looking, Eddie saw that. His heartbeat had gotten so fast that he thought Richie could hear it.

The wind picked back up outside, Richie felt the breeze against the back of his neck, making his hairs stand up from the cold and he rubbed his arms for warmth.

Eddie was terrified, he really was. But there was still that little current of bravery in him. The little current that would never leave him again. He wouldn‘t let it. One day it would grow so big that Eddie could do anything, anything at all, and Eddie was excited for that day. Today wasn‘t that day, but it was the beginning of his journey towards it.

„Come here,“ Eddie then said, slowly trying to scoot over on the bed and lifting his blanket, inviting Richie to join him.

And Richie did.

The silence lingered on. They both listened to the distant beeping from another patients room, let themselves feel the cold breeze still wafting inside in short intervals. Let the blanket protect them both of it.

„I‘m in love with you too,“ Richie spoke into the echoing room, letting the wind carry his words outside and into the whole world. Finally letting himself admit it. Not only admit to his feelings for Eddie, but to his identity. The one thing he had longed to complete, and to finally find peace with. He‘s found peace. Here, in this bleak room on this uncomfortable bed, next to Eddie. His Eddie.

He felt Eddie look over at him and heard a small intake of breath before he turned his head as well. Richie pulled his arm out from under the blanket and laid it in between them, holding his palm out for Eddie to take.

Eddie did. And their palms fit together like they were made for each other. And Richie felt like he was 13 again when they made that blood oath - when he held onto Eddies hand with his bleeding one. They weren‘t bleeding now. And they weren‘t in danger anymore.

„Can I kiss you?“ Richie asked nervously, his thumb sliding over the back of Eddies hand. „Please,“ Eddie whispered back.

When their lips connected, all sound around them ceased. The car horns stopped blaring, the wind didn‘t howl anymore, the footsteps from the hallway stopped echoing throughout the room. It was just them. In this moment. Richie and Eddie. R + E.

Eddie pulled away first, leaning down to let his head rest on Richies shoulder as he sighed contently. „I‘ve been dreaming of this since I was 13,“ he admitted, smiling softly to himself. „Me too,“ Richie replied, resting his cheek on the top of Eddies head.

„You still smell like shit.“

Richie just laughed loudly.

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #beverly marsh #mike hanlon #ben hanscom #bill denbrough #stan uris #it chapter 2 #it chapter two #it 2019 #my writing #its also on my ao3 but im too lazy to link it

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xxisxxisxxis · 5 years

Text

Gateway Drug | Part Thirty-One

Table of Content or Part Thirty

Word Count: 3.7k

Warning(s): Explicit language, Explicit sexual content, Drug abuse

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The next few days were a whirlwind.

Nikki had been panicking because Vince had a previous count of drunk driving and now could face up to seven years in jail, which would have meant no more Mötley Crüe.

The news broke globally within 24 hours of the accident, and people were labeling Vince a murderer.

Our house had turned into a safe haven for Michael and Andy to grieve the loss of their brother, and for Nikki to grieve the potential loss of his band, all of them doing so in a haze of heroin, coke, and liquor.

Tansy's mother came to L.A. and had her and Sparkie on a flight back to New York so Tansy wouldn't get pulled into the mess and caught in the crossfire of the smear campaign spreading around Vince.

While everyone else was floating around on highs, dodging reality, I stayed rooted in it but distracted myself heavily.

A high pitch moan leaves me as I arch my back and cling to Nikki's hair, my fourth orgasm nearly causing me to pass out because he doesn's stop moving his tongue between my legs.

I sit up and try to crawl backwards on my elbows.

He pulls away from me and practically tackles me in protest.

"Nikki!" I laugh out tiredly, his lips dotting kisses all over my neck, spreading across my collar bone, ghosting the tops of my breasts. "Nikki, we need to go to our room before one of them comes-" I stop speaking when his teeth tug at one of my nipples, a breathy gasp leaving me.

We're in the living room, on floor by the fireplace, in perfect view incase Mike or Andy decides to come out of the guest bedroom.

"I checked on them a few minutes ago, they're passed out." He assures me, smirking before nipping at my other nipple, making me let out a satisfied sigh.

"They can wake up." I argue, and he pouts a little, giving me a mix of puppy dog eyes, and "fuck me" eyes.

"But...it's my birthday." He points out, his finger tips trailing down my stomach to the junction of my thighs, rubbing my clit. "And I just wanna play with my favorite toy."

His wise ass smile is back, eyes full of pride, knowing I'm not going to say "no."

I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, as another moan dares to spill past my lips as his fingers tease my entrance. I buck my hips, trying to get them inside of me, but he just takes his hand away altogether and chuckles at my frustration.

"You're right, maybe we shouldn't..." It's sarcastic leaving his lips and the second he gets off of me and goes to stand, I'm pouncing on him.

He laughs, gladly welcoming me, wrapping his arms around my naked body when I straddle him and our lips meet.

I pull away for a second to catch my breath, and tug Nikki's t-shirt off of him, and his face is covered by his black hair, making the both of us smooth it out of the way.

He looks up at me, his smile faltering a little, his hazel eyes doing their little tricks as a tell-tale he's got something coarsing through his system.

"What is it?" I ask him, furrowing my brows a little and he runs his thumb across my lip, his mouth tugging upward again.

"I'm appreciating you." He tells me and I raise my brows.

"What?"

"Razzle told me I should appreciate you. I guess since he's dead I gotta listen." He explains, still smiling, but it's obvious he's trying not to cry.

I'm not sure if he's crying because Razzle's not here anymore, or because his band's singer is about to face jail, and the other members aren't even speaking to each other.

The sex crazed energy is put to rest, and I give him a reassuring smile, trying to keep it together.

"It's going to be okay, Nikki." Is all it takes me to say for a couple tears to rush down his cheeks.

My thumbs brush them away before he's pulling me against him, nearly crushing me in his arms, as he burries his face in the space between my neck and shoulder and continues to cry.

It was the first time I had ever seen him cry, but certainly not the last.

Later in the night, I open my bathroom door, met by a hazey Mike, who's obviously been crying, smearing foundation on his tired face.

"The lighting is better in here." He tells me hoarsly, empty blue eyes never looking away from his reflection.

"No, it's fine. You do whatever you want." I assure him, rubbing my tired eyes. "Even at 3:30 in the morning." I mumble, dropping my panties and sitting on the toilet to pee.

He doesn't pay any attention to me, starting on blush next.

"Damnit." I hear him mumble.

I look up to see a line of water has cut through his makeup. He sighs out, wiping the tear, and I wipe and flush, washing my hands once my panties are back up.

Once I'm done, he's lining his eyes.

"Do you really believe in God or are those rumors shit?" He asks me out of nowhere and I furrow my brows a little and let out a soft breath.

"I do." I confirm looking at him.

"Do you think Razzle's up there?" He asks next and I tear up, but keep it together.

"I like to think he is, Michael."

"He did a lot he shouldn't have done...we all have..." He adds, quietly implying the worst.

"That doesn't mean anything." I tell him, shaking my head. "Razzle was alive hours after the crash, he just wasn't conscious. There's no telling what was happening between him and God." I explain and he blinks back more tears.

He closes his eyes, a slew of tears falling through his lashes and down his face, causing his makeup to run.

"Damnit." His voice cracks before he's suddenly pawing at his face in frustration, smearing makeup into his tears, wiping as much of it off his face frantically, beggining to cry harder.

I gently grasp at his wrists, pulling his hands away from his face and he falls into me, a sobbing mess.

I hold him until he calms himself, and I help him to the living room where Andy's passed out.

A part of Mike's grieving process was putting on makeup, wiping it off, putting it back on and repeating for hours on end. For some reason, that broke my heart more than him justing crying, would. It was like he was attempting to convince himself he was okay, and he wouldn't be convinced of that until he could put on an entire face of it without tearing up.

He gets settled and I head back to our bedroom where Nikki's in the bed, knocked out.

After crying earlier, he locked himself in his closet and only stumbled out to fall on the bed.

I really need to check in on Vince.

The day after the accident, the label sent Tom and Doc to give us a gag briefing: don't say shit about the accident and "no comment" the fuck out of reporters when they inevitably ask about it.

They forwarded the message to Tansy's mother so she and Sparkie knew not to say a word.

Anything major that hit, the label would send someone for a damage control meeting with all of us.

When I got pregnant and it got out that Duff was the dad, everyone, who didn't know me and Nikki, were shocked.

Because they were under the impression Nikki and I were so madly in love...because even when we were wanting to fucking kill each other we were being trained behind the scenes to put on a good show anytime cameras were around.

When Vanity announced they were engaged, the label shit bricks.

Part of people's interest in Nikki was his odd marriage to someone the complete opposite of him.

The King of Sleaze was "settled down" and married to a devout christian and that kept people talking.

The label couldn't risk Vanity's fuck up painting Nikki in a bad light and negatively impacting sales-even though record sells doubled for Hanoi and Mötley after Vince indirectly killed Razzle-so as soon as they could, they got me and Nikki in a room together and told us Doc would be releasing a statement on our behalf, dismissing Vanity's claims and assuring people we were happier than ever.

Nikki was too stoned to give a damn, I was too exhausted because I had been up for two days processing everything, so we both said "whatever" and went on hating each other and fighting behind closed doors only to go on smiling, laughing, staying all up on each other, and kissing in public to maintain the bullshit narrative of a happy, healthy relationship.

"He's like a zombie, Viv, it's freaking me out." Sharise tells me over the phone and I exhale.

"So is Nikki." I reply.

"How're Mike and Andy holding up?" She asks, and I peek my head out of the kitchen to see the boys passed out on Nikki's persian rug infront of the fireplace.

"They aren't." I don't know how else to put it. "They're joined at the hip with Nikki, mostly. If he goes out, they go out, whatever he loads up on, they load up on and they all come home too messed up to comprehend much of anything. Which, being that they're grieving, that's the way they like it, I guess." I explain, feeling Nikki's hands grasp at my waist, pulling me into him.

"Well, Vince isn't speaking to me, and he's been sleeping in the guest room so he can cry until he falls asleep at night."

"Me or Nikki can come over and try to talk to him if—"

Nikki's taking the phone out of my hand before I can finish, opting for me turn around and face him, reaching for the phone, only for him to pull away, reach over me and hanging it up.

"Nikki, what the hell?!" I scold, yelling in a whisper to keep from waking our guests up.

"Don't volunteer me to do shit I don't wanna do." He tells me.

"Vince is your singer. He's one of our best friends, and I've known him for over ten years. He needs us, baby."

"If I'm gonna grieve with anyone, it's gonna be the dudes that just lost their drummer. Not the sloppy motherfucker that killed him."

His words knot my heart up, physically hurting me, and he's going to our bedroom before I can argue, and I just follow after him.

"Nikki, you don't mean that." I state, shutting the door and he digs through his mess on the floor to find a t-shirt.

"No, I think I really fucking do." He argues back.

I cross my arms, raising a brow, about to start an explosive argument but not caring.

"Razzle got in the car with him." I state and Nikki suddenly stops in his tracks, gloomy hazel eyes cut sharply at me.

"What did you just say?" He asks me in a hiss.

"I said, 'Razzle got in the car with him.' He knew Vince was drunk. He knew something could have happened and he still got in the car. Just like Vince knew something could have happend and still got behind the wheel. Neither of them had any business doing so." I tell him.

He comes closer and closer, and I take steps back until my back is against the door.

His hand rests beside my head, and he lears over me, obviously not sober, clenching his teeth together, pointing his other finger in my face.

"If you want to go suck his dick and baby him for being a fucking shitty person and fucking the band up, then you can. But don't bother coming back, and don't fucking drag me into it because I sure as fuck don't feel sorry for him."

"He's not a shitty person for making a mistake, Nikki. How the hell can things be so strictly black and white to you?" I ask, tearing up.

"I just don't sympathize with people who don't fucking deserve it." He tells me, raising his voice. "But God knows you fucking do."

The irony of him scolding me for giving people second chances when he's the main one I've given multiple chances to, is so thick it's beyond my comprehension.

"Yeah." I stay calm, my voice shaking to hold back tears. "God knows I really do."

I go to open the door, but his hand slams it shut as he says, "I'm not done."

Frustration pushes my tears from my eyes, rolling down my cheeks and I take a heavy breath before turning to face him.

"Then say what you need to say because I have better things to do." I snap, and he rolls his jaw, letting me get under his skin.

"Nothing." He scoffs, taking a stumble back, motioning to the door. "Just go. Go do whatever the fuck you wanna do because you're gonna fucking do it anyway."

I roll my eyes and step out, the door slamming shut behind me.

When I get to Vince's I park my freshly repaired corvette and let myself in, stepping up the steps to see Sharise on the couch, watching National Lampoon's Vacation.

She looks at me and pauses it before she stands up to hug me.

I can tell she's been crying.

"Nikki didn't come?" She asks me.

"He's not in a good place right now...none of them are." I tell her. "But he'll be over here as soon as he can be." I promise.

"He hasn't come out, and the police department called and want him to come back in tomorrow to answer some more questions." She says to me, lowly, and I nod. "He won't talk to me, he only comes out when I go to bed, Viv."

"I'll go talk to him." I assure her, giving her hand a little squeeze before heading to the guest bedroom.

I only knock on the door once before I hear "just leave me alone, Sharise!"

I roll my eyes and reach my hand above the door frame, feeling for the small steel pin with a flat end.

I unlock the door, to see Vince on the bed, a thick scent of alcohol, pot, and heroin.

No needles are around so I'm assuming he smoked it.

"Fuck off, Sharise!" He yells, not bothering to look at me and I raise my brows.

"Not Sharise...but I'm glad Nikki isn't the only one telling his loving and devoted wife to 'fuck off'." I reply flatly, crawling into bed with him.

"Fuck off, Viv." He mumbles, rubbing his eyes and I let out an exhale.

"Vince-"

"I fucked up. Royally. No amount of 'it will be okay' or 'God's letting this happen to you for a reason' will make me feel any better. My friend is dead. I killed him. I'm going to jail. My band hates me. I've let my fans down."

"Nobody lives or dies without God's say so. Maybe Razzle's death is him saying 'slow down because none of you are invincible.' And let's not pretend you being a rich Rockstar won't just get you a slap on the wrist, because you won't be in jail for long, if at all. I don't agree with it or think it's fair but that's good news for you. The band doesn't hate you. None of them know how to go from here, though. Your sales have doubled for Mötley Crüe in the past two days, Vince. You haven't let your fans down, but you owe Hanoi Rock's fans an apology because they're done with." I tell him. "You have a pregnant wife that needs you now more than ever and instead of being with her and letting her comfort you, you're isolating yourself and trying to fix yourself by avoiding feeling sad with self-medicating."

"You a fuckin' sobriety coach now or something?" He smartly croaks out, finally looking at me, a tear leaking out of his tired brown eyes and I swipe it away with my ring finger.

"I'm a worried friend that's witnessing multiple people she cares about drown themselves in distraction instead of taking a few days to actually, soberly, feel everything, get their minds around it, and go from there." I correct him. "You have to stand in front of a judge at some point. I suggest you do so with little to no trace of drugs and liquor in your system." I add.

"This doesn't happen to people like me." He states. "It just doesn't."

"You didn't get into that crash as 'Vince Neil, lead singer of Mötley Crüe.' You got into it as 'Vince Neil, incredibly drunk.'" I counter and he shakes his head a little, sniffling. "Sharise needs you right now." I remind him, sitting up to get rid of the mess he's made.

Once all empty bottles are discarded and drugs flushed, I come back into the room to see Sharise laying beside Vince as he cries.

I don't say another word, shutting the door and leaving them to it.

Checking my watch once I get back inside my car, it's only 8:30pm, which means Nikki hasn't left our house yet.

If I walk in before he's gone, it'll be argument-central.

I remember Duff mentioning he was off work for a couple days if I needed anything.

I didn't necessarily need anything in particular, I just started to really dig being around Duff. He always had a good energy about him that wasn't ever brought on by booze or drugs. He didn't have to get fucked up to be fun to be around, it was just his God given gift of many.

The second he opens the door and sees me, he's on a mission.

"Come in, gimme a second." He tells me, stepping to the kitchen.

I shut the door and step inside, the smell of cigarettes seemingly calming me.

"Okay, I have comfort food, and tissues incase you need another cry session with The McKagan." He informs me, holding a jumbo package of gummy worms, and a big-ass bottle of Pepsi. "I know this a lot but it was either a small bottle of Coke or this and I remembered you like Pepsi more than Coke and strongly emphasized they do not taste the same so..." He holds it out to me and I accept it my heart nearly bursting with warmth. "And here." He hands me the gummy worms.

"You didn't have to get me this." I hold back tears, not of saddness, but because he's struggling to make ends meet, yet spent money on me, even if it wasn't a lot.

"One of your friend's passed away, Viv. I kinda did." He tells me as we both plop down on the floor in front of the coffee table.

I notice a notepad with words scribbled on it, and his bass on the floor where he had put it down before answering the door when I knocked.

I open the bag of gummy worms and he uses the sharp edge of the coffee table to open my Pepsi.

"Thank you." I mumble, taking it from him, glancing at the notepad as he reaches for his bass. "Are you writing something?" I ask and he blushes a little, letting out a little chuckle.

"I am. Well, it's written, already, and already got a demo tape I'm just trying to tweak a couple things incase I end up using it later." He explains and I raise my brows.

"A whole demo tape?" I ask, amused.

"A shitty quality demo tape." He tells me, smiling nervously.

"For this song?" My finger taps at the paper pad and he nods.

"Yeah, that one."

In giant letters, the title reads, "It's So Easy", and before I can read the lyrics, he's taking it away.

"I don't know if I want you to know about it." He tells me and I furrow my brows.

"Are you scared I'm gonna take it to Nikki and steal your song?" I ask, knowing that isn't why, and he shakes his head, rubbing his lips together.

"It's kinda raunchy." He explains. "Like...a lot. I mean, it's a fun song, I'm not even sure if I want it on a album or anything because it's like...tongue in cheek. I don't want you to think I'm an asshole. Like, I'm not like this." He waves the notepad.

"Duff, I know you're not an asshole." I reply, nudging his leg with my knee as I turn to face him. "You don't have to show me if you don't want to, but I wanna hear it." I shrug.

He just looks at me for a second before picking up his bass, rubbing his forehead and sighing.

"Tongue in cheek. I'm not like this. I'm not an asshole." He points at me, and I nod and wait patiently.

"It's So Easy" became one of my favorite Guns N' Roses song, before Guns N Roses even existed.

I quickly realized what Duff meant when he said "I don't want you to think I'm an asshole" when the lyrics "Ya get nothin' for nothin' if that's what ya do, turn around, bitch, I gotta use for you" came out of his usually respectful mouth.

Duff was never that type.

When he was single, he was SINGLE. He would sleep with multiple girls in one day, sometimes at the same time and live it up. But he never went anywhere thinking "I'm gonna do all I can to fuck a shit ton of girls tonight."

He would let them approach him and if it happened it happened, and he wasn't an entitled asshole to them.

If he wasn't single, however, he wouldn't even pay other girls much attention.

He would just focus on booze, music, and goofing off with Steven or Slash.

I guess that's another thing that drew me to him.

#nikki sixx #tommy lee #vince neil #mötley crüe #the dirt #the dirt movie #gateway drug

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reddie-fangirl24 · 4 years

Note

prompt''you cant save me just go'' for reddie pls

NOTE: This is another prompt based on the film The Poseidon Adventure. A ship capsized in the middle of the ocean on New Year’s Eve and a small group of people has to make their way through the ship. I recommend this film! It is so good!

Support me on my Ko-Fi!

“You can’t save me, just go!” Eddie sobbed behind the flooding gate. The water rose higher and higher. Pretty soon it was going to rise over the heads, and eventually the gate, cutting Eddie and Richie off from seeing each other.

Mike splashed up from beneath the water, startling Richie. “There’s a door, but, it’s stuck!”

“Keep trying, Mike! Please?!” Richie begged his friend. His head was getting closer to touching the ceiling. He couldn’t feel a bottom where he was standing, making it harder for him to tread water. That was the same for Eddie’s case who was having trouble treading water. Since he was injured, it hurt most of Eddie’s mobility. Luckily, he garnered strength and fought back.

Mike nodded, vanishing back into the water. Richie returned his attention back to Eddie, placing his hand upon the gateway. “I’m not going anywhere! We are leaving together!”

Eddie clasped the small gate, choking on water. He grasped the cage where Richie’s hand was on the opposite side. He shivered all over. “I love you, Richie!”

“No, this isn’t goodbye! Do you hear me? Not like this!” Richie shook his head furiously at his husband. They didn’t have much time.

“I’m scared!” Eddie whimpered. He thought he was going to see his husband again when the swept him off his feet when that explosion happened. He never wanted these terrifying events to ever be the last few moments they ever spent together. Eddie wanted to grow old with Richie.

Richie looked into his eyes. Water hit his glasses making it harder for him to see. “Listen to me, Eds, the water is going to rise, but I am not going anywhere! You can’t get rid of me! I’ve sawn our hearts together remember? Where you go, I go!”

“Are you really quoting the couple from fucking Titanic?” Eddie laughed. He only had a little space left to see Richie. His head was very close to touching the ceiling.

“Now you’re calling me old?” Richie tried to laugh. Yes, this what they needed. In the most stressful situations, they always joked around, making everything better.

Suddenly, the ship exploded again, dangerously rocking everything around. A piece of the ceiling broke off, narrowly missing Richie’s head. He lost his balance slipping into the water. Nearly losing his glasses, Richie struggled back to the surface. He was not leaving his husband alone. He made a vow.

Swimming back up to the surface, Richie grasped what was left of the gateway. His husband wasn’t there.

“Eddie?” Oh, great. He loses him again. “Eddie!”

Taking a deep breath, Richie swam under the water. He could barely see anything. Not to mention, the cold ocean water stung his eyes. Punching at the gate, Richie banged at it screaming, trying to tare it down. It was no use. His lungs fighting for air, Richie returned to the surface, clinging to the pipes.

“No! No! Eddie!” Richie cried, slapping at the water. Not again. He almost lost him once. This couldn’t happen again. Not for real this time.

Crying, Richie leaned against the cage which was now flooded over. The ship was slowly meeting its doom, sinking into the ocean.

He was alone, trembling in the water which continued to rise. He had no idea what had happened to the others. Probably found a way out by now.

This should never have happened. No, he was not going to blame Mike for taking them on this trip for a New Year’s Adventure. And nobody expected that wave to capsize the ship. It was his fault for taking his eyes off Eddie for one moment. All this could have been prevented if he paid attention.

If Eddie was dead, then he was going to stay here. To die.

A splash and two people gasping for air caught his attention. Crying, Richie turned around to see what it was.

It was Mike holding up Eddie out of the water. He was coughing out the water, trying to open his eyes.

“Eddie!” Richie lunged into his arms, hugging and kissing him. Briefly, they fell under the water. Hugging was so difficult when you were trying to tread at the same time. Holding onto a pipe with one hand, Richie held Eddie closely to him, instructing him to breathe.

“Are you okay, baby?” Richie was so happy that he started crying again. He kissed him more than a hundred times.

Coughing once more, Eddie held onto Richie like a lifeline. “I’m sorry I scared you! Mike rescued me when the ship...”

“Hey, what did I tell you about being sorry? You’re here, aren’t you!”

Eddie’s lips trembled. “I love you, Richie!” And they kissed. It was long overdue that was for sure, ever since this journey began.

Mike got their attention. Knowing Eddie and Richie, they let things go to the extremes. “You guys, I hate to break this up, but we need to get out of here. Now!”

#Reddie #The Poseidon Adventure #reddie fanfiction #Mike Hanlon #angst #reddie angst #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #love #husbands #it chapter 2 #it movie

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unknownauthor · 5 years

Text

Heat

Pairing: Josh Washington x Reader

Warnings: smut, rough sex

“How could you leave him behind!” I scream at Mike, punching his chest. He grabs my arms, but I continue to throw punches angrily.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry Y/N! I had no choice.”

I had no choice….

No one knows I came back. I trudge up the mountain alone, having hiked since the cable car is now out of service. It’s a warm spring day, it’s been months, everyone thinks Josh is dead. Something in my heart says that’s not true, that’s why I’ve come back….To find him.

I make it to the ruins, what used to be the cabin. Memories flood my mind.

“I’m really glad everyone came back this year….and that, you know, you came back,” Josh smiles shyly at me, losing his confident demeanor.

“Of course...We’re all here for you Josh...whatever you need.”

I follow the safest path into the mines, my flashlight guiding me, it's as dark and lonely down there as ever. I swallow my fear until it’s a hard little ball in the pit of my stomach. I can hear water dripping and the sound of my feet, it smells like musk and death, a shiver runs down my spine.

I follow the path I had taken before, that night, when I was trying to get out. I’ll follow it all the way back to the spot where I left Josh and Mike to go with Sam, maybe, I’ll find-

I hear a crunching noise behind me and whip around, there’s nothing, I shake my head. All the wendigos are dead. I think. The fire killed them. I turn back and continue on my way.

“I don’t want to leave you with Mike,” I say, grasping Josh’s hand. He smiles at me, he looks completely exhausted.

“I’ll be okay Y/N,” he leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to my lips. I let out a quiet sob. “I’m so sorry….for everything.”

“It’s okay,” I sniffle, giving him a warm smile. “I’ll see you in a bit.” I hug him for the last time.

I hear the noise again. This time I pause, reaching into my pocket to grab the small pistol I had brought with me.

I see movement out of the corner of my eye, I aim the pistol and shoot. I miss. That’s when I hear the snarl, suddenly something has me, it grips my neck tightly and slams me into the wall, my feet kick the air as I claw at the cold hand, trying to free myself.

“S...Stop...Help….” I gasp. The creature leans forward, it’s nose dragging along the veins in my neck, it’s sniffing me. It pauses, dropping it’s hand from my neck, I fall to the ground, swallowing air.

“.....Y….Y/N……”my eyes widen, I can see the outline of the creature, but I can’t see it’s face. I reach into my pocket, pulling out the lighter. My whole blood floods with horror when I flick it on.

The creature that grabbed me. That said my name….The creature is Josh. He moves away, into the shadows, I scramble to my feet, looking in the direction he went.

“Josh? Josh it’s me….Y/N.” I see movement again and watch as he emerges from the shadows once more. He purrs, moving slowly towards me.

“Y/N….mate…..”

“What?” I ask, confusion evident in my voice. I don’t get an answer. He rushes me again, picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder. “Josh!” I cry out, he ignores it, pulling me deeper into the mines.

“I haven’t heard from you in a while….How have you been?” Josh lets me into his room. He shrugs as he turns back towards his bed, sitting on the edge.

“I don’t….I didn’t want to talk about it.” I sit beside him, keeping my distance.

“Well….I’m always here if you do. I care.” he smiles and nudges my shoulder with his.

“So what movie do you wanna watch?”

I’m tossed onto the ground, I groan slightly as pain shoots up my back. Josh is standing over me, I can see him a little better now and my stomach fills with dread.

Half of his lips are gone, large fangs protrude from where his teeth once were, one of his eyes is clouded over, like a cataract, the other is the same beautiful green that I remember. I shuffle backwards, he reaches down and grabs me by my ankle, dragging me back towards him.

“N...No….” he growls. I raise my hands in surrender.

“Okay...It’s okay Josh...It’s me….It’s me….” a flash of recognition washes over his face. He kneels in front of me, reaching out to brush my hair back from my neck. He presses his nose there again, smelling me once more. I am so confused.

“Y/N….mate….” he says again.

“Wha-” he picks me up roughly, slamming me against the cave wall. He he grabs both of my hands in one of his and pins them above my head, I stare at him in fear, he raises his free hand to my lips.

“Shh…” his claw traces my bottom lip lightly. “Mate….won’t….hurt…..” he leans in, pressing his body against mine hard, it’s cold, but familiar, he doesn’t release my hands and the hand that had once been on my lips was now sliding under my shirt.

“J-Josh….” he starts kissing and licking my neck, I can feel the vibrations of his purring against my chest, and I can feel him growing in his pants. “Josh wait-”

“No...wait….mate….now….”I clench my fists and grit my teeth as his own drag against my neck, I can feel my body responding, heat pooling in my center. He leans back, letting out a wild howl. “Smell….” he reaches down and cups my sex through my jeans, “....You….smell…..” he can smell it. My arousal. He goes back to my neck, all the while rubbing me through my pants, I can feel my body stiffen, my toes curling in my shoes as he licks and sucks on my neck, his hand around my wrists is holding so tightly my wrists are throbbing, but it’s nothing compared to the heat I feel between my legs.

He presses what’s left of his lips to mine and stops rubbing me, I whine into the kiss, not wanting him to stop, he slides his claw up my shirt, effectively cutting it and the front of my bra open. He growls his approval and leaves my lips to kiss down my chest.

“Ummm...Josh…” He licks around my nipples, flicking them with his tongue and kisses down my stomach, he lets my wrists go and they fall to my sides.

He kneels in front of me and presses his face against my clothed center, he growls again, nipping at the fabric, I help him unbutton them, but he, himself drags my jeans down my legs with his teeth. I kick my shoes off and step out of my jeans easily. He places his hands on my hips and presses his nose to me once more, clawing at my underwear and shredding them as well. He inhales deeply, rolling his head back and groaning.

“Mate….my...mate…” I place my hands on his shoulders as he stands again, wrapping his cold clawed hands around my waist. He kisses me harshly and I fumble with his overalls. Screw it. I think. I want this too much. He lets me shove them off his shoulders and down his legs. I push him back, reaching my hand into his briefs and taking his dick in my hand. It’s bigger than I expected, hard and there’s a knot growing at the base. Oh...It dawns on me suddenly, why he’s been calling me mate.

“Y/N….Mate…” I open my mouth to speak but he picks me up again, slamming me against the jagged edge of the wall, he’s not the most romantic lover. But this is not normal Josh. This Josh is animal, desperate for me. He pins my hands above my head again and positions himself, shoving his dick into my wet folds as hard as he can. A scream of pleasure and pain rips through my body.

“Fuck…” I whimper as he begins fucking into me. The rocks against my back are rough and scrape me, but he’s fucking me too good for me to really notice. His mouth is on my neck again, sucking and kissing, nipping at my skin as he fucks me hard, his clawed hand digs into my ass, the other grips my wrists tightly.

“....Mine….Mine….Mine…” he snarls. I moan, flexing my fingers, he’s holding me so tight they’re nearly numb. He bites my neck gently, as if he’s testing a spot there. I can only moan and try to keep up with him.

His hips stutter and I can feel the knot at the base of his dick growing, it’s getting harder for him to pull out, he lets my wrists go and I grasp his shoulders, digging my nails into his back. He turns me suddenly and we fall to the ground, he catches himself so his full weight doesn’t squash me. The grovel dirt doesn’t feel much better than the stone wall.

He lifts my leg, tossing it over his shoulder and thrusts deeper, growling as the new angle gives him even more pleasure. I run my fingers through his hair, tugging lightly as each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through my body. I can feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, my body begins to stiffen, he can sense it too.

“Y/N…” he whimpers. “M-Mate….” he turns my head and sinks his teeth into my neck. I scream, body going rigid as I cum. He lets go of my leg, opting instead to press his hand against my hip, trying to hold me still as I orgasm. His knot locks him inside of me and I feel him shiver as he lets out a low wail, his cum pumping into me. I’m seeing stars, the pain in my neck barely noticeable as he sucks and laps at the place where he bit me. I close my eyes and try to catch my breath.

“Y...Y/N?” I open my eyes to see Josh, normal Josh looking down at me, he tries to move, which causes me to gasp in pain as his knot still has him locked inside me.

“Don’t….Don’t move.” I groan, throwing my arm over my face. He’s propped up on his elbows, staring down at my naked body, a slight blush on his cheeks.

“Y/N….I don’t...I don’t…”

“Shh,” I reach up, pressing my fingers to his lips, he looks terrified and confused. “It’s gonna be okay Josh. I’m going to take you home.” he smiles gratefully before his eyes dart to my neck. I try to cover it with my hand but he moves my hand away, taking in his handy work.

“I...I did that?”

“You were pretty into it.” you laugh, he doesn’t find it funny.

“You came back...You came back for me…” he leans down, pressing his lips to mine, I can feel his knot pulsate, he shivers as he cums in me again. “Sorry.” he moans against my lips, I cup his cheeks in my hands.

“Don’t be. I’m glad I found you.”

#josh washington #josh washington imagine #josh washington one shot #josh washington fanfic #josh Washington fanfiction #josh washington smut #until dawn #until dawn fanfic #until dawn one shot #until dawn imagine #rami malek fanfic #rami malek fanfiction #rami malek preferences #rami malek imagine #rami malek

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 4 years

Text

S.T. REWRITE - S2:E9; Chapter Nine, The Gate - [Pt. 4]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

The survivors turn up the heat on the monstrous force that's holding Will hostage, and Y/n's powers are put to the ultimate test in the process. Eleven makes plans to finish what she started.

A/n: I hate but also kinda love that I know exactly what you guys are gonna comment this chapter 😑😆

By no means a warning but more ICONIC Momma Steve 💝 and no I could not resist leaning into it. I'm not sorry at all ✌ Also, there is a CRIMINALLY underappreciated Dustin moment near the end when he gets spit on by the spores, and yeah I just love Gaten. Thank you for making me laugh till my sides hurt, my dude ♡

||3rd Person POV||

The truck comes to a gradual halt before shutting down altogether. Hopper is the first to exit the car and is soon followed by El. Her heart plummets all the way down to her stomach when she gazes up at the building in front of her. All of her fears that had accumulated during the car ride over now manifest itself into a hole that swallows her up. In an instant, she's a prisoner again. A weapon.

[FLASHBACK]

The cat began snarling, and it quickly turned to whimpers of pain. Eleven was freely crying now as she looked between the frightened cat and Papa.

《•••》

Eleven struggles to break free from the men's hold as they carry her by her arms down, back into the room.

Sobs racked her body as she uses all her strength to turn and look back at Papa.

"Papa!" He steps out into the hallway and remains standing, doing nothing to help her, yet she still calls for him.

《•••》

Eleven's stomach sinks lower than she does as the platform she stands on descends into the tank. Her hands grip the rails tightly, knowingly her only connection tethering her to reality as she becomes one with the water.

《•••》

The very world begins to shatter around her as it collides with the Upside Down. All the while, she is still held captive in her mind, her body fights to be free and her arms bang furiously on the glass of the isolation tank.

Her horrified screams blend with the cracking of tile and asphalt as the lab begins to crumble.

[END OF FLASHBACK]

A thud rips her from her thoughts and she turns to find Hopper stepping away from the trunk, gun in hand. Her breathing is shallow but she manages to calm it for the time being. The screeches of the Demodogs ring continuously into the night, and Hopper scans the area.

"Alright," he assures, gesturing to the lab. "You let me do the heavy lifting up front, alright? You save your strength 'till we're below."

She does not answer, and Hopper knows it is not her usual silence. He sees her hesitant expression and feels a pang in his heart for her.

"You okay?"

Again, she does not answer. But her previously frightened gaze quickly molds into that of intense determination and she stalks off towards the lab with Hopper on her heels.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The first thing Steve notices as his brain begins to stir is the overwhelming amount of pain in his face and abdomen. There isn't a spot on his head that isn't throbbing, and as his face begins to twitch he notes his face is stained in blood that crusted and tightened his skin.

His hearing returns next and was that... sloshing he heard? He let out an involuntarily groan as he turned his head. His vision is still wildly out of focus but he swears he can make out the words, 'GASOLINE FILLER' on a large red canister. His vision worsens as he cranes his head up to look at the person holding it, and his brain tries desperately to make a connection.

"Nancy?"

Mike's brows knit together in an unsettled and puzzled frown as he looks at Steve unpleasantly.

Another groan escapes Steve as his head moves back to a more comfortable position, and shakily he struggles to bring a hand up to his face. He hisses in pain when he touches one of many injuries.

"No, don't touch it." Dustin's voice echoes several times in his ears.

He feels a hand gently pull his arm away from his face, and suddenly he's aware of an ice pack on his forehead. He turns his head the other way, still wincing in pain as every movement only intensifies the throbbing in his skull. Dustin sits beside him to his right, he realizes and in the back of his mind - the part that is still waking up - is trying to piece together where they all are right now.

Dustin smiles down at him.

"Hey, buddy..." he coos softly. "shh, shhh, shhh."

Steve tried to make sense of his surroundings and Dustin's words. His voice was echoing over his shushing and Steve tries desperately to listen.

"It's okay. You put up a good fight," a fight? Billy, he remembers. "He kicked your ass, but you put up a good fight. You're okay, you're okay."

Steve grasps limply for the ice pack and takes it from Dustin as he tries to find his bearings. He hears another voice echo in his ears, still overlapping itself as his senses adjust.

"Okay, you're gonna keep straight for half a mile, then make a left on Mount Sinai."

It was Lucas. He was in the front seat. Wait, the front seat? It finally registers that he is in a car, but who the hell was driving?

Sluggishly, his head turns to the front seat, and who he finds only confuses him even more. Was he hallucinating? Dreaming? Hell, he sure hoped he was.

"Whas' goin on?" He slurs.

Max gripped the wheel nervously, she sits up a bit straighter than normal to see across the dashboard. Upon hearing his voice, she spares a moment to glance over her shoulder and studies his reaction.

"Oh, my god!" It comes out in a frightened chuckle and he begins shifting around.

"Steve," Dustin eases. "Just relax. She's driven before."

"Yeah, in a parking lot." Mike retorts in his other ear.

"That counts." Lucas defends.

"They were going to leave you behind," Dustin says irritably.

Steve is not listening to their jabber, the panic far too overwhelming. He's still shifting in his seat, unable to stop his squirming as he tries to process not only his current situation but the memories that continue to come flooding back from before he blacked out.

"Oh, my god."

"I promised that you'd be cool, okay?" Dustin says, trying again to soothe the young man.

"Oh, my god! Woah, woah, woah, woah. What's going on?"

Desperately he grasps at the shoulders of the two front seats as the car rapidly picks up speed. Max's foot presses harder on the small cardboard box on the gas pedal. The engine grows louder, and so do Steve's horrified screams.

"Woah, woah, woah, woah! NO! WHOA! StOp the car! SLOW down!"

"I told you he'd freak out," Mike snarls at Dustin.

"Stop the car~!"

"EVERYBODY SHUT UP!" Max roars. "I'm trying to focus!"

Lucas about jumps in his seat, his eyes grow wide and frantically he points just up ahead.

"Oh, wait, that's Mount Sinai! Make a left!"

"What?"

"Make. A. Left!"

"Shit" she mutters, jerking the wheel to the side.

The car hits a mailbox as it swerves to the other side of the road. Using the momentum, the car lurches to right as it swings a sharp left. Screams fill the car, and a tearful Steve clamors after Dustin. But eventually, the car redirects itself and they disappear down the road.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Three figures are sat around the still unconscious figure of Will, each of them already drenched with sweat. Much like themselves, hair clings to Will's forehead, and his clothes hold many dark stains of sweat. The temperature inside the cabin quickly began to climb thanks to the many space heaters and the full fireplace. Y/n sat waiting in the other room, her hands interwoven as she wrung them together.

Y/n feared things would escalate had she been one of the first people "Will" had seen. It was obvious the Mind Flayer was most threatened by her, hence her presence in what she could only guess to be El's bedroom.

She was going to wait. Only a bit longer. Not only was her strength still returning but she knew it would be a long and difficult process. She wanted to save her energy for when she needed it most. As it would seem, the wait would not be lasting much longer. Everyone's heads were picked up from the ground at the sound of a small gasp.

Her head whipped to the door, keeping her ears peeled. Will was definitely awake, she could hear his heavy breathing and she jumped to her feet nervously.

How would she do this?

Could she do this?

She only had so much practice.

Joyce's offer returns to mind, and immediately she dismisses the option of opting out. Y/n intended to keep her word, and her best friend.

Her motives are only confirmed when she hears Will begin to panic. It's not Will, she reminds herself.

But even that still manages to feel like a lie.

"What's happening?" She hears him pant fearfully. "It hurts."

Y/n hears shuffling, and she can picture him fighting against the restraints. Her mouth runs dry, and her throat sore as she hears the desperate and fearful cries of Will.

She knew this would not be easy, using her powers to this extent. But Y/n had been so worried about that, she forgot how painful it was to hear him in pain. And now she was going to be the one inflicting it.

"It hurts!" He screeches. "It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!"

At his bedside, Jonathan rises to his feet. His eyes widen at the sight of his little brother, and all pain he had felt previously inside the shed at home, was dwarfed in comparison to what he saw now before him. Jonathan's hand clasps tightly around his mother's.

Will was writhing on the bed, his face contorted in a terrified expression.

"Let me go! Let me go! It hurts!"

Now as Joyce stares at her son, he's more Mind Flayer than Will. Anger rises in her chest as she thinks of all the things this monster was ripping from her. All that he had ripped from her already.

What little happiness, peace, and sense of mind she had managed to scrape together after the prior year.

And it had already taken Bob. She wouldn't let him take Will too. With a determined glare, she throws her head over her shoulder at El's door calling out in a growl.

"It's time!"

Will's attention flies to the door, and for a moment, whips frantically between it and his mother confused. But his limbs still move, and he does not stop screaming.

"What's going on?! What's going on?! What's going on?!"

The lights flicker as they did in the shed, and when his eyes fall on the doorframe, every ounce of panic inside is multiplied and his struggle only intensifies.

"NO! NO! GO AWAY! NO! GET THE HELL OUT!" He screams. "GET OUT! GET AWAY! GET AWAY! GET AWAY!"

Y/n steps into view, her face hardened, fists clenched and chest heaving in shallow, nervous breaths. Her eyes are locked on Will and already, two or three spidery veins begin to appear around her eyes. They're faint, and hard to see without the thick layer of sweat illuminating her s/c skin and accentuating the usual faint bumps and indents of her strain.

"GET AWAY! GET AWAY! GET AWAY!"

She has joined Joyce's side, unaware heat has already begun radiating off of her tightly clenched fists. Her eyes are locked on Will's, and the closer she gets the more frantic he becomes.

The more frantic the Mind Flayer becomes.

The lights continue to flicker, and her breathing grows more shallow. Shakily, one hand rises out and her hardened expression cracks when Will's eyes go wide. His legs kick even faster, and using the restraints around his wrists he tries to pull himself as far away as he can from her.

"STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT! NO! NO! ENOUGH! STOP IT!"

Y/n hesitates, only briefly to lock eyes with the others and her gaze lands on Joyce. Joyce's lip is curled up in a furious pout, and she nods determined, giving the okay. Y/n turns her head to look back at Will, shuffling on her feet only briefly, and out of the corner of her eyes, she sees Joyce crank up the heat on the space heaters.

"Mom," Jonathan whimpers.

Jonathan looks on in terror at Will's reaction as Joyce circles the room, reaching every heater. She calls out in protest, shouting out encouragement to Y/n. His unease and pain grows with every second until he can no longer bear it. He whirls around on his heel and into Nancy's arms. Sobs rack his body as he weeps into Nancy's shoulder. She is crying too, an equally disturbed look fixed on her face as she cradles Jonathan close.

Y/n, all the while, takes a deep breath, trying desperately to tune out his horrifying screams and her eyes flutter closed. And while it wounds her greatly to do so, she lets the sound of his pain fuel her anger and in no time she feels the heat coursing through her veins and into her fingertips.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The vicious roar of an engine booms across Merrill's Pumpkin Farm followed by the crunching of wood. The tires of Billy's hijacked car barrels over the welcome sign leaving it in pieces. After many moments, the car comes to a screeching halt when Max finds them at the large hole that had been dug.

The sudden halt throws each body forward, and a rather petrified Steve rockets back into his seat.

"WOAH HELlo!"

A large puff of air inflates his cheeks, enunciating - and hurting - his crooked nose.

Gasps of surprise and awe ripple throughout the car, including Mike.

"Incredible," he breathes.

"Told you." Her gaze remains fixed ahead, but she quirks a brow and rips the keys from the ignition. "Zoomer."

The party wastes no time climbing out, and heads straight for the trunk where they had placed their many supplies. Steve, meanwhile, kicks and squirms in the backseat not unlike a ladybug stuck on his back as he tries to find his balance. He was still horribly woozy but given the unfolding events with the unruly kids he had no choice. His hands find the edge of the car and he pulls himself out, his legs unable to catch him in time. His hands and knees find the ground and it knocks a groan loose.

As Steve pulls himself up on his feet, he looks on in worry at what he sees them doing. A variety of bandanas and goggles are pulled from the trunk and wrapped around their faces.

"Guys," he slurs, draping himself against the door and car. "Oh, no. Guys,"

His swollen eyes widen a bit when he sees a now completely masked Mike struts around to the front of the car with the canister and some rope.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?"

He neglects to answer, infuriating Steve even more and kneels before the front bumper.

"What are you, deaf? Hello?"

Max is the next to follow suit, once again engaging the panicking babysitter.

"We are not going down there right now," he orders, his pointing finger once again plummeting towards the ground. "I made myself clear!"

Max heads for the pit, and Mike fastens the rope to the car.

"Hey, there's no chance we're going to that hole, all right?!"

Lucas walks past him without a word or a glance in his direction and joins the others. Steve stumbles to the trunk where only Dustin remains, ripping what few things he holds and chucks them back into the trunk.

"Steve!" Dustin calls, tugging swiftly on Steve's sleeve to keep him from chasing after them. "you're upset, I get it. But the bottom line,"

One by one, with Mike in lead and rope in hand, the party marches to the bottom of the pit where the hole resides.

"a party member requires assistance, and it is our duty to provide that assistance. Now, I know you promised Nance that you would keep us safe."

He reaches into the truck, pulling out Steve's backpack he had brought with him to the junkyard, complete with the spiked bat sticking out from the pouch. Dustin thrusts the backpack forward for Steve to take.

"So, keep us safe."

Steve glares at the kid, shaking his head with great distaste when a great sigh escapes.

He was cornered.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The drop is not as far as Steve had anticipated, but it still manages to take his breath away by the time he gets to the bottom. His mouth sits agape behind his new makeshift mask as he takes in the unusual setting he finds himself in. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before.

"Holy shit," he breathes.

When the others had spoken of tunnels beneath Hawkins, he had a hard time picturing anything but a tightly packed space. With walls compacted of damp earth littered with the towns undergrowth that smelled of dirt. He certainly had not expected a vast shaft the size of an average hallway. Instead of dirt, all one could see was a wall woven out of hundreds of vines of varying sizes under a thick coat of slime. And as the beam of Dustin's flashlight dances in the air, Steve understands why the need for goggles and masks.

The air was heavier down there, and not in the sense that there was less of it seeing as they were underground. But it seemed... otherworldly. Everything felt heavier, even the gravity oddly enough. Steve was also quick to catch on to the thousands of little flakes that hung in the air around him.

The end of Mike's flashlight lands on the crudely drawn map of tunnels they had procured in their limited time.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's this way." His words are slightly muffled from his mask, and his flashlights shift down one end of the tunnel.

"You're pretty sure, or you're certain?" Dustin asks.

"I'm one hundred percent sure," Mike yells, whirling around. "Just follow me and you'll know."

Mike turns back around to start the journey, only to halt in tracks when Steve begins yelling at him.

"Woah, woah, woah. Hey, hey, hey, hey," Protests Steve, walking up to the boy.

Mike throws his arms out in frustration despite his full hands. "What?"

"I don't think so. Any of you little shits die down here, I'm gettin' the blame. Got it, dipshit?"

He rips the map out from Mike's grasp and turns to the others. "From here on out, I'm leading the way. Come on, let's go."

One by one like ducklings, they fall in line behind Steve and they disappear deep with tunnels.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Two sets of feet scurry through the halls of Hawkins lab, their steps light and quick. Hopper and El now find themselves in one of many stairwells, and Hopper remains in the lead, gun drawn. What they find does not ease their already troubled minds. A trail of blood paints the railing and floors, continuing around the corner and down the stairs. Their trip through the hallways has already been littered with dead bodies around every corner. The carnage left over from what the Demodogs didn't finish. But this looked more like a crime scene than an animal attack.

And Hopper had a sneaking suspicion the person responsible was nearby and near-death if they weren't already gone.

"Stay here," he orders softly.

The poor kid had already seen enough. He had better scope it out, he figures. Especially if one of those dogs was still around. Softly he descends the first set of steps, his grip growing tighter around the gun as he inches around the corner. The tension melts away altogether at what he sees on the next landing.

"Oh, shit," he gasps, immediately descending the stairs.

He discards the gun off his back as he kneels to the floor beside a dying Dr. Owens. "Hey, Doc,"

The man sits propped up against the wall, his face drained of color and he is stained with blood. On his chest, is a sizable gouge that has turned a portion of his white shirt crimson, and one pant leg is ripped open to reveal a tremendous gash on his lower thigh.

Hopper sighs as he examines the man's wounds. "Those suckers got you pretty good, huh?"

Weakly, the doctor begins to gesture through a pained look on his face, and he tries to speak through shallow breaths. Hopper shakes his head and pats the man's uninjured shoulder.

"It's okay, don't talk. Don't talk. I got you, I got you, I got you," he reassures.

The man had already lost too much blood and was only loosing more with every second. Hopper had to act fast, and he knew the quickest way to slow the bleeding was to cut off circulation. Quickly, Hopper undid his belt and began fastening it just above the wound.

He hesitated only once, and quite briefly when he saw a funny look cross Owens's face. He glances over his shoulder to see El had joined them and was now quietly observing. Hopper returns to his work.

"Oh, yeah," he grunts, looping the belt around the man's leg once more. "I've been meaning to tell ya'. This is Eleven. Eleven, Doc Owens. Doc Owens, Eleven."

He can't believe his eyes as she stands before him, one of two missing pieces at the very center of the conspiracy he had been tasked with protecting. He had heard of her of course, and Brenner, and the other kid the madman was obsessed with getting his hands on. But it was strange knowing - seeing - the proof staring him in the eye.

He doesn't blame her as she stares at him wearily, in truth her heart is pounding being so close to him. Another labcoat from this place was the last person she would trust. Yet she lingered, only because Hopper seemed to trust this guy. Somewhat it seemed.

"She's been staying with me for about a year," Hopper continues. "and she's about to save our asses."

His eyes land on Owens, and he makes sure the man knows it. His expression hardens.

"And maybe when all this is said and done, maybe you can help her out, too, you know? Maybe you could help her lead, like, a normal life."

Owens listens, his breathing still slow and shallow and his eyes return to the young girl watching intently. She's studying him with an unreadable expression, and it suddenly sinks in all the things she was capable of doing. But so do Hopper's next words.

"One where she's not poked and prodded and treated like some kind of lab rat, you know?"

"I don't know," A protective and hostile glare is sent Owens way in the form of a greatly exaggerated sarcastic smile. "just a thought."

He yanks the belt tight assuring the man understood his threat. He flinches in pain and lets out a small groan. Once the belt is tied, his right hand comes to rest on Owens' shoulder and gives it a harsh squeeze.

"But, uh..." Hopper throws one last spiteful, and knowing look at him. Reminding the man silently of all she was risking by doing this. "think about it."

He doesn't let go until Owens nods feverishly, and his expression softens when he detects sincerity in the man's eyes. Hopper reaches for his holster and pulls out his revolver.

"Don't go anywhere," he says, handing the man his gun.

Owens' chuckles weakly at the man's words and winces immediately in pain. But he nods nonetheless and Hopper rises to his feet knowing he has done all he can for the time being. El's soft and widened eyes meet with his briefly, and the two disappear down the stairs.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Their journey to the hub was a tense and dubious one, and it was far too easy to doubt one's sense of direction. It was a maze, with danger lurking around every corner. Consciously, they knew the Demodogs were called to the lab and would most likely remain there to protect the gate. But that didn't encourage a single one of them to let their guard down. After a while, when hope had just begun to dwindle, the tunnels began to blend together and they knew instantly they were close.

None of them were prepared for what they saw next.

"God," Lucas gasps.

Surrounding them were several engorged, purple spores that spit more flakes into the air around them.

"What is this place?" Max wondered aloud.

"Guys, come on." Steve orders, marching on. "Keep moving."

The party obeys, happy to get the task over. All except the last party member who lingers at the back. Dustin reaches the small alcove last as his friends continue on, his attention captured by one of many pods on the ceiling. Completely perplexed, he finds himself fixed on the odd plant as it begins to breathe.

"What the hell?" His mouth hangs open behind his mask in a small gasp.

The pod continues to grow in size while simultaneously shrinking in on itself. In seconds, it spews a fresh batch of spores directly into the boy's face, sending him into a panic. He collapses to the mucky ground in a screaming fit, and he writhes around for a moment as he tries to stumble to his feet. Finally, he finds his footing and runs after the others screaming and sputtering.

"Help! Help! Help!"

"Dustin!" Mike cries out.

The others have already turned around and made their way to him at fast as they can. All the while, Dustin sprints across the alcove before his face plants in the ground when his foot snags on a vine.

"Dustin!"

"Dustin?!"

They scramble around him, trying to get a good look at him to find out what went wrong when Steve roughly shoves them aside to check on the boy.

"What happened? What happened?!"

Dustin is now doubled over on his hands and knees, coughing and sputtering as high pitched screeches tumble out of his mouth.

"It's in my mouth! Some got in my mouth!" He takes a deep breath. "SHIIIIIIIT!"

The others watch as more coughs shake his body, and quickly he begins spitting in a desperate manner. Finally, he begins to calm and that is when he feels all eyes still watching him. He looks up at them slowly, panting as he comes down from his panic attack.

"I'm okay," he says softly.

Everyone lets out a sigh, both overwhelmingly relieved and frustrated. They do not skimp put on giving him a quick scolding.

"You serious?" Max hisses.

"Very funny, man," Steve grumbles, standing up and resuming the journey. "Nice. Very nice."

"Jesus. What an idiot."

The party follows after Steve in a buzz of anger and Dustin scrambles to his feet in fear of being left behind. "Hang on, wait. Wait!"

The journey does not last long after, for within minutes they find themselves at the entrance of an even larger opening. They at once know this is the place they came for when they gaze upon the cavern they now find themselves at the edge of.

"Alright, Wheeler," Steve clicks his tongue as the others pool around at his side, gawking at the scene. "I think we found your hub."

Stretched out before them was a vast area roughly the size of the Byers kitchen and dining room combined. It was quite spacious. The ceiling had doubled in height and arched into the center to form a dome. Giant, purple spores identical to the one Dustin had encountered dotted the ceiling. And just as the map had predicted, multiple pathways connected all around them.

"Let's drench it," Mike orders.

The team sets to work divvied up amongst the hub. Each of them carries their source of fuel for the fire they had brought along with them. The stench of mold and decay was quickly buried under the gallons of lighter fluid they began dispersing. Lucas - who had been smart enough to snatch up the pesticide sprayer back at the house - covered the ceiling whiles the others secured the walls and ground around them.

Not a drop was left over.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Pain ripped from Y/n's throat in the form of a strenuous battle cry. Bursting forth from her palms were great billowy waves of heat, veins began to spread to her cheeks and jaw. Her cries end only to gasp for air. Her chest begins heaving at an alarming rate as her lungs swallow as much oxygen as they can take. A whimper breaks out though it is hard to be heard over Will's terrifying screeches.

Jonathan's hand around Nancy grows tighter, and he turns to her still fearfully. "It's not working."

He shifts attention to his mother. "It's not working! Mom, are you listening to me? It's not working!"

"Just wait!"

Y/n cries out once more, it has lost most of its anger and it sounded more wounded than anything. Jonathan's eyes fly back to her before hardening at his mother.

"We can't! Look...! Look at him!" He sputters, storming his mother's side. "Look at her! You're killing them! Y/n, stop. That's enough!"

"Jonathan, wait!"

Ignoring his mother, he calls after the girl as he marches for the heater ready to turn it off. His mother pries him away from the heater, but he does not go down without a fight. His mouth parts to argue, but Y/n quickly recaptures everyone's attention.

A grunt brews in her stomach and erupts from her chest. She shakes her head, her attention never leaving Will.

"N-no! I..." she whimpers again, and she feels her cracked and dried lips dampen with blood that dripped from her nose. "I can... do it!"

"Y/n, no!"

Will's head whips to his side in and urgent and unnaturally rigid manner, his now completely back eyes zero in on Jonathan.

"GET HER AWAY! GET HER AWAY! GET HER AWAY!" Jonathan's eyes double in size at the horrific sight, and what he says next is enough to paralyze him. "KILL HER! KILL HER!"

His head never moved, but his body never stopped. His fighting grew more intense and forceful, now breaking away at his skin as his wrists and ankles began to bleed.

"KILL HER, DAMMIT! KILL HER! KILL HER!"

The words buy a single moment's worth of shocked hesitation among the others, all apart from Y/n. She still had one more thing to try, and she knew she had to act fast. While the Mind Flayer's attention was diverted she had slipped to the other side of his bed, and reached for his arm.

The skin of her heated palm nearly made contact with his, but before it could she heard a snap, and she was out on the floor less than a second later.

"Y/n!"

"Will, no!"

Will's left hand had broken free from its restraint, sent flying through the air and into her face. His knuckles burrowed into the side of her head, throwing her back with a surprising amount of force. On her way down, a horrible screech left her throat that was soon cut short with a dull thud when her skull hit the cast iron fireplace knocking her out.

In the immediate moments that followed, they saw Will throw himself to the side of the bed. Joyce lunged after him, fearing he was trying to pry himself free from his other restraints, but to her horror she found his nails raking into Y/n's face, repeatedly.

"Will, stop! STOP! NO!"

Joyce and Nancy both run to the girl's aid as quick as they can. Joyce jumps at her son to restrain him while Nancy manages to drag the unconscious girl out and around the bed, safe from the Mind Flayer's reach. Joyce fights hard against her struggling son as he tries to reach after Y/n, but quickly his attention snaps to his mother. He whirls on her in seconds, his free arm shooting up at her and his now bloodied hand clamps tightly around her throat. Her hands fly to his wrists, now pawing at him as she tries to pry herself free from his grip.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The deeper they venture into Hawkins Lab, the closer they get to the heart of it all; the gate. Already, the familiar spores of the Upside Down have leaked into the atmosphere, the air cold and stiff. Hopper's flashlight journey's down the hall, finding the end marked by the two giant elevator doors. The very same himself and Joyce had entered the previous year to find Will.

What they heard next only confirmed the gate was just around the corner. It was the horrific howls of the Demodogs, and they were closer than ever as their shrill echoes bounced down the barren tiled hall.

"Stay here," Hopper repeats.

El stands rigid with her eyes fixed on the hall ahead, the closer she got the more vivid the memories grew. She watches studiously, not daring for a second to take her eyes off of Hopper as peers around the corner. Even if he did have the gun, even if he did tell her he would take care of them for her. That he was there to protect her, she'd knew now she'd never stop looking out for him.

Hopper's attention never strays as he slowly inches forward towards the lab. Just hours ago he had been in this very room when they broke through. As far as he could tell at that moment, the entry was clear but he knew the room itself was far from that. When he approaches the door - his footsteps still light and silent - he takes cover in the corner up against the door. He pulls his large pocket knife from his pocket, unfolding it, and slowly brings it into view.

Sure enough, in the slim and shaky reflection he spots several dozen Demodogs, all packed around the entrance to the gate.

They were guarding it.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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sidespromptblog · 6 years

Text

Amalgam: Part 2

Summary: Deceit never knew about fusions, and Deceit had never known that it was possible for two sides to be even closer than being in a relationship. That was about to change, it changed the moment that a man with a pink tie and glasses offered him his hand.

One,

He thinks that we hate him, Logan!

Patton’s agonized cry rang around inside of Emile’s head, as the moral side fell into a mental pit of sadness, tucking his hands under his legs as soon as he felt them start to shake. Emile gave Deceit a pained smile.

I am well aware of that Patton, but you need to calm yourself before we un-fuse right here and now in front of him. Take a deep breath, we’re here to help, and help is what we shall do. Relax.

Emile almost nodded his head in agreement with the words that Logan was telling Patton, but even so, he felt the emotional turmoil of Patton steadily ebb even as he felt his eyes starting to sting a little bit. The silence stretched thin between Deceit and Emile, and the dishonest side was absolutely sure that the so-called therapist of the mindscape was going to pronounce him a lost cause and just least him to cry his feelings out inside of another closet.

“What has led you to feel this way about the light sides?” He asked, clearing his throat as it gave a little crack in between his words, “Surely the light sides are not as...malicious and cruel as the dark sides.” However, almost instantly Deceit was shaking his head, the dishonest side’s fingers clenched at the fabric of his pants and it took a moment for Deceit to gather himself together in order to say what he really needed to say.

“That’s isn’t just it!” Deceit exclaimed, seeing Emile lean forward almost curiously as he remained sitting on his hands. “They do say things like the dark sides did, and they do treat me like they have in the past! But…” Deceit found himself fumbling for a moment, he’d never really thought that one day he’d be spilling everything to some guy he didn’t know. But now that he started, he found it almost impossible to stop. “I don’t know that they feel that way about me, I mean..I’m not a dark side. Of course, they hate me, I’m different. I’m a…” Freak.

The word burned on Deceit’s tongue, just as he felt his scales burning on his face and the memories burning inside of his skull and the tears burning inside his eyes. His fanged teeth dug into his bottom lip as he hastily blinked, trying to clear away the tears that were soon to fall. A muffled whimper bubbled up out of him, and before he knew it Picani was reaching forward, another box of tissues in one hand, as his other rested gingerly on Deceit’s knee.

“I’m not sorry, I shouldn’t be..I shouldn’t…” He blubbered for a moment as the warm tears trickled down his cheeks before he grabbed a handful of the tissues dabbing at his face in both an effort to clear away the tears, and to hide his disgusting face from Emile.

“Hey now,” Emile’s warm hand tenderly squeezed Deceit’s knee, “You’re a rockstar for trusting me to see you like this, crying over years of emotional distress isn’t bad..it’s healthy to let yourself have that reprieve. Bottling up emotions...can only get you so far, it’s by letting yourself feel and acknowledging them that you can grow and move on.” Internally Logan went a little silent as Patton took the reins, for the time being, it felt almost as if Patton wasn’t just talking to Deceit, but him as well.

The shoulders of the dishonest side shook even harder as he cried out into his bundles of tissues. The hat slipped from his head, revealing the waves of curls as he just continued to cry and cry like there was no tomorrow. All while it was happening Emile remained there, his hand on Deceit’s knee and the tissue box extended for whenever Deceit needed another tissue.

It took a long time, far too long in Deceit’s eyes, before he stopped crying so much. Giving the occasional sniffle he jerkily nodded his head, he was better now.

“I..I’m not sorry, no one has ever told me that before.” He hoarsely whispered, grasping the bundle of wet tissues tightly in his fist, but even so, Emile merely rewarded him with a warm sweet smile as his brown eyes looked into the other side’s eyes. It was then that he got the notion that this wasn’t the first time that Emile had dealt with a side who’d spent most of his time sobbing his eyes out in front of him. He was used to it, but even so, he knew how to deal with it.

“Deceit,” Emile softly began as he leaned back into his sofa, “Do you think that you might be having a cognitive distortion when it comes to the light sides? So far you’ve made assumptions about them, but...have you asked them? Have you truly talked to them, and got their opinion on you?” He asked, and already Emile knew the answer to that as Deceit shook his head, the dishonest side had always skirted around both Logan and Patton. It was pretty obvious too, that he did the same thing in regards to Roman and Virgil.

“I…” Deceit looked down before giving a tense shake of his head, “I can...I just...how on earth would I do it? They certainly don’t think that I’m a monster, approaching them..let alone talking to them would be doable! I don’t know how to get close to people!” He blurted out, the mixture of truth and facts confusing Emile for a second as he took in Deceit’s absolutely startled appearance as he leaned forward in his seat. The dishonest side’s fingers were clenching the fabric of his cloak, twisting and untwisting it again and again.

He was a mess.

There was a period of silence that seemingly stretched on and on, but it was soon interrupted as soon as a new light burned brightly in Emile’s eyes. Looking like something akin to hope. “There are other ways to get close to someone.” He blurted out, an eager little grin on his face that seemed to confuse Deceit even more. “It’s as easy as a song and dance!”

As soon as Emile bounded up to his feet there was a fight within in his head, as well as with Deceit.

“But I don’t dance!”

Logan are we sure that we want him to know?! He might not be ready and..

And what Patton? He has expressed a somewhat willingness to get to know us, and with this perhaps he can truly see that we..or at least the two of us don’t hate him as much as he thinks that we do. He deserves for someone to take a chance on him.

The pause from Patton went on longer than Logan would have liked, but even so, he knew that overall his words had won the moral side over. Alright...I trust you. The mental whisper from Patton allowed Logan to relax, he didn’t like to admit it, but Patton’s acceptance would have been the only reason he proceeded.

With a deep inhale resonating within Emile’s head, and as he exhaled Deceit watched in a mixture of horror and awe as a pastel purple separated itself into blue and pink.

Before him stood both Patton and Logan in the flesh.

Tagged:

@neko-ereri

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@greeneggsandham1998

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@sleepyssnail

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@elementalshadowwitch

@witch197

#I'm not a therapist #logan sanders #patton sanders #sympathetic deceit #ts deceit #deceit sanders #hurt/comfort #angst #emile picani #dr emile picani

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studpuffin · 6 years

Photo

The World as We Know It: Chapter 3

Read on AO3

“What the fuck was that?” Richie whipped away from Eddie and peered over the edge of the loft.

“Nothing good…” Eddie whispered, huddling closer to Richie. From outside, they heard shouting, someone pounding on the wall, throwing themselves against the outside of the shed, “Other survivors?”

“Or someone coming to kill us and take all our stuff…” Richie bit his lip as he slowly climbed down the stairs, gesturing for Eddie to follow.

“But..why would they want to kill us?” Eddie frowned, “Isn’t it smarter to stick together? Strength in numbers?”

“Or just more people to slow you down,” Mike whispered darkly from the corner, “Tragedy makes people do some crazy sick things.” he wrapped an arm tighter around Stan, who was curled between him and Bill.

Bill nodded, stroking his thumb over Stan’s arm gently, “S-should we go and w-who’s-”

“No,” Bev cut him off quickly, “We’re not doing anything until we know it’s safe. I’m not risking losing any of you.”

The voices got louder. And suddenly a familiar one broke through to the seven teens huddled in the dark.

“Vic come on! Put your fucking back into it.”

“Bowers,” Eddie gasped, squeaking softly as Richie covered his mouth. His eyes darted upwards and what he saw chilled him deeply. Richie’s eyes were dark, his mouth set, jaw clenched. Eddie has rarely seen Richie mad, never really mad at him, but this is a million times more intense than the few times he has.

Richie looks ready to kill.

The thought of Richie killing anyone makes Eddie shudder.

He killed your mom

Shut up that was different

Was it? Mike did say tragedy makes people do some sick things

Eddie whimpered softly behind Richie’s hand as the wood made an ominous cracking noise. Richie slowly let go of Eddie and leaned over to grab his bat.

“Mike,” he hissed softly.

“What?”

“Do you have the keys?”

“Of course I have the fucking keys, Richie.”

Richie nodded again, “Give them to Bev.”

“What?!”

“Give them to Bev.” he whispered urgently, as someone shouted triumphantly outside, “Mike now give them to Bev. Trust me.” he pleaded. Mike looks at him warily and then hands the keys to Bev, who grips them like a lifeline.

“Go start the car,” Richie doesn’t bother to whisper anymore. A hole is already starting to form in the wall and Bowers and his gang will be on them in second, “Bev go!” He shouted, fixing her with a look that leaves no room for argument.

Bill may be their unofficial leader, but Richie is their hero.

She grabbed Ben’s hand and they take off for the back door. She pauses, looking back over her shoulder at them.

“I love you guys,” she whispered.

Richie gave her a small smile, “Love you too Red,” he gave her a wink and for a moment it could have been like any other sleepover. For a moment everything seemed to freeze and they were able to pretend they were still living their old safe lives.

The door crashed open and suddenly everything is happening at once. Mike pulled a gun from the waistband of his jeans and moves to stand next to Richie, who's already shouldered his bat.

“Well well...Look what we got here boys. Bucky Beaver, Nigger, Stutters, Kyke, and the Fairy Boy,” Henry smirked cruelly at them, “Where’s the Slut and Fatass? Or did the walkers already get ‘em?”

“S-shut the f-f-fuck up Bowers,” Bill was standing next to Richie on the other side, shotgun in his hand.

“W-what are you gonna do about it Stutters?”

Eddie isn’t sure who moved first.

Suddenly Bill and Henry are wrestling on the ground, Bill screaming at the top of his lungs. Henry is practically cackling at him. Bill landed a couple of good punches. Henry spat blood into his face and looked over at Patrick.

That look sends the rest of them running. Richie and Patrick charged at each other, Patrick swinging a chain, and Richie raising his baseball bat over his head. Eddie looked away, flinching at the crunch of metal on wood. Mike has Belch flat on the floor, the gun spinning across the floor into the corner of the room. Stan is nowhere to be seen.

Hopefully, in the car, Eddie prays as the gun slides past him. He sees his opportunity to end this and lunges for it. His fingertips graze the cool metal before someone is grabbing him by the back of the shirt and pulling him up. An arm wraps around his middle, pinning his arms to his sides, and suddenly he feels the cold tip of a knife pressed against his throat.

“Alright! That’s enough!” Henry barked. Eddie willed himself not to tremble as he looks at the horrible scene before him. Bill was still conscious but barely. His nose was gushing blood, his left eye was swollen almost shut, and his breath was coming in short, painful sounding gasps. Eddie can’t help but notice him clutching his side.

Punctured lungs, bruised organs, broken nose. It only takes seven pounds of pressure to send someone’s nasal bridge bone into their brain Eddie’s brain helpfully supplied as his heart rate jumped exponentially.

Mike was at his side in an instant, pulling his head into his lap and soothingly running his hands through his hair.

“Let him go, Bowers,” Richie croaked. Eddie’s heart jumped again upon seeing the state of his boyfriend. Richie had a cut on his chest, blood seeping through his white t-shirt. There was a massive bruise on his cheek and his nose was bleeding. But he’s standing. He’s talking.

He’s also holding a gun.

Richie is able to kill. You know he is

Shut UP

Henry tightened his hold on Eddie, who bit down hard on his lip to stop himself from crying out as the blade cuts into his skin, “Or what faggot? You gonna shoot me? Miss and you kill your little faggy boyfriend. Because if you miss, you either shoot him or I slit his fucking throat.”

“I’ll give you whatever you want just let him go,” Richie sounded tired, but he’s still standing tall as ever. A full inch taller than Henry.

“Whatever I want huh?” Henry sounded practically evil and it makes Eddie’s skin crawl.

Richie nods and Eddie wants to sob.

“Supplies. All of them,” Henry paused, “And Red…” he had this awful predatory tone in his voice that made Eddie want to puke, “Don’t know when we’ll get another chance to get another girl out here if you catch my drift.”

Eddie watched in horror as Richie put down the bat, “Richie no! No!” he struggled and Henry pressed the knife harder into his neck. This time Eddie failed in holding back the gasp of pain.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Richie don’t!” Eddie pleaded again as Richie turned toward the back door where the van is parked.

Richie gave him a long look. A look that says trust me.

And Eddie does. God help him Eddie does. Even when Henry drops Eddie to the floor, leaving him a crumpled heap. Even when Richie’s voice floats over his head saying, “this way.”

Eddie lay there silently. Richie is his best friend. Richie is the love of his life. He knows Richie wouldn’t do something like this. Not to Bev. Not after everything she’s been through. Richie wouldn’t do something like this without a plan. So he lay there silently, trusting Richie, face buried in the dirt, breathing in the smell of hay and wet ground.

Bill was still wheezing and Eddie can tell it’s getting worse. He hears Mike’s hushed whispers and the rustle of the ground as Bill reaches up to grasp at Mike’s hands, and the dull cry of pain as the movement pulls on his ribs.

Eddie wanted to cry again. But no tears come. He must be all cried out. At that moment he truly hated himself. He felt so fucking useless. But he was too fucking tired to even think about moving, let alone be of any help.

So he listens.

At first, he heard nothing. Not even a whisper from Bill and Mike. Then he heard voices. Muffled yelling. A high pitched voice screaming (he prays it isn’t Bev), the sounds of a fight and finally a loud bang.

The bang seems to reverberate through Eddie’s bones. His ears ring. He felt dizzy. He felt sick to his stomach.

Oh, wait that’s the blood loss. Fuck He thought tiredly, touching the warm wet spot on his neck. He curled in on himself and wills himself not to fall asleep.

Someone shook him and pulled him to sit up. A familiar scent wrapped around him and he clung to the body holding him.

Richie…

“Eddie,” Richie took his face and stroked his thumb over his cheek, “Hey Eddie baby look at me,” his voice sounded weak and croaky, “Open your eyes Eds. Baby please…”

Eddie blinked and looked up into Richie’s face, and let out an audible sigh of relief. There was the Richie he recognized, brown eyes wide in concern. Eddie let out a sob and threw his arms around Richie’s neck.

“You scared the shit out of me you asshole. Don’t do shit like that ever again.” he sniffled as Richie pressed a kiss to his into his hair.

Richie opens his mouth to respond, but before he can say anything, Bill makes a horrible choking noise. Eddie sits up, suddenly alert. He scrambles out of Richie’s lap, collapsing at Bill’s side.

“Get Stan. Get Stan!” He looked at Richie, panic filling his voice, “Richie now!”

As Richie ran towards the car again, Eddie flew into doctor mode.

“Mike sit him up,” he urged gently, pressing a cloth to Bill’s nose in an attempt to stem the bleeding. Bill was pale. His breathing was shallow. Eddie’s chest tightens. Bill has been his best friend since birth. Even since before he had Richie, he had Bill.

He pressed his hand gently to Bill’s side, wincing at Bill’s shallow gasp, “Do you feel that?

Bill gave a weak nod, “E-Eddie…”

Eddie nodded, squeezing his hand, “Hey buddy.”

Bill gave his hand a weak squeeze, “Eddie...you…”

Eddie stroked his cheek softly, “Bill you don’t need to say anything. Just rest ok?”

Suddenly Stan was at his side, “Bill...baby,” He looked between Mike and Bill and then back at Eddie, “Eddie do something!”

“I’m trying!” he shot back, carefully wrapping the torn hay bag around Bill’s ribs, “Mike check his pulse.”

Mike pressed his fingers gently to Bill’s throat, “Fading fast,” he whispered.

“Eddie!”

“Stan I’m not a fucking surgeon!” Eddie and Stan finally make eye contact, and Stan looks ready to cry.

“So he’s gonna die…” It wasn’t a question. Stan curled closer to Bill and Mike, “I should have been here. I should have done...something…” his voice cracked, and he buried his face in Mike’s neck, “Can you give us a minute please?”

Eddie gave him a sad smile and pulls away from Bill, quietly taking Richie’s hand, and leading him towards the door. He refuses to look back. He can’t. He won’t. Not even when he hears Stan break. The noise that Stan makes sounds inhuman. It's heartwrenching. Eddie clings tighter to Richie’s hand and wills himself not to cry again.

They crawled into the van, curling together once again in the back seat. A little over 10 minutes later, Mike and Stan exited the barn. Mike was crying. Not loudly or openly, just a few tears rolling down his cheeks. Stan wasn’t crying, but his eyes are red like he just has been.

“We should bury him…” Eddie whispered.

“We can’t,” Bev shook her head, “Can’t risk him coming back. And we can’t risk anyone knowing we were here and try to follow us,” her eyes were misty and she was trembling slightly, “We need to cover our tracks.”

Mike nodded, “We need to burn it.”

No one stepped forward. And then Eddie’s voice filtered through the group.

“I’ll do it,” he held out a hand and Richie slipped his lighter into it. Eddie stooped to pick up a stick, deftly lighting it. He tossed the branch into the open doorway watching at the wood caught fire.

He closed his eyes for a moment taking a moment to center himself. He felt the heat of the fire, heard the quiet breathing of his friends. He takes a moment to say goodbye to Bill, the closest thing he had to a brother. He opened his eyes and turned back to the group. There were tears in everyone’s eyes, Stan hiding his faces in Mike’s neck again. He looked down at the blood on his hands. Bill’s blood on his hands.

Eddie swayed dangerously, reaching out for Richie who instantly pulls him into his arms. He lets out a shaky breath, squeezes his hand again, crawls into the van.

There’s no point dwelling on the past when there’s nothing you can do to change it.

Tag List: @tinyarmedtrex @dyslexictozier @sunflowertozier @richietoaster @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @totaltozier @richardxtozier @reddie-for-anything @aizeninlefox @reddiepop @oldguybones

#Reddie #it 2017 #reddie fan fiction #reddie fanfiction #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #reddie fanfic #The World As We Know It

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fanficmoi · 6 years

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The Fool By The Seaside Chp.7

“Do you enjoy working at library?”

Paul hummed, he was laying with his head on John’s tail, the merman decorating his hair with pearls and small shells. “I don’t mind it, y’know. My friend George works there, he’s a crackerbox.” He shrugged, “The pay is good, and my boss is nice.”

John tilted his head, his hair was still keeping his hair short, since he still felt the sadness and guilt over Ridire’s death. “Boss?”

Paul closed his eyes, the feeling of his boyfriend’s (Merboyfriend? Merlover?) fingers caressing his hair making him feel drowsy, “Yeah, y’know. The person is charge, tells me what to do, makes sure I get the money.”

John nodded, chuckling at his human’s sleepy tone. He curled himself up so that Paul’s head was still resting on his tail, but John’s head was resting on the human’s chest. He caressed the guitarist’s chest with a sharp but gentle nail, “Sleep,” He told him. “I will wake you up in thirty minutes, yes?”

Paul only snored in response, and John giggled in amusement. He kept an eye on the beach, not wanting to be surprised by some human. Paul had told him that nobody visited this part of the coast, it was far from the port and beach days weren’t really a thing with all the shit weather. But still, John was cautious. And he wouldn’t dare fall asleep on the beach again, the last time hadn’t gone so well.

Instead, he wondered about the future. He was with Paul now, but it was getting harder and harder to ignore the fact that they were from different worlds. Paul would have to move on someday, John knew. Get a human mate, have offspring, offspring with legs. John couldn’t give him that, he knew. But there was a little bitty bitty small problem, John was falling in love with his human.

John swam into his home with a sackful of shells, he’d gotten lucky today, finding a spot full of large, shiny (empty) shells. “‘ello, Mimi!” He shouted, putting his sack on the dining stone. “I’m back.”

There was no answer. John frowned, his aunt was usually right in his face whenever he came home. He swam to the kitchen, nope. To her chamber, nope. To his chamber, nope. He searched the whole cave, and found nothing. The he heard a familiar voice calling his name and he hurried to the entrance. “Cyn?” He asked, he tilted his head, “Where’s Mimi?”

Cyn grasped his forearms, she looked terribly distraught, “Oh, John! They just came out of nowhere, we were having lunch and they just-”

“Who’s they!?” John was getting upset too, where was his auntin?

Stu appeared behind her and it was then that John noticed that a crowd of curious sea creatures was forming around them. Stu said, “The police came, John. Took your auntin, said she was under arrest.” He looked forlorn.

John’s breath caught, then it began to speed up. Soon his gills were shaking and his chest was rapidly moving up and down. “How, how did this happen? She’s never done anything!” He could see that the people around him were starting to feel the effects of his panic, their own breathing erratic. But he could hardly concentrate on that now.

Stu and Cyn were quick to grab him and move him to the inside of his home. “John,” Cyn was saying, “You’ve to calm down.”

John just shook his head, he hated police. They always got in the way of his fun, hurt his friends, and now they had arrested his auntin!? The woman was practically a saint, she never broke a law in her life!

Stu’s voice interrupted his thoughts, “You gotta go to the headquarters and talk to them, see if you can pay her bail. It was probably a rumour or some shit like that, my Athair was arrested over that and he’s all good now, isn’t he?”

Cyn didn’t mention that the guards had been unfamiliar, unlike the usual ones from the headquarters that everyone knew. They had also worn different uniforms, and had been more aggressive. But for all she knew they had just gotten new uniforms, or something harmless like that that John didn’t have to worry about.

Paul sighed to himself as he stood outside his brother’s room. “Mikey?” He asked as he knocked, “I really want to talk to you.” Michael had been ignoring him for days now, and Paul could hardly blame him. The older one had been horrible, scaring his little brother. While he was with John all those thoughts flew away, but he couldn’t ignore them while at home. His dad had noticed something was off between the two brothers, but being busy with work was unable to address the topic. So it was up to Paul.

“I am really sorry, Mike.” He said, “I don’t know what came over me and I know I keep saying this but it's the truth.” He knocked again. “John said he’d help-” He broke off at the sound of something heavy hitting the door, probably a book or a shoe. “Mike?” At least he’d gotten a reaction. He knocked rapidly, “Michael, please. I’m trying to fix this.”

There was silence, then the door was unlocked.

Paul smiled and opened the door, “Mike?”

His brother was sitting in his bed, glaring at him.

Paul’s smile fell as he sat down next to him, but he was relieved that his brother didn’t push him away. “Mike, I know I sound like a broken record but I am sorry.”

His brother nodded, expressionless. “You do know he’s causing this, right?”

Paul frowned, “Who?”

Mike scoffed, “Your John. He’s the one making you act like this.”

It was Paul’s turn to scoff, “Of course not, Michael. Why would you say that?”

His brother rolled his eyes, “Because you only get like that whenever I insult him or whatever, you get protective and horrible. That creature made you like that.”

Paul scowled, “Now, Mike, I know you don’t like him-”

Mike stood, “For god’s sakes, Paul! It’s not that! It’s just that it’s obvious.”

Paul stood up as well, “John wouldn’t do that.”

Mike stepped forwards, “How would you know? You know all their stories, sirens are manipulative, cruel-”

“First of all, John’s not a siren. He’s just a regular Merrow.” Paul was trying to control his temper, “And second, I trust him.”

Mike glared, “Why trust him over me? Your brother?”

Paul sighed, “It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just that you barely know him, Mike.”

His brother sat down again, “And I don’t wanna know him,” He huffed, “I don’t get why he got so upset when I touched him, it’s just a body part.”

Paul glared, “A very sensitive body part, Michael. Private.”

Mike chuckled, “And I bet he lets you all over it.”

Paul didn’t answer and his brother laughed. “He does, doesn’t he? That’s why you like him, you like his tail.”

“Of course not!” Paul shouted, “That’s the least of it, but yes it’s a sign of trust, that’s why I trust him.”

Michael just shook his head, “Fuck, you’re hopeless, Paul. That thing’s got you good.”

Paul knew that if he stayed he would lose it again, so he just turned around and slammed the door as he left.

His little brother was left with an angry, worried mind.

“What do you mean, I can’t see her!?” John shouted at the poor merman behind the counter.

“I, I’m sorry, gentlemerrow. The royal guards have prohibited.” The attendant tried to explain, there was something extremely powerful about the angry being before him.

John heard Cyn and Stu gasp behind him, “Royal guards? From Atlantis?” He frowned, “What were the charges?”

The attendant cowered, “It’s really not my place to say-”

John leaned forwards, his teeth barred and his pupils looking like slits. “What. Were. The. Charges?” He pronounced in a quiet, dangerous voice.

Stu and Cyn winced, as this everyone else in the vicinity. This was a rare John, he was angry and actually meant it. John was afraid of anger in others, but he himself had quite the tempers. And both his bark and his bite were very sharp.

The merman behind the counter shivered, he grabbed a file that was at the top of a pile and opened its stone flaps. He cleared his throat, “The Merrow known as Mahry Elishabet Smeed was arrested by the Royal Guard of Atlantis with direct orders from the Royal Palace on charges of…” The man frowned and then gaped up at John.

John sneered at him, “What charges?”

The other’s head tilted, “What did you say was your relation to the prisoner?”

As his friends frowned, John’s glare deepened, “She’s my auntin, and don’t you dare call her a prisoner!”

The attendant’s gape became wider.

John grabbed him by the forearms, ignoring his friends’ protests, “What are the fucking charges?”

The other just looked at him in awe, but then finally spoke. “She was arrested for harboring a siren in her home.”

Paul had returned to the beach, guitar in hand. It was nighttime but he didn’t mind if he couldn’t see John, he just needed space.

He stared at the stars above him, they were beautiful. Almost as beautiful as John. You couldn’t see the stars from the city, too smokey, but here in his beach, he could see it all.

He sighed, could Mike be right? Was John controlling his feelings? It made little sense, John had been surprised by his outburst too.

He grabbed his guitar and began to pluck a gentle melody he and George had been working on. They had wanted to be in a band, but two was hardly enough. And neither of them could play drums.

Suddenly the water splashed, “PAUL!” A familiar voice screeched.

“John!?” Paul tossed his guitar aside and jumped up. He spotted his merman a bit further away, seemingly unable to get out of the water.

“Paul! Help me!” John screamed, his voice panicked.

Paul ran into the water, seeing John barely able to move. His lover stretched out his arms, crying for help. Paul finally reached him, slipping along the way. He grabbed the wet arms and pulled. John launched himself at him, holding him with all his strength and that’s when Paul saw what was holding him down, were those eels?? They were wrapped all over John’s tail and lower torso, and they appeared to be electrocuting him. Paul pulled harder.

John was sobbing, frantically flipping his tail hoping that the eels would be thrown away but they held on strongly. At least they were getting closer to the beach.

Paul kicking at the creatures as well, ignoring the fact that they could hurt him. His only concern was John. Finally, they got to the surface and Paul dragged his lover far away from the water.

The eels screeched and let go but Paul kept dragging the heavy weight of John until he tripped over a rock and the two of them fell down.

In no time John was hugging him, shaking and sobbing. Paul was confused but put his arms around the merman and whispered assurances in his ear.

“Johnny, what’s wrong?” Paul asked. Then he noticed that his lover was shivering, so he started to rub his arms with his pals. But he was even more worried, the cold temperature had never affected John before.

But before the human could comment on it, something even more strange started to happen.

John’s tail was looking burnt and bloody before, but now it appeared to be almost melting in a way. The scales were falling away, some of them just disappearing, his fins falling away as well.

Paul looked away only to find a distraught but quiet John looking back at him. The human frowned, “John, what’s going on?”

The other just shook his head and looked down, “I am sorry, Paul.” He choked, “I didn’t know.”

Paul’s answer was interrupted by the sight he witnessed as he looked briefly back at the tail. He was speechless. For the silver-blue tail was gone, and its place were two pale, very much human, legs.

#beatles #mclennon #my fic #fanfic #the beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney

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tozierbraks · 7 years

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just like heaven ch. 2

Richie deals with his new information, Bill deals with his future.

on ao3

Richie’s felt damp spots on his shoulder. He tightened his arms around a shaking Bill, pulling his face deeper into his own neck. With one arm pinned under his side Bill moved the other behind Richie’s back, grasping onto his t-shirt tightly. When Richie looked down to Bill’s face he saw the thin, gaunt face of Bill at thirteen. They were surrounded by the pale blue walls of Bill’s bedroom, still scattered with posters of childhood heroes. A wracking sob shook Bill beside him.

“I-ih-it’s m-mu-my fault R-Richie. M-my -” “It’s nobody’s fucking fault, Bill. Definitely not yours.” His voice came out high, a relic of adolescence. The room around Richie was fuzzy with soft lines, somewhere between a dream and a memory. “I f-fuck-fucking miss him.” Richie brought his hand up to tangle in Bill’s hair and just held him there against his own chest, grounding him. “Of course you do Bill, that’s your fucking brother.” This brought a fresh round of sobs, “I’m s-s-sorry.” Bill choked. “Jesus, Bill, don’t do that.” Richie buried his face into the top of Bill’s hair as the room around them faded. The walls became a deeper, navy blue and the posters became scattered with cult horror movie titles. When Richie looked down again he saw Bill as he was now at eighteen, his jaw broadened and his face full and bright. There were still tears clinging to his eyelashes when he looked up at Richie. This time Richie pushed Bill gently onto his back and leaned over him. He ran his thumb over Bill’s cheek, streaking a tear across it. He lowered himself slowly and pressed a gentle kiss to Bill’s forehead before moving to both of his eyelids, his cheeks, his nose. Pulling back he felt Bill grasping at his shirt and keeping him close. Richie kept his eyes closed and felt the anticipation run up his spine, trembling slightly when he finally felt Bill’s lips press against his own. The arm holding himself up buckled and he let his chest fall against Bill’s as they moved together. Bill’s arms came up to wrap around Richie’s waist and he rolled them back on their sides, maintaining the maddeningly slow kiss. Suddenly the air was filled with the unmistakable smell of Bill, his sharp shampoo and mint body wash making Richie’s head spin. He groaned a little and Bill kissed him harder. His hand ran down Bill’s side, stopping to grab his hip. Richie breathed a sharp inhale when Bill’s knee moved between his legs, his thigh moving to press against him. His fingers tightened on Bill’s hip and he began to grind down, biting gently on Bill’s lip as he moaned quietly. His hand moved to dip under Bill’s waistband and then - He was blinking bright sunlight out of his eyes. He lifted his face from where it was buried in Bill’s pillow and rolled his eyes, that would explain the smell. Well, that and the fact that Bill was only inches in front of him, his thigh actually pressing against Richie’s right above his knee. Surveying the room Richie found that Stan and Ben had already left their spots on Bill’s floor while Bev, Mike, and Eddie lay sprawled under piles of blankets. Eddie’s mouth was hanging open and Richie looked around for something to throw but came up short. He fell back against the pillow with a loud sigh, glaring at Bill’s sleeping face. His cute, stupid, handsome, dumb sleeping face. Richie flipped onto his back and groaned loudly, kicking his legs against the mattress rapidly. “Wh-what the fuck, Richie.” Bill gumbled without opening his eyes. He lifted an arm to shove him away but Richie caught his wrist and licked a thick stripe over his palm. Bill’s eyes shot open and he tried to wrench his arm away, managing to drag his hand down Richie’s cheek. “No wai-” was all Richie could squeak out before Bill was moving to his knees, pinning one of Richie’s thighs between them. Shit. The next thing he saw was Bill’s dark pillowcase as it was swung towards his face. He barely got an arm between them before he was being pelted with blows. But Richie barely felt them, all of his attention laser focused on the weight of Bill’s leg pressing down on the mattress between his own. He tried to wiggle himself higher on the bed, desperate to put some space between Bill and his stubborn erection. “Okay, okay, I surrender!” He yelled in his best British general impression. Bill gave one last smack before rolling over and wrapping himself back in the blanket. Several moments of quiet and then: “Eddieeeee.” Richie whined. No answer. “Edssss.” Silence. “Eddieeeeeee.” “What the fuck do you want?” “Smells like pancakes downstairs.” “And?” “Get me some.” Eddie just pulled his blanket over his head and pressed his hands tightly to his ears. Pouting, Richie resigned himself to laying in silence while tapping his fingers against his stomach. Mike stood, stretched, and waved to him as he headed downstairs. He flipped himself onto his side and watched the soft rise and fall of Bill’s back. The sunlight from the window behind them highlighted the auburn streaks in his brown hair and Richie itched to bury his face in Bill’s neck and wrap an arm around his waist. God, that’s so gay. He grinned to himself but he moved an inch closer, his body arched around Bill’s from a half-foot away. The next time he woke up he was alone. He let his limbs stretch out over the bed before turning his head to look at the family photo on Bill’s bedside table. “G’morning, Georgie.” he mumbled. Downstairs he was greeted by the bright, sterile Denbrough living room. The house was clean and comfortable. Technically it was everything a home should be. Still, Richie shivered when he looked at the empty couch, remembering the countless times he had walked in to Bill sitting there alone. Even at thirteen years old Bill would set the TV to the boring evening news nearly every night but his parents almost never took the bait. Instead Richie would fill the space beside him. Some of his favorite voices had been honed there, weird news stories gave plenty of inspiration with their cast of characters. Anything to make Bill laugh. It had been ten days since Stan’s confession. Ten days for Richie to simmer with thoughts of Stan and Bill sneaking kisses, holding hands, exchanging dramatic declarations of love that Richie was definitely not probably exaggerating. That wasn’t really the part that hurt, though. At sixteen Richie had been blissfully happy himself, he didn’t need sixteen year old Bill. He needed this one. But the more he looked the more he noticed Bill’s averted eyes when Mike wrapped his arms around Stan. The more he listened the more he heard the stutter grow intense when Stan fell easily into Mike’s lap. When he had confronted Bev about this news she had been clueless. “I had no idea about the Stan thing. But he was the first person I told that I thought I was bi… and he said he thought he was too. Never told me about Stan. Wow. Isn’t this good news, though? You actually have a shot.” Richie hadn’t been able to tell her that he was sure he didn’t. Now ten days later Richie felt his heart sink deeper into his ass every time he caught Bill’s aching, deflected looks. This morning was no exception as he found Bill pointedly staring at him in an obvious attempt to ignore Stan and Mike leaning into each other at the kitchen table. He didn’t have time to dwell though. Bev cleared her throat loudly and shot Ben a look, eyebrows raised. He blinked but nodded, pushing back from the table and collecting the empty plates before addressing Bill. “Bill, we still going on the UMaine tour today?” Bill jumped a little as he snapped out of his head. “Y-yeah, let me just g-gu-grab my stuff. Um, Richie will you c-c-come help? “Uhh, I guess?” He followed Bill up the stairs and watched him shuffle with papers on his desk. Bill grabbed his wallet but promptly dropped it when he turned back to face Richie. “Sh-shit. H-hey Rich, uh are you b-bu-busy t-tonight?” Richie turned from where he was absentmindedly thumbing through Bill’s records. “Hm? Tonight?” Shit shit shit, don’t fuck it up Tozier. Tomorrow was Bill’s birthday but his parents were gone tonight which meant tonight was his surprise party, spearheaded mostly by Bev. If Richie ruined it now she might actually have his head on a stick. “Nope, nothing going on tonight.” “W-wou-wou, will y-you meet me at the qu-quarry then?” Fuck fuck fuck. Richie ran his hand through his hair. “I’ll do ya one better, I’ll pick you up from Haystack’s when you get back. We’ll go together.” Bill nodded, ducking his head and hurrying past Richie to meet Ben at the front door. Weird. Richie sauntered back down the stairs to see Bev already dishing out party prep jobs. “Stan and Mike, you’re on cake and snacks duty. I’m securing the booze. Eddie and Richie: decorations.” Richie slid his eyes to meet Eddie’s and they tried to stifle their laughter. Decorating was not really their forte. A disastrous attempt to spice up Eddie’s bedroom decor last year had nearly landed him his second broken arm. “Heads up, Bev. Bill tried to make plans for tonight. Wanted me to meet him at the quarry. Don’t worry, my quick wit saved us all and I’m picking him up at Ben’s. I’ll just bring him back here.” She hummed an acknowledgement and waved him towards the box of streamers she had brought in from her car. Then she was disappearing, Mike and Stan on her heels. Eddie approached the box and grabbed a strand of blue streamers, unrolling the end. He looked at Richie dubiously. “So…just, anywhere?” This sent them back into a fit of giggles. They set about finding scissors and tape and settled into a comfortable quiet, each wrapped up in their own work until Eddie called from the next room. “Hey Rich, come lift me up so I can put some in this door.” “Coming, dear.” His hands wrapped around Eddie’s waist and hoisted him long enough for Eddie to place streamers in each of the corners. Satisfied with his work, Eddie followed Richie back into the living room. His jaw dropped. “Richie what the fuck?!” On the wall across from them the streamers had been crudely cut and taped in the shape of an enormous penis, complete with ribbons of cum. Richie beamed. Eddie tried to scowl but Richie looked so proud he had to laugh. “I think you have to take it down though, it’s not just us tonight.” Richie was scandalized. “Excuse me but that dick is staying put. It’s art. My greatest achievement. My magnum opus if you will.” “Fine, Bev can make the call, I’m not your wrangler today. Want a sandwich?” “Definitely, but no -” “No mayo. I know, Rich.” Eddie waved dismissively and walked into the kitchen. The only thing left in the box of decorations was a giant banner, large gold letters strung together to spell HAPPY BIRTHDAY. With a glint in his eye Richie snagged it and untied the knot keeping the letters on the string. Unfortunately there wasn’t a lot of material here, he found no especially intriguing ways to rearrange them. He settled for an absurd DAY HAPPY BIRTH and taped it above the wide entry to the kitchen. He was whistling Happy Birthday as he plopped on the couch to wait for Eddie. His eyes skimmed the photos lined up precisely on the walls. Bill and Georgie looking boastful while holding up freshly caught fish, Mr. Denbrough holding both boys on his shoulders, all four family members posed perfectly in a studio. Not a single picture was less than five years old, Bill never getting older than thirteen in any of them. Richie found himself searching for Bill in a room full of him. He desperately wanted to sense Bill’s warm energy but came up short. Here, in this house, Bill was frozen. A cold ceramic plate fell on his lap quickly followed by Eddie’s outstretched legs as he fell on the couch beside him. “Shit, Eds, you’re like a ninja. So quiet, so nimble…so flexible.” “Is that even like, a thing ninjas are known for?” “Dunno. But it’s what you’re known for.” He winked and tore a bite out of his sandwich. Eddie ignored him but spoke up again. “So, Bill invited you to the quarry tonight?” “Mm-hmmph.” Crumbs threatened to spill onto Eddie’s calves where they still rested over Richie’s thighs. “Don’t you think that’s weird? Like, since when does he ask any of us in private like that?” Eddie’s voice was unsteady, tilting higher than natural at the end of his question. Richie eyed him warily. He spoke around the food in his mouth. “Jealous, Eds? I dunno, maybe he was just gonna ask everyone later?” “…Richie, uh, do you…what do you think of…would you…” Eddie sputtered. He took a deep breath and let out a dramatic sigh. “Just, you should reschedule.I know you obviously can’t actually go tonight, but don’t blow him off.” Richie just stared, completely perplexed. Finally, he held up three fingers close to Eddie’s face. “Eddie, how many fingers am I holding up? I’m pretty sure if you can tell me you’re not having a stroke. Otherwise I can’t be sure.” “Shut up, Rich.” Now Richie’s mind was racing. How many countless times had they hung out at the quarry? This was literally not a big deal. Was Eddie really jealous? He nearly laughed aloud at the thought. The Losers were quickly becoming the cast of a soap opera. Richie and Eddie both pining after Bill who was lovesick for Stan who is happily committed. Then there was whatever Bev and Ben were playing at, all very ‘will they, won’t they.’Tune in next week for the thrilling season finale. So far Richie had avoided talking to Eddie about Bill at all. Eddie was pretty shitty about keeping secrets in general but from Bill? Forget about it. Besides, even though they were in a really good place now he wouldn’t especially want to listen to Eddie wax poetic about some other guy; He figured he should extend the same courtesy. Still, if he was being honest with himself none of these were really his reason to avoid the topic. Chances were that if Bill really was head over heels for Stan then Eddie would know. If Richie didn’t ask then Eddie couldn’t tell. Suddenly a loud bang made both of them jump, Eddie pulled his legs off of Richie and folded them underneath himself. They looked up to see Bev, arms full of paper bags and leg still extended from kicking the door open. Eddie jumped up to help her which was lucky because when her eyes settled on the giant dick she nearly dropped the bags. They landed neatly in Eddie’s arms while Bev took it all in. Both boys waited with baited breath until…she burst out laughing. Richie would never admit it but some tension dropped from his shoulders. The three of them here together laughing at Richie’s stupid joke almost made things feel normal, almost like Richie’s world wasn’t falling apart.

This feeling persisted as Richie drove through Derry, wind whipping his hair as he hummed to the radio. It collapsed as he pulled up to Ben’s house and saw Bill waiting outside for him, his hands shoved deep into his pockets and his face pointed to the ground. Richie felt his heart in his throat as Bill approached the car and swung the door open, hopping into the passenger seat. Richie opened his mouth to speak but when he saw Bill’s tense shoulders and downcast eyes he chose to keep quiet. Instead, he cranked the radio up and began to sing, loud and offkey. He felt relief when he saw Bill slump against the seat and smile softly, eventually quietly adding his voice to Richie’s. His hand lay between them, splayed upwards, inviting. Richie’s hand twitched on the wheel. He kept it grasped tightly as he turned left, away from the quarry. “R-Rich, I thou-” “I know, Big Bill, I just left my sweatshirt at your place, figured I would just grab it now so I don’t have to go back later.” Smooth. Bill only nodded, turning to look out the window. Richie turned the music back up and elbowed Bill in the side, giving him a cocky grin. Bill tried to keep his face pulled into a frown but the corners of his mouth twitched up as he watched Richie from the corner of his eye. When their eyes met the ice melted from his demeanor, his smile beaming as he began belting along with the music. The house watch pitch black and silent as Richie pulled Bill in, dragging him by the hand after Bill protested that Richie really didn’t need his help to grab a sweatshirt. “Can you just…be cool, for like, once? Follow me.” Richie led them through the house towards the backyard where the Losers were hidden. Oh fuck, he was supposed to warn them so Bev could light the candles. Panicking, Richie stopped in his tracks, Bill letting out a hmph when he collided with his back. Richie spun and pressed Bill against the kitchen wall, holding him there with a hand dug into his chest. Bill’s eyes widened and he looked down to where they were pressed together, his hand coming up to grip Richie’s wrist. “Richie wh-what the f-fu-fuck is g-going on?” His voice was breathy, probably from getting slammed into the wall. Wordlessly Richie reached down, removed his shoe, and chucked it against the sliding glass door to their left. “S-seriously…-” Bill protested, pressing against Richie’s hand but when Richie only pushed harder he relaxed against the wall, his knees buckling. Richie held a finger up to Bill’s lips to shush him while he frantically counted to sixty in his head, a minute should be enough time, right? But then Bill’s lips parted slightly against his finger and he lost track, 32…32… It would be so easy to just press down and drag Bill’s lips apart, 37…39…45? There was barely a foot between them, Richie could so easily lean down and, 52…53…okay fuck it, 60. He pulled his eyes up, only now aware of how hard he had been staring at Bill’s mouth. He dropped his arm and made a grand, flourishing gesture directing Bill to the backyard. Bill’s face was flushed with annoyance and he took a second to glare at Richie, his confusion peaking. Finally, he lifted himself from the wall and walked to the door. Richie followed and heard the loud chorus of “Happy Birthday!” as Bill slid open the door, their friends bursting out from behind a picnic table in the far corner of the yard. Bev held a huge glowing cake and the rest were ready with armfuls of pizza, potato chips, and liquor. They sat together, all seven squeezed between the two benches. The air around them was thick and sweet and their babbling voices echoed against the tall fence surrounding the Denbrough yard. Bev had invited some casual friends from school but made sure to stagger their arrival. Right now was just for them, safe and comfortable together in their private universe. As they rounded on eight o clock the sun was nearly finished setting and Mike stood to light the torches dotted around the yard. They heard the first knocks on the door and all stood, trampling back into the living room. Stan turned the lights on for the first time since this afternoon and Bill chuckled appreciatively at the streamers hanging around the doorways and ceilings until his eyes landed on…it. “Oh m-my god, T-Tozier.” He immediately rounded on Richie who turned and ran down the hall as fast as he could away from Bill’s attempted tackle. An hour later the living room was alive with boisterous conversation. A cassette played a soft rock mix Richie had provided and intended to leave as Bill’s gift. All together there were about twenty guests, plenty to fill up the first floor of the small house. Richie was nursing his second drink and watching as some girl draped herself across Mike’s lap, sniggering at Stan’s steaming face. Although their affection had been toned down in the presence of acquaintances Stan and Mike were still inseparable, trading teasing looks and touches they tried to pass off as casual. His eyes wandered to Bill and Eddie who had their heads bowed in a private conversation, Eddie’s eyebrows angled in concern as he spoke animatedly. Ben and Bev were in the middle of their typical game, keeping just slightly apart from each other. He knew that as soon as Bev finished her drink the cuddling would start, followed soon by the kissing. Richie was rooting in the fridge for some leftover pizza when a giggle from behind him pulled his attention. He turned in time to see Stan drag Mike in and press him in the corner, just out of view of the party. He pressed his entire body against Mike’s as they kissed, both of them high on their secret. It was then that Bill chose to walk in, looking to refill his drink. He absorbed the scene with a long, blank stare and said nothing, dumping some whiskey in his cup before stiffly marching out into the empty yard. Richie huffed at the pair still snuggled in the corner. He looked longingly into the bright living room where people were starting to dance. Then he looked out at the dark backyard, lit only by the flickering torches. He could ignore this, go and spin Eddie around a few times before snuggling into Ben’s shoulder on the couch. He could keep pretending like this would all go away. Or he could follow Bill outside like he knew he should. Be the shoulder to lean on that his best friend needed. Listen to the man he was in love with talk about how much he loved Richie’s oldest friend. He tipped the rest of his drink down his throat and tossed the cup on the counter. With one last glance towards all the fun he steeled himself and strutted out the door. He found Bill back at the picnic table, his chin planted in his hands. “Y’know, everyone in there is dancing.” “So are you asking?” Bill’s reply was flat but his eyes were earnest as he looked up at Richie. Richie extended his hand, counting on one of his voices to flow out; probably some gaudy southern gentleman. But nothing came. He stood silent, his arm reaching out to Bill, a slow, steady song drifting from the still open door. And then Bill’s hand was in his own and he was moving to his feet. His arms were wrapping around Richie’s waist and pulling him close until they were pressed against each other completely. Richie’s arms still hung dumbly by his sides. He stared behind Bill’s shoulder unable to think of anything except the heavy feeling of Bill’s chest against his own. When Bill’s face buried into the crook of his neck he reflexively wrapped his arms around his shoulders. They began to sway to a steady rhythm barely based on the faint music. Richie heard his thoughts trying to race but he shooed them away focusing all of his energy on memorizing the way Bill’s neck felt under his grip, the weight of Bill’s hands on his back. If everything was about to fall apart he would at least always have this. He let his eyes fall shut as the heady air swirled around them. Richie’s felt damp spots on his shoulder. He tightened his arms around a shaking Bill, pulling his face deeper into his own neck. Slowly, their swaying stopped and they stood frozen, Richie gripping Bill’s shoulders tightly. He scanned the yard but luckily found that they were still alone. When Bill slumped slightly against him Richie guided them back to to picnic table where they sat side by side, knees bumping. Here we go, game face, Rich. But he stayed silent. If this was going to happen there was no need to speed it along. He kept his eyes on Bill’s profile and waited through a few deep breaths. When Bill spoke his voice was still shaky. “I-I’m s-s-sorry.” Richie shook his head vigorously and nudged his shoulder against Bill’s. “Nope, we’ve been over this.” Bill nodded. He closed his eyes and inhaled, steadying himself. “Ben a-ah-and I went to UMaine today. It was…nice, I g-guess. It was f-fu-fine…” “But?” Richie interrupted. “But l-looking around it looked l-lu-like…here. It w-wu-was like walking around my own fucking b-b-bu-backyard. I met some of the c-creative writing professors and I swear they’re just c-carbon f-f-fu-fucking copies of the high school teachers.” His voice was shaking again. Richie’s mind was buzzing. Guilt crushed against his ribs. How long had Bill been worried about this? Richie should have noticed. Richie always noticed. But Richie was too busy thinking with his dick and moping about how Bill didn’t want to make out with him. Meanwhile Bill was having some big life crisis and…shit, Bill was looking at him now, waiting for him to say something. “Then why? I mean, why are you going?” It came out blunt, almost harsh. “I c-can’t lea-leave them al-l-one.” Richie’s brows quirked down in confusion. “Leave…who?” “My p-pu-parents.” “Are you fucking kidding me?! This is for them?” Anger bubbled up Richie’s throat. He thought of the empty couch, the ancient pictures on the walls. “You’re okay with being stuck here because of them? Fuck, they won’t even notice you’re sti-” He slapped his hand over his mouth. It didn’t matter. It was too late. Bill’s eyes narrowed and refilled with tears. He stood and Richie jumped up, his hands lifted defensively. “Wait, Bill, I’m s-” Bill shoved his shoulder hard against Richie’s as he disappeared back into the house.

#bichie #bill denbrough #richie tozier #it #richie is the ultimate dumbass it's unavoidable #aly writes

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