#ok turns out she was biting herself because she was itchy. back to crying

[celestiachan]

sometimes i think about the people who traumatized me in 2020 and i almost start crying because i cannot comprehend how evil you have to be to be a whole adult and not apologize when a child says that you made them feel suicidal

[urlocalbunny]

.overstimulation - aaron.

hehehehehe hi, my lovely babies. that’s my favorite so far, in my mind the scenario is so dreamy and perfect... oh god *sigh*

thank you all for reading my scenarios and for the happy birthday messages! the 25th never felt so nice! i’m late, but i hope you had a merry, merry xmas! also, bc you requested, I wrote on my bday so it was chill and pleasant. xoxo

1.395 words. enjoy!

Jogging with Aaron wasn't the worst thing ever after a few months. Eloise could keep up and even leave her vampire a little behind sometimes. She ran around and admired the flowers rather than plucking them (another thing Aaron made her get used to because he kept nagging at her for plucking them too much every day) or tried to make some bunny friends on the way back home. Her boyfriend would probably eat them anyway but, hey, how about trying?

Sometimes after the jogging, they'd both stop by a small river that created a little pond. The water was clear, and the couple would search for some rocks on the corners closer to them, then put a blanket down and stargaze for a little. One day, however, Eloise fell over, and the mud on her arms was itchy. Aaron set down the thick blanket, pulling out an apple for her, and started to cut it. Eloise kept moving.

"My beloved?" He called, a confused frown on his face. "Your apple is ready. I even cut bunny ears on them."

"I'm taking a bath before." She said, reaching for her shoes and untying them.

"Oh. Ok." He shrugged. "They'll be waiting when you're finished. I'll be watching you, but please be careful."

Eloise took off her pants and crouched closer to the water, washing off the mud on her arm. "I'm not hurt anywhere." Aaron murmured something that sounded like a "that's good, love," but she didn't pay much attention. She proceeded to pull off her shirt and put it with the rest of her clothes close to Aaron, who watched her quietly. Eloise knew nudity wasn't such a big subject on his head, and she was thankful for that because these moments where she felt more and more tuned in with her body came along, maybe because of her powers.

Eloise took off her bra and her panties, looking at Aaron.

"You're beautiful, love." He murmured, looking at her with a small smile gracing his pretty face.

"Beauty lays in the eyes of whoever sees it." She said with a little drama, making him snort. She made her way to the lake, shivering when her foot touched the chilly water.

"I think you've been taking Raph's recommendations to court me more too seriously."

Her laughter echoed around in a pleasant tone. Step by step, Eloise soon had her legs inside of the water. Aaron watched intently as her skin came in contact with the clear yet dark water, her hipbones, then her bellybutton, the underboobs, a little bit of her hair. For about half an hour, she swam elegantly underwater, stopping to breathe and collect some of the rocks from the floor. The moon was high in the sky.

"Eloise, come eat your apple. It's getting cold." He said when she popped her head out. She pouted but started to walk in his direction. Again, Aaron seemed mesmerized by her perky nipples, the way the droplets fell over her skin, and her hair cascading down her shoulders.

"Sit down and eat." She sat down close to him, but he stood up, pulling his shirt off. "I think I might dip a little too. You convinced me."

"What if you get sick?" She retorted, throwing an apple bunny into her mouth. He giggled at her pettiness.

"Are you serious?" She pouted.

"I wanted to be a big wolf too." She mumbled as he kicked his pants off and jumped in the water without many ceremonies.

"You are a big dummy already." Eloise cackled at that, biting at the other pieces and the remains of the ears he cut off.

"We're both dumb." His chuckle made her eyes crinkle with happiness. She folded their clothes and laid down, looking at the stars.

A few minutes passed, and the apple was gone. Eloise flinched, but it turned into a giggle when Aaron registered on her sight.

"Stop scaring me!" She smiled, running a hand through his wet hair. He smiled fondly.

"You're so, so beautiful." He repeated, leaning down to kiss her jaw. "I don't usually try to do anything just because you're naked, but god, you're so- so," he stops saying anything at all, latching his fangs on her neck. His naked flesh against hers felt cold, but the bite spread a blazing heat through her body. Aaron groaned softly, nestling himself between her legs and pulling her in his direction.

"I love you," Eloise whispered, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm going to do it at once. Is this alright?" The kiss after his question tasted like Iron, but it was also sweet.

"I love you more."

There was always a sting in taking Aaron, but the pleasure took over. He knew exactly how to work his hips to have her head spinning yet as still as ever. Slowly but surely, he set a pace.

"Don't hold back." He pulled her bottom lip from her teeth, watching her moan his name and cry out, shooting her arms forward to yank his head to her and give him another kiss.

"Are you already close?" His giggle made Eloise try to hide her face. "You're gripping so good."

Eloise put both hands on her eyes, legs closing around his hips. He picked up the pace, moaning an octave higher a few times and throwing his head back.

"Hmmm, too much." She pushed him off, but her legs still held him in place.

"You have a safeword. Do you not remember it?" She nodded, and he slowed down to wait, but no other words besides moaning came out of her. He picked up the pace, looking for discomfort on her face. She was moaning shamelessly now, two hands grabbing her breasts with bruising strength and pinching herself. Letting his weight fall on his knees, he put the pile of clothes under her tailbone and rubbed her clit roughly. Eloise keened, legs now being supported by his shoulders. The snapping sound echoed around, followed by his moaning and the occasional growl.

"I can't- ugh." She said, arching her back as much as she could before her legs started to shake, yet Aaron didn't stop. He was so close to his end, and she liked the overstimulation.

She was sobbing already, shaking her legs around and pushing him off.

"Do you need to use your safeword?" She shook her head no, giving Aaron the cue to keep rubbing on her button and edge her for a few minutes. "Wait for me."

"I can't!" She sobbed, grinding her hips with his. "Please just-" he pulled his hand off, tasting her on the tips of his fingers. Eloise reached out and clawed on his chest, falling back right after because he was too big for her to reach. He hissed approvingly at the bruises on his skin, leaning down to be within reach and pushing his hips to grind on her clit instead. Her nails ran through his back, and her teeth bit his neck.

"Fuck, love!" The exclaimed growl reached her ears, but she didn't even know who was moaning for a while. Her walls throbbed, coaxing him into her deeper then pushing him off, but he forced his way in just how she liked it. Aaron's loud calls for her warned her of the warm spurts she felt not too long after, all over her skin. Her chest, face, maybe even hair, but she collected the most with her tongue, swallowing it as if in a trance. Aaron's knees were trembling around her torso, and his eyes were still hazy.

"Are you ok?" When she nodded, his eyes darted everywhere on her face, then he sheepishly apologized and took her back to the water, washing her hair and face, tending to her sore muscles, and kissing the purple blotches on her neck tenderly.

"They'll be gone tomorrow, I promise." He said, laying on her stomach, now watching the moon on top of the sky.

"It's ok. I like it. Just wish I lasted more."

Just as she gave a parting sigh, missing this moment already, something hot attached to her core, making her keen and shake her legs. Aaron looked at her from below, a "pop" sound making her suck in a breath as he let go of her abused clit.

"Let's keep going, then. We have all night."

[chick-from-nz]

Paper, Scissors, Rank (Ch: 6)

CHARACTER/PAIRING: Modern!Carrillo x Army!OC (eventually) 

WARNINGS: maybe some swearing, military slang, more military talk,  spelling and grammatical errors. Flippy floppy points of view and tenses. Could be very OOC/AU for some. Carrillo may not be narcos accurate as this is an AU. Some OC x OC 

AUTHORS NOTE: not too much happening this chapter, again a big thank you to @1zashreena1 for helping me with my ideas for this chapter. finally a first name for the OC, and Sinclair being a dick. hope yall enjoy

WORD COUNT: 3.1K

CHAPTER: 6 OF ?

TAG LIST(OPEN): @girlpornparadise @1zashreena1 @xxidontwikeitxx @nicke0115 @allalngthewtchtower @lettherebrelight

Greyson woke with a gasp, her head was pounding like she’d been on a week long bender, and her jaw ached beyond measure. She went to sit up only to fall back clutching her side in pain, Ugh what the fuck.  Shaking away the blurry vision that came with waking up, she allowed her eyes to adjust to her surroundings. She took in the clinically white walls and curtains, the bed that looked too medical to be her own and finally her eyes landed on the tubes in her arms. Why the fuck am I in the hospital!. A fresh wave of panic shot through the cadet as she went to climb out of the bed and find someone to explain to her what the hell she was doing here. But as she went to sit up again a pair of large, strong hands softly pinned her back in place. She swung to her right ready to give the person a piece of her mind, only to make eye contact with a pair of tired looking deep brown eyes. What’s Colonel Carrillo doing here?

“Don’t move Second Lt Greyson, you’re not in good shape” He offered softly. “I’ll go grab the medic in charge. Stay put” the last bit was said as more of a light order. He knew from her grimace when she woke that she was in more pain than she let on. He’d seen a similar look on his own face one to many times. He patted her gently on the shoulder, as to not aggravate her injuries any further, and turned to walk out the door and alert the medics, only to be stopped by a smaller, softer hand grabbing his own.

“Sir, what do you mean Second Lieutenant? I haven’t graduated yet!” Anger, always her go to emotion, bled through the initial confusion in her tone. There was no way she had graduated, she would remember that surely. She dared a glance at his face but first noted the way she was gripping his hand with such force she was probably hurting him. She dropped his hand like he was made of fire. Eyes dragged over his torso slowly, his shoulders were slumped, his posture nothing like the Colonel she was used to seeing, if only briefly. What the fuck has gotten into him?. “Sir, is something wrong?” her tone was soft enough to shock herself, was she subconsciously trying to comfort him, she shook that thought off, now is not the time for that you idiot.

Carrillo sighed, running a hand over his face like he was trying to wash away the hours a day he had spent reading over files while keeping a watch over her. He knew that when she came to, she would waffle off questions a mile a minute, without much of a care from her injuries. He had read over any report that contained highly detailed information about her. He had sat down with each cadet and discussed what she was like in training before he arrived. Most of the cadets enjoyed her company, looked up to her and envied her unparalleled skills. Yes some of the females were jealous of how she seemed to fit in with some of the boys and how many of the male instructors paid attention to her, but none displayed the attitude or mental instability  to want to physically hurt the cadet who laid awake in the hospital bed before him.

One way or another he knew the truth would come out, he could only hope that she would not try and seek vengeance when they finally found the culprit, or maybe it would help her , he mused.  “You’ve been laid up in bed for just over a week Greyson, whoever did this to you knew what they were doing and hit you hard. I’ll let the medics cover most of it but, you're a permanent member of my team now, your position in the army is safe. Congratulations for graduating” The last bit was added as a kind of after statement and accompanied with a shrug. He didn't really know what to say to the young officer before him. The attack on her had put the base, and his team who were currently scattered on deployments, into high alert. He didn’t know how to explain it but the sinking feeling at losing a team member, one as talented as she was, so soon had cut him deeper than he’d ever admit. Strange for only having known Greyson for no longer than a few weeks.

Greyson lay there stunned while watching him leave the room. Out for over a week, everyone has graduated, and she’s a permanent member of his team?. Who knew so much could happen while being unconscious for a week. Her side was itchy, too itchy. Lifting the blankets that covered her body and taking in a relatively large white bandage on her side has her eyes growing wide. The fuck happened to me.  Obviously her injuries were worse than the Colonel let on. He had said she’d been targeted, so whoever had done this had motive. The only motive against her she could think of was her tarnished last name because of her father. Of course that prick's mistakes would come round to bite me in the ass. Greyson laughed and regretted it instantly. The pain that radiated from her left side was some of the worst she’d felt since breaking three of her ribs in a kickboxing tournament, actually, now that she thought about it, the pain was the same. It wouldn’t surprise her if she had broken those same ribs again.

Turns out, she was, in fact, correct. The medics had entered the room a short while after the Colonel had left and detailed her injuries. Four broken ribs, a split eyebrow, forehead split from the opposite eyebrow to the scalp, a concussion that she would be nursing for another week or so, a broken nose that would soon be healed and last but not least, an inch deep stab wound to her left side that went from just above her hip to just below her ribs. Whoever had done this really did a number on her, that was for sure. The list of injuries sure came as a shock to the soldier, it was clear that the person who committed this crime was out for blood, and it was almost as though they had sought to kill her but had been spooked by someone entering the gym. She definitely had to see Calliope and thank him for saving her life, and thank Carrillo for saving her damn career.

It was around an hour or so later that her door opened again, presuming it was just the Colonel coming to check to make sure she hadn’t carked it since he last left the room, she didn’t bother to open her eyes or lift her head from the position of comfortable rest she was in. A mistake on her behalf, she tensed when a hand grabbed her own and began rubbing small circles on her palm. There was no way this was the Colonel. The hands were arguably smaller and not as calloused as the aforementioned mans were. Not that I paid attention to that, she told herself. Or more accurately, lied to herself. It was practically the only thing she had focused on when she had reached out to grab a hold of him. She could not shake the feeling of those strong, calloused and oh so large and warm hands travelling across other parts of her body. Ok seriously, not the way to think of him, even if he is a god of a man.  

Daring to open an eye just enough to get a glimpse of the person in her room, she nearly clambered from the bed in shock, although it really should not have come as a surprise to her that the Lt. Colonel had found his way into her room. She observed the fact that he looked shattered. Big dark circles under his eyes, slumped posture, and eyes that made him look less like the jovial forever joking around man and more like the man who carried the rank of Lt. Colonel. She heard what sounded like a sniffle come from the man, is he really crying right now?

Sinclair was indeed crying. He felt partially responsible for what had happened to the young officer in the bed before him. Maybe if he hadn’t have pushed her then she would have graduated with her pairs and be running round learning the ways of her new team. But no, here she was lying in a bed she had no place being, with an amount of stitches he didn’t even want to think about and probably hating his guts. Which he felt was probably the most accurate response she could have to this situation. Still, he had to try his luck. She had, after all, graduated and was now a serving officer.

“I’m fucking sorry, Ash. I should’ve gone after you and talked it out. I didn't want you to think badly about me because of it” He sniffed, voice cracked, but he continued on, “It's all my fault, i should never have put you in the position, I’m sorry” his voice tapered off at the end, broken slightly by his now croaky voice as the tears began to come full force, emotion over taking him more than he thought possible. He genuinely liked this girl, despite going about it the wrong way, he felt deeply for her and would continue to even if she rejected him, although this time he would cut his losses and attempt to move on. He jumped briefly when he felt her hand close in around his, he didn’t know she was awake. Now he felt stupid for crying.

“Sir, it’s not your fault, I don’t blame you for what happened. If anything, it’s my own fault for continuing to feel something for you even when I knew nothing could ever come of it. And for that I’m sorry” she stopped to gather herself, taking a deep breath before continuing, “But I do think it’s best that we stop whatever this could have been before it even begins. It will not look good for either of us, no matter how much we both might want it, I’m sorry Sir”  Ash cleared her throat before looking up at the man who was still rubbing soothing circles on her hand, his grip had tightened slightly when she said they shouldn’t continue, but he looked somewhat, relieved? And then he was laughing, a full bellied laugh that confused Ash to no end. She tilted her head at him, one eyebrow raised, and an expression that said Care to share what's so funny

“I knew it! I bloody knew it. Of course it wasn’t one sided, I knew you felt something for me” His tone was joyous, his smile was one akin to that of a cat that caught the canary. ��Why didn’t you tell me, all this confusion could have been fixed, we could be together, right now, happy. You could’ve been mine already”

A shudder of disgust ran through the young officer, one strong enough for her to yank her hand out of his and bring it closer to her chest, safely away from his grasp. If Ash wasn’t already denying the man before her an attempt at a relationship, then his final sentence would have thrown her over the line. She wasn’t anyone's to keep. Let alone this deranged Lt. Colonels. If anything there was only one person, or team rather, she belonged to. And that was not Sinclair, no matter how bad he wanted that. His expression turned from one of joy to anger in a very short minute, one that scared Ash, not that she let that emotion cross her face, lest he think he’s won.

Ash gulped, gathered some courage and was about to give the LT. Colonel a piece of her mind when the door to her room opened suddenly to reveal Colonel Carrillo. It took Ash a moment to register the look of controlled anger on the Colonels face before she realized it wasn’t directed at her, but the man to her right. He took a calculated step into the room, before closing the door with a deliberate force. There was no denying who was in charge right now, the raw power the colonel was displaying sent a pang of heat straight to Greyson’s gut. Fuck why is he so undeniably hot right now, common Sir, hit him . Ash snorted at her internal thoughts. God, she was a mess sometimes.

The glare Colonel Carrillo leveled Sinclair with would make any sane man start begging for forgiveness on the spot. Sinclair had proven one two many times his intentions with Greyson, and now, having heard from standing outside the room, that he was trying to claim her as his own and convince her that they should be together, it made him irate. Obviously his previous warning was not taken on board by the lieutenant. Worse still, he had felt an unusual pang in his chest when he had heard the second lieutenant confess that she felt something for the dishonorable man standing before him now. “If you don’t get the fuck out of this room within the next ten seconds I’ll put a bullet in your thick skull. Obviously threatening your rank wasn’t enough, so don’t fucking try me this time Sinclair, that's an order!”

Ash gulped at the tension forming between both men. Sinclair had stood from the chair he had resided in and was nearly toe to toe with the superior officer. There was anger rolling off him in waves, his shoulders were pulled back and he was puffing out his chest. Fucking typical males, Ash scoffed.  But from her vantage point she could see that Carrillo was entirely too calm about squaring off with the man before him. He stood just an inch shorter than Sinclair but was broader by far, and carried a strength that surpassed any the lieutenant could ever dream to possess. He was staring down his nose at him, smirking to egg the man on to make the first move. And in the moment Greyson had never seen a more attractive sight. It was thrilling to be this close to such a raw display of power and such a far less man thinking he had a chance to beat the formidable Colonel Carrillo.

If Ash was to recall the day further on in her career she would say it was Sinclair who threw the first punch and started the fight, despite clearly seeing Carrillo mutter something low enough for only the men to hear. Whatever it was had its desired effect. The right hook that was thrown clipped the edge of the Colonel’s jaw but barely phased him, one minute he was registering a small inkling of pain, the next he had the slightly younger officer pinned to the wall, forearm across his throat, and hand grasping his pistol, ready to pull it from its holster and follow through with his current threat. He began to pull said gun from its holster, only to be stopped by a smaller hand covering his own and a quiet but firm voice whispering against the shell of his ear, “Don’t Carrillo, he’s not worth the paperwork”.

It was like a bucket of cold water had been poured over him, what was he even doing?. Greyson was right, the useless excuse of an officer before him really wasn’t worth the paper work. He secured his pistol before ripping his arm off the man's throat, smirking at the way he was gasping for breath and beyond pale. Good  he thought, maybe this time the message has really been cemented in this idiots’ brain . He didn’t need to tell the man to leave, once he had gathered enough breath to move he was all but sprinting from the room, not even daring to glance back at the youngest officer in the room. Carrillo was startled from his thoughts when Ash punched him in the arm, before wincing and pulling her hand back. He glanced at her, a shocked expression on his face, awaiting her next move.

“What the fuck was that!?” she hissed out at him before taking in a deep breath to center herself, her vision was a little blurry but she attributed that to the fact she had practically leapt from the bed to stop the Colonel committing blue force murder. Even if she despised Sinclair and his actions, she honestly couldn’t believe she actually had feelings for a man like that, the idea sent a cold shiver down her back. Ash swayed on her feet, she was getting increasingly unsteady. Warm hands grabbed her by the elbows and guided her back to the bed, she was thankful for that, even if she was partially angry at the Colonel before her.

“Stop being difficult and stay in the damn bed soldier” His gruff voice made her shiver but she obeyed him nonetheless, likely due to the underlying order in his tone.  He seemed to think for a moment, contemplating the right words to say, before he shrugged and announced “The medics decided it would be best for you to be monitored for the next few weeks until you’re given a clean bill of health. So I offered my place, or rather the team's new headquarters. The rest of the team will arrive in a month or so off deployment, it's gonna be just us in the meantime” He ceased speaking for a moment as he made his way to the door, “I’ll go sign your discharge papers, we depart in twenty, chop chop Lieutenant” and without so much as another word, he disappeared out the door.  Ash was stunned, a seemingly normal occurrence while in his presence. A month in a house, alone with Colonel Carrillo, this could be both the best and worst thing to happen to her lately, but she couldn’t wait, this could be a wild ride, or a terrible nightmare.  Greyson hoped it was the former rather than the later.

[snortyport]

Trapped - JJK Chapter 5

Summary- A long walk through the woods has everyone on edge. Those sounds you keep hearing, are they animals or something more sinister? Will everyone make it to safety?

Rating- PG

Word Count- 2664

Pairing- Jungkook x reader

Warning- swearing, minor character death

A/N- Thank you to everyone reading this! I love you all!!

Previous | Masterlist | Next

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The walk to the cabin is long and exhausting. Jeannie started complaining after 10 minutes of walking and demanded a piggyback ride. She’s been taking turns on someone’s back since.

You’ve had to stop a bunch of times for Jamie to have a rest. He’s been getting dizzy after getting a little worked up from the walk. Each break has taken him about five minutes to get his head to stop spinning. It’s driving you crazy having to stop so many times but you’d rather he be ok then push him too hard and something worse happen to him.

Everyone is grumpy and snapping at each other over the littlest things. Kyle went against his usual chill personality and yelled at Graham for walking too close to him. Hayley yipped at Jeannie for pulling her hair while taking her turn giving a piggyback, which made Jeannie cry and avoid her. Jamie snapped at Tanner for “treating him like a baby” because he keeps fussing over him.

Everyone is tired and hungry and ready to be done with the day. Yourself included.

As much as the kids are driving you crazy with their bickering, there’s one thing that’s been bothering you more. You’ve been walking for hours now and no car has driven by. You’re sure someone would have had to come by. A nightshift nurse going home, or a part time worker done for the day. Someone should have driven by you by now.

You’re really getting nervous. If someone hasn’t come by yet, will anyone? The phones aren’t working and no ones driving home. How are you supposed to get help?

Maybe Old Man Busby has a phone I can use.  You hope with everything in you that another adult will come by so everything isn’t on your shoulders anymore. Every little thing that’s adding up is raising your shoulders higher towards your ears with tension. You’re going to need a massage and two, no three, bottles of wine once you get back home.

You’re not sure how much more you can take. You’re just one woman. One woman whose never had to deal with someone cheating on a test, let alone a bus crash and two dead people.

“Come on, guys! It’s not too much farther,” you say with as much fake cheeriness you can muster. Every single on of them groans as they stand back up from their break.

“How much longer?” Lilly asks, a hard edge to her tone.

“Well if it wasn’t for Jamie needing a break every five seconds we’d probably be there already,” Will angrily mutters, just loud enough for Jamie to hear.

Jamie hangs his head in embarrassment and starts walking slower to get to the back of the group. “I’m sorry, everyone. I don’t mean to be so slow.”

“Don’t listen to Will. It’s not your fault, Jamie,” Hayley says softly. “Will is just being a baby and throwing a tantrum like he always does.” The younger kids snicker and giggle behind their hands.

“No need to be a bitch,” Will says, making the younger kids gasp at his language, looking at Hayley.

“Watch your language, Will,” you scold him. He stares at you incredulously.

“What about her name calling?”

“Well, stop acting like a baby and she won’t have to call you names,” you tell him. And you’ll admit, telling him off makes you feel good. You’re definitely over the whole I-need-to-be-nice-because-I’m-his-teacher. Today has been too long and difficult and he’s getting on your last nerve with all his sarcastic quips and negativity.

Hayley looks over her shoulder and smirks triumphantly at Will, which makes him huff and cross his arms. Jamie and Tanner look at each other, and then turn away trying not to laugh. Ok maybe the rest of them aren’t getting on your last nerve. You bite your lower lip to cover your smile.

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You continue to walk, the sun starting to sink lower into the sky. The bugs have been chewing you up for a good thirty minutes. You’re itchy, and hungry, and cranky. Your feet hurt and your legs burn from all the walking. Maybe I should start working out.

You have it easy though. Jamie pushed himself to hard and almost passed out which caused the trip to be delayed for twenty minutes until he was lucid again.

Hayley’s ankle has gotten worse and has slowed down your walking speed. Noah offered her his arm to help her, which did mean you could speed up a little bit. She blushed and accepted and the two of them have been talking quietly since. Will has been silent since Noah offered but he keeps looking over his shoulder to glare at them. It might be making you a little happy to see Will so angry at Noah and Hayley hitting it off. Watching them has made the tedious walk just a little more enjoyable.

But at least you are almost there. The road to the cabin should be around the next curve. Your feet are screaming at the thought of getting to sit down.

“C-can we stop,” Jamie asks, one hand clutching his forehead. “I’m-I’m starting to f-feel dizzy again.”

“Of course,” you say with a fake smile on your face. As much as it’s nice to have a break, you’re almost there and you don’t want to stop, you just want to get there. But you’re not going to force him to keep going and have another almost fainting incident.

Will groans loudly but walks off the road to lean against a tree. He sinks to the ground and stretches his legs out and rotates his ankles. Kyle sets Jeannie down and he and the rest of Will’s lackeys follow and sit beside him in a circle.

Noah helps Hayley to the ground and then sits in front of her. He asks her if he can see her foot to see how bad it is. She places her foot in his lap. He proceeds to take her shoe off and move her foot in different positions, which makes her hiss through her teeth. He starts massaging her foot, her pained expression turning into one of pleasure. Noah’s cheeks burn a brilliant red. Will does his best to ignore them but you catch the angry glances he makes their way.

“Just let me know when you’re feeling good again, Jamie,” you tell him, sinking to the ground, as he walks with Tanner and Jeannie to a different tree.

“I will,” he mumbles. Lilly sits down right by the road. She designated herself to be the lookout for in case someone drives by.

Another break, another chance to sit with your thoughts. At least when you’re walking you can focus on walking and how each step is getting you closer to a comfy seat and hopefully a phone. Sitting and resting has your thoughts wandering to places you don’t want to be thinking.

Like why has no one driven past yet? Most people’s work would be over by now and they should have driven past to go home. Someone should have come. Not to mention, why didn’t anyone from the school send someone down this bus route when you didn’t get to there. Why hasn’t someone come looking for you?

Also, if your phones don’t work, will the house phone? And what even is going on with the phones? Why aren’t they working?

“Did you hear that?” Noah suddenly says, straightening his back and looking past the trees.

“Hear what?” Kyle asks, looking into the forest as well.

“I thought I heard a branch snap,” he answers. He drops Hayley’s foot and stands up.

“And what? You think someone’s stalking us?” Will asks sarcastically.

“Not someone, something,” he continues sweeping the area with his eyes looking for any sign of movement.

“I don’t see anything,” you say, also standing up and looking around. You notice Hayley slipping her shoe back on her foot quickly.

“I think we should get going,” Noah says, holding his hand out to help Hayley up. She accepts his offer and he pulls her to standing. The younger kids get up and crowd around you with different levels of scared written on their faces.

“Why? There’s nothing there,” Graham says nonchalantly, although he does stand up too.

“Just because you can’t see something, doesn’t mean it isn’t there,” he says, turning to you, “Miss YLN?”

“Jamie, how’re you feeling?” you ask him, laying your hand on his forehead.

“I’m ready to go,” he says quickly. You think he’s a little scared, and you don’t blame him, you’re a little scared that something might be out there watching you.

“Seriously? We’ve barely been sitting,” Will says. He’s still sitting on the ground not looking any bit worried.

“I’d rather we be safe than sorry,” you say rounding the younger kids up and walking behind them back to the road. “Let’s go, guys.” Noah and Hayley following close behind you. Lilly gets up as you pass her and trails behind Noah and Hayley.

Graham, Kyle, and Adam walk after you. Will sighs heavily but eventually stands up and follows, muttering angry words with every step.

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

You continue walking. Everyone is trying to walk faster, except for Will who is still adamant that there’s nothing there. You keep looking over your shoulder, you’re positive you’re going to see something. Your paranoia getting worse the lower the sun sets. Is it just an animal or are you in a horror movie and some machete wielding madman is after you? Would that be too cliché?

Your heart is beating so fast and for once since you started walking it’s not from the exercise. Well at least not from just the walking. That last hill really took your breath away.

You let out a relieved sigh as you round a curve and Old Man Busby’s cabin road comes into view on the right.

“Just a little further, guys!” you say happily.

Noah, who had been leading you down the road, stops suddenly and cocks his head to the left. Everyone stops behind him and looks into the forest. Unfortunately, you can’t see past the first two rows of trees. The forest is too dense and dark to see too far into.

“What is it?” Hayley leans against him and whispers.

“I’m not sure. Maybe a cougar, or maybe a wolf pack. I’ve heard more than one branch snapping, but I haven’t been able to tell if it’s one animal or more,” Noah says, he starts walking again and everyone trails behind him. Jeannie holds onto your and Kyle’s hand as she walks between you.

“And we’re just supposed to believe you? How do we even know wolves are in this forest?” Will asks.

“Why would I lie?”

“Maybe there’s a pussy you’re trying to impress, hm?” Will sneers. “One I’ve already been in? Loser like you trying to get my sloppy seconds?” Graham and Adam snigger to themselves as they walk beside him.

“Shut the fuck up, Will,” Hayley says quietly, anger radiating off her body.

“Will, that’s enough,” you say sternly, turning to look at him, Lilly’s annoyed face coming into view first before you shift your gaze to Will’s smirking one.

“Oh please. I’m just saying the truth,” he says. Kyle looks at you and rolls his eyes.

“No need to be an ass though,” he mumbles.

“What was that, bro?” Will calls out, an edge to his voice.

“Nothing, buddy ole pal,” Kyle turns and gives him an over the top smile.

“Everyone shut up!” Noah says loudly, stopping in his tracks again. Everyone, even Will, shuts their mouths and looks from side to side.

Your heart starts beating faster, adrenaline shooting through your veins. Your skin feels prickly and you have the biggest urge to just run, to get out of there. But you can’t. You need to be here for everyone.

“Whatever is out there is surveying us. Trying to find the weakest member to pick off,” Noah says quietly, putting his arm around Hayley’s shoulders. Jeannie grips your hand tightly and lets out a whimper.

“Like to eat?” she whispers.

“Let’s keep going,” Noah says. “Let’s go faster though. We’re almost at the ro--,” a loud snap to your left cuts him off.

Everyone freezes.

It was so close to the edge of the trees.

The sound of growling hits your ears next. You’re so scared that you feel like you’re trapped in a corner with no where to go. You don’t hear Noah yelling to run. You don’t hear the terrified screams of the other kids. All that you’re focused on are the yellow eyes that emerge from the trees as the first wolf takes chase.

If it wasn’t for Kyle pulling on your hand you would have just stood there becoming wolf bait.

You snap out of your terror, almost tripping over your feet. Kyle is pulling you along by the hand as you race down the road, Jeannie wrapped around his torso. Your already tired legs burn as you push them harder than you ever have before. The sound of paws hitting the road and low snarls are the only thing keeping you going.

Noah and Hayley hit the cabin’s dirt road first and they take off it, quickly getting swallowed by the trees. Jamie and Tanner are right behind them with Lilly closely following. Please don’t let Jamie get dizzy right now. I can’t lose another one.  

You dash onto the other road, the cabin coming into view about 500 metres away. You hear Graham, Will, and Adam’s feet hit the dirt road seconds after you.

Your lungs feel like they’re on fire, but you keep pushing. You feel like a wolf is going to rip you to shreds at any moment. You can hear their teeth gnashing together as they nip and bite at the air.

You can hear Tanner yelling at Jamie to hurry up and that’s when you notice that you’re almost running on top of them. Jamie stumbles and trips, landing hard on his knees and arms.

Your heart stops.

You try to stop but with your momentum you don’t have time and you run right by them. You rip your hand from Kyle’s and spin around. That’s when you see just how close the wolves are. There are six wolves running towards you. They’re huge, their backs easily up to your hips. Their sharp teeth sending shivers down your spine as they gleam and glisten with saliva in the dying light.

“Go! We got them!” Graham yells at you. Kyle grabs your hand again and pulls you after him. You put your trust in the older boys and you take off running again. If you don’t, you’d be wolf chow and then what good would you be to the kids?

Noah and Hayley get to the door, swinging it open and running inside, Lilly running in right after. Thank fucking god it’s unlocked.  They peek their heads out, shouting at you to hurry.

You’re so close.

You push your legs harder. Your breath barely coming out. A stitch in your side so painful you want to cry.

A shrill scream rips through the air just as your feet hit the wood floors of the cabin, right behind Kyle and Jeannie. Graham, with a small body in his arms, then Adam, then Will follow after you seconds later. Will throws his body against the door to shut it. You stare at them as the screams continue to ring out.

Why are they only carrying one? What happened?

Nine pairs of eyes stare at you. Lilly covers her ears to block out the screaming. Tears pour down Hayley’s face.

As suddenly as the screams started, they stop just as fast, getting cut off like someone paused a song.

The deafening silence settles around you, its thick fingers wrapping around your throat, suffocating you in its oppressive embrace.

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Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I had fun writing it. I’m super excited for the next couple chapter as JK will be making his appearance soon!

Tagged: @sugalarity

[sockablock]

Here’s Chapter 4 of my Critical Role backstory fic, this time featuring Beauregard! It’s the longest one so far; I had a lot to write about the Disaster Lesbian™ (check out Fjord, Caleb, and Jester too!)

Word Count: 4686

From Where We Came: Chapter 4, Beauregard

Beauregard is born in the early morning hours of the 18th of Brussendar, in the height of summer, to parents glowing with immense pride. Beauregard is hastily handed off to her nurse in the early morning hours of the 18th of Brussendar, in the height of summer, by parents who don’t even do their new daughter the kindness of hiding their disdain and disappointment. She is whisked away, down the hall, to a different room furnished in soft blues and filled with little wooden toys and plush animals. She is placed into a wooden crib. The nurse leaves. In the lonely quiet, the newborn girl begins to cry.

“No, Beau, dearest, stop fussing with your dress,” her mother scolds quietly. “This is a very important tour, and you mustn’t behave this way. It would look absolutely terrible for your father if you caused a scene.”

“But, Mama,” Beau protests, “I hate wearing this dress. The lacy parts are itchy and the sleeves are too long.”

 Her mother pats her on the head. “Don’t worry, darling, we’ll get you another one made.”

 Beau pouts. “Mama, I don’t want another dress. I don’t want to wear a dress.”

 Her mother tuts quietly. “Don’t be silly, dear. Look, Mummy is wearing a dress, isn’t she? Don’t I look pretty? You look so pretty too.”

 Beau considers her mother. Then her eyes wander a few yards away, where her father is proudly showing off the brewery’s newest oak barrels to group of tall, very important-looking men. They are dressed in long coats, with their trousers tucked into sturdy, but well-made and needlessly fashionable boots.

“Why can’t I wear what Papa is wearing?” Beau asks. “He’s not got a dress on, so why do I have to wear one?”

 Her mother laughs. It’s a soft, twinkling sound, like a little bell. Beau knows this laugh. It’s the we’ve-got-company-and-my-child-is-talking-too-much laugh. Beau knows this laugh well.

 “You can’t wear trousers,” her mother says, “you’re a girl. You could if you were a boy, but you’re not, are you?”

 Beau knows the answer to that question. “No, Mama,” she says.

  Darien is a boy, and one of the most exciting people Beau knows. He’s eleven, two years older than she is. He’s the son of another winery owner, as renowned and as wealthy as Beau’s parents. The edges of their lands weave together easily enough, and he frequently slips away from his duties to go hang out with the rowdy girl next door. Together, they pester the workers and write cuss words in the dirt paths and chase each other through endless rows of gleaming purple grapes. During peak harvest season, one of their favorite things to do is steal the fattest grapes off the vines and meet in the woods between the properties to compare their loot. They sit together in one of the tallest trees and munch on grapes and talk of benign, childish things.

 “I could beat you up,” Beau says between mouthfuls.

 Darien considers the muddy hem of her dress, her rolled-up sleeves, the leaves in her hair. “Yeah,” he says, “You probably could.”

 “Probably could?” Beau raises an eyebrow.

 “Definitely could,” he admits. “But I’m not that strong.”

 From six feet up in the branches, Beau leans against the tree trunk. “That’s ok,” she says in a rare bit of open friendliness, “you’re good at other stuff. Like climbing trees and stealing things from your dad.”

 Darien shoots her a grin. “You won’t believe this,” he says, “but I picked a lock yesterday!”

 Beau’s eyes go wide. “No!” She exclaims. “Really? How did you do it?”

 His grin broadens. “I can show you when we finish these grapes!” He lowers his voice conspiratorially, even though there’s nobody around for ages here. “I lifted a set of thieves’ tools from one of the sheds,” he says, “and I’m not really sure why they were there, but it was probably fine because nobody goes in there ever anyways. And I was messing around in there but then I knocked some stuff over on the top shelves and it hit the door and then the door locked and then I was like oh, Pelor, I’m gonna die, but then I just shoved some of the hooks from the set into the lock and then it opened!” Darien takes a deep breath to refill his lungs. “And now I’m an expert rogue,” he concludes.

The pair stand in front of the door. “It’s not locked,” says Beau. “It was just rusty. I think you probably just messed with the inside hard enough to unstick it.”

 Darien gives her a reproachful look. “That’s basically lockpicking,” he says.

 “Nuh-uh,” Beau says.

 “Uh-huh,” he replies with scathing wit.

 “Nuh-uh,” Beau retorts eloquently.

 “Uh-huh. It wouldn’t open before, and now it does.”

 Beau considers this point. “Alright,” she says eventually, “I’ll give you that one. But it’s not lockpicking like real thief would lockpick.”

 Darien points a finger under her nose. “Then just you wait!” he declares. “I’ll learn how to be a real thief and then you can’t tell me what’s what anymore.”

 Beau grins. “Oh yeah? What if I do it first?” And she cuffs him over the head and scampers off, shouting about how real thieves could move quick as the wind. Darien gives chase, whooping loudly behind her.

Beauregard stares out the window, and chews on the end of her quill. The clouds look quite fascinating today, and the fact that she even had that thought must be a testament to how godsdamn bored she is. Father and Mother are making her check the books again, and even though her tutors have praised her mathematical skills (“When she applies herself she really is quite good,” the one with the annoying mustache had said.), Beau really can’t be bothered to even try and be interested in numbers. Even though her parents have hinted numerous times that she should be stepping up and helping out more with the business, Beau doesn’t want to. It’s boring. She’d rather run around outside or pick grapes or do almost literally anything else.

 She sighs and glances down at the page. Only a few rows left.

“You spoke out of line again, Beauregard! That tour was incredibly important, and your comments disrupted my guests and made me look like a fool!”

 “I’m sorry, father, I’m sorry! I won’t do it again.”

 “If you do, you know what the punishments are.”

 She does.

So when Beau accidentally lets slip to her parents that her clothes are always filthy because she spends all her free time traipsing through the woods with the neighbor’s son, she expects the worst. There are grave punishments for doing boy things. For being disruptive. For being ungrateful and ruining the lovely things we give her and being a bad, bad girl.

 What she doesn’t expect is for Mother to scoop her up in a big hug and cry tears of joy. What she doesn’t expect is the flicker of impressed surprise that flits across her father’s usually stoic face.

 “Oh, my darling, this is wonderful news!” Her mother gushes. “And you’re sure this is young Darien? You’re sure he likes to spend time with you?”

 Beau makes a face that neither of her parents notice. “Mama, of course I’m sure it’s Darien. And, uh, yeah.”

 “Oh, this will be absolutely fantastic for your father. Won’t it, dear?” She asks with a glance at her husband.

 He gives the slightest nod. “How old are you, Beauregard?”

 Beau looks down at the ground. “Twelve, Papa.”

 “You are rather young,” he muses, “but this opportunity…”

 Beau’s mother nods enthusiastically.

 Her father nods again, this time more firmly. Then his frown returns and he says, firmly, “But pleased as I am with this match, you two cannot keep spending time the way you currently are. No more of this running through the forests and getting into trouble. You are a young woman, and should compose yourself as such.”

 Beau can feel the weight of his gaze. She doesn’t like it.

“I can’t believe our parents are making us do this,” Darien groans. We’ve never had to be fancy around each other before.”

 Beau grumbles, misery dripping off her slumped shoulders. “This sucks ass,” she says. Swear words are still rather new to her, but she has a good feeling about them. She makes a mental note to ask the servants for some more.

 Meanwhile, Darien risks a glance over at where his mother and father are talking with Beau’s at the other end of the garden. They’re seated around a polished wooden tea-table and passing each other the weird little sandwiches that grownups like to eat. Between bites, they discuss (probably) the best way to ruin their kids’ lives. A maid hovering behind them, striking empty cups with the teapot like an eagle diving for heron. To the side a butler stands, staring at pink lilies, artfully pretending not to be waiting for commands while also waiting around for commands. Birds chirp in the flowering trees above them. A few bees hum softly in the background.

 Darien turns back to Beau, whose scowl has somehow gotten even deeper. “Hey,” he says, “do you think they’re doing this ‘cause they want us to…you know? Get married and stuff?”

 Beau sighs and gives a shrug. “That’s what they were talking about yesterday.”

 Their eyes meet, and they consider one another for a moment.  

 “No,” they say simultaneously.

 They both nod in acknowledgement of a good decision and slide further down on the bench. Beau’s dress, a horrific, daffodil-colored poofy nightmare, prevents her from achieving optimal slouch. Darien fidgets with his coat. They are basically in hell.

 Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Beau hops to her feet. “Okay, I’m done now. Let’s go.”

 A slow grin spreads across Darien’s face. “The birch tree by the river?”

 They wait for just the right moment. And while the parents are preoccupied with one another and the maid is busy fielding refills and the butler is distracted by a particularly unruly-looking begonia, they slip away, adults none the wiser.

Beauregard stares out her window. Her cheeks are sticky from dry tears, and the sniffling hasn’t quite stopped yet. Her face is still a bit puffy, and her eyes are bloodshot. But the worst relic from the last half-hour are the words, which she are trying desperately to bury so far into her subconscious that nothing would ever be able to bring them out again.  

 Horrible, useless child, how could you be so ungrateful—This was an incredible opportunity and your selfishness has ruined it—His parents were appalled at your behavior—How could you just run away like that and wreck everything—We raised you better—

 —Oh, for Pelor’s sake, stop crying, you’re nothing but an embarrassment. Get out of here, Beauregard. Get out and stay in your room while your Father and I try to fix the damage you’ve caused.

 Beau hits her forehead against the glass.

“Father is sending me away,” says Darien from outside the open library window. “I snuck over here so I could tell you, but I have to go back before he notices. He’s kind of still super pissed about our disappearing act.”

 “Yeah,” Beau mutters. “My parents are too. Who would’ve thought, huh?”

 Darien smirks. “The sticks up their asses are pretty lodged in there.”

 There is a brief silence. Then, “Where to?”

 “It’s an academy in Rexxentrum, if you can believe it. Apparently lots of young nobles and wealthy hoity toity assholes go there to learn…whatever it is they learn.”

 “How long?”

 “I don’t know. Father says it’s until I can ‘behave properly enough to live up to my duties,’ which I think is a load of shit.”

 “How long do you think that’ll take you?”

 “…I’m not sure. But I think he wants me to be there for like…a long time. A really long time.”

 “Will you come back?”

 The answer is instantaneous. “Yes,” Darien says. “I’m his heir. He said so himself.”

 “Alright then,” Beau closes the ledger she was working in. “I’ll probably be here when that happens. It’s not like my parents are going to do anything with me.”

 Darien leans through the window and reaches around Beau’s shoulders rather clumsily. “You’re my best friend,” he says.

 “You’re my brother, dumbass.” Darien doesn’t argue. And the next day, he is gone.

“Papa,” Beau asks tentatively at dinner, “am I your heir?”

 He continues to skim the documents in his hands. “No,” he says.

Beau continues to work the books for the brewery. It seems like the times she quietly retreats to the library to manage ledgers are the only times her parents don’t make their displeasure with her quite as overt.

 At least you’re good for something, goes unsaid.

 She also keeps up with her studies, though she really would rather not. History is about boring dead guys fighting in stupid wars because they do stupid things. Geography doesn’t matter; it’s not like you can do anything about it if you don’t like it, and it’s not like you need to keep an eye on it in case it runs away. She finds marginal interest in the stories of the gods from religious studies, but could do without the constant, underlying our gods are superior and nonbelievers are scum. Math has always just been math, and she couldn’t care less about the politics of the Empire.

 The only things she really enjoys reading are the tales of adventure she finds in the dustier sections of the library. She steals them from the shelves and hoards them in her room. At night, she’ll pull them out and reread her favorite parts by candlelight. She absolutely loves The Mountain Range of Gold, and almost cheered out loud when the protagonist resurfaced in Part 2. She delights in gratuitous descriptions of kick-ass fight scenes, and sometimes tries to reenact them with that a particularly kind onlooker might call “enthusiasm.”  

 There are also many, many romance scenes. Beau is unprepared for the sheet amount of…canoodling that some of these adventurers get up to. She’s rather annoyed by the unfortunate tendency of the broad-shouldered, handsome male characters (heroes) to sweep the beautiful, helpless female characters (love interests) off their feet. Beau could do without ever reading about a Sir Diggory and his seemingly endless muscles again. Usually she’s also disgusted by the way the women are portrayed, as gorgeous damsels with hearts of gold and not enough clothing and apparently very soft skin.

 Though sometimes, a small part of her is absolutely delighted. Beau isn’t sure what to make of that yet. Yet.

When she isn’t raiding the libraries or being forced to learn things, Beau continues to run through in the vineyard and the nearby forests. Doing so does feel a bit empty without Darien around, and the loneliness would never go away, but the sharp edges of solitude had smoothed down into soft corners over time. Besides, Beau has to do something, and stir craziness does not sit well with her. 

 So rather than mope around all day in the manor, which is probably what her parents would want, Beau climbs trees and wades through streams and throws pebbles (unmaliciously) at squirrels. She also has the clothing for it now. A while back, in a stroke of genius, she asked the one of the more slightly-built workers for a pair of trousers, a linen shirt, and a hefty pair of worker’s boots. Despite her worst fears of being reported to her mother, the boy didn’t seem to mind. And after a while of hanging around their quarters and volunteering to do chores and refusing to bugger off, the servants move from tolerating her presence to inviting her for drinks (non-alcoholic) and stories. She hears about daring adventurers from ages past, brilliant and bloody battles, and learns quite about the various criminal elements of the empire. One day, an older worker teaches her how to really pick a lock, which comes in handy on the nights she stays out too late and has to break into her own home. They help her touch up her disguise, which allows her to hang around outdoors when her parents expect her to be in the house doing ladylike things. They let her hide her outfit with their belongings, and even occasionally pass along other hand-me-downs to her.

 She has never been so free.

“You’ve gotten rather fit, haven’t you, Beauregard?” asks the dressmaker as she measures Beau for another terrible ensemble. “Just look at you!”

 Beau considers herself in the mirror. “I suppose so?”

 “I can’t imagine how,” says the dressmaker, “with you being home and learning to be a proper lady all the time.” The comment is pointed. It indicates that at any point Beau’s mother can be brought into the room and also shown how rather fit Beau has gotten.

 Beau sighs. “I promise I’ll stop squirming,” she says.

 “Don’t worry, dear, it’s refreshing. Too many young ladies these days look like a light breeze would blow them over.”

Beau can now successfully hang upside-down on a tree branch by her knees. She considers this one of the greatest achievements of her young life.

“Her tutors are quite impressed by her abilities,” her mother says to the guests in the drawing room. “Aren’t they, dear?”

 “Yes, Mother,” says Beau. Her hands are folded in her lap. This dress is blue, at least, but that only helps so much.

 The other ladies are speaking. They sound like birds tittering ceaselessly outside a bedroom window in the early morning.

 “Not too impressed, I would hope?” says one, louder than the rest. Beau doesn’t like her. She’s got hair that’s obviously going grey, though the woman tries to hide it under an ostentatious hat. There’s also a mole growing on the edge of her nose. It’s got more personality than she does.

 “A husband wouldn’t want his lady to be too clever, after all,” says the terrible woman. “Can’t have her getting too controlling of his household.”

 Beau’s mother laughs. It’s another tinkling laugh, the I’m-richer-than-you-and-we-both-know-it-so-don’t-you-dare-lecture-me laugh. “Of course, Deannie, she’s properly educated. She just excels at what she’s taught. Why, she was almost betrothed to young Darien. It’s just that his father decided the boy should be sent to school before committing to anything.”

 The women sip their tea in a manner that indicates how impressed they are. Beau wants to pick up the tea cart and use it to smash the window open.

Beau receives another letter from Darien. She crumples it up shortly after reading it. Then, immediately filled with regret, she picks it up and tries to smooth it out best as she can. Her fingers trace over the words.

 Beau,

 I’m sorry to say this but I won’t be coming back. Father is having me stay in Rexxentrum to be the face of his company in the capital. I know I promised I’d see you again, but there’s nothing I can do. Believe me, I tried to fight him about this. But he said that with him in Kamordah already, there’s no need for me to be at home. He wants me to be a businessman. You and I both know he won’t change his mind. You’re my sister, Beau, and I’m so sorry—

 She puts the letter in a drawer and goes to bed.  

There’s a new maid at the manor.

 Her name is Mariel. She has dark, curly hair and freckles across her nose. She moves like a storm through the Quarters, cussing loudly and joking cheerfully, and old Reddick tells Beau she’s from one of the rowdier coastal cities. She’s seventeen, and Beau is thrilled to finally meet a girl her own age. But Mariel makes Beau nervous, and she isn’t sure why. Maybe it’s her unrestrained spirit. Maybe it’s her wide smile and mischievous eyes.

 Maybe it’s the loud, echoing laugh that dances through the halls when she watches Beau—who had scaled the manor to the third-floor and tripped over the windowsill as she tried to sneak in—spill onto the floor and land on her ass.

 “Ow.” Beau rubs her head. She looks up at Mariel. “I’m not a thief,” she says.

 Mariel snickers, and Beau is struck by complete lack of decorum in the action. “Yeah, a real thief wouldn’t have fallen like that.”

 Beau scowls. “I mean I’m not a thief ‘cause I live here.”

 Mariel leans against her broom. “Yeah, right. Mister, you’re wearing worker’s clothes two sizes too big for you, and you’ve got dirt all across your face. And haven’t I seen you around the Quarters before? I could have sworn you were playing cards with Reddick yesterday.”

 Beau freezes, and swears inwardly. Of course, someone new would think she was one of the servants breaking into the Boss’s house for some gold. Over the years, the help had welcomed the muddy-faced and loud young lady of the house into their fold, and largely ignored her antics. She had gotten so used to making a fool of herself and breaking rules in front of everybody except her parents that she’d forgotten how unacceptable her behavior really is. She sighs, and figures there’s no good way out of this situation.

 The truth, then.

 She pulls her hair out of its messy bun and does her best to wipe the dirt (fresh from the forest) off of her face. She tugs at the sides of her pants, trying to flare them out like a dress. “I’m Beauregard,” she says. “Please don’t tell my parents?”

 The broom falls over, and Mariel almost does too. She hastily picks it up and tries to curtsy with a four-foot wooden stick in her hands, which only makes her almost drop the broom again. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” she says, and when she rises her face goes red, “wait, fuck, I mean…oh shoot, dammit. I’m sorry, milady.”

 Beau tries to suppress the smirk threatening to split her face. “Nobody warned you that I do this sometimes?”

 Mariel swears under her breath and curtsies again. “No, ma’am.”

 Beau fails, and when Mariel resurfaces from the curtsy, she is met with an absolutely shit-eating grin from Beau. “I kind of hang around the Quarters and run around in the woods a lot. I think everyone thinks it’s funny, and I always loose a lot of money when we play cards, so nobody really cares. Except my parents. Who can’t know,” she adds.

 Mariel stares at Beau, and bursts into laughter again. After a while, she wipes the tears from the corners of her eyes. “Wow, when I heard that the daughter of the house was a troublemaker, I thought they meant you were shitty to the servants or something. I didn’t think they meant you dressed up in boy’s clothes and lost at cards to us.”

 Beau rubs the back of her neck sheepishly. “Well—”

 Footsteps echo down the hall. Then, “I’m sorry, Madam, but I really don’t think it was a servant.”

 There’s a scoff. “It had better not be. Honestly, I pay you all well enough to keep quiet and keep out of trouble. If I found out it’s a servant making noise this late at night I’m docking all of your pay.”

 It’s her mother. Beau freezes.

 Mariel quickly looks around. Then she grabs Beau by the wrist and yanks her down the hallway and into an empty guest bedroom. She carefully clicks the lock shut, then squeezes Beau and herself against a wardrobe just beyond the doorframe so their shadows don’t peek under the door.

 Footsteps go past, along with an angry tirade by Beau’s mother.

 They breathe a sigh of relief. Then Beau notices how the other girl has both her arms around her to keep her still, how she’s still holding her wrist and how well her body fits into Beau’s. How soft her hair is, and the way her chest rises when she—

 “See something interesting, Milady?” whispers Mariel. Beau’s face colors. Her head snaps upwards and their eyes meet.  

“You’re eighteen. And though our previous efforts failed thanks to your actions, new arrangements can always be made. It’s high time we planned for the future of this business, and it’s not as if you’re completely undesirable. Marcus would be a nice match, I should think.”

 Beau carefully helps Mariel into the branches, then swings herself up the trunk and lands next to the her.

 “Nice of Syra to cover for you today,” she says.

 “Personally, I think Syra is on to us, and I think she’s doing her best to keep us together.”

 Beau pulls out a book. “Perfect! That means we can keep going. Now, where were we?” she asks.

 Mariel grins. “I think Sir Diggory was just about to compliment Lucianne’s tits in a much-too flowery manner.”

 Beau snickers. “Oh, you’ll love this part.”  

She leans against the pillow, breathing heavily. “Mariel?” She says.

 “Yes, Beau?”

 There’s a pause.

 “I think I love you.”

They let their guard down. It’s a mistake.

“Your father and I have decided to send you to Zadash,” says Beau’s mother. “You’ve left us in a very…difficult position, and it was extremely hard for us to find a place for you. But Archivist Xenoth has agreed to teach you, and we think learning from the monks will be a positive influence on you.”

 “Why?” asks Beau. “Because monks do what they’re told and don’t have sex?”

 Her mother’s face turns a scandalized crimson, and her fists clench. “Beauregard, you have caused enough trouble for this family. You’ve always behaved extremely poorly, and you’ve never listened to your father and I when we know what’s best for you. You destroyed your own chances at a future with Darien, and got him sent away by his parents. You continue to mess about with the servants when you should be mingling with the rest of dignified society. And now you allow yourself to get tangled with this common girl, and—”

 “Don’t you talk about her like that,” Beau says through clenched teeth.

 “—and you get caught and you’ve scandalized the entire family—”

 “Nobody needs to know! And why does it matter, anyway? Why does it matter what I do?”

 “—you have duties to carry on this legacy your father has worked so hard to create for you—”

 “I didn’t ask for it! I didn’t want any stupid legacy! This would be fine if I were a boy!”

 “—shut up! You are not a boy, as both of us are well aware, and if you were one then everything would be so much easier for us! But you’re a girl, even if you seem incapable of acting like one, and we cannot have you soiling this family by continuing to stay here and being the way you are. If you aren’t going to do what we wanted you to all along, you’re going to go to the Cobalt Reserve and you’re going to become a monk, and maybe you’ll learn some respect and come home, or maybe you’ll just stay there and keep studying. But whatever happens, you’re going to become respectable, and you’re not going to ruin our name. Is that clear?”

 Beau is biting her lip. There are tears running down her face. Her mother is shaking with anger.

 “Is that clear?”

 “Yes.”

It could have been worse, Beau thinks. At least they gave her some neat robes. At least they let her swear. At least they taught her how to fight. And she was really good at that last bit. But all this crap about “preparing her mind” and “preparing her soul” and “being the truth” learning about patience and sorting shelves and reading books is…is all crap. Beau doesn’t give a fuck. And so when she packs a bag and slips on her uniform and cracks open the window and slides onto the balcony, she moves quietly. And she doesn’t look back.

[siempre-bucky]

Murder at Stark Manor: Peter Parker X Reader

PART 1 of2

Midtown High Students have come to participate in Liz’s live action role play. The reader wants to confess her feelings for Peter but knows about his crush on Liz. No one actually dies, it’s ok :)

Word Count: 1.8k (OMG I’M SORRY T.T)

Peter Parker x Reader

Based on the board game Clue

It was the middle of the beautiful month of April, and around this time a grand party was about to be announced by the popular Liz Toomes. It was an annual gathering, only certain students were invited to partake in this year’s party. For it would be a party to die for.

“What do you think her party theme is this year?” Y/F/N Y/L/N asked her best friend as they walked through the crowded halls of Midtown High. Peter Parker looked down at her and shrugged, reaching his locker. Y/N picked at her army green sweater as she leaned against the locker next to Peter’s.  She took a moment to admire the spider boy, he was perfect, his hair, his body, even his fingers as they graced the lock.

Upon opening the locker, a white envelope fell out, making a soft noise as it collided with the ground. The light brown haired male was oblivious to the envelope as he continued to stuff his books in his messy locker. “You dropped something,” Y/N told him. Peter looked down and gasped, picking up the envelope.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked her excitedly, pointing at the red wax seal. Y/N shook her head, although, in reality, she knew what it was. And frankly, she was afraid, this was Liz trying to get Peter to be hers “Read the initials! LT! It’s an invite to the biggest party of the year,” he nearly squealed. Y/N put her pointer finger up to her lips to silence the overly excited boy. Everyone was aware of the crush Peter has had on Liz since forever grade. Peter sighed to calm himself down, this is too exciting.

“I’m going to open it,” he said as he broke the seal and hurriedly took the thick and shiny invitation:

                                  You are cordially invited to participate in…

                                             A Party to Die For

                                         Presented by Liz Toomes

                                        17th of April   7:00 pm sharp

                                                   Boddy Manor

               (Please attend in 1920s fashion and speak with an English accent)

Y/N rolled her eyes, of course, Liz would pull out all the stops for her parties. Boddy Manor was the old mansion upstate, recently bought by an unknown owner. A party to die for? So cliché, she thought as she looked over at the invitation in Peter’s hand. If this was a cartoon, Y/N’s skin would be turning green, but she would never admit it.  “I’m going to class, don’t drown in your own drool,” she laughed as she walked off for class. Peter wiped the bead of drool of his chin and wiped it on his dark blue jeans.

The grumpy girl stood in front of her gray locker and slowly started to turn the numbers on her small lock. Suddenly a shadow appeared behind her, she breathed in, slightly cringing at the overwhelming smell of Marc Jacobs perfume.  Y/N ran her hand through her choppy neck length hair before turning around to look at the girl.

Behind her was none other than Liz Toomes holding out a white envelope exactly the same as Peter’s. Liz’s frosty pink lips turned up into a knowing smile as she looked down at Y/N’s unimpressed facial expression.

“This is for you,” she spoke. Y/N hesitantly reached out and took the envelope from her manicured hands.  

“Uh, thanks, Liz,” Y/N said in disbelief, why would she give her an invitation? Y/N studied the indecipherable look on the taller girl’s face. What has possessed the daughter of Satan? What kind of trick was she trying to play on her… or Peter? Liz broke the eye contact and took a step back. It was no secret that you and Liz didn't like each other, especially since you were both competing for Peter's attention

“Anything for you Y/N! Remember don’t be late,” Liz said, flipping her long curly dark hair over her shoulder and walking away. Y/N didn’t bother reading the invitation, I’m only going because Peter is, she reminded herself, shoving the envelope into her bag.

The evening had come, the grand party was about to take place. The sun had started to set and the air had become cooler. From the other side of the street, Y/N stood there and watched the other people standing on the porch, dressed appropriately for the occasion. She tugged on her sparkly lavender drop waist dress and sighed deeply.

She took clumsy steps with her high heels, slowly managing to walk across the wet street.  Glancing up at the large door, Y/N took her place next to Peter. “Y/N! You got invited,” Peter whispered as he draped his arm around her shoulders. As they chill of the night settled in Y/N leaned into his embrace, observing those around her. He looked amazing in his black tux and thick red tie.

Standing across from the pair where the other players, Ned, of course, was invited but stayed far away from the group...he was really into this. He blew his pipe, and out came bubbles, Peter let out a laugh and nudged  Y/N to look.  On the other side of Ned was Michelle Jones  Liz’s best friend, her nose in a book, Scratching her hand which was in a dreadfully itchy white lace glove.

And of course, there was the girl of the hour, Liz with her green dress and brown faux fur coat. She was the best dressed there, twirling her pearl necklace as she talked to Michelle.

The guests waited anxiously for the opening of the doors, but finally, they had opened to reveal the maid character, Peter's eyes opened wide as he recognized her as Wanda “Welcome, welcome! Ms. Toomes and Mr. Stark welcome you all to this live action game of Clue at the Boddy Manor!” Mr. Stark? Peter whipped his head around to the street to see the billionaire standing there with his velvet lounge outfit, his hands nicely tucked in the large pockets. With Pepper Potts on his arm, wearing a skin tight red dress and hair in classic curls.

“Actually my dear, it's now Stark Manor,” he corrected with his fake accent. He was the buyer of the old mansion? Wanda rolled her eyes “ Our rules state that you must act in character and stick to your character descriptions,” She told them, stepping aside to let them into the entry way.  Peter let Y/N go in front of him as he stopped to talk to Tony.

“M-Mr Stark? How did you know about this?” he asked.

“That Liz girl has good bribery skills. I don't like her,” he muttered in a hushed tone. “Listen, kid, just enjoy and ask Y/N out ok, she's better,” he winked and gave Peter a firm pat on the back before walking into the mansion.

The room was barely lit, setting off a creepy vibe within the younger patrons. The maid walked and stood behind two large glass bowls with pieces of paper “Please come forth and select a paper, this will be your character description, one is for the gentleman and the other is for the girls,” she told them. Liz tossed her hair over her shoulder and walked up to the bowl twirling her hand inside before pulling one out with two fingers.

“Heiress to a large fortune, newly engaged to the heir of the large hotel in Manhattan,” she read aloud, smirking. Y/N rolled her eyes in annoyance. Michelle followed her lead and picked from the bowl.

“Daughter of the wealthy business man, heavily sheltered. Bite me” she spat, walking back to Liz.  Ned walked up to the bowl and stuck his hand inside the bowl for the men’s side.

“Ah, the business partner to the CEO, choice,” he laughed in victory, taking his place back in the group. And so it went on the other patrons found out their places in the game, Peter was to be “married” to Liz, Y/N was ironically the best friend to the heir of the hotel. Tony was naturally was cast as the CEO, while Pepper played the wife of Tony.

The guests walked into the living room for drinks, Y/N stood in the corner as she watched Peter sit on the couch in between Liz and Michelle, hamming it up. She furrowed eyes as her painted nails tapped the glass in annoyance.Tony took the last sip of his drink, noticing it was empty he left the room, to grab another bottle of champagne.

Minutes have passed, the same old record had played over and over, the sound had become nauseating. Suddenly the record player stopped and the lights went out. Everyone gasped. “Y/N!” Peter yelled, his spidey senses going wild. Jumping from the couch to find Y/N.

“I’m ok,” she said, looking around in complete darkness, trying to search for her friend. Peter followed her voice and slowly made his way over to her, bumping into the edge of the coffee table with his shin. He let out a groan bending down to grip in throbbing shin.

There was a sound, a bottle had broken in the other room and it earned everyone’s attention. “What was that?” Michelle shouted out, starting to get scared. The room was silent once again, the sounds of their heartbeats were the only things to be heard. Until the lights flickered back on and the maid rushed into the room, crying hysterically with blood all over her delicate hands.

“Someone killed my Master,” she cried, falling to the floor. Ned rushed over and sat beside her “What happened to my friend?” he asked, staying in character. The maid slowly stood up and walked the guests into the kitchen.

There on the floor was Tony lying on the ground, with blood covering his upper torso. Pepper pushed her way up to the front “Tony,” she sobbed, pulling out a handkerchief out of her dress, wiping her eyes. She leaned her head against Liz’s shoulder, who hesitantly tapped her shoulder in comfort.

“I came in after cleaning the master bedroom and he was found dead… one of you did it,” the maid’s demeanor changed. There were no more tears, she was angry, and everyone could tell.

“She has great acting,” Peter whispered to Y/N. She nudged his side, making him laugh and look at the crime scene.

“On the table behind me, there are envelopes for each of you. They contain a magnifying glass, a notepad, fingerprint dusting equipment and a map to the house. We will check in every hour… you have 3 hours to find out which one of you killed Tony Stark. I wish all of you good luck,” She informed before beginning to break down and cry over his body with a white sheet.

“Do you think Liz wants to pair up with me?” Peter asked.

“I don’t know,” Y/N looked over at Liz who was already arm and arm with Michelle, “I think she may have a partner already.” Peter looked at the pair that just left and pouted. Y/N looked at him in disbelief, they had been best friends since 1st grade and this is what she gets? She’s his second choice. I’m his second choice, this is ridiculous, she thought as she grabbed her packet off the table. If only he could see how much she loved him.