Years Later (Part 13)

Pennywise X Female Reader

Part 13 to Years Later

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           The Christmas events had wrapped up at the library with plenty of merriment and I was happy to hear when the head of the library said they would welcome me back with open arms once I was ready.  They even threw me a little going away party along with a small baby shower.  Robert had even joined in on the going away baby shower.  It was odd seeing him play human even after the few times I had seen him out and about as Robert Gray.  Though, it never ended as well as it did.  It was almost eerie.  The whole time he had a delighted grin on his face, one that was borderline feral at times. He was finally going to have me home all to himself and I could see him getting jittery towards the end of the get together.  He had managed to hold himself together so well during the whole ordeal that there was even pep in his step when we left, obviously proud.  He even had a jaunty whistle to the Christmas music on the radio as he drove us back home.

         Even though I knew I would miss work, there was something pleasant and calming about knowing I could just relax with him now.  Everything in me felt at ease knowing there wasn’t much left to care for except taking care of our baby as it grew.  I could find a hobby to pick up to pass the time until it was time for the baby to arrive.  I still had books I never read in the past twenty-seven years I could probably actually read.  I was thinking about some possible hobbies when he suddenly scooped me up in his arms when we entered the entry way.  As he strode down the hall he was changing back into the clown with that signature cartoony grin on his face.

           “All mine now.  Got you aaaaall to myself.”  His voice played in that uneven sing song tune.  “All mine, all mine.  Little (Y/N) is all mine!”

           We both let out a series of giggles as he plopped me on the bed with him looming above me.  My hand slipped up the side of his cheek and into his hair.  A while ago I had come to accept the fact that I truly did love this flesh eating, monstrous clown and decided to show it as best as I could.  And he did the same for me.  It was odd at first and there were some bumps in the road, but we figured it out for the most part.  Something in him cared enough for me so I had hopes this all would work out.  Even if he was an other worldly monster.

           “And just a few more months until our little one is here.”  I had a grin that could match his as he started to pepper sloppy kisses on me that started on my cheek and went down my chest.  He had even gotten more affectionate in the weeks leading up to my last day.  At times he would get overly rough but mostly tolerable despite the nicks and nips here and there.  Though, they didn’t compare to the more intense bites that riddled my body that I wouldn’t have to worry about hiding anymore.

           “They’re growing up so well.  So strong just like their father.”  Pennywise beamed a proud grin between kisses.  “What a terrifying little beast they’ll be, especially once I’m done showing them the ropes.  I have so much to show them.  So much to teach them.”

           “Just a bit longer.”  Happiness was bubbling in me at the thought.  It wasn't exactly the way I planned for a family, but it would be my family.  Our family. And I would do anything to make it the best I could.  “Hey, Pennywise?”

          “Mmmm yes little one?”  His golden glowing eyes met mine and there was that familiar in my spine. The way his eyes seemed to glitter like hundreds of thousands of stars always mesmerized me and spiked the feeling of arousal between my legs.  More so than usual with all the extra hormones.  His nose twitched as he picked up on the scent and some drool formed on his bottom lip

         “Will the baby be born as an egg or like a human baby?”  I hadn’t thought to ask when he had first implanted the egg in me.  Everything had been such a whirlwind afterwards I had pushed the question off in my mind.

         “Since I put the little one in as an egg, should come out just like usual.  I don’t think you’d survive if it was a fully developed egg that you’d have to deliver. Would be far too large.  You’d be double the size by now.  But it will be at least what you humans will expect in terms for infant size.  Can't go to a hospital though.  Won't know what the baby will look like when it pops out and I don't think you’d want me to murder a whole hospital.  Though what a feast that would be.”  Pennywise snickered before licking between my breasts which left a long trail of drool and furthered cementing the feeling between my legs.

         “N-No.  Not really. So much planning to do, such little time.  Can’t have that worry on my mind.”  I couldn't get out too many words as he used his knee to knock my legs open.  One of his gloved hands started to make its way between them to cup the heat that had pooled.

         “Yet all the time in the universe.”  I could hear the sound of a rip and then the feeling of a claw as he used only one finger to rip the underwear then tossed the remnants to the side. “All the time to ravage you.  All the time to fill you over and over with my brood.”

         “Pennywise.”  The next thing that fell from my lips was a shaky moan as he started to rub at my clit with his gloved fingers.  I could feel the soft silk get soaked the longer he continued to rub.

         “So wet, so needy, so eager.  All by some little touches.  Those hormones are getting to your little head my little (Y/N).  Oh, how I love it.  I could eat you up right now.”  He licked his lips, leaving a trail of drool behind that fell onto my thigh.  His fingers started to dip into me which only made myself open my legs up more for him.  “Poor little (Y/N.  Needs to be filled and fucked, fucked and filled.  I have just what you need.  Only Pennywise does, doesn’t he?”

         “Yes, Pennywise!”  I whined out as my back arched off the bed, my hands going and twisting into the sheets below me.  

          I could feel his eyes on me as he pumped his finger in and out which made me writhe below him.  He added another finger shortly after then another.  I could feel them curl inside me which made me cry out as he was hitting my sweet spot each time.  My walls clenched around him as my body teetered closer and closer to an orgasm. When his thumb pressed against my clit and began to rub in in tight circles is when I came undone underneath him. My body shuddered as my legs shook, my head going back as I cried out his name between my pleasured whimpers and mewls.  When I was coming down he slipped his fingers out of me and his long tongue lapped at the juices that had seeped into his glove.  

         I could feel my body was flushed but the need still ached between my legs.  He knew very well too, and he was soon tearing away at the front of his trousers to free his tendril like cock.  With half lidded eyes I watched him climb over me and grab my thighs to lift me up just a little higher so he could smoothly slide into me.  His tendril stretched me, painfully but blissfully like it always did.  I could feel the tip of it brush right against my sweet spot with every one of his thrusts and my body was already starting to tense up as another orgasm was building up.

          He rutted against me, letting the drool fall from his lip onto my breasts and my swollen stomach.  His hands wouldn’t stop roaming over my torso to play with my almost painfully swollen breasts and rub over the belly bump.

         “So full of me my little (Y/N).  No matter what, you’re full of me and you always will be.”  Both of his large hands cupped my belly and a teasing smirk had graced his lips.  “You love it. I can smell it.  Love being full of my cock.  Love being full of my brood.”  His face got closer to mine, close enough to kiss him if he leaned in just a little more.  “I’ll keep you full for all eternity.”

         With that he kissed me, and he let himself get lost in the moment of our passion.  I could feel his claws start to pierce the soft supple flesh of my hips as his thrusting got wilder.  Yet, that was as far as he went.  No teeth, no tearing through my flesh, no bruises or marks left behind but those on my hips.  Any time my hand brushed along his chest I could feel a deep rumbling that I couldn’t hear over the sound of our skin slapping together and with how vocal we were. His plump lips left wet kisses along my skin and his arms had soon curled around me possessively so.  He even muttered under his breath in his own strangely beautiful language that I couldn’t understand.  I didn’t have too much of a mind at the moment to try to make it out if I did know it.  Not when he was working climax after climax out of me.  Not as his lips trailed kisses along my skin that left goosebumps after each one.  Not even when he reached his climax where he always lost himself.  

         Afterwards he stayed inside me, and we held each other for some time.  I could hear faint chittering and the alien language only he knew.  Even though I couldn’t understand it, it was soothing. It didn’t help that his hands were caressing over my body that had become so exhausted in our little celebration. I don’t even remember when I fell asleep in his arms, but I knew I dreamt of a happy future, of our child, and of us.  When the dreams faded into another I could feel something like I was being watched. An intense stare that felt like it was looking directly into me and my being.  I had no idea it was Pennywise, and I couldn’t hear the mutterings under his breath.  Mutterings and whispers of promises and vows of possession and ideas on how to make sure I’d be his for eternity to come.

Chapter 2: What if it’s worth it?

School was going well. My thesis adviser was pleased with my job so far and I had had more time to see my friends that in the past few months. The only negative aspect was that David Budd still wasn’t speaking to me. It’s not that he said much otherwise, but now he wouldn’t even return my hellos in the morning and the goodbyes in the evenings. And I was mad with myself about caring.

We were now in the car, heading back to the Homeland HQ after a meeting Julia had invited me to attend. I desperately tried to catch his gaze in the mirror but he never looked at my side. Then, his phone started ringing. After a while, Julia told him to just pick up before it drove us all up the walls.

I wasn’t usually one to snoop around, but I tried paying attention to the conversation. It wasn’t a happy one, something about his son’s school, Heath Bank and the boy not being admitted to a specialized school. The woman on the other side of the line was pretty much yelling at him before he called her “love” and hung up. Vicky.

Thinking back all those months ago, I remembered him telling me about being separated from his wife. Seems like things had really improved for them.

“Ma’am, could I talk with you for a second?” I asked Julia when we arrived at our floor and she replied with a quick nod.

“So, what did you wish to talk to me about Alma?” She wondered, closing the door to her office. “Are you having difficulties finding time for your thesis?”

“No, Julia, that’s working out well, actually,” I quickly replied, taking a seat in front of her. “I was just wondering if you could perhaps help out Sergeant Budd? His son, Charlie, is attending Heath Bank but he’d be better off in a special needs school.”

She looked up at me, confused and curious at the same time. “Why do you care about PS Budd? Do you know each other?” She asked, playing with a pencil.

“No, not really. We’ve sometimes shared a cup of tea during our breaks these past few days. Nothing more,” I explained, lying through my teeth about the tea and the chatting, but Julia seemed convinced as she nodded.

“Alright, Alma, I’ll see what I can do,” she agreed and I took it as a cue to get up. “Take my personal advice, Alma, never let yourself depend on a man.”

“Thank you! And rest assured, it’s not like, Julia,” I reassured her, making my way to door.

It was exactlylike that.

I walked back to my desk and started working on the mission I had been assigned: Middle Eastern countries were taking the RIPA-18 personally, and the Homeland Office figured a Memorandum of Understanding was perhaps the way to go.

After a while, I let my gaze wander around. First on Budd, who was standing by the wall, still as always. And then at the guy from Security Services, Stephen something, who entered Julia’s office without knocking. Something was off.

I didn’t find out until later that there had been an attack near the Heath Bank Primary School. Budd had left early with Julia, so I didn’t get to talk to him after I’d received the information.

After work that evening, I purposefully took the wrong tub line. I didn’t want to go home. I felt scared, and mad, and helpless. But most of all, I didn’t know why I kept thinking of Budd and his kids, when police officers literally died in the attack today.

Getting out of the tub, I got two Subway sandwiches before making my way to a building I rarely ever went to.

Disappointed at my own behavior, I nevertheless knocked on the door. Seconds later, James answered. “It’s not Wednesday, but I could do with some extra fucking,” I explained, being blatantly honest.

-----

Julia now had daily meetings with Anne Sampson, Mike Travis and Stephen Weirdname. I wasn’t allowed to attend, of course, but I knew they were talking about a possible connection between the 1/10 train attack and the Heath Bank School bomb.

Looking at them through the glass walls, I finally realized something. Dave was the officer from the 1/10. That was the only possible explanation for the targeting of that particular school.

It also meant that the person who had manufactured the bomb for the train was the same one as the for the school. Which only left two options: Either the husband had hidden the bombs somewhere for his friends to use, or the person who did them was still at large.

I desperately wanted to talk with Budd but Julia told me he had been assigned to desk duty for the time being. I didn’t even know what I’d say, but I needed to say something. Maybe something along the lines of “yes, I was a hypocrite, holding your hand during the interview and yet specializing in the law of war, sorry”. Most of all, I just wanted to know if he was okay.

Today was Wednesday, which meant that not only would I get free dinner but also James’ company. I knew he liked me, and I knew I could learn to like him too. After all, we both studied law and he was now a public defender, so we did have some stuff in common. That ought to be enough.

----

“I think we should watch ‘Mindhunter’,” James suggested browsing over my Netflix library as I laid out the Chinese food containers in front of us.

“Maybe we could try something more lighthearted? I’m done with murder,” I whispered the last part but I knew he’d heard it, considering how close we were sitting. “You know, put on ‘Mindhunter’, it’s not like we’re really going to pay attention,” I added flirtingly.

“No ma’am, your wishes are my orders,” James laughed, putting on season 3 of ‘The good place’.

Thirty minutes later, the show was long forgotten and James and I were making out on the sofa. Maybe it was the number of ex-girlfriends he has had, but he knew just where to kiss me. Besides, he was the most unproblematic person I knew. I looked down at him while he was kissing my chest and I tried to make myself fall in love with him. Before I could see if that worked, there was a knock on the door and we both stopped abruptly.

“Are you expecting someone?” James asked, panting and passing me my shirt.

“Not really,” I admitted.

I made sure to do at least the first couple of buttons of my shirt before opening the door. It was Budd. Dave, I mean.

“Good evening, Alma.” His Scottish accent lighthearted before his eyebrows crunched up when he saw my wild hair and half-buttoned shirt.

“Oh hey, David,” I greeted him, frankly embarrassed at the situation. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Suddenly, I felt James’ hand on my waist. “Hello David, I’m James, Alma’s friend,” he introduced himself, stretching out the last word. He then extended his hand which David took only hesitantly.

“Aye, cheers James,” David exclaimed, shaking James’ hand for much longer than was necessary.

I

cleared my throat, finally regaining their attention. “Why don’t you come on in, David? James was just leaving.” James seemed confused but at my insisting glare, he grabbed his coat nonetheless.

“You owe me another non-Wednesday,” he whispered sneakily into my ear before disappearing.

I led James to the living room and tried to clean up the mess from dinner. David looked at the couch hesitantly before taking a seat. “So, how did you meet James?”

“Oh,” I blurted out, quite flushed, as I looked for the draft of my thesis. “He did his Erasmus semester in my university in Portugal and we hooked up,” I went on without thinking, finally sliding the document under the bed and realized what I’d just said. “Sorry, that was too much information,” I said sheepishly, stating the obvious. David didn’t reply.

“So, hum, what are you doing here?” I asked after a while, sitting down on the arm of the sofa where all my clothes were lying in a mess.

David closed his eyes tightly before rubbing his temple. “I wanted to thank you.”

“On what grounds?” I came back from the kitchen with two glasses of soda, handing him one.

“I know it was you who got the Home Office Secretary to put in a good word about Charlie.” Dave was smiling now, a rare sight on him.

“It was my way of apologizing for being a hypocrite,” I admitted and Dave nodded slightly, implicitly accepting my excuses. “How is your family coping?”

“They’re under some stress but at least now I know they’re in the Safe House, so that good.” He explained before an awkward silence invaded my flat again. “Actually, I should be heading back, it’s late.”

I accompanied him to the door, somewhat disappointed at having him leave so soon. “Good night, Alma,” he whispered before bending down and kissing my cheek.

-----

The next few days were better. Dave was no longer pissed at me and I got to see him every day. He even smiled a little each time our eyes met.

But what really held my attention was seeing Stephen come to meet Julia so often, one-on-one. Not even Mike Travis was allowed in the office. I knew it was none of my business, but considering it was the Home Office, I was pretty sure they weren’t talking about Hillary not wanting to vaccinate her child. This was something important, something big.

I was still making up a dozen of theories in my head, when Julia knocked on my door.

“Yes?” I replied, getting up quickly.

“This is usually a no-go for interns and you won’t be able to assist most of time, but do you want to join me for the meeting at 10 Downing Street?” She offered, a small grin on her face knowing I’d certainly accept.

I was very surprised she’d offer something like that, but there was no way I’d refuse. “Of course, Ma’am, thank you for the offer. Let me grab my coat.”

The drive was silent, as it mostly was but this time I felt comfortable. Journalists shouted questions at Julia as we made our way inside the house and I was disappointed not to spot Larry the cat.

As predicted, I only got to be present during the first fifteen minutes where the cabinet didn’t talk about anything truly important or confidential. Afterwards, the staff led me to the room next door, the anti-chamberthey called it, which turned out to be library. And there was Larry!

“Come here boy,” I called him over cheerfully, tapping on my thighs so he would come to me.

-----

“You’re full of cat hair,” Julia commented when we were back in the car. “I take it, you found Larry?” She chuckled.

“Yes, Chief Mouser was of very good company, indeed,” I spoke in a very posh manner and everyone laughed. It then transitioned into Julia talking about Mia, the cat she used to have while she was college.

Suddenly, there was a loud noise and shards of glass flew everywhere. Before I could make out what was happening, more shots flew in and Terry was hit in the head. “Down, down!”, Dave shouted. Julia screamed loudly.

I took off my belt and tried to grab her hands but she was just shaking so much. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Dave grabbing the steering wheel, he was tetanized. I quickly scanned him over, his blood covered silhouette freaking me out. He wasn’t injured, thank God. “It’s okay, Ma’am,” Dave said, trying to reassure Julia.

Dave crashed the car and my the back of my head hit the car’s door with a loud thump. My vision became somewhat dizzy but then Dave’s hand searched for mine, squeezed it tight and looked at me with worry in his eyes. “Alma, it’s okay!” He shouted over the bullets before speaking unintelligibly on the radio. “The bullets can pierce through the windows, but they can’t go through the armored metal!” He reassured the both of us before continuing stressfully speaking on the radio, trying to reassure us at the same time.

“Two minutes!”, he announced before they started shooting at us again. The shots were too loud, the noise was intolerable. I searched the pockets of my coat with trembling hands, trying to find my noise-cancelling headphones in order not to panic but before I could, Dave opened his door and exited the car.

“Fuck!”, I shouted, not able to control my feelings before talking. My loud shout seemed to scare Julia even further. “Julia, everything is under control, okay? Less than two minutes,” I repeated Dave’s information, whispering softly, hoping she would hear me through all the commotion. I wanted to hold her hand, but then I noticed mine were covered in blood, my blood. It was coming from my ears. Shit, not again.

Without a warning, Dave opened the driver’s door and pulled out Terry’s body. “Are you fine, Alma?” He asked worriedly, turning on the engine and putting it on reverse. Bullets kept hitting the car’s roof.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I questioned but David didn’t answer, instead the car went to a stop in front of the Pascoe House.

“He won’t have a clear sight here,” Dave explained before grabbing a machine gun out of nowhere. “You’ll be fine,” he said one last time and then exited the car and went straight inside the building. I tried opening my door, go after him but my blood covered hands couldn’t grab the handle.  And then I remembered that the backdoors were always locked. Shit!

Julia was sobbing and shaking more each time she noticed all the blood on her white suit. I wanted to help her, help him but the pain in my ears was too much. Too much noise again, it felt like I could hear everything. And then I heard another gunshot. Please, let it not be him.

A few minutes after that, the medics arrived but I didn’t see Dave again. “Miss, we’re taking you to the hospital.” A kind woman who had just excited the ambulance was tending to me, reassuring me but my mind was elsewhere.

“Where’s Dave?” I asked, or rather screeched as she tried to touch me. I pulled away from her, looking everywhere around me, trying to find him.

“Who’s that?” She wondered, getting somewhat impatient now as she forcefully dragged me inside the ambulance.

“Julia’s bodyguard, PS Budd,” I replied, my voice shaking as the doors closed in on us and the ambulance started moving.

“Miss, you have ruptured eardrums. I’m Georgie Garer, and we’re going to take care of you,” she promised as if my true worry was the blood still oozing out of my ears.

As soon as we arrived at the hospital, an otorhinolaryngologist started tending to my ears. It hurt, but not as much as the first time it happened.

“Is this the first time you’ve had ruptured eardrums,” he asked, cleaning out the rest of the blood with cotton swabs.

“No, it’s third time, or fourth, I can’t remember,” I replied, not really focusing on the current situation. “Look, I know to handle this, so if you could just patch me up real quick and let me go home, that would be perfect.”

The old man chuckled but didn’t stop what he was doing. “You didn’t lose your hearing, so that’s good news. But you did lose quite a lot of blood so you will need a transfusion, miss,” he informed me.

-----

I was alone in my hospital room and the blood bag was practically empty now. I wanted to grab my phone but they had placed my bag on the chair against the wall and I couldn’t reach it. Careful not to pull out any needles, I slid off the bed and tried finding balance on my feet, keeping one hand on the bed just in case.

Just as I was looking for my phone inside my messy bag, someone knocked on the door. I didn’t bother turning around even though I knew I flashing them my butt through the hospital gown. “If you’re a nurse, I’m fine, okay. I just wanted to get my phone and organize myself a ride home.”

“Alma, it’s me,” Dave’s Scottish accent reached my ears and it didn’t cause any pain, quite the opposite.

“Dave, are you okay?” I entreated, quickly turning on myself so I could see him, and almost ripping one of the needles in the process. He seemed fine, he was now wearing a fresh suit and apart from a few cuts here and there, he was unblemished. But I knew the worst pains weren’t physical.

I finally dared looking at his face and he seemed in agony as he stared at me in my hospital gown. I slowly made my way over to him until I was just a few inches away from his body, and then I hugged him. “Thank you,” I whimpered, relieved at finally seeing him again.

To my dismay, he didn’t hug me back. Instead, he cleared his throat and carefully pushed me away from him. “The Police now think you’re a possible target and the Home Office Secretary asked for me to be assigned to you, for the time being.” His voice was professional and cold, every ounce of our growing friendship disappearing into thin air.

“How is she?” I asked, sitting back down on the bed as I became dizzy again.

“She was brought to a hotel,” Dave said, still by the door. “That’s where I’m taking you now.”

After this minimalistic exchange, David called for nurse to take off my needles and they let me leave with him after I signed my discharge papers. As we were exiting the floor, a nurse stopped us and addressed Dave: “You are not to leave her alone for the next couple of days, especially at night. In case there’s any more blood, you need to bring her to us.” The woman said hurriedly, but Dave just nodded.

Now in the car, Dave turned on the heat. He’d probably noticed that I was still shaking a little. “I’m not going to the hotel,” I chirped in a small, out of the blue, not looking at him.

“What?” He blurted out with agitation as he pulled out of the parking place. His exterior appeared calm, but I knew that inside he was in a turmoil.

“I want to sleep in my own bed, tonight,” I explained softly. I didn’t want to piss him off, but I needed to find myself in a familiar place. “Just tonight, David. Please.”

Without bothering to reply to my request. David spoke on the radio. “Seven-Nine. Change of plans. Flapper homebound.” I couldn’t hear what the person said but David did take the road leading to my place. “This is just for tonight, Alma,” he spoke seriously, like warning me. “Tomorrow night, I want you in the hotel.”

-----

We arrived at my flat which thankfully was less messy than usually. David was carrying a small duffel bag, most likely with fresh clothes and personal items since he’d expected to sleep in the hotel where Julia was.

“I’m going to take a shower,” I announced the very second he closed the door behind ourselves. “You go and make yourself at home.”

I walked to the bathroom and closed the door behind myself. Looking in the mirror, I was happy to notice I wasn’t hurt, at least not much. Apart from a large bruise on my arm and shoulder from when our car crashed into the other one, and the ears, obviously, I was as good as new. My hair was a mess though, it was caked with so much blood it looked auburn rather than usual cool brown.

I stepped into the shower and let the water wash away the stress. I realized I’d have to call my parents, let them know I was fine, but I decided I’d just do it tomorrow.

I stepped out of the bathroom dressed in nothing more than a towel, since I’d forgotten to take my night clothes with me. Entering the main room, I saw David silently lying on the couch in a t-shirt and black boxers, completely ignoring me.

“Oh, come on, David,” I sighed, rather impatient and disappointed at this. “You saved my life today, I’m not going to make you sleep on an old, small couch. Just hop on the bed,” I ordered, rummaging through some drawers to find some clean underwear. He didn’t budge.

I made my way back to the bathroom again, this time not looking at him because I couldn’t handle how good he looked dressed like that. “If you’re not in the bed when I come out, I’ll be pissed,” I warned, knowing full well that I had no authority to order him around.

To my surprise, considering I hadn’t heard any footsteps, Dave was lying on the edge of the bed when I returned. Sighing, I entered through the other side, taking my contraceptive pill with some water.

“Shit, I forgot to ask,” I spoke out loud without realizing. “Do you want to eat or drink something?” David didn’t answer, and I lied down next to him in complete silence. “Are you okay?” The moment I asked that, I knew I had messed up.

“No, love, I’m not okay,” he yelled and my ears hurt. “You almost got killed today, under my watch!” He was aggravated, now pulling the bed covers away from him, in an attempt to get up. Without thinking, I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back to bed, pinning him down with my hands and straddled him, trying to ignore the ambiguity of the situation.

“But I did not,” I stated with authority, out of breath for some reason. “I’m okay, David,” I now whispered reassuringly as he slowly calmed down. “My eardrums rupture every once in a while. Last time it was at a concert. I’m okay, David.” As I tried to disentangle myself from him, David pulled himself up and kissed me, out of nowhere. Our crotches rubbed together in this new position and we both let out an involuntary moan. Before I had time to process what was happening, Dave was sliding the strap of my sports bra off my shoulder, my skin erupting in goosebumps beneath his touch.

He then softly kissed the bruise on my shoulder, simultaneously moving his hips beneath mine. Running on instinct, I removed his lips from my body and brought my tongue to his jaw, slowly licking it in a straight line until I reached his earlobe to nibble on it. The groan which came deep from within his chest enticed my hands to wander down his t-shirt before forcefully taking it off him. He did the same thing with my bra before rolling us around so that I was now captive beneath his body.

Without saying anything, we removed the last pieces of clothes and our bodies connected with each other. My hands brushed the scars on his back and he shivered, stopping for a moment. I didn’t, I couldn’t let him know how much it pained me to feel those crevasses on his skin, this was a conversation for some other time. I forced myself to continue and kissed him harder than before, prompting him to continue.

It felt even better than all these months ago. Perhaps it was because I now knew him better, because I knew he had put his life on the line to save mine or because the both of us could have died today. Reaching our peaks, I was aware I’d get some dirty looks from our neighbors later but I didn’t have the heart to care.

Still panting, Dave lied now next to me, his head resting on my naked breasts. “Thank you, love,” he whispered. I wanted to ask what for but decided against it and just let those words hang in the air. Instead, I placed a peck on his forehead and we called it a night.

Astral Sex by Harrison Kim https://ift.tt/3kQA5cX Seventeen-year-old Matthew has an out-of-body sexual experience that gives him a new perspective; by Harrison Kim. 

It's midnight, I'm in Bonnie's apartment, I'm seventeen years old and she's a mature woman who wants astral sex, she's lying on her back in her bikini underwear. I'm on my side, my stomach, I'm flipping like a porpoise. Bonnie's going for soul travel, the ultimate high, she says. I have a hard time holding back, viewing the sheen of her legs against the moon light from the window, "Matthew, we have to breathe in and breathe out slowly," she says. "When we hear a loud bang, that's when our souls leave our bodies, right through the middle of our foreheads." She continues "I've made physical love with many men, but this is a spiritual calling. If I get pregnant with astral intercourse, I'll be like Mother Mary," she laughs. "We're both spiritual sex virgins, Matthew. That's a real turn-on for me." "Pregnancy?" I pushed that out of my head. My teenage mind had room for nothing but lust.

We met as I rested by my bicycle outside Winfield Hall following my debacle premiere at the Okanagan composers' contest. I'd cycled a hundred kilometres to Kelowna, camped overnight in a baseball stadium in preparation for the event. I entered a song called "Throwback," about a small-town kid who because of his quirks and differences is doomed to work forever in a fast food restaurant. "We liked your song," Judge Simone Jeanne said in her written assessment, "Though it's not really our style." However, she invited me down to Kelowna, to the shindig in Winfield Hall. "Bring your guitar." "You'll have a chance to be completely on your own," my Mom said. "It'll be a character-building experience." At the time, I had no idea Simone offered this gesture out of misplaced politeness. I bicycled far above Okanagan Lake, on a curving road, my guitar balanced on my back carrier, apple blossoms falling, the scent of pine trees whirling on wind from the south. I hummed my contest song all the way, 'Throwback, get back, you're gonna work at doing dishes 'til you die." At Winfield Hall, I discovered all the other performers were classically trained musical experts. They played intricate original compositions on piano and wind instruments. I knew ten guitar chords, and couldn't change them very fast. Aged, jade necklace wearing Simone insisted I perform. "Let's give you a chance," she told me, her green rocks shining. "You've come all this way." The crowd of mostly older ladies clapped. "Presenting Matt Andrucci and his guitar." A slim short haired woman with cat's eye glasses and very short hair watched me. "Go on," she sang out as I walked to the stage with my twenty-five dollar instrument, its sides held together with beige duct tape. "Push out your energy." My energy did not push. After five minutes of sitting and tuning and retuning my patched up sound machine in front of the thirty or so attendees, I stood up, waved goodbye and stumbled offstage. "Just doesn't sound right," I shouted, sidling towards the exit, exhausted from riding and not getting enough sleep, disappointed in myself and my failure to launch. I heard a few polite claps as I slid through the door to the fresh air and folded myself down under a poplar tree. "I want to talk with you a moment," The cat's eye lady ran out after me. "I can tell you have spiritual potential." She appeared nervous and thin and she smiled so wide all her teeth showed up past the gums. "Okay," I said. "We can talk under this tree." "Like the Buddha," she grinned. "I'm Bonnie, also with a B. my favourite musical note." Through the half-open windows I heard the next performer beginning a Bach-like organ drone. Bonnie talked fast, the cadence in her voice moving along with the serious music. "I know intuitively who is my match," she said. "I know I met you before in a previous universe. Do you believe in previous universes?" I told her I'd read a couple of books by the Zen monk Lobsang Rampa who used to be an Irish Priest but he had some kind of astral cord soul fusion operation with a Zen Master's body. "It's surprising that his books are in the school library," I said. "I've read all Lobsang's books too!" Bonnie enthused. "It's hard to find anyone who knows about him. You must be quite a different type of boy." She was right. I didn't participate in team sports or school clubs or parties. My Mom said, "If all you do is sit around reading those weird books, you're going to end up a dishwasher."

Bonnie saw me cycling in up the hill as she drove in. "I sensed you as an old soul in a young body," she said, "such courage and leg muscles, to pedal so far from your comfort zone only to embrace disappointment." "My song was no good," I said. "It was about a nerdy boy stuck working in a fast food restaurant." "It was a true song," Bonnie told me. "I heard the recording, and it made me cry." "Really?" I said. "It sounded sad?" I looked at her face. There were lines and angles of chin and cheek. Bonnie wasn't sculpted flawless, like Sandra Washington, the girl at school I crushed on, Bonnie was kinda bony, her hair tucked round her rather large ears. Her rhythmic breathing drew me in; as she spoke she whispered, and told me compliments with every utterance, like, "You seem to have a knowledge far beyond your years, young man." How could she like me so much when she didn't even know me? "But I did know you," she said. "As my lover in a previous existence," she laughed out loud and put her hand across my mouth. "Don't say anything skeptical!" I didn't argue, it was rare to be so attended to, and now, a few hours later, here we were in her bed, her hand on mine, waiting for our souls to be set free with astral sex. She hummed a sound, "Huuuu," and again, "Huuuu," and began exercising her legs. I asked "What's that hum you do?" and she told me, "That's the highest sound in the Universe." "Is that higher than Om?" I asked. "I always thought that Om was highest." My mouth was so dry my words cracked. Bonnie's long legs moved up and down against mine. My eyes bulged. "'Huuuu' is the number one sound for soul travel," she whispered, and maybe it was that whisper of the hu, because I heard a bang, right from the top of my head. I'd felt shifts as we lay in the bed, my soul moving jelly like inside my skin, kind of a blue light shimmering atop my chest, but this was a very assertive pop. I'd wanted release so bad and now I floated outside my body, looking down at it lying there on Bonnie's bed. Bonnie stared right up at me, and then I heard another pop, more like a boom. A mix of light and dark shimmered out of her face, billowed up and formed a human shape beside me. "Hey, how's it going?" is what I heard and there was a lithe and much younger looking Bonnie floating right there. "It's just like when we met the first time," she said; she spoke telepathically, I didn't hear her words as much as see images. "Way back two thousand years ago." "I don't remember," I said. She did seem to be channelling Sandra Washington's look, in fact as I watched her she formed into a very close Sandra replica. "I can be anyone you want me to be," she said. "Is this good?" "It is," I said. "Who do I look like to you?" Bonnie laughed and merged her body with mine, her soul legs moving through my soul chest. Fuzzy blue sparks buzzed, we moved and slid up there in the astral plane, our souls lifted fast as elevators. I heard the tone of "Huuuu" all round me. Our bed shrank back as we burst through the apartment roof and tumbled together up beyond and above the lake. We merged again gazing down at the darkness below, parted by lights all sparkling along the town shore, until things blackened again along the dark tops of trees along the mountains.

That wasn't what I expected when we ate together earlier at Veggie Pro cafe. "I am really hoping Mike sees us," Bonnie smiled behind her wine glass and I asked "Who's Mike?" "That's my ex." "Oh," I said "What does he look like?" "You'll know," she said. "A guy with a ski-jump nose and a beard. He's boasting to me about all the young girls he's seeing. He's probably with one now." She smiled. "I want to show him I can do that too, with a cute young guy of course." I stood up nervously, headed to the bathroom to check my profile in the mirror and make sure Mike wasn't anywhere around. I examined my reflection, checked for pimples, then walked back to Bonnie, vigilant for bearded men. "He's not in the bathroom," I announced. "Mike always comes back to me." She took a big gulp of wine, and poured me another glass. "On his knees. You're never too young for Pinot Noir," she said. We ate gluten free vegetarian. Bonnie talked about her job as a music therapist. "I don't have all my credentials, but I have a few contracts. Would you like to come back to my apartment and hear my mandolin?" "I like the mandolin," I said. She asked if I had a girlfriend. I told her about my crush on Sandra Washington. "I can channel her," she smiled, and rubbed my foot with hers.

A few hours later, way up above the shimmering astral lake, Bonnie morphed into teenage form, appropriating Sandra's long black hair and shiny young skin. I took her into my soul, or so it seemed, we were bodies within bodies thrashing around in the heavens, the mountains rocking and the lake tilting all around our sexy universe. Then I discovered her on top of me in the bed moaning, her hands all down my back and shoulders, as I ran my fingers along her arms. "Oh no!" she exclaimed. "The earth's moved back under us." But she kept moving, she did not stop. In my opinion all seemed well, here we were, on earth again doing it conventional style and at this time sex was all new to me, both the terrestrial and the astral versions. As we lay spent on the bed, Bonnie stated in a low voice "You're very grounded to the physical. You bought us back with your teenage lust." "I heard that sound, 'Huuuu'," I told her. "It was all down my stomach and legs." "Mine too," she said. "I think we may have reached the highest level, just for a few seconds." We rolled out of bed round five as the sun came up. As soon as I stood, my tiredness returned. "I'll drive you and your bike downtown," Bonnie offered. "We'll put everything in the pickup like yesterday." "I think I might sleep a few hours on the side of the highway," I told her. It felt like I wasn't truly in my body, that my soul still lingered up above the astral lake. I felt dazed all day, and pedalled the hundred kilometres back home like an automaton, where I slept twelve hours straight.

Back at school, I daydreamed all day through my classes, I couldn't stop thinking about the astral sex. Sandra Washington walked towards me down the hall. She handed me a note and the note said, "I dreamed about you." "That's great," I said, without smiling. She tightened her lips. "You act as if it's normal," she said. "I think you're a trifle conceited, Matthew." I couldn't tell her I had this soul merge experience, sex in the sky, sliding all over a thirty year old woman's body in a big bed; I looked in Sandra's eyes and imagined her as Bonnie. Daydreams of Bonnie counted now, how she bought me that "Huuuu," and the feeling of intersections and penetrations and the worthiness of being on display. I couldn't study or think; I didn't even know her phone number but I might perhaps remember where she lived. "Do you want a game of one on one basketball?" I asked Sandra, as she stood there and I held her note. "That would be okay," she said, "Except I've never seen you play the game." "I just want to play like a normal kid," I said.

I convinced my Mom I needed to return to Kelowna for a few days and talk to concert judge Jeanne Simone about music lessons. "I want to learn the mandolin," I told Mom. "You're pretty preoccupied these days," she replied. "I'll drive you there." "No no no," I insisted. "I'll take the bus and save you the time and inconvenience."

Jeanne Simone told me, "Bonnie's always been a bit different," but wouldn't give me her phone number. I spent all day searching for her apartment, wandering along the lake; the hours flew by. I absentmindedly gave ten dollars to a panhandler, then found I didn't have enough money for the bus home. I hitchhiked. I couldn't catch a ride all the way back so I slept overnight behind a 24-hour laundromat. I wasn't coping well with the real world. A number of months later I shopped in Kelowna's Orchard Park mall with my friend Keith. We stopped at a music store, spent time trying out all the guitars and synths. Then I saw Bonnie playing a dobro over in the string section, singing with a tall thin black bearded ski-jump nosed man. "Must be Mike," I thought. Bonnie stopped playing and stood up. I noticed a big baby bulge. "See that pregnant lady?" I said to Keith. "Kid could be mine." "Huh?" he said, his chipmunk shaped face turning my way. "That's the older woman I told you about." I said. "Bonnie. The one I had astral sex with." Keith stared for a moment. "Then It could be an astral baby," he stated. Bonnie glanced up, then looked directly at me. I pulled my cap way down over my face and sidled hunched over, creeping towards the door like I did at that concert where I never fit in. "Yeah, maybe the kid'll be another Jesus Christ," I said to Keith. As I passed Bonnie I tipped my hat and smiled large. "Hi," I said. "Do you remember me?" She shook her head and mouthed, "No." Mike stared. "Hi," he said. "Do I know you from somewhere?" "Oh, sorry," I answered. "I mistook you both for rock stars." Bonnie smiled, and played some more rhythm on the dobro. I followed Keith into the afternoon heat. My next dishwashing shift at Hannigan's Burger King began in a few hours. We had to drive back home so I could begin my work on time. "I won't be living my sad sack 'Throwback' life much longer," I told Keith as we hopped in his van. "That's not the actual world." "What is the actual world?" asked Keith. "The one Bonnie showed me," I told him. "Above in the astral, man." I glanced back. Bonnie played at the music shop window, looking away from the outside. "I'm going into music full time," I told Keith. "Well, you do play a few chords not too bad," he agreed. In about thirty years I'll know the holy truth about Bonnie's child. In the meantime, I'll be a dreamer shaping my own reality, practicing, playing, and trying to reach the stars.

What Goes Around - Part 1

Pairings: Lucifer x You

Warnings: Possible past season spoilers.

Author’s Note: Hi all! I apologize for my absence, but I was studying for a big test for the past few months. Good news: I passed with flying colors! Now that that’s over, I can devote more time to writing and hope to update this blog about twice a week. 

This series is going to be a bit slower paced and longer, but I think it’ll be worth it. Also, I gave “You” a name, to make this story more uniform and also so that I don’t have to writte “Y/N” every three seconds :) Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. As always: thank you for reading! Without any further ado, let’s begin!

The brothers Winchester sat at the table by the stairs quietly, both absorbed in their respective books. A laptop sat on the thick wooden surface, surrounded by random sheets of a paper, more books, empty fast food containers, and empty beer bottles.

Dean grunted suddenly and slammed the book down on the table, making Sam look up in surprise. The elder Winchester rose from the table and began to stalk out of the room.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked.

“To buy more beer,” Dean growled. “We’re out.”

“There’s more in the garage.”

Dean scowled at his younger brother. “Well then I’m going for a drive. Need to clear my head.”

“What about-”

“What about what, Sam?” Dean snapped. “Mom is in that other place with the damn Devil, Cas is dead, Crowley is dead, and we’ve got the literal spawn of Satan locked up in the dungeon! We’ve been pouring through these books for days trying to figure out some way of getting Mom back, but I haven’t seen anything that even remotely comes close to what we need. So yeah, I’m going out for a bit to clear my head. I’ll be back soon.”

Sam gave him a pitying look and nodded, but Dean had already turned away. He knew his elder brother was taking Mom’s absence really hard. Something about going into her dreams and telling her he hated her. So many things had happened the night Jack had exploded into the world and it was hard to sort out his feelings about things. So far, Dean hadn’t even been to see the Antichrist, but Sam had been several times.

At first Sam had been wary of the half-human/half-archangel hybrid, but the kid had seemed vulnerable and scared. Sam realized that Jack could very well just be faking, but the kid was a grade A actor if he was. Sam had given the boy a few books to read, as well as brought him all his meals. He also talked to Jack, telling him about this world and about his mother. Sam tried to steer clear of the topic of Lucifer, but Jack knew who his father was and what he himself was supposed to do to the world. He told Sam that he didn’t want to scorch the planet, he wanted to bring peace and harmony to it. Sam wasn’t so sure he believed it just yet though. Lucifer had been an amazing liar and it was a trait he might very well have passed to his son. Still, Sam didn’t hate the boy as Dean seemed to. In fact, he was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, they could raise the boy to be good instead of to bring humankind to its knees.

 Dean drove around aimlessly, trying to rid his head of the terrible thoughts he had had since his mother vanished through the portal to the alternate universe. He tried not to think of all the terrible things Lucifer was doing to her right now, at this very moment, but the thoughts ran through his head nonstop like a battering ram. Dean had been tortured at the hands of a very skilled demon for over 40 years and Sam had been tortured by Lucifer himself. They both knew what their mother was most likely going through and Dean could not concentrate on anything else, not even the death of his best friend.

Cas had died at the hands of Lucifer and Dean would never be the same. That angel, that stupid, idiotic angel had saved his life so many times. He had literally raised Dean from Perdition and Dean could not do a thing to prevent his downfall. Lucifer plunged an angel blade into his back and laughed. The monster had laughed about it! Dean was going to kill the bastard for everything that he had done and if his mother was hurt in any way, shape, or form, Dean would make his death last years.

 “Hey, I think I found something!” Sam said suddenly. It had been a few days since Dean’s outburst, and things had gone back to normal. Well, as normal as they could be. They were researching at all hours, except to sleep, eat, or bring Jack some food in Sam’s case.

Dean looked up, his eyes blurry from lack of sleep. “What is it?”

“It’s a footnote. A name. In A Historia de Caelo, which translates to A History of the Heavens. It’s old. One of the oldest books in the library. I thought there might be something in here about alternate universes.”

“Is there?”

Sam shook his head. “No. But I was reading up on the history of Lucifer. It really goes in depth. And it makes mention of a fifth archangel.”

Dean perked up immediately. “Fifth archangel? I thought there were only four?”

“So does everyone else.” Sam answered. “But there’s a fifth according to these scripts. Goes by the name of Azrael.”

“Never heard the name before.”

“Me either.” Sam flipped the book so Dean could see. “But the note is there.”

“Interesting. So what else does it say about this Azrael?”

“Nothing. The footnote essentially just says that Azrael and Lucifer were close but they had a falling out.”

“Maybe Lucifer killed him.” Dean suggested.

“I don’t think so.” Sam answered. “The falling out was after Lucifer was already in the Cage. He couldn’t have killed anyone from in there.”

“So where is the fifth archangel now?”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. But at least we have a starting point. With Gabriel and Raphael dead, and Michael still in the Cage, we didn’t have anyone to ask. But maybe Azrael can help us, or at least point us in the right direction.”

“Right,” Dean said. “But how do we get a hold of him?”

Sam looked up. “Pray?”

 You checked your reflection in the rearview mirror, loving the way your flawless cat eye had turned out. You had perfected the look when you were living in Egypt a few hundred years ago, but the style had gone out of fashion and you were nothing if not fashionable. The new way of drawing it was so chic and minimalistic compared to the Egyptians’ way and you loved it. It was sexy and fierce, much like yourself.

You saw a sign up ahead for a gas station and pulled into it. You loved Diet Coke and this was the last gas station for a long ways. That was one of the drawbacks to traveling only by backroads. Sure, you could travel on the highways, but you had traversed each one hundreds of times. Where was the fun in that?

You stepped out of your matte black Maserati, your high heels clicking on the pavement as you approached the door to the convenience store. You saw your reflection in the glass and took a moment to admire yourself. You had been in the vessel for eons and you were still the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. Well…second most beautiful. There was something called the Morningstar afterall.

You saw the clerk behind the counter look you up and down appreciatively and you rolled your eyes. As if. You walked to the coolers in back, yanked a Diet Coke out, and sauntered up to the counter.

“Hey, lil lady.” The clerk drawled. He was in his fifties or sixties, with a greasy comb over and a beer belly. When he spoke, you could see he was missing several teeth.

“Hi,” You replied brightly. “How much do I owe you?”

“Well what’s your hurry?” He asked.

A door to your right opened and another greasy weirdo stepped through. This one complete with a stained white t-shirt. A click caught your attention and you turned back to your left. A third hillbilly nightmare stood in front of the exit, which he had just closed and locked. You turned your gaze back to hillbilly #1, who was smiling in a not so nice way.

You smirked at him, your eyes narrowed. “I suggest you let me and my Diet Coke be on our way, or else you’re not going to like what comes next.”

He guffawed in your face, his rank breath invading your nostrils. “Oh lil lady, I’ll enjoy it very much. But I don’t think you will.”

You sighed, and moved your Diet Coke to a safe location where it wouldn’t get knocked over. You hated flat Diet Coke.

A few minutes later, you walked outside, blinking in the bright blue sunlight. You twisted the cap off your drink, smiling happily as the soda hissed and fizzed at the crack of the seal, but didn’t erupt. You took a large gulp and sighed as the deliciousness flooded your taste buds. This was surely the best thing humans had ever invented.

It was then that you noticed the family of humans standing by the beat-up old minivan, gaping at you with their mouths open. You looked down at your body and saw that you were covered head to toe in blood. You looked back up at the family and smiled your most non-threatening smile.

“Sorry. Papercut. As you can see, it bled a lot. We’re going to be closed while we clean up.” You said.

The family piled back into the minivan quickly and pealed out of the parking lot. You sighed, knowing that they were probably already on the phone with the cops. You did not want to be here when they showed up.

You changed into a spare set of clothes from your suitcase in the trunk, and sped out of the parking lot. You led a transient lifestyle, and always had multiple sets of spare clothes on you. You were almost to the next city when you felt something you hadn’t felt in a thousands of years…someone was praying to you.

Congrats Maranda! We are so excited to have you apply as another character! Your application was great and so detailed and we cannot wait to see your FC of Riz Ahemd as Demetri Rahim come to life on the dash! You know what to do: please follow the checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! And don’t forget to submit an AU description if you want him to be included in our next leg of the AU event!

OOC Information

Name: Maranda

Age: 20

Preferred Pronouns: She/Her

Timezone: EST

Any Triggers: RFP

Level of Activity: I’m still at about a 7 out of 10. But now things have mellowed out for the time, I can be active most evenings for a few hours unless something has come up. But even then I’m going to be on for a while each day.

Anything Else?: Would it be okay if I were to use Riz Ahmed as his face claim instead of the suggested ones?

IC Information

Character’s Given Codename: Astir Real Name: Demetri Rahim Faceclaim: Riz Ahmed, Matthew Daddario, Ansel Elgort,Nico Tortorella Age: 30 Hometown: London, England, United Kingdom Previous Occupation: Trauma Surgeon   Ability: Telekinesis

Description: 

Since he was young, Demetri dreamed of a life better than the one he had. Growing up in the slums of London, he was grateful for all he’d been given. His father, a brilliant man, worked three jobs to keep the lights on and food on the table. His mother did odd jobs, unable to get a career because back in her home country she was not allowed to finish school. In this new life, his parents fought to give them everything they could want. To give them the opportunity they had never had. The oldest of the three, Demetri seemed to grow up fast. Helping his mother the best he could even from a young age. He may have never understood what was going–not fully, but he wanted to help. As he grew, he took on more to help out–watching his younger siblings, keeping the house tidy, making dinner, etc. He knew his parents  hated that he’d taken this world upon his shoulders, but he never minded it.

Demetri a model student in class. He ached to learn as much as he could, spending hours in the library reading and studying. He would leave with a backpack full of books in hopes of learning all he could of what they studied and then some.He was willing to do whatever he could to save himself and this seemed to be the best way out. Sadly, his behavior outside of school was not quite as promising. He hung out with social pariahs– kids down on their luck and taught to fight for what they have. Kids like himself who grew up in the slums and forced to live a life they never wanted. But unlike Demetri they had become a casualties of the slums. They would be caught out late, picking fights with each other, underage drinking, and petty theft was often a past time. Demetri loved the thrill of it even if he was only a bystander–at least to the thievery. He kept his hands mostly clean, but often bruised. His mother cursed him for his fighting, but it never phased him.  He lived for the thrill and if no one, but him got hurt where was the harm? His father never said a word about it. He claimed it his son’s way of breaking free from having to grow up so fast and to get girls–he wasn’t wrong. By the time he was sixteen he had joined one of the local gyms and had taken up boxing–mostly to ease his mother’s worry. Still it didn’t stop him from sneaking out and causing a disruption when he could get the lads together. When he could find the time between the life he lived, the one he helped move along at him, and the one he witnessed with his friends–he would draw. His note books would be bubbling over with drawing that were carefully planned in a passionate drive to create. And by the time he was seventeen–he’d taken to the side of buildings as canvases when the couldn’t afford the money for a new book–borrowing his neighbor’s spray paint to leave his mark on the city and continuing his streak as a public menace.

As the weight of reality began to set in, he found himself falling away from the life he’d created on the streets and focusing more on what awaited him. Demetri graduated with high honors and planned to drive head first into university as quickly as they’d allow. He was the first in his family to go to college, the first to make something of his life and lead the way for future generations. Most of his friends hadn’t graduated–and one never lived to see it. Demetri never learned of the death of his best friend until he was packing his things over the summer. He’d known he’d gone to visit his brother in Ireland, but didn’t know he never made it there. His mother promised it was to protect him, save him from the pain. She knew this pain would keep him from leaving and she couldn’t allow that. But even with as clear of a head as he had–he couldn’t forgive her for that, not yet.

He carried the pain with him as he went to university–part of him wondering what had he’d done if he’d know. He tried not to dwell;  what mattered was what he did next. Knowing that is what his best friend would’ve wanted for him. He always encouraged him to not let anything stop him, this is how he’d honor him. Helping someone had been engraved in his bones so it almost seemed natural for him to go into the medical field. He didn’t want to be the one to find the cure for cancer or work in a simple office–no, he wanted to work with the cases that were often more than met the eye and would give him the chance to help those most couldn’t. Which is what drove him to what to become a surgeon.  It was far harder than the shows made it look, for four years he study tirelessly when he wasn’t bouncing between classes, labs, and his part time job. He was run thin most of the time, running on coffee and cheap food–it wasn’t the life he wanted, but it would get him there. And when the opportunity for him to go to grad school in America–he jumped at the chance. In the land of Freedom and new dreams, he would make his stand.

It was painful to leave the only home he’d ever known behind, swearing to write every chance he got and would call when possible–he somehow survived the long goodbyes at the airport. His new life at Harvard Medical School awaited him. Finally, he was free and life never looked brighter. But the land of milk and honey had gone sour. While he never experienced any trouble at school, the world waiting outside was a much different place. People would stare at him with a glare in their eye, muffled words would fall before he could catch them as strangers “bumped” into him, and other times people were far more blunt with their words. In a country founded up on the ideas of freedom from all that ailed you–he was nothing more to them than an immigrant. A word that stood for hope meant terror to those around him.  It was a new world, but the fight inside of him was greater than ever. He was better than their ignorance and stronger than the hate.

The next four years were far from easy, but he never gave up and after being in the country for five years–Demetri become an American citizen and moved to New York to begin his residency. He made his new home in Brooklyn, a small overpriced studio apartment, the neighbourhood reminding him of the home he left behind. It pushed him harder to make this all work out. When he wasn’t at the hospital, Demetri would fill his time with the friends he’d made at the hospital. He would fall in and out of relationships with girls who never seemed to want more than someone waste a night on, and when he found the time–he’d pick up a book to read or his paints and create. He fell into this flow and found happiness in it. A long term girlfriend, a cat named Chewie, three guys who he would risk his life for, and the long phone calls home to his family. Things seemed to be going right for once and shaping up to be his own American dream.

A year later, he’d finished up his residency and taken the open position as a trauma surgeon at the hospital. But three months into his dream–it’d become a nightmare. The explosion rattled the city, the ER over flowed with people and he spent what felt like days working to help those injured. He knew it would never be simple, but he never signed up for this. When he finally was able to catch a moment to himself, he’d sat in his office. His mind swimming with thoughts. He let his body relax for the first time–he felt weightless. But the moment crashed when his phone rang–and so did he. He opened his eyes to himself floating in his office chair–the whole room, every piece of furniture was floating as if it were tossed out to sea. But as the panic set in–he crashed to the ground along with everything else.  In that moment he knew, the nightmare had only just begun.

Ethos:

Demetri is of a very caring nature. He is very selfless, but that seems to often hurt him instead. He will put others needs before his own. He doesn’t take very good care of himself. He will often forget to eat or sleep, but he does all he can to make sure the ones around him are taken care of and in good health. He doesn’t realize he’s taken such a toll upon himself until it is too late.  Demetri has always been very ambitious. He will stop at nothing, do whatever had can to succeed not matter the cost. Even he as his limitations though. When he fails, he doesn’t take it well and often will take it out on others. He will push people away and often start arguments he can’t win to feel he regain some kind of control in these situations. Instead, he often breaks relationships and shuts himself away for a time.  He has been called a control freak in the past. It is something he’s working, but when the whole world feels as if it’s waiting for him to fail–he can’t always keep a clear head about himself.

interview tape 33300

1# - Got another pile for you captain 2# - seriously rookie, I haven’t gotten past halve-way of the last pile yet 1# - you did say you wanted all the mad bomber sightings brought straight to you 2# - that was before I found out just how many of them I’d be receiving 1# - well surely more information on him is good news? 2# - it would be if any of this were useful.  Leave the papers on the desk and listen to some of these, they have to be heard to be believed 1# - I thought you were working? 2# - I need a break, and with this sheer number of reports 5 minutes won’t kill me.  Besides, going over this from the start will help me clear my head 1# - very well.  What did you mean that all this information is useless?  There must be something? 2# - True there are bits and pieces.  Locally, the hysteria hasn’t helped.  Everything from murder, petty theft, vandalism and a few cases of adultery are all suddenly being blamed on the mad bomber.   1# - so do we know anything about him. 2# - Well I’ve been able to get a reasonably accurate timeline so far.  His first sighting was when he was caught red-handed at that alleyway.  Probably would have been the end of it if he hadn’t escaped the holding cell.   1# - I thought there were anti-magic fields in effect over the precinct? 2# - In the cells sure, but only the negating manacles are used everywhere else.  My current theory is the lawyer who visited him must have had something to help negate his cuffs so when he left he was free to make his move.  I would have more, but I haven’t been able to find the lawyer since then.  I checked his credentials and found they were very similar to one’s we seen involved in mob cases, so it’s likely our bomber has links to the mob families, if not directly working for one.  A few guard reports suggest he was around the library when it was robbed, but his confession at the warehouse proves that he was the one behind it. 1# - what happened to him after that? 2# - Best I was able to find was that after the warehouse exploded he must have made his way into town the next morning.  There’s a couple of conflicting reports but one about a farmer who found a group in his barn seems noteworthy.  He claims he drove to town with some in the back, but when he got to a check point half of them had disappeared.  The descriptions he and his wife gave match those of the guards at the warehouse, and those of a group fleeing from that direction that ran into the reinforcements from the capital.   1# - they didn’t stop them? 2# - they had no idea who they were at the time, but their reports helped us with getting the profiles down.  Then there was the bank incident, which proves our bomber must be something else.  The bank’s anti-magic fields are even stronger than ours, so the fact he was so easily able to cause those explosions means he’s either got incredible magic power to overcome it, some magic artefact that can enable him to bypass it or he’s got connections good enough to let him have authorised access in said field.  No matter what way you look at it, he’s trouble.  After that, the trail gets messed up by all these reports 1# - you think he’s giving us false leads, covering his tracks 2# - I would if any of them were half way intelligent.  I’ve seen it before, whenever something big like this happens.  Part of it is hysteria, people making connections that don’t exist or getting jumpy and acting panicked.  I have a report here that the third town over saw a figure with a flame in its hand looking sinisterly over the town late at night, so they gathered a mob to capture him.  Too bad it turns out it was the local crazy cat lady who lived near there.  One of her pets was missing so she’d gone out with a lantern in hand to look for it and ended up getting jumped 1# - well that must have been embarrassing when they realised, right? 2# - When did I ever say they realised?  They tied her to a tree, stoned her then brought the body here, hoping to cash in the reward 1# - SWEET IOMEDAE! 2# - yeah, and that’s a legitimate one.  The second town over had a guy claim his shop was burned down by the mad bomber as part of an insurance scam.  Would have worked if he’d worn any kind of disguise when he’d bought all the alchemist fire the shops had the day before. 1# - so I guess there’s lots of people who claim they saw him for different reasons 2# - yeah, and there’s just as many trying to claim they are him 1# - WHAT, there is no way anyone has pretended to be the mad bomber.  Why would someone pretend to be a known criminal? 2# - Why don’t you ask Jake Filbar.  He’s a fresh out of mage collage graduate who got drunk and started going around trying to pick up women claiming he was the super badass criminal everyone was talking about.  Too bad for him the woman he offered to “set off his biggest explosion in her beef portal” happened to be an off-duty officer. 1# - wait, I heard about that from the others, I thought it was messier than that 2# - it was.  Turns out the barkeeper had a moonflower distribution ring going on.  When Jake started resisting arrest, he threw around a bunch of weak fire spells and managed to set fire to a hidden stash worth around 6000GP.  We had to cordon off a whole section of the city to deal with the simultaneous fires and the mass rioting cause by the hallucinogenic smoke spewing out of the place.  At least we busted a drug ring out of all that though. 1# - ok, so drunken idiots might pretend to be him, but no sober and sane person would 2# - Kasandra Millientop did.  Used it to try and apply for a magical university 1# - could you repeat yourself, I seem to have misheard you, I thought you said someone applied to a university as a known mad criminal. 2# - from what I gathered she was trying to get her foot in the door.  A lot of these schools tend to be extremely presides and hard for the common people to access.  She hoped by using the name it would get her noticed long enough to show she had the power and skill needed to enter 1# - how did it turn out? 2# - well the old dean decided to be cruel and give her a chance to fail in front of everyone.  So, he positioned himself and the grading panel behind an anti-magic field of his own casting and told her to give him his best shot after all, and I quote “the mad bombers skills are well known to all here.  A field like this should be no problem for you who use his name”. 1# - permission to speak freely   2# - permission granted 1# - the man sounds like a complete ass 2# - yes, he was.  There were some complications, turns out she had been trying to boost the effect of her magic to replicate the mad bomber by mixing gunpowder and alchemist fire, and her first attempt nearly killed herself 1# - poor girl, I can’t imagine the dean would have let her in after that 2# - yes, the old dean wouldn’t have.  Fortunately for her she did succeed the challenge of hitting him through the barrier. 1# - Really, I assumed the deans magic would have been far more powerful than anything she could have cast 2# - Indeed, that barrier would have blocked even the greatest of magical feats the world has ever known.  Fortunately, the spell was made solely to block magical power, and so failed to simple logic and force 1# - you mean she? 2# - Beaned him with a rock, yes.  Coroner’s report says he was dead before he hit the floor.  For a mage that girl has one hell of an arm 1# - wait, she killed him!  Shouldn’t she have been arrested for that? 2# - no one pressed charges, and the new dean apparently approved of her ingenuity.  They enrolled her in their alchemist course and she became the most popular girl at the school from what I hear 1# - so the new dean approved his predecessor’s murders ingenuity 2# - while he was prising the official hat of leadership off his predecessors freshy caved in skull, yes 1# - so all this paperwork and there are no leads, just random stories? 2# - it’s not that cut and dry.  I’m sure at least one of these reports is the real one, but I’m going to have to go over the crazy ones just to find it.  There not all this bad, like for example I just finished going through.  A bunch of poachers were brought in by some druids.  Although it doesn’t initially look like much, there descriptions of some of the adventurers that took them down sounds a lot like the mad bombers gang.  What’s more apparently their wizard got in a commotion with the adventurers spellcaster and they started bouncing fireballs off each other 1# - I’m no wizard, but I don’t think counter spelling works like that.  Surely there must be more to it than that 2# - your right.  At one point the wizard starts yelling out about what spells their group are casting, causing everyone to start shooting at him.  That sure sounds like our mad bombers MO, getting a lot of attention pulled straight towards him while the rest get on with other things.  A couple of leads like that one and we might just pin enough down to find him, or at least get a scrying spell on him 3# - Well, I’m glad to hear the investigation is going well 1# - sir, you’re not supposed to… 2# - stand down rookie, its fine.  Might I introduce you to the guild-master of the order of the white lotus, the adventuring guild we called in to help us with the investigation. 3# - you know captain, when you said you had some leads to investigate I wasn’t quite expecting this much 2# - well that’s the city guard for you, we don’t do anything in half measures 3# - you know dear, you really don’t look to well, have you gotten any food or rest recently 2# - I had a donut with my extra strong coffee at 3AM if that counts 3# - Well this won’t do.  Tell you what, how about you let me have a go with those leads, it is my guild who is supposed to be tracking him down after all.  Why don’t you take the rookie to the canteen and finish your stories there? 2# - thank you!  But I couldn’t possibly leave all this to you to finish by yourself, it’s far too…. 3# - you don’t get to my position in life without learning a few tricks to deal with paperwork, no go get some rest and unwind, leave finding this bomber to me 1# - thank you sir, that’s very generous 3# - come on rookie, I’ll tell you the one about the bomber and the teacup …… 3# - yes, you don’t get to this position without learning to deal with paperwork [whoosh] 3# - there, all ‘finished’.  It’s my job to ‘track’ you down, and when I do I’m going to wring your neck for all the trouble you’ve caused me.  And to think I left him to keep a track of the others, what was I thinking