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cherryxhaze · 4 months ago

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One Step Away From You (Chapter 17)

Eddie Munson x Plus Size Reader

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Chapter Summary: When Eddie takes you to look for apartments in Indianapolis for college, he can no longer fight the fears that come with it or stop them from affecting his mood. WC: 3.2k Warnings: MDNI. A short angsty chapter with fluff and comfort at the end. Explicit language. Eddie's moody in this one. Continuing their growth together. We're getting close to the end of this series and this will be the last of the angst to come! Series taglist: @littlexdeaths @siriusmaraudeers @amandahobblepot @eddie-is-a-god

Sunday, May 18th, 1986

The classifieds section in the latest edition of the Indianapolis Star sits in your lap, red ink circling the multiple destinations on you and Eddie’s agenda for the day. You take a deep, reassuring breath in an attempt to settle the anxiety creeping into your gut as the highway exit for Indianapolis appears, willing excitement and hope to take its place instead.

With your choice to attend Indiana University in the fall solidified, now it’s time to find a place to live and the prospect of living in a dorm does little to excite you. Many of the classified ads for apartments in the paper appeal to the working college student, promising the perfect fit with a close proximity to campus.

“Where to first, babe?” Eddie asks from the driver's seat. With a quick look at the coordinated red markings on the classified ads and map of Indianapolis, the van follows your directions toward the first address.

After a few minutes, the van slows to a stop in front of an apartment building. Outer walls made of faded red bricks rising 5 stories tall, dark fire escape stairs settled near the white edged windows. Nothing fancy, but decent enough to fit the bill. With a quick glance to Eddie, he gives you a tight-lipped smile before you two depart from the van and head inside.

The expectations from the outside coincide with the inside. A one bedroom apartment. The smell of cleaning products provide some relief as you look over the cream colored walls paired with worn cherry wood floors and molding. Slightly dated white appliances match the tile flooring in the small, but adequate kitchen. Big windows fill the rooms with soft sunlight, allowing a view of the heart of the city. Exploring the bedroom and its attached bathroom, you can’t stop yourself from visualizing all your belongings filling the quaint apartment. What you’d put where, how you’d decorate it. Imaging Henny running through it and napping on the windowsill.

Only a mile away from campus, it checks everything off your list.

“I really like this one, it’s practically perfect.” you remark to Eddie as you stand in the bedroom. He follows, giving a quick glance around.

“It’s alright, I guess.” He sighs as if unimpressed, an impression that’s solidified when he doesn’t return the smirk you give him, only continuing to look around and walk back into the living room.

You shrug it off, holding onto the hopeful feeling that comes with the ease of imaging yourself here. With every inch fully explored, you and Eddie return to the van. Making sure to mark a star next to this listing before you’re onto the next stop only another mile away.

The next apartment you have marked is only 2 miles away from the first, and in the short drive it becomes clear the area is less than savory. The whole area seems darker almost, even in the clear light of day. Darker bricks and cement lining the buildings, dirtier sidewalks less populated than the last. Some buildings in clear need of some TLC, while others are completely rundown. Spots of glass are settled on the sidewalks, whether from windows or broken bottles you aren’t sure. The van slows in front of a dark tan building that looks not much different than the ones surrounding it, corresponding numbers to the address you have circled on the exterior by the front door. A double take to the newspaper in your lap confirms it.

“Well… this is it” your voice wavers slightly at the announcement, eyes raking over every crack in the foundation.

“Absolutely not.” Eddie retorts without hesitation, foot resuming on the gas pedal to continue down the street.

“Wh- Eddie! Come on, this is the cheapest place I could find!” You look between your boyfriend and the apartment building now fading behind you.

“Ha. Yeah, no wonder.” He scoffs, voice hard as steel.

“Come on, we didn’t even give it a chance!”

“Oh I gave it a chance, Sweetheart. I don’t need to be worrying every night about my girl getting mugged on your way home from school.” He doesn’t spare you a glance, only a shake of his head with his decision finalized. You recede with a huff, sinking back into the passenger seat. With a couple more listings to see, you hope the rest of them are as decent as the first.

The next address takes you to the outer edges of the city, away from most of the hustle and bustle where there’s more greenery and less of the constant noise found closer to the heart of the city. There’s less apartment buildings and more houses, including the one at the next circled address. It’s clear the house has toughed out many seasons but still emanates a cozy, inviting atmosphere with off-white singles and a small yard. The information in the ad details the house is split into apartments with the shared living space of a kitchen and living room, ideal for college students with the university only a short drive away.

When Eddie shifts the van into park, you barely waste a second climbing out and onto the sidewalk, almost anxious your boyfriend would quickly find something wrong and drive off again. You hear the familiar scuff of his Reebok’s next to you as you both eye the place and the neighborhood.

“You uh, got some big girl job I don’t know about?” You giggle, looking at his features that are scrunched in confusion. “How are you gonna afford renting this whole house?”

“I’m not renting the whole house, Eds. The owner rents out rooms.”

When you look from the house to Eddie again, his eyes are now on you. Only he’s looking at you as if you’ve just spoken to him in another language.

“Nope, no. Too risky.” He argues, curls swinging as his hands move with his words.

“Eddie-”

“You don’t know these people, Y/N. They could be freaks, real freaks!”

In the middle of a deep sigh and roll of your eyes, you spot who you assume to be the owner stepping out from the front door. An older man with salt and pepper hair, hunched over onto the stair railing with a pipe in hand.

“Look, Eds. We’re already here and the owner’s already seen us so let’s just take a look, alright? Please?” you beg exasperatedly with big, bright eyes pleading up at him. He meets them, looking over you before his chest raises with a deep breath, sparing a glance to the old man on the porch watching.

“Alright, fine.”

The owner is friendly enough, ushering the two of you through the well-lived in living room and kitchen that is in need of some light cleaning and personality. After following his slow but steady steps up the stairs, the owner whom you now know as Fred, grumbles towards an open door before leaving you and Eddie to explore the small but amble room on your own.

There’s not much to look at; gray speckled carpet lines the floor of the room and beige flowered paper is glued onto the walls. With a look into the closet, you’re skeptical of its capacity to contain your wardrobe but you’re sure you can make the space work if needed. Though you love the idea of having your own apartment, renting a room out of a house is a cheaper option while still giving you the chance to live with other college students. You can make due.

“Oh, hi!” an unfamiliar husky voice coming from the hallway catches your attention, turning around to spot a tall, tan-skinned, and muscular guy standing in the doorway. “I’m Mark, you?”

“Y/N”

“Eddie”

Mark's gaze only flickers to Eddie for a split second before it’s back on you, flashing his pearly whites.

“I live in the room right at the end of the hall. Are you moving in?” You don’t miss the flirtatious smirk on his nude lips, nor the way his eyes quickly look over your body and neither does Eddie.

“No-” “No.”

You laugh awkwardly as you take in Eddie’s rigid posture that’s now angled toward Mark. The tension hanging in the air between them is nearly visible to the eye.

“I’m just looking right now before the Fall semester.”

“Oh, are you going to Indiana University? I’ll be a Senior there this year myself. What major ar-”

“Well, like she said. We’re just looking right now and I think we’ve seen everything. Right, sweetheart?” Eddie’s voice is cold and features firm as he looks toward you, hand outstretched for you to take with your own. With a stunted breath you grab Eddie’s hand, forcing a smile while he leads you out of the room. You offer Mark a polite wave goodbye as you pass him and follow Eddie right out of the front door.

“Like I said, freaks. No way. That guy was a total creep.” He spits out the final word once you’ve re-entered the van, quick to turn the keys in the ignition.

You exhale and lean back into the clothed seat, deciding to let Eddie take the win on this one too. Out of the three you’ve seen, only one is still a viable option with the list now dwindling. Any rooms for rent or ‘bad’ neighborhoods out of the question, you’re unsure what, if any kind of list will be left by the end of the day.

The sunshine that once illuminated the city now hides behind clouds, peeking through only momentarily as drops of rain splatter onto the van’s windshield. The hope and excitement you had at the beginning of this trip is disappearing with it.

By the time every circled address has been checked off, that hope is a far gone memory with Eddie finding something wrong at every place, nothing was good enough. Though his protectiveness over you and concern for where you’d be living was endearing at first, as you make your way onto the highway back toward Hawkins, it’s downright pissed you off. The light drizzle of rain has now turned into a downpour, the squeak of the windshield wipers rapidly sliding across the glass to keep up with the water is the only sound filling the van beyond the Dio tape playing through the speakers.

You aren’t sure if it’s just you or if the heat filling the van is the cause for your cheeks to burn red hot. Eddie hasn’t said a word since you parted the last apartment on the list and neither have you. Leaving you to ponder what the hell is wrong with him for the whole ride home. His mood has been off from the get-go today, before you even left Forest Hills Trailer park and has remained steadfast till now. You hadn’t expected the way he acted today at all, but what irks you even more is how much his sour mood has leaked into yours, chipping away your excitement bit by bit, listing by listing. Leaving you teetering on the edge of a snippy comment you’d later regret if provoked.

When the van returns to the gravely driveway of Wayne’s trailer, silence continues to permeate the space between you. Following Eddie wordlessly into the trailer, you wonder if you even want to. Considering if you should just return to your trailer, let Eddie sulk in his shitty mood and try to salvage yours. But still, your heart tugs you along after him into the bedroom. You lean against the door frame, watching as he yanks off his vest and jacket to fall on the floor, digging around his drawers for the weed stash.

“Maybe I should spend tonight at home.” You test the waters, watching and waiting for any reaction reminiscent of remorse or guilt, any kind of change from the mood he’s given you today.

“If that’s what you want.” He mutters without meeting your gaze, sitting on the edge of the bed and sprinkling bud into a fresh paper to roll.

Your jaw clenches and you’ve officially been pushed over the edge you’ve walked the last few hours. You fully step into the bedroom and slam the door behind you, finally drawing his attention.

“What I want is to know what the hell has been up with you today?!” you cry out in frustration, but he only looks back down at the weed in his lap.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit you don’t! You’ve been in a bad mood all day, constantly nitpicking and shooting down every single place we saw. I don’t understand!” You take a breath as you read his body language, tense but slouched shoulders with his head hung low. Taking another step closer, your voice comes out softer. “So, please… help me understand, Eddie. What’s wrong, baby?”

The sincere desperation in your plea finally breaks through his walls, his shoulders slumping with it.

“I’m scared, okay.” He admits sheepishly.

“Scared?” You prod, disposition going soft while your eyebrows knit together in confusion as he takes a shaky breath.

“I’ve been able to push down the thoughts about what’s going to happen when you move to Indy and start college for awhile now, but I couldn’t run away from it today. I had to face the reality that you’re leaving and yeah, I know it’s only an hour and a half away but it’s not across the street, or in my bed almost every night.” His own voice betrays him as it cracks toward the end and it feels like a vice grip on your heart, pulling you until the bed dips with your weight next to him.

“And of course, I can’t help but think about what happened the last time you moved. You’ll have a whole ‘nother life there, new friends, shit, maybe you’ll meet some guy like Mark and decide you like him more than me.”

You bite back the retort the bubbles up from your throat, intent on letting Eddie air out all he’s been holding back in this moment of vulnerability. His watery brown eyes look up from his lap to meet yours, effectively putting a lump in your throat and summoning tears to well in your own.

“Tonight on the drive back, you were so quiet and I know it’s because of me, but I couldn’t help but wonder if you were thinking the same thing I’ve been. Wondering if there will be better for you at college, better than me… better without me.”

The grip on your heart tightens with his confession; the worries about your love, the insecurities on his ability to hold yours with the uncertainty of the future. It pains you that they blind him from seeing himself the way you do, from seeing the undying love you have for him. You reach for his hand and interlock your fingers, taking a deep breath as you look over his face with love and admiration.

“Eddie… I can’t act like I know what the future holds but I can tell you this with 100% certainty. I love you, and I can’t see myself falling as hard for anyone else as I have with you.” You search his eyes, seeing the way they soften as he takes in your words. His hand tightens around your own while your thumb gently strokes his skin. Your teeth dig into the sensitive skin of your bottom lip, contemplating making the offer that’s been floating in your head for months.

“And… I um, think there’s a simple solution to all this. All those places we saw today, Eds… they’re big enough for two people.”

His eyes widen with the realization of your offer, body turning to full face yours. Weed tray put off to the side of the bed so he can take both of your hands in his.

“Really? You want me to move with you?” With a nod of your head and a soft smile, one of his own spreads across his face. “I’d follow you anywhere, baby.”

“Eddie,” You breathe out. “I don’t want you to ‘follow’ me. I want you to be with me, you know, build a life together. But I don’t want to get in the way of your dreams, either. If you want to give the rockstar thing another shot then-”

“Sweetheart.” He stops you in your tracks with a dry chuckle and a shake of those dark curls. “Yeah, I could give it another go if I wanted to. Do another demo with the band and try to get signed. Move to LA, maybe even become famous for a few years and hopefully not lose myself in the process. But, I don’t even know if I really want that anymore, especially if it’s not with you.” His tongue darts out to wet his pink lips before he leans in closer to you, holding your undivided attention. “All the dreams I have about my future, you’re always in them. The only future I want is with you, my love. No matter where we are, no matter what jobs we have… as long as I have you, I’m happy.”

A wet laugh bursts from your lips as a tear breaks free and your forehead falls to rest against his. The rough skin of his thumb gently wipes the tear from your cheek before cradling your face. Faces slowly inching together until your lips collide, desperation in every seamless movement. Desperate for each other's touch, desperate to convey your love.

Gasping breaths escape your mouth each time your lips part before they meet again in a soft and slow tantalizing dance. A dance that only intensifies and deepens when his big, warm hands grab onto your thighs, pulling you to straddle his lap. You fall into the position eagerly, arms sliding behind his head, fingers losing themselves in his curls. The wet sounds of your mouths and the muffled whimpers leaving them fill his bedroom. Losing yourself in the pillowy softness of his lips and the tight grip of his hands kneading the fat cushioning your hips.

As you part for a breath, you’re overcome with how much you love Eddie more and more everyday. The thought only intensifies as he flashes you a wide smile, dimples on full display. Your finger twirls around a loose strand of hair framing his face.

“So in all honesty, which place did you like the most today?”

“Think I’m gonna have to go with the first one.”

He swears his heart skips a beat when you smile back at him, the kind of smile that spreads to your nose in a cute little scrunch.

“That one’s my favorite too.”

When your lips meet again he doesn’t waste time licking into your mouth and breaching your lips, tongues engaging in an impassioned, lewd wrestle. You let him lay you back onto the pillows, your legs eagerly wrap around his waist as you fall into another night in your boyfriend’s bed, conveying your love and passion for each other for hours to come.

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the-french-belphegor · 3 months ago

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Every room in Scanlan’s mansion existed for a reason, as a conscious choice. He often changed the setup, and sometimes forgot to make a room, but a random chamber just popping up into existence for no reason was unheard of. (A few decades after Vecna, Kaylie comes across a room that doesn’t make sense in her father’s magical mansion.)

(Shout-out to @mythtaker, whose post last March about Scanlan probably keeping Vax's room in his Magnificent Mansion nudged my brain until I could finally do something with it 💜)

Still Life

Scanlan had changed addresses again since last time.

Kaylie let herself into the house after disarming the few traps he had told her about in his last letter. Just like he’d said, they were nothing fancy: just small precautions to avoid disgruntled former customers (or worse, the local competition) barging in unannounced.

The new house was small, but looked cosy, with high windows and whitewashed walls painted a light blue. The Marquesian sun flooded the coloured cement tiles of the study with a golden late afternoon sunlight. Her father, sitting with his feet on his desk and browsing through papers, didn’t appear to notice either the beautiful light or his unexpected visitor.

Kaylie shrugged off her backpack and let it drop to the floor. The thump made Scanlan look up; the next second, he hopped down from his chair and ran to her, smiling from ear to ear.

“Kaylie Shorthalt, apple of my eye, light of my days, vegan cream in my coffee –”

“Hey, Dad.” Tiredness kept Kaylie’s voice somewhat short, but the first thing she did after carefully putting down her violin case was give him a hug he happily returned. It had been a while since they’d seen each other. “How’s tricks?”

Even after all those years, the nugget of warmth curling in her chest when she met her father’s grin still caught her off-guard. She’d missed him, she could acknowledge that at least, but just how much she had still surprised her every time it hit her.

“Tricks are going swimmingly, thank you for asking. Did you get Juni’s letter?”

“I did, yeah, just before I left.”

“Oh, good. Well, it means Wax lost the bet, but she was worried.”

“Wait,” Kaylie asked with the start of a grin she couldn’t quite hold back, “which bet?”

Juniper and Wilhand’ildan Shorthalt, even after leaving home for places of higher learning, still made a point of staying in almost constant contact with each other, their big sister, their Grog, and their parents, by means of letters, second-hand messages, or Sending Stones. Their correspondence included a lot of teasing, bets, and dares, some of which bafflingly silly sometimes. It had dumbfounded both Kaylie and Scanlan somewhat until Pike and Grog had assured them that it wasn’t that unusual between siblings.

Scanlan waved a hand, drawing the suspense, of course.

“You know the kids. I think this time a… goat was involved? I’ll tell you all about it at dinner. In the meantime, shall I fire up the mansion? For old time’s sake?”

“‘Old times’, yeah. Sure.” Kaylie rolled her eyes, but her smile stayed. It had barely been six months since the last time they’d treated themselves to a nice stay in the Magnificent Mansion. Okay, it felt longer, but still. “I could do with a day at the spa anyway after all this heat.”

“Then it’s settled. Give me a minute.”

Scanlan rummaged in his pocket for the components, closed his eyes, and started to hum a tune Kaylie recognised as one she’d been working on the last time they’d seen each other. As always, the air around him went shimmery and warm, citrus and coriander with a dash of purple, and the door winked into existence.

Gnome-sized, of course. And flamboyant and magnificent and ridiculous in an endearing way, just like him.

He opened it for her with a bow and a flourish.

“Ladies first.”

“Show-off,” snorted Kaylie, and walked in with her violin case, trusting Scanlan to bring her bag inside. Which he did, after a double take.

It was always easy to tell, from the look of the mansion, if Scanlan had spent time in Tal’Dorei recently. The layout was different, the ceiling a little lower, the hues a little softer. Some of Wax’s drawings he’d made while inside the mansion hung on the walls in frames; there were touches here and there in the decorations of Pike’s blues and Juni’s golds amongst the pinks and purples. In the foyer, a sheet of paper covered in awkward letters bigger than Kaylie’s whole hand held pride of place on a sideboard along with a plate of cookies. She immediately pilfered a couple on her way inside.

“Where’d you put my room this time?” she asked, rolling her head on her neck. Gods, it had been a long day. Make that a long week. Or a long fucking month, to be honest.

“Ground floor, west wing, couple of doors to the hot springs. I’ll make the servants get started on dinner. Give me a yell if you need anything?”

“Sure thing, thanks.”

Kaylie recognised her bedroom immediately: the door was open, welcoming her in. Scanlan had styled it the way she liked, cool and cosy but not stifling, light on the frills, with plenty of space to put her things away and all the tools she needed to take care of her violin.

The bed looked way too comfy. It was tempting to just faceplant in it and crash. But then, she reasoned, it would still be there after a long soak and a nice dinner.

She threw her bag over her shoulder, padded barefoot out of her room, and opened the second door to the left.

And paused, puzzled.

That… wasn’t the hot springs. It was a bedroom, by the look of it, but a bedroom that didn’t make sense.

“Hey, Scanlan?” Kaylie called out, frowning. “What’s this room for?”

She didn’t wait for an answer and stepped in slowly, taking in the dark furniture, the elegant carpet, the plants in large pots scattered across the room. The circular bed was unmade, like its owner had just stepped out. She ran her palm over the quilt, a light, fuzzy fabric meant to look like it was made from black feathers. Or maybe stylised leaves.

Something tugged at her memory.

“What room, Kay—”

The footsteps behind her came to such an abrupt stop Kaylie thought Scanlan had Dimension Doored away elsewhere. But when she looked over her shoulder, there he was, framed in the doorway like a painting and about as motionless.

He looked nothing less than stricken.

And that… was all the explanation she needed.

After the dust settled, after that last big fight, as she was recuperating in Whitestone in a bed too big for her –

(from her wounds, from dying, from coming back to life in her father’s arms with his tears in her hair and her blood on his chest)

– he had come back, bone-tired and too quiet, the smell of booze on him stronger than some of her best and worst benders, but alive. They had talked a bit about what she wanted to do, now that the world wasn’t ending any more. She had pulled him into a hug, the only way she’d found to say everything she’d wanted to say without having words pulled out of her mouth like teeth.

It was only when she had come back from a much-needed nightly stroll and found him passed out at the foot of his own bed that she had realised he hadn’t said a single word about how the fight had gone down except We won.

What they had lost – who – had come up later.

Kaylie didn’t have many clear memories of Vax’ildan. The other members of Vox Machina she’d mostly learned to know after they disbanded. With the exception of her father – and a memorable conversation with Vex’ahlia, still vivid despite the fog of alcohol (But there’s a chance we can bring him back, if you’re willing to help) – the shape they had in her mind was a product of time in a new world, one that no longer involved escaping from dragons or being kidnapped and brainwashed by an asshole god. Vax would forever belong to that former world. The only remnants she had of him were a vague silhouette in dark clothing, a sharp grin, a surprisingly soft voice.

And the taste of blood in her mouth.

The last and strongest memory Kaylie had of Vax was his scrunched up face, contorted by guilt with tear tracks on his cheeks, open hand thrust forwards as Gilmore whisked her and Cassandra de Rolo away to safety. To this day she still viciously hoped some of that guilt was for her, too.

After all, she was the one he’d killed.

And then he had died (or perhaps before and it just took a while to really take, she had never been clear on the timing), and in the process had somehow gained the power to crack Scanlan’s heart right open.

So maybe Kaylie had ambivalent feelings about the guy.

But she was also very aware that saying fuck ‘im would not help at all in this situation.

“Oh, Dad.” She shook her head, but purposely kept her voice gentle, filing down some of her sharp edges for once. “Still, huh?”

Shock rippled on his face at the sound of her voice. It made him look a little less like someone had just punched him in the stomach.

“…I meant a couple of doors on the right,” he said in a small voice.

He’d sounded worse before – hell, he’d looked worse before, she had once seen his lifeless body laid out on an altar after getting ripped apart by a dragon – but something still tugged at her heart at that.

“Yeah, well. The spa can wait. What’s up with that?” She stepped towards him, telegraphing her movements, like he was a horse who might bolt if spooked. “Why did you make that room? You know that’s… that’s not a good idea, right?”

“I didn’t make it make it,” Scanlan protested with a little more life. “I just… didn’t not make it.”

“Okay, but why now?”

Silence.

Kaylie stared at Scanlan.

“You mean you don’t make it on purpose? It just pops up every time?”

“No! …Yes. Kinda? Look, the mansion’s a complicated spell, okay? It’s not even proper bardic magic in the first place. I’ve been casting it for years and I’m still not a hundred percent sure how it works.”

His eyes stayed mostly on her, but every now and then they strayed to the left, to the coverings, the bed, the plants. However his body still seemed rooted to the spot, and Kaylie was suddenly struck by a flash of insight.

“Dad, did you – have you ever actually stepped foot in there? You know, since he died?”

Scanlan went very still.

(How the hell did he manage to fool anybody, Kaylie wondered as her heart sank in her chest. How good a liar did that make him, really, that she managed to see right through him every time?)

She shook her head again.

“You haven’t, have you. Decades of making this room without even thinking about it and you never… Godsdammit, Dad.”

“I can’t, Kaylie,” he said, barely audible. “It’s not… I wouldn’t…”

Scanlan Shorthalt at a loss for words was a unique phenomenon that could be two things: downright hilarious or powerfully awkward. A very rare third kind of outcome, the instances of which Kaylie could count on the fingers of one hand and a half, was snapping your heart clean in two. And for someone like her, who prided herself on always keeping that soft, vulnerable part of herself safe from all hurt… Well, it sucked. To put it mildly.

Kaylie sighed.

Then she took her father’s hand.

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot,” she said gently, and pulled him into the room.

She didn’t have to tug very hard. Scanlan stumbled after her easily. The next moment he absent-mindedly straightened his vest and looked around at the room as though he was seeing it for the first time.

The room, not the contents. It was obvious, from the way his gaze lingered on this and that, how he snorted at the sight of an armchair pillow embroidered with two tiny figures inside a giant black dragon, or smiled at a painting that depicted a bunch of cows and a giant bird, of all things, that the objects that populated the space were familiar, or at least brought up memories.

Kaylie gave him a moment, then climbed onto the human-sized (or rather half-elf-sized) bed, letting her feet dangle over the edge. The movement must have caught Scanlan’s eye; he turned, and after a while shucked off his shoes and clambered up, too.

The silence between them lasted long enough that Kaylie started to wonder whether she should summon one of the mansion’s creepy ghost servants to get herself a drink. But she had cut down on daytime drinking a lot these past few decades, particularly since Juni’s birth. Putting the kibosh on Scanlan’s meat consumption had been a gag at first – plus chicken for breakfast, lunch, and dinner got old fast – but the excuse of eating healthy to live longer had had some truth behind it. Behind the sarcasm she’d actually wanted her father to stick around, and you kinda had to stay alive for that. It had taken her a few years after that to realise that getting too fucked up too often would make her less inclined to stay alive, too.

Scanlan had stuck by the vegan diet, and Kaylie had cut down her drinking rather dramatically.

But damn if her fingers didn’t still itch for a pint, sometimes.

“So,” she said, if only to hear something. Dammit. She had counted on Scanlan being the first to open his mouth – he usually was. “That’s a nice bedroom. This bed’s comfy.”

“I should hope so,” said Scanlan, his voice almost normal by now. Almost. “Nothing but quality in my Magnificent Mansion.”

“No mirror on the ceiling in this one?”

“Nah, not this time. But I think everybody had one at some point? Gods, it’s been ages. Anyway, I made up for it. Look in the… I think it’s in the bedside table on the left.”

Against her better judgement, Kaylie shuffled to the bedside table. Inside it was a book with a title in Marquesian which in Common translated to The Lotus and the Butterfly.

She raised an eyebrow.

“Isn’t that the one with—?”

“—with beautiful traditional Marquesian illustrations going back two hundred years from the best artists in Yios, yes.”

“I was gonna say ‘the sex positions guidebook’, but sure, let’s go with that.” She shook her head. “I thought you couldn’t leave anything from the Material Plane in the mansion?”

“You can’t. I had the servants make it special from a copy I picked up once at a casino.”

“The one you got scammed in?” Kaylie asked with a grin, making Scanlan roll his eyes. She leafed through the book idly, gaze quickly flitting over text and pictures, neither really registering. “And you just. Left that in your friend’s bedside table. Like that’s not fucking weird at all.” Her head snapped back up as a thought hit her. “Wait, did you… Did you ever hook up with him, back in the day?”

In the two seconds it took for Scanlan to open his mouth, eyes wide, she decided she didn’t need to know the answer. Those two had been good friends and clearly loved each other a lot; whether sex had been involved or not was irrelevant.

She steered clear of sentiment, though, out of habit.

“Wait, don’t answer that. Sorry. Gross, shut up. Still, what the hell? Was it supposed to be some kind of prank?”

“Well, no, I… Okay, maybe just a little. Once I finally got that he and Keyleth were actually, like, A Thing, I put the book in there whenever I made the mansion. Mostly I figured they might need, uh… not exactly something to help them get it on, but just… ideas, you know? It took them long enough to realise they both wanted to boink, just thought I might aid a little in that department.”

Kaylie stared at her father, not knowing whether she might facepalm or laugh herself sick.

“Seriously.”

“Hey,” Scanlan pointed out, “it was them or Vex and Percy, and once they figured out their own shit they didn’t need any incentive to jump each other’s bones! Man, I’m still surprised they stopped at five kids and didn’t go for the full baker’s dozen.”

Once upon a time, this would’ve been a golden opportunity for her to say something scathing about accidental children. The Kaylie from three decades ago would have verbally eviscerated present-day Kaylie for letting that opportunity pass by. But then again, being her three decades ago had been fucking exhausting. Sure, she sometimes missed the viciousness she had let go of over the years, but she’d also lost some fears and gained a little peace of mind. Overall, not a bad bargain.

She settled for a snort and put the book back in the bedside table. Then she made herself comfortable on the bed, leaning back and kicking her feet a little.

Surprisingly, Scanlan didn’t add anything. He rested his elbows on his knees and his chin on his arms and gazed vaguely ahead with an odd expression, for him.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hm?”

Godsdammit. Pike would be much better suited for this.

Kaylie resolutely kept her own gaze in front of her and didn’t look at him.

“You do realise it’s… okay if you don’t make this room? Maybe not next time, but like… the time after that. I don’t think he’ll mind, I mean… It’s not… It wouldn’t be betraying him is what I’m sayin’.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him turn his head towards her a little, but he remained uncharacteristically silent and still.

“It’s nice that you kept his stuff. No, I know, it’s not really his stuff, but you know what I mean – it’s, uh… it’s a thoughtful gesture. Wherever he is I’m sure he’d appreciate it. But…”

How did people do this? Say words that weren’t even spells and fixed things somehow? Her music could break and heal alike, but that last part felt closer to tying a tourniquet on a bleeding limb: a tiny thing that might keep you from dying just now, but a far cry from magic that knitted bones back together or breathed life back into corpses. She had sung away the hurt from Juni’s scraped knees or Wax’s scratched elbows a few times when her little siblings were kids. She might as well be trying to do the same now on a decades-old wound that somehow still found a way to bleed every now and then.

“But… But there’s better ways to remember him by. This is like… frozen in time. Like a museum, almost. Somehow I doubt that’s what he was about.”

“It’s not,” Scanlan muttered. Then he cleared his throat and added, without the crack in his voice this time, “I mean, yeah, he was… He was, uh.”

She pretended not to see him wipe his nose on his sleeve.

“He had… a lot going on, once he got into his thing with the Raven Queen. That messed him up for some time. But even with all that, even when he went full emo goth chicken with one foot in the grave talking about death all the frickin’ time, he was… he was alive.”

Pause; a small snort of a laugh. When he spoke again he was smiling, but his voice was less than steady again. “Never seen a dead guy so alive, when I think about it.”

Kaylie waited for him to continue. When it became obvious that nothing more was coming, she bit back a sigh, then shuffled closer.

And closer. Just close enough to lay her head on her father’s shoulder if she slumped a little.

(Ever since she’d first laid eyes on him she’d always been a little taller. That he’d never been there while she was still small enough to hold and carry was one of the things she still was angry at him about occasionally – and angry at herself for it. She was tough and strong and a grown-ass adult, godsdammit, not a bloody child.)

After a while, Scanlan laid his head against hers, giving her time to slip away if she wanted, like he usually did.

“Didn’t you want to go to the spa?” he asked quietly.

Kaylie gave a one-shoulder shrug, careful not to jostle their skulls against each other’s.

“I will. In a while.”

“I included the steam room again.”

“Good. It’s nice. Also pretty.”

“Well, you deserve the best.”

“Damn right I do,” she murmured.

Maybe he wasn’t the best father. But he certainly wasn’t the worst she’d thought he was for the first two thirds of her life. Sure, the space between their souls had its share of broken things, but in time they had built trust, and affection, and unspoken words that warmed rather than hurt.

She shifted, just enough that she could kiss his temple just above his ear – a little smaller than her own, one of the few physical traits he didn’t pass on to her – and give his hand a squeeze for good measure, lightning-quick.

Then she settled against him again before he could say anything.

The room was not haunted. In two dozen hours it would disappear, along with the rest of the house; one day it might cease to exist altogether. And maybe, between the two of them (beating hearts, warm bodies, lungs drawing breaths in tandem with one another), they could lay some old ghosts to rest.

#critical role #vox machina #tlovm spoilers #cr1 spoilers #kaylie shorthalt #scanlan shorthalt #fanfiction

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simstorian-blog · 1 year ago

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Dusty Turf

(CC List + Links)

World Map: Oasis Springs

Area: Parched Prospect

Lot Size: 30 x 20

(3-bedroom, 2 Bathroom)

Gallery ID: Simstorian-ish

Packs Used

Cottage Living

Desert Luxe Kit

Dream Home Decorator

Eco Lifestyle

Get Famous

Get Together

Get To Work

Growing Together

Island Living

Laundry Day Stuff

Outdoor Retreat

Spa Day

Wedding Stories

Build Mode

AnneSimmer – Wall Mural Pt. 1

Felixandre – London (Chandelier, Panelling)

Felixandre – Grove Pt. (Plaster Floor)

Harlix – Bafroom (Mirrors, Windows)

Harlix – Harluxe (Used Throughout)

Harlix – Orjanic Pt. 1 (Column)

Harlix – Tiny Twavellers (Mural Wall)

Harrie – Kwatei Pt. 1 (Doors, Windows)

Max20 – Polished Sandstone Trim

Peacemaker – Curly Koa Flooring

Peacemaker – Simple Siding

SimPlistic – Leafy Wallpaper

Sooky – Victorian Floor Tiles

Buy Mode

Anye – Cal Magazine

Anye – Neomy Table Lamp

Anye – Zara Bathrobe

Awingedllama – Apartment Therapy (Rug)

Awingedllama – Boho Living (Cement Planter)

Awingedllama – Blooming Plants

BlueTeas – Rivers Bedroom (Base, Headboard)

CharlyPancakes – Lavish (Shopping Bag)

ClutterCat – BusyBee Pt. 2 (FlatBox)

ClutterCat – Cozy Casita (Candle)

ClutterCat – Dandy Diary Pt.1 (Leather Tray)

ClutterCat – Dandy Diary Bathroom

Dereon – Silver Lining Stool (DL Available via Patreon)

Felixandre – Chateau Pt. 4 (Square Container)

Felixandre – Colonial Pt. 3 (Parasol)

Felixandre – Florence Pt. 3 (Luggage)

Felixandre – Florence Pt. 4

Felixandre – Grove Pt. 2 (Stacked Plates)

Felixandre – Paris Pt. 3 (Pouffe)

Felixandre – Shop The Look 1 (Side Table)

GreenLlamas – Kerv Inkblot Rug

Harlix – Baysic (Bedding, Hanging Clothes, Packs System)

Harlix – Baysic Bathroom (Toilet)

Harlix – Kichen (All glasses)

Harlix – Livin’ Rum (Tv, Bowl, Vase)

Harlix – Orjanic Pt. 2 (Vase)

Harrie – Octave Pt. 4 (Light Switch)

Joyce – Simple Live #5 (Separate Towel)

LeafMotif – House & Garden Covers

LittlBowBub – Home Barista

Littledica – Delicious Kitchen (Paper Towel)

Littledica – Rise & Grind (Flavour Syrup)

Madlen – Dionis Ottoman

MyCupofCC – ColourTalk (Mirror)

Myshunosun – Gale Dining (Cart, Wine Bottle, Wine Glass)

NoStyle – Mara Living Chair

Peacemaker – Ellipse Armchair

Peacemaker – Mid-Century Abode (Bedframe)

Peacemaker – Oasis Chic Living (Cordyline)

Pierisim – Domaine du Clos Pt. 2 (Account Book)

Pierisim – Domaine du Clos Pt. 4 (Zucchini Chopping Board)

Pierisim – Living Room Mini (Citrus Bowl)

Pierisim – MCM Pt. 2 (Rug)

Pierisim – MCM Pt. 3 (Metal Sconce, Soap)

Pierisim – MCM Pt. 5 (Table Lamp)

Pierisim – Oak House Pt. 4 (Shower)

Pierisim – Vera Bathroom (Mounted Hook, Robes, Soap)

Ravasheen – Hot Sim Disguise Clutter (Tray)

RusticSims – Kind of Modular (Books, Coffee Table)

RusticSims – Lofi Pt. 1 (All Lighting)

Severinka – Aura Ottoman

Sundays – Duvet

Sundays – Kediri Pt. 1 + 2 (Sofa, Throw Pillows)

Sundays – Kuta Pt. 1 (Dining Table)

Sundays – Pandawa Pt. 3 (Pouf)

Sundays – Sumba Pt. 1 (Pillows)

Sundays – Swell Pt. 1 (Bolster Pillow)

Sundays – Ungasan Pt. 2 (Slippers)

Sundays – Yarra Pt. 3 (Bed Pillows)

Syboubou – Caroline Shower Rug

Tuds – Ind 02 (Wine Rack)

Winner9 – Malibu Pillow

DO NOT REUPLOAD MY LOTS.

DO NOT CLAIM THEM AS YOUR OWN.

DO NOT PLACE BEHIND A PAYWALL.

Tray Files: Download

#simstorian #the sims 4 #ts4 #sims 4 #cc #ts4 simblr #build #sims 4 build #oasis springs #mid centruy modern #vintage glamour #retro #modern

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mortarmagic · 21 days ago

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Mosaic chip art involves creating intricate designs or images by arranging small, flat, and usually colored pieces of material called tesserae (or chips). These chips can be made from various materials such as glass, ceramic, stone, or even wood. Mosaic art has been used throughout history to decorate walls, floors, and objects, blending craftsmanship with visual storytelling.

Here’s a step-by-step guide to creating mosaic chip art:

1. Gather Materials

Tesserae (Mosaic Chips): These can be purchased pre-cut or created by breaking larger materials.

Base Surface: Choose a sturdy surface such as wood, cement board, or a canvas.

Adhesive: Use mosaic glue or thin-set mortar to secure the chips.

Grout: For filling gaps between the tesserae.

Tools: Tile nippers, tweezers, spatula, and safety gear (gloves and goggles).

2. Design Your Mosaic

Sketch your design on paper or directly onto the base surface.

Simplify complex images into manageable shapes and colors.

3. Prepare the Base

Clean the surface to ensure the adhesive sticks properly.

If needed, apply a base coat of paint or primer.

4. Arrange the Chips

Start placing the tesserae on the design, either directly onto the adhesive or dry for planning.

Use tweezers for precision with smaller pieces.

5. Glue the Chips

Apply adhesive to the back of each tessera or the base surface.

Press the tesserae firmly onto the surface.

6. Apply Grout

Once the adhesive is dry, spread grout over the entire surface using a spatula.

Push grout into the gaps and remove excess.

7. Clean and Polish

Wipe off grout residue from the tesserae with a damp sponge.

Polish the surface once the grout has dried.

8. Seal the Mosaic

Apply a sealer to protect the mosaic and enhance its colors.

Mosaic Chip Art Tips:

Use color gradients to create depth and dimension.

Experiment with patterns, such as geometric or abstract designs.

Incorporate recycled materials for a sustainable touch.

#home #stone #granite #diy #art #mosaic #tesserae #chips #design #create #creator #designer #wall art #floors #floor #resin #tile grout #epoxy grout #aesthetic #asmr video

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eggcompany · 10 months ago

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The Fileman and the Forgotten Bird

Oswald Cobblepot was put in Arkham though he doesn't know why, he can't quite remember. One night he's walking the halls, reason forgotten, and stumbled upon Ed working in the file room. Neither of them could guess they would fall for each other so much... They'd have never guessed they'd end up sharing a bed, sharing Oswald's conjugal visit.

Oswald liked walking the halls at night. It was quiet. He didn’t get out of bed just to walk the halls. There had been a reason… he just couldn’t remember what it was.

Maybe it was because he was cold. He was cold now or at least his socked feet were against the tile.

He made his way to the medical office wing and traced his finger down the cement block walls. He always came this way when he was cold and now, he didn't need to think to get there, his feet brought him there when he caught chills. Or when he was hungry. Or really any other time he felt something and got up out of bed. His feet just brought him limping through the halls to the sterile scented wing.

He just kept walking until he came upon an open door to a file room. Poking his head in he saw a man his age at the desk writing something on a paper.

Usually there were only cleaning people at night. And one or two doctors but Oswald couldn't think of a time he'd seen this man. But then again, they could have met a million times over.

He stood in the doorway and watched the man. He was a very attractive man. Thin and cute. Slender strong hands and glasses that suited him well. A very handsome man.

Especially when he looked up at the pajama covered patient. And smiled. Perfect white straight teeth, eyes green and sparkling, skin perfect and soft looking.

“Hello there.” Ed said and looked around Oswald for a nurse. Patients weren’t usually alone in the halls. Edward didn't run into many patients, to Doctor Thompkins’ dismay. He worked nights filing for a reason, he wasn’t good with the patients.

“Hi” Oswald said and stepped forward looking around the room before sitting down on a chair in the corner. This was nice. He had a friend. This room was nice. Full of filing cabinets and a printer and a shredder and a desk and a friend. It felt like... a safe place. And this was his friend. The staff were all friends… mostly friends.

"Do you need something?" Edward asked and watched the short little thing sit straight backed with his feet swinging. The patient was… probably about his age, cute, short, blue eyes kinda fuzzy but blindly happy.

"I don't know." Oswald said and shrugged his shoulders a bit. He was sure he needed something; he just wasn't sure what.

Edward was a little confused by that and set down his pencil to focus on the other boy.

“Are you here because you’re sick?” The dark-haired boy shook his head and looked at the map of Gotham hung up on the wall, framed. It was actually a puzzle Edward had done with more than 5000 pieces.

It was oddly familiar to Oswald, like he'd seen the puzzle before. Or maybe it was all the lines?

He leaned in a bit to get a closer look, brain focused on trying to place why it was familiar.

“No? Are you just here to visit me then?” Ed asked light-heartedly. There were a lot of patients here who got lost often. It was easier to just ask them a few things and make sure they’re okay.... But they usually never wondered once they were put to bed, or at least not to the med wing.

They usually went to the cafeteria or recreational areas. Places that were happy or full of people usually. Not where they go when they hurt or are sick. Especially not down into the records hall.

“I- I don’t remember why I got out of bed. I think I was cold. I’m cold. Doctor Thompkins gives me these little thingies that get warm. I put them in my- my socks. It helps me sleep.” The patient said in a scattered way. He looked calm though, feet swinging easily and hands laying lax in his lap.

Edward nodded and thought about it until he came up with it. Perhaps this unusual situation was going to be a good distraction. A puzzle. Ed loved puzzles.

"The snap heating packs? The small colorful packs, they're sort of jelly like?" Edward asked and held his hands up making a square with his thumbs and forefingers. He knew those kinds of heating packs were more favorable than the dry heat ones that rely on body heat to warm up. Plus, they were easy to clean and easy to reset in the kettle.

"Yes! The nurse sometimes gives me purple ones, but Doctor Thompkins always gives me purple ones because I like purple. It's even- even on my door, my name is purple it's got a- a penguin sticker because some- some of the people who knew me call me penguin and and I like it. I like having a nickname. But my sign, it's got a penguin and then a big sticker O that's all glittery and then when I first got here I had to figure out how to hold like pens and stuff again and they gave me a huge pack of crayons cause I’m only allowed to have crayons but that's okay I really like them and I wrote the rest in this kinda shiny purple so the O is a-a sticker and then the S-W-A-L-D is all my- my handwriting. I've redone it a few times, but I like it. I like my sign. It- I can always remember it." Oswald rambled on; he liked talking to people. He liked talking to people when they wanted to talk to him. And the way the other man's eyes were focused on him, and he nodded along with each silly little explanation made Oswald feel seen and listened too. It made him happy, made him smile.

“Oswald that’s a very nice name. Did you know that it means Divine Power?” Ed asked and watched the twinkle in the patient's eyes at that.

Oswald… Waldo, Ozzy, Oz, Penguin…. Penguin…. Ed thought as the boy started to ramble on again. The nickname nearly reminded him of something, but he just couldn’t place it.

“My mother named me but but she spelled it differently, I spell it the English way. She- she spelled our last name differently too. It's Cobblepot for me because I got my-my birth certificate here but hers was Kapelput.” Oswald explained and Edward nodded. Oswald nodded and looked back to the map on the wall, seemingly done talking for the moment.

The assistant turned away and quickly typed in the name. Oswald Cobblepot.

Drowned. Suffers from short term memory loss and episodes of severe confusion and has a habit of self-harm. Likes sweets and hugs/physical affections. Injured right leg, heavy limp, occasional crutch or wheelchair.

Dangerous! If wearing civilian shoes, please alert security and do not make contact.

Well, that's...Odd. The man sitting in front of him was so small and cute, petite and social, how could he be so dangerous as to have such a bold red warning?

He was cute as his cheeks drew up in a happy excited smile and his legs swung in an arrhythmic way. He was at least half a foot shorter than Ed and his pajamas hung loosely around him. He spoke well, scattered and jumpy but coherent and pronounced.

Edward shook his head a bit, patients here could be... very deceiving in their looks. Like that adorable kid who came in for therapy who also threw knives at people in the park.

Better to check and make sure.

Ed stood up and stretched his arms over his head looking down at Oswald’s fuzzy purple socks.

Safe. At least positively sure. Not for a moment did Edward fear the other man. He had a gut feeling that his patient was particularly… well that they were going to get along.

“Well Mr. Cobblepot, why don’t we get some heat packs and go back to bed. It’s late, you know.” Ed said and touched his pockets feeling for his keys and phone.

He grinned at the patient who lifted himself up onto his feet, taking a moment to get his balance before grinning up at the other man.

“Okay! Mister...um… I forgot your name. I'm sorry.” Oswald apologized and looked down; he wanted to call this man ‘mister’ too since he'd used the same honorific. Names were just the hardest to remember.

Edward stuck his hand out in a polite way, bowing his head slightly, soft smile gracing his lips.

“You didn’t forget I never told. I’m Edward Nygma. Ed for short.” Edward said and Oswald awkwardly grabbed his hand for a soft jerky handshake before pulling it back and looking somewhere to the side of Ed's shoulder.

“Oh, okay can- could you help me to my room I… I can't remember how to get back to it from here.” Oswald asked, looking down with shame and sadness. It was embarrassing knowing where he was, who he was, but just not getting all the details together. Though he doubted not asking for help would make it any better and it’s better to ask than to get lost, or in trouble.

Ed was quick to stand closer to the shorter man and rub his shoulder. His profile said he likes hugs so a bit of physical touch should make him feel better even if Ed was a bit…. Odd about touching.

“Of course, Mr.Cobblepot! It's no trouble at all, I should get up to stretch my legs. May I see your bracelet to see what your room is?” Edward asked and motioned slightly toward the bright white band that was wrapped around every patient's wrist.

“Bracelet?” Oswald said looking confused at where Ed was pointing, like the white band wasn't registering to him, like it wasn’t catching his eye.

“Here let me see this for a moment.” Edward said and gently grasped the man’s surprisingly callused spindly hands. Oswald gasped a bit and looked at his own wrist. Surprised to see the band that seemingly just turned up.

“I didn’t know that was there. I’m sorry.” Oswald said in a spacey way.

He wasn't focused on speaking; he was more so enthralled with the way the other's hand wrapped completely around his wrist like a warm safe cuff of pure gentleness. Edward’s long, strong, cozy warm fingers that gently grazed over the numbers on the plastic band caught Oswald’s attention, making his eyes grow big and dark and his belly to start to feel a bit funny.

“No worries Mr. Cobblepot. You walked a long way tonight. Does your leg hurt?” Ed asked and closed the door behind them as they made their way into the hallway. He quickly locked it before starting the walk all the way across the third floor.

C Level Room 134.

That was... on the opposite side of the building and through many hallways.

“Oh… it’s okay. I- I- Doctor Thompkins makes me wear a brace at night cause I roll around a lot and- and it’ll dislocate. She makes me get ready for bed with a nurse because I have to have some help.” Oswald said, face turning quite red. He didn’t know if this man was a nurse or not. And he didn’t really even like the nurses knowing about his knee and hip braces or his nighttime routine because of his bed wetting.

“Ah, I understand. If you need a break let me know. I know where they keep the wheelchairs.” Edward reassured as he kept his pace leisurely. He didn’t want to make the much shorter man hurry to keep up with his own long strides.

Their footsteps echoed through the empty halls, Ed’s smooth and even and Oswald's a bit arrhythmic but together they made an almost.... melodic pace.

“Do you… are you a nurse? Or- or a doctor?” Oswald asked as they slowly made their way through the doors leaving the medical wing to walk through the recreation and cafeteria section. Each door Edward would open and hold for the patient to make his way through.

“Oh no, I’m just an assistant to Doctor Thompkins. I also work in the file room; I organize and shred documents and keep the files nice and neat. I also work at the police department doing just about the same thing. I prefer it here though, it’s a much nicer place.” Ed said and bent down to whisper the last part like it was a secret.

Oswald giggled and smiled, capturing Ed’s full attention.

God he was cute.

Short with big blue eyes like icebergs on the sea and pitch-dark hair all short and spiky over his forehead that left cute round ears poking out and his pointy nose turn peachy red with blush, perfect pale skin with only the faintest freckles trying to show across his cheeks, a certain charm that showed through his stuttered jumbled speech.

Edward didn’t even notice himself giggling lightly with him as they passed the separating doors and entered the hall of therapy rooms. He made himself pull his eyes away from the other man and cleared his throat, clearing away the odd tickly feeling he was getting in his chest.

“I-I like it here. I tried to go back to my mother, but I couldn’t find her. Our apartment was empty and- and then I tried to go find my friend but-but… well I ended up here and at first it was awful because I was so scared, and they were all mean to me but then Doctor Thompkins c-came, and she made it better. And now everyone’s nice to me mostly. There’re a few people who're always mad at me but but that’s okay.” Oswald said and thought back to when he had tried to find his mother and had come to the police department only to be met with guns and a detective dragging him around by the collar. They had yelled at him for two days straight before bringing Doctor Thompkins in to help.

And then he was with all the girls, and he hated that because they were really really mean. But... It's okay now.

It’s okay because now he had a friend and was on his way to his nice room.

“That doesn’t sound very okay Oswald, why are they mad at you?” Edward asked, more curious than concerned. He didn't know of any great criminal of Gotham named Oswald. Or Ozzie or Oz or Waldo.

Plus, it seemed as though Oswald was having an easier time remembering things like happenings than specific details and it was intriguing to Edward.

“Oh um…. Before I got here in the- the months I can’t remember, I think I did something bad. I… I think I hurt people. I don’t- I wouldn’t ever hurt anyone. I don’t…. It makes me feel like I don’t know who I am, sometimes. I just wanna…. I wanna have a job and- and watch cartoons and I dunno… get married, my mother wanted me to get married. I- I have a hard time liking people enough to do the necessary activities to get married though.” Oswald said and kind of shrugged it off at the end. He didn’t like thinking of his mother much because of how sad it made him. He missed her. But then again, she’d probably be ashamed of him now anyway.

Edward laughed a bit at ' necessary activities '. Such an odd thing to say. But the sad look on the other’s downturned face made him quiet and try to lighten the mood again.

“Oh? Is there anyone here that catches your eye? Dating is very important for the growth of relationships.” Edward said and leaned over a bit to bump his elbow into the other’s arm.

“I think there is now. I don’t know. I’ll have to talk about it with- with my talk-to doctor.” Oswald said and looked away with a smile. Edward was about to say something about his cherry-colored ears but they needed to stop by the non-medical supplies closet. The green door wiping the comment from his tongue as he cleared his throat again.

“Ah, can you wait here on the bench for a moment? I need to sign out the heating packs and call doctor Leslie real fast. Yeah, just sit there, good boy.” Edward explained and guided the patient to sit on the padded bench. Oswald smiled and sat down obediently, eyes unfocusing for a moment before he was glancing up at the ceiling tiles.

Edward unlocked the door and took a breath and shook his hands. What an odd day. What an odd man. So exciting!

“Hello?” Said a scratchy sleep-tired voice.

“Leslie, it's Edward Nygma.” Ed said as he picked nervously at the wall in front of him with his hand unoccupied by his cell phone.

“Oh, hi Ed, any reason you’re calling me so late?” The doctor asked as she sat up a bit in bed, trying not to wake the man next to her.

“Oswald Cobblepot.” Edward said and then regretted not saying something else when the doctor asked a bit panicked.

“Oh no what happened? Are you okay? Did you call the police?” She asked and Ed was shaking his head even though he knew she couldn't see it, just hating the way she sounded so upset at the other man’s name.

“No, no, no. It's not like that. He needs heating packs. He actually walked all the way to my office and just sat down and chatted with me for a bit. He's very... sweet. He's... he needed some heating pads and someone to help him back to his room." Edward explained and felt his face heat slightly trying not to call the apparently 'dangerous' patient anything weird. Like adorable, darling, wonderful, cute, snuggly looking.

"You're with him now?" The doctor asked, feeling a bit at ease in the obvious endearing flick in her assistant's voice.

Edward was an odd fellow. Always nosing into other people’s business but also shying away from actual social conversation. And Oswald was sort of… well he could be very mean and hateful at times. Sometimes. Most times. Biting, kicking, screaming at the top of his lungs until only squeaky noises escaped him. Leslie had seen Oswald be sweet, wrapped up in his blanket sitting in his wheelchair watching the snow or helping the older ladies open and close their markers, but never to anyone other than fellow patients.

"He's sitting in the hall where I can see him. I'm going to put him back in bed. He's very talkative. I thought maybe it would be okay if I tucked him in... and such." Edward asked and watched Oswald scoot around on the bench until settling in the middle. He settled in, shoulders drooping to relax once he found the best spot, eyes wandering up and down the walls happily.

"He hasn't thrown a fit or anything? Complaints?" Leslie asked and was a little shocked that Oswald had sought out the other man.

Edward had a certain way that usually... rubbed people the wrong way. Corrective, ranting, staring in a way that usually made people uncomfortable.

"Nope, he asked for heating packs, he didn't have shoes or slippers on just socks and it seems he's feeling a bit cold. The entire walk so far, he's been telling me his story and he got a bit teary talking about how he was so scared and confused when he was first brought in." Ed explained and found the drawer that had the heating packs in them, picking out five purple ones and slipping them into his white coat's pocket.

"Yeah he... he lost about five years and he's pretty traumatized. Sign the heating packs out under my name and I'll fix the papers in the morning. And Ed?" Lesliesaid and smiled into her phone, knowing what she was going to say was gonna shake him up a bit.

"Yes Doctor Leslie?" Ed answered and filled out the paper for the heating packs. He liked doing paperwork, he thought faintly as he filled out the chart.

"You sound happy." Leslie said and grinned as Edward’s stutters filled the static between them.

"I- I love my job." Ed answered and tried to think of something to make his face less on fire with blush. Brushing his teeth, cleaning the floor, putting on socks, putting socks on Oswald gently and softly running his hand through that mess of spikey black hair- No! Ed shook his head and listened to Leslie huff out a half-laugh.

"Okay, anything else? Because do not call me again unless it's an emergency." Leslie asked, laughing off the stuttered fraud of an answer.

"Oh um.... I think he’s a bit sad and I think he may need some hugs can- can I do that? Is that okay? Oh, and he seems to be walking a bit…. Does he have any incontinence problems?” Ed asked quietly and looked out the window in the door to find Oswald rubbing his feet together and staring down at them. He'd been walking with a bit of a.... well the way someone walks when they've got something they're not used to between their legs. Like a bruised thigh or a diaper.

He heard a sigh on the other side of the line.

"I'm only doing this because he hasn't bitten or thrown himself down on the floor in a fit. I'm gonna let you be one of his contact assistants. He wears a pull up at night and he doesn't like sleeping in a shirt. Edward handle this with utmost care, Oswald's transgender. That means when you let him put on a clean pull up you gotta make sure he wipes himself. There are wet wipes with his name on them and his nighttime pads are all blue. If he asks for help then help him, offer assistance but do not approach unless prompted. And don't say anything about his chest scars. He doesn't like them. Do you understand that Edward?" Leslie said in a very serious tone that had Edward memorizing each word down to the letter.

"Yes- Yes ma'am. I'll be very careful. He- You should be getting back to bed. Goodnight Doctor." Edward said and moved to hold the doorknob, excited to get back to the man who was looking drowsy on the bench, letting his eyelids droop and a yawn break free.

"Good night Edward." Leslie said but was cut off by the click of the phone hanging up.

Edward stepped out of the supply room and Oswald looked up at him with a soft smile.

"I got you all purple, now let's get you back to bed." Edward said softly and offered his arm when Oswald twinged a bit to the side when standing up. They made their way toward the room that had a sparkling ' O' sticker on the sign. Edward was happy to walk slowly, arms linked, with the patient.

Oswald was smiling slightly and opened his door, leaving Ed to go into the bathroom with his key in hand. The patient went and pulled the blankets back on the bed, well gathering his soft purple blanket that he didn’t remember ever not having but couldn’t remember who gave it to him as it wasn’t standard given to all patients, and setting it near his pillow.

"Thank you Mr. Nygma for helping me back. Um, Can you unlock my cabinet too? I need something from there." Oswald said as he sat down on the side of his bed. He needed to change his undergarments at least... Ed made his tummy feel weird and Oswald didn't like sleeping in damp, whether that be his briefs or his pull up underneath.

"Oh your cabinet... Do you need any medication or anything other than the heating packs?" Edward said and laid the five purple packs at the foot of the bed and waited for Oswald to get done picking at a spot on his striped soft pants.

Oswald picked at his pants thinking about how odd it was to have a boy in his room with the door shut. No one ever let him do that before. Not mother, not the nurses. It made his heart jump a bit.

“Oh I’m I have to wear-“ Oswald started to say embarrassedly before Ed shook his head and remembered. He quickly unlocked the cabinet and grabbed the wipes and folded up black padding.

“Of course I’ll get those for you one moment. Do you need a change of underwear too?” Edward asked and stood up with the wipes and pad in hand, Oswald grinned and nodded.

He didn’t feel so bad anymore, this nurse was nice. Usually the boy nurses were rough but this one was nice. Ed. Ed was nice. Usually boys were mean but Ed was nice.

"that- that would be nice, yes. I-I have a hard time sleeping when- when I'm not warm and comfortable." Oswald explained as Edward grabbed a pair of clean purple and black striped briefs from the easily readable laundry cabinet next to him.

“Do you want any help? Do you know what to do?” Edward asked and handed over the supplies and looked into Oswald’s iceberg eyes.

“I think so” Oswald answered with uncertainty lining his voice. Edward let him go to scurry back into the bathroom, closing the door gently behind him.

“If you need help, I’ll help you, Oswald.” Edward said at the door and looked around the room.

Oswald had… few extra amenities. No privacy curtain, table, bed table, side table, extra betting, etc. It was odd. There was only a picture taped to the wall and a scrapbook shoved under the bed.

Edward looked at the picture, an older woman smiling ear to ear holding up a very chubby little baby in a frilly pink dress. Oswald, that had to be him. The pointed nose, dark hair, shimmering blue eyes, round cheeks. Edward grinned at the image, it was sweet. That must be the mother Oswald oh so dearly loves.

“Mister? Why’re you in my room?” Edward turned and smiled at Oswald, now gripping his shirt in front of him, and nodded his head. He kept the first in front of him, doing little to cover his soft chubby torso and freckle speckled shoulders.

“I’m helping you to bed, Mr. Cobblepot. I’m Edward, we walk from the med wing. Are you ready to go to bed?” Edward said in a soft voice. Oswald looked at him with wide confused eyes for a minute, cheeks turning tomato red.

“I’m sorry, I forget things sometimes. You do files. Files, file room. Ed.” Oswald said and blinked his eyes a few times. Nice boy, nice boy in his room, works with the Doctor.

Edward nodded and motioned toward the bed and Oswald hurriedly sat down, setting his shirt to the side and pushing his blankets out of the way.

“I’m, I’m ready. I’m sleepy, I-I think I’ve been up for a long time now. Thank you, Ed.” Oswald said and carefully laid down, making sure his leg didn’t twist the wrong way. Edward stood at the end of the bed, picking up the heat packs and snapping them all, moving them in his hands feeling the warmth.

“Would you like these in your socks or under your blankets? They get warm, see.” Edward asked and pressed one against the bottom of Oswald’s socks. The patient gasped and made a pleased noise, nodding his head.

“Feels nice… Can… can I have one for my… ears?” Oswald asked, obviously focusing on the feeling rather than speaking. Edward smiled and handed him one of the packs and worked on slipping the others into his socks.

Oswald hummed and rubbed the pack across his face and nose, holding it over each of his ears. Then his eyes popped open wide with a gasp.

“Is there something wrong, Oswald? Are you alright?” Edward asked in concern at the blush that was creeping down Oswald’s throat and down to his chest. Maybe the packs were too hot? Did he snap them wrong?

“I- I’m just sleepy is all. Those feel nice. Thank you. May I go to bed now?” Oswald asked, kinda pushy like he just wanted Ed to leave. Ed just nodded and made his way to the door, slight grin on his face as he shut out the lights.

“Goodnight, Mr. Cobblepot. Maybe I’ll come visit you again.” Edward teased as he stood in the hallway light leaking in through the open door. He could just make out the way Oswald glanced away and nodded.

“Okay, Ed”

-----

Edward found it pleasant to be interactive with the patients. Patient. Oswald.

He liked stretching his legs after sitting for hours and the long walk to the man’s room was perfect and calm. And it was nice to see the twinkle in Oswald’s eyes, even when he didn’t fully recognize Ed. The dark haired boy would smile and talk and talk before realizing it was Eddy and give him a hug. And Ed was okay with being hugged by warm soft arms and cold spindly hands.

“Good evening Mr. Cobblepot, how’re you doing today, Ozzy?”

“Hi Ozzy, what’re you reading?”

“Oh Ozzy, don’t you wanna go see the rain? We can bring your blanket.”

“Ozzy do you think the nurses will let us have a sleepover?”

“Ozzy, shush, I brought snacks.”

Ed would bring different things for Oswald, to the nurses disdain. Crackers, strawberry milk, a bag of cheap pre popped popcorn, tea in a thermos, each thing Ed brought and shared with Oswald in his bed made the patient even sweeter. Always thanking Ed with a hug as he snuggled in next to the other man sitting against the wall in the bed.

Oswald had requested only one thing, a picture of them together with Ed’s name written under it. And there was a cruddy picture printed by the office printer of them taken on Ed’s cell, both smiling widely, tapes next to the photo of Oswald and his dear mother.

Though some nights were better than others, some nights ending in Oswald crying screaming that he didn’t want a man in his bedroom at night, that Edward was improper, Ed kept coming back and being kind. Oswald was an amazing creature. He couldn’t stay away.

At least that’s what he told himself. What he told himself at work when he daydreamt of Oswald’s thin hands or his soft belly speckled with powder light freckles, his round ears, his sweet little giggles, his smooth pink scars, his thin lips, how soft his hair would be in Edwrd’s hand or how he makes such enticing sounds when something feels nice on him… It was all because Oswald was… intriguing. Not because he felt like warm fresh-from-the-dryer laundry when he was around the dark haired man or because his heart felt like a gymnast when Oswald fell asleep on his shoulder or in the chair in the file room.

And Oswald felt… happy. He felt warm and fuzzy in his belly when Ed was around. He talked about him with the therapist all the time. He told his friend, Gretchen, all about the boy and she’d said that Ed sounded like a good boy. He liked the way the wall and sheet smelled after Ed left and how every part of Ed was amazing and that Oswald wanted to touch his skin all over.

And he was sure Ed had good skin under his clothes. Oswald liked the skin on his hands, strong hands with perfect short nails that made Oswald’s center do a weird flip flop. He was sure the soft smooth slightly tanned skin was everywhere and that it would all feel very good against his own pale flesh.

Everywhere against him. Oswald could imagine it in such clarity. All times of day. Which really only caused Oswald more frustration because he felt good but he felt… lonely too. He like the way his belly got warm and how nice his blanket felt between his knees and how suddenly he was a bit breathless and he could picture Edward snuggling against him, kissing him, being so close, being connected- and then Oswald could start to cry and get a weird squirming feeling and have to go to the bathroom and washing his face.

And both had decided, perhaps it would be okay to keep near. Perhaps it would be okay to keep the warm feeling in their chests a secret from the other but… still try and get a bit closer to savor it.

Night after night Edward made his way from the filing room, lost in his own mind, to the patient’s room. And Oswald would be there. Sometimes with a knowing smile, other times half asleep, and occasionally reading a book. They talked, shared sacks and drinks, read a comic book Edward liked, and sometimes they just sat near and rested against each other.

And it was always at night when the lights went out. Oswald knew, even when he really didn’t, that good things come when the lights go out.

So when Edward made his way into the room during the day, just after lunch, Oswald was frightened.

Ed was on break from the police station, taking an extra long lunch to come visit Oswald and ask if it would be okay to go on an outing. He already had permission to take Oswald to a drive-in theater, but he’d yet to ask the other boy. He was giddy walking quickly with the movie listings printed out in his hands.

He was less giddy when he heard the other squawk and yell as soon as his door was opened. Oswald was scrambling in his bed, pulling all his blankets over himself, face flush and pink, hair a mess. Ed was concerned, making his way to the bedside, taking in the way Oswald was positioned to hide his arms or legs. Oswald had tried to hurt himself before. Edward took a breath and looked at Oswald’s teary face and messy bed.

“Oswald.” Edward said and reached for the blanket covering Oswald’s middle.

“Eddie don’t look” Oswald squawked and moved one hand to keep the blanket but Edward already was pulling the blanket away. The assistant disregarded Oswald’s shouts to go away or stop. Even when they started a halfway game of tug-of-war.

“Oswald, I have to see if you’re hurting yourse- oh Ozzie.” Edward said when he finally got the blankets off Oswald’s body.

He was lying there, shirt rucked up to his armpits, day pants shoved down to his ankles, briefs down his knees, one hand holding the brush end of a hairbrush as its handle plunged into his rosy center. Edward stared, just for a moment, he just looked. Oswald was so pretty. His soft belly, his trembling plush thighs, his small hands struggling not to shake as he kept the makeshift toy in place. His face was pure, overwhelmed with pleasure, he’d come to tears. And oh the way his straight thin black hair laid around his tender slit made Edward very suddenly light headed and very aware of where his blood was headed.

“I said don’t look!” Oswald cried out and brought his good leg up to kick Ed in the gut. Though it was a very light kick, it was enough to pull the taller boy out of his own head.

Ed shook his head and reached for Oswald’s hand still occupied with the brush.

“Oswald I can’t let you do that with a hairbrush. That’s not okay.” Edward said and grasped Oswald’s wrist as the boy hit him with his free hand.

“But it’s my hairbrush!” Oswald said and let out a sob as Edward’s hand pressed on his lower stomach, holding him down.

“No.” Edward said and gently but firmly held Oswald’s wrists away with one hand and used his other to pull the brush from Oswald’s clenching, shaking body. Edward felt like he couldn’t breathe as he held the brush in his hand and looked down at the other.

Oswald was sobbing, whole body shaking with each sob. His hole twitching and clenching around nothing as his knees drew together to try and hide away, his belly jiggling slightly with the creaking sobs. And his thighs were shiny with slick, matching the nearly dripping handle of the brush. Oswald was messy, not only his tear and sob smeared face but also where his slick spattered down the insides of his legs and his soaked soft looking pubes.

Oswald let out a whimper and shook, legs trembling. He reached up for Edward’s arm where the brush was hanging limp at his side.

“Please Ed…. I need it. Nothing else makes it better. It’s all… itchy in there.” Oswald begged and Edward took a step back, tearing his eyes away from the patient. He focused on breathing and thinking of things to kill his erection. Mowing grass, cold showers, vaccinations, stubbing his toe.

He just looked at the door and then realized the warm brush was still in his hand and he rushed over to the cabinet.

“Oswald… do you know what you were doing?” Edward asked seriously and got a biohazard bag from the cabinet and quickly put the hairbrush in it, sealing away the slightly sweet aroma coming from it. He turned around to see Oswald pulling his pants up and shoving his shirt down, hiding away the yards of soft pale flesh Edward was so enamored with.

“I-I-I thought I was supposed to,” Oswald said looking down at where he was still all sticky. He was doing something that wasn’t hurting him when he was having weird feelings. He was supposed to do nice things to himself. Like counting or jumping. The hairbrush felt nice… at least much better than his fingers or when he rubbed on the bed.

“Oswald you… you shouldn’t put things that aren’t specifically made for it, inside of yourself. You wouldn’t eat a tennis ball would you? Hm would you?” Edward asked to lighten the mood a bit which caused Oswald to give him a confused look before shaking his head with a light grin.

“No, I wouldn’t eat a tennis ball.” Oswald said lightly and shook his head.

“So something like this” Edward said and held up the hair brush inside the bag “should not go inside of you. Now clean yourself up we need to go ask doctor Thompkins something don’t we.” Edward said and walked out, taking a moment to breathe outside the door.

His heart was racing, his cock ached, and he just knew. He knew what they both wanted, needed, craved .

“Yes, Eddy.” Oswald said as the back of the door, he laid back flat in his bed, hands laying over his covered stomach. He couldn’t help the smile that crested on his lips. It suddenly felt a sugary warmth not only in his pants but also in his chest. Like he knew Edward was thinking the same thing he was.

Oh to just be together as themselves and in the most improper ways.

---

“I’m concerned for his sexual health. This is what he was using for a masturbation aid.” Edward said and set the hairbrush in its bag on Leslie’s desk. Watching the woman's eyes grow wide and her eyebrows raise, Edward schooled his face to not show how desperate he felt to get permission to… help Oswald.

“Oswald?” She asked with a look that had Oswald looking down at his fidgeting feet. The dark haired boy’s face was cherry red and his hands were shifty and flexing against his day clothes.

“I thought I was supposed to. It- it- I wasn’t hurting myself. It- I’m sorry.” Oswald muttered and looked over to the side. He felt a bit like he was about to be scolded by the school master.

“No, no, it’s okay Oswald. I just wish you would have told the therapist you were struggling with desires of this… nature. You know we all tiptoe around this kind of thing. Especially with you.” Leslie said and plastered on a calm smile and gentle demeanor. She nodded and at Oswald when he looked up at her, eyes unsure.

He mustered up his emotions, mostly confusing which made him mad and frustration that also made him mad.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to- to do. It’s itchy and weird and it makes my underwear smell weird and then after I have to pee even if I don’t really need to pee and- and then it makes me make- make weird noises and it makes it hard to breathe. I dunno what to do other than… put something in there.” Oswald said in a rush, ending up making a very scrunched up face at Leslie who had to hold back her laughter. A bird with its feathers up for sure.

“Do you know what you were doing is called?” Leslie asked and Oswald sat back down, slumping and shook his head.

“I-I-I don’t know.” Oswald confessed and looked back down at the bottom of Doctor Thompkins’ desk. He flushed again but then looked over at Ed’s shiny shoes and felt a bit better. Ed was like balm on a burn. It didn’t matter if Oswald was dumb about some things because Ed knew about all sorts of stuff.

“Masturbation. It’s not a bad thing to do but we need to talk to the therapist and make sure you understand what it means to do it. Then we can… explore other options.” Leslie explained and noted that she needed to have an emergency call to Oswald’s therapist and arrange a very.. Fragile appointment.

---

“Fragile” was not a word to describe what Oswald was going through. Aggressive self-soothing? Perhaps. Obsessive hypersexualized self-soothing, nearing the line between soothing and harm? Yes.

Oswald had been sat down and told that 1. Masturbation is good and healthy for a man Oswald’s age, 2. There are things made to go inside and nothing else should ever go inside. Ever., and 3. If he ever wanted to invite someone else to his room for anything more than masturbation, he’d need to get permission from Doctor Leslie and his therapist and then get an exam.

And they’d given him some books to read, and made it very clear that even if the books all showed girls, and said they were for girls, and only were about girls, that they didn’t see him as anything except the man he is. Oswald hated the books. He hated them so much. He read them… and read them again, and then took them to the bathroom with a small plastic mirror, and decided they were gross and put them in the trash, and then put them under his bed because maybe they were gross but also kind of useful.

And they gave him a very weird squishy blue thing. Oswald called it the thingy because he couldn’t remember what the doctor had told him it was.

The weird doctor.

The one that made him lay on a table with his legs all bent and open, the one who put something cold and weird inside of him before he panicked and they made him sleep only to wake up with his butt, thighs, and stomach aching horribly. The one who was all smiley when she came in and told him that he was healthy. Told him he only had minor scarring from his procedure. The procedure that he had no idea even happened and that she never explained. One that had apparently happened in the years he was missing.

But Oswald was okay. He was okay putting the thingy inside himself and biting his pillow to keep quiet. He was okay balling up his blanket between his legs and rubbing on it. He was okay sitting in the common room, spaced out, and rocking back and forth until the nurses told him to stop. He was okay with Ed coming in for lunch and finding Oswald withering under his blankets, whimpering his name. He was okay with Ed touching his ankle when he hides away under his blanket, shaking from those little shocks that happen once he’s done. He was okay when Ed came in at night and stood by the door and watched. He was very okay when Ed would watch him, standing by the door, and come press a kiss to Oswald’s panting lips after he got done trembling and shaking. Oswald was okay.

Edward however was on the edge of a very steep cliff. He spent far too many hours rushing through the halls between the file room and Oswald’s room. Far too many rushed moment’s hiding under his desk holding a tissue over his cock just to keep from staining the carpet. And far far far too many hours stood just inside Oswald’s door watching the patient.

Ed couldn’t help himself. He knew he should turn and leave but the way Oswald twisted and jerked in his bed, under his purple blanket, the way he cried out and let out busted little sobs, the way he moaned out Ed’s name like the assistant was his savior… it all made Ed glue down to the floor. It made him take the few steps so that when Oswald was laying lax in his bed catching his breath Ed could press hot kisses into his panting mouth. It made it impossible for him to keep his hands from stealing a little touch from the other man, it made it impossible for Ed to not grab at a frail ankle and feel the racing pulse wracking through the shorter man.

And Ed was losing it. He was running from the room to the bathroom to give himself a few tight strokes before he was spilling into the toilet or sink. He was hiding under the file room desk to jerk himself off thinking of how good Oswald would feel in his hands, in his lap, on him. How sweetly he’d sob as Ed touched his softest, most precious parts. How he’d sob and cry and hang onto Ed like the brunette was the only anchor he had to earth. And Ed had to tell himself jerking off four times a day was inhibiting his ability to get work done. And he’d hear Oswald small breathy whimpers, see his tear streaked face, see how his body trembled and rocked with the aftershocks of an orgasm and go back to the bathroom to pull himself through just one more.

And he couldn’t stop. He found himself going to Oswald constantly. Seeing him in the day room in the morning rocking in his chair, in his room for lunch only to find Oswald whining and crying from stuffing himself, at night when the lights went off and Oswald was throwing himself through lord knows how many orgasms before he fell asleep with his briefs around his knees. He couldn’t stop from watching, from getting Oswald a water and a cookie, a wash cloth, and kissing him, kneeling over him in bed and kissing him until Oswald was panting again.

No matter how many times Oswald didn’t notice him there, how many times Oswald walked to the file room and couldn’t remember Ed’s name but knew the room was a good room, how many times Oswald gasped and told him that a man should never sneak up on someone in their powder room while he was getting ready for bed, nothing could keep Ed away.

It all came to a head when Leslie had called him while he was filing at the police station. She was frustrated sounding.

Oswald was having a fit . He was screaming, crying, and fighting off every single person who got near him. He wanted Edward Nygma . Leslie said she was astonished that the patient could even remember Ed’s full name and could recite it over and over again as he threw hit books at the door. Ed was even surprised when Leslie held her phone away from her and he could faintly hear the patient’s screaming.

“ I want Eddy! Edward Nygma is the only person allowed in! Go away! Go away! Please stay away!”

Ed felt a hiccup in his chest and stood stone still as Leslie told him to get his ass over before they send in the big nurses and drug Oswald until he’s passed out. He bit out an answer and dropped the papers onto his desk and hurried out to tell everyone he was leaving early because of a small emergency.

---

Ed had come in, being led back to Oswald’s room by a very burly nurse. He stood before the door as Leslie told the rest of the staff that Ed was, well, The Edward Nygma. And Edward opened the door to his dear sweet Oswald.

And promptly got nailed in the face with a tube of lube.

“Oh Eddy, I-I’m sorry I didn’t know! Eddy, they want to touch me! I don’t want them to touch me! I want you to touch me, can’t- can’t you help me? Please Eddy, I need- need- I don’t know but I need it!” Oswald sobbed out and reached out from his bed toward Edward who was easily making his way to sit down on the bed.

Oswald clung to him, arms wrapping around Ed’s thin middle as he nuzzled into the other man’s warm chest. Ed smiled and started an easy even rhythm of rubbing Oswald’s back, up and down over his knobby spine.

“Why are you so upset? What happened, Ozzy?” Ed asked as Oswald rubbed his soft cheek across the texture of Ed’s button down shirt. The smaller man groaned and went all loose, laying across Edward’s lap with his face hidden.

Ed had to clench his jaw to keep from making a noise at the sight of Oswald’s nose laying against his zipper and his small hands fidgeting with one of his belt loops. Oswald had been getting handsy, grabbing and hugging and burying his face in Ed’s clothes or neck. And when Oswald turned just a small bit and looked up at Ed with those piercing blue eyes, half hidden by his hair, Ed could barely keep himself from dragging the patient up into a searing kiss.

“Had a dream. Woke up all… weird feeling in my gut. Told the nurse I needed to take a shower, she wouldn’t let me, she just told me to change my underthings. But- but the- the texture… It made it worse. I got put in the day room and then they kicked me out for rocking, I went to lunch and they fussed at me for rubbing on the bench, and- and then I talked to the talk-to doctor and he fussed at me for fidgeting and squirming around. Just need you.” Oswald said quietly, eyes starting to well up, becoming glistening and just that much more desperate looking.

Edward stared. He felt something inside his brain, inside his very soul, was twisting. Twisting, burning, turning dark in his chest as he stared down the pathetic lovely little thing sniffling in his lap, against his swelling cock, in such emotional and physical turmoil.

And he liked it. He liked how his hand drug over Oswald’s shoulder, into his shaggy black hair, and pressed his head down as his hips rolled up. He liked the whimper and slight struggle Oswald gave as Ed’s zipper dug into his cheek, liked the confused and slightly frightened look on Oswald’s tear stricken pink tinted face. And he liked how when he let up Oswald sat up and moved closer to pant and nuzzle against Ed’s neck, words lost to the blood rushing in Ed’s ears.

“Oswald, do you want to have sex with me?” Edward asked as he rolled his head to the side to lay against Oswald’s slightly damp hair.

He nearly laughed at the noise that escaped Oswald’s throat, something between a honk and a gasp, breathy yet… caught and squeaky.

The patient jerked back to sit on his butt, bad leg thrown over the side of the bed, the other sat flat behind Edward’s back. He stared at Ed with wide eyes, as though he was so shocked by the question. After weeks of showing Ed his most sensitive moments… Why was it so shocking?

“Oswald, you know what you want.” Ed said lowly as he pulled his own leg up on the bed, between Oswald’s spread ones, pushing their chests together, shoving the patient to lay on the bed, moving to cage the smaller man in with his arms on either side of his narrow shoulders.

Oswald looked up at him with big shocked eyes, rimmed red from tears, hands shaking as they floated between their stomachs. He opened and closed his mouth, brain far too scrambled and boiled to come up with an answer at the moment. Ed used one hand to hold himself up and the other to touch the side of Oswald’s face, thumb tracing a soft cheek as his other fingers traced over his round ears.

“Say what you want. What do you want? You threw a big tantrum, yelled, threw things, you hit people, what was it all for?” Edward asked, staring straight into Oswald’s eyes as he looked anywhere else. Oswald’s jaw worked under the warm palm cradling it.

“You. I d-do, I want you, Eddy. I-I caused trouble t-to get you here. Please? Please Eddy, I signed papers, I-I can have the-the special room.” Oswald begged, he forced his eyes to flash up to catch the other’s gaze.

Ed hummed, enjoying the way Oswald looked in the moment. He liked knowing Oswald was soaking wet underneath his clothes. That he was wanting and ready through a few layers of fabric.

“You have to say that to Doctor Thompson. You have to tell her you want to have sex, that you want it. You have to agree to get checked out after. Understand that, Ozzy?” Ed explained as he let his face get closer to Oswald’s, his fingers still gently stroking over damp hair and blushing pink ears. Oswald’s eyes flashed up and down from eyes down to lips, down lower where Ed’s leg was keeping his own spread open.

“I- I- understand. Doctor Thompson, tell her, use- use the words. Yes, Eddy, pl-please” Oswald said beggingly as his hips rolled down onto the bed. The small movement was enough to set something alight in Ed. He shoved himself up, standing in front of the flustered blushing patient and looked him over with hunger in his eyes.

“I’m gonna take care of you. Skip dinner, a nurse will bring you to the room. You’re being good, Ozzy, just relax for the next few hours. Don’t use your toy. I’ll see you later.” Ed said quickly, he was on the brink of fucking Oswald right in his shitty little bed with everyone his abreath behind the door. He didn’t care. Oswald was perfect, and wanting .

Oswald nodded and was about to say something but Ed was already shutting the door behind himself. He laid back in bed, hands laying on his chest. He nearly giggled. He was going to do something naughty with a boy… How fun!

Doctor Thompson was the first one to see the giggling, grinning patient. She knew it was going to happen eventually.

----

“Oswald, I need to take you to the conjugal visitor’s room. Bring your blanket and a change of clothes.” Said a nurse as she stood by the door, waiting on Oswald.

“I- I have them. I have everything. I- I’m prepared.” Oswald said and grabbed up the stack of material he had already gathered. He had gotten ready as soon as he got the papers that said what to expect, what to bring, and what would happen after.

He was overly excited as he was shown through the ward, down a hall he’d never been down, and to a door that looked just like all the others in the hospital. Except when he opened it he was greeted with a sight better than any he’d seen in… a very long time.

“Hi Ozzy, come sit down. I made dinner.” Edward said and welcomed Oswald into the room that was furnished like a regular apartment with a table, a tv, a couch, a small kitchenette, and a door that was open leading to the bedroom.

Oswald looked around in wonder. It was just like a regular home. He looked at the windows that were just pictures on the walls and not real windows, the soft warm lights, the bed in the bedroom dressed in simple sheets with a comforter folded at the foot, and finally he looked back at Ed who was motioning toward a chair that sat at the small four person table.

Oswald sat down at the table and looked at the plate in front of him. He felt like he was dreaming.

“This is breakfast.” He said as he looked at the stunning plates before him, the smell making his mouth water and his mind quiet.

“Yes. You said you liked breakfast. This is breakfast dinner . French toast, eggs, bacon, and nice warm tea. I know you don’t like coffee.” Edward said and swept a hand over the table, showing off all the fresh made food.

He’d been working hard to make Oswald food that would fill him up and give him energy. It made something feel sweet in his heart, something was being fed by taking care of Oswald. Something that made him wanna feed Oswald himself, to have complete control over it all. But then he was sure that might scare his sweet partner away. Especially when Oswald looks up with big puppy eyes as his hands nervously float over the cutlery set beside his plate.

“Can-can I eat it? Or do I need to wait?” Oswald asked and his mouth watered at the sight of all the food. He wasn’t worried about how he looked under his clothes or if he washed his hair well enough, he wasn’t scared about Ed not liking him, he felt a wash of calm come over him as Edward nodded and stepped away.

“Eat, Oswald, you’ll need energy.” Edward said and sat down opposite of the other and began to eat.

They didn’t talk. They didn’t need to. Oswald was already getting a warm feeling in his gut and Edward had been at least half hard since he’d started preparing the dinner. Since he’d put the soft towels beside the bed, piled the bedside with condoms and lube packets, and made sure there were snap warmers and extra socks nearby.

Edward was quiet as he cleaned the plates away, putting them in the sink to be dealt with later he came back and stood behind Oswald’s chair, gently letting his fingers skate up over his shoulders to rub up and down the thrumming vein on each side of his frail pale neck.

“Oswald, what do you want to do now?” Edward asked and felt the other swallow and open his mouth without speaking before closing it again a few times. He used his grasp on Oswald’s jaw and tilted his face up to look at him.

Oswald was red in the face, ears flushed a dark pink to match his cheeks. His eyes wavering and glossy wet, lips trembling, hands grabbing tightly onto the belly of his own sweater, his only anchor. Ed watched him, watched him struggle helplessly with what he wanted to say.

“Do you want me to be in charge?” Ed asked simply and Oswald was closing his eyes tightly and nodding. Of course, Ed thought, Oswald is dependent , he needs guidance, thrives under it.

And the weight of having to come up with a response lifted from Oswald’s shoulders. He didn’t know where to start. He only knew what to do with Ed after the fact. He only knew the sloppy wet kisses that were pressed into his lips when he was drowning in his own orgasm. Ed knew though. Ed always just knew .

“Up. Kisses, yes?” Edward ordered and then asked as soon as Oswald was standing before him. Oswald was closing his eyes, dark eyelashes fanning beautifully across his lightly freckled face, lips pursing forward. Edward smiled and gently placed his hands on Oswald’s soft hips.

“Good” Edward whispered as he leaned down to connect their lips, slowly and carefully.

Though Oswald was not keen on keeping it that way. He was whimpering in moments, arms coming to drag Ed closer by his shoulders, lifting up as tall as he could get to press them even closer. He was breathless in minutes, breathless from the way Ed was sucking on his bottom lip, the way warm hands had slipped under the striped fabric of his sweater and were burning into his skin.

“Ozzy, Ozzy, c’mon, bed, bedroom.” Edward said between kisses as he pulled Oswald toward the open door.

Though the shorter man was still trying to keep their tongues entwined the entire time they eventually made it there. And when they pulled apart Ed was resparked.

Oswald was a mess. Lips red and puffy, slight drool marking the side of his mouth, his face a stunning warm peach color, his eyes blow wide and big, he was the face of debauched without ever doing more than kissing.

“Beautiful, so perfect, Oswald, so pretty,” Edward said and pushed some messy black hair out of Oswald’s eyes. The shorter just smiled, toothy and honest, and leaned into the palm on the side of his face.

“Do you really think so, Eddy? You’re so pretty, so warm, sm-smart too!” Oswald complimented and Edward smirked, the begging tone in Oswald's voice was really making him feel a certain way.

“Oswald, take off your shirt.” Ed ordered as he closed the bedroom door and slipped off his shoes, taking off his belt. Oswald had slipped his own slippers off under the table and only had on his sweatpants and sweater.

Oswald was quick to comply, pulling his sweater up, struggling with it for a moment before he was holding it in front of himself. He was suddenly feeling quite self conscious. Edwrad had seen him topless dozens of times. But in this… this context. It wasn’t when Ed put him to sleep, it wasn’t like when Ed walked in on him writhing in bed, it wasn’t Ed helping him in the shower. It was… intimate in the highest degree.

“Give it here, we don’t want it getting… messy, would we?” Edward said when he noticed Oswald holding onto the fabric. He held his hand out and waited until Oswald shakily handed it over. Ed gently put it aside, folding it easily and sitting on a chair set by the door. He then unbuttoned and shrugged his own shirt off, bearing his undershirt to the world.

“Y-you have on a shirt still.” came from the patient as he looked at the other. As he stared, admired, and grew utterly starving for the other. He indulged and looked, really looked. Ed had small scars on his arms, his long, tan, well sculpted arms and a slim waist where his undershirt hugged onto him. He was… thin, tall, strong, tan, and it made Oswald both dizzy with warmth and wet his underpants and a bit… feeling a bit unworthy.

Edward noticed but decided against saying anything in favor of catching the way Oswald’s knees wobbled and his mouth hung open when he pulled the thin white shirt off.

He turned and looked back at his partner, the way Oswald’s eyes feasted on every square inch of bared flesh. It made him proud. It made him feel… more than adequate, it made him feel a bit like a preened chicken but it let himself be looked at.

Oswald liked looking, too. He liked seeing what was hidden from him for so long. He liked seeing Ed’s flat scarless chest, his hairless torso, the way his stomach was flat with the valleys of muscles just barely there, the way his tan was so clearly created by being shirtless by the stark line where his slacks were sagging lower on his hips, and oh his hips. Ed had sharp bones that stuck out, so unlike the way Oswald’s own were more hidden.

“Do you like the way I look, Ozzy?” Edward asked and stepped back to nose down the side of Oswald’s neck, hands finding their way back to run up from Oswald’s hips to his shoulder blades and down to his still covered behind. Oswald was nodding, leaning so Ed had more space to mouth at.

“Do you know what comes off now? What it means when they come off?” Edward asked and let his fingers just barely slip under the tied waistband of the sweatpants. His own slacks were sagging down, ready to slip past his ass and to the floor. He nearly laughed out loud when Oswald answered, nearly ruining the warm atmosphere he’d created.

“Pants, sex, cuddling” Oswald answered. He knew the basics of it all. They get naked, have sex, and then wash and cuddle. Or at least he hoped there would be copious amounts of cuddling.

“Ready?” Edward asked and brought his face back up to the other’s and his hands grabbed the strings holding the sweats up. Oswald held his gaze for just a moment, just long enough to feel, in his heart, that it wasn’t something clinical or something to do, it was something special. It was something precious. All just because it was with Ed. And he nodded.

Ed easily untied the string and pulled both Oswald’s pants and briefs down, lowering them as he lowered himself until he was kneeling in front of Oswald. Oswald was stunning at this angle. He was perfect, plush pale thighs framing neatly trimmed pitch black hair that was already soaked, his soft belly and hips that were begging to be kissed and marked up all the way to his chest, his lips parted as he panted lightly, and his eyes that were filled with something hot and desperate as he looked down at Ed.

“Pretty, so pretty, Ozzy. Bed, now.” Edward said and stood back up, working his own slacks and underwear down and off. Oswald positioned himself in the middle of the bed, flat on his back, hands folded over his chest, waiting.

But oh he couldn’t keep his eyes from feasting upon the image beside him. Ed was… so much more than he had imagined. He was so… so . He had soft looking smooth skin, his tan carved around a pair of shorts, lines blatant where his pale hips and groin met his tan thighs and stomach.

And Oswald was looking.

He was looking , and he was… getting a bit nervous. Because he was naked. And Ed was naked. And Ed had very different equipment. And Ed’s equipment was… a lot. His cock was hard, reaching up toward his belly, and much bigger than Oswald’s toy.

“Are you alright, Ozzy? You can touch me, I’m going to touch you.” Edward explained as he crawled onto the bed, kneeling at the end by Oswald’s still sock covered feet. He gently took one fragile ankle into his hand, Oswald’s good leg, and brought it up to his lips, pressing a kiss onto the joint as his other hand caressed up and down the rest of his leg gently.

Oswald gasped and hummed, pleasure buzzing in his belly already. He knew Edward was looking between his thighs, where his soft place was still hidden away by the pudge of his thighs. He looked over Ed, his smooth sculpted chest, strong legs, full and rosy cock, and spread his legs till they were on either side of his partner.

“That’s good Oswald, do you want me to touch you?” Edward asked and moved so he was sitting between Oswald’s knees, careful of the busted and scarred one. He was looking down at where Oswald was finally showing him… he was soaked. Framed by such dark hair only made the slick rosy folds look more enticing. His clit just bigger than normal, hole clenching when he noticed Ed looking.

“Y-yes please” Oswald said and took Ed’s hand in his own trembling one, bringing it down to his hole. Edward smiled and leaned down, chests pressing together, skin on skin making Oswald gasp. Edward grinned into the kiss they shared.

He continued to kiss and lick into Oswald’s mouth as he let out a long, pitchy moan as Ed slipped two of his fingers into his welcoming hole. At this angle he could press his palm into Oswald’s clit, which he did.

“Eddy! Eddy, please please please, I-I- Please Ed!” Oswald begged as his hands flew up to hold onto Ed’s shoulders, short nails digging in. He panted and his eyes squeezed shut, nearly overwhelmed from how very very close they were.

Edward kept kissing him, across his lips, near his ears, down his neck, he was savoring the feeling of Oswald clenching around his fingers as he moved them in a slow rhythm of in and out. He savored each one of Oswald’s whimpers and small shouts as he worked his fingers fast, as he pitched them up to rub across the soft sensitive spot inside.

“Eddy, ple-EASE! I- I know what comes next, please Ed. Put- put it in.” Oswald begged and pushed at Ed’s wrist, pushing his fingers out. He was sweaty, hair sticking to his forehead, thighs trembling, eyes teared up and blown nearly black, just a rim of blue left.

“Are you sure Oswald?” Ed asked as he reached over to the bedside and pulled out a condom and packet of lube. He sat back on his haunches and had to give himself a tight squeeze. He was already way too close just from kissing and fingering his partner.

“I think so. ‘M ready for you Ed.” Oswald said as he scootched back so his head was higher on the pillow. He situated himself so his legs were spread but his bad leg was in a good spot, and closed his eyes and waited.

He expected Ed to just… do it.

But of course it was Ed and he had to make sure everything was perfect.

“Oswald, I’m putting a towel down so when we’re done we can just rest. Pick up your legs for a moment.” Ed unfolded and slipped the soft plush towel underneath Oswald’s bottom, spreading across the bed. He took a moment to look at Oswald again. The soft smile on his face, his just slightly trembling thighs, his dripping hole, and his eyes, twinkling and waiting.

When he was finally in position, kneeling between Oswald’s thighs, feeling the plush softness against his own hips, he forgot all plans of teasing Oswald’s clit, of making it last, of anything other than getting inside of his partner. When he looked down and saw Oswald’s small hands grabbing the pillow beside his head, lips swollen and red from kissing, his eyes rimmed red only making the blue look that much more vibrant, his hips begging to move and wiggle but being forced to stay still, Ed just couldn’t stay away.

“Easy, Oswald, easy” Ed whispered as he slowly pushed himself forward, into Oswald’s soft, hot, tight hole. Oswald howled, a sound that was cracking and pitchy that Edward could feel . The shorter man thrashed against the bed a bit, throwing his head back and forth, arms pulling Ed back down so they were chest to chest again.

“Ed, Ed, Edward, please, please, I-I- it’s so much!” Oswald babbled as he scratched long red lines down Ed’s back.

Edward just let his hips sit still once he was fully seated inside. He buried his face in Oswald’s neck, arms holding himself so he didn’t squish his partner. Oswald was… so good. So warm, so wet, so perfect. He was so good when he couldn’t help but let his hips jump and twitch, he was so good when he moaned as Ed slipped a hand between them to find his clit again, and he was so so good when Ed gave him a small shallow thrust and he screamed.

“Ed! Oh! More, more, more, more, more, more, please, please Eddy” Oswald chanted and grabbed a hold on the pillow by his head, eyes tightly closed, lips hanging open letting out constant moans and whines as Ed started to fuck him in ernest.

The brunette pushed himself up onto his hands, looked down at Oswald’s face, got his knees under himself a bit better, and let himself really go. The slapping sounds that emanated between them were drowned out by Oswald’s moans. Long, needy, pitchy sounds that ended in gasps or whines.

Oswald was overwhelmed with utter pleasure, unable to think , much too far one to even consider that he was being too loud. He didn’t even know he was making noise. He was so lost in the way Ed felt as he thrusted up into his body, as all his good spots were being used and hit over and over again. He was lost between Ed’s cock filling in such a new and burning hot way, and Ed’s soft fingers rubbing quick slick little circles over his clit. He was lost in Ed’s short pleasured pants and breathy moans.

He didn’t even know the words that were coming out of his mouth once he started getting that rushing water kinda feeling low in his pelvis.

“Please, please, please, Eddy, please, please, please, I’ll be good, I’ll, I’ll be good, please Eddy, please, please please” Oswald babbled as he bucked and tried to push back onto Ed’s thrusts.

Ed was on fire, his very soul was burning up with each one of Oswald’s pathetic little mewls, with every begging word that slipped past his lips, he was catching fire. He was slamming into the smaller body below him, careless of whether or not he would bruise the other man. His mind was tuned to a new wave, one that hungered for the power he had over the other, for the utter control he had of the situation. And he liked it. He liked that he could stop and Oswald would cry. He liked that if he wanted to he could put hands on Oswald and make him wait. He liked that if he wanted to he could make Oswald turn to ruin. And he really liked that he was making Oswald turn to nothing but a soaked, pleading, pathetic thing for him.

Lovely.

It was lovely, the soft wetness that soaked the bed, the whimpers, the pleads, they were nothing but lovely .

“Ed, Ed, Ed, I’m gonna-” Oswald warned as the rushing water turned boiling in his belly, he was screaming with each deep long thrust, each rough rub his clit was getting.

And Ed nearly stopped, he nearly let himself feed into that sadistic urge that was clawing at his mind. But he just couldn’t . He couldn’t stop from slamming into the responsive, wonderful, loud little thing below him.

“Come on, Ozzy, good boy, cum, gonna cum too.” Ed said and he was. He was getting the gittery desperate feeling in his hips, making it impossible to keep rhythm.

Oswald had started to have little twitches, tightening around him sporadically. He was clawing again, hands struggling to grab onto Ed and hold on. His whole body was jerking, twisting, kicking, like he was a twisted up rubber band.

“I love you, oh, I love you, I love you I loveyouIloveyouIloveyou” Oswald chanted out and screamed as his body pulled taught, like he was frozen. He was still, back pulled up into an arch, mouth hung open, eyes rolled to the back of his head, nails firmly dug into Ed’s back.

It only took one look at Oswald’s blissed face for Ed to let out a long groan and let himself cum deep within Oswald’s trembling center. He kept himself still inside even as Oswald melted. He kept himself inside even as he softened and Oswald relaxed into a puddle on the bed. He only pulled out when the condom began to leak back onto himself.

He tied off the condom and threw it in the small trash can beside the bed, he used the towel to wipe himself and Oswald off, and tossed it off the side of the bed to lay beside Oswald.

“Do we cuddle now?” Oswald asked, slurred and slow. Edward huffed a laugh and pulled Oswald close to him, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Yes Oswald, we can cuddle as long as you want. Whenever you want.” Ed promised. He smiled at Oswald as he snuggled in, pulling the blanket up over their naked bodies.

Ed was happy. And he liked the way he felt settled in his mind. He liked the clarity he was granted as he worked the next day, planning on how to make Oswald… cry. How to make him scream and cry and beg for mercy. How to make him worse …. And perhaps that was very terrible but somehow a different side of Edward was carving itself out.

#fanfic #egg_company #smut tag #gotham smut #nygmobblepot #top edward nygma #edward x oswald #oswald x edward #edward nygma #bottom oswald #trans oswald #oswald cobblepot

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officialdaydreamer00 · 1 year ago

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The final experiment

lilith's lore

episode 1: the failed escape

episode 2: the morbid realisation

cw: liminal spaces, body horror, existential crisis, uses of black as blood

"ugh..."

lilith groaned. her head ached, like she was hit square in the face with something solid. well, in a way, she did.

with her shaky hands propped on the cement floor, lilith struggled to sit herself up, immediately cradling her head as it began to throb painfully. she then felt a strange liquid coldness spreading on her palm, it rolled down her face and dripped on the floor into a thick puddle.

eyes widened in confusion, her hand slowly moved away from her forehead, only to see black. her hands were coated in a black substance. a distinct metallic smell hit her nose, giving her a sick sense of nausea.

"oh god..." her voice wavered. bile rose in her throat as she stumbled back, tears welled up in the corner of her eyes. was that why her head had been spinning nonstop? was her blood always like that? was she even human?

"no..." she mumbled, a shaky hand placed on the floor to push herself up. "i am human, i know i am human..."

she might not remember what happened before her containment, but she refused to believe she was anything but human.

her legs wobbled, trying to support her weight as she placed her hands on the wall. her blurry purple eyes then darted around to check her surroundings. she was in an empty hallway, strange greenish fluorescent light flickered from time to time, showing her a darkened path.

lilith shuddered. "that doesn't seem good..." but she had no other choice but to move forward. with wobbly legs, she made her way to the end of the hall, her hands on the wall as a way to stabilise her tired body. the more she walked, the dimmer the path seemed to be. perhaps it was just her tired mind, but did she just see a shadow darting pass her just now?

lilith shook her head, though that was a big mistake. her head began to throb painfully once more from the sudden movements. she grabbed her head, almost losing her balance had it not for her firm grip on the pipe running along the walls. "never again..." she muttered.

she made it to the end of the hallway. there was only a wooden door closed shut, and by the looks of it, hadn't been opened for months, years even. moss grew on the walls surrounding the door, paint chips gathered into piles in front of it, collecting dust. though, a sweep on the floor indicating that it had been opened, quite recently too. lilith wondered if this related to the strange silhouette she saw a few moments ago.

curiosity won. she decided to open the door. however, the moment she grabbed the doorknob, she felt a chill ran down her spine. "that was weird..." she muttered. with a deep inhale, she twisted the knob and pushed the door open.

that was yet another mistake. she invited herself into a lab, one fucked up to a concerning degree. it was barely lit, but lilith could make out the desks lining like the ones above. papers sprawled on the desks and on the floor, wrinkles and footprints indented on the papers as if they didn't matter one bit. the once pristine white walls were now an ashen grey colour, stained with a strange kind of black substance, which seemed both old and recent.

the black reminded lilith about the nauseating metallic smell she noticed when she woke up. it gave her a queasy feeling in her stomach the more she looked at them. the floor was in the same conditions when the tiles were broken and stained with the same black substance.

what really shook her to the core was the plethora of incubation chambers littering the place, all lit up and functioning like the ones above. her eyes laid on a chamber to her left and she felt her heart dropped to her stomach.

it was her.

well, more like a doppelganger. a clone of her, resting inside that chamber waiting for the day when it was released into the world, and replaced her.

she looked around again. all of the life forms in the chambers had green hair. the more she stared at them, the more horrified she became. all of them were mutilated in one way or another. some were limbless, some didn't have facial features, and some were just... a lump of flesh floating in the water. the chambers stayed lit as if taunting her, reminding her of what she was to those scientists.

a test subject, no more, no less.

step, step, step... she approached the chamber with caution, her bare feet padded on the cold dirty floor, being mindful of what she was stepping on. she kept her eyes on the clone, and in an unconscious manner, rose a hand as to place on the glass barrier.

"i wouldn't do that, if i were you."

lilith yelped, flinching away from the incubation chamber. her head whipped around, and dull purple eyes clashed with glassy forest green. she saw a... child? a small girl staring at her unblinkingly. she had long pastel pink hair and glass looking green eyes, and what seemed to be realistic cat ears twitching on her head. she wore a lab coat over a black top and asymmetrical black pants, showing her knee joint that was of a doll.

"who- who are you?" lilith asked, her voice wavering.

the girl only hummed, tilting her head as she continued to stare at lilith. "they called me dr. ambrose. katharinya iris ambrose. you may call me iris. now, who might you be, intruder?"

lilith wanted to cry. even her voice sounded empty and doll-like. she didn't like how iris just stared straight into her soul like that. and about her question, should she call herself subject x-50337 or the name she just got a while ago?

she decided to say her name instead.

iris hummed again, emotionless green eyes looked lilith up and down. "i see... you are the one he told me about." she shook her head. "very well. follow me. we've got work to do, lilith."

the way iris referred to her sent shivers down her spine. why did that have to be so ominous?

'whatever...' lilith decided. 'i had no other choice anyways.'

with that said, she followed iris deeper inside this strange place he called floor 0.

this took me literally so long to brainstorm and write out lmao :'D anyways, enjoy the lore, friends :D

taglist: @azulashengrottospiano @aqua-beam @identity-theft-101 @nem0-nee @siren-serenity @ceruleancattail @ryker-writes @moonlit-midnight @ang33333333l @leonistic @twistwonderlanddevotee @names-are-dumb

#irene's writings ♡#the final experiment ⚠️#original character #original story #oc lore #lilith blank #iris ambrose

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is-not-a-unicorn · 11 months ago

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I'm having a bad mental health day

I'm really struggling to do anything. I'm not even going to the house today because I need a break. I'm trying to take it easy so I can calm down. I did some Journaling when I woke up. I stopped by my partner's work to visit with him and bring him lunch and I did some shopping. I thought getting out and doing stuff would help me feel less depressed but it didn't. I took a shower and I'm gonna nap after I post this. Maybe that will help.

CW: angry rant after the cut

I was up all last night and couldn't sleep because I was thinking about how angry I am with my roommates.

This entire floor was covered in piss & shit with paper towels cemented to the tile. My roommate kept saying he would clean it up. Did he? No!! My partner and I did. I spent like $200 on cleaning supplies, he had everything he needed to clean. He said he was going to but days went by and nothing. He said he would clean on Tuesday and we came back Sunday and nothing was done. My partner couldn't be in the house because of the smell so we cleaned it ourselves. It still smells like urine but not as overpowering as it was 😢

I'm just tired of being the one doing 95% of the cleaning. I did ALL of the cleaning the first two years we lived together. After I stopped cleaning up after them everything went to shit. I haven't used the kitchen in 5 years because it smells like urine. And they never cleaned it.

The basement was flooding last year and the plumber refused to come in the house. I wasn't even living there, I was with my partner in his apartment. And I'm still the one that cleaned the kitchen and the laundry room.

The other roommate always says thank you and tells me how great it looks and I HATE that. I don't care that you're grateful. I don't want to always be the one doing the cleaning. I work more hours and have a harder job. I haven't lived in the house for the past two years. Clean up your own fucking mess. I don't want praise. I want them to clean up their own shit.

Talking to them does nothing. They say they'll clean up but they DON'T. I swear I'm gonna start charging them $75/hr to clean up after them and just take the money from the household account idc.

I'm scared to live in the house again. I was so depressed living there before, things got REALLY bad. It'll probably be better this time because my partner will be there to support me. My partner keeps telling me it will be okay. But I'm still scared. I keep having break downs and crying if I think about it too much.

And my partner's mad too. He thinks my roommates shouldn't have a dog if they can't take care of it. But the dog is extremely reactive and wouldn't be able to be rehomedso he's not going to say anything to my roommates about that. My partner is going to try to work with training the dog since my roommates haven't. He feels absolutely terrible that this dog has been forced to live in her own urine and feces. It's unsanitary and cruel. My partner is also worried that the urine soaked through the grout and damaged the foundation of the house.

I don't even know how my roommates' cats are because they stay in their room. But my roommates always smell like cat pee and it's a little bit embarrassing for me to be around them in public.

I don't even know what to do except keep cleaning. Next week. Not today.

#Depression #Rant #Vent post #Personal vent #Vent #Anger #depression mess #cleaning #audhd #Self care #How do I stop feeling angry??#How do I get out? I feel trapped #reactive dog #Unsanitary #Animal neglect #ND household #Cleaning #I am broken #Personal

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softlyapocalytpic · 2 years ago

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So like, @pchberrytea tagged me forever ago now, but I actually got some writing done today SO I THOUGHT I'D SHARE. IT'S TID BIT TUESDAY/WIP WEDNESDAY.

Does anyone want me to tag them? Please give me people tag. I hath no one! Let me give you an excuse to spotlight your writing. I'll so happily read everything and give it love. Let me love you, random stranger.

Anyway, here's Deacon being my excuse to ramble on for two pages about Leo's clinic. Characterization through how someone effects their setting. My buddy nicknamed me tolkien on discord for this.

Most people thought that you had to meet a person to get to know them, but Deacon had learned long ago that there was a lot you could tell about someone from the place they lived.

On the corner of Nowhere Avenue & Shank Alley, tucked away from the hubbub of Goodneighbor’s street market, was a small two-story clinic that stood out from the rest of the anarchist settlement. Sure, it was built with the same New England brickwork as the rest of the neighborhood sporting the same centuries-old weathering, a small neon sign hanging daintily in the window that said Open in big red letters, and a radio tuned lovingly to one of the two preferred stations of Goodneighbor residents that could be heard nostalgically muffled through the walls, but that was where the similarities ended.

You could tell at first glance that someone had put in the elbow grease to restore large parts of the building both inside and out. Where there used to be crumbling brick were children’s murals painted over the patchwork cement, and every window had been blessed with a proper pane of glass. The storefront itself was painted, trim and all, in a rich blue that had only just begun to chip in the places that people touched and leaned in against it. Painted on a wooden sign that fitted into the front door was a message that made its owner’s intent very clear: “All are welcome, free of charge.”

A peak in the window revealed a waiting room with walls painted a cheery yellow. Hanging on them were posters from movies, tourist destinations, and even the rare cute animal by the corner with children’s toys and a rug. Lining the walls were the best-scavenged chairs one could buy and a desk with a pen and paper to put your name on a waiting list.

From experience, he’d come to know the backroom where the good doctor met with each patient and served as a surgery room if necessary. It was tiled with mismatching sets made to create a new pattern out of the scraps and properly grouted to boot. It was also clean. The stainless steel was scratched but shiny and the room always smelled like antiseptic and abraxo. The whole place would smell like it if it wasn’t for the fact that the doctor had flowers and candles (when he could find them) out in the waiting room. Most of Goodneighbor didn’t have the noses to smell it, but it certainly added to the ambiance.

From his peaking around when the doctor was out Deacon had learned that the upstairs was where the doctor lived. The bedroom, kitchen, dining, and workshop were all stuffed together in the same cozy room with only the bathroom being closed behind a door.

There was always a bag packed with non-perishable foods, a set of clean clothes, a tarp, rope, and a handful of other survival essentials. In a framed picture by the bedside was a family of three; a father, an older sister, and a younger brother with a melted candle beside it.

#wip wednesday #tid bit tuesday #leo lockhart #fallout 4 deacon #fallout fanfic

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frkyildiz · 1 year ago

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1/2 1/3 1/4 1/6 1/8 Scales Glass Blue Blend Mosaic Wall Tile Texture Seamless Sheet Printable Instant Download for Mini Dollhouse Kitchen, 3D Model Homes, Swimming Pool, DIY Cut and glue identical sheets next to each other to make the flooring sleek.

Original Size 1x1 in = 2,54x2,54 cm

1 PDF, 5 JPG

Instructions • Upon checkout you will be prompted to download your flooring sheet. Simply download, print, and trim to fit in your space. You can also upload to be printed at a print service. Best printed on white cardstock

#digital mosaic glass #miniature blue tiles #paper stained glass #digital mosaic tiles #Printable Flooring #Dollhouse Flooring #Dollhouse Printables #Digital Flooring #Miniature Printables #dollhouse miniatures #printable tiles #Cement Tile Digital #Cement Tile paper #1:12 scale #1:6 scale

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jjcocker · 11 months ago

Note

For random ask game number 9

9, first scar you remember getting

uhh

probably this.onetime i was like. 4, adn i went to some. sorta store with my parents, which was for. uhh house bulding. stuff. like tiles, cement, idk what els— adn a tile that was on display at said store fell on my foot adn. it started bleeding. it hurt a lot. adn I cried

there was this other time I was like. 9 too. and at the day I was pissed at smth adn my mom was also pissed at smth else, so she asks me to check the printer, then I do check the printer buf accidentally make the papers fall.but my mom thought it was intentional so she jist Smacked my arm real hard adn.it was more of a bruise than a scar. but eh. i also cried

the ask game itself

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bowdownbeotches · 2 years ago

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Roor Repair from fixing Leaks to Replacing damaged

Introduction

Are you tired of constantly worrying about leaks and damages to your roof? Has your roof seen better days and in need of some serious repair? Fear not, as we have got you covered! In this blog post, we will take you through everything you need to know about repairing your roof. From fixing pesky leaks that are causing water damage to replacing severely damaged sections of the roof, we've got all the tips and tricks to ensure that your home is safe from any future disasters. So sit back, relax, and let's dive into the world of roofing repairs together!

Causes of Roof Leaks

One of the most common causes of roof leaks is damaged or missing shingles. Strong winds can cause shingles to break or come loose, leaving your roof vulnerable to water damage. Another common cause of roof leaks is clogged gutters. When gutters are full of debris, they can’t properly drain water away from your roof, which can lead to leaks. Ice dams are another common cause of roof leaks. When snow and ice build up on your roof, they can form a dam that prevents water from draining properly. This can cause water to back up under your shingles and cause a leak.

How to Repair a Roof Leak

When it comes to roof repair, there are a few things you need to take into account. First, you need to determine the location of the leak. Second, you need to assess the damage and decide if you can repair it or if you need to replace the damaged section. And third, you need to choose the right materials for the job. If you have a roof leak, the first thing you should do is try to locate the source of the leak. If you can't find it, then you should call a professional roofer to come and take a look. Once you've located the leak, you need to determine the extent of the damage. If it's just a small leak, then you might be able to patch it up with some sealant or caulk. However, if the damage is more extensive, then you'll likely need to replace the damaged section of your roof. When choosing materials for your roof repair, make sure that they are compatible with your existing roofing material. For example, if you have a shingle roof, then using tar paper and asphalt shingles for your repairs will blend in nicely. But if your roof is made of metal or tile, then using different materials will make your repairs more noticeable. Also, be sure to use materials that are rated for outdoor use so that they can withstand weather and other elements.

How to Replace Damaged Roofing Materials

If your roof is damaged, you'll need to replace the damaged materials. Here's how to do it: 1. Remove the damaged shingles or tiles. Use a pry bar to remove the nails holding the shingle or tile in place.then, lift the shingle or tile off of the roof. 2. Cut out the damaged area of the roof decking. Use a saw to cut out the damaged section of plywood or other roof decking material. Be sure to make the cut as straight as possible. 3. Install new shingles or tiles in the damaged area. Nail the new shingle or tile into place, then apply roofing cement to seal around it. Repeat this process until the damage is repaired. https://therooftechnician.ca/our-services/roof-repair/

Conclusion

We hope this article has given you a better understanding of the different types of roof repairs that can be done and how to go about fixing them. Whether you need to fix a leak, repair damage or completely replace your roof, knowing what is involved in each type of job is important for making sure your home stays safe and secure. Be sure to consult with a professional if you are not comfortable attempting any sort of roof repair yourself. With the right knowledge and materials, even more serious kinds of repairs can be handled easily and affordably.

#roof repair #roof cervices #roof repair contractor

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breath-of-eternity · 2 years ago

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The End Is Near

Ereshkigal shut her eyes and her mind reached deep into the earth. Soil, rocks, silt, ash, and beneath, the raging magma. Out on the sea side of the volcano, the earth was stolid and people often forgot the power contained within. Water lapped at the shore, the wind howled against the stone, but the earth was always silent.

Until it wasn’t.

“Three days at most,” she announced to the others. “I am uncertain they can evacuate the area in time.”

“Who’d believe us anyway?” Imatar said. Their clothes were rumpled, as Agni had not shown them much care while he held onto them, and they certainly had much to say about that. Ereshkigal dampened her frustrations, reminding herself that even if her companions acted like they were not taking things seriously, that did not mean it was so.

“I still don’t get why the man with the book is heading up there,” Melusine said.

“He must not know the volcano is about to erupt,” Agni said.

“Still, what is up there for him? More of our things to steal?”

Agni shrugged. “Maybe he suspects someone found out what he was up to. Resh, is the book still there?”

She shut her eyes again, laying her staff across her lap, and called up the other magic she had sworn herself to. Instead of a straight divination that revealed the item’s location—not exactly necessary at the moment—she sent her mind out to the book she obtained over two thousand years ago and immediately inscribed a rune of protection into, to both keep it durable and track it down should the need arise.

Remote viewing was a tricky magic, not terribly difficult to wield, but able to cause severe damage to the user if their open, vulnerable mind was detected. With the decline of magic, that would not be a problem for her… but she could not say that with absolute certainty.

The book appeared in her mind’s eye, the leather crumbling in places, paper torn and pages missing, the faded ink making up her slanted script. Piece by piece, the rest of the world revealed itself to her. A man, his pants made of rugged material in pristine condition, his shirt thin and smooth against his skin, made of material he did not recognize. He looked down at a bracelet on his wrist and it lit up with numbers, and when he tapped the glass, it changed to letters, a message.

Around him were more people, some talking, others silently staring out at the room around them. The floor was made of tile cemented in place. The walls were a brilliant white. Artifacts were kept underneath glass, and the rusted spear that once belonged to Agni indicated these items belonged to the knights.

The conversation was hard to follow. They wanted to fly somewhere? Castle spoke of his money with something of a smile touching his lips, and the people around him did not look him in the eye as he monologued at them. All right, enough was enough. Ereshkigal severed her connection to the magic and opened her eyes.

The others stood around her, the eyes of Melusine and Imatar fixed on her while Agni studied the knots in a tree. She leaned heavily on her staff as she stood, but the drain from the remote viewing passed quickly.

“It seems to be in the cathedral you told me about,” she said. Dirt on the back of her skirt, that wouldn’t do at all. “The people stood around him like he was a king commanding his subjects.”

#fantasy fiction #fantasy #knights of eternity #fiction #writers on tumblr #original fiction #epic fantasy #high fantasy #just a few more chapters...

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eggcompany · 1 year ago

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The Fileman and the Forgotten Bird

Nygmobblepot Smut

Trans! Oswald in Arkham falling for Ed, the filing assistant. Smut ensues.

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