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MASTERLIST | CHARACTER LIST

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ˋ°•*⁀➷ feel free to use any pronouns for me [biologically she/her], 21 ╰─▸ Maria | agender pansexual | 9th July 2004 🦀 ˋ°•*⁀➷ fanfiction | roleplay | MINORS DNI ╰─▸ do NOT copy/steal

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Currently in the mood to roleplay...

Kit Marlowe Henry Creel (001/Mr Whatsit/Vecna)

Professor Grace Augustine needed you.

She needed you quickly because none of her current students would do a good enough job supervising the samples she collected and was planning to test. She needed someone trustworthy who wouldn't accidentally kick down and destroy the samples as soon as she was out of sight. Her mind came to you as the first choice. However, just as quick, she became certain you were busy with your other classes at this time. Besides, the odds that you'd be willing to come help her, be it temporarily, were slim. Or were they? Perhaps you wouldn't mind giving her a hand. You did seem to be favouring her class over many others, and sometimes you were even giving her subtle hints that you liked her.

She'd been a professor for a long time. She could sniff out that kind of stuff. When a student was developing a crush on a teacher, it was damn obvious, and with you it was not far from being as obvious as a neon red sign. But Grace couldn't say she minded that. If anything, it entertained her quite a bit, making her time teaching a little more interesting.

After all, teaching students who were hardly interested in being there became a toll even if she loved her job. And so she felt lucky to have your company whenever class rolled around.

Professor Grace Augustine figured out quite quickly that you were taking P.E. now, which, in her defence, felt like a waste of time class, but then again it was imposed by the RDA. They were quite adamant about raising future soldiers, and the thought never failed to make Grace feel eerie. She had tried before to ease down these classes, maybe completely replace them for something more pacifistic.

But always got turned down. Grace Augustine was a strong woman, but the audacity of some men seemed to bring them more wins because, you know it, even here on Pandora, men were the same. Annoying, self-absorbed, and lacking any critical thinking and desire for peace.

It was not surprising to her to see you were up for this class next. How else? When she was unlucky, there had to be a whole string of bad luck following.

She sighed to herself, since she knew having to deal with the trainer, Professor Quaritch, was going to be a pain in the ass almost as equally stressful as collecting the samples with a bunch of RDA's disorganised dumbasses with weapons.

She came to find you either way.

Even if this entailed dealing with that stress-inducing pack of muscles. A brute that lacked any empathy or consciousness. Not only was Quaritch an absolutely disgusting man, but also incredibly difficult just for the sake of it.

Grace made it to the changing rooms.

In fact, she had first checked the training grounds, but nobody was out just yet, and then as she waited, one by one more and more showed up, but you. So then you were either not around or still in the changing room. She didn't want to pry; that was quite bad to do, but it was the quickest way to sneak you out before Quaritch showed up to his own class and made a fuss about Grace temporarily borrowing his students.

So she went inside the changing room, first listening, then peeking in. Grace had been right; there you were. Still changing, probably. Probably because your shirt was off, but you didn't seem to be taking any on to replace it.

She stood by the door, watching, using your lack of attention to get a good look… head to toe, of course, with her eyes lingering more on the chest area. She would be hypocritical to say she hadn't checked your tits out before, but it had always been… superficial, short-lived. Passing glances inside your top when she leaned over you in class. But now she had the chance at a full view, and she didn't feel like wasting it.

You, however, seemed to have become aware of the eyes that were on you.

"Why are you just sitting there watching me change?"

Grace's brow lifted. She didn't have an answer that would explain this in a moral, ethical way, so she turned a bit cocky, walking in over with her arms crossed over her chest.

"I am taking over Quaritch's class today. Began grading with you. You were first on my list, and you weren't out in the yard… so my best guess was that you were still in here."

You rolled your eyes and turned to look for a shirt to cover yourself, but Grace reached from behind to stop your hand, her chest snug against your bare back. Her hand held your wrist tightly until she made sure you would no longer reach for a shirt, before she softly let go, fingers trailing lower, to your palm. Her fingers intertwined with yours, and she squeezed your hand lightly, her head resting against the back of yours.

"Is Quaritch actually missing today? That doesn't sound like something he would do? He'd show with a missing leg and arm to drill it into our heads how important it is to run 20 laps." "No, of course not. You are right." Grace laughed knowingly, "I came... to sneak you out of Quaritch's class. I need a helping hand in the lab." "And you think he'll say yes?" "No. Clearly not. But you must have missed the part about sneaking you out, sweetheart. I don't need him showing off his muscles and wasting my time with his pretentious unsubstantial lecturing."

You chuckled, and Grace took a step back, sitting down on the bench in the changing room, pulling you down on her lap.

"I'm still giving you an A. For the physical assessment."

You willingly straddle her lap, this time facing her with your arms draped around her shoulders.

"Just so you know, I will contest that. I think this time I might deserve an A+."

"Ah, sweetheart... Wake up. We have to leave... There are terrible, terrible monsters coming for you..."

Your eyes were still shut, but you were no longer asleep. That juncture, that moment of transition when your mind, engulfed by images of dreams, leaps back to consciousness. Dreams had always been an incursion into something, something buried inside of you that, like a mole, had tried blindly to crawl to the surface.

Your eyes were still closed. A cool breeze brushed your skin, gradually waking you. The window? You must've forgotten to close it when you fell asleep, and now, in the dead of night, your ears perked. You heard it at first, faint, muffled, the sound of ticking.

Tik... tak... tik...

The more your ears focused on it, the clearer the ticking. It matched the pace of your own heart to the point you could no longer distinguish the two.

Was it the clock ticking or your own heart?

Then a different sound. A twig creaking as the breeze reached it. The very same breeze protruded through the slit of the open window. It made your skin form goosebumps. It was colder now than a few moments ago.

Inhale...

A deep breath.

Your eyes still shut, trying to regain sleep. Sleep. You chanted to yourself that it was too early to open your eyes, and if you had, you'd not be able to fall asleep again.

The twig creaked again, and a stronger freeze made its leaves ruffle. The chill worsened, and then, as if due, the twig persisted in creaking and bending under the wind, which picked up in pace. The rustling grew louder too, and you suspected a storm would be starting soon. A swish of enraged leaves.

That had to be it.

That was why your body startled you awake.

A flash of light whitened the black beneath your eyelids, and a loud clap of thunder resounded next with the magnitude of an earthquake of the clouds.

Then the pitter-patter. Drippy tiny water missiles that began assaulting the surroundings and among the victims, your window.

"Ah, you're awake, sweetheart."

Your eyes opened, heart pounding, darting around.

You lived alone.

You had always lived alone. Your chest felt heavy, your mind hazy. With your eyes still blurry from sleep, your hand reached habitually for the switch, and when you flipped it on...

Nothing.

The window was shut, the trees were motionless... There was no breeze, no water droplets, no storm. No person who could have spoken those words. And yet you felt as if you hadn't slept. Your body was weary, heavy, drained.

You rubbed your eyes, rising to the edge of the bed, feet planted on the carpet. Your toes wiggled into the slight fur, comforting yourself in the soothing familiarity of the surface.

Home...

Home.

And yet, you felt home a moment ago too. Just as home as you feel now.

You rubbed your eyes again, "I need to be careful what I eat before going to bed." You rose up, and as you stood, you couldn't shake the memory of the house from a moment ago. How could it feel so real if it had been a dream? How could it feel so familiar if it was your house? Was it a friend's house? No. Your eyes had been closed, but the sensation felt so homey... if only you would've opened your eyes and seen the furniture. Maybe you could've recognised it. Who owned the home you had been in only moments prior?

"That was not your house, sweetheart... Not yet. But the monsters are coming... It will become your home. Safe from the monsters, lurking."

You turned around sharply.

Behind you, next to your bed, was a gentleman. He was familiar... you've seen him. That very night. What a long night it was... how many dreams you had.

"Not yet, sweetheart. There is no time to dwell on those thoughts now..."

"I know you. I've seen you..." you couldn't put it in a better way than that. You've never met this man before, and yet he had been in your dreams that night. You had lived a whole life within the span of a few hours... The gentleman in white.

The orderly.

"Henry."

The spiffy figure's lips curled in a smile.

Your confusion worsened. Your mind was grappling with this realisation. That despite never having met this man in your life, somehow you had dreamed months together in a single night. You knew him, everything about him, without having ever known who he was.

"And you are Y/N. We must go... Do you remember what I always taught you with? I know your mind... it must be foggy... but you have to believe me."

Henry took his hat off, holding it in front of his chest and bowing slightly to you. His free hand closed in the distance, but he stopped, hesitating.

"You must be so... so confused. But... you believe me. Right? Terrible monsters are coming. We have to go..." "No wait. Henry, give me a second. I just woke up, and I'm... what are you saying? Please. Sit down. Don't talk in riddles with me; I'm too groggy for that.

Henry seemed to be rushing, but at your request, he sat down on the edge of your bed, knees close together, elbows resting on them as he glanced at you.

"I asked you before to trust me..." Henry began again, comforting little smile pointed at you. "And you have to trust me now, sweetheart. I am here to save you." "I know you, but I don't know you, Henry. Maybe we should start with that?" "I..." Henry gulped, visibly embarrassed, eyes glued down to his hat, fingers anxiously picking at the rim. "I will tell you."

You studied him. His mannerisms. It was Henry and yet it was a version of him you couldn't recount from the dreams.

"After I showed you the gift I have, and you put your trust in me, I failed you."

His nails stopped scraping the rim of the hat. Henry exhaled deeply.

"There was... an incident. Someone else with a gift like my own, sweetheart. I managed to deal with all but... this one. I... I will not go on much longer; the details would only confuse you more, but I was defeated. It must've been the wave of this friction that affected your mind."

He leaned in, still hesitant, but this time he cradled your head in his palm.

"All you knew... our experience together became locked. In this prison right here." Henry traced your forehead tenderly with his thumb. "And an opaque seal had veiled your memory of me. An abandoned box in an attic which I merely brought back to light." "How did you return if you were defeated? Are you hurt? Henry-" "No... and yes. You see... that bad, bad girl... the one who defeated me... she thought I'd never return. But I was stronger... and I made my way back. She doesn't know yet; she doesn't... wouldn't... and never will understand this gift, but you, sweetheart. You do. You must come with me."

"You told me that the monsters are coming..."

Henry nodded, putting on a worried look, so believable that you scooted closer to him and he draped his arm around you for comfort.

"When that little lady did what she did... " Maybe you didn't have to know more than that. The less you knew for now, the better. "She threw me in a place from where terrible, terrible monsters come. And I know these monsters escaped. And they are coming here..."

You were nervous, but Henry squeezed your hand.

"Now?" "Yes. But the monsters will not be here yet. I... I had to meet you tonight. The time... was too short for a better remembrance." "No, no. I understand. I believe you, dear. Everyone wanted to hurt us back in the lab... you taught me not to put fear first, but to believe in you, because you will liberate us from it."

Henry nodded.

"Are we leaving in the morning?" "We will... I came tonight because I had to unveil the cloak from your memories." "How did you do that?"

Henry smiled again, his hand sliding from the side of your head to your cheek and jaw. "When I was in that place... I learnt how to do many things, sweetheart. But there is still something which we should do. To... assure ourselves that your memory had been fully recovered."

There was a seriousness in Henry's voice that made what he said sound necessary. Mandatory even.

"It would be recommended... that you allow me to touch you. I know. I know. It's scandalous. And your memory is still so foggy, but my touch will make it all clear. Here... permit me."

He leaned in, nervously. Henry stopped right before his lips could touch yours, hesitated, then instead of your lips, he kissed a spot beneath your left ear, making your back arch. A specific soft spot, erogenously inclined, that always made your body react blissfully.

"How did you know..." "This one was just a hunch."

Henry continued kissing, lower across your neck, to your clavicle, lips trailing across the bone to your shoulder, and then the other, then reaching his kisses slightly to your back, pushing himself to slightly hover over you. Then he rode up your ear with the kisses again.

"I was so terribly scared, sweetheart. I didn't know what came of you... if you survived. I was so frightened..."

His honeyed voice sounded truthful to your ears.

Especially with the memories flooding back.

But was Henry really honest? Had he ever been honest with you?

"Here, sweetheart. I can finally be with you again...."

Henry kicked his shoes off and climbed into bed, pulling you into his chest so that your back was resting against him. His legs opened, and yours did too, and his hand began stroking your sides, kneading the flesh as his head came to rest against the back of your shoulder.

"You smell good, sweetheart. Do you remember? In the lab you always told me how awful that sterile smell was. How... appalling..." Henry's hand went to the hem of your shirt, sliding underneath to feel your breasts.

Waking you from sleep meant the likelihood of finding a bra on his way was minimal, and he was glad to be right. His thumb grazed around your nipple, his lips applying hot kisses at the back of your shoulder, the chill sensation of his glasses' temples prickling the side of your neck.

He felt the shiver and grinned against your shoulder, kissing it again.

"We cannot do much tonight, sweetheart, but I can make you feel good. You trust me, I know you do. Just let go... let me take care of-" "You smell good too. Is that... [Favourite fragrance] How did you know it was my favourite?"

"...Another hunch," Henry smirked teasingly, but you couldn't turn back to see the reaction on his face. "We have similar preferences, sweetheart. Your mind is a part of mine. Remember? I only had to come back and rekindle that. But too much talk... shhh. Close your eyes now."

His hand slid lower, to your stomach and thighs, playing with his nails on the fabric, causing you to grow aroused by the second, to demand more. Your hips arched, but Henry continued, patiently teasing you until he heard you wince.

Then his hand slipped inside your pyjama shorts, middle finger brushing against your panties, feeling them damp under his soothing touch. His lips still on your shoulder and neck became needier too, nipping the spots and suckling softly before releasing the skin with a slight pop, adorning your shoulder with the marking of his hickey.

His finger slipped beneath the panties, middle and ring finger prodding your hole, feeling your slick coating his fingers. You mewled, ready to take his fingers, but it wasn't enough. Henry felt that your hole needed a little more lubrication, so he pulled his hand out of your shorts and brought his fingers to your mouth.

"Sweetheart, open your mouth for me..."

He made you suck on his fingers, the sight so erotic and suggestive his own trousers felt tight. Yet he wanted to focus on you. He brought his fingers back underneath the panties, this time easing his two fingers inside you and thrusting them gently.

At first slow, until you warmed up, "That's it, sweetheart... this area... your pelvis... Let loose... good." His fingers picked up the pace. "Relax... relax, sweetheart. You're becoming tense. Keep loose... let your weight on me... all of it... let that mind free... don't brace it. Let go... let me take over."

Henry's words were less and less in your ears and more so in your mind, your entire body becoming familiar with this sensation of complete surrender to him. His fingers continued working inside you, the heel of his palm working to tease your clit at the same time.

His other arm wrapped around your middle, keeping you snug into him as he felt your orgasm closing in, building up around his finger.

"I'm..." "Shhh... let it all go..."

And you did.

Your mind once more surrendered to him, to the blissful sensation of your cunt throbbing and squeezing around his fingers, satisfied and yet aching for more.

But more wouldn't come tonight.

Henry helped you gradually come down your climax before taking his fingers out and licking them clean. He let your body rest against his, your embrace enough to soften him up just enough so he would return it.

"I... I missed you. Even though I couldn't remember you. I missed you. I always felt... Something was missing." "It was never missing. It was right there, sweetheart. In the unconscious... It had always been there..."

You smiled.

Your smart, brilliant, Henry. You let yourself doze off in his arms, knowing there was a lot to catch up on the next day. But for now... you could rest. You were safe. If anyone could keep you safe, that was Henry.

Henry sighed.

His soft expression relaxed, in his usual more rougher one, with sharper edges and less honeyed hints. His brow furrowed, his cheeks relaxed... and he let a deep exhale leave his lungs.

How gullible... He almost felt bad.

He almost felt bad for doing this to you.

These false memories that he planted in your mind...

It was a shame it wanted you. The Mind Flayer... It had instructed him to bring you. Henry Creel had always been serving this duty on his own, but this time he was pushed to bring over another... you.

Why you? Hm.

At the very least... you were so willing to believe him, so unlikely to put up any opposition to the infestation of your mind that he could perhaps accept it. Henry Creel could make peace with knowing that, for the time being, to achieve the true natural order... he would have to be seconded by you.

NOTE: Part 5! <3 love y'all

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It was due to an unforeseen situation that your servant was gone for the time. The man's duty was to keep to the estate's fireplaces, but he left for a while, on an announced leave, to attend the marriage of his sister.

The Colonel, being a good-hearted man, gave the servant a longer leave and paid for a wedding gift and for a horse to take the man home. As always, the Colonel put others ahead of himself, and you could only be glad to see how caring he was. You saw men around yourself, but all faded in comparison to Brandon, none able to be as tender and thoughtful, well-read and respectable as him.

And above all, with a financial situation that permitted you to live most comfortably. Even the Colonel's servants were paid generously, given time for themselves when needed, and never complained of the head of the house.

But now, with the servant gone and Colonel temporarily away, you desired to become an aid to the remaining servants and put on the fire with them.

The maids insisted there was no need, "Mrs Brandon, I implore you to spare your delicate hands from the rough bark, lest they be marred by such coarse labour." or "Pray, lady, desist! I fear you shall sustain a burn; the fire is quite formidable, and the Colonel would be excessively distressed to find you in such peril."

But you were stubborn and, as the servants had predicted, upon feeding the flame, it flurried and touched your hand. Even though you pulled it out of their way, the flame was swifter and had managed to make your skin ache. You sat by the fireplace in your room, glancing at your hand. The rush masked the pain. But then, as you watched the skin, a gurgling, piercing pain started trickling almost underneath it.

You hissed. Good thing the other servants were not here. Only their scolding was at the back of your mind.

The pain had managed to pull you out of the momentary confusion. What was there to do? Cool water... but then the servants would know. They would be concerned and make an unnecessary fuss of it.

There must be cool water to aid yourself at the well in the garden.

So you went to the door when it opened timidly.

"My darling, I feared for a moment you might have retired for the evening; the estate seemed quite unnervingly still." His eyes timidly found yours, and a soft smile formed on the Colonel's features. "I must beg your pardon for this intrusion; I only hope I have not disturbed your rest."

"Oh, not at all. I was merely on my way to the garden. I did not expect that you should return so soon."

"The garden? Ah, indeed. You may have noticed I have brought a few more exotic species, though they have taken quite well to our soil, thank-" The Colonel's eyes, despite their soft contempt, were quick to notice the discomfort in yours and instinctively he searched the cause.

Your hand.

The burn was small, but he knew you as he did the icon of a saint, and thus the brighter marking caught his attention. He lifted your palm, carefully to avoid touching the sore spot, judging by the hue that it must have just happened. The garden?... the well.

He didn't make a fuss. He didn't cause any ruckus. He nodded thoughtfully, understanding at once and following you to the well. There were hardly any words spoken as he concentrated his focus on pouring droplets of cool water on your burn and watching your grimaces, trying to estimate the pain, if he should ride for a doctor. He would have... but the burn didn't seem severe, only painful, and he already knew you didn't like to alert the entire estate for something you deemed minor.

"Are you angry because I have been injured?"

The Colonel raised his head, confused at the question. You were hurt, in pain. Why would he be the one harmed when you were suffering? His brow furrowed, and he continued pouring water over the marking, "I... you must forgive me, for I cannot fathom why I should feel anger." "Because I have hurt myself." "That provides no cause for me to be angered. It is merely concern and worry that I feel, my love; nothing more." "You are a good man..."

The Colonel's palm was large enough that yours seemed to pale in comparison. He held yours in his, brushing the unmarked skin, trying to use the light pressure to soothe you, guide your mind away from the pain.

"How much pain does it cause you, my dear?" "I... I do not feel it at all."

The Colonel's lips tugged in a small smile. "Then you must be of a stronger constitution than I, for I should certainly have winced at such a thing." He wouldn't have. He was used to so much worse, but he knew the comment would make you smile. And he was right.

"You arrived at the perfect moment." "Indeed; had I been a minute later, I should have missed you entirely. How downcast I would have been to seek you in our chambers and find you absent." "But you would have searched the garden."

The Colonel nodded, putting aside the cup he used to pour water on your burn. He scanned the surface, which reddened but not blistered. It would sting for a few days... but there was little more he could do now. He would ride out to the doctor... but not to your knowledge. He'd use a herbal aid without alerting you of its source. For now, it was sufficient that he should keep his calm. It was under control, as all should be.

"I should have; it is the garden I would have inspected first. Yet, by the time I discovered you, you might have successfully concealed your injury." "Is that such a bad thing, my Colonel?"

He nodded, leaning down and placing a kiss on your knuckles, away from the sore spot.

"It is my solemn duty to look after you. I do not wish for you to hide any suffering from me; I desire only to care for you, as any husband ought to care for his beloved wife."