Andrew Joseph Minyard doesn’t know a thing about Nathaniel Wesninski until he’s sent to kill him.
That’s perhaps more unusual than one would suspect, knowing Andrew. His general disinterest is well known, but he has a personal stake in knowing the movers and shakers of the magical families on the East Coast.
Know your enemies, and all that. Andrew didn’t used to have those, until he met Kevin Day and finally picked a side that wasn’t himself and his best interests. Now he kills people for righteousness, or what the fuck ever.
“The Wesninskis have a new leader,” Wymack tells them, hands folded on his desk like this is very serious news. “It’s Nathan’s kid, apparently. He’s cleaned house. Or it might be more accurate to say that he wiped the old circle off of the map entirely.”
Like he always does, Kevin goes pale at the mention of one of those families. Wymack flicks him a glance before continuing, “It’s not immediately clear where he stands on the old family alliances, but it makes sense for us to move now while he’s unsettled.”
Andrew can see where this is going already. “I didn’t realise we were killing off children now.”
Wymack shoots him a level look. “He’s twenty-two. Barely younger than you.”
“Well, I suppose that’s alright then,” Andrew replies agreeably. “When do I leave?”
“Hold on. Didn’t he kill his own father?” Nicky cuts in. “Shouldn’t that require a little more investigation than ‘when do I leave’?”
Dan waves a hand. “He’s a mage. Killer or not, he won’t be able to protect himself against non-magical weapons.”
“Don’t worry Nicky. I don’t like to be too well prepared,” Andrew says. It’s not meant to be soothing.
That’s how he ends up crawling through an upper-storey window of the Wesninski mansion, cursing mages and rusted locks. The house is probably warded - Andrew couldn’t say. To him it’s just like breaking into any other house.
What he does notice is the complete emptiness of the building. While mages don’t often have non-magical defence - and Andrew would be a lot less successful if they invested in some attack dogs, or even burglar alarms - they do generally at least have people. But every room he passes - soundlessly, of course - has its door flung wide open to display its total emptiness.
Every instinct he has is screaming. For a moment, he wonders if Wesninski has cleared out of the house entirely. But, despite the limited information for this trip, Andrew knows Wymack wouldn’t send him on a wild goose chase. The mage is here.
He creeps down the stairs, sticking close to the wall. It’s a broad staircase, gaudy even in the near-darkness. Apparently the elder Wesninski had more money than taste.
The lounge is no more elegant, and still empty of people. Beyond it, though, light falls from the doorway. Andrew creeps towards it, palming one of his knives.
Apparently, all his quiet was wasted. The person through the door is waiting for him - and this, having met Nathan, is definitely his son.
Twenty-two he may be, but Wesninski looks like a kid. With his fair falling into his face as he slouches against the kitchen island, he looks nothing like someone who could have killed Nathan and the entire rest of his circle in one fell swoop. Any tracery of magic in him isn’t detectable to Andrew though - for all he knows, the air could be singing with it.
The only giveaway that this man isn’t as normal as Andrew is the curling tattoo emerging over the collar of his t-shirt. It’s a mage-mark, and it’s large. Even Kevin, the most powerful of the Foxes in terms of sheer strength, doesn’t have one that extends so far across his skin.
“You’re AJ Minyard,” Wesninski says. He looks excited about that. Andrew didn’t realise he was a groupie. It’s the danger of being a contract killer - being known by your signature. Andrew is Andrew, except when he’s AJ and earning his keep in blood.
“Usually, your kind is throwing spells by now,” he replies blandly. Not that it ever helps them.
“That would be a waste of time, though. Wouldn’t it?” Wesninski says. “You’re immune.”
Well then. “You’re smarter than you look,” Andrew informs him.
“It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why you’re so successful,” Wesninski shrugs. “I need to send a message to Kevin.”
Wesninski isn’t following the script. Andrew glances at his watch - usually they’d have gotten past the initial failed attempt to blast Andrew off of the face of the earth with magic and moved onto either running - unusual, mages didn’t like to run - or begging. “Do I look like a messenger to you?”
That earns a thin smile. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is that demeaning?”
“If you think I’m here for that, then you’re confused,” Andrew says.
Wesninski throws his arms wide. “Well, go ahead then. You know I can’t fight you. And it’s not like I can run.”
Fuck’s sake, Andrew didn’t come here for a conversation. Still, though - he throws a glance at Wesninski’s legs. “Too lazy for it?”
“Not exactly. I know you probably don’t care for magical theory, so the short explanation is that right now I can’t leave this house. Hence wanting to speak with Kevin. The best I could do is hide in a closet, and I can’t imagine that would deter you.”
“As sob-stories go, you might want to try ‘but I have children and a wife’,” Andrew advises.
“As if that would help me.” Wesninski rolls his eyes. “That’s fine. I wasn’t expecting you to help me for free. I’ll give you something you want in exchange.”
Andrew really should have just killed him instead of saying a word. Corpses are so much less trouble. He raises an eyebrow to signal that his patience is wearing thin.
“If you want a chance at getting anywhere near Riko Moriyama, you’ll help me,” Wesninski says.
That’s an interesting offer. “What makes you think I care about that?”
“Do you think it isn’t common knowledge in the upper circles about what happened between him and Kevin?” Wesninski says. “Plus you’ve been working your way through all the high blood families over the last year. I figured a Moriyama must be right up there on your wish list. Particularly that one.”
He isn’t wrong. “I’m not here to make a deal with you.”
“Are you sure about that?” That smile again. It’s really a wonder someone so irritating hasn’t been killed already. “I have access to the Moriyamas now, whether they like it or not. I think you’d like to make use of that. Better move fast, though - you aren’t the only one who wants to kill me.”
Riko would already be dead if he were easier to get to. And Nathaniel now has his father’s seat on the council, even if he killed for it - succession is muddy and ugly amongst mages at the best of times. He’d hardly be the first to do it that way.
He’s right. Andrew could use that. Getting into Castle Evermore is difficult, and Nathaniel has a free pass through the front gates. If he could smuggle Andrew inside…if he were willing to do so…
“What’s in it for you?” Andrew asks.
“What, you mean besides you not murdering me tonight and me getting out of this fucking house?” So sardonic. “I don’t like the Moriyamas any more than you do, Wesninski blood or no. I don’t care if I die, as long as Riko goes first.”
It seems their interests all line up. Andrew can deal with Riko at last, and might even get a shot at the other Moriyamas in the process. He smiles a little bit, feeling his face cracking.
“Well, Nathaniel. Looks like you might be useful to me after all.”
Wesninski makes a face. “I go by ‘Nate’.”
“I really don’t care,” Andrew tells him. “I would say ‘wait here’, but I suppose that’s irrelevant, isn’t it? I’ll come to you.”
The with a message or a knife is unspoken but clearly implied. Nathaniel - Nate - smiles thinly.
“Better hurry,” he says. “Offer ends if I’m dead.”
“Girl you know I want your love Your love was handmade for somebody like me Come on now follow my lead I may be crazy don’t mind me “ “Say boy let’s not talk too much Grab on my waist and put that body on me Come on now follow my lead Come come on now follow my lead”
Everyone at Derry High School knew of the senior Richie Tozier. No matter who they were, what social group they were apart of, they all knew of the trashmouth. Every girl swooned over him and every gay (and possibly ‘not’ gay) guy would beg for his number. He was the ‘It’ guy in his high school and even the other high schools in the Derry school district. It was common knowledge that Richie was bi. Some people said it was fake and that he said it for more attention, but his real friends knew it wasn’t bullshit at all.
Richie strode into the school building that Monday morning, casually sliding off his sunglasses and hooking them in his shirt. People in the hallways snuck glances at him, some even saying hello to him politely as he passed. He nodded in response, flashing them a smile. Richie approached his locker and opened it with ease, getting his few textbooks out. Despite being a ‘jock’, he still cared about his grades.
“Hey, Rich, did you hear about the new kid?” Beverly asked casually, making her presence known. She leaned against the navy blue lockers, a small smile playing on her lips.
Summary: It’s 1993 and the summer from many years ago is dead and gone. Many have drifted apart from the Losers club and its at the point where there is no club at all. The atmosphere is cold just like the winter months and the only blushes to be found are the ones that are caused from the piercing spikes of cold that heat skin up. Being a teenage boy is hard; especially for the two boys that now count each other as strangers. In which both boys make a plan, but both disrupt each others.
Warning(s): Depression, angst and fluff throughout the whole series, suicide attempt
A/N: Im so happy at how much support part 1 got?? Thankyou all so so so fucking much ily all also!! credit to @finn-got-tall for an idea in one of the scenes!! (I wont reveal which scene bc i want people to just read) but ty lovely
Eddie and Richie blinked at each other, stunned to see one another in such a strange coincidence. Eddie still had his hand up, but Richie still hadn’t took it. Richie merely brought his hand up that held the cigarette, taking a drag and allowing the toxic waste to decay against his lungs. Eddie visibly cringed at the sight, but stayed silent; he only continued to watch in hope that Richie would somehow step down. Richie took away the small stick, blowing the smoke out slowly and staring at Eddie through his large obnoxious eye glasses.
“Why are you here, Eds?” Richie asked, as if a day hadn’t passed since they last talked.
alright, so the reason eddie hates being called ‘eds’ or ‘eddie spaghetti’ or any other nickname is because his dad used to call him that. now that mr. kaspbrak is gone, eddie just represses any part of him because he knows there’s no more “ed’s! come down here, it’s dinner time!” or “eddie spaghetti, lemme show you something” and these names are just a reminder of his dad and it hits him so hard each time he hears it…but he wouldn’t tell anyone that. but one day he confesses it all to richie through tear filled eyes and ends up sobbing to him over a nickname, but richie just hugs him and vows him that he will never bring it up again and apologizes profusely. and while richie is smoothing eddies hair and eddie is still crying, eddie just looks at him and shakes his head and begs him to still call him those names as much as he tells him not to
What are you looking for, Eddie? - A Reddie Mini Fic
So I was asked by @dauntlessqueen99 to write a fic where Eddie was taken by Pennywise instead of Beverly. It’s been done many times before but I hope this is kind of something different? It’s pretty damn long and it’ll be under the cut but yeah, hope you guys enjoy!