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nandawrites · 1 year

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A Fairy With Broken Wings

Relationship: Matthew Fairchild/Thomas Lightwood

Additional Tags: Getting Together, Break Up Talk, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Sharing secrets, Confessions, Emotional Baggage, Crying, Angst

Summary: The first time Thomas says "I love you" doesn't go as he expected.

A/N: I wrote this for a friend a long time ago and just realised I never posted it! Not sure how many people are still interested in this rare pair but I hope you all like it!

If you prefer, also read it on AO3!

~~**~~

The ticking of the clock on the wall was maddening in the silence. It set Thomas’ nerves on edge, making his leg bounce and sweat trickle down his temple as he waited for the boy by his side to say something. Matthew had opened his mouth and closed it again so many times, wriggling his discarded jacket in his hands, looking desperate, empty and half-mad, but he had yet to say something even if he had been the one that had asked to talk. It was slowly driving Thomas insane with him, heart aching with worry, but he was determined to give him as much time as he needed to be able to trust him with something that was clearly so important.

He really, really hoped Matthew wasn’t about to break up with him. He didn’t think he was, they had been happy ever since he had confessed to him. At the time, he had stammered, been unclear, but even then Matthew had told him his feelings were reciprocated, had kissed him, so now after all these weeks he had thought it was time for a proper confession. They had been alone in their club room, kissing and laughing in hushed voices, and he had felt so overwhelmedly happy he couldn’t help but say it with the full words: “I love you”.

He had dreamily expected surprise, tenderness, a kiss and a reply as soft as his confession. He hadn’t expected Matthew to freeze like a deer caught in headlights, looking panicked and guilty, and say he had something serious to tell him. He couldn’t be breaking up with him, could he? That would be extremely cruel and that was something that didn’t fit Matthew at all.

Matthew opened his mouth again, closed it, then finally said:

“You… can’t… You can’t love me.”

Thomas’ heart sank. So he was breaking up with him. But then Matthew shook his head and continued:

“Or, it’s better to say, you shouldn’t- shouldn’t love me. I don’t deserve it, and I have been awful, I’ve been pretending I could have this, when I don’t- I… I just felt so lonely, and I thought, as long as you didn’t say the words, it was ok, that you’d get tired of me eventually and go find someone better, I shouldn’t have let you do this in the first place, get stuck with me, let this go for so long, but I’m bad, I wanted to keep feeling good, but this, I can’t-, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

A sob racked out from Matthew’s throat and Thomas finally realized he hadn’t been looking at him all this time because he was hiding the tears pooling in his eyes. But it seemed that now that the first one had escaped, he couldn’t control it anymore, his voice disappearing in between the desperate, tearing, cries and the wheezes for breath even as he tried to keep apologizing. In shock, Thomas reached out to him only to be pushed away, Matthew shaking his head frantically, but the boy was beginning to double over, coughing and heaving from all the crying, so Thomas steeled himself and tried again, pulling Matthew against himself, holding him even as he struggled weakly against the embrace.

“Shhh, Mattie, it’s ok, it’s ok, it will be ok, we can-”

“No! It’s not ok! Nothing will ever be ok! I am a monster! I am a scum lower and more terrible than a demon, I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t even be allowed to exist anymore! I don’t deserve it, and I don’t deserve you, something so nice and good as you, I should have never- But I was feeling so alone, but I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“Matthew!” Thomas was shocked, struggling to comprehend the meaning of the words and where they could have possibly come from. Ever since he had known Matthew, he had always been a beacon of light in the dreary society of the Nephilim, drawing everyone in and warming and helping them like the sun. They might all have the blood of angels, but Matthew was the closest thing to an actual angel on earth that he could imagine. None of the things he was saying made any sense to him, and he was petrified at the idea Matthew had been feeling so bad all this time and he had never noticed it.

“Matthew, I do not know what you mean, how could you possibly believe that. You are better than any one of us, if you are a monster then we are all damned.”

But Matthew was shaking his head again, another sob escaping him as he hid his face against Thomas now. He could feel the tears soaking through his shirt.

“I’m not, I’m, not. You don’t know. You don’t know what I did, I’m the worst, the worst, the worst, the worst. I’m the one that sh-should be dead, not her, not her.”

“Who?”

“My sister! My- The baby Mother was, was carrying. I- I killed her. And almost my mother too. It was my fault. It was all my fault. I poisoned my own mother. Killed the baby she was carrying. Broke my mother’s and my father’s spirit. I hurt them forever. Do you understand what I’m saying? I’m a monster, a murderer, it was my fault. You have been kissing a murderer, and I have been letting you, I am the lowest of lowest on all accounts, so you can’t love me. I won’t- won’t let you.”

Matthew pulled away again and this time Thomas was too petrified to stop him. His mind was simultaneously frozen and working on overdrive, trying to comprehend the confession that had just been trusted to him. He couldn’t believe it, didn’t want to believe it, that couldn’t have just been it, there must be another or some deeper explanation, but with the way Matthew was looking so distraught… No, he wouldn’t allow the other’s panic to infect him, he had to keep a level head to understand the situation. He took a deep breath and centered himself.

“Could you tell me what happened? From the start?”

His calm seemed to startle Matthew as well, he stopped crying so hard and started sniffing, rubbing at his eyes to send the tears away. He nodded.

“I… My parents they don’t… tell me things. I thought that… because I am not serious minded or dependable like Charles Bufford, that they wouldn’t trust me with anything serious. Everyone was unhappy and tense and I could see they were hiding something from me. I thought… Thought Mama was going to leave, that she didn’t love Papa anymore, that everyone knew it but me. I wanted to know, but I couldn’t… couldn’t bring myself to ask. And I was at the Shadow Market and… this Fairy woman was selling potions, she said, she implied, she had a potion that would make people tell you the truth and I- I bought it. I put a drop of it in my mother’s scones for breakfast because I- I wanted to know. She took a bite and that was when- when she fell. And we had to call the Silent Brothers and aunt Tessa and she almost… It was my fault. It was because of the potion, it was me who- who, poisoned her, I…”

He had begun to cry again, but Thomas waited a little more, could see he wasn’t done talking.

“I thought they didn’t trust me, but I was the one that didn’t trust them. I believed something bad about them when I knew I shouldn’t, I didn’t listen to you even with all the warnings you gave me, I wasn’t open and honest with them so of course they wouldn’t be open and honest with me. I plotted and mistrusted and didn’t have faith in the people I love. If it was you- if it was any of you, this wouldn’t happen, but I’m- I’m not good. I’m not like you. So I caused this, I broke my whole family and then I lied about it, and I tricked you into, into thinking I was someone worth of your love but I’m not. I can’t lie anymore, I can’t…”

His voice got swallowed again and Thomas watched, his heart was breaking for Matthew, that had carried this secret and this pain for years now, the guilt of something that was, but wasn’t really his to bear. It was an enormous, giant guilt, and Thomas had no idea how to even begin to unravel it, how he could help fix it or make it better, but more than anything he had ever felt before in his life, he knew he had to try. Instead of diminishing, like Matthew had probably expected it would, his love for the other only grew stronger, for he had been trusted with the darkest, most shameful parts of him, and still saw the goodness in it. Matthew was his light, and he wouldn’t let it be caged by darkness any longer.

He reached out again and held the other tight against him, firm, but gentle. The promise of a rock that could share the weight of his sin and wear on it until it was gone. The promise of support and understanding and love through the difficult times they would have ahead. If Matthew would let him, he would stay by his side until the end of the world. “You didn’t know… No, Matthew, listen to me, you didn’t know. You never meant for this to happen, you were tricked. Everyone can be insecure and make mistakes, that is normal. You made a mistake, but it wasn’t you that poisoned your mother, it was that fairy. She took advantage of you, of your insecurities, to cause pain and misfortune. It wasn’t your fault, please believe me, it wasn’t your fault.”

He could feel Matthew trembling and shaking his head against him, denying it, saying it was his fault, everything, but Thomas kept repeating it, over and over again. He would keep repeating it as many times as it took for Matthew to believe him, he would keep holding him for as long as he needed until he could stand back on his own feet, he would be by his side every step on the way to recovery, until his flame burned as bright as it did before. He promised.

And if he ever ran into that fairy during his life, he would make sure she had a painful slow death for what she had caused. That he also promised.

But that he didn’t say.

#fairwood #matthew fairchild #thomas lightwood #tlh #the last hours #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #fanfiction #mine #original #nanda writes #drabble #writings

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tscevents · 2 years

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I did some draws to see in which months each week could happen and this was the result, what do you think?

herongraystairs: july

heronstairs: april

heronwood: march

charlottehenry: july

herondaisy: november

luciejesse: march

thomastair: october

kitty: april

kiermarktina: december

fairwood: november

Does anyone who has read chain of iron know when the herondaisy wedding probably took place? I will only read this book when chain of thorns comes out and I have confirmation that they are endgame

#herondaisy #herongraystairs #heronstairs #heronwood #fairwood #charlottehenry #kitty #luciejesse #thomastair #kiermarktina #tmi #tda #tlh #tid #twp #sobh #tsc

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yescrazycatlady10 · 1 year

Video

youtube

The Cause Of Eclipses! A Tales From Fairwood Short! (2023) #Shorts

#youtube #FAIRWOOD

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the-opposite-and-the-mirror · 2 months

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Nyah Fairwood Bane - The Opposite and The Mirror

An updated version of this set.

#Nyah Fairwood Bane #About Nyah

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irishk0rn · 2 years

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Shaw: Rumors have been spreading around Stormwind about Anduin; that he’s gay.

Flynn: Is he?

Shaw: That is irrelevant.

Flynn: So he is...

Shaw: Flynn.

#World Of Warcraft #Gay #Flynn x Mathias #Shaw x Fairwood #Flynn Fairwood x Mathias Shaw #Anduin #Anduin Wrynn #King Anduin #Wranduin is implied #Wrathion x Anduin #Anduin x Wrathion #Wranduin #Quotes #Anduin is gay

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shmayaidan · 2 years

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337 huntington/the fairwoods, apartment 512, standard double.

Fantastic location and a pretty nice building. Only real complaint is that the heaters still go on (you can’t turn them off in some rooms) when it’s far too hot out but a lot of people reported this so hopefully that will be fixed soon.

#337 #fairwoods

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xoxoladyaz · 5 months

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Steddie Bigbang #177: Infernally Yours is HERE!

Finally, after months of work I am SO HAPPY to start publishing my contribution to @steddiebang, a post-Season 3 AU in which Hopper doesn't go to Russia, the Byers family stays in Hawkins, and Steve Harrington finally agrees to play DnD with Hellfire. Chapters 1 and 2 are up today, chapters 3 and 4 will go up on the 9th, and the last two chapters (and the epilogue) will be posted on the 16th.

Here's the link to the story on Ao3 and a preview below :) I can't wait to see what you all think!

Listen. Steve Harrington knew that he had some sins to pay for, okay? He was kind of a stuck-up shit for most of high school and while he didn’t go out of his way to, like, ruin anybody’s day – cough, cough, Tommy Hagan – he also didn’t really reach out to anyone who needed help either. He’d led on a lot of girls before Nance, too, and if judging by the fact that the only girls he dated these days wanted a good time and not a long time, well, he had some work to do on the whole “relationship” and “finding everlasting love” front. But he’s done the work to be better! Granted, a lot of the work consisted of him getting beaten up and/or tortured by other people while protecting a group of unthankful little shitheads, but it’s still progress. And, not to brag, but he got Robin Buckley as a best friend out of the whole thing, so really, Steve Harrington’s not doing so bad on the whole “redemption” thing, thank you.

So why, why does the universe continue to torment him?

“ – and that’s when Lorcan Fairwood used Horde Breaker to fire into the pack of gnolls, dealing five points of damage to Kazar, the gnoll pack leader, and then Eddie said - ”

“Dingus,” Robin hissed, knocking her elbow into Steve’s and dislodging him from his thoughts. “Get Dingus Junior to knock-it-off with this dork talk before I knock him into the recent returns.”

Groaning, Steve rubbed his palms against his dry eyes and braced for impact. “We got it, Henderson, Munson’s the best thing to ever happen to Dorks and Demons - ”

“ – Dungeons and Dragons, Steve, I know that you know that’s what it’s called - ”

“ – and as much as I like hanging out with you, dude, these multi-hour play-by-plays aren’t convincing me that this nerd shit is, like, fun or whatever,” he finished with a sigh. Robin shot him an exasperated but grateful look and then slid her newest stack of freshly rewound returns his way.

“Shelving time, doinkus.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve rolled his eyes and reached for the stack.

Dustin snorted and kicked at the front of his desk, which, the attitude on this kid, seriously. “Guess Eddie was right.”

Steve froze. What the hell does that mean?

“What the hell does that mean?”

Dustin snorted again before spinning to face Steve, his hands falling to his hips. “Eddie said says that jocks only care about other jocks. And jock stuff.”

“Hey, okay, first of all, there’s only one of us that’s actually saved your life multiple times and it’s not Eddie Munson, so jot that down,” Steve snapped, dropping the tapes back onto the counter (and ignoring Robin’s yelp as they tumbled everywhere). “And second, just because we don’t have the same interests doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, man. That’s a shit thing to say.”

Henderson folded inward, his eyes dropping towards the ground and voice losing its normal intensity. “Sorry, Steve.”

“And third – look, Henderson,” Steve sighed at Dustin’s drooping. (Look, he was a little shithead with the biggest ego in every room, but he was Steve’s little shithead and he hated to see him upset – even when it was his own fault.) “Maybe it isn’t like, totally boring in the moment or whatever, but getting a two-hour play by play after your game every Saturday isn’t doing a whole lot to convince me, man.”

“Well,” Dustin perked up slightly and cleared his throat, “we’re always looking for new members - ”

“Nope, no way.”

“Steve,” Henderson’s whining was out in full force now, “it would be so much fun! You wouldn’t even have to do that much work; I could help you get started and - ”

“No.”

“ – seriously, I can make you a character sheet so fast, and our party could really use another fighter anyways - ”

“No, Henderson!”

“ – besides, we haven’t gotten to hang out with you as much now that school started, and you know that Will’s having a hard time because everyone keeps calling him ‘Zombie Boy’ and he would be so excited to have you playing with us - ”

Shit, he’s pulling out the Zombie Boy card. Shit, shit, shit.

“Henderson - ”

“ – and, you know, I totally believe you and everything but Mike is pretty convinced that you’re still an asshole, especially with everything Eddie’s said, and this could be your chance to prove him wrong!” Dustin finished emphatically, his chest puffing with exertion.

Steve shot an exasperated look over the top of the Horror section towards Robin, who was pouting in mock-agreement with Dustin.

Traitor.

Sighing, Steve shoved Friday the 13th onto the shelf and dropped his gaze towards Dustin. “One game.”

Dustin let out a loud whoop, hopping in place and punching wildly at the air. “YES!”

“Just one game, Henderson, that’s it.”

“I’LL TAKE IT!” Letting out an even louder victory cry, Dustin raced for the door. “I’m going to get working on your character sheet right now – Wednesday, 3:30 in the drama room,” Dustin said, whirling around to point at Steve. “You’ll be there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there.”

“YES! Don’t worry Steve, you won’t regret this!” Dustin beamed and then he was out the door, disappearing into the October sun.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie big bang #steve harrington my beloved #hellfire club

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kateelliottsff · 9 months

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The History of the World Begins in Ice

I’m delighted to announce that, in Summer 2024, Fairwood Press will be publishing a collection of stories and essays from the Spiritwalker (Cold Magic) universe, titled

THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD BEGINS IN ICE:

Stories and Essays from the World of Cold Magic.

That’s right! A collection of fiction and non fiction from and about my Afro-Celtic post-Roman icepunk adventure set in an alt-fantasy 19th century Earth alongside a perilous spirit world, and including Phoenician spies, well-dressed men, revolutionary-minded women, and of course lawyer dinosaurs.

The collection will be published in a trade paperback edition and an ebook edition. It will contain eleven stories and eleven essays, as well as an introduction by N.K. Jemisin.

Each story will have an illustration by a different artist. The collection will include “The Secret Journal of Beatrice Hassi Barahal” with all 28 of the original Julie Dillon illustrations, previously published only in a 300 copy chapbook edition. Here’s the narrator of the trilogy, Cat Barahal, as drawn by Julie Dillon.

Nine of the eleven stories were previously published. The other two are being written specifically for this collection.

If there is enough interest, Fairwood Press will produce a limited edition deluxe hardcover edition with two extra color plates (by Julie Dillon), a fold out triptych (by Kelsey Liggett), and a chapbook insert of the infamous smut chapter, “Chapter 31.5,” from Cold Fire. I can’t promise exact figures (and recent cost of paper increases may mean my guess is way out of date) but likely in the $40-50 range for a book of about 100,000 words.

You can express interest here (comment below or reply via email) or by writing directly to Fairwood Press. If you are interested, please (if you can) write in as soon as possible since creating a deluxe edition will take additional work, monetary investment, and time (that we would be delighted to take on).

Pre-order information will come as soon as it is available.

I first started thinking in autumn 2018 about producing this collection with a Fall 2020 publication date to coincide with the 10th anniversary of the publication of Cold Magic. Events conspired against me at the time, by which I mean I didn’t have the energy or time to move forward with it.

So I am incredibly thrilled to work with Patrick Swenson and Fairwood Press to bring this long-dreamt-of project to life and share it with all of you Spiritwalker fans.

#Spiritwalker Trilogy #Cold Magic #Kate Elliott #themed short story collection #fantasy #short fiction #lawyer dinosaurs #The History of the World Begins in Ice #Catevai

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cmrosens · 2 days

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16 days to go until THE CROWS is re-released, so I thought I'd do a countdown with the book's timeline. OTD in Pagham-on-Sea, Carrie tries to come to terms with the fact her house is alive.

"Carrie lay awake inside a sleeping house, listening to its ticking heartbeat keeping time to her pulse and striking the hours."

THE CROWS - C. M. Rosens

UK (May 2024): tinyurl.com/38258z5v US (Oct 2024): tinyurl.com/msvz4pbp

Her fate is sealed. Her death is inevitable...

Carrie Rickard, leaving an abusive relationship back in London, tries to escape her past by throwing herself into her restoration project: Fairwood House, known to locals of Pagham-on-Sea as The Crows.

Unable to resist as it whispers to her, Carrie’s obsession only grows when she discovers it was the site of a gruesome unsolved murder. As she digs deeper into the mystery, she awakens dark and dangerous forces.

Cue an introduction to her foul-mouthed neighbour, Ricky Porter, who is as obsessed with The Crows as Carrie is, and who has several secrets of his own. Not least of which are what’s really under his hood, and what he’s got in the cellar...

A chilling gothic horror novel of haunted houses, eldritch monsters and things that go bump in the night.

#writeblr #books books books #gothic horror #eldritch horror #horror books #horror fiction #horror stories #horror #writers on tumblr #new books #book recs #indie writers #indie horror #indie author #lgbtq horror

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teaandbatteries · 1 year

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Willing Sacrifice - Mason x Evelynn

Her heartbeat. It was quiet, it was uneven, it was stuttering, but it was there. The sound of it was the last thread holding Mason's sanity in place.

He was standing in front of the closed door of the operating theater, deep in the heart of the medical wing of the Agency's Wayhaven facility. Forehead pressed against the harsh steel door, he closed his eyes and forced himself to take slow breaths; with each inhale, he counted the beats of the fluttering heart, muted but audible through the door.

There were other hearts beating within, of course - Elidor's steady thump, underlining the quicker, anxious beats the two nurses. But they were easy to ignore in favour of the unsteady, fluttering pulse he needed. It felt like his own heart was beating in time with hers - hanging still in terror with each pause, afraid that the previous beat would be the last he might hear, and then thudding hard against his ribs in relief the very instant head heard the next.

There were other sensations, too. He was vaguely aware that he was cold, his clothing soaked through with rain and blood. The smell of her blood mixed with acrid medicine clouded around him. And there were voices. Footsteps. Someone was shouting.

His eardrums felt like they were splitting. His sinuses ached. The chilled air felt like a thousand tiny needles on his skin. But it all felt unimportant - hardly more than a vague annoyance. Nothing mattered but listening for the next beat of Evelynn's heart.

Because if he didn't hear it... If she didn't survive.... And it was his fault...

Mason gave a shuddering grunt as his stomach twisted painfully at the thought.

Someone was standing next to him. Close enough that he could feel their body heat, even though they weren't touching him. They were shouting. There was another voice, too, almost as loud, almost as close. He had to strain to hear Evelynn's next heartbeat over the noise. He couldn't care less about the noise itself, but he would end anything that threatened to drown out the only sound that actually mattered.

Mason whipped around to come face-to-face with Rebecca, a vicious snarl ripping out of him - a promise of such violence that Adam took several steps towards them, as if he feared he might have to intervene.

Rebecca didn't move. She didn't even pause in shouting at him. "--supposed to protect her!"

Nate tried to step in, his expression torn. "Agent Fair--"

Rebecca didn't seem to even hear him, continuing her tirade unbroken at Mason. "Explain to me how you let this happen!"

"And you're supposed to be her mother," Mason hissed.

The implication in his tone was finally enough to make Rebecca stop yelling. Her face went ashen with enough anger that it seemed she wasn't able to put her emotions to words.

Mason took a step forward, forcing her back. "So maybe you can explain to me why the fuck she thought it was a good idea to step between me and a fucking bullet!"

The change in Agent Fairwood was instant. The fury twisting her features slackened to horror. "She... what? Why?!"

"You fucking tell me!" Impotent frustration spilled out of Mason in a wordless roar, and he spun on his heel to punch the wall behind him, sending chunks of cinder-block flying.

Adam was next to him an instant later, a hand laid gently over Mason's throbbing fist. His eyes were filled with sympathy, but his tone brooked no argument, "I know. But if you do anything to endanger Evelynn's care, I will remove you."

Mason pulled his lips back, as if to snarl again. But underneath the aimless anger, there was another feeling, suffocating in its power, that demanded he listen because she mattered more than his rage. Mason forced himself to take a deep breath, closed his eyes, and nodded slowly.

In the meantime, Rebecca had collapsed into one of the waiting room benches, staring aimlessly at the door of the operating room. "Why would she...?"

Nate took a seat next to her. "The bullet was laced with DMB."

As Adam withdrew from Mason's side, Mason was left standing with his forehead pressed against the door once again. But it seemed now he remained at least partly aware of what was happening around him, because he ground out a response to Nate's comment; "What the fuck does that matter?"

"Enough to kill most vampires," Felix added softly.

Mason's hands curled into fists. "So? She fucking knows I can handle more DMB than most vampires. I would have been fine."

"Possibly," Adam answered, leaning heavily against the wall. "But evidently, that was not a risk she was willing to take on your life."

This time, another snarl did escape out of Mason as he turned to glare at Adam. "But it was a risk she was willing to take with hers?!"

The waiting room fell into an uncomfortable silence. The answer was obvious, but no one wanted to say it aloud. Mason knew very well that it was true. Nobody needed to say it, and it felt cruel to give unnecessary voice to his torment.

He gave a shuddering breath, one that sounded unpleasantly like a swallowed sob, and let himself slide down the wall to sit on the sterile linoleum, his head bowed and his hands curled tight in his hair.

Rebecca stared down at her hands, blinking rapidly. "I... I wanted it to be a failure. A mistake. A hole in procedure that could be filled. But we can't protect her if she would choose to..."

A sharp breath from Mason interrupted her, and she looked over to see him hunched even further forward, his shoulders pulled up to his ears, his fingers digging into his temples. She fell silent. He'd already borne the weight of her fear through her blame. He didn't need to be burdened further.

---

No one was entirely sure how much time had passed. No one had moved for however long it had been. The heartbeat was still there. Still fluttering. Perhaps just a little stronger.

The operating room door opened to Elidor. Everyone was on their feet in an instant. Most waited with baited breath for news, but Mason had no intention of waiting to hear what had happened to her. He needed to see her. Now.

Elidor didn't even have the chance to speak before Mason had ducked under his arm and disappeared into the operating theater.

"I-- She's not--!" A door slammed from inside, and Elidor pursed his lips in irritation, his gaze swinging back to those still waiting in front of him. "The rest of you can meet me at the observation room down the hall, where she is recovering from surgery." He stepped back and snapped the door shut again, grumbling to himself as he followed Mason.

There was a door inside the operating room which led directly into a series of hospital rooms, intended for those under medical observation after surgery. Evelynn had already been delivered to one when Elidor went to speak with Unit Bravo. Mason was already inside by the time Elidor caught up.

When he opened the door to the observation room, he found Mason seated on the floor next to Evelynn's bed. The position was nearly identical to the one he'd adopted while waiting for news - his head hanging between his knees, his fingers buried in his hair. But the tension threatening to tear him in half had eased; not gone, but lessened enough to make his exhaustion apparent.

Elidor came to a stop just in front of Mason, towering over the vampire with crossed arms. "Do you really think it's a good idea to be in here while you're covered in filth?"

Mason lifted his head slowly to peer down at his hands, smeared with the rusty-brown of dried blood. He didn't answer; he just pushed himself to his feet and trudged to the sink on the other side of the room, where he began to wash his hands. "Get me some scrubs."

Elidor watched, unmoving, with a deep frown. "You hate scrubs."

Mason paused, scowling at him. "Do you want me to change or not?"

Elidor hesitated, pursing his lips. He wanted Mason to go have a shower and get changed properly. And maybe get some sleep. There were rules for a reason, and he was not going to bend them for Mason! He was not!

Elidor scoffed under his breath about "heart-strings" and pulled open a drawer, pulling out a set of blue scrubs and tossing them down on the counter next to Mason. "You need a shower."

Mason huffed out a breath. "Yeah, I know, I just..." His gaze pulled towards the bed as if drawn against his will, making him twist awkwardly even while he was still washing up.

A knock sounded at the door, and Elidor went to answer it, grumbling to himself.

Rebecca and the rest of Unit Bravo waited on the other side, each wearing hope on their faces with varying openness.

"She'll be okay?" Rebecca asked, swallowing against a voice that wobbled slightly.

Elidor nodded. "She was lucky. The bullet ricocheted off one of her ribs and only clipped one of her lungs, and the path was pretty clean. The damage could have been considerably worse. She may lose some mobility in her left shoulder, but she should otherwise make a full recovery. A slow recovery, but a full one."

"Can we see her?" Felix asked.

"She won't wake now until at least morning," Elidor answered, rolling his eyes at Felix's pout. "You can go in and see her, but not all at once. And do not try to wake her up, or I will bar all of you from her room until she's fully recovered."

"We can wait until she wakes," Adam answered - though he was looking at Felix, despite responding to Elidor.

Felix scowled. "What? But--"

Nate offered a reassuring smile. "She's fine. We know she's fine. That should be enough. Besides, we could all use a little rest, after tonight. We'll see her first thing in the morning."

Felix peered into the room, his eyes lighting on Mason, who had returned to his silent vigil at the side of Evelynn's bed. "I... Yeah, alright. I guess."

The rest of Unit Bravo trailed slowly away, leaving only Rebecca to step inside the room. She stayed only a moment - long enough to leave a kiss on Evelynn's forehead - before retreating to prepare a report on this new weapon apparently in use by the Trappers.

She paused at the door, now that everyone else had gone, and looked at Mason. "Agent, I.... apologize for what I said earlier. It was said in fear and..." She sighed. "The truth is, it gives me comfort, knowing she has someone to watch over her when I can't."

And then she left Mason alone with the sound of Evelynn's heart beat.

---

It was difficult to say how much time had passed when another set of footsteps approached the door - ones that didn't belong to one of the medical staff who came in and out to check her status from time to time.

Nate stepped into the room and frowned when he saw Mason, still sitting on the hard floor. It seemed it hadn't moved at all.

"Mason, you need to get some rest." Nate settled down on the floor next to him, peering down at his friend, hoping to see any response at all.

Mason didn't move, but Nate did hear a faint growl rumbling in his chest at the suggestion.

Nate sighed. "Why not? She'll be safe if you go clean up and get some sleep."

There was a long silence, and Nate started to think that maybe Mason was just going to refuse any conversation at all, until grey eyes peered up at him from under a mess of dark hair. "I can't, I need to hear that... that she's alive."

Nate pursed his lips. Mason did need to get some rest, but his heart wouldn't allow him to insist. Not after that. Unless...

Thinking quickly, Nate pushed himself to his feet. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Maybe I can help." And then he disappeared back into the hall.

A half hour later, the footsteps of that telltale long stride could be heard in the hallway again. Nate stepped silently back into the room, and placed a set of clothes on the floor next to Mason, with a plain plastic keycard on top.

Mason peered up at Nate, confusion colouring his expression enough that it was clear even in the dark. "What's this?"

Nate smiled, pushing wet hair back out of his face. "It's a change of clothes, and the key to the bathroom down the hall. It's meant for medical staff but I was able to convince the duty nurse to let you use it, just this once." He took a seat once more on the floor, this time opposite Mason. "There are only two walls between this room and the bathroom." He paused, lowering his voice. "You'll be able to hear her heartbeat in the shower. I checked."

There was silence, and then a deep, shuddering breath from Mason. He winced as he stood, his muscles protesting against having been held still for so long, and gathered up the pile of clothing. "Thanks."

Nate smiled. "Of course. I'll stay with her while you're gone."

---

Nate left shortly after Mason returned, freshly showered and changed out of his bloody clothes. At some point while Mason was gone, someone thought to bring a chair into Evelynn's room. He pulled it as close to her bed as he could manage and settled into it, glad that at least he wasn't going to have to spend the night on the hard floor.

He might have gotten some sleep after that. It was hard to tell if he'd dropped off between beats of her heart. He must have, because even he wouldn't have been able to get through the night without at least some sleep. Not after all that had happened. It couldn't have been long, though; he was never asleep long enough to dream.

He had fallen into a half-aware doze around dawn when Evelynn murmured something in her sleep. He was on his feet the moment he realized he wasn't dreaming her voice, though not fast enough; she woke suddenly, pushing herself upright in bed with a cry of distress, followed immediately by cry of pain as her injuries were wrenched by the motion. Her throat was so dry that it felt almost cracked, and she curled forward, coughing violently.

"Woah, sweetheart, calm down." Mason knelt on the bed next to her, a glass of water already in hand. "You're alright." His arm wrapped low around her hips, pulling her towards him as he pressed the glass to her lips with his other hand. He told himself it was only to steady her as she drank, but there was no point in trying to keep up such an obvious lie. Not when it felt like a vice around his heart released the moment he touched her.

Evelynn emptied the glass, gingerly taking it from him to finish herself. But the moment she could think of anything beyond remembering how to breathe, she looked up at Mason with wide, worried eyes. "Mason." Her voice still sounded weak and shaky, but at least now she could speak without dissolving into a fit of coughs. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Mason scoffed, an echo of that fear-fueled anger surging in him again. "Me?! You're the one who got shot!"

Eve leaned gingerly against his side for support, already feeling like sitting up on her own was too much exertion. She knew she should probably lie back down, but the terror of the shooting was still too fresh - she wasn't willing to let him go. Not yet. She needed the reassurance that he was here, warm and breathing next to her. "I know, but if it had passed through, it still might have hit you."

Mason let out a growling breath that sounded quite a lot like a murmured curse of some kind. "Let me get this straight. You're worried about me, because you think I might have been hit if the bullet passed completely through your chest?"

Well, it sounded ridiculous when he framed it that way. Eve tucked her head down against his shoulder, as if that might hide her blush - as if he wouldn't be able to feel the heat of it anyway. "...Yeah, that's... pretty much exactly it."

Mason groaned, pressing his lips to her temple before he said something stupid in his frustration. After several slow breaths, he finally ground out, "Could you please just be selfish for five fucking minutes?"

Guilt prodded at Evelynn, and she closed her eyes, unsure of how to explain. "I am being selfish." She didn't even have to look at him to sense his disbelief. She could feel it in the way his lips moved against her skin, and in the way his breath washed over her hair. Despite the situation, despite the pain, it tugged the corners of her lips into a sad little smile. "I could pretend it was heroism or self-sacrifice. But the truth is, I had to pick between potentially losing you, and getting shot." She picked awkwardly at a loose thread in the sheets. "Getting shot just seemed like it would hurt less."

A growl rolled out of him at that. Did she seriously expect him to believe this bullshit? "Oh, yeah." The sarcasm in his tone even more cutting than usual. "How selfish of you to be willing to die for every fucking person who ever ends up in danger in this town."

Some distant part of Eve's mind said that he wasn't being fair. She didn't exactly run around trying to die for people. She was willing to put herself in danger for others, sure, but that was hardly the same as taking a bullet for them. Did he really not understand? "It... wouldn't be selfish if I did it for someone else."

She felt it, the moment Mason understood just what she was trying to say. There was a beat or two of confusion, and then his spine went rigidly straight and he sucked a breath in through his teeth. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Evelynn squeezed her eyes shut, shuffling a little closer to him to tuck her head under his chin. "I told you." Her answer was so small that it was difficult even for him to hear - especially over the thundering of her heart. "I was being selfish. I picked the thing that would hurt me the least. Getting shot would hurt less than losing you. Just you." Her fingers crawled hesitantly over the sheets until she could hook one of her fingers over one of his; desperate for the affection, but afraid he was too angry or uncomfortable for the contact. "It... wouldn't be selfish if it was someone else."

The silence hung heavily over them as Mason as he tried to process what she was saying. Not the words themselves, but what she really meant - what she must feel, if this was true. It was so tempting to wrap his other arm around her and pull her closer against him. But he knew he couldn't, not without hurting her, so he caught her fidgeting hand in his instead, weaving their fingers together and holding tight.

They were avoiding the word for this feeling, both of them, as if it would make a difference. As if leaving it unsaid would protect them - would protect him, because he knew he was the coward who feared it, that she would have said it long ago if she thought he would have wanted to hear it. As if he wasn't living the very pain and fear right now that he was pretending he could avoid if he didn't give this feeling a name. As if voicing a single word would make any difference in how afraid he was to lose her.

When he finally responded, his voice was rasping and uncertain. "...Why?"

The question was so unexpected that Eve almost laughed. "You know why, Mason."

She was right. He did know. He thought it would scare him, but mostly he just felt stupid for thinking that denial would somehow protect him. The terror was still there, of course - it just was no longer the fear of giving into this feeling. It was too late for that.

Some small, puerile part of him wanted her to promise she'd never do anything like this again. But a larger, more solid part of him - a part coloured, perhaps, by that feeling he still lacked the courage to name - told him that he couldn't; if she asked the same of him, if she tried to make him promise not to sacrifice himself for her, he'd refuse. If he was the one choosing between his life and hers, he'd choose hers, every time.

And maybe... maybe there was something warm in the thought that it was unfair to ask that of her, because it meant that she felt this with the same terrifying depth that he did.

So instead, he heaved a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging. "Yeah, well... I guess I'm selfish that way, too."

Eve turned her head to press a kiss to his collar. He could feel the smile on her lips. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For... understanding, I suppose."

A low groan dragged its way out of Mason, and he gave in, just a little, to his desire to pull her closer. "I wish I didn't."

She answered with a quick, breathless chuckle, looking up at him half-closed eyes. "I know."

Mason huffed out sigh halfway between annoyed and affectionate. "Figures. You know everything else." Untangling their hands, he brushed his fingers gently across her cheekbone.

Eve seemed to relax into him at the gesture, her eyes fluttering closed. When she opened them again, she found Mason dipping down to press a quick, chaste kiss to her lips.

"You need to sleep, sweetheart."

She caught the hem of his shirt again, pulling gently. "Will you stay?"

He chuckled, low and indulgent, in a way that said he was surprised she felt the need to ask. Settling back against the pillows, he opened his arms for her to join him and she shuffled eagerly but gingerly into place, trying to find a balance between staying a close as possible without further aggravating her injuries.

As she settled, he answered in a mumble, so quiet that she wasn't sure if she was meant to hear at all. "Not even the end of the world could make me leave."

#twc #the wayhaven chronicles #wayhaven #wayhaven detective #wayhaven mason #mason #mason x detective #specialist agent m #twc detective #mason x evelynn #i guess this is after book 3 #not really spoilery though #i came up with the idea before book 3 came out anyway #but this fits kinda anywhere in the timeline #fluff #fluffy #super fluffy #angst #fanfic

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draguta · 2 years

Text

.the infinite thoughts of you | sneak peak.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: it's the summer of 1985. as an escape from your tiresome home life you join your friends for summer camp at the nearby camp fairwood. little do you know that what you thought would be just a four-week getaway would actually turn into a life-changing summer, all thanks to the dark-haired school 'freak'.

✨ out now | read here ✨

Hawkins, Indiana. Located 80 miles outside of Indianapolis, with a population of 13,000. A robust, small town filled with cardboard cut-out suburban homes and neighbourhood-watch alliances. A town that had survived so much without even knowing it. A town fueled on secrets. The secret affairs of bored housewives who sought the affection their husbands failed to give them on the stained mattresses of roadside motels. The secret swigs from silver flasks by balding middle-aged men attempting to mask the smell of liquor with spearmint gum. The secret bruises that the women of families from the East side of town concealed beneath the long sleeves of their sweaters.

Of course, the thing about these secrets is that they never stayed secret for long. Everyone knew about Mrs. Johnson’s younger boyfriend in the city, even if her husband was blissfully unaware. Everyone could smell the whiskey on Mr. Carper’s breath as he waddled into work, his wobbly and uncoordinated limbs giving away to everyone the fact that he was drunk. Everyone knew that Mr. Baxter on the corner beat his poor wife on an almost daily occurrence. It was these secrets that festered at the very heart of this town. They became whispers between soccer-mums in supermarket aisles, morning gossip outside church before Sunday service. Of course, they didn’t care if these rumours were true or not. Even if the evidence hadn’t been as clear as day, the stories would still spread, mixing in with talk of children’s football games and new patio builds over afternoon tea. They were simply a way for the tired townspeople of Hawkins to escape their own miserable, mundane lives, and shower everyone else with their holier-than-thou opinions.

Your family was no different. You offered to the world an immaculate image of the perfect family, so perfect in fact that it could be deemed unnerving. Every photograph captured the black and whites of plastered on smiles, masks worn by a family fighting trauma behind closed doors, never to be shown to the rest of Hawkins. No, your mother would never allow for everyone to know that your father spent ninety-percent of his nights with his secretary, a pretty blonde nearly twenty years his junior. Your father would never allow for anyone to know that he provided your mother with an allowance each month for your estranged uncle, a man whom you’d never met due to his ‘bad tendencies’ as your mother called it, but who you knew lived in the trailer park. Your parents would never allow for your peers to know that they had offered a hefty donation to your older brother’s college just so that they would let him attend. You would never make it known that you spent almost every night in a nightmare of your own making, replaying events from years gone by that you’d rather keep locked away. No one needed to know these things, but of course they did. That was just how it worked in Hawkins - everyone knew everything.

The thought had occurred to you numerous times, and came to you again as you sat in the passenger seat of your dad’s car, taking in the familiar faded signs on shop fronts and the silent figures milling along the sidewalks, if everything that had happened over the past few years could in any way change the town. If the mysterious deaths and missing children and suspicious fire had sparked in itself a revolt against the mundane, boring lives of these people. Because you knew that an even darker secret brewed under the perfect picture that was Hawkins; a secret that no one would believe even if they saw it with their own eyes. Of course, you should’ve known that it wouldn’t alter anything. Nothing here would ever change, not in the years since Will Byers first went missing, and not any time in the near future. Hawkins was a relative time-capsule in a world that was moving forward without it, filled with old-time ideals and cemented judgements.

✨ out now | read here ✨

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