#and trying to convince me he is kaden and he is going kill me

[gourmetrace]

had a dream this kid was real and chasing me down the street in middle of the night, no weapon except his nose

#it was actually terrifying #bc he had a partner in crime #macklemore #who kept was saying his name was kaden #who was a friend of my brothers #and trying to convince me he is kaden and he is going kill me #but i know it’s you macklemore #anyways yeah this snot nosed kid was after me too

[wickedsrest-rp-archive]

ZOOted | group chatzy

TIMING: Midday, August 29, 2021. LOCATION: The Main Street of Downtown. SUMMARY: What’s black and white and silent all over? The creatures at the zoo make their grand escape. TRIGGERS: Brief vomit (marked in chatzy), animal death.

Anara Kingston was just getting ready to open up her family bistro for the day, hands propped on her hips as she admired the storefront that multiple generations had made thrive on the corner of Main Street in Downtown White Crest. There was your usual display of signage, an eye-catching banner that advertised a meatball sandwich special, and a small paper in the lower left corner of the front window that proudly read ‘127 days since last accident’. The notice was actually one of the larger draws of the establishment in a town such as White Crest, where oddities and danger seemed to lurk around every dark corner. People wanted to feel safe while they ate, munching on overpriced meals while they tarried the day away. Anara leaned forward to polish the glass in front of the advertisement of their sanctity, only to stiffen when she heard a foreign braying of...was that a donkey? No. She’d been around enough of the farms that peppered White Crest to know it wasn’t the sound of such a creature. 

A clopping of hooves was quick to follow the strange barking, and to the shop owner’s amazement, none other than a genuine zebra had begun to parade down Main Street, children and adults laughing and pointing alike as the escaped creature began to graze on the flowerbeds of a plant shop. 

Nell stared for a solid minute at the zebra that had waltzed down Main Street as if he owned the place, already trying to figure out whether this was some bullshit she was willing to deal with today, or if she should simply call Kaden at Animal Control and make this his problem. Unfortunately her decision was made for her as a swarm of pixies, seemingly also escaped from the zoo, buzzed after the zebra to tug at anything they could get their grimy little hands around. With a deep sigh, Nell made her way over to the swarm that was doing their best to scalp a woman by yanking at her hair. This was now officially a problem she needed to solve.

Sai huffed as he ran down the sidewalk after a black horned Scapegoat that had gleefully decided to aid some oddly silent goats on their break towards glorious freedom. “No Ibulba! They live in the zoo!”

Keys rattled as Metzli strode towards their gallery, deciding to walk through Main Street. Yuca was leashed and in tow, picking up her pace in excitement. She always loved walking about the gallery. All the pets and enrichment she could ask for, making for a very happy cat. That was until, a swarm of sprites zoomed past the two and made the vampire stumble and trip, dropping their umbrella. Yuca mewled terribly, angry and shocked by the sudden interruption. 

Metzli barely had enough time to react as they saw the swarm circling back around. Eyes widened and they reached for a door, any door to  swiftly let Yuca inside, but it was no use. The sun made their skin sting and bones ache, but getting their cat to safety was the top priority. Leaping into an alleyway, only a few of the sprites managed to find them and picked and prodded at their skin. “What the fuck!” They yelled, hoping they could catch someone’s attention as they wrapped their arms around Yuca. 

It had been drizzling on and off all day, leaving the pavement tiles slightly slicker than Chloe liked as she navigated her trolley along the road. Her mind was fractured in several place - thinking about the strange flower order she’d processed for a funeral this morning that for some reason wanted tree roots in the bouquet as well as flowers, about the grocery shop she’d just finished, and the painting of Lydia’s face that stuck with her. She didn’t notice the rumbling of animals at first, until something pig-sized, black, and white cantered past her. Chloe screamed, jumping back as she waved her umbrella at the mime-like creature, her eyes wide. After a second, her hand clutching her chest, Chloe realised it wasn’t another evil type of mime, but just a… an anteater? No, what were they called… The ones with the longer noses that looked a little like pie-bald pigs…. The word would come to her in a moment, but it didn’t look too threatening. 

Unfortunately, most things in White Crest didn’t. 

Bly had spent the morning in a coffee shop with Nas and overall it had been a really freaking good time. Nas had to meet up with his girlfriend so he had left them alone in the shop until they had finished their coffee. Leaving with the shop, overpacked backpack slung over their shoulder, they stopped short. Was there like a fair and they had missed the advertisements? It didn’t really seem like a fair, but White Crest was weird like that. “So, uh, is this like an event? I didn’t buy a ticket so I’m not sure if I’m allowed to be here?” They looked over to a person nearby, hands splayed out in front of them. “I don’t have cash on me either, so I can’t even buy a ticket!”

White Crest’s one and only white Bengal tiger prowled around, looking at all of the strange and new sights that one never gets to see from behind a cage. However, she only had one thing on her mind. Where, oh where, was that zebra?

Alcher didn’t often go into town, but something had piqued her interest today. She could smell the animals crowding the streets, free from their cells at the local zoo. It was something she knew would be fun to watch, if not join in on. Unfortunately, being a wolf in this commotion might end up with her being chased by the humans who thought animals belonged in cages as well, so it was in her human guise that she showed up downtown, arms folded as she watched. Someone spoke up nearby, and Alcher shrugged. An event, not that would be funny. A smile curled her lips. “I can not say, but I can say I am enjoying this, are you?”

Nell didn’t necessarily want to kill the sprites. After all, as far as murderous pint-sized things went, they were decently harmless for the most part. And perhaps she could relate with being so angry at a world while being so little. Not that she’d ever admit that. So instead of burning them to bits with some form of iron, she looked around for any sort of box, container, something to hold the creature within. Seeing the person struggling with their umbrella nearby she yelled out to them. “You got a box or something? A bag? Anything?”

Morgan couldn’t remember how she’d convinced herself that taking Sundew along her usual weekend walk/leisurely shopping trip would be relaxing. On their way, the smug pixie delighted in reading every sign, front page, and logo they passed. When Morgan said Sundew didn’t have to, she knew how smart she was, she seriously didn’t have to, the pixie only cackled and circled higher to see more things, and then spoke of her ambition to market something to humans as ‘natural and organic’ and fill it with cat droppings. And this was before Morgan went from giving Bex a look of apology one next and starting a zebra eyeball-to-eyeball the next.

If Morgan had ever learned anything useful about zebras, it vanished in that moment. All she could process were its stripes, its beady, wicked little black eyes, and the tension freezing her cold muscles. 

“That's a dummy looking horsey,” Sundew giggled. “It’s hair is almost as funny looking as yours!”

Morgan ached to take the pixie and squeeze her quiet, but it dawned on her, just in time, that there were a lot of people she recognized just beyond her (at least one she never wanted to see) and stare-down with a zebra was going to be the least of her concerns. 

“Sai!” Morgan called. “You’re proficient in animal handling, right??”

Things in White Crest had been pretty mild, all things considered, which to experts like Leah meant that mischief was right around the corner.  She had been thinking it all morning, and the thoughts continued to plague her as she sat for a quick lunch in the park.  No sooner had the thought crossed her mind again than she heard a rumbling close by- literally around the corner.  She stood up suddenly, confusion lacing her features, and walked toward Main street where she saw the contents of the zoo quite literally spilling out into town.  A couple of lemurs hung from a tree nearby and suddenly, a dalmatian soared past her, running in the direction of a pet supply shop.  Did the zoo hold dalmations now, too?

“Uhhh, I mean, I am trying to enjoy it but, like, there’s a tiger here now.” Bly said etched the animal began to look around looking like it was trying to find prey. “I’m pretty sure it would probably try to eat me if it had a chance. I don’t want to be eaten today?” There was a lemur somewhere nearby, Bly could hear it and they were starting to think this wasn’t an event. “Do you think we should like call the government or something?”

Sai ran up to one of the zoo employees that’d been rather nonchalantly pursuing the escaping animals, recognizing their striped uniform and panda hat. “I’m sorry… sir did you ..” he panted hands on his knees. “See which …way…the …goats..went?” 

The Quiet Panda Fan regarded Sai expressionlessly for a time. Eyes with strange white pupils and black irises, contacts no doubt, seemed to bore into some deep place inside of the wizard. The Panda Fan turned and walked into an alley out of sight. 

“Oh thanks!” Sai followed after, thinking Ibulba and the goat exodus had run into a dead end. He walked into the alley only to watch the Panda fan be torn apart by some unseen force, sinews, sin, and fuzzy panda kitsch unraveling into a haze of hair-thin black and white strands. The pale and dark flesh-ribbons swirled around Sai like a school of curious Koi fish before slithering onto the walls of the alley. Black and white murals of zebras, penguins, pandas danced beneath a picture of a black sun with white rays all over the alley walls. Above it all were the words “BENEATH THE LOATHSOME NOISE OF LIFE, BLESSED SILENCE WAITS.”

Sai swallowed as he stared, but thankfully Morgan's voice called out from somewhere on the street. “Uh…uh, yes! Yes I can help,” the wizard shouted, running aware from the black and white murals now adorning the alley bricks.

Forming into a ball to protect Yuca and their face, Metzli heard Nell call out her question. They answered in a frustrated huff, “Does it look like a have a fucking box?!” Swatting away with an arm they growled and hit several of the few sprites picking at them, even managing to grab one and bite its head off without a second thought. 

Somewhere, in the distance, screaming could be heard. A waddle of penguins had just stolen a man’s coffee.

“I think it’s cute,” Bex had said when Morgan insisted Sundew didn’t need to read every sign possible as they strolled downtown. She was like a toddler, learning to read for the first time, and eager to show off and prove to people how smart they were. Bex gave Sundew a smile, and a quiet wink when Morgan stopped and Bex nearly ran into her. In the street, a zebra trotted by, and for a moment, Bex wasn’t sure she was seeing things right. She rubbed her eyes, looked between the animal and Morgan, snapping to and realizing it was, in fact, real, when she called out to Sai. What was he doing here? Why was there a zebra downtown? But as she looked around, she noticed more animals roaming the streets and took off in a trot after Morgan. “What’s going on-- what is that?” Wide curious eyes, not sure if she was supposed to panic or be of help somehow.

The anteater? Pig? shaped animal slowed to a trot in front of Chloe, then snuffled at a nearby plant pot full of purple gardenias, its long nose prodding and poking at the flowers. Skeptically, Chloe bristled the umbrella at it, not trusting that anything this innocuous looking could truly be innocuous. Someone yelled at her and she tore away her eyes from the creature for a second to look at the young woman. “Uh!” She yelled back, looking at her trolley full of groceries, before remembering that she’d packed some extra reusable cotton bags in case she bought more. Turning her gaze back to the animal that was now happily monching on the flowers, she pulled out the reusable bags. “Will these do? What is going on??”

Alcher regarded the tiger that was pointed out with a placid expression. “She is beautiful, isn’t she?” The child was complaining, and they smelled so human, it made Alcher’s nose crinkle through the scents of animals free from their prisons. “You do not know that. Not all animals are vicious and want to eat everything.” A shrug, and she was strolling away from them and into the street. “What good can men in suits do? I say enjoy the show, kinder, perhaps it is a free one.” 

Nell growled in frustration as the first person proved useless, though she supposed they were busy protecting their cat. Fine. As always, she’d have to do it herself. But then another woman procured a plastic bag, and there was hope for the people of the world and their abilities to respond to a crisis once again. “It’s gonna have to do!” Nell said while reaching out for the bags, already thinking of a spell she could use to make them stronger, harder to be torn apart by little sprite hands. “Looks like a jail break,” Nell replied dryly, recognizing some of the animals from the zoo.

The tiger could smell her prey in the distance. It was near a group of the two legged creatures, those humans who locked her in behind those bars and watched her. Now, she watched them. Now, they would not separate her from her meal. She moved forward with the confidence of a prisoner released from her cage after too long. Like a prisoner, she wanted a good meal, and she wanted it fresh. One of the humans, a strange smelling one, one that did not seem human at all, regarded her, and so the tiger returned the look only for a moment. She was so hungry. She would eat.

The sprites became preoccupied by Nell’s trapping attempt, giving Metzli enough time to get up and run off with Yuca in their arms. That’s when they saw the rest of the animals roaming about the street. Zebras, tigers, and several others. Supernatural others. “Whoa…” They said, amazed and confused. “What is happ—” They were interrupted by running into someone, and that someone was Morgan. 

“My familiar is criminal,” declared Sai mournfully as he reached Morgan, Bex, and another clumsy person,  face flushed from a long sprint down several streets.

“I guess?” Bly had to admit it did make sense that animals didn’t always want to eat people. Still… They didn’t want to test it. “They might get hurt if we don’t help them though! A tiger or a zebra isn’t going to do well in Maine. It’s cold here.” Then the tiger was looking at them and Bly was pretty thankful they didn’t pee themself. They slowly inched behind the intense lady, “I don’t like this. Making eye contact with a tiger is a bad idea!”

Sundew had never dreamed of a more perfect day. The humans looked so silly with their faces like that and one of them made the funniest sound when a fluffy cloud of sprites swarmed and picked at her nisty-nasty hair. 

Sundew flew out of her hiding spot on Morgan’s shoulder and conjured a mallet just her size between her fingers. She bonked the human running toward them to help, then she flew toward the sprites, cackling, “Yes! Yes! Cage-free chaos!” Then she flew to the nearest human and bit their hand and left the image of a lion paw on their wrist instead. “Woopsie! Better get that checked out! I hope your premiums are good!”

Morgan looked from Sundew, to Sai, to Bex, to the zebra, and back again. There were people losing their coffee, people losing their sanity, Nell and Chloe maybe doing something clever with a plastic bag, and it was all too much. 

“What do you mean criminal?” She cried. “Did Ibulba do this?” Normally this would’ve been outrageous but nothing was outrageous today. The zebra bared his teeth and Morgan jumped back and ran into someone else. 

“Oh, hi. Nice day for a walk, huh? You really might wanna consider going anywhere else right now.” Then she saw Sundew fluttering back their way with a familiar, dangerous look on her face. “Or better yet, get down! This really isn’t safe for anyone!”

Chloe eyed the animal chewing on the plants, itching around it carefully. When she looked up at Nell again, she frowned, finally realising that the ungulate creature wasn’t the only thing running around. All of the animals were black and white, and despite the havoc they were creating, they were much quieter than a normal stampede. “Are you going to use a bag to try and stop-” Chloe gestured at the skunks, snakes and single cow, as well as the terrifying creature beside them. Its nose was too long and flexible. She didn’t trust it.

Bex glanced between Sai and Morgan. Sai seemed breathless and Morgan seemed panicked and Sundew was off making trouble with some small, butterfly-looking creatures that seemed to like her. As far as animal handling went, Bex had rolled low, she’d never been around animals in her life, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know anything about them. The zebra brayed at them and she scooted behind Morgan as well, when someone bumped into them. A familiar someone. 

“Metzli??” she breathed, raising a brow. Why were they here? It was still daytime! “Oh, watchout!” She called, tugging on their arm as Sundew whizzed toward them, ready to spread more antics. “Sundew, no, please!” she tried. The pixie rarely listened to Bex, even though she often let them braid her hair in the garden and laugh about silly pixie things.

Nell shook her head while she mumbled a quick spell under her breath, and the cotton bag stiffened into something much harder. “What?” she asked with vague annoyance on her features while she tried to figure out how to herd the sprites into the bag. “You want me to use the bag on the tapir?” That was the long-nosed thing standing next to Chloe, right? She remembered seeing them in the jungles of South America. “If you wanna keep it as a pet you’re gonna have to use something else. Maybe think of a name for it first. But no- this is for them!” she replied, gesturing towards the swarm of pixies.

“Maybe? I don’t know? She is aiding and abetting it at least, and her unluck is very powerful ,” Sai confessed glumly, as if somehow convinced his magic goat would be put on trial for zoo escapes.

It was too late, Metzli was knocked to the ground and Yuca yelled out in terror. She almost ran off, but they managed to grab her leash and pull her back in as they got to their feet. They were too frantic between the chaos and trying to get into some shade. “Oh. Hi Bex!” They said in a daze and ran under a nearby canopy for protection with Yuca in their arms once again. Her hackles were raised and she was growling. 

Leah watched from across the street as a panda bear chewed on pages from a book, and that was the last straw.  Chaos and carnage she could let go, but book destruction?  Unacceptable.  She stomped across the street toward the bear, taking a deep breath to settle herself as she went.

The tiger and her gorgeous coat stopped to regard Alcher for a moment, and what a sight she was. Alcher simply stood and admired her back, giving a nod. She didn’t need help stalking her prey, but the proud zebra had strutted further down the street and seemed to be oblivious to the chaos it had caused, if maybe proud. Alcher could relate. She would want to kill it, too. Perhaps it would taste sweet, like the smell of fae hanging in the air. Fae blood was a treasure for someone like Alcher, though she did not indulge often-- fae held grudges, fae remembered, fae had magic she didn’t want to mess with. Alcher turned to beckon to the child, whose worry was palpable. “I think they’ll do just fine. Keep up, if you don’t want to be the next meal.”

The lemurs began jumping on people, using their little hands to flip people off. They’d learned things during school field trips.

Sundew would later tell her troop that she’d made fifty humans think they were turning into animals even if it was only more like ten. 

“Can’t catch me!” She giggled, whizzing by Bex. She pulled on the girl’s hair as hard as she could, humans were so silly when they weeble-wobbled, and did several circles in the air to show how much she was enjoying herself. She circled around to where the sprites were clustering and touched her toes to the tops of their heads as she crowed, “Fly my pretties, fly!” Just to get them good and riled up. 

The zebra in front of Morgan pulled its ears back and huffed silently, then, swift as chaos, it reared and lunged at Morgan, knocking her down as it pranced toward freedom. Morgan wheezed, wincing as her chest bent back into the right shape, and looked ahead into the thick cluster of goats and animals. “What I’m hearing, Sai, is that this is only gonna get worse until we find your goat. And so we gotta—“ she gestured vaguely at the mess brewing in front of them. “Find her?”

A tall jogger sighed and scooped up a grizzly bear cub that’d been making excited friendly noises at the bibio-voric panda bear and had begun to imitate to see if human literature was indeed delicious. “No Zeke,” Roy sighed, chiding his youngest sibling. “We can’t play with cousin right now.”

Bly’s mouth was dry, this lady just nodded at the tiger. The tiger who was hunting was nodded at by a Lady who didn’t seem to care. Their fingers drummed a rhythm against their sternum, drowning out the pounding underneath it. “You think it might be hungry after a different meal?” Their voice was reaching a scared squeaking pitch. “Should I call my mom?”

“No! I thought you wanted to use the bag on the tapir! It looks shifty!” Chloe yelled back, eyeing it suspiciously again. “I don’t want it as a pet!” All bickering about the tapir faded away as she saw the sprites twisting around in the air. Chloe froze, shrinking in on herself as she clutched her iron necklace her breath racing. “I- I can’t- I can’t I can’t-” She handed Nell an iron necklace with a long iron chain on it, fingers trembling as she pressed her back against the wall. Please don’t notice me, please don’t notice me, she thought as loud as she could.

Bex recoiled. “See if I ever share my gummies with you again!” she growled at the pixie as she incited a rebellion among the butterfly beings. Her eyes roamed again until she found Metzli under a canopy, cradling their cat. “Maybe you should get out of here? Your cat seems angry and scared and I think it’s just gonna get um--” she glanced back at Morgan, the zebra, wincing at the hit, refraining from calling out to her-- “worse.” She waved her hands a moment. “At least stay here! I’ll be back.” She backed away, then, and made her way over to Sai. “Which way did she go? Can you, like, track her?” She tried to think of a way for herself to be useful, but barring becoming a distraction, she couldn’t think of much. “Maybe we should split up?”

The tiger was close enough, now, her prey nearly in her mouth it was so close. She looked to the human that did not smell like a human, to the cub human next to her. They were not important. One did not smell like prey, and the other was too small to worry with. The tiger had her prey. She looked back at it and let out a silent snarl. Sound had not come out of her, not anymore. Not since she had been locked behind those bars, since the colors in her fur dripped from her like rain water. She lunged, teeth and claws sinking into the hind end of her prey. It, too, could not properly cry out. The tiger finally had her meal.

“She probably wants to take the petting zoo goats to the farm,” Sai said, watching with wide eyes as Morgan went from definitely dead to bodily wholeness in the span of seconds. “Which…would mean I’d be harboring stolen property aw shit noooooo!”

Bea heard the yells before she saw anything out of the ordinary. All she had wanted was to buy a bottle of wine and have a bubble bath tonight. Sighing, the witch cracked open a bottle, screw top, Thank God, and took a sip. She saw her sister doing something and determined it was likely best to go help her. “Hey, Nellie,” She said casually as she offered the bottle to her sister. “Who let the animals out of the zoo?”

The tiger took its prey and Alcher grinned. The young human was panicking and she rolled her eyes. “What good would that do? If you want to survive, you must think smarter.” She didn’t know why she was even bothering with this human child, but she didn’t know how to walk away anymore. She’d grown...soft. Shuddering, Alcher turned away. She could smell them on the air, her cousins. They were traveling together and were getting closer. She had been waiting for this. It was time to make a new home for them. “Come,” she ushered to the child, “I want to show you something.” 

Nell shot the other woman an incredulous look, sparing the black and white tapir once more glance before calling back to her in exasperation. “It’s a vegetarian!” The witch couldn’t remember the fancy name for ‘plant-eater’ right now. She wasn’t sure what to make of the blond’s alarm, but it only took Nell a moment to recognize the iron that had been deposited into her hand. She still didn’t want to kill the things...but maybe she could use this to herd them. It covered more ground than her knife, anyway. Swinging the chain above her head in a wide circle, Nell moved towards the sprites with her bag in the other hand. “Get!” she yelled out of instinct, as if she were wrangling some particularly rowdy cattle. “Into the bag and I won’t singe your wings off!” Bea? What the hell? Where had Bea come from? “I don’t know who let them out. Would you care to help get them back in?”

Miriam had decided to go for a walk, her skin mostly covered as she wore a large sun hat and glasses, looking for a meal before she headed back home. She was drawn to an intense amount of misery and pain, despair coming from a particular area of town. She was curious, this much concentrated agony unusual. “That little fucker waddled away with my cappuccino!” was all Miriam heard as she stumbled upon, well, a herd. All sorts of wildlife ran amok, and she blinked against the sight of it. She should turn around. She was going to turn around. This was just a little much for even her.

Mom always said not to lose your head. She also always said that letting strangers show you things would often end up poorly. Bly had already lost their head, might as well let a stranger show them something. Plus, she wasn’t scared and it was a good idea to be with someone who wasn’t losing their shit. “Uh, yeah sure? Is it another tiger cus I’m not sure if I can deal with that. Especially after witnessing that…” They trailed off looking at the tiger feasting, it made their stomach turn.

Of course Yuca was upset, her predators were roaming about and Metzli could do close to nothing to help as long as the sun was around. People were running and screaming as they glared quietly. They opted to simply threaten, baring their teeth in a predatory show of dominance under the safety of the shadows, petting Yuca and cooing at her every so often. They needed just a little more time before they were able to bolt back home. 

The wine was ignored and Bea let out a little huff through her nose. She wouldn’t offer next time then. Screwing the top back on, she placed the bottle back into her tote bag gingerly. It was a pretty nice wine. “Direct me, Nell. I don’t exactly have experience in this.” If Nell wasn’t here, deep in the fray like she always was, Bea might have considered leaving, but her sister was and so Bea couldn’t leave. “What are you going to do with the bag after you get them?”

The  sprites were only too happy to listen to Sundew. With a cascade of hissing and fluttering they rose, spread and circled the room. When the iron started flying into their cluster, their humming grew louder. Yes, it was going to be a cutting kind of day after all. 

Morgan nodded along to Sai’s words. “Mkay. No one is harboring stolen animals. Petting zoo. We got this. We totally got this.” She stood slowly and staggered forward. But maybe, uh—” Morgan didn’t want to broadcast that she couldn’t remember what Ibulba looked like under these circumstances, but just then, every fluffy goat in the distance looked the same. “A description so we can all be equally aware and prepared would help!” She nodded encouragingly, then stuck her hand into her bag and took out a snack to eat on her way to the goats. 

Alcher walked through the animals as they gave her a wide berth, especially those one might consider prey. Even in this form, they could sense what she was and she moved like a fish through water, smooth and gliding, the child in tow. Good, they’d decided to follow. She made her way down the alley and towards the edge of the streets, where it met fields of grass and eventually grew into trees. She looked back at the child. “Not a tiger, no,” she pointed at the pack of only black and white wolves, stalking the edge of the forest. They, too, had found prey, and Alcher was eager to watch. “Watch how nature truly works. This is what the world makes of those who are weak.” Of those who are prey, like little human children. 

“Everything here is weirdly quiet and mime shaped so the tapir probably eats hearts on the DL!” Chloe yelled back. When she noticed the sprites, her body trembled, remembering the time she’d seen them swarm and slaughter a nearby bird. The other thing she’d learned was that wherever there were sprites, there were pixies lording over them like a bite sized monarch. She shied further back into the street, terrified to get any closer, when suddenly the sprites grew more and more energetic, spreading out and urging into a frenzy. One zipped inches from Chloe’s face as she choked on the kind of scream banned by fae promise, unable to  do so much as swat them away. “Maybe- maybe- maybe something sweet!” Fae were renowned for their sweet tooths, she knew.

Sai shoved a hand in his pocket and grabbed a handful of Parmesan cheese from the baggie in there. He covertly held the Parmesan flat on his hand while moving closer to Morgan to screen the cheese from view. The Tyromancer murmured a few phrases under his breath and the cheese grains shaped themselves into a moving perfect replica of the black horned Scapegoat. “That's her”

Bro, Mom was one hundred percent right. This was a bad idea. A messed up teaching moment. The dizziness wasn’t fading as Bly looked over the scene that this woman had lead them too. “I really, really prefer when I see nature working through a documentary.” Why had they had coffee today? That always made their anxiety spike and their anxiety was already spoke. “I mean this is metal as fuck, like maybe you should write for horror movies, but I’m not a prey animal? I’m not going to be in situations like this very often and a pack of wolves isn’t going to eat me. I’m not weak. Or like I’m not usually weak?”

Bex watched in awe as Sai shaped the cheese, a bit gleeful at the creation of it. She wondered if one day she could do something like that. Maybe not with cheese. Definitely not with cheese. She glanced up and squinted down the street towards where Morgan was headed, the heard of goats far enough away to look like a stripe of cotton on the horizon. “Okay,” she nodded and started off across the street, looking both ways and letting a heard of quick moving raccoons scuttle down the road towards the alleys before turning to head up the sidewalk. She spotted Nell and Bea and another woman dealing with the sprites and decided it was probably better to not disturb them, pulling her own magic to the edge of her fingertips in case she’d need it. “Ibulba!” she called out as she got closer, “I’ve got um-- apples for you!” Goats liked apples, right?

Nell patience was worn thin. She already had so little of it to begin with, especially these days in the wake of everything that had happened over the past few months. Without warning she whipped the iron chain hard and fast enough to slice clean through a swath of the sprites, killing them instantly as their burned halves fell to the ground. “Get in the bag while you still can.” Again it had come to violence. Was this what she was supposed to be doing? Killing sprites and helping people? But the sprites weren’t being helped. The reason she couldn’t be worthy in the way Dave had said— was it because she’d never been able to solve things without adding more violence? Trying to shake her head of the thoughts she spoke again to Bea. “I’m gonna put them in the bag and glue them to the fucking ground. Then I’ll deal with them after.” Bea wanted direction. The biggest threat was the tiger, though she seemed happy now that she’d gotten her meal. “Just herd the animals back towards the zoo. Starting with this guy-” Nell nodded in the tapir’s direction. “A shadow leash or something.” The blond’s continued fear drew Nell’s attention, and she didn’t hesitate to dissect the sprite into two, the necklace swinging inches from the woman’s face. 

Alcher frowned and turned to look back at the child, golden eyes reflecting sunlight in a way human ones could not. “Oh, but you are, child,” was all she said, before she moved forward swiftly and finally ripped free of her human flesh. She wanted to join the pack, the ache of needing one too hard to resist. 

There was finally a chance, a chance to run in the midst of the chaos. Everyone was doing their best to do a multitude of things. Stop the chaos, run from the chaos, and even ensuing more chaos. Normally, Metzli would be excited by their own dangerous plans, but they would never dare risk Yuca’s life like that. And so they ran as fast as they could, inconspicuously. Running past Bex, they pulled her to the side as an ostrich that was running next to them nearly trampled her. “Watch your back!” They yelled as they continued to run, and get the fuck away from the fun. It was fun they were willing to miss out on. “This doesn’t mean I like you though!” Their voice trailed off into the distance as they finally escaped with Yuca. Passing by Bly and taking the chance for a little chaos. “Watch out. There’s a leopard behind you…!” Even yelling “Made you look!” As they continued. 

Ibulba was watching approvingly as the quiet petting zoo goats tore through an upscale clothing store. Stalls and hangers toppled inside the store, the destruction escalating in unlikely domino effects as some unseen force seemed to play havoc with probability. Ibulba and several other goats were munching on a delicious Marie-Chantal Miller wedding dress they’d pulled out from the shattered viewing window. But her ears perked up at her name. 

Ibulba turned to face the familiar she-human who was holding an apple to her. Ibubla turned back to look, and saw the sacking of the silky human-covering place was well in hand. She trotted over to Bex, seeming at home in the surrounding anarchy, and took a prospective bite of the apple.

Bex stumbled when Metzli whizzed by her, yanking her out of the path of a storming ostrich. Scrunching her nose, she shouted back, “Yes you do!” before she reached her destination and found the clothing store in utter disarray. Well...most of the dresses were tacky, anyway. She wondered if expensive clothing tasted better than bargain bin. But Ibulba was happily trotting over to her and she held out the apple she’d had in her bag and reached out to pat her head. “Hey there,” she said casually, smiling at her. “Sai’s kinda worried about you, ya know. Can you go back to him? I think he really needs your help.” From what Bex had seen of her, and knew of her, she was fiercely protective of her spellcaster. It was the bond between familiar and caster Nell had told Bex about, and she couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. “Besides, looks like your friends’ve got everything under control here.” 

Shadow leash. Bea could handle that, and she could start gathering a decent amount of animals with her as she went with them. “Alright. I’ll be back when I can okay.” It was good to see Nell take charge. There was energy in her voice, a commanding tone that had been missing. “You’re doing a good job,” She said offhandedly as she subtly made a shadow leash for the tapir. The animal moved uncomfortably as it realized what she had done but she was already walking along, forcing him to follow.

VOMIT TW BEGIN

This was it, this lady was a serial killer and Bly was about to be a victim. Then her skin… changed and there was a wolf in her place and finally that bile that had been working it’s way up erupted, Bly choking on it as they let out a surprised wail. As they spit it up into the grass, someone screamed about a leopard and it took all Bly’s strength to sprint away as fast as they could. They were pretty sure they had screamed, but they were running to fast to know what left them as they reentered the chaos. 

VOMIT TW END

Morgan had just enough calm to take note of the image without choking on her fried brains. “Beautiful,” she deadpanned, and shambled with Bex toward that goat.

Sundew flew somersaults into the air, faster and faster, speeding toward the ground. A big black and white furry creature sneezed and swatted at her and sent her veering off course, into Morgan’s head. 

Morgan caught the pixie in the palm of her hand. She had a few irritated words lined up and ready to go when a hundred little cuts pinged on her head and back. The sprites, scattering from the threat of iron, had landed on her, and had decided to take out their aggression on her body. Morgan lurched away from Bex and Ibulba and fell on her knees.

“What was that for?” Sundew asked. She had fully expected to meet the eternal pixie night after that swipe, but the dummy boob had caught her on purpose and for absolutely no trade at all. 

Morgan was a little occupied with being bitten by angry sprites. She gave Sundew a dirty glare, so clear even the pixie knew what had to be done. She gave a whistle and ordered the sprites to go home. “There, are you happy now, Dummy Boob?” She asked. 

Morgan looked around, dazed and bleary eyed. “You know…maybe yeah,” she said dryly. “Come on. I’ve got a real live bad luck goat for you to meet. And a big ol farm she needs to go home to.”

From an alley, a friend was watching. It was not seen. It was not heard. But it was watching. Perhaps it, too, would one day find a companion to romp through the streets and eat with.

While the sprites rammed into Morgan, Nell saw red. With another uttering of her magic, and a tug on the bond that linked her and the witch’s familiar, Taki was blipping into existence at her side, as easily summoned as breathing air after nearly a decade of doing it. “Roast them,” she told Taki, waiting for the fiery inferno of his breath to make barbecue out of the bothersome pint-sized fae. “Morgan, duck!” A swath of flames erupted from the Ovinikk’s mouth before Nell could realize the sprites were retreating on the orders of Sundew— and the stragglers of the pack screeched as they were set ablaze. 

Ibulba closed her amber eyes and concentrated for a moment. She could feel her partner’s mounting anxiety from here. When Ibubla was still a kid,  she’d been presented with a young he-human. He suffered from convulsions and visions, but Ibulba has souldbounded with him nevertheless, discerning that his gentleness and diligence would provide balance to her chaos. Ibulba reached through the bond and found her human partner. 

Ibulba opened her eyes, munching pensively on the apple while nodding for Bex to follow. Several petting zoo goats looked up questioningly, but Ibulba knew she’d done what she could. They must find their own freedom and delicious silky snacks now. She had a hyperventilating partner to attend to. 

Ibulba wove her way unerringly through the stampedes, seeming to navigate through some superior sense of probability. She occasionally checked to see if Bex was following. Eventually she sprinted straight into her caster’s embrace, allowing him to bury his face and mumble inane worried things into her wooly fur.

Relieved, Bex followed Ibulba back to Sai, who grabbed her and hugged her so gratefully, it was as if they’d been parted for years. Or, perhaps, that their distance had pained him. She heard Nell’s familiar voice, too, and looked up from Sai and Ibulba, watching as Taki opened his mouth and let out a roar of flames. Something heavy fell in Bex’s stomach as she heard the anguished cries of the small butterfly critters. Winced and looked away, deciding that keeping her focus on Sai and Ibulba was the best idea. “C’mon, we should maybe get her back to the farm,” she ushered, looking back over her shoulder at Nell and wondering if she noticed her, too. She looked angry. Bex wished she could reach out with her own magic and help calm her down, but that wasn’t within her grasp yet. She patted Ibulba’s head again and smiled at Sai as best she could. “Maybe invest in a leash, too,” she teased.

There was little left of the tiger’s prey as her stomach became overly full. Still, it was so good, so fresh. She would not waste it. And, as the humans’ sounds grew louder, she would not be caught again. No more cages. No more bars. Only fresh, warm prey. She grabbed what was left by its leg and began dragging it off, away from the noise. She would finish it later, after some peace and quiet and freedom.

“T-t-the tiger,” one of the zoo keepers, scrawny and trembling and a voice that was beginning to fail every few words, managed to say. They were a new hire. They’d find their words eventually. Or perhaps lose them. They pointed in the direction of where the tiger had gone, but it was too late to go after her with all the other chaos on the loose. They would have to follow the blood smears and hope it led them to her. After all, how hard would it be to locate a white tiger?

It was all gloved hands on deck as the rest of the zoo keepers, along with some of White Crest’s finest joined together with tranquilizers and began systematically and, for the most part, silently dispatching animals to get them sent back to the zoo. It would be hard work, but it would be done.

While the tiger wandered off, Anara Kingston took inventory of the wreckage that had been done to the front of her bistro, the lemurs that were still flipping the bird to anyone who so much as glanced in their direction, and the actual birds that were fluttering around with teeth that looked a little too human. Hold on. Birds didn’t have teeth, did they? It didn’t matter anymore. With a resigned sigh she turned back towards the sign she’d been so proud to display, sullenly erasing the number on it, changing it to read ‘0 days since last accident.’

#chatzy #wickedswriting #wcw

[deathduty]

Know Your Onions || Deirdre & Orion

PARTIES: @3starsquinn & @deathduty (and Nic’s ghost) TIMING: Current (?) LOCATION: Rio’s house CONTENT:  Deirdre calls Rio ugly a lot SUMMARY: Rio meets his landlord, Deirdre misses Nic’s muscles 

The house Deirdre had gotten for Nic sat deep in the back of her mind. She thought of it rarely, and only remembered when passing the neighborhood that it existed at all. With time to spare, and Nic and Skylar seemingly gone, it seemed right to ready the house for sale. Or, at least, to use as a second location to store her bones. She’d figure it out. Using her copy of the key, she entered slowly, eyeing a place she’d never really seen. She found it odd that the furniture hadn’t really been taken, or the bits and bobbles of decoration. For what it looked like, it was as if someone was still living here. Deirdre sighed, throwing herself on the couch and kicking her feet up. She could put a skull there, by the window, and a bigger skeleton could hang over there. But did she really need another house in the same town? It was so far out of her usual way that it hardly made sense. Then again, the windows were large, and she wondered what it might be like to push someone out of them. As Deirdre pondered these questions of great importance, a scrawny boy entered her vision. He appeared sad, and pathetic in that way young humans were. Most of all, though, she didn’t recognize him. Deirdre sat up. “If you’re here to rob the place, child. I’m the most valuable thing here and...if we’re being honest, I think a strong enough breeze would send you into the next city.” Deirdre eyed the boy, and then the window, and then the boy again. He would do nicely. 

Orion hadn’t been in the best state mentally since Skye had left. He had found himself alone in another house with too many memories and too much space for Rio alone. But still, it beat moving back into the empty shell of a home that his dead parents had left behind. Besides, how could he beat the opportunity to stay in a house that had apparently already been paid for in full? He didn’t understand much about adulthood, moving out of his parent’s house only to move in with a guy that wouldn’t even consider charging Rio rent. Here, things weren’t much different. There was no rent to pay, just utilities or whatever. He had been left with instructions on how to make the payments, and as far as he was aware he hadn’t been evicted yet. But he had been crying. A lot of crying. Enough crying that very morning even that his senses never picked up on the front door opening. He was lying on the floor next to his bed, slowly coming down from an episode when he finally heard the movement downstairs. He froze, focusing his senses out to try to confirm the source of the noise. But the more he listened, the more he was convinced that there was somebody downstairs right now. He rose slowly, his head peaking out from behind the bed as he glanced over at the open bedroom door. He half expected someone, or something to be standing there waiting for him. Luckily that hadn’t been the case. Rio rose slowly, taking light steps, just as his hunter mentor had been teaching him, out into the hallway and down the stairs. He slowly crept towards the source of the noise, finally turning a corner into the living room and taking in the view of a woman casually spread out across his couch. He wiped at his eyes quickly, trying uselessly to hide the evidence of red eyes and tear streaks. “What? No. I’m not here to rob the place. I’m here to live the place.” Rio paused, clearly flustered and trying to speak normally, “No. Wait. I mean I live the place. Er- I live here. This is my place!” Rio finally clarified a bit too passionately. He chose not to comment on her second statement. He knew exactly how he looked. “Uh… who are you?”

The more Deirdre looked at the boy, the more sad he seemed. He looked like he either had been crying, or had one of those faces that made him look like he was always one mean comment away from bursting into tears. As he spoke, her eyes narrowed. The only people who lived here were Skylar and Nic. The child clearly wasn’t Skylar and…. Deirdre rose from the couch with a gasp, hands clasped over her mouth. Poor Nic. Tears welled in her eyes. Somehow, he had been turned into a sad, pathetic, muscle-less little boy. Like someone had zapped all of his hotness away. If that had been her, well, she would’ve been crying too. And she was, now, for the loss of Nic’s muscles. Truthfully, she couldn’t remember what Nic looked like aside from his biceps, which were the only place she looked. He was barely recognizable now, in this cursed state. “I’m so sorry you’re so ugly,” she drew closer to him, clutching her chest. “It’s me, Deirdre. Your landlord. Oh, I know it must be hard to remember me, when we met you were much more….” She gestured in the air, miming his muscles. “I’m so sorry.” She drew the child-Nic into a hug. “I’m going to help you get through this, okay? No one should ever have to look like you do.” She drew back, “have you eaten anything today? You’re going to need lots of protein, okay? It’ll help.”

The woman was staring at Orion. An intense but vacant stare that made Rio convinced that she was clearly thinking through something in her head. Rio wasn’t sure what to expect from the woman. Was she there to kill him? Rio really wasn’t prepared to fight for his life. Or particularly motivated too either. But instead, the woman jumped from his couch and shot over to him with… were those tears in her eyes? Rio wasn’t just confused now, he was a bit worried. But any sense of sorrow he felt the woman quickly vanished when she spoke again. Suddenly, there was a lot less fear and most a healthy mix of confusion and confusion. His face dropped into a flatline, all emotion wiped from his face as he processed what the woman was saying to him. “I’m sorry I- don’t think we’ve ever met before.” Rio tried, trying to maintain pleasantries despite being absolutely sure that he had never met this woman before. “Get through what?” Rio questioned, his body immediately tensing at the hug that Deirdre had pulled him into. Who the heck was this woman? “I- uh. Of course I’ve eaten today. I’m really not as skinny as everyone says you know? Have you been talking to the Doctor? She always sends me protein shake recipes.”

“Oh you’re in denial…” Deirdre tutted, letting the child go. “You should listen to your doctor, she’s right about the protein shakes. But you need to lift weights too, or else there’s no real point to the protein.” Perhaps it was some solemn acceptance that Nic had been reduced to this form. He must have come to terms with the fact that he was more noodle than man--with a face like a distressed baby. Nic always was a man of inner strength, as she could tell, which she really couldn’t given how distracting his outer strength was. But to be turned into a child? The mere thought made her shiver. “It’s okay if you don’t remember me,” she smiled, “your brain must be blocking everything out. How long have you been living like this?” 

“I am not in denial.” Orion doubled down, crossing his arms like a pouting child and narrowing his eyes in her direction. “But the protein shakes were good. And I do lift weights sometimes!” Why was this woman so convinced that they knew each other? More importantly, why was she so obsessed with his accused frailness? He resisted the urge to try to point that he had gained a lot of muscle since training with Adam and Kaden. But that muscle went mostly unnoticed due to the baggy clothes he always wore. Besides, she didn’t seem entirely interested in his argument anyways. “Okay, that’s a lie. But I do exercise!” She wouldn’t stop looking at him with this face of mourning. As if Rio, or whoever she was convinced that Rio was, had died or something. He wasn’t a fan of the look at all. “It’s not that I don’t remember you. I’m pretty sure that we’ve never met! I didn’t know there was a landlord. I just paid Skye my cut of the utilities.” The last question baffled him a bit, and he paused and looked towards the ceiling as he considered his answer. “Uh- I’m 21. So 21 years?”

Deirdre’s frown grew deeper; how sad was it that Nic had to lie about lifting weights? He must’ve been demoralized after seeing the sorry state of his muscles. If he hadn’t blocked that from his memory at all. “You made Skylar handle your finances?” A look of disgust passed over her features--Skylar was also a child, and Nic was an adult. An adult of...21 years of age? Her face scrunched together in confusion. Nic was older, but even being transformed into a child would still mean he was just as old as he was before. Surely he was older than 21, wasn’t he? Deirdre crossed her arms over her chest, grumbling to herself as her mind tried to figure it out. It was true that she had a hard time telling the age of humans. This child here looked about 12, and Nic appeared adult-aged, whatever that meant. Maybe he truly was only 21? But she knew a handful of 21 year-olds and none looked like Nic. Was this Nic? No, of course it was. Who else would be living here? She’d only ever heard of Nic and Skylar. “You’ve been sad for 21 years?” She asked the boy, sighing, “you look like an abandoned puppy who was taken in and then abandoned again. And you’ve been that way for 21 years, child?” She paused, “are you sad because you have no muscles?” 

“What? No. That sounds mean.” Orion defended immediately, but started to wonder if he had been putting too much stress on Skye. He had never known much responsibility financially when he lived with his parents. And in Ricky’s house he was lucky to get the man to accept money for groceries. “I mean, Skylar had everything under control when I moved in. Probably after Nic left.” Rio spoke absentmindedly, now trying to convince himself more than this woman who claimed to be his landlord. Rio actually chuckled at Deirdre’s question. You’ve been sad for 21 years? Clearly they had never met before, despite her believing otherwise. “Um. Yeah, just about. Give or take a couple.” Maybe the first few before he had any memories. “Thanks?” Rio didn’t actually take her surprisingly relatable comparison as a compliment, but when faced by someone as blunt as this woman seemed to be Rio didn’t actually know how to respond to what she was saying. “I’ve been sad about a lot of things but muscles hasn’t really-” Rio began explaining before he realized that diving into his childhood trauma was not productive to this conversation at all. He shook his head and scratched at the back of his neck, “Actually I don’t know what this has to do with anything? I always assumed that Nic owned the house. So uh… who are you? Besides Deirdre the landlord. Like- how did they end up living in your house?”

“Nic….left…?” Deirdre eyed the boy, suspicious. If this was Nic, it seemed strange that he would have a recollection of Nic, yet no awareness that he was the very man he spoke of. “....what is your name, skinny child?” Possibly, though Deirdre would admit it was an honest mistake, this kid wasn’t Nic. But again, possibly he was. It was hard to tell with White Crest. Gone were the simple days of raining fish, now there were curses and ghosts and skinny boys. If Nic had been turned into a sad child, who else would notice it but her? At any rate, she wouldn’t be able to tell unless someone could verify that this child had truly lived for 21 years and wasn’t actually from the swamp, or wherever Nic said he was from. “Yes, well I bought him the house because he saved someone’s life, and I felt he deserved a reward, as humans often do. You give a dog a treat and a human a house. I didn’t think much of it, but it was nice being a landlord. For one thing, lord is in the title–as it ought. And for another, it’s nice to have a buff man give you money every month. Although we never saw each other, it was nice to know that behind the money drops was a buff man. You know…” Deirdre snapped, “maybe that’s the answer to your sadness. If we got a buff man in here to do all your chores, you’d feel much better. It works for me.” Or would his muscles remind the boy all of what he was missing out on?

“Uh yeah? Like, quite a while ago. Were you not aware that Nic left?” Orion was so confused. There was nothing about this woman or scenario that had not completely baffled him since the moment he heard her in his home. Or her home he supposed. “Orion. Well, most people call me Rio. Either one, really.” Rio answered on instinct, only later realizing what she had called him, “Hey! I’m… slightly less skinny than I used to be.” In his head, that had been a much better defense than it sounded out loud. So this woman was clearly incredibly wealthy, buying houses for men on a whim and- Did she just say humans? Rio’s face settled into a curious squint, studying the woman. Was she just completely lunatic or supernatural? Rio shrugged to himself as he considered the possibility that she might be both. “Right. Right. Well that was uh, super nice of you. To buy Nic a house and all.” Most importantly, he wondered how Nic had ended up in a situation where a supernatural woman bought a hunter a ginormous house for saving some random person’s life. It was altruistic sure, Rio felt bad admitting to himself that he didn’t think altruism seemed like this woman’s strongest attribute. She had barely known him for five minutes and had spent four and a half of them insulting him. “All great points that I never considered. Nic did have very buff arms. Not that I ever really noticed them. I mean I noticed them because like, they were right there and I have eyes. But I never like, noticed them noticed them, y’know? I mean he was basically my dad. He wasn’t my dad for record. I just kinda wished he had been my dad.” Oh god that was a train wreck. Rio needed to find a way to recover from that volcano of embarrassment, “My real dad’s dead.” He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and wishing he could disappear into a void. Nailed it. “I uh- you have buff men do all your chores? That’s kinda cool.” 

"No, I knew he left, I just didn't know he had...other children in his house." Maybe Deirdre didn't have any room to judge the man, she did have her own influx of young people at her house. Maybe this child really wasn't Nic then? She'd have to ask Morgan about it. "Sorry, you'll have to speak up--" Lost in her thoughts, she missed what he'd said and found herself leaning in to hear better. "Your name is Onion?" She leaned back, frowning. No wonder why he was said, his name was Onion. He was skinny and named after a vegetable. "No," she waved her hand in the air, "don't call me nice. I don't like that word being used for me." And then, as though the child wasn't sad enough, he continued to speak. So he was sad because he was skinny, named after a vegetable and had a dead father. Perhaps it was that last thing that was most important. Deirdre shifted her weight. "Onion child," she proclaimed, "you are sad because your father is dead and Nic, who was like your father, is now gone, yes? Would you be less sad if I was your father? I could wear a fake mustache. Just remember that tears stain the hardwood, and I'd like this house to maintain its value." And perhaps she ought to be kinder to him? Deirdre clapped her hand on his skinny, skinny, shoulder. "Buff men don't do my chores anymore--you could say I've become the buff man in my own life--but I do employ a few to make deliveries for me." Bind was the more accurate word, but she felt that employ would do. "I will get you a buff man to do some housework. You may call him 'daddy' like the youth seem so inclined to. And you can forward your payments through Venmo, if that's easier, Onion. How does that sound?" 

“I’m actually 21.” Orion mentioned in passing after Deirdre called him a child, but it seemed she mostly glossed over it as she continued talking. Rio just nodded to himself solemnly and continued listening. This experience was repeated when he tried to correct her when she called him onion. “Oh. Uh- sorry for calling you nice?” That was an odd thing to be dismissive about, but to each their own. This was probably the strangest he had ever had with another human being. Or, he supposed that based on what she had said earlier Dierdre may not be human at all. She called him onion and a child again and Rio only had the capacity to once again briefly chime in and correct, “Orion.” It was once again ignored. “Uh. Yeah, I mean I guess I’m pretty sad about Nic leaving” Rio had no interest in touching on the topic of his dead father. He wasn’t sure talking with a stranger about his lack of remorse over his dad dying would make her feel great about potentially letting him stay in this house she had not so nicely bought. “But it’s really okay and-” He cut himself off. Did she just offer to wear a fake mustache and be his new dad? The suggestion was so outrageously wild that Rio genuinely didn’t know whether to laugh or be very, very worried. He coughed slightly to avoid a nervous laugh and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Oh uh. That’s not necessary. But yeah. No damages, for sure.” Was she actually going to let him stay here? He winced at her hand on his shoulder but didn’t react any further, choosing instead to listen to her compare herself to her former buff men, “That’s uh… deep.” But as confused as he wanted to be, he was mostly surprised to hear that the woman actually planned on letting him stay. “Oh a buff man really isn’t necessary. Especially the daddy part. But seriously? You’re letting me stay? That’s amazing, oh my god. I’m really inclined to call you nice right now, but I’m going to resist.” Rio didn't, however, resist jumping up and down in excitement. He had his own qualms about staying along in this large house, but he definitely hated the idea of having to move his stuff again anymore. “Also uh- it’s Orion.”

There was something peculiar about Onion. Well, most things, it seemed, were peculiar about him. But he seemed, in addition to being scrawny, sad and pathetic, to also want to insist that his name was Orion instead. Deirdre refused. She had been wrong once (debatably; she still needed to ask Morgan about this) and that was already too many times for her to be wrong in a day. Whether the kid liked it or not, he was Onion. Deirdre shifted her weight and quirked a brow up at the boy, “why wouldn’t I let you stay? No, don’t answer that. You’re sure to have some sad response like…’everyone kicks me out because I weep uncontrollably in the night’.” Deirdre looked around. The house she purchased was never meant to be any one’s home. Strange as it was, Nic struck her as the type that couldn’t settle in one place. And Skylar…. Deirdre shook her head. It was this sad child’s home now, and Deirdre had no intentions of taking it away. “Onion,” she began, “I suspect I must’ve been a bad landlord to Nic and Skylar.” She has been a normal one, truly, having never attended to any of their housely needs. “But I want you to know that that changes now. If you need anything–a father, protein, more tissues for your tears–you may contact me. And my offer to be your father remains. No child should be sad or ugly, and least of all not both.” In her head, her words felt like a grand speech of emotional proportions. She was sure Onion would think of this later and cry. “And with that, I believe I should leave you alone to cry…?” 

It was quickly dawning on Orion that talking to his new landlord wasn’t so much possible as talking at her while she spoke over him. It wasn’t exactly a huge issue aside from her insistence that his name was onion and her repeated mentions of what a sad boy he was. Despite this, he figured he could look past all of that if it meant that he had a place to live. He almost chimed in with potential reasons why she wouldn’t let him stay at the house until she kept him off, filling in the gaps for him with mentions of stories and crying. “I wouldn’t call it uncontrollable…” Rio rattled off absentmindedly, more to convince himself than his landlord since clearly she wasn’t listening to much of what Rio was saying. “Right. Um well, I really appreciate this. I will be sure to reach out if I need anything, but really I think you’ll find me to be a very quiet tenant. Just paying what I owe and probably not any of those other mentioned things. Especially the dad thing.” Because the dad thing was definitely weird, even by Rio’s messed up standards. She managed to get one more double insult off and Rio just nodded his head solemnly, resigned to his own fate. Was this how every reaction with the woman going to go? “Won’t be crying, but will be enjoying having a house to live in!” Rio gave the girl a thumbs up and a smile, “It was… nice to meet you?” It came out as more of a question than anything else, mostly because he hadn’t convinced himself it was true before saying it.

“Yes it was nice to meet me…” Deirdre trailed off, nose high to the ceiling and, with what she imagined to be great humility, lowered her head slowly to meet the child’s gaze. “And, I suppose, not so terrible to meet you, sad child.” She had a feeling he wasn’t the sort to bother others with his problems, and she imagined she really wouldn’t be hearing much from him. At the idea, a peculiar stab of something (an emotion quite like that of dropping ice cream on the ground) struck her slow-beating heart. She shook her head, and moved to the door. Whatever the child would do, wherever he would go, he was nothing but a speck on the earth and a drop in time’s fast-flowing river. But to her, he was her tenant. And she, his landlord. And perhaps business bred fondness, or perhaps she truly was more sentimental than she imagined, but she considered for a moment that he ought to have his little water drop of a life feel special. And this house, a home. “Orion,” she corrected, her hand pressed to the door frame as she turned her head only half towards him, watching from the corner of her eye. “Don’t live a life you’ll regret.” She turned her head back. “And stop being so ugly.” And with that, she shut the door behind her. 

#wickedswriting #know your onions #c: orion #chatzy #// this was very fun all the shouts out to cody #cody is-as the kids say-the best #also i guess deirdre shames rio for being a twink ?

[letsbenditlikebennett]

Drawing Daisies, Pushing Daisies || Ariana & Luce

TIMING: January 8th PARTIES: @divineluce & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Luce gives Ariana yet another memorial tattoo and some secrets come to light.  CONTENT: Some mentions of grief and the situation with Lydia (domestic abuse/promise binds), use of needles in relation to tattoos. 

When she had first gotten the tattoo of wildflowers on her arm in honor of Celeste, Ariana hadn’t planned on her arm becoming a memorial. As it stood, she kept losing people she loved and wanted to carry them with her. Wanted to make sure she never forgot them and the lessons they taught her. One of these days, she was just going to get a completely silly tattoo. Today was not that day, but it was nice to dream. She walked into the familiar tattoo shop and waved as she spotted Luce at her station. It looked like she was mostly set up and ready to go even if Ari was running a few minutes early. She always enjoyed glancing at the art on the wall as she was in the shop. There was some new floral work up at Luce’s station that she looked at for a moment before taking her place by Luce. “Hey,” she said, “As always, thanks for drawing up something so great. I promise my next tattoo is going to be silly and not a memorial piece.” Her hand flew over her mouth as she realized her error, “I really need to not use that fucking word.” 

 Ariana wasn’t someone that Luce would claim to know well, but she knew that the girl had been through some shit. Fuck, the wildflowers on her arm were proof enough of that. So, when Luce had gotten the email about drawing up a new design, she’d been happy to do it. Art had the power to help people and so did tattoos, even if boomers liked bitching about how they were destroying common decency. If a back tattoo of Post Malone sparked joy, fuck, she’d do it. Which, thankfully, that wasn’t the case. No, she’d requested something with flowers and an old vinyl record, which had been a simple enough design that Luce could fit to match the girl’s pre-existing tattoos. “Yeah, for sure--” Luce started to say before her eyes widened. Glancing to the open door of her room, Luce walked over and shut the door, giving the two of them some privacy. “Memorial piece, huh?” She said cautiously as she went back to her desk, pulling the stencils she’d printed out for Ariana to look at. “I’m sorry to hear that… you lost someone.” Another someone. 

 With the door closed, it dawned on Ariana that she could talk more freely. Not that she really had any true scope of what human hearing could truly pick up over the music playing in the shop. It wasn’t like she had a point of reference. Maybe she’d ask Luis one of these days when he was a little more in tune with who and what he was now. For now, she focused on Luce and the stencils she was pulling out. “Yeah,” she said as nonchalantly as she could, “As the okay DJ Khalid would say, another one.” Nope, that felt wrong. Was she really getting to a point where she joked about the darker things in life? “That was a bad joke.” She shook her head and instead explained, “Remember the article about that one bitch in the paper? Whole horror house thing. Well, this one and the bat one are courtesy of that bitch.” She wasn’t even sure her name deserved to be spoken. That bitch seemed to sufficiently cover things anyway. She glanced over the stencils and pointed to the one she liked best. Though her sense of color was off, the yellow in the daisy seemed to be the brightest. Just like Todd had been. “Thanks,” she said softly, “It is what is. But I like that one.” She pointed to her favorite. 

 As the girl let out a wry, bitter joke, Luce did her best not to react. Everyone dealt with grief in their own ways. She knew that better than most. Her encounter with the tree dude in the forest was a reminder of that. He’d seen what she’d done in her rage and grief. Pulling out one of her trays, she busied herself pouring out some ink. At the mention of that bitch in the paper, with the horror house-- Luce’s hand slipped, black ink bottle spilling onto the silver tray. “Shit!” She swore, swiftly capping the bottle and grabbing some paper towels to wipe up the ink. Lydia. Lydia. She was talking about Lydia. “How do you know about Lydia?” Luce asked cautiously, still tentative about saying the woman’s name. She’d felt the Fae promise burn in the back of her throat before and, even though she knew it was long gone, there was still a part of her that shied away at the idea of saying the woman’s name aloud. “I, uh… Yeah. It’s a good one. I think it’s my favorite out of the bunch. They symbolize purity, innocence.” She said before biting her cheek. “Was your friend… were they in that house?”

 The sound of ink falling to the tray made Ariana flinch slightly. It only slightly startled her. More than anything, she was perplexed. Her head tilted and she looked at Luce curiously waiting for an explanation only to be met with a question. “Wait, how do you know about Lydia?” It was safe to say she was a pretty big part of Lydia’s crimes coming to light and ultimately Lydia’s death though she didn’t wield the knife herself. “Lydia and I… well, there’s a lot there. Mostly her murdering my friends and binding me into something that would have inevitably killed me and a bunch of other people had Kaden not saved my ass. Then I was the “unidentified teen” in that article.” Her fingers did air quotes as she said the unidentified teen. She was unsure if she should mention the whole getting Lydia killed thing. While she knew Nell would understand, but she had no idea where Luce stood on being a murder accomplice… even if said murdered person was actual trash. “My friend was definitely that.” Both Todd and Sammy had a very genuine way about them that made her wish she could have shielded them from Lydia. “Three of them were, yeah. Managed to save one of them… and another person, too.” 

 Luce didn’t want to say it. She should have kept her mouth shut, because of course this would be how the train of thought would go. How did she know Lydia? She couldn’t just tell Ariana that Lydia had… helped them sacrifice a man in the name of vengeance and retribution. Prepping her machine with steadied hands, Luce swallowed. “She had me locked in a promise too. I didn’t know about what she was doing at her house, but I knew that she was capable of some fucking awful things. So.” She paused, glancing down at the stencil as she pressed it against the girl’s skin, leaving an impression on Ariana’s arm. “When someone told me there was trouble, I went to help.” Help. That was a watered down version of the truth. She hadn’t helped anyone. Clearing her throat, Luce nodded, “Shit. I’m sorry… that you lost them.” She said, glancing back to the tattoos that decorated the girl’s arm. This poor fucking kid. Because that’s what she was, a kid. She didn’t deserve this. 

 Ariana hadn’t thought it was possible to hate Lydia more than she already did, but her having Luce locked into a promise as well seemed to do the trick. Somehow, even in death, she just kept getting worse. Her hands clenched into fists, but as it stood, Lydia couldn’t do this to anyone again. “Bitch,” she mumbled to herself before adding, “Her, not you obviously.” It was the next part that made her have to refrain from tilting her head as Luce placed the stencil on her arm. Help, what did she mean by that? Was she the person Athena had gone to for help while Ariana went with Kaden and Agatha to rescue Chloe, Todd, and Kelly? That had to be what she meant, right? She’d been so caught up in trying to deduce just what she meant by that she barely noticed the cool feel of the stencil on her arm. “Help,” she said slowly, “Did that help happen to be teaming up with a blonde warden?” She didn’t want to totally give Athena’s identity away if that wasn’t the case. She also didn’t want to just assume Luce had been down to help kill Lydia. Not that she judged it. Unless Lydia died, all she was ever going to bring to the world was pain. Then there was yet another apology for all she lost. “Thanks,” she responded instinctively at this point, “It is what it is, but I’m getting by.” And she was. Some days better than others, but it was getting by all the same. 

Ripping open a new pack of needles, Luce fitted them into her machine and pulled on a pair of gloves as she settled next to Ariana. The machine buzzed in her hand, the hum familiar and comfortable as she readied herself to begin the tattoo. But, before she pressed the needles to Ariana’s skin, she blinked in surprise at the girl’s words. If she wasn’t holding her machine, she might have flinched at the mention of a blonde warden. But she was a professional. And she wasn’t going to fuck up a tattoo, not even now. Swallowing, Luce glanced at Ariana. “She convinced me to go with her. Well,” She paused and pressed the tip of the machine to the girl’s skin, ink dancing at her fingertips, “I let her talk me into it.” Luce said, not wanting to say anymore. If Ariana knew who Athena was, then she probably knew what Luce’s brand of help had brought about. “Getting by,” Luce echoed with a small laugh. “As someone who’s been getting by for a while, I’m real fucking sorry that you’re in the same boat.”

 The buzz of the tattoo machine was slowly becoming familiar to Ariana. It was even becoming comforting in a way. It was gentle on her ears and she grew accustomed to the dull pain that came with it. She could tell her question through Luce for a loop though. Given, it meant she helped kill Lydia and Morgan had mentioned it wasn’t so kind, but she wouldn’t shed any tears over a murdered serial killer. One who’d hurt her and too many people she cared for. So kept her arm still and quietly said, “Thank you. I really didn’t want her going on her own and I had to get my friends out of her house.” Even if it wasn’t entirely successful. It didn’t make her feel any comfort to know Luce had been just getting by too. She knew about Bea and she knew how much losing a sister sucked. Even getting her back, she’d never be able to erase that experience. The feeling of the needle on her arm kept her steady and resolved, if only so she didn’t ruin her own tattoo. “I’m sorry, too. It’s a pretty shitty boat. I’d much prefer one of those all inclusive cruises if I have to be on any boat.” Focus still on keeping still, she softened her features, “I know I’m young, but if you wanted to talk about any of it, I’m a pretty good listener. If you’d rather not, that’s chill, too.” 

 Thank you. Those weren’t the words Luce wanted to hear, but how was Ariana to know that? She’d killed again and while Lydia was hardly an innocent… that didn’t change the fact that she was someone who posed no real threat to Luce or her family. She would have plagued some other town, some other people. Perhaps Luce had done the right thing getting rid of her. But even if it was, she hadn’t done it for the right reasons. “Are you and her friends? Athena?” Luce asked, the words careful as she focused on her work, making the lines nice and neat. “Yeah, I could do with a fucking cruise right about now.” She said with a nod. Pulling back, she dipped the tip of her machine in the ink and glanced at Ariana’s arm with a gentle but meaningful look. “You’ve got enough of your own stuff to deal with. I’m not going to add to that. But, thanks for the offer.” She said with a nod. “This town… demands a lot from the people who live here. I’m real fucking sorry that you moved here.”

 It dawned on Ariana that maybe thank you hadn’t been the right thing to say. Especially when she was able to piece together just what Luce had done to help. She wasn’t sure being thanked for murder was something most were comfortable with. She’d always been a bit impulsive with her words so she decided to gloss over it and acknowledge Luce’s question. “Oh, she’s my girlfriend actually,” Ariana answered, still not quite used to using the word. Talking with Luce and the dull pain that came with the tattoo made it easier for her to sit still, something she normally struggled to do. Even the daydream of a cruise would typically make her want to immediately jump into the ocean for a swim which was decidedly not so safe in White Crest. “I’d say I’d keep an eye out for raffles, but I’m pretty sure all the prizes in this town are also cursed. Fuck, it’d probably be a damn mime cruise.” Her face visibly cringed at the idea. It was okay that Luce didn’t want to talk and she would have shrugged if she hadn’t needed to sit still. “Everyone’s got shit to deal with. Offer still stands if you ever need it… or even just need someone to spar with. Not sure if you’re into that. I know Nell is. I think it helps.” While she knew Luce was right about this town being hard on people, she wasn’t sure she’d take back moving here. Even with all she’d lost, her and Celeste had both gained a lot, too. “I’m not,” she said surely. There wasn’t much she was sure of, but this she was. “As much as I miss Celeste, it was always just the two of us. She never had anyone to really talk to about things and she’d spent so much of her life trying to understand others. Make them feel seen and heard without ever really having that for herself and well, I think she may have found that in one of her friends here. I think maybe she finally got to be understood in ways I never really could.” She thought of Kaden fondly and knew he could relate to Celeste in ways she was never able to. In ways Celeste had deserved. She also knew Celeste wouldn’t want her to feel regretful. Though as much was easier said than done, she was trying. She added, “And I have so many people I love here, too. The loss, the pain-- it all sucks and some days it’s really  fucking hard, but there’s still so much good and so many people here I that I love.” 

 “Your girlfriend.” Luce echoed, doing her best to contain her shock. But it was impossible to keep the note of surprise from her voice. What the fuck was Ariana doing, dating someone like that? Not that… she could talk. Remmy had-- well. They’d never dated. Never really been anything. But, Remmy had been with her and they had been like Ariana. Someone good. Someone trying their best. So, what did that make her, then? “Sorry. I didn’t realize.” She said, hoping that the girl would leave it there. “I’m good.” She wasn’t, not by a long shot. But how could she explain to Ariana that she hated what she’d done? If Ariana was dating Athena, that meant something. And the fact she had wanted Lydia dead just as much as the Hunter meant more.”Thanks for the offer though.” She continued to run the machine along Ariana’s arm, the tip steady and constant as she made thin, precise lines. “It’s good. That you have people. It makes a difference in a place like White Crest.” Luce said because it felt like the right thing to say. She didn’t know. Not really. There were people here she loved, but at every turn, she’d run from them. “But yeah. It’s sure fucking hard here.”

 Ariana didn’t think too much of the surprise evident in Luce’s tone. After all, Athena was only just coming out to people and it probably came as a shock to most. She quickly added, “She’s only just starting to like really come out, but yeah, she’s my girlfriend.” Her voice was somewhat proud though the moment of pain that she had to force herself to sit still through got to her for a moment. Man, that soft side of the arm was not fun. Still, the buzzing of the tattoo machine was comforting in its own way. Then Luce said she was good and Ariana frowned slightly. Something in her doubted that, but she didn’t really know Luce well enough to push. “If you’re sure, the offer always stands. You and your sisters have always been good to me so you’re on the list of people I’d eat a mime for,” she cracked a small smile hoping to ease the mood a bit. It was clear Luce didn’t want to talk about things and she respected that, especially as the woman was currently drawing on her with a needle and all. She nodded in agreement, “It does. Makes all the other shit worth it. Not even sure where else I’d go, honestly. Plus, someone has to make sure Blanche eats food that’s not cheese balls.” Luce was right though. It was fucking hard. The last couple of months had given her some room to breathe and process all the grief, but there was still always that underlying fear when someone didn’t text her back right away that they were dead somewhere. “You got that part fucking right. But we’re tough, that’s why we make it here, right?” 

 Well. If they were dating, that had to mean that Ariana knew what Athena was, right? But, Luce swallowed as she wiped the excess ink away, Remmy had never known all of what Luce had done until it was too late. “I see. Well. Good for her.” Luce said, not really knowing how to reconcile this information. Ariana was a good kid, but Athena? Luce had been there, she’d seen how the girl had acted when they’d… taken care of Lydia. No, not taken care of. Who was she killed? Athena had killed Lydia and had convinced her to take part in it too. That unquestionable fact weighted heavily down upon her-- she’d helped get rid of Lydia. She’d burned her body from the face of the earth, wiped her existence clean. And she hadn’t had the right to do that. She could have lived with the promise she’d made to the Fae woman. But another town, other people, they would have been subjugated to the same horrors Lydia had brought here… 

 Clearing her throat, Luce focused back in on the conversation. “Trust me, you don’t need to go eating any mimes for me. Wouldn’t want you to go all stripey on me.” She said with an attempt at a grin. “It’s good to hear that Blanche’s got someone like you in her corner. That girl,” Luce said as she began to add in shading, running the machine over Ariana’s skin with a firm hand. “Gets into more than her fair share of trouble. But, I guess the same could be said for all of us.” Mulling over Ariana’s words, Luce shrugged. Months ago, she might have agreed. Being tough was all you needed, putting up a wall, handling things on your own was how you lived in this town. But now? “Sure is.” She said noncommittally. Changing the topic, Luce looked down at the tattoo. “I think we’re just about done with this. Just a bit more shading and we’ll be wrapped up.”

Ariana laughed a bit and refrained from shrugging, “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gone all stripey. I know how to fix it now at least.” Humor was one way to look past the alarming parts of turning silent and stripey like a freaking mime. How they managed to do that was beyond Ariana, but she sure as fuck didn’t like it. There was another small laugh in regards to Blanche. Her knack for trouble could be amusing, but more than anything she was worried for her friend as of late. Even when she was striped, she barely even got a laugh out of Blanche. “Oh yeah, she’s a trouble magnet for sure, but like, same here. Maybe the town is just a trouble magnet.” She watched as Luce continued shading in and said they were just about done. A few more jokes were exchanged before Luce did the finishing touches. She looked down at it for a moment. The yellow almost as lively as Todd had once been, the perfect little tribute to the friend she should have been able to save. Something to carry with her every day to remind her to be better for all the Todds of the world. “It’s perfect,” she said softly before following her up to the counter to finalize payment. And it was, even if it left her with a sort of bittersweet feeling.

#wickedswriting #drawing daisies pushing daisies #luce #grief mentions #needles tw #domestic abuse mentions

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

Brittle Blazes || Nicole and Kaden

TIMING: Current LOCATION: White Crest National Park PARTIES: @nicsalazar and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Nicole calls in Animal Control to help with a totally normal not at all supernatural bug infestation. Nothing goes wrong what so ever.

A new day at work often meant a new set of problems to deal with. For the most part Nicole didn’t mind, it kept the job interesting. No day was the same. That particular day wasn’t expected to be the most exciting, though. Beetle infestation near one camping ground, they had said in the morning briefing. Animal control would be present later that day and assess the situation. Boring and annoying. Why people bothered to visit the woods if they hated the bugs was something Nicole still struggled to understand. How hard was it to bring spray with you? Perhaps they should’ve tried the beach instead, she mused as she made her way to the ground hours later. Part of her, however, wasn’t convinced the issues were caused by ordinary beetles. It didn’t explain the few trees that straight up collapsed near the grounds in the previous days, or the crying fits a few campers had experienced. Maybe it was all unrelated, though  if she had learned anything in the years at the park, very rarely that was the case. She stood outside the guardhouse, where she expected to meet with animal control, entertaining herself by keeping an eye on the campsite for any signs of strange activity. Everything appeared frustratingly normal, until she heard steps approaching. Hopefully they’d be done with the beetles soon.

There was a lot in Kaden’s life that didn’t make sense right now. Entirely too much, if he was being honest. Work wasn’t one of them. Work hadn’t abandoned him. It didn’t add to any gnawing ache of emptiness or questions. It sure hadn’t slowed down either. He pull his truck up to the guardhouse. He’d made sure all his equipment was in tow considering he had no clue what he was dealing with. Not yet. “Hey,” he called out to the ranger as he got out of the car. “Officer Langley, animal control,” he said, offering her a hand. “So what is it we’re looking at? Dog? Cat?” Monster? The call mentioned something about beetles and he hoped like hell that was a lie. He trusted the park ranger knew better than to call on animal control for that. “Or something else?” He didn’t know where she stood on the whole supernatural thing and he wasn’t going to be the first to let the cat out of the bag on that one. “Call mentioned something about downed trees, right? We looking at something large?” He’d take stock, figure out what he wanted to bring from his truck based on what she said. Either way, he was pretty sure his shotgun was coming with him. Call it intuition. Or just Wicked’s Rest.

“Right” nodding in acknowledgement, Nicole circled around the truck to meet with him. She went for a quick handshake, eyes only meeting his gaze briefly. “Nicole” with a mumble, she motioned behind them,“this way...I’ll show you”. Eyebrows furrowing at the question, Nicole paused before continuing. She had expected him to know something beforehand, the idea of explaining the ridiculous reason for the call making her dread what was coming. “Uh, not even close— really, shouldn’t have bothered you guys, but—” she began, her tone apologetic. An arborist would have dealt with the trees easily. “The trees— it’s just a few odd things piling up” trying to gauge his reaction, she shot a quick look at him. “We got beetles everywhere...people complained, then trees dropping out of nowhere” she had to mention it, despite no obvious correlation. It wasn’t even the weirdest part. “Then...then—” she played with her belt, bracing herself for the strange looks. Luckily, they were reaching their location, away from the campsite and past the bonfires. They would be near the pond in no time, and she wouldn’t have to explain anything else. “Then, two families...crying for no fu—for no reason. Bawling, couldn’t stop them. Thought some sort of gas leak could’ve been the issue but…” she clicked her tongue, shaking her head as they came to a stop. The beetles were crawling everywhere, that much was evident even if she tried to keep some distance. “If I can help with something, let me know”.

“Nice to meet you Nicole,” he said after shaking her hand. Oh, so she was using her first name. Was Kaden dumb for going all “Officer Langley” on her? Putain. He still barely felt like he knew what the hell he was doing sometimes with the official type stuff. The animals and monsters, however, that he could handle. Only he was starting to wonder what it was he was really going up against. “Yeah I heard something about fallen trees. So I assumed…” Well, it was his fault for assuming, wasn’t it? Shit. He rubbed the back of his neck a moment before pulling out some gear from his truck and following along. He hoped like hell it was enough, or appropriate. Guess he’d find out. “Beetles?” His mind started to narrow down the possibilities. Bug looking monster, alright. That, uh, well it left a lot of options for sure. “Alright. Beetles. Trees dropping. How big were they? And, uh, what do you mean by dropping?” She carried on about the families crying and what not. His brow furrowed, trying to piece it together before they reached the site. He was struggling to find the threads. Until he saw them. “Oh shit,” he said as he watched the maroborers crawl along the forest floor and trees. There were so many. “Putain de merde,” he muttered to himself. “We need to get out of here right n--” He turned and saw that they were surrounded. Small beetle sized monsters surrounded them. Monsters that made things brittle. Brittle enough to crumble to pieces at a single touch if they hung out with them too long. “You really should have called pest control, you know. And not-- putain.” He rubbed his temple a moment to think. He didn’t have fucking bug spray on him. “Fire will work. So will crushing them. But it’s a risk. Both of them. Fuck.”

Nicole pressed her lips into a thin smile at the pleasantry. One look at his equipment calmed some of her nerves. It seemed he had brought something for every possibility. “The size of—the beetles...or, the trees?” she took a moment to glance at him, brow furrowed in confusion. She cleared her throat, rubbing her jaw before continuing “Just that. They collapsed. Healthy trees—weren’t due for any kind of maintenance. No one got hurt, luckily”.  It seemed Officer Langley had managed to figure out the root of the problem the second he laid eyes on the scene. Her eyebrows shot up impressed, thinking of commenting on his knowledge, until he said they had to leave. Taking a step back out of instinct, her eyes widened at his reaction. What was so bad about some beetles? She did agree with him however, that Animal Control shouldn’t have been called in the first place. “Fi—fire. You want to...” she lifted her hand, pointing at the trees surrounding them, “you wanna to burn things...” in a National Park was left unsaid. Judging by the tone of his words she suspected he understood how absurd the suggestion was, or she hoped so. But, if he had been quick enough to assess the problem, she had to trust he knew the right solution. Even if that meant starting a fire in an area it was very much forbidden to do so. Still, she preferred to leave that as a last resort. “Got—I’ve a can of bug spray you can use?” she helplessly offered, hand ghosting over her pocket. No, that was stupid. Why did she say that? One spray wouldn’t do shit against all those bastards. She had underestimated how bad the issue was and the reports hadn’t been too informative either. “W--Why’s crushing them a risk?” she glanced down, finding a few of them crawling under her boot. It could be so easy to do.

“The beetles but I’m not sure I need an answer anymore,” he said, looking around them at the scope of the issue. Kaden really wished they had been facing a big monster knocking down the trees. Like a bies or even a werewolf or literally anything else other than what they were up against. He rubbed his brow, trying to plan the best way to handle this. Safely. “I’m really fucking aware a fire in a forest is a bad idea, alright. I’m just saying it would work.” And possibly destroy half of White Crest’s woods. Which might not be a bad thing considering how many monsters loved there. Putain de merde, no he couldn’t think like that. Probably didn’t work that way in this cursed fucking town anyway. The fire would cause something bigger, badder, far worse. “These bugs. They have pheromones or some shit that make things brittle. Very. They could drill a hole in your skin. Or worse.” As if on cue, Kaden looked over to see a tree covered in the marob just crumble right in front of them. Shit. Fucking shit they were getting closer. Instinctively he stepped on the few threatening to climb up his shoes, slamming his heel down as he killed what he could. He could already feel the rubber sole of his boot getting stiffer, his steps having less give. Fuck. “Spray a path!” he shouted at her. “And cover your face as best you--” A few of the bugs started flying, buzzing near them. He held his jacket up in front of his face, trying to shield it as best he could. “Faster, any fucking faster!” he snapped.

Nicole stared dumbly at Langley as he explained, processing all the information he was throwing at her. Pheromones. Making trees collapse. Drilling holes in your skin. Normal stuff. She swat away a few coming at her face, wincing as she another tree crumbled, this time in front of them. Her mind began to race. Tentative fingers brushed against her radio, debating whether to call for back-up. Did they have resources and equipment for skin drilling bugs? No, they most definitely didn’t. She lowered her hand, deciding against her initial idea. It would only expose more people to it. She could run back, it wouldn’t take her more than a couple  minutes. And then what? Bring the whole stock of bug spray? No, they needed to act fast. She was already failing by going over possibilities while the officer was already taking action. It was just them against the bugs, then. His shout seemed to snap her out of her thoughts, and with a swift move she seized the bottle and sprayed as told. It felt like an uphill battle. As much as she sprayed, the bugs kept finding different paths to get to them. She raised the collar of her shirt to her nose, shaking her spray until it was empty. She coughed, paranoia setting in. It was too late for her. She could feel it. Particles, pheromones, whatever the fuck, in her throat, in her lungs. She remained stoic, a slight frown the only tell sign that something was happening inside her. The bugs flew closer now, from every direction. “Look just— just burn it all down” she let out, breathless. No. No that wasn’t a good idea, it was a terrible, dangerous, very illegal idea. But she couldn’t think straight knowing she might turn into dust any second now. She stumbled backward, “I’ll—I’ll get some extinguishers. The—the bonfires are close...we have them there” and buckets, she remembered. They could use the pond's water too. For once she didn’t wait for the okay, she couldn’t waste another second. She shot one last distraught look at the officer before she took off as fast as her legs allowed her, no time for pretending to be human.

Kaden pulled his collar up to try and cover his face, but it didn’t do much. Putain, putain, putain. They were definitely going to ingest some of the pheromones, no doubt about it. He just hoped it wasn’t too much. At least she acted fast enough, spraying the bugs away and he followed her as they picked a path away from them. Or tried to, at least. He ran after her, trying to breathe as little as possible. Which wasn’t exactly possible while running. “Burn it down?” It sure sounded like a terrible plan but he wasn’t going to argue with her when he didn’t have a better one. “Okay.” His words were muffled by the fabric attempting to cover his face. She ran off to what he assumed was the bonfires. Really fast, too. Huh. She must have been a runner. Right. Okay. Focus. Burning down. Burn it down. He was going to burn down the forest to kill the maroberers. With what? That’s right. He rummaged one handed for his lighter. Shit, shit, shit, this was an awful idea. He looked down and he saw flakes coming off of his jacket. Putain. He liked this jacket, too. “Fucking hell,” he grumbled to himself, wasting breath he shouldn’t and breathing in more pheromones with every word. Great. He had a lighter. Now the fuck what? He stomped his feet around him, doing everything he could to squash the bugs nearby, frantically looking for something, anything, that would catch. Leaves. Pile of leaves. That was about to be overtaken by bugs. Putain. Kaden ran over, desperately holding his jacket in front of his face as he did, his lungs begging for deeper breaths, more air than he was allowing. He flipped open the lighter and did his best to coax it alive. It caught and started to burn, blazing brighter with every second. He scrambled for more leaves, branches, to build it, help it move along the woods. Hopefully she got back with that extinguisher soon. And shit, how to get the bugs in the flames. He exhaled a small sigh. Was he really going to sacrifice the jacket? At least it wasn’t his favorite. Putain. He shrugged it off him and started using it to scoop up bugs and throw them on the flames. The fire was growing as he did, but the bugs kept coming. Shit.

Nicole couldn’t remember the last time she had run at full speed. Years and years ago, no doubt. She had been too concerned with appearing human to ever attempt it. It was entirely too freeing, but she had no time to process the conflicting feelings. She powered through, despite the dryness in her throat and her lungs threatening to collapse. Long strides and fast cadence, she made it to the campfires site in a matter of minutes. Her legs weren’t the only thing running, though. She couldn’t stop her panicky mind. She was going to be in so much trouble. Probation time at least, if she was extremely lucky. What was she thinking? She wasn’t, clearly. If those things could get in her brain too, they definitely were. She didn’t want to think about the problems she could get officer Langley into. She had trusted him blindly. Stupidly, almost. He seemed knowledgeable and prepared. But what if he got it wrong? What if arson wasn’t needed and she had gone and supported him on that insane idea for nothing? She burst into the empty station and barged straight into the storage to gather what she needed. One, two fire extinguishers. The biggest they had. Her chest heaved painfully, eyes darting across the poorly illuminated room. Her stomach sank. She didn’t have enough hands for every item. Tears began to sting in the corners of her eyes. Was it frustration at her incompetence to blame, or the bug’s pheromones doing its work? She couldn’t tell. Both were equally likely. Judging by the smell, Langley had succeeded at starting the fire. He needed her now. Fuck, it was such a bad idea. She blinked tears away furiously, stacking a couple of buckets and slid her hand under the handles, holding them with her wrist. Two extinguishers in her hands, she took off. She clenched her jaw, breathing sharply through her nose. The knot in her throat was messing with her. The smoke column was easy to spot, and within minutes, she made it back to the officer. To say he was struggling was an understatement. “Fuck” fuck, fuck, fuck. He didn’t look close to done. They couldn’t put out  the fire yet. She dropped everything and took off her own jacket, imitating the man’s motion to lure the bugs into the fire. People would start to notice if they hadn’t already. The smell, the smoke. “Now what?!”, her shout was muffled by the elbow covering her nose.

“That was fast,” Kaden said as she came sprinting back with the extinguishers. He’d hardly noticed she had left. Might not have even believed she had made it all the way there and back  had it not been for the extinguishers in her hand. Little by little, the fire was growing, but it was slow. “Come on, come on,” Kaden said to it, as if it could respond to him. Shit, that was stupid. Speaking meant he was breathing more. And that meant… Fuck. He kept shoveling bugs into the flames alongside her. It was doing something, but not enough. He had to figure something out. He had to. He turned around, spinning, looking for anything when he crashed right into her as she was continuing funnel bugs to the flames. “Watch it!” he snapped. It was harsher than he’d expected it to be, angry and sharp. Huh. Oh well. Even so, something clicked. “Bug spray! Now!” he said as he reached out to yank the can from her. He turned and started spraying a line on the ground, back and forth, as much as he could. Then he pulled out his lighter again. “Back up!” It was the only warning he gave before he set the area on fire. The flames roared to life, brighter and faster than the other. He threw more leaves and under brush towards it along with whatever insects he could manage. “Get off me you fucking assholes!” he yelled at them as he flung them away from him. The bugs were dwindling. The just might have dealt with them. The problem was the fire was catching. Rapidly. “Shit. Shit! We have to run! Or something!” he said, backing up towards her. He wasn’t sure a fire extinguisher or two was going to cut it. Putain.

Focused on the task at hand, Nicole could barely hear what the officer was saying, choosing to remain quiet instead. Her brain registered his words a moment later. She had been so concerned about the urgency of the situation that she hadn’t stopped to consider how fast she had been. She hoped, with the adrenaline of the moment he wouldn’t pick up on certain things. After all, who would think about sprint times when the threat of turning into dust loomed over them. Priorities, right? It was becoming difficult to breathe properly while covering her face from the beetles and the tears filling her eyes didn’t help to guide the bugs the right way. She huffed when he crashed into her, but stood her ground. Through glossy eyes she shot him an angry look. Did he have to be so clumsy? She shook her head, that was hardly something to get mad about, the fuck? She let him take the spray, surprised there was any left, but it seemed to do the trick. The fire grew faster than before. Perhaps a little too fast— in the blink of an eye it seemed to get out of hand. Not that she ever fully believed starting a fire was a good idea to begin with, but seeing the rapid destruction in front of her brought more tears to her eyes. She couldn’t blame it on bugs’ pheromones. Though maybe it was increasing her own proclivity to cry about many things. She had to call the fire management unit. If people saw she stood there and did nothing to stop the flames she’d be fired. She reached for her radio, but a wild flame jumped toward them. She stumbled backward, as Langley shouted for them to run. That was smart yes, but she couldn’t do that. She didn’t do smart. ‘Or something’ sounded better. Her hand closed on his forearm and she forcefully tugged him backward, to where she had dropped the extinguishers. Taking one, she pulled the pin to unlock it, wasting no time to squeeze the levers. “Get the other one!” the knot in her throat made her voice shaky, her order sounding more like a plea. They had to control it somehow.

Kaden was prepared to take off running. He wasn’t a fucking fire fighter. He threw himself into a lot of danger, sure, but standing around while there was a fucking forest fire? Not one of them. But she grabbed his wrist and kept him there. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he shot her. “Just us and two fucking fire ex--” He started coughing before he could get all the words out. But honestly, they were going to be the force to stop this shit? Fucking hell. He still thought they should run. It was clear she wasn’t leaving, though. He could pick her up and carry her. Fuck, that’d slow him down way too much it wouldn’t be worth it. “Bordel de merde, “ he grumbled to himself, picking up the stupid fucking extinguisher. This was moronic. He tried to cover his face with his collar again before pulling the pin for the extinguisher. The heat from the flames stung his eyes and breathing was getting harder and harder. But he didn’t have much of a choice, did he? He stood there and doused the flames as best he could with the extinguisher. At first, he wasn’t sure if it was working, the flames seemed like they were fighting back with everything they had. But there was no other option but to stand there and keep trying. At least for now. “Is this,” he coughed some more, “is this working?”

“Just— shut...shut the fuck up and help, jesus!” despite hearing her own voice, the words still felt foreign. Nicole couldn’t remember the last time she had been so frustrated. She didn’t have time to question her sanity. Not when all she could focus on was putting out the fire. Between the smoke and the pheromones, she wasn’t sure her lungs were having the best of times. Thankfully, their combined efforts seemed to appease the flames, if only for a brief moment of hope. It was easy to ignore the stabbing pain under her ribs, or the way her legs felt like giving up when it appeared they would get things under control. At least, she couldn’t see any more beetles flying. Small victories. The fire fought back, however, extending despite the initial decline. It caught nearby trees, violently consuming one. It crumbled in front of them, causing her to retreat. All the progress they had made, gone. She shook her head, groaning at the physical effort. No, it wasn’t working. “God” a sob escaped her lips, turning into a cough fit. “It—it’s not. It’s...n—ot” her chest heaved as she gasped for air. She tried to hold onto him, but he wasn't at reaching distance. She dropped the extinguisher to the floor, her arm felt like it was gonna fall as well. She had to contact the firefighters. They would ask questions, investigate, sure. It was their job. They’d realize it was intentional. She didn’t think the bug threat would be a valid excuse. But she couldn’t risk the officer’s life any longer. “Run....” she managed to rasp, weakly motioning him to drop the extinguisher. Bringing a hand to her chest, she picked up her radio and did what she should’ve done in the first place. She stumbled backward, trying to get to Langley. Now they had to run to safety before the flames embraced them.

“I fucking am!” Kaden snapped back. He grumbled some more as he continued trying to fight the flames. As much as they were trying to push the fire back, it was winning. The heat and smoke slowly overtook the area growing and spreading faster than they could work. It was more than some sily fire extinguishers could handle. For a moment, he was stunned and stood in silent awe. Then he felt the smoke prick at his eyes and lungs, snapping back into reality. Shit. He heard her gasping behind him. She suggested what they should have done all along. Run. She didn’t have to tell him twice. He turned and started to run. Every step felt harder and hard. His lungs pleaded for more air, but each breath pulled in more smoke. His pace slowed, the coughs started to take over as he stumbled through the brush. She was just in front of him. Good. She could run faster. She’d be okay. He didn’t have to worry about her. Just had to keep pushing forward. His legs felt like lead but he kept going. Until his foot caught on a root, sending him sprawled on the forest floor, doubled over and coughing. Fuck. He groaned as he pushed himself up. Had to beat the flames. Had to keep moving. A little farther and they were at the office, his truck still parked in front. “Get in,” he said through coughs as he swung open the driver’s side door, throwing himself inside. He had no idea if they were in the clear this far up but he didn’t want to take any chances. “I’ll call it in, too,” he said, “but we have to get out of here.”

Once she made sure Langley had understood the message, Nicole took off. Her legs weren’t as powerful as they had been earlier, but still maintained a good distance from the flames. Her attention was on the steps behind her, turning every now and then to make sure he still followed. Her stomach sank when she heard him stumble, freezing for a moment before she saw him pick himself up. She watched him until she was sure he could continue. And they ran again, this time the station in sight. Somehow she managed to climb the truck as he ordered, smashing the door shut. Only then she allowed herself to believe danger was behind them. She threw her head back, panting painfully. The pressure in her chest wouldn’t let her catch her breath. She lifted her arm to her forehead, noticing how hot her skin was. She was dying for some water. She turned in her seat, trying to get a look through the back window. They were at a safe distance, but the flames would keep growing. Her heart hammered wildly in her ears. Or was it his? Bringing the radio to her lips, she waited. When the other end spoke up, she let out a shaky breath before relaying the information. She did her best not to let her voice waver, being as precise as her foggy brain allowed her. After the location details, she advised to dispatch more than one management unit, though she figured they’d assess that on site. Once the static signaled the end of the conversation, she groaned, another fit of cough taking over her body. She spared one look at the officer. She was ready to hear the ‘I told you so’. She deserved it. She had been so reckless. And shit— was she going to keep crying? How powerful were those bugs? She closed her eyes, shaking her head. “Shit...you alright?” No, of course not. What could she even say to him? “Sorry for— snapping at you and…” she coughed, “sorry...I really thought—-I don’t...don’t know what I thought.”

As soon as they were both in the truck, Kaden took off down the winding path back towards the main road. It wasn’t reckless driving but it sure wasn’t the pinnacle of safety. He grabbed his own radio and started calling it into the WCPD, doubling down on the need for the fire department. The fire in the woods would only grow for the time being, it would swallow up everything in sight. He needed to be sure it wasn’t them. There were no screams in the distance, no marker of his imminent death that he could make out. That didn’t do much to stop his heart from hammering. He turned the truck, parked it at the side of the entrance to the park, leaning over the wheel and letting out a few more coughs he’d been holding back. It took him a moment to make out what she was saying in between hacking up his own lungs, but when he turned he saw she was tearing up. “It’s fine. You don’t--” He started but sighed before he could figure out what he was trying to say. “You don’t have to apologize. I--” Kaden was fairly certain this was his fault. Hell, this was his idea anyway. He turned back to look at the smoke billowing up through the trees in the distance. He had no idea if it was the right call. The maroberers in that area were dead, certainly. But he’d helped burn down who knew how much of the forest. Then again, White Crest. Those woods were dangerous. Maybe it was the right call after all. “This was my idea. You don’t have to--” He looked back over at her. Clearly she didn’t have to handle situations quite like this too often. He wished he could say the same. “You alright? I’m not… I’m not sure if we can leave the scene. But I can see if one of my colleagues can drive by with something.” Kaden wasn’t sure how to be reassuring in these sorts of moments. “It’ll be okay,” he told her. “Just breathe. It’ll be okay. This will pass.”

It had to be the most intense car ride Nicole had experienced. If it weren't for the threat of fire hovering over them, it would’ve been a thrilling experience. That thought alone was proof her emotions weren’t in check yet. When he approached the park’s entrance, her breathing was  less shallow. Anger towards him bubbled again when he spoke. She would’ve preferred him to be honest. It was definitely not fine, not when the flames had already consumed so much  territory. Fuck, she hoped it’d stay away from the campsite. She opened her mouth to reply a few times, finding herself with nothing to say. She was even angrier at herself. She should’ve said no. Had she suddenly forgotten what her job was supposed to be? She forced herself not to think about her job situation after everything. She wouldn’t snap at him again, though. As much as it would’ve made her feel better. He couldn’t feel that great either. He had started the fire after all. “No. No we can’t—they’ll want” she pressed her lips tightly, frustrated at her own tears she shook her head, “we’ll have to talk to them” he knew, there was no point in explaining it. “I’m...I’m—the bugs...” she set her jaw, failing to explain why she still appeared to be tearing up. She exhaled sharply when he told her to breathe. She wasn’t even sure the difficulty to get air into her lungs was down to the smoke anymore, she really hated to be so vulnerable in front of a stranger. She couldn’t see, realistically, how things could be okay, but if that’s what he needed to tell himself she wasn’t going to go against it. Apprehensive eyes met his gaze for a moment, before examining his face. He was a mess, she had to be in a similar state. She wanted to thank him for not leaving her behind, but she couldn’t get her mouth to work. Eyebrows knit together, she nodded slowly. “Okay” was all she said, before opening the door. At the distance she began to hear sirens. All she could do now was to hope it’d be over soon.

#wickedswriting #writing #chatzy #nicole #nicsalazar #brittle blazes

[laylacooke]

New Moon Rising || Ariana, Alcher, & Layla

timing: Friday, 9/20 parties: @letsbenditlikebennett, @zahneundklauen, & @laylacooke summary: Ariana, Alcher, and Layla bond over dinner. warnings: death mention tw by all three characters

Nothing felt right. It’d been nearly a week since she read that news article about Winn and Ariana still felt numb. At least she had since seen Ace, but how weary she was didn’t seem to fade. No amount of woodworking projects, new recipes, or distractions seemed to do the trick. Diving into solving who killed him with Blanche helped to an extent, but they’d yet to find Winn’s ghost. Since she’d stopped by Kaden’s, she had seen Celeste a few more times. She seemed like herself and somehow, it had her reeling even more so. It couldn’t really be Celeste, but this figure sounded like her, acted like her and even smelled like her. Right now, it was the only thing pushing her forward. She idly fidgeted with the little wooden bat she’d been carving. Both vegan and regular chili were already on the stove. She’d made two macaroni and cheeses as well. The potatoes and veggies would work for both of them. The table and chairs she’d made looked nice in her dining area and she wanted to be excited she was having guests over. She had been so before, especially since Alcher and Layla would get to meet, but she couldn’t muster it anymore. Her energy seemed to be getting lower and lower though she tried to perk up and turn it on when she heard a knock at the door. 

Layla had been free from cat life for a little while, but the news she had come back to had sent her mood plummeting. The news of Winn’s death had been unexpected, and so badly she had contemplated going back to Cordy and seeing if the witch would turn her back into an animal. She hadn’t even had a chance to go apartment hunting with Winn, and now, she was lost on what to do. Thankfully, Ariana had given her an escape and offered up dinner. The trailer had been lonely without her, and while Ulf had given her the option to move into the house, it hadn’t felt right with Ari not being there. At least she had still had Indy with her. The one thing in her life that hadn’t moved on or away. With the small dog in tow, Layla found herself standing outside Ariana’s new place trying to decide if she had wanted to go in or not. Everything had felt off, since she had returned to werewolf life and laying low had just seemed to come naturally to her, “Should we go in, Indy? Or just grab some food from the grocery store and head back to the trailer?” She looked to the small dog in her arms hoping for an answer.

The first time Alcher had woken up in a place she didn’t recognize hadn’t been too much cause for alarm. The second and third times, however, were. She had always been extremely careful to make sure she did not lose track of time or herself, that she did not lose herself completely to the beast. Was this the work of the beast? Or was it coincidence that the full moon had just passed? She could not be sure, but she did know that she was going to try and get to the bottom of what was happening-- after this dinner with Ariana. It was important to gain her full trust, and the fact that she was bringing another wolf for her to meet. Layla was her name, and by the sounds of it, she, too, was a young wolf. This meeting tonight would be important. It would make or break Alcher’s ability to take these two into her fold. If she wanted to help them, she needed them to trust her and accept her first, and Alcher was nothing if not patient. 

When she arrived at the address Ariana gave her, she smelled the other wolf before she even saw her. She stood up ahead, on the sidewalk, looking up to the apartment. There was a dog beside her. Her father had always warned her of the danger of keeping a dog as a wolf-- they would end up dead, eventually, and the bond between the two would be broken. Still, these poor children were so lonely, weren’t they? Without a true pack, they sought companionship in domesticized cousins. She came up beside the red head. “I think,” she spoke softly, “we shouldn’t leave our friend waiting.” 

With the full moon having just passed, Ariana could hear the other wolves before they knocked on her door though it took them longer than she would have expected. She knew Layla walked up first when she smelled her and Indy arriving. Part of her reached for the door, but she’d give Layla a minute. It was hard to determine just what was holding her back though she did frown and gave both pots of chili another stir. A quick peek out her window told her the area was still foggy and the sky still darker than normal. Everything just seemed wrong which mirrored how she’d been feeling lately. People kept dying or getting hurt and it was hard to focus on what good could come of that when she felt like she was clawing away with nothing to hold on to. She shook the darker thoughts away, afraid of what they might bring. She hadn’t seen Celeste again since she’d left Kaden’s, but that was not a scene she could stomach happening in front of her again. When the knock finally did come, she threw on her most convincing smile and opened the door. “Come in,” she greeted warmly and gestured toward the living area, “I’ve got classic chili and mac and cheese going for me and Alcher. Got some vegan versions for you, Layla. Then some cast iron roasted vegetables for everyone because vitamins or something.” She gave them a quick little tour of the apartment and directed them to the barstools. “Did anyone want a drink? I’ve got water, White Claws, orange juice, milk, La Croix, and Sprite.” 

Layla could smell the other wolf before she had even gotten close, so the words hadn’t come as a surprise. Looking over, the redhead nodded softly. It wasn’t long before she was being escorted inside with Indy in tow. Ariana’s new place was nice. And it was something she had hoped to find with Winn’s help, but all the cat bullshit had gotten in the way, and before she could go apartment hunting, or even just see her friend one last time, he was gone. Thankfully it was an evening being spent with her best friend and apparently a new friend. One whose name had sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite place at the moment, “I know it’s a pain in the ass cooking two meals, but thanks, Ari. I’m more so just grateful for the company and not constantly hearing myself meow.” She laughed softly, “I’ll go with water.” Turning her attention back to the other person, she stuck out her hand, “I’m Layla, and this is Indy.” She showed Alcher the small dog, before sitting him down on the floor to go play with Luna. 

Alcher’s smile was warm and soft when Ariana opened the door to greet them. Despite the ache in her shoulder from the silver knife, and the strangeness of waking in places she did not remember going to, the smile was genuine. She was happy to see Ariana, smiling and sweet, after everything she had told her over the past few weeks. Someone hunting wolves, full moons being taken from them, and now the passing of a wolf whom Ariana had known-- Alcher wished she could take Ariana’s pain and carry it with her, but in all her years, that was the one thing she’d never figured out how to do. So, instead, she would be here to support her. And now she was finally meeting the other young wolf, Layla. They’d talked once on the internet, and now Alcher’s suspicions were confirmed. Though her brow did furrow at the mention of vegan food. They would have to deal with that discrepancy later. She first needed to bond with the girl. “We’ve met, actually,” she said to Layla, taking the offered hand, “online. I may have told you a different name, however. I go by Ada in public.” A grin. “But for my friends and for those I can trust, it is Alcher.” She turned back to Ariana, enjoying the smell of the food wafting around them. “It all looks wonderful, Ariana,” she said, heading towards the kitchen. “Water will do for now,” she answered. “So, tell me-- how did you two meet? Have you both lived her long?”

Ariana was quick to grab water for both of her friends. Somehow, playing the perfect hostess was enough to keep her mind idly occupied. At least until she remembered everything that had happened. It was hard to swallow back the lump in her throat, but she did as she handed them both glasses of ice water. “Here you go,” she said as she slid over coasters for them to use, “And I’m definitely gonna be that person with the coasters. Countertop isn’t wood, but most of the other surfaces are and I made them myself so…” As she realized the pair had chatted online, she noted, “Funny, a conversation was what inspired Alcher and I meeting. I’ve dubbed myself White Crest’s official trail guide… although that sounds like a good way to get axe murdered so maybe not though I guess I do have a one up on most.” Unless they were a hunter which apparently, she was shit at realizing ahead of time. At least the hunters she knew in town seemed to care for her. At the question of how her and Layla met, she briefly paused her stirring, “Oh uh, that’s a funny story. I’ve lived here about six months, Layla a little less? I may or may not have sniffed her out.” She’d let Layla tell the rest. It wasn’t entirely necessary to advertise the other wolf had been dumpster diving. 

That’s why this woman had seemed so familiar. Layla had talked to her already. Social media had a funny way of connecting people, “I don’t think I ever got your name actually, but it’s nice to meet you, Alcher. I’m Layla.” She turned her attention to Ariana, taking the glass of ice water, “Thanks, Ari, and coasters I can do. Everything looks amazing, by the way. I think Ulf would be proud.” She smiled before taking a sip of water and sitting her glass down on one of the recommended coasters. What the conversation had shifted to was something that Layla hadn’t let enter her mind in quite a while. She had gotten comfortable living in White Crest, and it had come to feel like home despite all the heartache it had brought, “Uh, yeah. Sniffed me out alright.” She laughed softly. Though her situation wasn’t funny, it was amusing to think how afraid of Ariana she had been, “I didn’t really have a home at the time, and Ariana found me rummaging for food behind one of the small restaurants in town. And the rest is history!” Layla wasn’t quite sure about Alcher yet, especially after the way she had been questioned by the other wolf when they had first started talking online. There were still lingering threats on her life from people in her past, and she was slowly learning that trust wasn’t just something to give out so easily anymore.

Alcher watched the two girls interact for a moment. They were familiar with each other, and they were obviously friendly, but there was just the slightest hesitation on Layla’s side, which meant Ariana was the wolf with more experience here. It made sense; Ariana had told Alcher she was born a wolf. From what she’d gathered, Layla was bitten. Which meant she could never be as much of a wolf as Ariana or Alcher. That wasn’t her fault, though, and as long as she wanted to try and be a better wolf, then she would have Alcher’s support. Smiling, she nodded between the two. “I’m glad you two met, then, and that you have each other,” she said. “I assume you’ve since found a place to live, like Ariana?” turned her gaze towards the young wolf she’d met earlier. 

Ariana was glad Layla felt comfortable enough to share exactly how they found each other. She knew it could potentially be embarrassing but it was good her friend was embracing her previous struggle and hopefully learning, too. There was no reason for any wolf to be alone in the world and she held Layla very near and dear to her heart. She put the finishing touches on the meals before she started to serve them. “Thanks,” she replied with a soft smile, “I’m sure he will be when he gets a chance to stop by. It still feels a bit weird not having you guys right there, but it’s nice being close to school. Blanche lives right across the hall, too, and I made friends with one of my neighbors, Grace… which is actually a funny story.” The part about Layla being a cat wasn’t all that funny, but as she set the plates down on the table by the kitchen, she said, “When you were still a cat, I happened to win a cat whistle in the craft fair prize. Tried to use it to lure you, but well, turns out it was a whistle for fae cat. It’s since been destroyed, but Grace happened to run into me with well… entirely too many cats around. Putai--” She cut herself off realizing it was probably best to not mention Kaden to Alcher until she knew she wouldn’t seek him out to hurt him. “They eventually left seeing as this place isn’t currently cat central.”

Ariana gestured toward the table and joined them. “I’m glad we found each other, too,” she commented with a wider smile now. “Who else would ride shotgun in my Barbie car with me?” She did miss being able to just hang out with Layla, but she supposed they were due for a sleepover one of these days. She knew Layla wanted her own place and was in the works of finding one. She’d let her explain all that to Alcher though.

“I’m glad we met, too. Ari pretty much saved my life. What about you two? How did you meet?” She looked from Ariana to Alcher back to Ariana. Noticing it was dinner time, the young wolf found her seat and sat down. Everything had smelled good, including the non-vegan food. It had been hard to contend with cat and werewolf cravings as a cat, often snacking on mice or canned fish when she could. The Pièce de résistance was the cooked salmon Deirdre had served up, even though Anya had nearly made her cat life a living hell, “It smells amazing, by the way. Like I could seriously eat it all. I mean…Sorry, cat life still has its lingering effects…” She bit at her bottom lip embarrassed, but perked up at the mention of Ariana’s neighbors and a fae cat whistle, “A cat whistle? That’s a new thing. I swear the people who judge the town contests must be spying on us, because they always seem to put the most ridiculous, but relevant things in our lives.” Layla looked to Alcher. “Did you enter the craft fair?” 

Alcher was enjoying watching the two interact. It was more than good that they were friends and seemed at ease with each other. It made her job easier. If one trusted her, the other would soon follow. Layla would be work, but Ariana was already warming up quickly. Either way, they were both worth it, and they were certainly in need of some guidance. Not eating meat, trying to turn people out of fear, turning into cats...yes, they certainly needed a guiding hand. That was what she was here for. She settled into her seat and smiled across at the two. “It’s wonderful to hear about how close you two are,” she commented, “though turning into a cat sounds...perilous. I’m glad you’re back to normal, now, and that we get to meet.” Gave a gentle smile at Layla before helping herself to the food Ariana had provided them. “I did not, and from what I’m hearing, I should thank the stars for that. Do all contests here give out strange prizes? I’ve heard other people complaining of them, as well,” she commented, glancing between the two.

There was a soft smile on her face as she took her seat and answered Layla’s question. “We actually started talking about hiking online,” Ariana explained, “And I offered to show her the trails since well, you know I know my way around the woods here. Obviously, we were pretty quick to sniff each other out.” From that point, Alcher had seemed to want to look out for her even if they didn’t necessarily see eye to eye on the Ace situation. She had almost regretted bringing it up, but she wouldn’t be swayed from protecting someone she cared for. Too much had been lost recently, she wasn’t about to lose someone else. She shook away that thought and took a few bites of her food. She laughed a bit about the cat whistle, “Yeah, apparently not a thing for real cats, but yeah, I’m glad you’re not a cat and have decided the prizes in this town are just sketchy. Plus, I’m pretty sure they ate the chair I made. Like I could have put that on my Etsy shop, so rude.” She shook her head and added, “Alcher, everything in this town is strange. Prizes included.” 

“I’m glad I’m back to normal, too. I don’t recommend cat life at all, and if it’s something that happens, I suggest staying away from Deirdre’s house. Her cat, Anya, is a nightmare and like oddly, super smart.” She shrugged off the cat and the bad memories as she reached for some of the food Ari had made for them, “You know, as long as I’ve been here, I still don’t know my way around. Maybe we could all go for a hike one day?” She looked between the two wolves. If Ariana had trusted Alcher, then getting to know the other wolf was something she wanted to invest time into. “Maybe you could show me a thing or two, Alcher?” Layla looked to the woman with a smile as she scooped veggies onto her plate. The one thing the teenager was starting to long for was a pack out of the loneliness she was beginning to feel. It seemed like just a few months back, the wolves of White Crest were onto a great thing, but a thing that never came to fruition. However, with Alcher around there was a chance that maybe the three of them could make magic happen.

“Hmm,” Alcher sighed, “you’re right, Ariana. This place is strange.” She took a moment of silence to contemplate more words before adding on, “But that’s part of the charm, isn’t it?” Smiled toothily at the two of them before continuing her meal. As she expected from the smell, the food was wonderful, though the idea of the non-meat meal still made her insides burn. A problem for another day. “I would love nothing more than to go on a hike with the two of you,” she finally said, sitting back. “I’d like to think I know my way around the woods a little better now.” She looked over to Layla, giving a short nod. A thing or two was putting it lightly-- this wolf needed work. But that’s what she was here for, right? To get them back on track. And these two had lost so much and so much of their packs already, they would perhaps need Alcher for longer than she usually stayed. “I believe I can do that,” she answered simply, putting a gentle hand on Layla’s shoulder. “In fact, I’d love to.”

The thought of all of them hiking together brought Ariana a sense of content that she hadn’t felt in entirely too long. All her life, she’d longed to be part of a pack and while she’d found other wolves in White Crest, it had always felt like a struggle to bring them all together and now so many had left. Or worse. Winn’s death was still entirely too fresh. She shook it off and took a moment before she smiled. “A hike together sounds perfect,” she responded, “There are some really amazing trails here though I tend to avoid any that go near the lake after the whole Squidward thing.” After taking another bite of her food, she added, “I’m sure you do. I was pretty quick to learn them, too. I’ve always enjoyed hiking.” No matter where she and Celeste had gone while on the run, they always found some trails to enjoy. As much was a matter of necessity come a certain time of the month, but all the memories she had with Celeste and how delighted wildflowers made her was something she’d always cherish. The wistful feeling wasn’t entirely unfamiliar though she’d rather try to keep creating new memories to cherish. “I’m sure there’s a lot we could both learn from you,” she turned to Layla and explained, “Alcher travels a lot to help other wolves, so I’m sure she has lots of tricks up her sleeve.” She smiled brightly for what felt like the first time in too long. This was nice. They were building their own little wolf family though she couldn’t help but wish Ulfric and Winn were here, too.

Scooping some of the vegan dinner options onto her plate as well, Layla was set. All the food had smelled and looked amazing. Her stomach rumbled at the sight of it, and as she listened to Ariana and Alcher speak of hiking and learning how to wolf, she dug in. Eating with a fork and at a table, rather than just shoving her face in a bowl of food was something she had definitely missed, “A hike it is then. You guys just let me know when and where.” Speaking of the woods, maybe before she met up with them, she could slip off to visit Celeste. It had been far too long since she had gone to pay her respects, and she had a lot to talk about with the woman. Though there had been so much on the forefront of her mind, not a day went by that she didn’t think of her in some way. Whether it be big or small, the hunter with a soft spot for werewolves, had been one of the biggest reasons Layla had survived, but out of fear of upsetting Ariana, she rarely brought her up. Instead, she focused back on the conversation going on in front of her, “Really? Where all have you been, Alcher? I mean if you don’t mind me asking.” She took another bite of food.  

Normalcy was relative, but as Alcher glanced around, she found that the only word she had for this moment was normal. How long had it been since she’d sat at a real table and shared a meal with other wolves? Even back in Canada, moments like these were rare. She’d taught that rather feral pack how to behave properly, but they were more wolf than human-- much like herself-- and they did not sit down at tables to eat meals. She looked fondly at the two wolves now sitting beside her. “Oh, many places,” she said, “though Maine was my first stop in the U.S. I lived in Poland most my life, it’s where I--” she paused, distinctly, allowing herself to remember these two were wolves. They were owed the truth, but trust was something Alcher held close to her heart. “It’s where I was raised after my family died.” She let the words come stiffly before moving on. “I was born in Germany. I’ve been to, let’s see now-- France, Austria, Denmark, Italy, Greece...Spain, Portugal, England and Ireland. And Scotland, in all technicalities.” She looked at the two. “Have either of you ever been out of the country?”

It was funny how realistically; this whole setup was all Ariana had longed for as she was growing up. As much as she loved Celeste, she longed for that sense of belonging with wolves, too, and it was her sister who had paid for that desire with her life. It felt wrong to enjoy this knowing what she sacrificed by refusing to leave this town. The deeper she found herself in the supernatural world, the more Ariana realized she had no clue what the hell she was doing, but she wanted this. Maybe it had been the question of the places she’d been that brought up the feeling of nostalgia. All those places she had gone had been with Celeste and she missed so many of those memories. “I’ve never been overseas, but I lived in Mexico and Canada both for a while,” she answered with a bit of wistfulness in her tone. She’d loved Canada and running through snow under the bright light of the full moon. “I did always want to go to Romania with my sister. Maybe I’ll still do that one of these days.” She realized she didn’t know if Layla had ever been out of the country and now, she was curious for the answer, so she watched her friend intently as she moved some food around on her plate with her fork.

Layla listened to the older of the two wolves explain her past. At the news of Alcher’s family, the redhead’s eyes fell, “I’m so sorry to hear about your family.” While she still had both of her parents, she had experienced death before of someone she was extremely close with; her grandmother. The one person that seemed to always be there for her growing up. Sitting silently, she took another bite of food, as she listened to Ariana talk about her travels to Canada and Mexico learning information she didn’t know, “Sounds like you both have been to some pretty cool places.” Traveling out of the country was something Layla had experienced, but it had been when she was small and could barely remember it. In her mind, it didn’t really count, “When I was like super little, I vaguely remember traveling out of the country, but I don’t really remember where we went or how long we were there.” Her parents, as hunters, had done a lot of suspicious stuff, and much of it, she struggled to remember, which had probably been for the best; especially since she didn’t quite trust Alcher to know about her hunter background yet. Instead, she would cherish this get together for what it was; new and old friends having a nice meal together.

As Alcher looked across the table at the two young wolves, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of hopefulness. They were young, malleable-- but they were also smart, and loyal. And they had already found each other. She could make this a good home for them, of that she was confident, and perhaps, along the way, she could make them good for this home. Teach them what she knew, how she lived. How to protect others, how to destroy those who might threaten them or their pack. So, it was with a small smile that Alcher lifted her glass to the two, a very human sentiment, and said a small cheers. “Here’s to hoping things only get better from here on out,” she said, “and at the very least, we can have each other.”

#para: new moon rising #letsbenditlikebennett #zahneundklauen #death mention tw #wickedswriting

[corpse--diem]

Cat Call | Kaden & Erin

TIMING: Current? PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup & @corpse–diem SUMMARY: Erin goes to pick up Betty at the shelter and has a brief but interesting run-in with one animal control office. 

Erin was out the door before she even hung up with the woman on the other end of the phone call. For all of the godforsaken things that had happened in the past few weeks, one good thing had finally fucking happened. They’d found Betty. Alive, unharmed, and ready to come home. Never in her life would Erin have pictured herself speeding through town for a cat. Here she was regardless, a drumming in her chest and the biggest, hopeful smile on her face as she burst into the animal shelter. “Hi!” she started, unintentionally cutting off the receptionist she’d just spoken with before she could greet Erin in turn. “I’m here for Betty? Nichols? Erin Nichols. We were just on the phone?” The woman laughed as Erin fumbled for identification. Once she was satisfied, she grinned, Erin’s excitement more than contagious. No doubt that this was probably one of the better parts of this job. Most were lost, but some actually found their way back home.

“Betty’s just in the back. Give me just one second,” the older woman assured her. The barking grew louder as she disappeared into the back and Erin tapped her fingers anxiously against the counter. The door reopened just a few moments later and she stood straight, a smile that practically showed all of her teeth until--

“...Kaden?”

It wasn’t unusual for Kaden to be in and out of the shelter multiple times a day. Picking up strays, dropping them off, for one. And sometimes he just liked stopping by, checking in. And very occasionally, he would get a hopeful call that a lost pet was found. It almost never turned out well. Not in this town. There were usually a few he was keeping an eye out for, certain cases he was following. Usually it was for the children he had to encounter. In this case, it was for a brown and white cat. Betty. He’d asked to be called second if a cat matching her description showed up. He had driven over to confirm, maybe tell Erin if she didn’t already know.

So he wasn’t entirely shocked to see her there, eager and excited. But she sure seemed shocked to see him. “Erin,” he greeted her. Not sure why she was surprised. He kind of worked there. “You know I’m here all the time. I know you do. Considering…” Considering they’d shared brain space a few weeks ago. He didn’t miss that. At all. Odd, guess they hadn’t run into each other in person since that happened. And since she went to jail. Or since she nearly got Blanche and Rio killed. And did get Sarge killed.

Why was he helping her get her cat back again? He sighed. There was no reason to think she was a bad pet owner. He had been in her head after all. There was a lot that he’d found there that he disliked. But there was no trace of animal cruelty or even negligence. And animals did bond to people. Keeping them in their homes was usually for the best. “Heard Betty was found. Congrats.” Putain, it was so awkward. He had no idea what to say or do in this situation. “Is someone getting her or do you need help?”

“Right, of course. I did know that,” Erin said quickly. She didn’t know why she’d been surprised either. Then again, it wasn’t as if the Frenchman she was uncomfortably well-acquainted with had been at the top of her mind. It’d been a mad dash out the door, relief and excitement and Betty trumping most other rational thoughts. The longer she stood here, the quicker they trickled back in. She shifted uncomfortably in place, a thick tension buzzing in the air that nearly rivaled the hum of bad overhead lighting. “I’m good. Someone’s getting her.” She paused, uncertainty and a dash of reluctance stifling her. “Thank you again for helping, or looking out anyway. You didn’t have to but you did, and I appreciate it. Really. So, just--uh, yeah. Thank you.” It was a clumsy apology, nerves she didn’t know what to do with fumbling her words, but it was a sincere one nonetheless.

Silence filled the room again. What was taking so long? Not that she had any desire to pop back into his brain ever again but she would have wagered this was just as weird for him. The guy probably hated her, and even if she tended to disagree with him on most things, she couldn’t blame him for his contempt. Not after the fire. “We don’t have to make this a whole thing, right?” She hushed her voice, glancing at the door. “I’ll just get Betty, go, and we can keep our ways thoroughly parted. Forever, if we can help it.”

Kaden wasn’t sure if he should stay or leave. Some strange social conventions seemed to be keeping him in place, though he was sure there was no written rule for this sort of moment. He could just as easily leave and go about his job. But he didn’t. Because he was stupid. “Don’t mention it. I mean it’s sort of my job,” he said with a small shrug. “Plus, it’s better for the animal if they remain with the same owner. Some sense of stability.” There was enough of Erin that was moderately likeable that he wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt that she could provide something stable enough to keep her cat. At the same time, looking at her, all he could picture was flames, Blanche’s burns, what he’d guessed the remains of Roland Hills looked like in his nightmares. It was hard to reconcile how to feel about her.

He drummed his fist against the counter, looking away from her and was about to leave, go back to work, when he caught the pointed glance that Allison, the shelter worker at the desk, gave him. His brow creased. “What is it?” he asked her. “Nothing,” she started, going back to shuffling papers for a full half second before turning back to them. “But maybe save your argument with your ex for someplace private. That’s all,” she added with a coy smile.

His ex? What ex? No one was here other than Er-- Oh. Oh. She thought… “I don’t-- We’re not-- I never dated her. Ever. At all. If that’s what you’re--” Allison held her hands up and made a face that looked like something Blanche would do that indicated how fucking little she believed him. “It’s not what you think it--” Kaden’s mouth pulled into a thin line, finally realizing this was a hole he wasn’t digging himself out of anytime soon. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Great. This wasn’t already awkward as shit. “Where the hell is Linda with your cat?”

To say Erin was anxious to get her arms around her much too long missing furball and hightail it out there was the understatement of the century. Some sense of stability. She was sure that wasn’t a well-disguised jab, given the sincerity in Kaden’s tone, but it dug at her all the same. Stability. Her teeth clenched down, forcing yet another tight-lipped smile. Just be nice. You only have to be nice for a few more minutes. “Don’t worry - I spoil her rotten. I’m sure she’s eager to get back to her ultra cozy lifestyle,” Erin assured him, a gentler smile replacing it. For a moment, anyway.

“Oh, God. No, no. No--” she insisted, joining in Kaden’s chorus of stern declines, despite the awkward laugh that fell from her. “That’s--no,” she adamantly emphasized the ‘no’ heavily again, shaking her head. Still, she narrowed her eyes in Kaden’s direction with unearned indignation, tilting her head, then turned pointedly to the receptionist. “I’m just… not really his type, you know? I think it was because I talk just too damn much. Guy likes his silence. Kind of a black and white issue with him, but,” she shrugged. “Can’t fault a guy for knowing what he likes. Right?” The woman tried to stifle her laughter, eyes growing a little wide as Erin smirked smugly at Kaden’s direction again. Petty? Yes. Did she regret it? Not yet. One last little dig for the road didn’t hurt.

“Here she is!” The voice pulled her attention back to the door. Erin saw the disheveled, dirty fur poking out from Linda’s arms, and just like that, everyone else in the room vanished. Her eyes burned with the threat of tears, the relief and joy melting every ounce of composure. Yep. The second she was in her arms, she was babbling like every embarrassing pet owner she’d ever seen as the tears streaked her cheeks. Oh God, this was embarrassing. God, she know it. Did she care? Not one bit. “Oh, my sweet girl,” she cooed, brushing back some of the matted hair on top of her head before burying her face into the soft fur, unable to lift her eyes to the three employees watching their reunion. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she mumbled, trying not to squeeze her too tightly.

Kaden was relieved that for once, him and Erin were on the same page about something as she explained to Allison that no, they weren’t dating and never had been. But his brow furrowed as she continued. Yeah, okay she wasn’t really his type since she was a criminal but he wasn’t sure where she was going with thi-- She had to be fucking kidding. The confusions on his face shifted to annoyance. “Pretty sure that’s not it. I’m into screamers, really.” It would almost be funny if his hearing wasn’t still a little muffled from that boat ride with Regan and Savannah. “And come on, if I was into black and white stripes, you would have been a perfect candidate, Erin.” Allison didn’t exactly seem convinced by their snipping that they’d never dated. Kaden didn’t care just then. He wanted to get the last dig in. “Ah, nevermind, that’s right. They wear orange now, right?” The receptionist's face was scrunched up as she tried to put together the pieces of the conversation and it was clear she was still coming up short.

“Kaden are you into that big orange mascot thing? You know from Philadelphia I think. Is that what you’re saying?” Allison asked him, clearly concerned and a little distrubed.

“Huh? No! A mascot? What the fuck are you-- I was saying she’s a crimin--” He stopped just short of finishing his sentence. Shit, if Allison thought Erin was a convicted criminal, she might not give Erin back the cat. Putain. “I mean, not really. Never mind. Just a joke. We still never dated so stop looking at me like that.” Allison backed off and went back to shuffling her papers just as Betty was brought out. He’d never been happier to see a fucking cat and it wasn’t even his. As much as he wasn’t Erin’s biggest fan, seeing the reunion between her and her pet was worth it. The corner of his mouth pulled into a smile as he watched her hug her cat. He caught a glance from Allison and saw her waggle her brows. The look he shot back was no longer smiling. “Glad you two are reunited. I mean it,” he said offering Erin a small smile and a nod before going back to work.

Erin couldn’t help the chuckle that followed when his coworker hopped on board, or even the shocked one that followed the ‘screamer’ bit. Really? Her eyebrows rose unbelievably but decided that she could let that one slide. Seemed like Allison was getting as much enjoyment out of this as she was. Prodding the grumbly bear must have been more than a few of his coworkers favorite pastimes. No wonder he was grumpy. “You’re right,” she gestured towards Kaden, seemingly giving in. “You just need a lot more than I can provide. I’m big enough to admit that,” she smirked over in Kaden’s direction.

It was all fun and games until the word criminal nearly left Kaden’s lips. Her eyes shot wide open while he backtracked, and thank God she’d been preoccupied with Betty’s return otherwise the jabs would have come less jokingly than before. But once Betty was in her arms, there was nothing that Kaden could say to inspire any real rebuttal, joking or not. One good thing--she’d just wanted one good thing and she finally had it. She needed a bath and a thorough brushing but she figured that was a fair tradeoff. Glanced up long enough to see the soft smile on Kaden’s face before he gruffly brushed it away. Nodded in return before Kaden walked off, a sincere smile of her own finding her lips, before it was finally time to take Betty home.

#wickedswriting #chatzy #chatzy: kaden #cat call #//this was very dumb but surprisingly sweet

[danetobelieve]

End Of The Mime || Simon and Winston

Getting sent down to the morgue normally wasn’t so bad, they got to see Cece and Dr Kavanagh. But this time when Winston had left the station their mime had been sat in it’s cell. It was in the same place it had been since Roland had someone put them in there. It had not said anything. Yet there was something about the stillness, the malevolence in the silence, it sent a shiver down Winston’s spine even thinking about it. They didn’t know why but they got the feeling that leaving the station was a mistake. But they couldn’t exactly say no and it was getting late, they’d be going home soon. Walking down the corridors of the morgue, they headed towards Cece’s office, spotting the Janitor they paused to greet them. “Hey, Simon right?” they said tucking the stack of files they were carrying somewhat haphazardly under a single arm and sticking out a hand for the customary handshake, “I’m Winston, I don’t think we’ve properly met, I’m an intern at the station.” 

He wasn’t sure why he was there - Simon supposed he felt the residual filth from helping Dr. Kavanagh recently with her escaped beetle problem and he wasn’t one to simply let things sit, especially if he could make an area look better than when he arrived. The work was tedious but that worked in his favour most of the time and he found himself zoning out slightly when he caught a scent and he glanced up just in time to see a young individual approach him with papers and an extended arm for a handshake. “Er... hi, Winston,” He nodded politely, returning their handshake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Now he knew where he recognised the scent - he remembered faint traces of it when he’d walk through the station for one reason or another. Now he knew who it belonged to; that would make it easier for him in the long run, he thought. “What brings you to the morgue this fine… evening? Afternoon?” He glanced down at his wrist as if there was a watch there - there wasn’t. Right. “I lost track of time.” He shook his head. “Anyway, what brings you here?”

Raising an eyebrow gently Winston was pleased to find that they weren’t the only person who was slightly awkward, they weren’t sure that would contribute for the most conducive conversation however, but they were nothing if not persistent. “I think we actually met at Kaden’s birthday party, very briefly though, you were doing shots with the rest of the gang from the station…?” it was a tenuous link and Winston had drunk a lot that evening, their memory might not be what it once was of that evening. “I have some files and samples for Cece and Dr Kavanagh.” They shifted their load of files and samples to both hands and gestured at it with their chin to indicate that they actually had something with them, as if that weren’t obvious given the haphazard state it was in. “I think it’s stuff that came in a bit later today and they wanted them to have them for whenever they were able to work their way through them.” Normally they just let themselves into the offices and dropped them there, but this was a nice change of pace. Simon blinked stupidly for a moment; they met at Kaden’s party? He was sure Winston wasn’t lying but he had met so many people that night and most of them WERE drunk enough that the faces and smells blurred together. He must’ve accidentally prioritized his memories of that awkward night incorrectly. “Ah, sorry,” He apologised with a nervous chuckle. “I totally forgot about… well, most of what happened that night.” He glanced down at the papers as Winston explained their reason for being there. “Well, that’s kind of you,” He replied, his smile going from nervous to gentle. “Could you use my assistance in any way?” He asked. “I can hold a door open or something.”

“Don’t worry, I had a lot to drink too, most of that night is a blur, not that that is a bad thing, I am not the biggest fan of mimes if I’m being truthful.” Winston hated the town’s weird obsession and the fact that there was obviously some supernatural involvement at foot. Raising an eyebrow, Winston smiled gratefully at Simon. “Thanks that would actually be really helpful, trying to open doors with the toes of my converse is harder than it looks.” They wiggled the end of their left foot as if to illustrate. “I’ve got to go to Cece’s office first, most of this stuff is for her but I’ll double check there’s nothing for Dr Kavanagh.” Winston headed off, they knew that Simon must know the way too and there was no point waiting. Indeed, Simon had become very familiar with the layout of the morgue over the past couple weeks, making sure to absorb every detail he could and cleaning locations he didn’t think he would have had to. He followed Winston as the latter led the way to Bishop’s office after setting his mop aside, trying to remember when he specifically met Winston at the party but getting caught up with the ‘mime’ comment. “I’m not, either,” He agreed. “Before I came here, I had a respect for the art itself but the mimes here are just… I don’t know but there’s something off about them.” He tried to explain, though not very well. “Either way, that party was a little awkward. I don’t think Kaden liked it.” He recalled both Kaden’s evident displeasure and Regan’s comments that seemed to support his line of thought.

“Honestly, before now I never really gave mimes much thought. They weren’t really anything I ever particularly had cause to consider until now.” Winston wasn’t pleased with their continued exposure to the mimes either. “But yeah, that party was not my favourite thing that I’ve ever been to and I do not think that I would ever bother going back. It wasn’t exactly something that I enjoyed.” They had never thought that anyone would be able to make mimes behave in that way. Heading down the hallway, Winston turned and nodded towards Cece’s office. “If you wouldn’t mind doing the honours,” they said with a smile, “then hopefully we can get out of here.” The small talk benefited them and it didn’t take long at all for the duo to reach Cece’s office wherein Simon gave a small nod and turned the knob, pulling it open and holding it much like a guard, playfully stiff and straight-backed. “After you, my good person.” He said in a much more exaggeratedly British accent. “I shall remain here until your quest is complete.” He wasn’t even sure why he was being so cordial - maybe he was just in a good mood or he felt more comfortable in the morgue given his past profession. It helped that it was just him and Winston. Maybe the moon had something to do with it. Whatever the reason, he felt as though he should’ve apologised to the other for his goofiness but… naaah. 

Slipping into the office, Winston flashed Simon a bright smile and set a large portion of the files down onto Cece’s desk, quickly sifting through them, they rearranged everything neatly and scribbled a quick note for when she returned to work the next day. “I’ve just got to put these in Doctor Kavanagh’s office and we should be good to go,” Winston slipped away for a moment, placing the few files that the coroner would need for the next’s days work on her desk in a neat pile with a much neater note. They were just about convinced that they were done for the day and were headed out into the hall when they spotted it. Black and white stripes, a dark beret, even the mime’s glasses had stripes and worst of all it looked exactly like Winston. “Oh, fuck.” They practically shouted the phrase, their surprise so great, but the mime didn’t say a word, turning silently and making eye contact with Winston and grinning the widest smile it possibly could. Simon was patient though his gaze followed his temporary companion as the latter set the papers down on their respective desks. This was a nice, easy-- Then he heard Winston curse and he peered out from around the door he was holding open and before him was… Winston. But it wasn’t. It LOOKED like Winston but… mime-fied. How did it get in? How had he not heard it? And why was it smiling? “Uhhhh Winston?” He asked, confusion evident in his soft tone. “Whhho is that?” He released his grip on the door, letting it swing shut as he edged closer to the intern, keeping his eyes on whatever that was on the other side of the hall.

Simon was between Winston and this mime. That meant that if the mime stayed true to form then it was possible that it would probably try and kill Simon before doing the same thing to Winston. “I don’t actually know who or what that thing is, all I can tell you is that it is a murderous mime clone of me and it seems fairly hell bent on trying to kill me.” They looked from the mime to Simon and then back to the mime who seemed to be miming the sharpening of a knife? Weird. Winston hated every second of this. “Either way, they’re not a nice mime, so if you could get away from it just a little quicker this would be great.” Please don’t use magic until Simon was safely with Winston. Please don’t use magic. How quickly the environment could shift from casual to tense as Simon indeed found himself between Winston the friendly intern and Winston the intimidating mime and he wasn’t sure he liked this turn of events. This was bad; intuition told him that if this mime was anything like the ones he had encountered already, it probably had whatever was pumping through Winston’s blood, whether human or something else. “Don’t gotta tell me twice, kid,” the older man quickened his pace as he found himself backing up but it didn’t seem to be quite fast enough as the mime suddenly made a motion that looked like a lunge and swung an arm like pitching a ball and a ball it was - a ball of FIRE that quickly seemed to spiral like a curved baseball before smacking into the wall next to Simon. The latter yelped instinctively and jumped like a cat seeing a cucumber and like the coward he was, scrambled around and subsequently behind Winston. “You guys know magic?” He asked, having this be the first time the possibility was presented to him in his reality.

They used magic. Of course mime Winston had decided that now was the time to show their hand. At least this time Winston was ready for the fireball that they hurled in Winston’s new friends direction. They took a breath as they saw the inferno flicker to life in their mime copies fingers, the bright orange flames licking it’s fingers before it wound it’s arm back and hurled it through the still air of the morgue. Winston accessed the chaos, the energy, the writhing void in their stomach that they felt when they reached for magic. The energy surged through them as they forced a small barrier in front of Winston. The fireball ricocheted off into the wall, leaving a dark scorch mark on the white paint. “Yeah, I don’t exactly go around telling people,” Winston replied as they felt the energy from their exertion drain from their body, but they were ready for that, they’d come prepared. They literally didn’t have the stamina to take themselves but neither did their mime, so they had come prepared. “Listen, I can’t beat this on my own, can you help me?” they stepped forward and used the barrier to bat another ball of fire away. It took a few seconds but Simon always had the ability to act and react quickly and he glanced around for a weapon. His first thought was his handy-dandy mop buuut that was on the other side of the hall so he glanced at his hands, the hands that turned into sharp claws when he was desperately afraid or-- well, now that he thought about it, he hadn’t known them to appear otherwise yet so maybe that was the only emotion that called them. He’d have said he was scared at that moment but somehow, knowing that Winston could perform magic and he was proficient at running away since he knew the entire layout of the morgue, he supposed he wasn’t that scared. It might’ve also had to do with the time of lunar cycle… He shook his head. “Yeah of course, what do you need me to do?” He asked, ready to do whatever was asked of him.

As the mime kept eye contact with Winston and seemed to be preparing another explosion of magic that would go in their direction, Winston scrabbled through their backpack. For months they had been working on this. Pulling out a small metallic disk, it was maybe five inches wide with a slight ridge which had wires tightly wrapped around it. The theory behind it, a careful blend of technology, alchemy and enchanting. This had been their project for months now. They had designed it from scratch, hand engraved the various runes, spent hours enchanting everything and they’d even designed the power source by hand. It was ingenious really, a small gyroscopic system that had self maintaining motion which powered itself. Tossing the disk to Simon, Winston heard it clatter to the floor but they weren’t worried, they’d designed it to take some serious hits. “Press the button please and then maybe stand back.” Winston watched as the mime allowed a wave of magical force to erupt in Winston’s direction but they used their magic to quell it, feeling sweat pour down their face as they exerted their effort here. Tried as Simon might’ve to catch the disc, he fumbled with it last second and winced as it hit the floor. He hastily swiped it up as though he did that on purpose and examined it curiously as Winston described what to do with it; he was thankful for the instruction ‘cuz he ain’t never seen a frisbee like that before. It… wasn’t a frisbee, his wires were just crossing inappropriately again. Probably because he was lowkey worried about this fight and how much of a pain it would be to clean up. “Button, got it.” He announced and carefully but firmly pressed the button with a spidery finger. Speaking of spiders, when he pressed the button, out started to unwind four spider-like mechanical limbs from the disk and he mixed dropping and placing it to the ground, indeed taking a step back as the spider-disc fell to the floor and started to zip forward. “Whoa, what’s that do?” He found himself asking as the little mechanical creature advanced to the mime.

Hearing the whir that denoted the small bot turning on, Winston couldn’t help but feel a thrill that they had actually started and appeared to be working for the most part. It was weird, Winston could almost feel it as it scuttled along the tiled floors of the morgue. It zipped away from Simon. “Thanks dude,” Winston said as the mime seemed to completely miss Winston and pulled back another fire ball hurling it at Winston violently. They barely managed to get a shield up in the way, and when they did the fire crushed through it forcefully, it enveloped Winston and knocked them back gasping for air, they lay there, practically on top of Simon’s feet, hoping and praying that they would have done their job well enough. “Ugh, I really am not good at this magic shit.” They grunted as they tried to get back up, but collapsed under their own exhaustion. Simon instinctively crouched over Winston as the latter fell at his feet as if he could protect them from any further damage. He would’ve made a light, sarcastic comment about how a magician wasn’t very good at magic but he was certainly not one to talk in an ‘I can do magic’ sense OR an ‘I can control my own stuff’ sense so he settled with a “Hey, you did a great job!” Unfortunately for either of them, the mime wasn’t ready to give up despite how tired it was becoming and it seemed to forgo using magic - if it was anything like Winston, it was probably close to its limit on magic, too - and decided to pull out a… knife. Okay, old fashioned but okay and it started to rush the two. Simon noted where the spider was and decided to clash with the mime head-on, only just now feeling his nails elongate slightly as he found himself in actual danger this time. He was scared but more than that - he was fired up, actually feeling like he might’ve been helping someone else this time. The two rammed into each other and though Simon twisted his torso around at the last second to avoid the first stab wound, the mime swung broadly and sliced into his arm. The smell of blood was quick to find Simon and that just seemed to make him feel… stronger. It was hard to explain. Sharp claws reacted by grabbing and sinking into the mime’s arm that held the knife, extending his arm as far out as it would go to create space. His other hand on the mime’s parallel shoulder to keep them from getting too close to each other, he noticed that the mime’s other hand was drawing back for what he presumed was one more magic attack. “Nnn dammit,” He cursed.

Delirious with exhaustion, Winston swallowed back a mouthful of blood that had filled their mouth when they hit the floor of the morgue. They watched as Simon rushed to protect them. They would’ve uttered some complaint, some reason for Simon to stay out of it so that someone else didn’t get hurt trying to help Winston, but they were too slow and they were grappling. Winston saw the knife flash, they saw magic gathering in their own hand, although it was the gloved hand of a mime. Swallowing once more, they used the last of their magic to drive the spider onwards. It scuttled up the wall, pausing in wait for Simon and mime-Winston to come close enough and then as the mime prepared to hurl more magic Simon’s way. The spider detached from the wall, it’s four wire legs proving that it wasn’t really a spider, but the legs enveloped the chest of the mime. It did its job, positioning itself on Mime-Winston’s back, placing the contact pad over where the heart was and emitting a powerful electric pulse. Fortunately it wasn’t touching Simon otherwise Winston would’ve probably killed their new janitor friend. Mime Winston looked shocked, silently raised a hand to their lips before dissolving into a black and white cloud of smoke. Winston watched the bot clatter to the ground, wire legs without any power as it smoked there and Winston did their best not to pass the fuck out. One moment, Simon was in a locked position with the mime, ready to take a fireball to the face and the next, it all but disappeared, dissolved into a cloud of black and white. Simon fell forward and caught himself lightly as the spider clacked onto the floor after shocking the hell out of the mime. The older man let out a heavy exhale but didn’t let himself remain there longer than a few seconds before he turned and scrabbled over to where he’d left Winston. “Hey hey hey,” He said with an even tone, his breathing betraying his otherwise mild temperament. Without really thinking, he placed his hands under Winston’s back and the knees of their legs respectively and picked them up gently. “You alright? Stay with me, I’ll take you to the doctor, okay?” He asked, turning on a heel and stooping just long enough to swipe up the little machine in a fluid motion as he walked with a purpose in his stride. “You did really good,” He said with a smile. “That little spider is incredible. YOU were incredible.”

#end of the mime #wickedswriting #chatzy para #para #p: simon

[superrosespy]

Begin Again--Supernatural Story

Chapter 1

 The music that flooded through the car did nothing for the frustration pounding at my head. I groaned and tightened my ponytail as Kaden took another left. It had been a stressful week, that's for sure. The number of demons seemed to have doubled overnight leaving me with no time to focus on my schoolwork. Kaden and I had decided to return to hunting full-time ever since the Devil's Gate was opened. No one really knew what had happened, but I had my suspicions. After hearing about all the weird stuff going in Nebraska, we headed straight there.

       "So my guess is that these are the Seven Deadly Sins. I mean, Pride....Lust....what else could it be?" Kaden asked. We'd always had a very practical approach to hunting and never stopped studying the lore, even when we took a hiatus to focus on our schoolwork.

       I nodded slightly, "I think you're right. Starving to death in front of a TV....eating yourself to death....I think we're dealing with some big bads here."

       My best friend nodded, his blond hair falling in his face slightly. "And those FBI agents they mentioned? Do you think--"

       I could tell he didn't want to bring it up so I just nodded, "For sure."

       "So...." He looked at me cautiously, his blue eyes seemed to bore into mine, "you believe all the rumors, then? That the Winchester's opened the Devil's Gate?"

       I shrugged, "As much as I hate to defend them....I don't think they would ever do something like that. Maybe they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, you know? And knowing them, they won't stop until they've fixed it. So, yeah." I nodded resolutely, "Yeah, it's them."

       Kaden didn't look too happy about that which was understandable given the circumstances. We had spent about two years hunting in a group with the eldest Winchester while Sam was away at college. I had also spent quite a few years hunting with the boys when we were younger. I can't say that I know them perfectly, but I know them well enough to know that they would do anything for their family. I had a crazy feeling that this whole Devil's Gate problem was actually a Winchester problem. "Well...if it really is them...just promise me you--"

       "I'm fine, Kaden. It's been years. Water under the bridge." He didn't look convinced at my response but he stayed silent as we pulled up to the house. We were clearly late to the party. I exchanged looks with Kaden before we ran inside without a second thought.

D E A N

       Not gonna lie, things weren't going the way I'd planned. Lust had somehow cornered me in a bedroom of all places and the holy water was only five feet away. I could feel her working her creepy magic on me but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. I just had to get her to the bathroom. So I just pretend she's winning. I took a deep breath and leaned in for the kiss but I was quickly interrupted by the door slamming open. I could've taken the opportunity to get away from the demon, but I was far too distracted with what I saw.

       The sunlight pouring in from the window was enough to make her brown hair shine. Her blue eyes were fierce and intense. My breath hitched in my throat, I hadn't seen her in years. Before either of us could move, Audrey had knocked Lust to the other side of the room.

       Man, it is good to have her back.

       She shook her head, "I knew it was the two of you behind all of this."

       I flashed a smirk in her direction, "You know me, Sweetheart. I like a challenge."

       "Screw you, Dean."

       A low laugh came from the corner of the room, "Fascinating." We turned around to see Lust back on her feet, a mischievous look in her eye. "Can you feel that? The energy is almost palpable. And I can promise you that I had nothing to do with it."

       She tilted her head slightly and my heart sped up. My throat dried as images flooded my mind of grabbing Audrey and pulling her to the bed behind us. Not the time, Dean. I can fight her. I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed the thoughts from my mind. We were too close to let Lust win now. I signaled to Audrey and we moved at the same time. Coming at her from both directions allowed us to catch her off guard. I left Audrey in the room to guard and dragged the demon to the bathroom.

       The longer I was near her, the stronger the urge was to turn back and make a move on Audrey. It was as if she could hear my thoughts....she started laughing, "C'mon, Dean," She taunted, "You've wanted her for so long and she's right in the other room."

       I fought against every bone in my body that screamed to act on my impulses by focusing on Sam. Everyone is counting on me downstairs. That was enough for me to finish the job. Thankfully, I could feel my heartbeat return to normal as Lust passed out on the floor. I took a deep breath and prepared to see Audrey again now that my mind was completely clear.

       But she was gone by the time I came back. I groaned in frustration. The whole thing was just Lust messing with my head. That's so messed up.

       I tied up the demon for good measure before carrying her downstairs to the main fighting ground. That's where I found Bobby, Sam, and.....Kaden? There were five bodies lying around them on the ground. I cursed under my breath. If Kaden is here....it must mean that Audrey had actually been there too. She probably just left before I had the chance to talk to her. I threw the demon into the pile and looked around, "Where is the last one?"

       "Audrey's on it." Kaden answered, clearly unhappy to see me, "And I'm almost positive that you volunteered for Lust....so it must be Wrath that she's taking out."

       His words stung. He's positive I volunteered for Lust? What a childlike thing to say. I glared back at him preparing to attack, but Bobby beat me to it, "Enough, boys. We've got seven demons to exorcise here."

       I rolled my eyes and took a seat by Sam who weakly patted my back. He's the only one who really understood everything that had gone down. It was such a mess I could not be more grateful that at least one person understood. Bobby had started the first exorcism when Audrey walked in carrying a man bridal style. "Lucky number seven?" She announced with a weak smile and dropped him to the floor.

       Sam smiled at her, "It's good to have you back, shortstop."

       "We're not back, Sam. We're here to clean up your mess then we're gone. I have a life I have to get back to."

       "I get that. I do have a quick question for you, though." I was super impressed at how Sam was handling Audrey's sass.

       She must have been too because she just nodded at him to continue. He just went for it by asking her if she had ever heard of a weapon that could kill demons. Her brow furrowed and she tugged at a piece of her hair, "Like...besides the Colt?"

       He nodded, "Yeah. Maybe...a knife?"

       "That would be awesome, Sam. But there's nothing else I can think of."

       "Alright. One last question....how would one get out of a deal with a demon?"

       I glared at my brother and prayed that over the last few years our friend had become dumber than she used to be. He was being so on the nose, though, she was bound to find out. She leaned back against the wall and folded her arms, her hard-set gaze shifted between me and Sam. "Why would one of you ever make a deal with a demon? You two are dumb, but you're not that dumb." Her eyes locked to mine and she glared, "Dean." Then she just sighed, "Dean, why would you sell your soul?"

       I ignored her question and jumped up to help Bobby with the demons' bodies. Very few had survived the possession. The longer I could avoid Audrey the better. She was literally going to kill me.

       As Bobby and I walked away from the building I could hear Sam trying to talk her into staying to fight with us. I shook my head. If he was actually successful in that we wouldn't last a day. "You could just talk to her, y'know." Bobby grunted as we started digging the grave.

       I snorted, "Yeah right, Bobby. You know I'm the last person she wants to see."

       "Well, son. You're the one who keeps complaining about how you're running out of time. You should fix things with her before then."

       "It's not happening, Bobby. She hates me and I have less than a year left." I shook my head, "It doesn't matter anyway."

       He shook his head but didn't say anything else. We finished the grave and dropped two bodies in when Audrey's laugh rang out from the house. As we walked back, it was obvious that she was enjoying herself. My grip on the shovel tightened automatically as we stepped inside to see her and Sam. They were sitting together at the table, talking and laughing. I rolled my eyes and grabbed the next body.

       "Y'know there are three of you. If you'd each grab a body we'd be done by now." Bobby growled at the two sitting down. I watched them exchange a look before Sam stood up and offered a hand to help her up. I scoffed and headed outside before I could make another sarcastic comment that would drive her away. This is ridiculous. She shouldn't be here anyway.

       "If you don't mind me asking, how did y'all find out about this case? I mean, you were studying to be a doctor. What caught your attention?" This was the first time I had actually felt jealous of Sam's soft voice. He just understood people. He knew how to connect and he earned people's trust really quickly.

       I heard a soft sigh escape from Audrey, "Yeah, well...no one really missed when the Devil's Gate was opened. Kaden took it as a sign that we never should have quit hunting. He's found so many cases that I think I might have to quit school for good."

       Well, the two of them did have a lot in common. I finished my part of cleaning up and headed back to the Impala. Bobby talked to me about omens to look out for and he was off. I took a look at Kaden's car and laughed. He still drove a Ford Truck. White, of all colors. Weak. I placed a gentle hand on my baby and looked up to see the three stooges finally make their way over. "They're coming with us, Dean."

       My heart stopped, "What?"

       Kaden scoffed and headed to his truck while Audrey crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin in defiance, "I'm not thrilled about it either, pretty boy. But Sam needs all the help he can get."

       I glared at my brother again before looking back to the other two, "Look. No one here is in immediate danger, and we work alone. So--"

       "Dean, I'm not stupid. I know you made a deal. We might be able to help you figure it out."

       "You can't just flash a smile at the demon and expect everything to be okay."

       Anger flashed in her eyes, "Listen up, douch---"

       Sam grabbed her arm and they whispered intensely to one another for a while. I rolled my eyes and flipped Kaden off behind my back. I knew he was sending me dirty looks, I could feel it. Finally, they finished talking and she went straight to the ugly truck without looking in my direction. "Come on, Dean. I worked on her for over an hour just to get you a shot at a second chance. Don't ruin this."

       "Whatever, Sam. She hates me."

       "No, she doesn't. Just...be gentle."

       I groaned and stared at the sky for a good minute, "I cannot believe you brought those two back into this."

       Sam just shrugged, "Maybe they can help. Let's just give this a shot."

       I didn't say anything, I just got in the car and turned the radio on as loud as I could.

#begin again #supernatural #spn #spnfamily #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester fanfiction #fanfic

[sarah-bae-maas]

A Court of Hearts and Darkness Chapter Thirty One

It’s been over a century since the epic and bloody war against Hybern, but a new, unprecedented horror lies in wait to threaten everything the Inner Circle holds dear.

At a mere 17, it seems that the only one who can save them is the Heir to the Night Court, Feyre and Rhysand’s daughter Eleana, but as a creature so vile promises to kill everyone she loves, she must combat the urge to succumb to the darkness herself. The key to success lies hidden within her mate, the bastard born Kaden, who is as oblivious to the bond as her Court is oblivious to the war on the horizon.

With the help of her cousin and warrior Felix, the son of the famed Nesta and Cassian, they will try to save everything they hold dear, hopefully before the darkness takes them all.

(This fic was written pre-acowar, so please bear in mind there are some small differences but it can still hopefully be enjoyed!)

Link on Ao3 Masterlist

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***

-Chapter 31-

“How can this be?” Feyre was clinging to him so tightly it was a struggle to breathe, but he didn’t mind. Felix loved affection from anyone, but especially his family.

He may be a warrior, a brute in some people’s eyes, and although now he had the scars to match he was still the quite soft. His softness and his fierceness complemented each other well, and Felix hoped his sisters would grow to be the same – protective of themselves, but still open to love in its many forms.

“It’s a miracle,” Azriel said.

“Truly.” She stepped back, laying a hand on his cheek. “And I know it’s you – your mind is wholly yours and exactly as it has always been.”

“Where are my parents? My sisters?”

“They’ve returned to Velaris. I’ll summon them to the House of Wind now-”

“No, no. Just ask them to go to our family home. Please.”

Feyre nodded, her eyes crinkling from joy and her smile wide. “I’ll make sure you can get inside. I’m just so shocked, and happy, and when we get Eleana back she’s going to be thrilled. She’s missed you so much.”

After another hug, Feyre winnowed them all to Felix’s childhood home. Felix would have done it himself, but since waking from the Other Side he didn’t completely trust his magic. So far, it felt and moved with him the way it had before, but how could he know how his death would affect it?

When Azriel put his hand on his shoulder as they walked up the garden path, he sighed in relief. He needed the comfort.

The first night, when he had awoken in darkness, he had screamed himself hoarse. It had taken all his strength to crawl towards a source of light, and all it had been was docks in the distance. He wasn’t near Velaris, he had no idea where he was, and as he felt the blackness consuming him he quivered and cried.

Not his finest moment.

He had yet to shake the feeling that came over him every time he was somewhere enclosed or dark. That cell had been a nightmare, and it was Kaden’s presence that soothed him enough to be coherent. If Azriel had left him down there much longer on his own, he might’ve become so feral he put the creatures to shame. He still willingly let Az put him there though, he needed to seem trusting, needed to convince his family he was who he said.

If the roles had been reversed, Felix would have killed himself on site rather than risking the safety of his family any longer.

Speaking of his family, he needed more details on his cousin and to what exactly her predicament was. He would happily blaze himself into an inferno of nothing once more if it meant saving her.

They entered the house and Felix quickly rushed upstairs to get a change of clothes. He would scare his poor mother to death if she saw him in this state.

When he came downstairs again – he also decided to quickly bathe, the smell on him would make even the creatures cringe – he heard the voices of his parents in the lounge.

Their words weren’t distinguishable, but Nesta seemed to be a bit hysterical, her tone high and scratchy in a way he’d never heard it. His father’s voice was low, and he often skipped a breath.

They had their backs to him as he entered the room, and the slight creak of the floorboards as he walked was what made them turn. Felix didn’t know what Azriel and Feyre had told them, but their reactions made him think absolutely nothing.

They both stilled, their bodies as rigid as statues.

His mother was the first to move, her mouth opened and closed as she looked at him, and she shook her head in disbelief. She took one tentative step forward, and then leant back into Cassian. Her eyes were flitting up and down him, taking in every inch of his alive body. She half-stretched out her hand, her bruised fingers shaking like a fallen leaf in the wind. It was the opposite of his father, who’s only movements were that of his hands as he held Nesta by the waist, keeping the woman afloat.

They stared at one another – Felix not daring to utter a word or make a move toward them.

Felix believed they may have stood there for hours just looking at each other if it had not been for his sister trapesing around the room absentmindedly, skipping to her heart’s desire. She hadn’t noticed him, not yet.

The first thought that entered his head at the sight of her was that it was far past her bedtime.

The sudden silence in the room prodded her to approach her parents, and when she saw Felix standing there – tall and strong and secure as he had ever been – a smile as bright as the sun in the Summer Court spread across her face.

“Lis!” she gasped, her tiny legs working to run as fast towards him as she could.

The breath was knocked out of him from her words. He knelt to meet her, arms wide open, letting her crash into him. He lifted her, giving her a kiss on both her cheeks as she asked where he had been. He apologized profusely, and as he said to her, “I had to leave for a bit, but I’m back now, and I’m here to stay,” he looked over her head and into the eyes of his mother and father.

She accepted his apology and started chattering away, telling her all about the things she had done and seen while he’d been gone. He was half-listening, and although he felt guilt at that he was too distracted by his unmoving parents.

He’d thought… He’d thought that they would be happy to see him, that they would be grieving him.

But from the looks of them he wasn’t sure they wanted him back.

“Feyre would you mind taking Quathryn and Thea upstairs, please?” Cassian asked. Feyre nodded, taking Quathryn from Felix’s arms much to the disdain of both siblings. Azriel followed behind her with the baby, and then they were alone.

His mother’s whole body was heaving with the effort it took her to breath, and the three steps it took for her to stand in front felt like a mile and looked like it took every ounce of energy still in her.

Her face, so cold, crumpled as a sob wrecked through her. “My baby boy,” she cried as she crushed her arms around his neck, holding him so tight it was like she was trying to forge him to her.

He slumped in relief, hugging her back just as tightly. He didn’t care how old he was, he needed a hug from his mother.

“I was worried you wouldn’t ever move,” Felix laughed quietly.

“All hope I’d had was torn away from me. My lovely, tiny child, you’re home now. You’re home.” She kept muttering you’re hometo him, all the while his father staring at the two.

Felix looked away from her, staring down his father. Felix didn’t speak – waiting for him to. Felix felt like he had done enough talking today, enough explaining, and right now he just needed the support of the people who were always supposed to provide it.

“You’re here?” Cassian said.

“Yes,” Felix whispered in return.

“There are so many things that I wanted to say to you – needed to. Assurances, about how much I love you my son, and how essential you are to this family, essential to me, of how incredibly proud I am of you. I hated myself for not telling you more often, for letting you think that you were alone or that I didn’t love you more than anything else. You are one of the four greatest things ever brought into this world, and I feel honoured to be your father. Shocked, even, that I sired someone so fantastic. There are so many things I needed to say to you, but for the life of me I can barely think of anything.”

Felix’s eyes burned at the words – ones his father may have needed to say, and ones he may have needed to hear.

Cassian approached them, wrapping his arms around both Felix and Nesta, the three silently but very happily crying.

_____

“Rhys?”

“Yes, Feyre darling?”

“Would you really do it?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be by your side, and hers, when it has to be done.”

_____

“You came back from the dead and yet you still feel the need to bake us snacks?” Kaden was seated on the table, watching Felix as he prepared food for the family. He would help, but right now was also a thinking time for Felix, and Kaden trying to help would have just been a nuisance – not that Felix would ever say that.

Felix scoffed. “I can’t, nay, I refuseto have an official meeting unless there are at least three edible treats in the room.”

Kaden had caught his brother up on the things that had transpired since his death, an unusual concept indeed, and now Felix was stewing as he tried to understand everything that had happened. It had taken all night – even Nesta and Cassian had finally slept after the promises that Felix would stay in the house and be there when they awoke – and now that the sun had risen they were once again gathering to plan.

“Felix,” Kaden said quietly, “do you really think High Lord Rhysand will kill Eleana? I don’t think I could stop him if he tried. I don’t think anyone could.”

Felix finished scooping the cake mixture into its tin. He handed Kaden the spoon and mixing bowl, a little bit of raw batter left for Kaden to eat.

“I’ve thought this one over.” He placed the cake in the oven, moving onto his next project. “I do think he’d kill her.”

Kaden gaped at his fears being confirmed.

“But not like that.” Felix flicked him on the nose to change his expression. “I know Rhys, he’s like a second father to me, and when he says that he’ll kill her he means if there’s literally no other solution. If there’s no way to save her.”

“We have to think of a way.”

“Already have, your faith in me is so little nowadays. Anyway-”

“Not anyway, go back to the solution!”

“All in due time. As I was saying before you rudely interrupted, I think the reason Rhys would want it to be him is not because he wants her dead, not in any way shape or form, but because if she does have to go, which she won’t, it should be at the hands of someone she loves. It’s a scary thing, to be faced with death, but it’s easier if you have a loving figure at your side holding your hand, making you feel safe. I think Rhys wants to be that for her. Like how you were for me.”

“But we didn’t have a choice.”

“In a way Eleana doesn’t either. If you were where she was, and you had no control and were killing people by the thousands, what would you want?”

Kaden mulled over his words, his sombre mood at complete odds with the warm, welcoming scents of the kitchen.

He stayed with Felix while he baked, people coming in and out to see him as he whisked around the kitchen. His reunion with Mor was an especially teary one, and she clutched both Felix and Kaden to her as she wept tears of joy. It was a funny sight, the slight fae wedged between two massive Illyrians as she referred to them as boys – as Little Ones.

Quathryn came in too, still in her pyjamas and bleary eyed, and snuggled with Kaden while they watched Felix. It was good, as it meant they both got to be his taste testers for the morning.

When Amren entered the room to see her nephew, Kaden left.

It seemed their meetings had relocated from the House of Wind to the Nesta and Cassian’s home for the time being, and everyone gathered in the lounge room, chairs being pulled from bedrooms and studies to fit everyone.

The only people not seated were Cassian and Felix. The General had come to a realisation as he watched Felix holding Theodosia that Felix had never seen her swim – whatever the hell that meant.

So now the two near-identical males were sprawled on their stomachs in front of the baby, and as she lifted her arms and head off the floor Cassian went, “Swim swim swim swim swim swim swim,” and mimicked her movements, making her smile and lift her arms and legs up just like if she was swimming.

It was hands down one of the sweetest things Kaden had ever seen. Without thinking about it, he sent it to Eleana down the daemati bond she had so long ago established between them with a message that she just had to see this.

He was met with the same impenetrable wall he’d gotten every time he’d tried to contact her.

No one noticed when after that, Kaden got up and politely excused himself. He walked to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He all but glanced in the mirror before he was throwing up in the basin.

_____

Felix read over the court reports as the room watched him. He wasn’t studying the way they attacked or analysing battle patterns, no, he was pouring over any and every description of Eleana.

He hummed and ahhed to himself, finally handing the papers to Kaden.

“Just as I thought,” he told his family.

“Do you care to elaborate?” Kaden was still waiting on the solution Felix claimed to have to have.

“I think we’re right in assuming that no daemati will be able to overpower this queen, but I don’t think we need one. Eleana is definitely still in there, and I think we have a way of bringing her back while also destroying the thing inside her.”

“How can you be sure she’s still in there?” Nesta asked, hanging onto every word her son said. “I have all faith that there’s a way to bring her back, but I would like to hear what makes you believe, having not seen her yourself, that she’s still in there.”

“Because it wanted Eleana for her magic, correct? But Eleana’s magic isn’t connected to her body, it’s connected to her soul. It isher, a part of her so intrinsic you could no less cut it out then cut out her heart. She’s in there alright, she’s just not in control.”

“But what do we do? If you think no daemati can help, an opinion I’ve heard a lot lately, then what can we do for her?” Morrigan asked.

“The answer is simple, we need to separate Eleana’s soul from the queen, expel the creature from her body, and then kill it.”

“It’s a good idea, but there is nothing simple about it. Tearing two souls from one another… how could that possibly be done?”

“Magic, of course. A magic user whose innate ability has always been the manipulation of souls. Whether it be finding them, reading them…” Felix turned his head and peered at Kaden.

The whole room followed his gaze, and soon every person in it had their eyes glued to the blonde male. They all looked between him and Felix in confused, including Kaden himself. He was the one Felix was implying could save Eleana, and yet he had no idea what thought was actually running through his best friend’s mind.

“Felix… that’s not something I can do. Seeing the Other Side, tracking people, it’s not at all like what you’re suggesting. I can’t just – just move souls around.”

“Yes, you can. I know it for a fact.” Felix stood and walked over to his father who had Thea in his lap. Felix picked the baby out of his arms, kissing her on the nose and holding her gently against him. “I know you can do it, because it’s what you did for Theodosia. You saved my sister’s life, and now you’ll save Eleana’s.”

Feyre gasped, standing and making her way next to Felix, looking down at the sitting Kaden. Her feet, once dragging along the carpet, had a hopeful skip in them, and the way she loomed over Kaden with her hands in fists in front of her made him lean back as much as he could.

“You can do this,” she said.

“No, I can’t,” Kaden sputtered. “What I did for Thea is completely different-”

“No, it’s not! Don’t you see? You saw her soul leaving to the other side, and you put it back in her body. You brought her back to life. What was the prophecy that Elain had been spouting all day? Gold will meld the soul to the body, or something like that. And remember what she had spat at you in those gardens? You are a veilsinger, and if you can separate the soul then you can also put it back. Elain isn’t an all-knowing force, and the majority of the time she doesn’t even know what she’s saying means, but damn it Kaden can’t you see?”

“No, I can’t. You’re right, I did bring Thea back and it was the most amazing thing my magic has ever done, but that doesn’t mean I can just go around tearing souls from their bodies!”

“Remember what she said though! If you can separate the soul, you can put it back! This thing always wanted Eleana, and the only person who will ever be able to save her is a veilsinger. And you, Kaden, are the only living veilsinger.”

“That could just be referring to the fact that I am very much capable of inflicting death, and that’s the only way I’ve seen souls detached. I don’t see them when people are still alive.” Kaden stood, pleading with his friend, overwhelmed by what he was suggesting.

“But you do. Every time you use your magic, you track their souls. You seetheir souls.”

The two half-Illyrians stood facing each other, Kaden shaking with an emotion he couldn’t name and Felix breathing heavily.

At a stalemate, Felix stepped forward. Surprisingly, he put Thea into Kaden’s arms, patting both of their heads.

The room was silent, everyone processing what Felix had suggested in their own ways. High Lord Rhysand had come behind Feyre, his hands resting on her waist, a small smile on his face as he came to see the truth in his nephew’s words. Cassian and Nesta were holding hands, their pride for their clever son clear on both of them. Amren stood in the corner, surly as always, but looking at Kaden not with apprehension, but maybe with a little appreciation.  Not for who he was, but for what he might be able to do. Azriel was sitting in an armchair with his ankle crossed over his knee, drumming his fingers in thought while his shadows, lighter than they had been in days, swirled and smoked around him. And Mor was stepping back and forth nearly imperceptibly, wanting to approach the two but letting them come to their own conclusions.

While no one was paying attention, Quathryn was having cake by the fist full, shovelling it into her mouth without a care.

“This isn’t something I can practise,” Kaden said, breathless. “If I get it wrong, it could kill her.”

Felix shook his head. “You can’t kill Eleana, not even if you tried.”

“What you’re suggesting could work, Felix,” Rhysand said. “And you’re right, Kaden couldn’t hurt her.”

“And the best part?” Felix spoke to the room, but he looked at Kaden, a knowing glint in his eyes. “She’s still in there, meaning she can’t hurt you either. You are the only one of us who that is true for. You can get to her, and you can bring her back to us.”

Kaden looked at the baby in his arms. She was old enough now that she could lift her head and look back, and she gave him the loveliest little toothless smile. Her arms flailed a bit, and as she knocked her hands against his chest Kaden knew that Felix’s idea might be the one to rescue Prythian from the clutches of a power-hungry beast.

There was one issue though.

“As much as I want this to work, I still can’t get close to her. Her defences, mental and physical, could be enough that I can’t get anywhere near Eleana’s body or soul. How would I confront her?”

Felix smirked devilishly. “Oh, my dear friend.” He clapped and rubbed his hands together. “Have you told me, word by word, exactly what the queen has said to you, done to you etcetera?”

“Yes…”

“Then you don’t need to worry about not being able to get close to her. I know females pretty well, and that one wants a piece of your hot bastard ass.”  

Kaden rolled his eyes, and Cassian snorted so hard from the couch that he had to smother his subsequent laughs with his hands.

“Felix, you know I love your jokes but now isn’t the time for them-”

“He’s so right holy shit,” Cassian bellowed from the couch, slapping his knee and bending over as he snickered loudly.

He was still laughing when he got up and sauntered over to them, plucking Thea away from him and putting an arm around his shoulder. “Why else would this queen talk only to him? And we all know how suggestive she’s been.” Cassian smirked. “And now that she’s in the body of an Acheron woman? You’re basically irresistible.”

“What’s thatsupposed to mean?” Nesta balked.

“There’s something about all this,” Cassian pointed up and down Kaden’s body, “that makes you Archerons fall every Cauldron damned time.”

“That is not true,” Feyre scoffed.

“You don’t count, he’s your daughter’s – uh, thing. You haven’t known him outside the realm of Eleana. But Quathryn? He’s her best friend. Thea? I mean, just look at her.”

They all gathered curiously around the baby who was, quite bizarrely, staring at Kaden dreamily.

“Huh,” Feyre said.

“And Elain once told me that she thinks he’s one of the most attractive men she’s ever seen,” Cassian added.

“Bullshit,” Rhys said while smirking.

“I can confirm that one is true,” Azriel said quietly.

“And Nesta. Oh Mother, when she was pregnant? She-”

“Stop,” Nesta cut in, her mouth a thin line.

“And well we don’t need to talk about the effect he’s had on Eleana. If I did Rhys’ head might explode.”

“In summary, I’m a genius and this family could never function properly without me,” Felix finished. “Oh, and saving Eleana is entirely possible. All we need to do is find her.”  

“This could go terribly wrong,” Kaden told him.

“Things have already gone terribly wrong, may as well roll with it.”

#acotar #acomad #acowar #acohad #acofas #a court of hearts and darkness #feysand #nessian #elucien #moriel #fanfic

[misskikuwrites]

Fire Emblem Fates: Rebirth

Chapter 42: Too Little, Too Late

Also known as: A Burdened Heart

After dying at the hands of a possessed Takumi, Corrin wakes up before Hoshido and Nohr are at war.

Determined to undo all her regrets, Corrin sets out to save Ryoma and Takumi, unaware of their true, hidden enemy.

Spoilers for all routes.

Nothing made sense. The burning in his throat. Behind his eyes. The chaos of thoughts swirling around and around in his mind, a thick haze engulfing and choking any thoughts of reason. Takumi’s heart thundered like a drum in his chest, in his ears. A torrent of anger, confusion, betrayal, rose in his throat. It clamped down tight.

He stormed through the inn, questions, confusion, anger, rushing through his veins. Takumi crashed open the door to the room Ryoma and he were to share, words tearing from his mouth before he even knew if Ryoma was awake.

“Did you know?!” The words were like coarse sandpaper in his throat. Pain spilled from his lips in his voice, uncontrollable, distraught. He drew a sharp breath, realising he’d been holding his breath tight in his lungs.

Ryoma sat up, wiping the sleep from his eyes with a frown. The rebuke forming on his tongue died as he took in the state Takumi was in; hands clenched, lungs heaving, eyes wide and almost frenzied.

“Did I know about what?” Ryoma stifled a yawn, blinking against the heavy pull of his eyelids to close. Seeing Takumi beside himself was enough to wake him up in an instant.

“Did you know about Corrin?” Takumi repeated, quieter this time. His tone was one of disbelief, of confusion. “About… about what she did?” He didn’t meet Ryoma’s eyes. He couldn’t. He could hardly articulate himself against the desire to scream. To cry. To rid himself of the pain, the emotions, whirling and burning inside.

“She told you?”

The calm timbre of Ryoma’s voice washed over Takumi as if he’d been doused with cold water. Numbing. It sucked the air from Takumi’s lungs.

“You knew?” His fists shook. His vision blurred, the room distorting into a mess of colour. A violent surge of anger erupted inside him, bile rising in his throat thick and blistering. He choked on his words. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Ryoma rose to his feet and stepped close enough to lower his voice in concern. “Calm down for a moment, Takumi. Why don’t you sit down?”

Takumi pulled away as Ryoma reached out for him, yanking himself back as if the very thought of Ryoma’s touch seared him. “No–! Just answer me! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wasn’t for me to say.”

Ryoma’s composure was jarring. As if he were detached, unmoved, unconcerned with Takumi’s distress, as if he’d expected this reaction long ago. It was like looking into another world. Another place Takumi couldn’t reach, one where everything made sense, where this muddle of emotions and thoughts were no longer disjointed and frazzled.

“She betrayed us–! You should have said something! How–? How could she do that?” His questions fell out, one after another, in an incoherent mess. “I don’t understand!” Tears flashed in his eyes, prickling, stinging. He swiped them away only for more to take their place. His sharp breaths became sobs.

“She returned to the only life she’d ever known.” Ryoma’s words felt like an echo. Foreign. Impassive. They felt out of place, full of reason, of understanding, compared to the blur in Takumi’s mind. “To have to make such a choice, it wasn’t easy. She came out of it with scars.”

“How can you condone what she did?” It was sickening to hear Ryoma, to hear himself. As if a hand had clamped down on his throat, he wished to claw it away, to tear it away. To tear his throat out so he could breathe. “She destroyed Hoshido! Our home. Our people. Everything.”  

How could she still smile at us after what she did?

“I’m not condoning her actions, Takumi.” There was clarity to Ryoma’s voice, his words. A faint candle of understanding in a storm of confusion, but Takumi couldn’t see that faint light through his tears. “I understand what Corrin did was wrong, but so does she. She carries tremendous regret. Why do you think she chose us this time?”

“That doesn’t absolve her!” It became so easy to let his anger speak. “All those Hoshidans… all of us…”

“That’s why she’s trying so hard to fix everything. To save whoever she can even if it means sacrificing herself.”

How could Ryoma still have a voice of reason, still be so calm, knowing what he did? How could he still follow Corrin, still smile with her, after everything?

“You’ve seen her in battle. How she has no sense of self-preservation.”

Ryoma’s words conjured up memories of Corrin rushing into battle. Tearing past wolfskin without a second thought, her gaze far, far ahead. Fighting those veiled soldiers as if exhaustion had no meaning to her. Heading off places alone, a fire of determination in her eyes that only left him in awe of her strength and worried over her sanity.

“Corrin is willing to give her life for this. For us.”

He’d seen her time and time again acting on instinct, doing things for reasons he couldn’t work out. Had she even thought before slicing through her hair to free herself from the grips of a faceless? What made her face Keaton alone against an army of wolfskin, somehow able to convince them to stop fighting? Had she known, all along, that it would work?

“And she already has once.”

A cold sliver of realisation shot down Takumi’s spine. Finally, slowly, he met Ryoma’s eyes, blinking away his tears. They slid down his cheeks as Ryoma’s words sank in.

“What… do you mean?” The numbness that overtook him was different now. Colder. Harsher. It ebbed through his entire body, sinking like lead into his stomach.

“How do you think she’s here now, in this life?” There was pain in Ryoma’s eyes. Heavy pain, like a thick cloud drifting over his eyes. “Surely you’ve seen the scar on her chest. What it looks like.”

Takumi saw it now. Jagged bolts of thick white scar tissue blooming over her heart. He’d known upon seeing it that it must’ve come from a horrific injury, to leave a scar that large. He just hadn’t known the full extent of what it meant.

“Choosing to return to Nohr resulted in the death of those she loved. Both you, and I, were casualties.”

Takumi couldn’t speak. Pieces were coming together, fitting into place, creating an answer he hadn’t seen before. One he hadn’t been ready for. This was what Corrin had been trying to tell him. What he’d refused to listen to.

“The war should have ended with the death of King Garon, but there was one final foe she had to face. One that she couldn’t bring herself to fight.”

Takumi knew what was coming before Ryoma spoke again. He’d known what the scar on Corrin’s chest mirrored. He’d seen it, again and again, when the arrow from his Fujin Yumi sank into his foes.

“It was you.”

“No–” Takumi’s protest broke off into a sob. He saw her in a dream. Standing in front of him, her Yato glowing darkly. He’d never understood why she was crying, why the Nohrians behind her were so shocked to see him, their weapons drawn.

He hadn’t understood what he was saying. Why he levelled his Fujin Yumi at her chest. Why she cried as she held him, her sword deep in his gut.

It had only been a dream, but it came back to him in full force now. So vivid it could’ve passed as a memory. Her tears warm as they fell onto his cheeks. He felt so cold.

“You were possessed. Completely taken over. The only thing tying you to this world was your desire for vengeance.” Ryoma kept speaking, his voice as calm as ever, as images flooded Takumi’s mind.

Her hair was longer. It spilled in silver waves over her shoulders, her armour dark and scarred. He could see the rings of colour in her crimson eyes as they overflowed with tears. Her lips contorted as she struggled to hold back her sobs. He was saying something. Faint words, barely a croak of sound.

She kept whispering that she was sorry.

“Seeing you like that, broken, calling for her life, it must’ve been the final straw for her.”

Another memory, different this time. She approached him, arms outstretched, her Yato raised. Her eyes were hollow. Empty, save for the tears cascading down her cheeks.

Her voice echoed in his ears.

“If you’re going to aim that thing at anyone, aim it at me! I’m the one you want!”  

“She couldn’t bring herself to kill you.” Ryoma’s voice washed over that vision, that memory that didn’t belong to him.

“Oh, Gods–” Everything crashed inside him all at once. “Corrin…” It hurt to breathe. His legs buckled, the world swaying beneath him. He couldn’t think. Ryoma was all he could hear over the hammering of his heart.  “I… I didn’t know it was like that… that I killed her…” A sob, a gasp of painful regret, burst in his lungs. “Everything she went through… and I… I… What have I done?”

Tears clouded his vision. His lungs felt shallow, every breath shorter, sharper than before. The words he’d said came rushing back with a vengeance. They echoed in his ears, a distressing reminder of how callous he’d been. How he hadn’t listened to her as she poured her heart out to him.

She’d given him her trust, her heart, and he’d shattered it into pieces.

“How… how do you know all this? That I…?” Takumi couldn’t bring himself to say it again. His eyes burned as he squeezed them tightly closed, desperate to cut off the images in his mind. “She told you…?”

“Yes. I’ve spoken to her retainers at length as well, but even still I don’t know the extent of what she went through.”

Takumi’s heart felt hollow now. Empty. Cold. The shock, the realisation of what he’d just heard, bled through his skin, his veins, like frigid ice. “Who else knows? Hinoka? Sakura?”

Was he the only one left in the dark?

“No.” Ryoma’s voice came as another bead of clarity in this haze of confusion surrounding Takumi. His lungs drew a deep breath of air, the tightness of his chest relaxing and allowing him to breathe. He began to calm. To breathe. “As far as I’m aware, she’s only told a few people. Her retainers, obviously. Kaden and Keaton as well; I believe the reason why we avoided bloodshed with the wolfskin was because Corrin explained herself to them.”

So many things that Takumi had shrugged off, that he’d noticed and worried about, began to make sense. Everything was falling into place. Questions that had filled his mind were being answered.

“Azura knows.”

That made sense, too, why Corrin had asked Azura to join her when they warped to the Bottomless Canyon. Why they seemed suddenly closer when they returned.

“Saizo, Kagero, Silas and I were told that day in the Astral Castle.” Ryoma gave Takumi an understanding nod, and Takumi sighed. His fists unclenched and hung loose by his side. He’d seen them all come out of Corrin’s treehouse together and his mind had jumped to conclusions. Now, it seemed so obvious, his doubts so ridiculous.

“Nyx and Prince Leo know as well.”

Of course Prince Leo knew before he did, Takumi’s mind spat. He swallowed that thought the second it surfaced and quashed it. He didn’t deserve to feel like that with the way he’d reacted.

“She had reasons for telling each of us, even if the circumstances were less than desirable,” Ryoma said. “It’s not something she took lightly.”

“She trusted me and… and I…” The devastation on her face flashed in his mind. The hurt he’d inflicted.  

“The Corrin you and I know hasn’t suddenly changed since you’ve found out. It’s still her.” The calm tone of Ryoma’s voice was finally soothing. It was grounding. A warm touch on his arm brought Takumi back to reality. Despite everything, Ryoma gave him an understanding smile. “There’s still time for you to talk to her and listen. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

Takumi deflated. “I… truly hope so.”  

Takumi shoved down the trepidation churning in his gut as he made his way to the front of the inn once more. His heart beat faster and faster with each step he took. Despite Ryoma’s insistence that Corrin would understand, Takumi kept replaying the conversation he had with Corrin in his head. Everything he said, every biting word, and it became harder and harder to walk. As if his feet were filling up with lead.

Takumi swung the front door open, holding his breath tightly in his chest. The cool air embraced him as he took in the darkness, the trees, the dirt. For a moment, he stood there in the silence, and sighed. Corrin was gone.

He was a fool to have expected her to be here. As if she would be waiting for him. As if. He’d torn her heart to shreds. He’d trampled on her trust and spat venom at her in return. He knew what he’d done. Knew all of that and his heart sunk all the same. At this point, there was no chance that they could go back to what they had before, whatever that was. All he could do is ask that she not cast him aside. Forgiveness wasn’t something he deserved, but a second chance? He would plead for that with his life.

All he wanted now was to have the chance to fight beside her again.

Takumi drew one final breath, long and deep, letting the cold air settle in his lungs, before he turned. The shimmer of silver armour caught his eyes. The sight of Corrin heading around the side of the inn was so sudden it didn’t seem strange that she was in full armour, her Yato on her hip, that he almost broke into a run. His feet pulled him forward, moving on their own, before he froze. Anthony walked out beside her. He was saying something too faint for Takumi to hear. Corrin nodded, patted the hilt of her blade, and followed Anthony.

Takumi almost brushed it off as nothing. For a second, a long, painful second, he willed himself to forget, to go back into the inn and sleep. Something uneasy swirled in his stomach. Words Ryoma said resounded again in his mind.  

“Corrin is willing to give her life for this. For us.”

And again.

“You’ve seen her in battle. How she has no sense of self-preservation.”

Takumi clenched his jaw and stole back to the inn with purpose. Corrin might be willing to sacrifice herself, to fight on her own, but that didn’t mean Takumi had to let her. His instincts were screaming at him to act and he followed them. He dove after them, let them fuel his movements, his desire, his purpose. He was halfway thought donning his armour before he noticed Oboro and Hinata staring at him.

“Lord Takumi? Are we under attack?” Oboro asked, picking up a naginata as if to ready herself to fight. He hadn’t even realised they’d seen and followed him to the armoury.

“No, but Corrin might be.” He still didn’t know the exact identity of this unease building inside him. Was it concern for her safety? Plain old jealousy? It was stronger than anything he’d felt before and so he believed it. He grabbed his Fujin Yumi, strapping it to his back.

“What do you mean ‘Corrin might be?’” Hinata asked. He scrambled for a katana before glancing at Oboro and meeting her eyes. They were hardly dressed for a fight, still in their yukatas. “What’s going on?”

“I– I don’t know.” It was like he hit a wall for a moment. Everything stopped. He paused, took in the wide eyes of his retainers, and took a breath. The unease remained. “I think Corrin’s in danger.”

“Then we should alert everyone!” Oboro said. She pulled up her hair, collecting the pieces of her armour in a hurry. Hinata did the same.

“That’ll take too long,” Takumi huffed. “I need to go after her.” His heartbeat spiked at the urgency in his voice and he tore out of the inn, his retainers scrambling to keep up.

It was only by the light of Anthony’s lantern that Takumi found them. That pinprick of light against the veil of night was all he could see until he drew close, until he reached the outskirts of the ruins they’d stopped in. He crouched behind a crumbled wall, Oboro and Hinata slinking beside him.

“What’re they doing?” Hinata asked in a low whisper.

“Shh!” Oboro hissed, swatting at Hinata’s arm. Hinata rubbed at his arm in mute pain.

Nothing of Anthony’s and Corrin’s conversation reached them. Takumi’s heart thundered in his chest as the seconds drew on and nothing happened. What if he had been wrong? Was the unease fuelling his instincts nothing but cruel jealousy? His body refused to move. His feet anchored him in place, his trepidation building.

Anthony lunged at Corrin, his steel striking air as she leapt from its path. Takumi jolted, snapping alert, to his feet, as magic crackled around them. One second they were alone in the silence of the night, the next Vallite soldiers surrounded them, pouring from the ruins. A mass of soldiers stood between them and Corrin. And she wasn’t fighting.

Corrin just stood there. Her shoulders slumped, sword hand lose, the rip of her Yato trailing on the ground. Takumi gritted his teeth and took out a soldier with a single, blinding arrow.

“What is she doing?!” Takumi barked, his heart leaping into his throat. “Dammit! We need to get to her!”

Takumi rushed out from behind the crumbled wall, firing arrow after arrow into the mass of soldiers. Some acknowledged their presence and turned from Corrin to face them, but their numbers were few. Takumi couldn’t stop to think. To breathe. He had no time to position himself, to take in the battlefield before him and calculate each shot. It was pure instinct. A rush of adrenaline, blood pounding in his ears, desperation surging with every beat.

“We’ve got your back!” Hinata cried, parrying and blocking any soldier who got too close.

“Go!” Oboro chimed. In the same breath she twirled her naginata expertly and sliced through a soldier’s gut. Takumi didn’t have a breath of thanks to spare but he drove onward. Through the battle, he caught sight of Corrin, a flash of steel, a dragon claw. She was fighting back.

And he was so close – he shot down two soldiers approaching Corrin from behind in quick succession, ducking beneath a blade and rushing onward still. His muscles burned. His lungs burned, but he could push that aside, he could bare it all if he could just get to her in time.

Hinata and Oboro were close behind. Always there when he needed them to block, to take the attention of a soldier or mage off his back. But there were only two of them. They weren’t an army. A Vallite charged Takumi and ended up with a blazing arrow in his neck, erupting into a cloud of dark ash. It stole his attention for a second.

That single second was all it took for a Vallite solider to bury a wyvernslayer in Corrin’s shoulder.  It tore away with a messy spray of blood, pulling her off her feet. She staggered and Takumi’s breath caught violently in his throat. His arrow was notched as the soldier cut the wyvernslayer across Corrin’s gut. The arrow shot through the soldier’s head as Corrin fell. She vanished from Takumi’s sight behind the soldiers. He saw red.

He barely recognised the burning in his throat was him screaming her name. He forgot everything else but her. He tore past soldiers, over broken pillars and walls, stumbling, tripping, screaming. A sword caught his arm, he didn’t feel pain, only the force of it tearing his skin. Arrow after arrow he fired, punctuated with his cries. Guttural cries that heaved his chest and left him gasping for air.

He had to get to her.

He wasn’t prepared for the sight of her lying there, after the soldiers blocking her faded into ash and he collapsed to his knees at her side. The pools of blood from her wounds joined in a sea of red. They coated her armour, her hair, the ground, staining the blade of her Yato.

“Corrin–” he choked, before a scream tore through the air. Anthony clutched at his head crying, pleading, his eyes wide and livid. A burst of light enveloped him, his scream distorting into something deeper, something no longer human. Takumi took one look at the Faceless that had once been Anthony and levelled an arrow to its head.

“Lord Takumi, there’s too many of them!” Oboro rushed over, a horrified gasp leaving her when she saw Corrin. “Oh, Gods.”

Takumi hefted Corrin up in his arms, swallowing a sob, forcing it down through the tightness in his throat. She fell limp against him. Limp and warm, her blood soaking through his armour. The scent of it, raw and burning, filled his nose.

“We need to go.” His voice sounded foreign to his ears. Broken. Pained. The words nothing but a fragmented rasp. He managed to get to his feet, only realising Corrin’s Yato still lay on the ground, covered in her blood. “The Yato–”

“–I’ve got it!” Hinata snatched it from the ground and it was all Takumi needed to run.

Takumi focused on nothing else but the weight of Corrin in his arms and the inn he knew was minutes away. He pulled her closer to him, closer still. She was like a dead weight in his arms. There was no life in her at all, her blood constantly draining from her wounds, coating his hands. Her life was ebbing away with every passing second.

“Don’t you die on me, Corrin!” Takumi sobbed, choking on the words. “Please!” The thundering of his heart drowned out the sounds of battle, the cries of his retainers and the clashing of steel. The rush of his blood blurred everything else.

Takumi didn’t stop running, didn’t stop pleading to Corrin to hang on, as they reached the inn and crashed through the front doors. Hinata and Oboro barred the flimsy door with the remains of tables and chairs strewn about the lobby but Takumi didn’t stop. His legs burned, his muscles screamed, but he didn’t stop.

“We need a healer!” He cried, and cried and cried, calling for Sakura, for Princess Elise, for Jakob, Azama, anyone who could help. Anyone at all. Doors threw open, people stumbling out in disarray, as Takumi reached the infirmary. Then Sakura was beside him. And Elise. And many other people. A roar of voices washing together, mixing, muddling into a mess of sound. Questions he couldn’t answer. And then–

“We’re under attack!”

There was no time to rest. No time to breathe. Takumi stole one final glance at Corrin lying there on the infirmary bed. Her face was pale. Eyes shut. Blood caked on the side of her face and all across her armour. He took that moment to remind himself of what he was fighting for. Who he was fighting for. He burned it into his mind and stood, reading his Fujin Yumi for a fight.

It was chaos. Battles raged throughout the inn, the Vallite soldiers Anthony had summoned pouring in through doors, windows, the broken walls. The inn that had been their safe haven was now a death trap. Takumi had taken not two steps from the infirmary and met soldiers in the hallway. He cut them down quickly but with their army scattered, there was only so much they could do. For now, they had to defend themselves as best as they could.

The front doors of the inn became a bottleneck. Takumi joined Prince Leo, Ryoma and their respective retainers in the lobby, picking off the soldiers as they crammed through the doors. In the disorder, Takumi lost sight of Hinata and Oboro, and had no time to spare a thought to their wellbeing. In between sparks of magic from Prince Leo and bolts of lightning from Ryoma, Takumi levelled arrow after arrow without pause. Despite the hoard of soldiers at the front of the inn, cries for aid sounded in each corner. The air tasted bitter with magic and blood.

“There’s no end to them!” Leo cursed.

“It’ll be worse if they break in through here.” Ryoma cut down a soldier who darted past the rest with a swift strike of his Raijinto.

“Then I’ll just cut them off!” Leo huffed and with a rush of magic trees sprouted in the middle of the doorway. They erupted with force, throwing the invading soldiers off their feet as the trees grew into the doorway, completely sealing it off.

A crash sounded deeper in the inn followed by a sharp cry. They bolted after it without a thought to find Vallite soldiers pouring in through the open-air hot springs. Camilla fought them off at the entrance, swinging wild arcs with her axe.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Camilla taunted as she toppled three soldiers with a single swing of her axe.

“We can’t let them get in,” Azura said. She gripped her naginata closer, readying for the moment a Vallite soldier got too close; the chance of that was slim with Camilla cutting down every soldier in sight.

“Then we’ll just have to push them out!” Camilla grinned and with heavy, forceful blows of her axe, she drove the soldiers back through the hot springs. With Leo and Takumi backing her up, they edged further and further out until the night sky opened up above them.

A blast of magic stole what little breathing room they had. Fire licked dangerously close, cinders flickering in the air like flower petals in the wind. As the flames settled, a woman stepped forward, pulling back her dark hood to reveal short cropped blue hair and striking golden eyes.

A gasp stole from Azura. “Mother–?!” Her voice broke into a sob. Takumi shot a glance between Azura and the cloaked woman, her form flickering in and out of sight. “This can’t be possible! You’re–!”

The woman smiled. Her thin lips pulled into a sardonic grin. “I am Arete. Faithful servant to the great ruler of this land, the mighty King Anankos.” She may as well have ended with a flourish and a bow with how she said it. Azura staggered back a step, her knuckles turning white around her naginata.

“No... A servant…?” Her voice was barely a whisper, barely able to voice her pain, her shock.

“What kind of vile magic is this?” Leo balked. “I know you said that Anankos could turn the dead to his will, but this...”

“Azura?” Ryoma called, breaking her out of her momentary shock.

Azura bit her bottom lip and took a quick, deep breath to compose herself. She blinked and any fear, any confusion in her eyes had vanished. “I’m fine. This thing is not my mother. It’s nothing more than a puppet.”

It wasn’t as simple as that but at the moment it was what Azura needed to say. What she needed to believe.

“Fine.” Queen Arete flicked through the pages of her tome as if it were merely a simple book. “I knew you wouldn’t listen. That’s why I’ve brought a friend of yours.”

The throng of soldiers behind Arete parted as a single soldier stepped forward clad in crimson armour. Takumi froze at the sight, an image of her dead on the ground, chest scorched and split open, still vivid in his mind.

“Scarlet–?!” Ryoma chocked on her name, his sword arm wavering. “It can’t be…”

“She was dead!” Leo shook his head as if his vision would clear, as if this cruel image would fade from such an action alone. “We saw her–” He cut a quick glance to Takumi, who nodded stiffly.

“Bringing back the dead just to mess with us,” Camilla said. She masked her shock with a sharp glare. “How cruel.” She brandished her axe, heaving it in front of her with a biting smile. “Let’s see how far that gets you, shall we?”

They had no choice. Ryoma steeled himself, retaking his stance, his Raijinto held high. “Forgive me, Scarlet. At the very least, I will give you peace...”

Just seeing the distress on both Ryoma and Azura’s faces was enough to affect those who hadn’t even known Scarlet or Queen Arete. To fight them now, after everything, was beyond cruel. Azura retained a mask of calm as the fight continued, but Takumi couldn’t fathom what was going on in her head. Or Ryoma’s. The pain, the shock, that had flashed on Ryoma’s face had drove a knife into Takumi’s heart.

He’d barely known Scarlet. Even after she’d died he hadn’t spared her many thoughts and now? Now he didn’t know what to think. He saw her corpse when he blinked, when a flash of crimson armour caught his eyes.

He couldn’t even begin to imagine how they felt. How Corrin felt when fighting their Mother.

Corrin.    

His mind kept finding its way back to her, even in the midst of battle. He barely had time to aim, let alone breathe in this close-quarters fight, yet his mind drifted. His heart ached greater than his muscles burned. He could only hope she was safe. That Sakura and Princess Elise and the others were safe.

The dead, it seemed, were no match for the living. Ryoma cut through Scarlet with a final strike, her eyes widening with a silent gasp, his Raijinto buried deep. She didn’t speak. Didn’t cry out. She was only a hollow puppet wearing the visage of an ally, a friend. Her body began to fade into beads of white, shimmering light.

And then– she did speak. Softer than a whisper. Not even a breath of sound, so quiet that only Ryoma heard.

“Thank you…”

Scarlet was gone and Arete was fading. She lay on her back, chest fluttering with gasps for air, as her form flickered faintly. The hot springs were silent once more. The sounds of battle had faded into the depths of night.

Azura held back, standing close but not daring to approach her mother’s side.

“Azura…”

If Azura hadn’t been looking at her mother’s face she may have convinced herself that it hadn’t been real but seeing her mother’s lips move with the sound of her name…

“Did she… just say my name?” A faint bead of hope, painful, painful hope, bloomed inside her.

Queen Arete reached out, her hand trembling as she spoke. “Come closer, Azura...”

“M-Mother?” It sounded too good to be true. “It can't be. You remember me?”

Arete’s eyelids fluttered, struggling to remain open. She spoke in a hoarse croak, a desperate rasp. “Soon... soon...my body and soul will disappear... I'll be... forever released from... Anankos' control...” Her faint breaths were nothing but painful gasps. “My dear… Azura…”

Azura stole forward. “Is that really you, Mother?” Her heart ached for it to be true. For this not to be another cruel, cruel lie.

“Azura, wait!” Ryoma called her back, voice laced with caution. “This could be another trap!”

It was enough to give Azura pause. She longed to reach her mother’s side, to hold her hand, to hold her close, but she stilled.

“It... It might not be. What do I do?” Hot tears burned behind her eyes as she blinked. It would only take a single step and Azura would be there – but she held back in fear, in doubt.  An agonizing gasp ripped from Arete and drowned Azura’s doubt; she dropped to her knees by her mother’s side, grasping her hand.

“Mother...!” The tears she’d held back for so long spilled forth. They trickled down her cheeks, her lips trembling, struggling to bite down a sob.

Arete’s eyes filled with such warmth, such love, even as she faded. “Azura... You've grown so much…”

“You remember me…” Azura gasped, choking on her words. The joy of having her mother here stole her breath. “I've missed you so much...”

It didn’t matter that they had an audience. That the air tasted thick with blood and magic. It was their moment. A moment long, long overdue, and it was theirs alone.

“I'm sorry for leaving you…” Arete fumbled to take Azura’s hand, grasping tightly, her fingers cold. “You've been suffering alone for so long.”

Azura shook her head, giving her mother a soft smile. “No, I was never alone. I've had the royal children from Nohr and Hoshido by my side. And others have joined to help me, too.”

There was so much that she wanted to say.

Arete smiled, a serene expression filling her face as she leant back. Her eyes closed. “That's wonderful... I only wish… I had more time... I can feel myself slipping away...”

A wave of light bloomed from within Arete’s body as she began to fade. Her hand in Azura’s became transluscent; Azura gripped it tightly, clinging to her mother, choking on a sob.

“Mother!” Beads of light filtered from Arete’s body, floating, pulling away into the air. “You can't! I just got you back. Don't go, please!” She pleaded to her mother, to the Gods, to fate itself. “Why…?”

“Azura... I'm so proud of you.” Arete’s voice was fading too. “Thank you for being my little girl... I'm glad I got to see you one last time.” A sigh, a final, sharp intake of air. “I love you so much, Azura.”

Arete’s body faded slowly, then all at once, leaving Azura grasping at air. “Mother?” she cried, snatching at the hand that had once been in hers, to find it gone, to find nothing but air. “Mother–!”

Azura’s hand fell limp in her lap. Empty. She couldn’t remember the feel of her mother’s hand anymore.

The inn was a wreck. It had been dilapidated before but it was no longer the restful haven now they’d been attacked here. The air of safety, of comfort, had turned rotten. It held the stain of smoke and blood, of magic and rust. Doors were torn from hinges. Bloodied swords and arrows strewn across floors and hallways. With the infirmary packed to burst, Corrin was moved to a separate room for more intensive care.

The royals gathered outside the room where Corrin was being treated sans Sakura and Elise, as they tended to her inside. When Jakob exited the room, the atmosphere crackled alight with tension. Takumi wanted to vomit. His throat clamped down tight, his heart pounding in his ears and drowning out any thoughts. He couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

“How is she?” Xander asked. The infinitesimal tremor in his voice betrayed his stoic visage of calm.

“Stable, for the moment,” Jakob answered curtly. He clasped his hands together behind his back, as professional as ever. No one could see his knuckles burning white, his nails digging into his palms.

“Is it that bad?” Hinoka asked. She shifted on her feet, pressed her lips hard together. She would’ve been by Corrin’s side if they’d let her, as would Camilla. They both longed to charge in there, to see Corrin for themselves. It was only Sakura and Elise pleading with them that made them stay.

“I… We will only find out the extent of the damage once she’s awake.” As calm as his voice was, Jakob tripped over his words.

“Gods.” Hinoka whispered under her breath, but in the volatile silence everyone heard.

“What do you mean?” Leo questioned. “Why can’t you tell us now?” He snapped his questions, the tension in the air, the ambiguous statement Jakob gave, fuelling his unease. Jakob looked away, his gaze falling to the floor.

“The injury to her shoulder… it’s deep. She might not lose any mobility to her arm, or all of it. We can’t tell for sure.”

Takumi couldn’t listen to this any longer. He stole away as Ryoma asked another question, blocking it out. He didn’t want to hear it. Any of it. His heart rose higher and higher into his throat, choking, tightening. Acrid bile thick in his throat.

He didn’t want to hear, didn’t want to feel. In the darkness of a room, his retainers found him. Their touch was warm, their attempts to soothe him aimless. He broke into sobs. Hoarse, broken sobs that burned and tore his throat. His knees hit the floor when he collapsed, the pain numbing. His arm throbbed, he barely registered the wound anymore.

He barely felt anything anymore.

#fire emblem #fire emblem fates #takukamu #takurrin #takumi #corrin #rebirth #misskikuwrites #THIS WAS A NIGHTMARE TO WRITE I HOPE YOU LIKE ANGST #why do i do this to myself #it hurts #im sorry #not sorry

[mirika]

Now it's my turn mwehehehe: Laslow, Niles, Camilla, Sakura and Leo?

The only downside to some of these is that you had already told me so much about them, that I could not create a true first impression.

This took ages.

First impression:

Laslow: I did not notice his existence at all in Birthright to be fair. I might have even killed him off while he is one of the four deaths that you can spare (sometimes this haunts me). When I started playing Conquest, I had the words of my former classmate in my head (”you’re going to like Laslow probably” and me thinking “you don’t know my taste in men!” and well here we are), so my first impression got blended in with a feeling of “well I do seem to be rather fond of this one” but it was merely attachment at that point.

Niles: I already knew he was a pervert cause of you, and honestly that was something that just ended up being confirmed. I couldn’t shape my own first impression.

Camilla: I’m going to have to dig in my memory, but I had not much of an opinion of her other than “okay she is behaving a little creepy towards Corrin” and it doesn’t help I played male Corrin most of the time.

Sakura: I was annoyed with her stuttering because I thought Fire Emblem pulled a “shy girl that stutters” anime trope. I know better now, but that was my first impression.

Leo: Of him too I could not form a true first impression, sadly.

Impression now:

Laslow: In the end my former classmate was right and I ended up liking the guy. Uh. A little too much, perhaps. I will always wonder how my former classmate knew as he is nothing like the other fictional character he knows I’m into. Xander may give him a lot of shit for flirting, but knowing his background as to why he flirts so much with other women, and especially with his attitude of “you never know when you see someone for the last time,” he’s simply a precious human being trying to get to know his fellow people. Over a cup of tea, if possible.

Niles: He’s still a perv, but he’s also hilarious. Not an Odin-kind of hilarious, but hilarious nonetheless. Also, he does the random meow thing like me, so I send love to this guy. Not too much love though, don’t want to give him wrong ideas.

Camilla: Strong fierce woman, do not mess with her! I still find her a bit creepy when you play male Corrin though. I don’t feel like they translated that very well. I am rather fond of her though.

Sakura: Protect her! PROTECT HER! I became rather fond of Sakura. She’s adorable.

Leo: Well… he’s… he’s a grumpy book nerd, what can I say? I did not name him Ugh Boy for nothing. I actually don’t have a strong impression of Leo, I feel like he fell a bit into the background for me.

Favourite moment:

Laslow: Gee. A favourite moment. It’s a bit rough with non-royals as light isn’t shone upon them as much (is shone proper English?). I mean, obviously I like any interaction of his with Corrin, especially when he gets serious for a moment, but uh… I cannot think of any moment other than specific supports, like the support between Laslow and Mozu.

Niles: Remember when Niles said meow? Good times. No, I actually really enjoyed the Felicia and Niles support (mostly C and B when Niles is messing around). I just love Felicia’s obliviousness towards Niles’ innuendos.

Camilla: Her fight over Corrin with Jakob, whenever Camilla threatens others showing that you can’t mess with her, her support with Elise where she tells Elise need not be like her.

Sakura: I can currently only think of her support with Kaden and Elise.

Leo: Honestly his cut scene is pretty darn cool.

Idea for a story:

Laslow: Honestly, I’m going to fall back on a headcanon post I once made. Laslow being drunk allowing Odin to mess with him as payback from the times Laslow has been reading Odin’s book as I believe Laslow would be the kind of guy to spill the beans on whatever when he’s drunk.

Niles: Niles and his daughter Nina being thieving outlaws, but for the greater good like Robin Hood, helping the poor and all that.

Camilla: I would love to see a story in which Camilla would have to be in a more realistic medieval situation where she has to be ladylike in a clean and virtuous way, especially as a royal, even though we all know that’s not who she is. Of course this story would lead to her desire to protect her family as a warrior of sorts.

Sakura: A story in (short) movie format of Elise and her having a tea party with stuffed animals would be adorable even though they are likely to be too old for that. Let the princesses be their younger selves.

Leo: Can we have a story in which Leo falls hopelessly in love with a book character? A quest to somehow turn this fictional character into something real. I’m sure Odin’s got some supportive ideas.

Unpopular opinion:

Laslow: Oh boy. Well, I hate Xanlow and I dislike Peri and Laslow as well, but these appear to be two of the biggest ships. I actually like Elise and Laslow, I feel that this isn’t very popular, but maybe that’s because of Elise’s age; I headcanon their relationship as innocent and pure so I guess it’s just the point of view I have. Also, I hate the very idea of Laslow in female dancer clothes because I hate how Laslow is always turned into ‘the feminine one’ in whatever gay ship they like to imagine as if gay relationships consist of ‘the masculine one’ and ‘the feminine one’, just let the characters be who they are without ‘straightening’ gay relationships. Sorry, we hit the pet peeve area as that is something that bothers me in general.

Niles: I do not think there are any unpopular opinions to be created about Niles. I think everyone loves Niles. I do am pooped he’s the only character you can have a gay relationship with, but I think everyone agrees with that.

Camilla: I don’t mind her oversexualized clothing like you said in your answer too, especially because her gear is still convincing of that it is heavy armour that is capable of protecting her. Besides, boobs are a weapon too. Do not underestimate medieval times and the ability to distract men with boobs in combat. Do not underestimate boobs. In all honesty though, I really do not mind armour showing skin so long it still looks like the armour is protecting them. That’s character design for ya. Of course it’s a typical anime trope and therefore many dislike it, but it works for Camilla.

Sakura: I do not know the opinions about Sakura cause the only person I follow reblogs Nohrians and not so much Birthright (looking at you evangeline). I cannot imagine anything I could disagree with.

Leo: The Leo and Takumi ship is something I don’t really understand, but then again, I am not far enough into Revelations yet.

Favourite relationship:

Laslow: Corrin, but only my Corrin. This one’s rough. I paired him with with Elise and Azura as I liked these combinations when I play the male avatar, but I haven’t tried all things out yet (but reading into Laslow and Effie I like that Effie allows him to still chat up with women so that gets my stamp of approval as well).

Niles: I have a sincere adoration towards Niles and Felicia, I can’t help it.

Camilla: I like that putting her and Jakob together is basically a contest as to who loves Corrin more.

Sakura: Kaden!!! Sakura and Kaden are terribly adorable together! They take naps together and stuff. 

Leo: I like to pair up Leo with Azura, because you forget that Leo’s a grumpy kid as he seems to enjoy Azura’s singing so much.

I just wanted to add that I am not too much of a shipper to be that invested in this section of the ask, and I simply don’t feel that strong about every character and I do not know many supports by heart.

Favourite headcanon:

Laslow: After the war, Laslow found that it is time to put down his sword and invests his time into what he truly loves: dancing and making people smile. He would still low-key keep himself fit for combat by implementing his skill with the sword in some of his dancing rituals in case any new war would break out or if his partner were to come to danger, but the last thing he would want for is his partner to worry for his life as he would do the same for them if they were to be sent into battle.

Niles: Despite the sadist that he is, he reveals to have a weak spot to those who seem ever so oblivious to his behaviour. He feels the need to protect these people at all costs while continuing to behave the way he is with others. No one knows this softer side of him, however, until they get close to him.

Camilla: For some reason I like to think that Camilla ends up as a cat lady, always surrounded by furry friends. And uh, don’t mess with her cats either.

Sakura: She becomes best friends with Elise. Together they would always visit peasants and offer them food and flowers whilst keeping the children entertained with toys. They are to be known the kindest princesses of their current age as they are absolutely selfless in all they do. Even whilst growing into adulthood and marrying off other men, their friendship never lost its strength.

Leo: I like to think Leo is aromantic. His love for knowledge and magic is greater than for other humans, other than the platonic love he carries for his friends and family. This is why he remains an unmarried prince and this has always worked out as Xander’s son Siegbert is to take over the throne when Xander passes. If for some reason he must marry, he would find political reasons for this much more than to marry for love.

These headcanons are not necessarily favourites, I was already happy I could come up with some whilst avoiding any headcanons that involve specific ships. Some characters already have such a strong canon that I find it hard to headcanon around it as well.

#AskMiri #evangeline noir #I FINALLY ANSWERED IT!

[letsbenditlikebennett]

Conversations with Dead People || Ariana & Kaden

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup & @letsbenditlikebennett ft. a special dream brought to life guest  SUMMARY: When Ariana goes to Kaden to drop off a fresh batch of treats for Abel, she asks him some serious questions and some dreams come to life.  CONTENT: Grief

With the full moon that recently passed, Ariana had a fresh new batch of venison dog treats for Luna and all her other favorite dogs in town. Making dog treats served as a good distraction to the feeling of lead in her chest weighing her down as she tried her damnedest not to think of Winn. Everything was still too fresh and she needed to keep her mind occupied to keep from totally losing it. With dog treats done and stew in the slow cooker, she had decided to deliver Abel’s treats over to Kaden’s. He was expecting her, but the sense of dread she felt about seeing him wouldn’t go away. She had to ask though. She didn’t smell him on the scene, but something about the scent near the gunfire was off. Familiar but not at the same time. She needed to know it wasn’t him. She needed to know that not letting Winn speak up about Kaden the last time the pack got together didn’t cost Winn his life. She couldn’t keep carrying the blame in her that two people she loved died because of her careless and naive actions. The circles under her eyes kept growing darker and she knew they were still puffy as she knocked on his door. “Hey,” she greeted more quietly than normal as he opened the door, “I wanted to bring these by for Abel.” She held up the ziploc bag full of venison jerky and biscuits. “I was also hoping you’d have a bit of time to talk?” She looked up to him now, pleading evident in her tired eyes. 

Abel always knew when someone was at the door before Kaden did. “Hold on, calm down, stop barking,” he said to the dog as he got up from the couch. Ariana told him she was coming over to deliver treats, should be a quick hand off. It didn’t make sense to him how much he seemingly liked the girl. She was kind and caring and a pain in the ass a lot of times, not unlike Blanche. But she was also a werewolf. Very much so. He felt the chill down his spine before his hand had even reached the doorknob. Putain, he couldn’t make sense of it. Why did he care at all? And why was she being nice to him? He knew why. Deep down he did. Celeste. Something about her sister tethered them together. But at a certain point, when was it still respecting his fallen friend and just being friends with a werewolf? Kaden wasn’t sure. And he was going to keep putting off that question. Because this was going to be a quick and simple hand off. “Hey,” he said as he opened the door. Shit. Why did she look so rough? No. It didn’t matter. “Thanks for the treats.” He was about to take the bag and close the door, Abel’s nose nuzzling out around his side, trying desperately to push his way to the girl for pets. “Abel, stay back, we’re not-- Wait, you were?” His brow furrowed, mouth pulled into a thin line. Shit, she really did look upset. He could still say no. Say he was busy. Tell her to go away. But he looked in her eyes and sighed. “Yeah, sure, come in.”

There was always a certain hesitation that came with their in person interactions that threw Ariana off guard. She guessed it wasn’t too surprising considering what they both were. By nature, they were supposed to hate each other, but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to hate someone her sister had cared for. Especially, when it bridged the gaps between their two worlds in the way. She had to believe that Kaden saw her as a person, it was clear he wanted to keep her out of harm’s way and that wasn’t just some loyalty to Celeste. It didn’t put her stomach at ease though. Part of her wanted to cling to the idea that he’d never be so reckless as to shoot a wolf in human form point blank in the middle of town, especially as a cop, but she had to know. “Yeah,” she answered, her voice still sounding ragged from lack of sleep and too many tears cried. She followed him into his apartment and reached a hand out for Abel to sniff. A weak smile formed on her lips as he seemed eager to greet her. She gave his head a few gentle pets before flopping onto Kaden’s couch. She fidgeted with her hands a moment, not entirely ready to dive into the questions she had, but she knew putting it off was only going to increase the tension. “I,” she started and decided to look up to him, “I don’t want to accuse you of anything because I don’t really think you’d-- I mean you’re a cop, you wouldn’t just shoot someone in the middle of town even if they were a wolf, right?” She did her best to fight the tears that were threatening to spill over. Whatever the truth was, she needed to deal with it. Nothing was going to change the fact her friend was still dead, but at least she’d know if she really did need to put some distance between herself and Kaden. 

Kaden’s mouth pulled into a thin line as he pulled the door open to let her in, shepherding Abel behind him. It didn’t matter much, the dog was immediately at her side, asking for attention. At least one of them was perfectly at ease with the whole situation. As she parked herself on the couch, he crossed his arms and leaned up against the chair across the way, still standing. It felt wrong, the idea of getting comfortable while it felt like ants were crawling down his spine. As much as he wanted sometimes to forget what she was, the world would never let him. Maybe it was for the best. His head tilted and he leaned in a bit as she fumbled, trying to find the words she was looking for before she did. And really, he should have seen it coming. “That’s what you wanted to ask,” he said painly, looking away a moment, trying to keep from rolling his eyes even a little. He was so fucking tried of fielding this question, but she was clearly upset, there didn’t seem to be a reason to twist the knife in if he could avoid it. “No, it wasn’t me.” He clenched his jaw and held back that he wouldn’t have hesitated to shoot Winn Woods as a wolf at any moment, especially knowing what he knew. “You’re right. I’m not stupid enough to shoot someone in the middle of the day right out in the middle of town.” He couldn’t tell why being asked if he killed a wolf was getting under his skin like this. Because he would have killed that wolf. And he wasn’t particularly upset that he was gone. And yet, somehow being asked over and over again whether or not he did it dug into him a little more. “What if I was, Ari? What then?” he asked, arms still crossed, eyes averting hers. It was probably stupid to ask. And not the time. But the question kept eating at him.

Any relief that it wasn’t Kaden who killed Winn quickly faded when Ariana realized whoever did was still out there. It wasn’t a comforting thought. Who was to say she wouldn’t be shot leaving the kids’ soccer practice one day. She didn’t believe it was right or that she had deserved as much, but neither had Winn. She nodded along slowly and remarked, “I didn’t think you did, I just…” She wasn’t quite sure. Her mind was tired and weary which made it harder to explain what was going on, but she could try. “I guess I just had to know it wasn’t my,” she cut herself off. Would it have really been her fault? Winn had cautioned anyone Kaden hurt after she insisted on not putting a target on his head was on her. Was she wrong to trust him? She wished more than anything Celeste was here. All she wanted to do was keep a part of Celeste alive with her and it was growing increasingly difficult when the world kept wanting to stomp out any shred of optimism and hope she had left. She shifted uncomfortably on the couch and it seemed the dog picked up on her tension. His next question was loaded and she had no idea what the answer was. “Honestly,” she answered, “I don’t really know-- I wouldn’t” She wouldn’t what? Hurt him? That much was apparent, she didn’t have it in her. Even if the belief she had in him becoming a better person was shattered, she still couldn’t kill him. Would she stop others from trying? She still couldn’t figure as much out. “I couldn’t hurt you. Which maybe that makes me stupid and naive or whatever the hell else has been implied when I didn’t let a bunch of wolves put an actual target on your head, but I’m just glad it wasn’t you. I’m glad it wasn’t my fault he’s gone. Celeste already--” She found it hard to finish the sentence as her voice cracked. Celeste being gone had been her fault as much as everyone liked to convince her it wasn’t. If she hadn’t insisted on staying in this stupid town, they’d be somewhere new and maybe she’d have to say goodbye to her friends, but Celeste would still be there. 

Ariana hadn’t meant to let the tears well up in her eyes, but confronting this was hard and his question made her think of all the ways her own actions had cost her the people she loved. As she reached a hand to rub her eyes before any could fall, she let out a small gasp. She clutched the edges of her jacket sleeves and blinked a few times. She was still there somehow. This must have been a dream. She pinched herself and was still in the same room. She gave her face a small slap, willing herself to wake up if this was in fact a dream, but it turned out it wasn’t. Celeste was there wearing the same floral t-shirt she’d worn so many times before with a sad smile on her face. She’d seen her this way in dreams plenty of times, but she was awake now, wasn’t she? “Kaden,” she breathed out barely above whisper, “Turn around.” 

Kaden resisted the urge to question why she had to ask him if she didn’t think it was him. She was just a kid. Sure, she was a werewolf, but sitting on his couch was a teenage girl on the brink of tears, too. He shifted, uncomfortable, not sure if he should offer comfort or just carry on as he was. Things were so much simpler when he just killed werewolves and didn’t let them into his life. Making exceptions complicated the rules. Along with everything else. Sometimes he wondered if his life wouldn’t have been better had he never met Celeste. No. The thought alone felt like poison, guilt seeped through for even considering it. There’s no way that was true. But if that wasn’t true, then it still left him here. Kaden continued to stand there, planned to let her sort out her feelings before jumping in. But then she elaborated. “When you what?” The creases in his forehead deepened as he tried to take on the full weight of what she said. “Hold on, a bunch of wolves knew I was a hunter? Did you tell them? But wait you stopped them from-- They were going to--” There were too many things stirring around inside him. He couldn't sort through the emotions bubbling up. Anger. That was easy to identify. But something else. Hurt? Was that… Fuck it, didn’t matter. Emotions weren’t productive. Answers first. He could figure out how the hell to feel about any of this later.

His fingers dug into his palm as he held his hand in a fist, arms still crossed in front of him, trying to keep it that way. Kaden should just leave her be. Let this interaction end and then keep some distance, not further complicate things. But putain, seeing her like that… His arms fell away and he took a tentative step towards her when she slapped herself. “Ari? Uh, what are you do--” His brow furrowed as she addressed him. “What? Turn a-- What are you talking about? Ari what are you--” He shook his head a little, her eyes clearly looking past him. Right. He slowly, carefully, pivoted on his heel to look behind him. And there she was. “Celeste?” His jaw fell open and he stood in stunned silence a moment. Was she a-- But she was-- She’d moved on. She had to. Right? She had to have moved on. And even then, since when could he see gh-- Kaden stumbled back and tripped over his coffee table and onto the floor as he scrambled away. He cursed and grumbled to himself before saying. “It can’t be. Ari, she-- It can’t be. ...Can it?”

The frustration began to seep in when Kaden didn’t recognize she’d done him a favor. Ariana narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, wanting to fight, even though it wouldn’t make her feel better at the end of the day. Winn would still be dead. Instead, she just grumbled, “No, I didn’t tell them you were a hunter-- I wouldn’t do that to you. Another wolf that you shot wanted to tell everyone. He’s dead now anyway so guess it doesn’t fucking matter.” She really needed him to meet her halfway here. Everyone advised her against having anything to do with him, but she still believed in him anyway. It’d be nice if he could act like she had done him a solid and protected him when that was what she was done, but all of that faded away when he said her name. When he saw that she was there, too. It couldn’t be though, right? Blanche would have seen her before now. If she was hanging around as a ghost, Ariana refused to believe she wasn’t with her so she told herself Celeste was at peace. If that was the case, how was she here? “You see her too,” Ariana questioned in a hushed voice. 

Celeste’s figure took a few steps forward and Ariana felt her breath catch in her throat. Everything in her was screaming to reach out. Run and hug her. Do literally anything besides sit here dumbfounded, but she couldn’t shake that this wasn’t real. That if she reached out to touch her, she’d only fade away. All of that melted away when she spoke in the same gentle voice she used so many times before. “It’s me,” she said softly placing a hand on Ariana’s shoulder. It was enough for Ariana to give into the tears that had been threatening to spill over. She nearly left off the couch and into Celeste’s arm, burying her head in her chest and relishing in the familiar feeling of her sister running her hands over her hair. She was terrified to let go, terrified she’d wake up and everything would still be the same. “Shhh, you’ll be okay, Ari.” A few more pats on the head and Ariana finally pulled away. It sounded like her. Her body language was the same, but the question of how haunted her. “How are you here,” Ariana pressed, desperate for answers a not quite ghost wasn’t able to provide. “I’m not sure,” Celeste answered and turned to Kaden. She looked between her sister and her friend, “You’ve both come a long way I see.” She reached out to Kaden now, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder and noted, “Nice bracelet.”

“Don’t get mad at me, I’m just trying to follow what happened! You dumped a lot of shit at once, putain! Like that there was a gathering of werewolves standing around deciding if they should throw my name into a pile to kill me,” Kaden spat back. He paused, pulled his mouth in a thin line and huffed out a breath through his nose. He shouldn’t be lashing out at her. She was upset and angry and falling into it himself wasn’t going to help matters. Still he could feel the pin pricks along his spin and rolled his shoulders back to try and roll away the tension. “I’m not trying to-- I’m just trying to figure out what you’re talking about.” If only he had some of Celeste’s patience right about now. It might do them both some good. 

While he craved some help from her, the last thing Kaden expected to see was Celeste’s form. Right there in front of him. Talking to Ari. He wanted to watch the girl’s reaction, see if she noticed anything off, make sure they were on the same page, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from his friend. It didn’t make any damn sense. The creese in his brow deepened as her hand rested on his shoulder. “What? How? You--” He bit into his lip, trying to focus on the pain enough to hold back the tears pricking at his eyes. His eyes followed hers down to his wrist and back. Right. “Thanks.” No. Too late. Tears were coming. Kaden pressed his eyes shut and blinked what he could away. And crazy enough, she was still there when he opened his eyes. It wasn’t possible, right? He’d wanted to see her so desperately for months but now that she was there in front of him, he didn’t know what to say. All the questions he had and conversations he’d wished for faded from his memory. On top of that, he still wasn’t convinced this was real. He pushed himself up and slowly started scooting closer to Ari. Just in case this wasn’t really Celeste. “How do we know it’s you? I mean-- The bracelet. But--” How could they be sure?

There was no chance to explain herself even though Ariana could understand where Kaden was coming from. She couldn’t focus on that with Celeste here. There had been so much that happened in the past few months that she had been dying to share with Celeste. Now that she finally had the chance, she was drawing a blank. She searched for a flaw in her form or body language that would give away a fake, but everything about her was just as she remembered. She was afraid to blink, that she’d open her eyes again and she’d just be gone. Tears were still present in her eyes and it was clear Kaden had a fresh wave coming in, too. Neither of them had expected this, but she didn’t want it to end. “Is it really you? You smell like… well, you,” she murmured, still unsure of this whole situation. This wasn’t possible, right? Impossible things happened in White Crest all the time and she wanted more than anything for this to be one of those things. 

Ariana looked to Celeste expectantly who had the same calm demeanor she’d always known. Celeste looked between them and Ariana shifted uncomfortably. Too much emotion was pulling up inside of her. With her gaze finally settling on Ariana, she answered, “You have a jagged scar on your right shoulder from when you fell out of a tree. You were eight and we’d been living in New Mexico at the time.” The memory one was a fond one and she added teasingly, “You refused to sit still as I stitched you up.” Ariana nodded slowly knowing that she never shared this story with anyone else and hadn’t just been thinking about it. That meant it had to be her. “I don’t know how you’re here, but I-- Please, stay,” she practically pleaded. Celeste frowned slightly, “I don’t know if I can, but I’m here now. I know I gave you that bracelet before I… I’m sorry if the arrival was untimely. So what exactly am I interrupting here?” 

Every part of Kaden wanted to believe this was his friend back talking to him, some piece of her there to comfort them both. But he continued to inch closer to Ari in case this was all a trick, something fucked up spat out by this town to mess with them. The more she talked, however, the more he felt as if that wasn’t the case. But why was she here as a ghost? And they could see her. It didn’t sit right. At all. But he had needed to talk to her so many times and likely Ariana had even more moments like that, countless most likely. If he wanted it to be real, it was hard to fathom how desperately she wanted-- no, needed this to be true. Pushing aside the appeals to logic came easier every second that passed. 

“It’s-- It’s alright,” Kaden said, pushing past the wobble in his voice. “I tried. I really tried to warn you. I’m so sorry, I tried. I saw them. I should have stopped them in that bar. I could have done something and I didn’t--” The words came falling out of his mouth faster than he had a chance to evaluate them. The lump in his throat cut him off and he wiped away the stray tears with the back of his hand. “Sorry, I-- Sorry. You’re just interrupting…” What even was this? He couldn’t say. His glance caught Ariana’s. How could he explain what was going on to the ghost of his dead friend when he didn’t even know. “Ari came to bring treats for Abel. And then we, uh, talked. She had questions. For me.” He was going to leave the rest to the werewolf to explain to the ghost. “But you-- Did you not move on? I was hoping-- I mean I thought you would. Is something wrong? Why can we see you?”

It felt as if her head was spinning and Ariana didn’t feel firmly planted on the ground. More than anything, she wanted this to be real. It felt real and it made her heart feel as if it could burst out of her chest at any moment. Yet there she was, the calm in the storm that somehow sent her spiraling and grounded her all in one fell swoop. Kaden’s admission tugged at her own heartstrings. He blamed himself, too. Reeled over the details of things he could have done differently just as she had these past few months. Her own tears were falling now, though she was failing to come up with the words. All she could bring herself to say in a choked whisper was, “Please don’t go.” Her eyes were pleading and Celeste had given them both softer, comforting looks. One she’d seen so many times before. One she wanted to perfectly etch into her memory so she’d never have to live without it again. 

Ariana noticed Kaden kept close to her and she wondered if he noticed something she didn’t. Everything felt so real and Celeste assured, “Everything happened too quickly. This was always going to happen one day. You shouldn’t hold onto what could have been done differently.” Somehow, hearing it from Celeste made her feel a little bit better than she had been. “She’s right,” Ariana agreed even though she knew she’d been blaming herself, too. All she knew was this definitely wasn’t Kaden’s fault. She did want to hear his questions answered though. “I don’t really know. I remember what happened, but I don’t really remember anything since. I think I was? I’m not sure why I’m here, if there’s something deeper going on within the town, but I do know it’s nice seeing you together,” Celeste explained and added, “I don’t know if anything is wrong. I feel okay, but I don’t know how long we have.” 

Kaden shook his head, unable to accept what she was saying. If he had just interrupted her mother and that other hunter, made a decision, done something, maybe things would have been different. His inaction had contributed to it all, he was sure of it. That wasn’t something he was going to let go of anytime soon. No matter who told him to consider otherwise. He sniffed and brushed his face with the back of his hand. “Doesn’t matter if she’s right, I’m going to hold onto that until the day I die. You can’t stop me.” Because she wasn’t around to. Ari, maybe. But he at least had age on her as a one up. It was surreal seeing his friend again. He was so sure he never would. Only in sad dreams, mostly nightmares. That was when most of the people he lost came back to him. Only in dreams meant to remind him of the pain. Still, Kaden found himself angling in such a way that he could protect Ariana, defend her maybe. Strange. He rolled his shoulders back and stepped away, just a touch. There was still so much unexplained, unreal, but he was still sure this was somehow Celeste. A part of her, at least. Something that wouldn’t hurt them. Well, not outright at least. He hoped. Putain, all the conversations he wanted to have with her felt stupid when faced with her. He wanted to yell at her for leaving him with so many unanswered questions and no one to go to. Instead, he figured his problems, his sadness, it paled in comparison to Ari’s. “I think you mean it’s weird,” he mumbled before turning to Ari. “But go on. If there’s not much time… It’s yours.”

Kaden had quietly urged her to use her time wisely though she couldn’t quite forget the blame he was carrying when this whole thing was decidedly her fault. There had been countless moments over the last few months that she had longed for Celeste to be there. So she could seek her guidance or show her a new project she’d been working on. Now that Ariana was finally looking at her again, the only thing that seemed to matter was one. “I love you,” she said quietly with tears freely falling, “I miss you so much. All the time. I don’t know what I’m supposed to…” There were so many things she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do about. So many different problems she wanted Celeste’s help with, but if their time was short, those didn’t matter. Every part of her wanted to cling to this moment. She was afraid to blink, afraid to move. She couldn’t lose her. Not again, but the comforting hand on her arm slowed her heart a bit. She even smelled the same. The faint smell of her floral perfume swirled with the aroma of cinnamon that clung to her from her countless cups of coffee. “I think you do. You’ve never needed me to know what’s right, Ari. I wish I could stay, make things easier, but I don’t know if I can,” Celeste assured her in the same soothing tone she always used. 

Ariana leaned into her touch and nodded slowly. It was hard to believe she knew what was right when she seemed to be stumbling through life these days, but she’d hold on to those words. She’d tried to remember them when things got tough. As if sensing her distress, Celeste added, “Remember, you’re never alone. Even if I’m not here, you have people looking out for you. I know Winston and Ulf would do just about anything to keep you safe and happy. Even Kaden I’m sure would help if you needed him.” She’d given him a glance as she said the last part. Ariana quickly piped in, “He has.” Somehow it felt important that Celeste knew that and he knew she knew as much. She wished she could just stay. That none of this had to end, but people didn’t just come back from the dead without some serious magic. Nell had implied and offered as much. Words seemed to be failing her in this moment, so she just took Celeste’s hand. She tried to think of happy things to share with her, but was somehow drawing a blank. As she finally thought to tell her about trade school and her job, she heard a choked sound come from Celeste. She looked up horrified. No. This couldn’t be happening. This was every nightmare she ever had playing out in front of her in Kaden’s apartment of all places. The same knife was in her chest again and the blood spilled out just as it always had. “No,” she cried out, “Please, no.” She reached out for her as if she could help, but she faded just as quickly as she appeared and the breath hitched in her throat. Her stomach churned and she was sure she was going to be sick. Her legs felt weak beneath her and she let herself fall to the ground, refusing to look away from the spot where Celeste just was. 

Kaden almost felt like he should leave the room, give them a moment. But his eyes couldn't leave his friend’s face, back from the dead. And he knew first hand, if he had more time to talk to his parents… He should walk away. But his feet were firmly planted. And something about this still felt too easy to be true. Still, her voice, just hearing it, even if she wasn’t talking to him, it was almost overwhelming. He had practically forgotten what it sounded like. It was a kick in the gut to think about how quickly things faded, how fleeting memories really were. He knew. He was no stranger to loss. But every time, he stupidly thought it might be different. At the mention of him, however, he looked away, a little sheepishly, catching his friend’s glance at the end. If he had to guess, it looked something like a flash of pride, gratitude maybe. The corner of his mouth pulled up into a small smile. 

It quickly dropped as soon as Celeste, or whatever was masquerading as Celeste, started to bleed out in front of them. Kaden reached out for Ariana and pulled her away. He didn’t know what was happening, but he had enough distrust in the whole thing that he wasn’t going to reach out to save his friend. She was already gone. Her sister, however? She was real. He knew that much. And he owed it to Celeste. He owed this much. Still, it was like his hands were gripping something hot after a second; he wanted to drop his grip on her and jump away. That’s what he should do, what with all the feelings of spiders crawling along his back. But he didn’t. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but keeping her safe was more important to him than whatever comfort he felt. Which was stupid but he could chide himself later. Before he could shout anything, fight anything, the vision was gone. Just as quickly as it had appeared. His hand lingered on Ari’s shoulder as she collapsed to the ground. His knees were shaking and he wondered if he was going to join her down there soon. For now, he stood there, blinking. The sight was replaying in front of him every time his eyes shut and open. “That was…” It was how she died. He knew it. “She… She looked like…” Kaden swallowed back the lump in his throat. “It wasn’t her. Ari, I’m sorry. It wasn’t-- She didn’t die again. Ari, it’s--” He didn’t even know what he was trying to say. Because it wasn’t fine. Or alright. And even if it was, he sure as shit didn’t feel fine. He opened his mouth to try and say something else but all he found was air. His hand gripped her shoulder a little tighter as he felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes again. “I’m sorry,” was all he could manage. 

Ariana hoped like hell that she would just wake up and this would float away to be nothing more than a quick sting that’d be forgotten as soon as she got moving for the day. The longer she sat there on his floor, the more apparent it became she was stuck with the weighted feel in her chest that kept her glued to the floor. At least if she woke up, it’d feel distant. At least when it happened, there was someone to lash out at, but she was stuck with this feeling now. There was no outlet but heave in breaths that felt entirely too shallow. The only thing keeping her grounded was Kaden’s hand on her shoulder that surprisingly remained there. She trembled on the ground staring at the spot where Celeste stood only moments ago as if by sheer willpower, she could just reappear again. It wasn’t going to happen though and she struggled to catch her breath. Kaden’s words only barely registered in her ears with the pressure building up in her head. “That was how she,” she barely croaked out the words, but knew he could hear her anyway. Knew she didn’t need to bother finishing the sentence. 

The edge of emotion was evident in his voice, too, and somehow helped guide her anguish toward anger. Ariana’s fists clenched in her lap though they still shook. Whatever had the nerve to take her sister’s form and put both of them deserved more than her rage. Her breath still continued in huffs and she finally agreed, “It wasn’t her.” But it looked so much like her. Smelled so much like her. Even her words sounded exactly like something Celeste would say and followed the same cadence. It had felt so real and had been ripped away from her again so violently. Maybe she had deserved as much. If she had only been more cautious, Celeste would still be here and nothing would be imitating her. No amount of wishing she had done things differently would change that though. So she sat there, defeated on the floor letting the tears flow freely. She’d been stupid to believe that Celeste could have really been there just like she had been stupid to believe they could just live their lives as normal in one place while the Aquillas had still hunted them. She guessed she was stuck living with both of those things now. 

#wickedswriting #conversations with dead people #kaden #grief tw

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

We Both Go Down Together || Regan and Kaden

TIMING: Immediately after Tooth and Claw and Light and Shadow LOCATION: The curb outside of Deirdre’s house PARTIES: @kadavernagh and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Kaden doesn’t know where else to go so he waits for Regan outside on the curb CONTENT WARNINGS: Vomit tw, Self-harm mentions

Walking away from the vet clinic without a dog in hand was the single worst feeling. No, Kaden knew that was a lie. The thoughts plaguing him about how familiar that wolf looked was the worst feeling. He shouldn’t care. That werewolf nearly killed Abel. It was dangerous. It didn’t deserve to live. He did his job. He kept people safe. There was nothing wrong with what he did.

But what if it was his friend's sister?

The bile that had been threatening its way out the whole night forced its way out by the side of his car. Putain. Kaden’s hand shook as he held it by the handle of his car. Where was he even going to go? His apartment was going to be empty. Completely empty and hollowed out in its own way. Sure, alright, Rumpleskuffs would be there. It wasn’t the same. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with mushrooms in his bed or answer questions of where Abel was. His fist pulled back and slammed into the side of the car.

Shit. He’d have to get Alain to fix the dent in his car. That’s right. He could go there, see Alain. No, didn’t feel right. Bea; Kaden didn’t even know where she was. Probably Felix’s. She had enough. Oscar was still hunting. He couldn’t interrupt. Couldn’t explain why he was upset. Not really. There was only one person he wanted to see. Just one. But he couldn’t. He shouldn’t.

Fuck it. Kaden got in the car and drove to East End until he got to Deirdre’s house, parking on the road across the way. He got out of the car, sat himself on the curb and sent a text. Then waited, fingernails digging into his palms. Maybe if he gripped his fists tighter he could hold it all in a little longer. For now, he waited. He might be sitting there until the sun came up and then some. But he wasn’t leaving. He didn’t know where else he wanted to go, anyway.

Al probably would have paid good money to his sister meditating. He never stopped talking about meditation and mindfulness and that it could even be beneficial to doctors, but Regan was never able to successfully quiet her thoughts enough to enjoy it. No, meditation was a waste of time. That was time better spent working. Or studying. Or-- she winked open one eye, then the other. No matter how much she tried to imagine that she was elsewhere, or living another life, she was always brought back here: to the inside of Deirdre’s shed, waiting for that soft spot on the roof to collapse on her. It would probably be a mercy at this point. Regan sighed through her teeth. Deirdre had instructed several hours of meditation; she was to practice her breathing and try to embrace the death, whatever that meant. Possibly the pulsing of the taxidermy in the corner of the room that she’d thrown a blanket over.

She heard her phone beep. Probably Cece again, with more nonsensical chatter about television shows. Why she even wanted to talk, Regan couldn’t fathom it. Still, she’d take any excuse to cut the meditation short. With another sigh, she lifted herself from the bed, stretching her legs.

Kaden.

"Abel was hurt. I'm outside on the curb."

A cold fist gripped her throat. She wasn’t even sure which order she should be panicking about this sequence of events in. Kaden was here, not in the shed, but close to it, and he wanted to see her. Needed to see her. And Abel had been hurt. How? Who would ever hurt-- Regan’s mind flashed to the turkey, her hands on the warm feathers, as the scream ripped through layers of flesh and organ and tissue.

She stared at the phone like it could bite her.

Regan wasn’t sure she would ever be able to forgive herself for what she had done to Grace, Cece, and Janus. Or that she’d put herself in a position where that was a likely outcome at all. Her blame and fault and guilt propelled her faster and harder and into the necessary work she and Deirdre were doing, but she didn’t want to pile any more on herself. And if she were to ignore this text, or say she couldn’t-- it would just be another thing she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself for. Abel was Kaden’s best friend. He loved that dog. Regan felt great affection for him, too, though she wasn’t sure what qualified as love when it was directed toward a non-human animal.

She grabbed the necklace, made sure the bandages on her hand were secured, and tore out of the shed.

And there Kaden was, just like he’d said. Sitting on the curb, every muscle tense, as he looked like he was about to cave in on himself. He was perfectly still, like stone, which Regan took to be shock. What had happened? She froze about thirty feet away from him, and met his teary eyes. “Kaden?” She asked, voice scratchier than she thought it’d be. That shouldn’t have been surprising given all of the screaming. “Kaden, I’m here.” Just… nowhere close to him. She reached out, wishing she could hold him or at least put his hand in hers, but that wasn’t a risk she was going to take. She closed her eyes, trying to stop her own tears. Crying is unbecoming. No, she needed to get closer. She inched up to him, stopping again at about ten feet away, before sitting on the curb herself. “Do… do you want to tell me what happened?”

She wasn’t going to come. He was going to sit here like an idiot and she wasn’t going to leave the fucking shed. Kaden knew it. He knew it. This was just like before. He’d sit there outside her door waiting and she’d stay on the other side, leaving them both lost and alone. No. That wouldn’t happen this time. This time he’d wait. Until she--

His breath waited, held in his chest as he saw movement. There’s no way. It was probably just a rabbit or a squirrel or-- Regan. It was Regan. How long had it been now since he’d seen her? It felt like forever. Which was stupid, it wasn’t that long. Still, it felt like the whole world had shifted since he’d last seen her. But she was still her. She had to be. He should stand up. Run to her. He wanted to. Thought about it. But Kaden couldn’t move. Part of him was convinced it was a mirage, just an illusion off in the distance. But it stayed in the distance. It was her alright, not an illusion. He bit the inside of his mouth, dug his fingernails in farther. Why did he think this would be an exception? He was the one who made those, not her. All he wanted was to get up off the damn curb and wrap his arms around her.

Kaden didn’t move. Just met her eyes, waiting to see what she would do. His heart sank. Of course she wasn’t going to get closer. Maybe he shouldn’t have come. He couldn’t handle having her at just an arm’s length. Somehow that was worse than just not seeing her at all. But she kept walking, small cautious steps towards him, and his brows knit closer together with every foot fall, wondering if that would be where she’d stop. Until she sat next to him, sitting on the curb. He could hear her pulse, slow, steady. And he was still there frozen. Because if he moved, spoke, turned to face her, he was afraid he might collapse or explode, he wasn’t sure. “Abel. He went-- I was---” The lump in his throat didn’t want to let him push words past it. “I was hunting. He was with me. And a were--” Was this the time to tell her? To bring up that part of it all? He wasn’t sure either of them could handle that full weight of that conversation. Not yet. Maybe tonight. But not yet. “A monster. Tore him a--” He clenched down on the inside of his mouth to the point he tasted blood, trying to keep the image out of his mind a little while longer. “Vet. He’s at the vet. I think-- But I don’t--” He stopped talking. Stopped moving. He still couldn’t turn to look at her. What good was falling apart if he couldn’t count on any comfort? This was probably a mistake. He told her she should focus on herself and yet here he was. He should have gone to Bea or Alain or even Morgan who was just a few meters away. If he could hold himself together long enough, maybe it would be okay. Even though he felt like nothing at all was going to be okay.

He had been hunting with Abel. Regan’s assumption was no longer that he was sitting in the bushes with a shotgun waiting for a deer to move into his scope. No, he was out there looking for animals that no museum had specimens of and that no textbook described. And something dangerous had-- one of his monsters. It was no wonder Kaden looked like he was ready to collapse. He blamed himself. Understandably. But she still suspected she didn’t have the whole picture yet. If Abel was at the vet, he was still alive. Unless it was for a necrop-- no, he was still alive. Kaden would have specified. That thought still made her chest tighten. Whatever had happened, whatever had nearly torn Abel apart, it had been serious. Kaden was clearly trying to stifle his tears, but it wasn’t working. He looked damn near broken, worse than some of the literal fractures Regan had seen. And she could barely do anything to help, as much as she wanted to, as tempting as it was to throw caution to the wind and hold him and dry his eyes and tell him that everything was going to be okay, she couldn’t do it.

Nothing really felt okay right now. And even thinking of saying that brought the burn of a lie to her tongue.

Regan folded her arms over her chest, hugging herself, wishing she could do that to Kaden. She slumped forward, elbows on her knees. Kaden’s pain was visceral. She met his eyes -- swollen with tears and worry. This felt fresh. Like it had just happened. It likely had. That was why he was here -- he hadn’t thought about it, he just moved, seeking comfort from the person he trusted to be able to provide it. Only, Regan wasn’t sure that she could. “Kaden, I’m so… it’s not your fault. It isn’t your fault, okay? No one can predict these things, and it’s-- he’ll be okay, right? He’ll be okay. He’s at the vet. They’ll take care of him, and--” And he would be alone until Abel was recovered. Her heart dropped. “Can you tell me which vet has him? I’ll-- I know I’m not an animal doctor, but I’ll check their credentials and-- and I want to make sure he’s-- what happened, Kaden? How bad is it? Are you hurt? Are-- what can I--” She’d never felt so powerless to do anything. But at the same time, she knew Kaden wouldn’t see it that way. He wanted physical contact, comfort; both of them had grown accustomed to that. But he didn’t know what her touch had done. Regan looked down at her fingers; they felt heavy, like they were coated in poison. The healing incised wounds on her palm sent a spike of pain up her arm. She had curled her fingers at the blade, reacted when she should have been still. Holding back a scream was immeasurably more difficult. She looked back up at Kaden, her eyes watery. “Tell me how to help.”

Her words rang hollow. Kaden wanted them to give him some comfort but there was nothing. It didn’t help that she was saying it from about three meters away from him. It was almost enough to make him laugh. She was sitting out of reach because she blamed herself for something she had no control over while telling him a scenario he created wasn’t his fault. “It is. It is my fault. It’s more my fault than your--” How hard could he bite the inside of his mouth before he tore through it? Would it be just as easy as how that wolf tore through Abel? “I shouldn’t have brought him. I shouldn’t have--” His chest was too tight to let words escape for longer than short bursts. And even then he still didn’t know what he was trying to say. He shouldn’t have brought Abel, that much was clear. But should he have just stayed home for the night? Is that what he wanted to say? Shit. Shit, it was. He shouldn’t have been out at all tonight. He could have prevented all of it by inaction. It was a choice. A choice he’d passed up. Blood from his palms slipped against the leather of his jacket as he let go of his fists just long enough to cross his arms in front of his chest and clasp his hands around his own arms. He had to hold back the tightness in his chest, keep it from bursting out.

“Dr. Rhee. Zinnia. She-- She knows what she’s doing but it’s not-- That’s not the point. I--” Kaden shook his head. He knew Abel was okay as he could be. He was in the best possible hands. Hands that could heal with magic. Putain, he still hadn’t even begun to process it. He couldn’t. There was too much. It was all too much. If he just held his arms a little tighter, let his knuckles get whiter, he could hold back the flood threatening to burst through his makeshift dam. “Hunting. A monster. It attacked. Abel, he-- He almost died. He-- I almost killed him. I did kill--” He wasn’t sure if it was tears or bile that was the real threat of breaking through first. Fuck. “I killed the monster. Uh, leg. It got my-- but Zinnia, she closed it up. It’s fine. It’ll be-- It doesn’t matter.” The air wasn’t even that cold and still he was damn near shivering. Maybe if he held tighter he could keep still, keep it all in.

Kaden dared to meet her eyes. How could she help. She asked him. And he didn’t have an answer. If he had an answer he probably wouldn’t have come. Because he would have been keenly aware of how little she could do right now. And it wasn’t much. “I don’t know,” he said, voice tight and croaked. “You tell me. I mean hearing your voice, it’s-- But it’s not--” He pinched his eyes shut and held them there, hoping it would push away the tears. He came because she made things better. When things were bad that’s just, that’s how it worked. Being with her made things better. And right now he wasn’t sure he felt any damn better. He sniffed back some of the tears and looked at her once more. “I can’t go back to that empty apartment.” Not yet. Not tonight.

It’s more my fault than your-- Regan bit down on her tongue, anticipating Kaden’s comment, but it seemed he did the same thing, cutting it short. She knew what he had been about to say, though. After all of this, even after she’d put their friends in the hospital, he still didn’t blame her, wasn’t willing to see the situation for what it was. That simultaneously hurt -- a sharp and slow and painful wound like glass being grinded against her skin -- and made her chest flutter like a bird was trapped inside of her ribcage. He so badly wanted to believe in her. It was misplaced. He owed himself that kindness, not her.

She’d follow up with this Dr. Rhee later, but it didn’t seem like Kaden was especially concerned about the quality of medical care she was giving Abel -- he was confident it was the best. And his leg, it -- he’d hurt his leg. Regan’s shoulders dropped and her eyes scanned Kaden’s legs for any signs of injury. His pants were too dark to be able to see any blood present, and there was no way to assess his gait while he was sitting down. At least he’d received medical care. Regan trusted that a veterinarian would be more than capable of stitching up an injury, but she still wanted to survey her handiwork. Just-- she couldn’t-- she wasn’t about to touch Kaden, not right now. But it was so hard to be decisive when Kaden seemed to want nothing more, was practically begging for a hug without saying it, and Regan wasn’t sure how long her resolve would be able to last at this rate.

“Kaden, you weren’t-- you didn’t mean for him to get hurt. I know you. If you had the choice, you would have thrown yourself on the sword instead.” He’d probably die for that dog if he could. Regan tried to hold his gaze, but it was hard… he kept slipping away. She wasn’t giving him enough. She knew she wasn’t giving him enough. “He’ll be okay. And he’ll forgive you, because you’re his human and he loves you. And whatever happened with that- that anim- monster that attacked you both, you’ll be able to prevent it from happening again in the future, right?”

It still wasn’t enough. As Kaden mentioned not wanting to go back home, Regan’s heart felt like it leaped into her throat. An anatomical impossibility, but somehow, it still felt that way. She sat, gaping, unsure what to say. She couldn’t-- he may not have been able to go back to his empty apartment alone, but she couldn’t go there with him, either. For a moment, she humored the idea. Going back to Kaden’s apartment. Lying in bed with him, holding him close, until one mistake was made, or one uncontrollable thing happened, and-- and would she feel it? The vibrations along his skin, the pressure blowing up his lungs, the force of the sound making his eyes shoot out of his head and his heart burst?

Regan blanched, bile spilling into her throat. She looked down, expecting to see blood and viscera coating her trembling hands, but there was nothing. Not yet. A sob escaped her throat and, shaking, she looked back over to Kaden. He was still there. Still intact. He had all of his limbs and his eyes and his lungs and his heart, which was probably pounding away in a rhythm that she wished she could feel right now. “I can’t-- I can’t do that.” She said, an answer to a question he hadn’t technically asked. “Kaden, I can’t. And you can’t stay in the shed.” The shed was even closer quarters. And she couldn’t see Deirdre agreeing to this arrangement, anyways, even if Regan didn’t feel like she was a breath away from accidentally slaughtering Kaden like a turkey. “You have my key. You-- my apartment. You can stay there.” Without her. She knew this wasn’t going to be well-received, but maybe after considering it, he would find the offer helpful. “But we can… we can stay here for a while. Like this.”

You’ll be able to prevent it from happening in the future. The words crushed him. Everything that he’d been holding at bay, it came falling down and the weight of it all pinned him to the ground. Kaden breathed in the scent of blood still coming from the small crescent shaped cuts in his hand as he pressed the heel of his palms up to his eyes while tears spilled out around them. His chest heaved as the sob broke through. He’d prevented it from happening in the future, alright. He prevented a lot of possible futures. If it was Ariana’s, if it was-- He couldn’t even process it, couldn’t let it seep in past the feeling of practically drowning in his own guilt. He couldn’t prevent shit. He couldn’t protect his dog. Or himself. Or his friends. Or Regan. Bea. Morgan. Jane. Roland. Celeste. His parents. He couldn’t prevent shit. Death came and creeped into every corner of his life whether he wanted it to or not. Maybe that’s why they were so drawn to each other. It wasn’t fae binding or anything Walker was worried about. It was fate pulling death’s bringer towards its harbinger. Putain. Regan was so worried about hurting him but there was nothing she could do that hurt more than this. Not one damn thing. “You’re right,” he finally spat out. “I’ll-- You’re right.” For once, could she not be fucking right?

Kaden could barely hear what she said next. Could barely pull breath into his lungs. The back of his palm pushed across his lids but the tears he wiped away were quickly replaced. There was a reason he hadn’t asked anything from her. Not once all night. He knew she’d say it. He knew. The word “can’t.” He knew she’d refuse and it sure as shit didn’t help. He tried to pull the dam closed, force it back in place, get himself under control, find that hollowed corner of emptiness again. It wouldn’t go back. Hell, he felt like it was gone, washed away with his sobs that were still practically choking him. “R-right. Can’t,” he said, hands shaking as he pushed his hair out of his face. “Can’t or--” He stopped himself with a sniffle, That wasn’t fair. One look at her and he knew that wasn’t fair. She would if she thought she could. He had to believe it and hold onto it. Even though it felt stupid to right then.

Holding her gaze hurt. Kaden’s eyes felt dry and worn, the bags under them practically weighing him down even more, but that wasn’t why. She was so close. And had never felt farther away. This was stupid. This whole thing. Almost as stupid as what she said next. Her apartment. She suggested-- “Are you fucking kidding me, Regan?” The thought of being there alone, just the mere thought of it, left him feeling hollowed out. And he didn’t think he could feel any fucking worse. Sure proved him wrong. The apartment. With no lightbulbs, no her, and no fucking point in that. Just a nice reminder of how fucking alone he was.

Kaden inhaled, tried to hold steady the sobs that wanted to rip through and put his hands on the curb, felt the sting burn through them as he pushed himself off the concrete to stand. He stood there, looked down at her. What would she even do if he took one single step towards her? Was he even fucking allowed? He couldn’t know about what she was going through, couldn’t be told anything, couldn’t be near her, couldn’t-- just fucking couldn’t. Fuck couldn’t. He turned away, bent down to grab some rocks and gravel, whatever he could gather in his hand, and started pitching it across the way. Half wanted to keep walking, keep moving. He shouldn’t have come here. He shouldn’t have left his place at all tonight.

Kaden was unraveling before her, and Regan didn’t know what she could do to comfort him. Everything she said seemed to only make things worse; it brought more tears to his eyes or a snarl to his lips. He said she always made things better, but that wasn’t true right now, was it? He was hurting, practically splitting open, and all she could do was sit there feeling like a useless but loaded weapon. He couldn’t even turn away from her, go home, and seek comfort from Abel. Even on his worst days, he had that option. Or he’d flee to the woods to camp, Abel in tow. What options did he have now? No Abel. No Regan. No Celeste. He wouldn’t go to Blanche for this, surely. But what about Morgan? Or Beatrice? Was she really going to turn him away and point him toward someone else?

Regan wasn’t sure, and she felt herself starting to unravel with him, unable to stop the tears despite Deirdre’s reminders echoing through her skull. Kaden looked down at her, and she wondered for a moment if he was about to come closer. The thought made her pulse beat in her temple. She couldn’t let that happen. Even Deirdre agreed that it was only a matter of time before she accidentally killed someone, at this rate, and the turkey-- she couldn’t think it. She wouldn’t touch him. Fortunately, he turned away, and down. His deep sunken eyes were red-rimmed and angry as he picked up a fistful of gravel. Regan thought it was directed more inward than at her, but she knew he wouldn’t be receptive to going to her apartment, at least initially. “Would you just think about it?” She asked, anticipating another flare of hurt. “It might be easier than being at your apartment without--” She shook her head. “It might be easier. The offer stands.” Darkness was falling quickly and heavily over them. And he’d need to sleep somewhere. It couldn’t be in her arms.

“Kaden,” Regan said his name softly, knowing that he’d hear it despite the distance between them. “What do you want to do? I-- I’ll stay here with you. All night, if I have to. We can stay here and talk. You can listen to me call up Dr. Rhee and ask for her credentials, and we can report anyone who drives by over the speed limit. But I don’t--” He looked so angry, so hurt, and so in need of something she wasn’t sure she could provide. Every time she looked at him, more tears came to her eyes. “Or you could go home. Go to my apartment. Go stay with a friend.” She extended her bandaged hand again, normally such a natural gesture between the two of them, but remembering that it could kill him, she dropped back to her side. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you. But I also don’t want to hurt you in the process of not wanting to hurt you, and I think that’s what I’m doing, and I don’t-- I don���t know what to do. I’m so sorry, Kaden. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, alright let me think about it.” Kaden couldn’t control the volume of his voice. His words kept creeping louder with every sentence. At some point he was sure Deirdre or Morgan might hear. Maybe the neighbors. Fuck it. Let them listen. “I’ll go to your apartment. Alone. Surrounded by your things. While you’re here. In a shed. And won’t get near me or touch me like I’m some fucking leper. Or a monster. Or--” He knew it wasn’t like that. He also knew right now he didn’t fucking care. He threw more rocks, thought about aiming them at the cars parked not too far off, a window, something, anything. Anything that might make him feel better. It might, right? Destruction? It would make him feel… He shook his head, deflated. He destroyed enough tonight. It wouldn’t make him feel anything. It wouldn’t fill the hole burrowing open inside of him. He felt fresh tears falling down his face and he practically slammed the heel of his hand across his face to get them off. “Fuck!” he screamed as loud as his lungs would let him into the dead night air, still turned away from her, facing the street. The sound bounced a bit, but the sound was more of a thud than anything else. Did it make him feel better? Maybe.

Kaden stood, leaned over, hands on his knees, looking away as she whispered his name. He hated that he heard it. His stupid shitty abilities that marked him as hunter, made him what he was and placed him squarely in the position he was in now. She’d asked him in the basement if he could just stop. Right then he’d give anything to. To just stop. Stop being a hunter. Stop being a Langley. Just stop being him. Oscar kept poking fun at him for being domestic, having stability, maybe a sense of normality. Well where the fuck was any of that now? He inhaled deep, thought about just screaming again. Instead, he let the breath fall out and turned back to face her.

Kaden saw her reach her hand out and took a half step towards her, only to see her pull it away. Right. Maybe hope was worse than feeling empty. His eyes focused on the bandage, though, and his brow furrowed. “What happened to your hand?” It was easier to zero in on her, push aside what she’d asked him. He wanted something to worry about that wasn’t him, wasn’t this, wasn’t his fucking fault. But as soon as he asked the question, he got the feeling he should take it back. The answer was likely either related to the scream or the training. Things she wouldn't and couldn’t tell him about. Why was she bothering if there was nothing she could do? Why was he bothering? He could barely see her eyes from here. She was too far away for him to really see her, actually pick up on every tiny nuance of her features. But he could tell she was crying. That much he could see. He could see she still cared. Still hurt. So that was something. He guessed.

Right. He should listen to her options. They all sounded shitty, to be honest. Kaden bit the inside of his lip, staring at her for a while, playing them over in his mind. What would staying outside with her mean? Was that going to just tear away at him slowly like it had been all night? Or would it get better? His chest seized up as he realized that he might not get a chance to see her again for a while. The only reason she was even this close was because he was falling apart. Didn’t really look great for where they stood in the future, when he wasn’t a mess. Then again. he was falling apart and this was all she could give him. Did that make it better or worse? Right, other options, what were the other options? Go to her place? Fuck that. If he went there the best he was likely to do was tear it apart. No. Stay with a friend. “Who?” he asked aloud. “Who’s going to even--” He sniffled, wiped the tears that had trickled down off his nose. “Oscar’s still-- Morgan is-- I mean, she has enough to-- And Bea, I don’t know where Bea is. Alain is still-- Who? Where do I go? Whose problem am I supposed to b--”

His knees shook, threatened not to support him anymore. Kaden gave in, sank back down to the curb, holding his head in his hands. He didn’t know what he wanted to do. He knew what he wanted. But it wasn’t going to happen. And he wasn’t sure what option was going to have any shot at plugging up the empty hole tearing him apart. No one seemed equipped to take on his burden. Or him. Same difference. They all had their own shit and he was the one saying he could fix it or help or whatever bullshit he was spouting on any given day. Who was left to catch him when he fell? What was the point in caring so fucking much when it left him feeling just as alone as before? It had been her. Maybe that was his mistake, relying on anyone to be there. Even though she always had. She’d always managed. Every time. And she was there. Sort of. Guess it was up to him to decide if it counted. If it was enough. He didn’t know. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t feel past the guilt that was the only thing left other than the emptiness. “I don’t know,” was all he could say through his hands. “I don’t--” Maybe if he sat there long enough the ground would swallow him whole. A pathetic laugh spilled out through the sobs. If it could happen anywhere, it was certainly this town. A long stretch passed as he sat in silence, trying to find the space to speak again, a way to break past the feelings eating at him. “What do you mean by talk?” he asked quietly. “Because if it’s just all ‘can’ts’ then I-- Just, what do you mean by talk?”

Kaden’s anguished voice cut Regan’s heart. It stung, more than fucking stung, all of it. “I’m aware you don’t have Hansen’s disease,” she bit back, “and besides, it isn’t even transmitted through skin-to-skin-- that isn’t the point. It’s not you. You’re not the-- I’m the--” Her dad’s words drummed in her head. Thing. Monster. “I want nothing more than to-- Kaden, please. You have to know that. I want to be there for you, in every sense.” Tears pricked at her eyes. Even beyond what had happened with the turkey, her control over her voice had been poor since the incident at the morgue. Deirdre was right about emotions impairing her control. So many things had broken. The shed shook with her sobs for hours each night -- which she was promptly instructed to choke out. You are an instrument of death, and death is unfeeling, uncaring. It never worked. “You don’t know what I’ve had to--” But then, she couldn’t tell him. “It’s not you.”

Regan’s eyes ticked down to her hand, the bandage wrapped tightly around her palm, hooking around her thumb. The bandage that was about to become a permanent fixture of her life, at least for the foreseeable future. She couldn’t lie. But as the ivy tugged at her neck, straining her mouth, she was also reminded that she couldn’t tell Kaden the truth, either. When she had expressed that concern to Deirdre, Deirdre’s response was that Kaden would supply his own version of the truth, if he noticed at all. She hadn’t believed that. Deirdre didn’t know Kaden as well as she did. He would notice. And he wouldn’t believe a lie, especially one that rended her open to speak it. Regan squeezed her eyes shut, her stomach flipping inside of her. Truth and lies both damned her. “It’s-- I--” The ivy grew thorns. Deirdre was right about one thing: Kaden wouldn’t understand, not completely; he would want to see this stopped. “It’s… it’s probably exactly what you think it is.” The ivy relaxed, just slightly, though Regan only felt more defeated. Somehow, a vague answer seemed worse than no answer at all. Just like Kaden probably thought coming here, talking to her from ten feet away, was worse than a text message. She wouldn’t even blame him for thinking that, though it made the sting sink deeper into her. “Please don’t--” Worry about it? Ask about it? She wasn’t even sure. “It isn’t important right now.”

She could see the string of his composure winding further and further away from him. Soon, there’d be nothing but panic and raw emotion at his core and if that happened, he’d be prone to going off and doing something stupid and getting hurt and-- “Kaden!” She said his name again, this time practically shouting it. The unintended screech echoed through the dark, empty street, and Regan bolted upright. Hand over her mouth. She assessed him with fearful eyes for a second, before determining that his hearing hadn’t seemed greatly impacted. There was no pain on his face. Well, beyond what was already there. She exhaled a massive, shaky breath, more tears falling. She had almost hurt him, even from this far away. Again. It firmed up that she needed to stay away, for his own good. But she still-- she couldn’t leave him like this, leave things like this. He was spiralling. He felt alone. If he hadn’t felt like this was the most dire thing in the world, he would have kept his distance and not stopped by, like Regan had asked him.

“Kaden, stop. You’re-- stop it. You’re not anyone’s problem. You’re the opposite of that. Stop it. Abel is going to be-- we’ll make certain Abel will be okay. He’s in excellent hands, by the sound of it.” Though she was still going to double check. “You’re not doing anyone any favors by-- especially yourself. So stop. Sit with me. Put those rocks down -- they look filthy -- and sit with me. We’ll figure it out. That’s what we do, right?” Regan’s voice tightened. It felt like barbed wire against her sore throat. “Please talk to me. You came here for a reason. And I’m not letting you push me away, either.” She ran a hand through her greasy hair and stared up the street, where the rocks had landed, before looking back at Kaden. She pushed herself a couple feet closer, but drew a hard line there. “This isn’t just about Abel. That’s obvious. So can we-- can we talk about it? Your hunting. That’s it, isn’t it? I could tell at the lakehouse that you-- please, stay.” Her head sank down toward her chest for a moment, and an idea struck her. She couldn’t tell Kaden about anything that happened in the clearing, but she could tell him about what occurred back at the shed. “I can teach you some of the breathing techniques Deirdre has been working on with me. They might help. While we’re talking.”

You don’t know what I’ve had to-- The words lit him like a flame. “Because you won’t tell me!” Kaden turned and shouted it at her without a second thought. “I could know if you would only tell me! I just want to--” It didn’t matter. He couldn’t help. He couldn’t help fucking anyone. The one thing he was good at was killing and he was starting to wonder if that was helping fucking anyone. He kicked at the pebbles on the ground. They didn’t go far. They remained closer to him than she would dare inch.

Any hope that her injury was minor, some stupid accident or clumsy mistake washed away with her words and demeanor. Concern mixed with anger; her attempt to push it away only made him want to dig his heels in deeper. “No.” His voice was hard, unflinching. He’d told lies a thousand times, about cuts, bruises, scabs. Deflecting was all too easy. Let the adults who asked questions come to their own conclusions. It was usually safer and more innocent than the truth. She could be twenty feet away and he’d see through that. “What is it?” he asked again, eyes pointed at her bandage, jaw hardened. “What happened to your hand? Because right now I’m thinking it’s more bullshit you can’t tell me. And I’m wondering what part of your life I can be a part of if I can’t even ask about the very obvious fucking bandage on your hand. Which is pretty fucking important to me. So what happened to your hand, Regan?” The anger was easier to hold onto, less crushing than the rest of his emotions stirring inside him. The anger at least felt like something. It served a purpose. It pointed the right direction. That’s what he was constantly told growing up. He’d tried so hard to take Morgan’s advice, just accept that he “didn’t want to know.” Which was crap. Not knowing, being told he wasn’t allowed to know did nothing but spike his curiosity, sent it spiraling to every worst possible scenario it could make up. And with all of it he just couldn’t find a reason why he couldn’t know. Not a good one. All it did was ignite the fire of anger, and he wanted to hold onto whatever warmth he could find right now.

Her voice shocked him. It shouldn’t. He had grown accustomed to the screeches, the sighs that stung and broke glass. But this was loud in a way that wasn't destructive. It was loud and carried through the streets the way he’d wanted his to. It wasn’t destructive. This time. But it still punched a hole through his resolve. Kaden faced her and saw that she was panicked, her eyes wide, hand clasped to her mouth. Any hope that he could prove to her that it wasn’t that dangerous to be near her vanished with the wind, blown away like the echoes of their voices. She was so fucking scared that she could hurt people, that she would hurt him. It killed him to see it. It killed him even more to stay back and offer no comfort. But what could he do to change the situation? Shit all.

“You sure about that?” Kaden asked her, shaking his head. “I don’t feel like I’m doing anyone any fucking good right now.” He was already seated, the air from his sails gone. The anger had died down, so had the sadness, he was in a lull of nothingness, waiting for the wind to decide which way it wanted to blow. His head was still in his hands when he heard movement and he shot up to look at her. There was no way. He held his breath and-- She only moved one more meter closer. Better or worse? The tightness in his throat didn’t feel like much of a positive answer. “I came here because you’re who I--” His lip quivered and he wished the wind would blow the other fucking direction. “When things are bad, you’re who I--” The lump in his throat wouldn’t let him finish the sentence, it closed up every time. He wasn’t sure the ending mattered much anyway. Still, she was talking. And she was there. It felt like getting scraps from the table. But it was better than going hungry, right? “What about it? What do you want to talk about?” he muttered, sniffling, voice small. “I don’t think breathing techniques are going to make me feel any fucking better about what I did.” He looked at her, trying to let it be enough.

Regan could only freeze, her blood shocked cold, as Kaden demanded to know what had happened to her hand. She knew this would happen. Deirdre was full of crap. Kaden would notice. And were he to find out precisely what was under the bandage, and why, he would do everything he possibly could to put a stop to it. Maybe that was why Deirdre was so insistent that no one other than Morgan could learn what they were doing in that clearing. But Kaden had a point. This wasn’t some small part of her life that she’d edged him out of. Right now, it effectively was her life. Each day was the same, bleeding into the next. She woke up in the shed, soldiered over to the clearing, screamed until her lungs burned and her throat bled, slid the knife across her palm as she tried and failed to keep her fist from closing over the injury, and started the whole damn thing over again every time she flinched. Only to wake up feeling empty nothingness the next day, like a cadaver with all of the organs removed en bloc. The shade of what was next lingered over her constantly: more animals dead by her hand, drowning, iron. Detachment. Numbness. Perfection.

She turned to him, weary and tearful, lacking the punch of his anger. She tried to hide her hand, held it close against her chest, covering it with her right. It felt as ineffective as everything else did. “You know that I can’t tell you. I literally--” Even that was enough to make the ivy choke her. The promise had been exchanged in the clearing. Regan bowed to the pain and sobbed. This wasn’t what she had wanted. This wasn’t something she had fully factored in. “I wouldn’t-- if it weren’t necessary, I wouldn’t--” The ivy squeezed, and Regan sputtered for air for a moment, before sinking down further against the curb. “Kaden, I’m not sure you actually want to know. I trust you, but I don’t-- I think you would try to stop this, if you knew everything that we were-- ” He would. She knew he would. If he went to her and claimed that he needed to tear himself apart, completely unmake himself, before he was safe to be around, that was liable to override her pacifist existence and she’d slap him in the face. “I’m doing what’s necessary, okay? It’s necessary. If I want to prevent what happened at the morgue from-- it’s necessary.” With a deep breath, she slumped forward, elbows on her thighs and head cradled in her hands. “If you’re sure you want to know, I’ll talk to Deirdre.”

“Positive.” Even though Regan wasn’t sure Kaden went to the right person for this, right now. What good could she be? She couldn’t even get near him. Couldn’t even give him a hug or a kiss or hold his hand without being crushed by dread and fair and grisly images of his internal anatomy shooting through her head. Maybe her first instinct had been right -- she should have pushed Kaden away alongside the rest of her life. But unlike her occupation, he had been able to fight against that happening. He bemoaned how stubborn she was, but didn’t recognize that he was just as bullheaded sometimes. And not just about wine and cheese.

“Why is that?” Regan soured immediately after asking the question, because it sounded precisely like what Al always shot her way as a rebuttal. “I just mean-- you have so many people who love and care about you, Kaden. You do. I mean, you just listed several of them, and I can think of others. So, sure, maybe it’s hard to feel like you’re imposing on those people, but they want to see you happy. I want to see you happy.” Her stomach sank. She felt like she was sending him in the opposite direction. Had Deirdre managed to cling to any relationships or friendships during her training? She had Morgan, now, but she wasn’t a risk. Did her mother allow her any friends or loved ones when she was young? Regan knew the answer to that, and it made her heart take on water and capsize down to where her stomach was sitting. She palmed the necklace Kaden had given her, squeezing it. “Kaden. Inhale through your mouth and exhale through your nose three times. Then tell me about what you’re thinking. Not--” She wasn’t sure she could manage hearing more of his thoughts on her training -- “I mean, your hunting. What happened with Abel. It’s connected, right? So talk to me.” Please. The word died in her throat, though. How could she beg him when he couldn’t do the same? Regan looked up toward him. “That’s exactly what I said, you know. My exact words.” There would be humor in it, if everything weren’t so dismal. “And then I tried it, and I still thought it was absurd, no merit to be found, and-- okay, I still think that, to an extent. But try it. You’re currently breathing shallow and quickly, and your face is likely getting numb. So slow down. Panicking isn’t going to accomplish anything right now. Abel is-- he’s going to be okay. And you still have me, okay? You do, even if it doesn’t seem-- you do.”

Seeing her sobbing and doubled over hit him like a punch in his own gut. His anger started to melt, fizzling down as soon as it had flared up watching the pain he was causing her. Then again, it wasn’t really him, was it? A little, sure, but ultimately it was the promise bind. It was Deirdre who forced this situation. It was so hard to see the benefit of word binding, the need for it. All they did was cause pain. Sometimes Kaden questioned if their only promise of precaution was even a good idea, if it could be used against them somehow and hurt them, too. It likely could in the wrong hands. “I know. I do know that. I get that I don’t understand but I do know you would never put yourself through any of this if it wasn’t--” He shook his head at her insistence that he didn’t want to know, the same one Morgan gave him. Maybe he was stupid for clawing for this information but the curiosity, the concern wouldn’t stop gnawing at him. “Stop telling me what I want to--”

There was another piece, one that wasn’t familiar or well tred. There it was. The real reason it was being kept from him. Not because anyone thought it would hurt him or spare him or do him some kindness. Kaden never believed that lie to begin with. No, it was because they thought he’d stop it. They thought he’d interfere for one reason or another. That he was just an obstacle to everything. Like so many things that had happened tonight, he didn’t know how to process that. She trusted him. But not enough. Or was it too much? Why did they think he would stop it? How-- Why-- His mind went into overdrive for the hundredth time trying to concoct scenarios that were so bad he wouldn’t want to know and would throw himself in front of to stop, factoring in the sole evidence he had, the cut on her hand. She was slightly right. He didn’t want to imagine them. But he knew he’d see them play out in his imagination all the same. Sill the question she presented him with; was ignorance really bliss? No. He felt cut off from her enough. And he knew he wouldn’t stop asking or hurting her by trying to get more from her. “I’m sure.” His voice was shaky, but he knew he couldn’t stay in the dark forever. Not if he wanted to make this work. Not if he wanted things to get better. He had to believe that.

Though Kaden wasn’t so sure why she believed that people cared about him, that anyone else would be there. And of course she had to ask him why he thought otherwise. Honestly, it was hard to say for certain. “I don’t-- I can’t be a burden. I don’t want to just ruin their lives and make things worse. If that’s all I do, then why would they bother with--” Maybe it was easier to assume people wouldn’t be there for him than to reach out and learn the truth of the matter the hard way. “Hell, I’m not even sure I should be here right now.” With how much she was taking on herself, it almost seemed unfair to put more on her. He looked up from his hands at her and saw a flash of silver. He flinched. The last silver he saw was--- He gulped, not sure if he was pushing away the thoughts or the bile driving its way up. He caught a better look and saw it wasn’t a knife (of course it wasn’t, not in her hands of all places), just the light from the street lamps glinting off of something around her neck. For a moment, he assumed it was the amulet, the one that hid her wings. But it was still flat against her chest. So it was the heart. She was holding the heart. He wished it were his hand instead. It lit a spark of hope, a small light in the emptiness trying to swallow him whole either way.

“I hope you also said the ‘fucking’ then, too,” Kaden said with a small attempt at a laugh. It was more like a puff of air. He brushed his face with the back of his hand, shoving away the tears and snot that wouldn’t fucking quit before doing the stupid breathing. It didn’t make him feel better. Rolling his eyes while he did it, on the other hand, did improve his mood ever slightly. Enough to try to answer her. “I was out hunting, though. If that’s what you’re asking. I didn’t want--” Why did everything sound so fucking stupid when he went to say it out loud? “I was going to leave Abel at home. He’s not-- I mean you’ve seen him, he’s not a--” He felt himself getting choked up again, thinking about Abel on the table in the exam room, barely breathing, seconds away from death. He did the stupid breathing shit again, exhaling the thoughts of Abel and his panic as best he could before carrying on. “I didn’t want to be out there alone, not after what happened. The time. With-- You know, the time Walker saved me.” He held his arms against his chest, pulling himself in and gripping as tight as he could without bruising. “There was a wer-- a wolf. A monster. It attacked. Almost-- Abel jumped in to-- Even though I told him to go home. He saved--” It struck him for the first time tonight that he’d needed to be saved from a werewolf every full moon he’d even encountered a wolf recently. Walker, Oscar, Abel; if it weren’t for them, he’d be dead and buried by now. Maybe his mother was right. Distractions were clouding him, affecting his hunting, making him vulnerable and powerless. Happiness was fleeting and pointless, just like life without duty or family. His eyes locked with Regan’s. He still had her. Abel was still alive. But how pointless was it trying to hold onto all of it? He saw her fingers again, fiddling with the necklace and he felt it again, the small warmth of embers. Pointless or not, it was something. Something he wasn’t ready to let die.

“I’m not sure you should be here right now, either,” Regan said honestly, eyes flicking down. It was tempting to grab her own fistful of gravel. Were the rocks sharp enough to grind into her palm if she squeezed them? Would pain flicker across her face? Would Deirdre command her to do it again? She just stared for a moment, then looked back at Kaden. “I’m glad you are, though. I mean, as glad as I think either of us can be, at the moment.” She watched Kaden’s face knot up again as he talked about Abel, his voice thick with emotion. Not a hunting dog? Well, technically he was, but more of a failed one than anything else. He seemed to be good at locating decapitated heads. Though not as good as she was, of course. Regan took a long breath with him; her whole body seemed to move so slow compared to his.

A wolf. Another wolf. Or something like one. Regan wasn’t clear whether it was a wolf or a monster or a wolf Kaden was calling a monster, but she didn’t think it mattered. What he said next, though -- “Abel saved your life?” Her eyes widened. Of course he felt like fecal matter. He would anyways, but that dog-- Abel would have died for Kaden. For a moment, despite their pain, Regan was grateful that Kaden had decided to bring Abel with him. She knew she couldn’t voice that thought, but when Abel recovered, he was going to receive many, many peanut butter treats. She sat in silence for a moment, just listening to Kaden -- his panic and his breathing slowing down. She thought she understood something more about his panic now; part of it was about what would come next for him. “We’ll figure it out,” she repeated, talking over the silence. “What you want to do. After Abel is-- we’ll figure it out.”

#chatzy #wickedswriting #writing #regan #kadavernagh #vomit tw #self harm tw #we both go down together

[zedkyo]

Day One Sorta...

Two weeks ago the world was a much happier, though at the same time not as happy place. At least back then they were just trying to screw each other out of a nearly useless currency instead of trying to eat or kill each other outright, or most of the world was. Now we’re standing at gunpoint from some boys that look like they should have either eaten or been eaten this last week, practically skin and bones and barely able to hold up the guns they are threatening us with.

“Which one of you is the leader?” The man nearest the middle of the group steps forward, directing his used-to-be-illegal sawn-off side by side 12gauge at each of the seven of us individually, though in no condition to even start to guess which of us is the leader, or the most dangerous for that matter. His cloths can only be described as grey scraps of cloth, littered with brown splotches from the dirt. It’s only been two weeks, how are people this bad off already? “I asked a question!” He’s obviously getting impatient now so I step forward.

“They call me Zed. I guarantee though, if you pull that trigger the other six will wipe you and your band out faster than they can pull their own.”

“Yea? Wanna bet?” He opens the barrel in a show that it is in fact loaded, though I think he might have forgotten if it actually is. Before he can even close the action on it, two guns are drawn from the closest to me and pointed at the raggedy group.

I point to my left, at a woman that looks no less than thirty, a large caliber, and even larger barreled rifle aimed dead center at the man’s head. “This one’s V, and the one on my right we call Hulk. You can probably guess why.” V, is no small girl for sure, and she holds the twenty plus pound rifle steady for standing up and it being nearly as tall as her five and a half foot tall self. Wiry looking, but faster at drawing then the other.. The second one, maybe three inches below my near six and a half feet tall is built almost like the Hulk himself from the comics and old TV show. In one hand he sports a similarly equipped sawn-off, though this one is easily a 10gauge, wielded like a child might a dandelion. In his other, or rather hanging off his shoulder and the trigger held by the other hand is a triple-barreled chain gun, the button on the side of the reversed pistol grip pressed down to charge the RPMs of the barrels, all three hair-triggers pressed to their maximum reach before they actually let off a round. The minigun seems to have the most effect though, and the man slowly closes the chambers of his and orders his men to lower their guns as well, to which the high pitched grinding sound dies down and all weapons are lowered. Loaded or not, every gun has an intimidation factor, and the way we look compared to the way they look is more convincing that ours are actually loaded. “Now, how about some food? You boys look as hungry as we feel tired.” I motion towards the abandoned hotel in the middle of the flatlands where we are at, the men eye our bags with delight at the prospect of food and hurry in, only the man at front waiting until the big guns pass him to start heading inside with me at his heels, seemingly more restrained than the others. Smart. Dangerous.

Two Weeks, and Two Days Ago: Chaos Begins, T-Minus 52 hours.

V was nowhere to be seen, which was good. If she was seen, we wouldn’t have had the surprise on our side. Hulk and I stopped at the front in our black SUV, looking at the old apartment building that should have been demolished a decade ago.

“Well boss, looks like another job we have to watch our step in.” His voice is deep, but soft. Not showing any of the mental horrors or pain he had stored away for nights light this.

“Aren’t they always? It’s not like simple gang bangers can afford a fancy mansion, now can they?” I replied casually, having done this a thousand times already. He shrugged, knowing I’m at least partly right. If they didn’t spend their money on their own dope, they probably could with the money they make.

V sounded in our ears, her voice was silky and young compared to her age, even two weeks later in the middle of hell, for less appropriate terms. “At least twenty moving around, I don’t see any on the far side.” I confirmed two at the door, watching our car with nervousness mixed with genuine fear. I could only assume word had gotten around about the last six years things had gone awry for people like them and their bosses in the state. Someone eventually made up a name for people like us and word always spreads.

“We have the two at the door, Hulk is going to breach, then you take down as many as you can that you have CLEAN shots for. None of that half-assed, guessing shit like you did last month and left a couple of injured that nearly dropped us.”

“How was I supposed to know there was some angled sheets of scrap metal they had pack-ratted away? Besides, a clean shot would imply not through walls, and you know nobody goes NEAR a window when the shooting starts.”

She knew what I meant, it was just her way of saying she would keep to what she knew was safe to shoot through. At this point, I might as well pause.

Eight years ago. I started out alone, story of boy meets girl, bad guy kills girl and leaves guy alive. Guy takes his shitty, civilian equipment and gets revenge. The twist there is, the story doesn’t end with that. Someone else sees him do it, decides to offer him a job doing it. Starting with only pocket knives, working nights during school time, on weekends, earning money he can’t admit to where he got, and can only show off small bills at a time. Shown where to get black market weapons, to do better. Better knives, a gun or two just in case, REAL equipment. One night on a job, runs into a gang training a girl that was in the slave trade for the last twelve years. He nurses her to health in secret of his family, turns her loose. Eventually we run into each other again, she wants me to train her in what I do, as payback for all the people that bought and sold her since she was kidnapped at 6. A year later, we find a huge man that was probably a bodybuilder before he was beaten half to death chained to a wall in the basement. Free and nurse him after clearing out the warehouse, he joins the team for similar but different reasons. Three people with shitty pasts joining together to try to stop any more people from getting hurt by the same garbage.

Back to the job that night. The hulk of a man opened his door and steps out, followed quickly by me. We walked towards the door slowly, non-threatening, but guns are still drawn on us as expected. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“Doing maintenance work. Your door looks pretty busted, like it’s coming off its hinges.” The smartass WOULD say something like that too, and it surprisingly throws these two off and their guns lower as they both stupidly look back at the door. He immediately steps between them in the middle of their, “But it’s fi-”, his burly right hand reaches under and back, pulling a 40lb hammer down from a sheathe across his back, one upward motion hitting the door dead center and blowing it in several feet before the crumpled piece of metal even hits the floor.

The gunmen instantly turn their guns on him, and I draw two solid metal knives from my sides, two blacked throwing knives really, each carved and sharpened from a single dense sheet of steel without any hinges or plastic. Fists up, blades down, Hulk is in the door and I quickly join him, having “punched” past the two guards with the blades slicing their throats clean enough that they probably didn’t feel it until the tips cut between the vertebrae and almost instantly killed them before they dropped.

“More subtle next time, big guy?” I tossed the twin blades, one towards the guard of the next door, sticking it deep into his chest and through his heart before he can even raise the muzzle of his shotgun, the one in my left hand spiraling off to the right immediately after to stick into a second man’s forehead as he rose from the couch near a TV.

V hops on comms again, this time with a warning. “Civilian in the next room, Zed hit that one. Kaden, you get the door on the left. Hit it hard, it’s sturdy but won’t hold because it looks like the frame is rotting a bit, but there’s a guy behind it you won’t have to deal with otherwise.”

“Thanks Vera.” Take note that Hulk is only his nickname as we headed our separate directions while V nags me about hating when I call her that. I pulled my handgun, which is more like a hand cannon, from the holder on my left thigh, aiming it at the left before I even kick down the door. Taking the hint from V, and another throwing knife in my right hand, I pull the trigger on the first guy in the room and using the recoil as momentum from the heavy caliber pistol I launch the knife into the man’s neck, just above this girl’s shoulder. Released from his grasp she drops to the floor. A third, behind the second is practically tore in half from a bullet the size of my throwing daggers that also tears a hole in the two walls to my right and rips a chunk out of the floor before the phosphorous tipped shell disintegrates into the ground. Looks like she didn’t hit any sheet metal this time. The rest of the building was easy, a tip here, an extra hole in the wall there, and the last 15 or so armed people are cleaned up. I walked back through, digging my knives out of people’s bodies in various places, cleaning it on their clothes before restoring them to their proper places on my now slightly hole filled body armor. Those welts are going to hurt tomorrow for sure. It’s a weekend though, nobody to ask why I’m limping from this chunk taken out of my not-so-protected hip at school. As we walk out the front door, all reusable equipment in hand, we see V almost to the vehicle already.

“You have a count?” She asked. I simply shrugged in response, as we all knew the job was the clear the building out, not to care about how many were in it. We certainly weren’t the kind to compete like Legolas and Gimli might either. Everything is stripped off and tossed in the back, knowing in the imperfect world all the gunfire that took place over ten minutes would mean the cops would take less than thirty from the first shot, meaning we had ten minutes to move away from the area before we even heard a siren out here. That doesn’t mean we could properly store them before getting thirty or so miles away though, so we hopped in, Kaden passed out almost immediately in the back seats while I crawled into the passenger side and V slid behind the wheel and started us away.

Maybe an hour and a half later all the gear is secure where it should be, in the safe under the seats, and ten minutes more we’ve gotten back to their motel and I’ve been escorted home by, as some might call, the “.50 caliber chick.”

This next part is not an action movie, and you should be over 18 for it. Anyone underage, please scroll past this, don’t worry I’ll tell you when you can stop.

Veronica ran her hand along my thigh, a thing I might do if I’m stressed, whether to myself or someone I’m close to. She however, has different intentions with the motion.

“Vera, you know how I feel about this.”

She hummed out an uh-huh, her fingers danced upwards slowly, teasingly. I’m driving and I prefer not to take a hand off the wheel. Besides, I drive a manual, so even if both hands are not on the wheel, the second still needs to be somewhere on the car instead of fighting her off. By the time we got to my house and I had parked, she had slid her hand into my pants and was rubbing the growing bulge in my boxers. I practically jumped out of the car, walking inside as she took her time getting out, knowing with my more feral senses she was doing every seductive movement she could while getting out. I opened the door and practically snuck inside to keep from waking the other occupants of the house up, where she walked around to the front of the house where my window was on the second floor, climbing up the gutter with her own silent ease and letting herself in through the never locked pane of glass right as I stepped in the door, not turning the light on as per my usual way of entering my room. I had it memorized, and light just wakes people up anyway.

Before I could respond to her presence, she states in a quiet, innocent, but loving tone. “You’re tired, and injured. Let me help you get those off.” Her hands slid under my shirt, and I woefully lifted my arms up to let her pull it off my torso. Her fingers tug at the button on my pants, then undo the zipper. “These have to come off too, since this is around where your biggest injury is.” Her fingers pushed beneath my boxers at my hips, the wound not even making me flinch as she accidentally brushes against it, being too tired and having too high of a pain tolerance to even feel it. Her thumbs stay on the outside however, allowing her to push both layers down to my ankles as I kicked off my shoes.

I sighed, twisting my body to fall on my back on the bed, where she flicked at my erection playfully. “Well, even if you resist mentally, your body still seems to enjoy my touch. I’ll get to that after I patch that up though.” Two which she pulls a roll of gauze and rubbing alcohol from under my bedside table. One of the things I always keep around me, just in case something happens, accident or not.

V taped the gauze in a large bundle to my side, to make sure I didn’t roll over in my sleep and bleed out through a thin sheet or something. After that, I heard her clothes hit the floor and realize she hasn’t thrown my blanket over me. Instead of a blanket, and before I can realize I was still exposed, she crawled on top of me, my slowly dwindling hardon instantly springing back to life as her warm body pressed against mine in the dark, the heat between her legs rivaling the core of my own body, if rumors of me being a space heater are true.

“Now the fun part, unless you really don’t want to.” She stretched out that “really” as far as she could, so I sighed and wrapped my arms around her back, a hand on her lower back to squish her nethers against mine, and the other at the peak of her shoulder, pressing her chest to mine as I kissed her neck hard enough to leave a definite hickey. She ground helplessly against my body in her sudden lust, and moaned directly into my ear at my unexpected move.

I smirked at her as she cried out. “One, you should probably muffle yourself however you can, and two, you teased me for the last twenty or so minutes and THEN tell me I can say no?”

Her only response was to grind even rougher at me with her hips, my hand keeping her folds away from the tip of my member by pressing them instead against the base of my shaft, her body unable to pull back and reposition. “C-come on. Please??” Great, she’s begging now. Might as well give her what she wants, since she has pushed me this far right?

I relaxed my grip on her lower back, my hand brushed past her ass and gripped her thigh. I’m rewarded this time, a small gasp as I pull her knee towards her side, suggesting she pull the blankets over us just in case someone decides to check if I actually am home, and she does just that right before I lift her cooch into the air and spread it wide and deep by pressing her down on my rod. She did her best to stifle her shocked moan by digging her teeth into my shoulder almost deep enough to draw blood.

“My turn now?” She looks at me pleadingly in the dark and I nod, being able to see quite well in the blackness. My hands both moved to where her legs and hips meet as she sat up on my lap, balls deep in her hot, wet, and rather soft-walled mound. She started slow at first, rocking her hips back and forth, getting used to me inside of her before beginning to bounce on my lap. She bit her hand to keep quiet this time, her walls clenching tighter as she gained speed and momentum. I could feel myself reaching my own peak as well, spurred on by the knowledge she was getting off on me.

Right before we both climaxed, my hands reached up, one cupping the back of her neck to pull her down into a rough but intimate kiss, the other wrapping around her breast. The feeling of her lips against mine, as well as my hand squeezing her tit gave us both a little jump of pleasure, hers more obvious however as her pussy became like a vice, every pulse of our hearts was felt by us both the fitting was so snug by this point. She thankfully didn’t break the kiss, but by her mewls I could tell she was cumming, and so was I. Every time one of her tiny moans was around the same time as the throbbing spurt of my balls emptying into her depths, she squeaked a little, our bodies held tight to each other even in the afterglow. I refused to pull out, even after, and I knew she would hate if I did, so we lay there with her on top, both of us more exhausted than we were from the job.

Ok little ones, you can open your eyes now.

Her body laying on top of mine, she pants, speaking quietly because of our close proximity in the bed. “Why don’t you want to do this all the time, Zed? Why do you not like us being close?”

I sigh at the question. “You know why.” She pouts at my response, so I oblige her for a hundredth time. “I found you in a time of hardship, and gave you a better place. Our relationship started off as a thrill in that way, so us being close like this is just us being mentally attached to the feeling of when we first met, and that feeling is just a memory that is years old.”

“We could make new ones, ones that don’t involve blood or you saving my ass, literally.” Always persistent, but I do have to give her credit for trying.

“All we do is deal with blood and saving each other’s asses. Figuratively OR literally. When this goes away, then we won’t have anything keeping us together.”

She always hates that response to that question, but she’s euphoric at the moment and doesn’t argue. I was too tired at the moment anyway to argue, and she was already half asleep now as her breathing slowed. I hated to admit I loved feeling this close to someone, but it was also scary because I didn’t think it would last either. I could think about that more in the morning anyway, if she decided to bring it up. I closed my eyes and felt myself drift into sleep, knowing full well the horrors and memories that accompany my dreams, but at least there was someone to wake up to tonight instead of a cold empty room, not knowing if I was still in my nightmares.

End of day 1

[viscountessevie]

America Singer Week Day 2: America and Family

Someone Like You Pt. 3

I went back to Carolina. Back to my parents. Back to being a governess. Back to dealing with bratty kids who had the attention span of a goldfish. It was suffice to say that I was miserable. At least with Kota, even if I wasn't actively working, I was happy to assist him in his studio. With each passing day, I missed him even more. Once or twice I picked up the phone to ring him to apologise again but I knew he would hate that so I just waited for him to call me once he had simmered.

A year went by. My parents were badgering me about what happened with him. The second year went by, I wrote him letters to show at least I made an effort. My parents asked if I was ever going to get married. A third year flew past. My parents were getting impatient. They did not want a reputation of having a spinster daughter. We were in a revolutionary time; the castes were being dissolved. Their daughter being unmarried is the least of their worries in this modern society. Year four came and went. I had completely given up. I told my parents to find me a match if they were that desperate to get me a husband and wanted grandkids (though I never wanted kids, alas duty to my family is always a priority).

It was the beginning of five years since I last saw Kota Singer. I was supposed to meet my future husband on a blind date today. I carefully located the address that my parents had given me and my jaw dropped when I saw where the date was set up to be. It was the fancy restaurant Kota brought me to on our first date. My breath hitched and I had half a mind to run in the other direction. I braced myself and took a deep breath. I needed to move on, I couldn't still be pining over that jackass. I pushed through the door and walk up to the host.

“Reservation for two under Lovett.” The man checked the list and found my name.

“Ah, your date arrived a few minutes earlier. This way, Miss.” He guided me over to the table and I caught a flash of red hair. Fuck no. (Pardon my language). My mystery date was Kota. I didn't want to make a scene so I begrudgingly took my seat across him. I refused to look at him because I knew if I did, I'd break down crying.

“Surprise!” His tone was sheepish and could sense him wearing a nervous smile. Dammit I knew him too well. I betrayed myself by lifting my head up to him. It felt like 5 years hadn't even gone by and we were right where we started. It was a weird sense of deja vu. I wore a blank expression, not quite sure what to say. So I started with the obvious.

“Did my parents put you up to this? I don't believe it, this is a new low even for them.” I found myself clenching my fists furiously. Both Kota and I were surprised to see me this upset with them. The only person who ever made me angry was him but even with him it was layered with love. I finally somewhat understood Kota’s resentment for his family. He reached out and covered my fists in his calloused - from all the sculpting - yet soft hands.

“Hey don't be angry at them. I asked them, I needed a way to talk to you and letters or phone calls didn't seem enough. I flew out here and made the necessary arrangements with them. I'm sorry for tricking you but don't hold it against them. Looks like I'm your future husband, huh?” He cracked a smile, I couldn't help myself and followed suit.

“This doesn't mean we are completely okay, Koko. You were gone for five years and not to mention I didn't hear from you at all. A simple letter or phone call would have sufficed!” He smiled at his nickname (I wasn't even sure how it slipped out) but his eyebrows crinkled ever so slightly when he heard my voice crack towards the end.

“I know and I'm so sorry. You were right, Lee. I needed to reevaluate my life and I did. I no longer want to keep apologising my actions. It took a long time for me to admit that and I realised that after that I needed you in my life. You make me want to be a better person, Lee. I'm not saying I changed overnight but I have been trying these past 5 years. I am still trying and I want you to give me one last chance. Oh, I made you something.” My heart swelled at the sincerity of his declaration. I believed him and trusted that he would keep to his word. He pulled out a velvet bag from his satchel and slid it carefully over to me. Before opening it, I felt up the mysterious item inside and he grinned at me fondly. He knew I liked to feel up and guess my gifts before actually opening them. Then I delicately loosened the strings of the bag and picked up the item inside. It was wooden and for a moment I didn't recognise what it was. Examining the circular shape attached to a longer smoothed over cylinder, I realised it was a wooden microphone. I faced him with adoring eyes. I was extremely touched. He made this just for me and I know it must have been hard because he has never used wood for any of his sculptures, he mostly worked with clay and marble. I was about to question the sudden change in material, when he pointed to the latch.

“It opens.” He said simply but I could sense his excitement. He was on the edge of his seat, his eyes twinkling and his cheeks flushed to a rosy colour. What was inside this mic? I fiddled with the latched before it clicked open. I brought up a shaky hand to muffle my loud gasp. Embedded comfortably on a silk cushion was a ring. It wasn’t just any plain old, boring diamond engagement ring because he knew I hated how cliche and plain diamond rings were. He brought my dream ring come to life. I’ve always wanted a ring that was incorporated with my partner’s and my birthstones. The irony was that I hate diamonds but that was my birthstone while Kota’s - being born on October 13 - was an opal and pink tourmaline. He was smart enough to make sure diamonds were the smallest part of the ring while the opals and tourmalines shone through. It was a simple metallic band which had an intricate crisscrossed pattern on both sides before coming together in the middle with a heart shaped opal and a pink tourmaline which were connected together by three small diamonds lined up vertically.

We gazed into each other’s eyes, he didn’t even need to say anything and I said yes. He placed a dramatic hand to his forehead to wipe away non-existent sweat in relief. He explains that he invited his family to a dinner party to celebrate our engagement when I raised a questioning eyebrow at his relief.

“What if I had said no?” I wheezed, I can’t imagine how panicked he would have been if I hadn’t accepted his proposal.

“I would have asked again. Then ask again the next day. I would have  found ways to prove myself to you and asked everyday until you found me worthy and said yes.” I blushed, just only realising how much he really loved me and how much I meant to him. I went over to his side of the table to hug him really tightly.

On our walk back home, I realised that we were in Carolina and his family were in Angeles.

“Where exactly is this engagement party being held?” He was a deer caught in the headlights. He stuttered before I gave him a stern glare. Then he finally admitted that my parents were helpful enough to pack my bags for me while we were out today so that I could leave for Angeles tonight. This sly boy; my sly boy that I adored dearly.

The following night after we landed in Angeles, we held a small and private engagement party with our families. Magda and King Maxon were able to convince America come along and I promised that Kota was genuinely trying to be nice now. She only scoffed and wished me luck. I didn’t hold against her, it was rather hard to believe that after all those years of being horribly rude to his family, he was changed completely. They were bound to have their reservations, I just hope they can see he was trying and of course he did not pull a 180 change but rather was trying to more pleasant day by day.

It was a fairly normal engagement party; the women gushing over my ring, children running around playing catching and the men seizing up Kota. I turn away from the girls momentarily to see Maxon - I finally relented to calling him without a title when he insisted we were family now - offering little Kaden to Kota. I smile at Maxon, he seems to be the only one who seems to be giving Kota a chance other than Magda. A mother’s love has no bounds. When Kota gingerly took Kaden into his arms, I had to laugh at his terrified expression. His stiff posture relaxed and he carefully placed Kaden’s head on his shoulder and patted his back soothingly to put him to sleep. When my fiancé caught my eye, he gave me a serene smile. I had to excuse myself from the ladies to be by his side. I coo over Kaden’s sleeping form and watching Kota be so good with him made my heart swell. I never liked kids but seeing Kota right now with Kaden safely tucked away in his arms, I wanted to mother his children. I wanted to raise them with him, they'd have his red hair and my eyes, or vice versa. Every time I looked at them, I would see a little bit of him in them. I wanted a family with him.

After dinner, we gathered everyone because Kota wanted to kill two birds with one stone. His speech was directed more to his family than me and our engagement.

“Before I start, I want to apologise for everything horrible I ever did or said to all of you. As I told my fianceé a few days ago, I am done apologising, I no longer want to be that awful person you know. I l have had five long years to reflect and admit to myself that the problem didn't just lie with you but with me as well. Those five years made me realise I have no idea where I'd be without this amazing woman in my life,” He pulled me flush against his side and I kissed his cheek affectionately. “I do not expect all of you to forgive me right away, of course you have reservations but believe me when I say I am trying. So here is to new beginnings and our family!” Everyone clinked their glasses and drank to that.

As everyone started to leave, America stopped to say her goodbyes. She hugged me tightly, “Welcome to the family!” and averted her eyes to her brother in an unsure manner.

“I'll believe it when I see it.” She said simply and I could see him biting down on his tongue from lashing out a snarky comment. I squeezed his arm comfortingly with a hint of pride. After everyone had left, we crashed on our sofa, dreading the clean up and wedding plans to come. For the time being we were happy just to be resting in each other’s company with intertwined hands.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

#America Singer Week 2017 #mrtflr #Someone Like You #Kota/Leah #Kota Singer #Leah Singer #Fanfiction #Day 2: America and Family